The Mary Shelley Club by Goldy Moldavsky (ebook reader for manga TXT) 📕

“It isn’t anyone from your past, Rachel.”

I felt the hairs on my arm rise. I got the sense that there was someone else close by, watching us. Stalking us. Another twig snapped, even though Thayer and I were standing still. I looked around, but Thayer’s words had me dizzy, like I was the one who’d been drugged.

“Did you—did you push Saundra?”

“No!” He was adamant, frustrated, but he was having trouble saying everything he wanted to say. As if there was too much of it. “I didn’t—this is much bigger than me. It’s bigger than our game.”

The noise wasn’t restricted to my mind anymore; it was getting louder, coming closer.

“We aren’t the only ones playing—”

“Thayer, watch out!”

The noise in the woods became a person in a mask, upon us as though out of thin air. He held a knife up and slashed it downward. One swift motion that stopped with an ugly squelch in the middle of Thayer’s back.

Thayer’s mouth, open in midsentence, stayed gaping, silently howling as he sank to the ground.

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MY HANDS CAME up to cover my own slack mouth, tears pricking my eyes. In the seconds that I stayed shell-shocked, the masked figure ripped the knife out of Thayer and came after me.

I tried to run, but I wasn’t quick enough. He slammed into me, bringing us both down to the ground. I twisted around so I could see him, anticipate any sudden moves. Flashes of my kitchen on Long Island came flooding back to me. The icy snow on the back of my neck seamlessly transformed into cold tile, and this person’s grip became Matthew’s, his knees digging painfully into my hips.

It was like the memory infused me with adrenaline. As if the nightmares had been rehearsals for this very moment. He gripped the knife in both hands and raised it above his head, but but I blocked him with my forearm. With my free hand, I felt around, shoving through the wet powder until I found a rock. Big as a heart. I grabbed it and swung.

The rock made a dull thump as I crashed it into the Masked Man’s temple. Fear and adrenaline had made me strong—stronger than him, at least—and it was enough to knock him out. He collapsed on top of me, lifeless.

I kicked him until he was completely off of me and I could scurry out from under him, kicking the knife away. I sat up, gulping in ragged breaths. A few feet away, Thayer was facedown on the ground. I crawled to him, the snow turning slick under my palms and seeping through the fabric of my jeans. I flipped him over and searched for the wound, patting him down—searched for a pulse too, but my hands were too shaky to be of any use.

I dug into my pockets, my fingers scrambling for my phone. When I finally yanked it out and tried to thumb it on, the screen stayed black. The surface of it was streaked with moisture—residual droplets from when it had fallen it in the snow earlier. I shook the phone, smacked it against my thigh, nearly broke my finger slamming it down on the power button again and again. Nothing.

No phone, no help, and the Masked Man was lying right there.

I had to go get someone. I had to help Thayer. But even though I knew I should be running, my body seemed to move of its own accord toward the Masked Man.

I approached him slowly until I was hunched over him, my fingers reaching out to touch him. I turned him onto his back. He seemed lighter now. Smaller. I curled my fingers under the edge of the mask and yanked it off in one quick motion. It was Felicity.

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I RAN.

I could see one of the castle towers that poked up behind the Delacorte. It was my North Star. Freddie must be there by now, I thought, and even if he wasn’t, there must be a patrol cop around the premises, someone I could flag down for help.

But when I got to the theater, there was no one. I skirted the perimeter, stopping at every ticket window to slam my fists against the closed wooden slats, hoping someone would come, but it was boarded up for the winter. It wasn’t ’til I reached the entrance at the side that the door gave way when I pushed it. I ran down the aisle, passing rows of seats, working my way to the grand circular stage. The place was cavernous, empty except for a lone figure.

I nearly sobbed with relief when I saw Freddie standing in the center of the platform, his back toward me. I could only make out his silhouette, but I knew it was him.

“Freddie!” I called as I ran to him, racing up the steps. He heard me coming and turned around and I didn’t stop until I was practically on him, my body colliding into his. He gripped me by the shoulders, holding me up as my knees buckled.

“Rachel, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Felicity.” I was trying to catch my breath and get everything out at the same time. “Felicity’s the one who’s been doing this to us. She’s the Masked Man.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I pulled the mask off her myself. She attacked Thayer.”

“What?”

“Just now. She stabbed him. He needs help.”

Freddie pulled me in, enveloping me in tight arms.

“It’s okay.” He whispered it into my hair. And then he asked, “Are you scared?”

“Yes,” I said, trembling.

“Good.”

“What?” I pulled back, searching Freddie’s face. All I saw there was a smile.

He took something out of his pocket and slipped it over his head. The white rubber mask stared back at me. Freddie wore it like a blue ribbon.

“That isn’t funny, Freddie.”

“The test is almost finished, Rachel.” From his other pocket, he drew out a switchblade, expertly flicking open the blade. “All you have to do … is scream.”

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