Freddy Krueger's Tales of Terror #4: Twice Burned Read online

  "Maybe."

  Lanced stopped, bringing Colleen to a halt in front of him. He looked into her eyes with deep concern.

  "You really should learn to stick up for yourself," he said gently. "You shouldn't let anyone walk all over you like that."

  "Oh, Vicki doesn't really bother me," Colleen said.

  Somewhere behind them, a bush rustled.

  Lance held her hand, laughing. "Oh, and I suppose those tears coming out of your eyes were because of the onions in my hamburger?"

  At first, Colleen didn't know what to say. No one ever seemed to understand her point of view. But Lance was new to her, and she to him, so he deserved at least a chance to understand.

  "Yes, she upsets me at the moment." Colleen shrugged. "But she's just the way she is. There's nothing I can do to change her. That's why I forgave her."

  A twig snapped nearby, but Lance did not seem to notice.

  "Maybe, but she doesn't have to be mean to you, and you don't have to let her. Tell her to peddle her wares elsewhere!" Lance's eyes wanted her to laugh, so she did.

  "But if I fight her off, she'll go tease someone else. If I can take it, it might as well be me."

  Lance pretended to stick his finger down his throat and made gagging noises. "Oh please. I think you've been reading too many books about Joan of Arc. She was a martyr. You don't have to be."

  "I've really barely read anything yet. Just enough to know I admire her. You know, she was younger that me when she died?"

  "I know." By his tone of voice, Colleen could tell Lance was disappointed by her replies. After a thought, he tried to make light of the situation. "If she had stuck up for herself, she might have lived long enough to meet a nice guy, have some fun, and find out there's more to life than giving in to bullies — or angry villagers with too much time and fire on their hands."

  Again Colleen laughed, but this time an image of the final moments of her dream flashed in her head, pinching it off. Lance immediately became serious.

  "All I'm saying is, you deserve better than that."

  They walked a few more minutes in silence. Silence, that is, except for the snapping of twigs that seemed to come more frequently. And the sounds were getting closer. Colleen stopped abruptly and turned.

  "Did you hear that? Those sounds?"

  "It's nothing," he said.

  "I don't know, Lance. I'd swear we're being followed."

  "It's just the squirrels, Colleen. Here, I'll show you." Lance dragged Colleen to the edge of the light. Nothing could be seen in the darkness beyond. "I'll scatter those critters." He winked at her and shouted into the bushes, "Boo!"

  Silence was the only response.

  "C'mon, let's head back to the car," he said, and they began to retrace their steps.

  After a few seconds, another crackling sound came from behind them. Colleen willed herself not to turn around.

  Just then, a cry like that of a wounded beast rose, right behind them. Lance spun around and a blur of motion knocked him off his feet.

  At the same time, a second, darker shape emerged from the bushes and descended upon Colleen.

  Chapter 6

  Both the black-clothed figure and the one struggling with Lance burst into laughter at the same time.

  "Kirk!" Lance yelled. "You jerk!" With that, he threw his cousin off him onto the pathway and scrambled to his feet.

  "Ow!" Kirk cried. "You didn't have to be so rough!" he said, and rubbed his arm.

  Colleen finally got a look at Kirk's accomplice, whom she recognized as Ricky Santana. His skin was the cadaverous shade of someone who didn't get outside very much, except maybe at night. This was because he spent all his free time in the dark watching horror movies. One day he hoped to write and direct the ultimate horror movie, and until then, he was cultivating a perfectly creepy image.

  "Hi, Colleen," Ricky said casually as he went to pull Kirk to his feet.

  Lance appeared at Colleen's side, still breathing hard from the scare. Now standing, Kirk started laughing again.

  "Man oh man, you should have seen you two. Priceless! Absolutely!" He and Ricky burst out laughing. Lance, however, was not amused. He rushed Kirk and pushed him into Ricky.

  "What's your problem, pudgy?" The remark stung Kirk. Ricky stopped laughing.

  "Cool out, Lance. It was just a joke. You know, like when you'd come and visit and we'd spend all day scaring my mom."

  "We were eight then," Lance growled. "Now, grow up. I don't appreciate being spied on!" He turned to Colleen. "Let's get away from these kids." He took her hand and began to march off.

  "Look at the big college stud!" Kirk yelled after them. "Afraid of a little scare!"

  Lance ignored the taunts as they walked back to his car.

  * * *

  Kirk hung his head when he heard Lance's car pull away. Ricky clapped him on the back.

  "Aw, cheer up," he told his friend. "All is not lost."

  "But I really like her, Ricky. I'm serious. She's my best friend in the world."

  "Oh, and what am I, chopped liver?" Ricky crossed his arms and tapped his foot indignantly.

  "Get outta here. I don't want to marry you."

  "I guess I better return the dress, huh?"

  "Stop that! You're not helping!" Sometimes his friend Ricky could be such a pain.

  Ricky managed a straight face and tried to be supportive. "Look, this is just like a movie. You've experienced two out of the three classic stages of a situation like this."

  "Which are?"

  "Boy meets girl. You and Colleen got that out of the way years ago. You are currently in the boy-loses-girl stage." His sly grin returned. "And may I add, you've done a great job at that."

  "Look, you want me to sock you one?" Kirk balled his fists threateningly.

  "Jeez, you're touchy," Ricky replied, rolling his eyes and taking a step backward. "Anyway, there's plenty of time for the boy-gets-girl stage."

  "Yeah, but how's that gonna happen? Before, when there was no competition, she still didn't go for me. Now she's dating Lance." Kirk hung his head once more, but his fists were still balled. In a low voice he declared, "I hate him!"

  Ricky shook his head. "Now, now. There's no use letting emotion get in the way of matters of the heart."

  "So what do I do?" Even though Ricky was a pain, he was smart, and Kirk had the feeling that Ricky was about to be a big help indeed.

  "Well, let me give it some thought, but for one, mellow out. Don't compete."

  "If I don't do anything, where will that get me?"

  "I didn't say don't do anything," Ricky said, frustrated that he'd have to explain. "Let me put it this way. Do you think our little stunt tonight is going to endear you to Colleen? I think not." Kirk reluctantly agreed. "Remember, a person's only truly formidable opponent is himself." Ricky smiled, basking in the glow of his own wisdom.

  As they started back down the path, Kirk just had to ask, "Where did you get that one, Ricky?"

  "Oh, it just came to me." The smile still played on his lips. Then he shrugged. "Then again, maybe I heard it in a movie or read it in a book. I don't remember."

  * * *

  After a few minutes of driving in silence, Colleen finally spoke. "Don't be too mad at Kirk. You know what he's going through."

  "Yeah, I know. But someone coulda gotten hurt." Lance shook his head in frustration. "He really has to just grow up and deal."

  "I'm sure he will, eventually."

  Lance chuckled. "I dunno. As long as I've known him, dealing hasn't been one of his strong points." He threw his hands up, momentarily taking them off the wheel. Colleen's breath caught, but he didn't notice. "You mind if I take you home now? It's getting late."

  Colleen didn't mind at all. The sooner tomorrow came, the happier she'd be. Then she'd try to have a normal day.

  At Colleen's house, Lance walked her to the door and kissed her good night. It took her breath away as much now as it had the first time. Inside, Colleen watched throug
h the living room window as his car pulled out of the driveway. When he was gone, she walked quietly up to her room and prepared for bed.

  As she wrapped herself in her covers, she wondered what kind of dreams the events of the day would inspire. Would she dream of Lance? Or would she dream of books and fire and monsters?

  * * *

  About the time Colleen was drifting off to sleep, Mrs. Wodell was just finishing a cup of hot tea. She was dressed in her favorite, flowered housecoat, but the bright daisies that decorated it were in dramatic contrast to Mrs. Wodell's dark mood. The scene in the library with that horrid girl kept replaying in her mind.

  To be fair, it wasn't even just Vicki Stratton. Most of the children nowadays had a disrespectful streak in them. Not that nice girl Colleen Martini, of course. Or the new employee, Lance Mathews. It was hard to believe such a nice boy was related to Kirk Newman. Of course, Kirk wasn't so bad, in the scheme of things. He was just mischievous, all in the name of trying too hard to be something he wasn't. She could forgive him. But Vicki Stratton and the others, she could not. And it seemed their legions were growing daily.

  No respect, she thought. Girls in my day didn't dress like that unless they were prostitutes. Not even the slightest sense of decorum or responsibility.

  Maybe I'm too old for this, Mrs. Wodell thought as she rinsed her teacup and put it in the sink. Maybe it would be nice to just go to the library to read and enjoy. She did enjoy her books; they truly were her children. And unlike the real children in the library, they never misbehaved. Oh, a writer would put in a naughty word now and then, but it wasn't the book's fault. And besides, naughty words didn't offend Mrs. Wodell. She'd heard them used plenty of times by real people. All kinds of people talked like that all the time when they thought no one was listening. As long as that kind of language wasn't directed toward Mrs. Wodell, that was just fine with her.

  Turning on the light by her bedside, she picked up the thick volume of short stories that lay on the nightstand. It was unthinkable that Mrs. Wodell would even try to sleep without reading first. Opening to the page marked by an elegant leather bookmark, Mrs. Wodell settled into the pillows she had propped up behind her.

  A contented smile formed on the lips of Mrs. Wodell's crinkled, paper-white face. Her breathing was strong and steady. Less than an hour later, she was reading the words "The End," finishing a story. But as she turned to begin the next, her contented smile suddenly twisted into a hideous snarl. The book dropped to the floor beside her bed. Involuntarily Mrs. Wodell's eyes crossed Panic gripped her, and she tried to scream. But she could not. Mercifully, she blacked out just as her thoughts turned traitor, becoming an agonizing, unintelligible secret code.

  Chapter 7

  Around noon the next day, the phone rang at Colleen's house. Barely shifting her attention from her research materials, she picked up the receiver.

  "Yeah?" she asked absently.

  "Hola! It's me," said Kirk in a rush. Colleen tensed. "Look, I'm at the library, and I can't talk long. Mrs. Wodell's in the hospital with a stroke."

  "Oh my God!"

  "Totally," Kirk continued, his voice all excitement and little sympathy. "She didn't show up for work this morning, and you know how she is. A house would have to fall on her to keep her away from this place."

  "Kirk…!" He never let up, Colleen thought angrily.

  "Just listen," he told her quickly, his tone now softened a bit. "After she didn't show up, and we call and call and she doesn't answer her phone, Denny goes over there. Takes the bus, even! Then he takes the bus all the way back and runs into the library like a madman! Scared the hell out of a few people checking out books. So he grabs Lance, who figures out — smart guy that he is — that something's wrong and drives back to Mrs. Wodell's house with Denny. When they get there, Denny points through the window, and they can see Mrs. Wodell lying in her bed, all twisted in her sheets like a…" He was about to rattle off another barb, but thought better of it. "Anyway, they break into her house, find that she's unconscious, and call 9-1-1. Lance just called from the hospital to tell me about the stroke."

  "That's terrible." Colleen felt sick, recalling how Vicki had cursed at Mrs. Wodell the day before.

  "Yeah, it is pretty awful." For the first time, Kirk seemed sincerely troubled by the news. "Anyway… that's not the only reason I called."

  Colleen was instantly suspicious. "I thought you couldn't talk long."

  "I can't. With Lance at the hospital, the only other person here besides me is the part-time librarian, Mrs. Cosgrove. And I'm not being mean when I say she's dottier than Mrs. Wodell." He wasn't just being mean. Even Colleen knew about Mrs. Cosgrove. "So I better get back before someone needs a book checked out and she has a fit over the computer. But besides news about Mrs. Wodell, I wanted to apologize for last night. I guess I was upset and acted like a kid having a tantrum."

  His apology was sweet and sincere. "It's all right, Kirk. I understand."

  "Thanks. But that doesn't make it right. Ricky said something to me that made some sense. I keep that up, and I could lose you as a friend. And what would that get me? I don't want to do that." Colleen was deeply touched. "So I'd like to make it up to you. Ricky's helping me and we've got a surprise for tonight. Will you come? With Lance, of course. It'll be the four of us."

  "What's the plan?"

  A laugh escaped Kirk. "You dope! It's a surprise. All you need to do is be ready when we pick you up around seven-thirty. Okay?"

  "Sure. If it's okay with Lance."

  "I'll hit 'im up when he gets back from the hospital. This'll be fun."

  By the excitement in his voice, whatever he had planned did sound like fun. And Colleen wanted to give Kirk a chance to make amends. It wasn't often that someone offered.

  "Okay, great."

  "Excellent!" Kirk nearly shouted. "I better go. I hear the computer beeping like Mrs. Cosgrove is torturing it. Gotta swoop to the rescue now. 'Bye!"

  Kirk hung up and Colleen smiled. Things were going to work out with Kirk after all. What a relief! Turning back to her books, Colleen didn't look up again until her mother called her for dinner.

  * * *

  A car horn honked in front of Colleen's house at exactly seven-thirty. Colleen pulled on a jean jacket and ran out to Kirk's car. He drove a convertible Mustang. The car wasn't the Porsche Spyder that his idol, James Dean, had driven, but was sporty enough to fit Kirk's would-be hip image. If only he didn't look so out of place behind the wheel. Oh well, thought Colleen.

  Taking advantage of the warm night air, Kirk had taken the Mustang's top down. Ricky sat in the passenger seat, Lance in the back.

  "Hop in!" Kirk told her. He preferred that passengers leap into his car instead of using the door. To him, that was the pinnacle of cool. Before Colleen could argue, Lance put his arms around her and lifted her into the backseat with him.

  "Hey!" she cried, giggling at the same time. Lance kept one arm around her after she was finally sitting. She snuggled against it.

  "You looked like you needed a little help with your hop," he told her.

  "Well, thank you," she told him. "You've made me very hoppy!" Everyone in the car groaned. Kirk put the car in gear and drove away. "So where are we going?"

  "You'll see when we get there," Kirk said mysteriously. He and Ricky exchange a conspiratorial wink.

  Colleen turned to Lance.

  "Don't look at me, I don't know. Hey, did you hear about Mrs. Wodell?"

  "Oh yeah!" Colleen had nearly forgotten. "How is she doing?"

  "Not so bad, luckily. Do you know the story about how Denny found her and all that?" Colleen nodded. "She's in the hospital right now. She had a stroke, but not as bad as they first thought. Anyway, she'll be going home tomorrow. They're just keeping her there today while arrangements are being made for her at home. Someone will be there during the day to cook for her and care for her. And Denny's going to move into a spare room, make sure she'll be all right overnight." Then Lance l
ooked like the cat who ate the canary. "And that's not all."

  "What?" Lance looked ready to bust.

  "I've volunteered to come in evenings to help with Mrs. Wodell's therapy and read to her before bed." Despite his obvious pride, Lance still managed to remain humble.

  "Nurse Mathews to the rescue!" Kirk cracked from the front seat.

  Ricky snickered and adopted a voice like an old-time radio announcer. "Beware villains! For he wields the mighty, magic bedpan!" Kirk gave his friend a high five as they both burst into new laughter. Lance tried to ignore them.

  "I just thought it made sense for everyone. It'll save Mrs. Wodell money on home care, and it'll be good practice for me for med school. On Monday I'm gonna try to see if I can get some school credit for it."

  Ricky was not done ragging on Lance. "Aren't we the paragon of altruism?" he said sarcastically.

  "Shut up, Ricky!" Colleen swatted him on the back of the head. "Lance would do it anyway. But I bet you wouldn't volunteer to do it in any case."

  Ricky twisted around in his seat to face them. He looked wounded. "Of course I would. Lancelot just beat me to it, is all."

  "Yeah right." Lance was thoroughly unconvinced. "You kidding? Alone in that house with a gibbering, drooling stroke victim" — he held his hands up to his face, mimicking a palsied crone — "and an acid-scarred demon from the depths?" For this he glowered menacingly. "Heck, that's right up my alley!"

  "Ricky, you're heartless."

  He blew her a kiss. "I do my best."

  Colleen ducked so the imaginary kiss would miss her and fly out the back of the car.

  "Hey, Kirk, where are you taking us, anyway?" Lance's voice had changed. He sounded extremely wary.

  All at once, Colleen realized the air had changed. It was still warm, but the scent of sulfur was in the air. Even though they were driving over fifty miles an hour, only the faintest breeze blew through her hair. Colleen looked around. Kirk had driven out of the city. Gas jets from ancient steel mills lit the sky in the distance. Colleen had the vague sensation that she and Lance were being kidnapped.