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

  "Omigod…" Colleen gasped, and unconsciously backed up against the wall.

  Without warning, Denny flew at the cell bars. Slamming his shoulders against them, he thrust his arms through. His fingers took the shape of talons as he clawed the air. Overextending his arms, he was only inches away from Colleen. All the while, he made unintelligible, guttural noises.

  Suddenly Officer Radley came running toward her. His billy club in hand, he struck at Denny's arms. Denny howled like a wounded animal and fell back onto the floor in front of the cot. Taking Colleen gently by the shoulders once more, Radley escorted her out of the cellblock.

  "Whoa," he said, whistling through his teeth. "That's why we got video cameras in this place." When they got back upstairs, he asked if she was all right.

  "Yeah, I'm okay," she said, barely able to speak. Officer Radley gave her a soft drink, and even offered to drive her home. Colleen politely declined the ride. She wanted to get home, but arriving by police cruiser would surely upset her parents. And she didn't want to have to explain how she had ended up there instead of Mrs. Wodell's house. Thanking Officer Radley for his help, Colleen left. For a moment, she thought of going to Mrs. Wodell's. It seemed forever since she had seen Lance. But he would have to wait.

  * * *

  Once home, Colleen went quickly to her room and prepared for bed. Sleep was elusive at first, but finally came after reading distracted her from a million racing thoughts.

  In her dreams, Colleen relived the scene at the police station. Only this time, the bars were made of painted Styrofoam instead of hardened steel. When Denny lunged, he smashed through them easily, and in seconds, he was upon her. And this time, Officer Radley did not come to her rescue.

  Chapter 16

  The next day, school had returned to normal — only to turn inside out again after history class.

  Class itself began with Mr. Klusky announcing that he was extending the due date for the historical-figure reports by a week. Kirk wanted to compare notes about what they had seen in Denny's office, but Colleen told him they would have to talk later. She hadn't thought the subject all the way through yet. Nor did she mention her encounter with Denny from the night before.

  Then Colleen caught a glimpse of Vicki. In her chair, several rows back, Vicki stared sinisterly at Colleen. Even after she turned around again, Colleen could still feel eyes boring into the back of her head. Vicki drummed her fingers on the top of her desk. Though the noise eluded Mr. Klusky at the very front of the room, to Colleen each little click sounded like a gunshot. Vicki had it out for her something fierce today. Colleen could feel it. She spent the rest of the period trying to figure out how to get out of the room before Vicki. No solutions presented themselves. When the bell finally rang, Vicki winked at Colleen and practically ran out into the hallway to wait.

  While Colleen pondered what to do, Kirk's voice came from beside her. "Tell Mr. Klusky." Apparently he had been watching and knew the score.

  "No, it's all right," she told him, far from sure. Steeling herself, she got up and walked toward the door. Sure enough, Vicki was waiting for her in the hallway. She started in on Colleen immediately.

  "Told ya that guy was a freak" she sneered. "How do you feel about that freak now?" She practically spat each time she said the word freak.

  "I know you're upset, Vicki," Colleen said quietly. "And I'm sorry about your friends, but…"

  "Friends?" Vicki cut in. "What do you know about friends? You think that murdering freak is your friend?"

  Vicki was trying hard to rile Colleen. And it was working. Colleen's voice rose a notch. She was aware yet another crowd was gathering. Why not? she thought dryly. These confrontations had become an almost daily event. Even Mr. Klusky had become a devoted spectator.

  "Yes, Denny is a friend. No matter what anyone thinks, he is not a murderer." Tightly coiled anger started to unwind deep inside Colleen. "And if you weren't so upset, even you would realize that."

  "I wonder what your college boyfriend would think if he knew his girl had a thing for a freak."

  Colleen didn't even want to dignify that with a response. Instead, she just shook her head disgustedly and tried to push past Vicki.

  "Hey, I'm not done with you, Colleeny-Weenie," said Vicki, blocking her path.

  So Colleen turned around and started walking the other way.

  "I said," Vicki breathed as she wrapped her hands around Colleen's neck, "I'm not done with you." Colleen froze. The hallway became preternaturally silent. Vicki started tightening her grip around Colleen's throat. "How does it feel?" she hissed. "You think it felt this way for Melina? What about Tish?"

  An adult voice rang out in the hallway. Mr. Klusky. "Vicki Stratton, you…"

  But he didn't get to finish as Colleen instinctively elbowed Vicki in the stomach. Vicki doubled over, all the air escaping her lungs with a whoosh through her mouth. Spinning quickly, Colleen grabbed the deflated girl by the shoulders and shoved her backward. She flew into the lockers with a loud bang. Vicki looked up, her eyes wide with astonishment.

  "Now, Colleen…" Mr. Klusky half said, stunned by Colleen's actions. She ignored him.

  "Look, I'm sorry if you're sad," she told Vicki. Her voice quivered only briefly. "Or mad, or whatever. But I'm not gonna let you take it out on me." Lowering her voice, she tried to make Vicki understand she meant business. "I'm not gonna let you take anything out on me anymore."

  By now the shock had worn off and Vicki started to straighten up. As Colleen turned away, she saw the evil grin reappear on the other girl's face. Its power, however, had faded. Still, Vicki got in a parting shot.

  "You think you know about people and friends," Vicki called out across the hallway. "But I know a few things myself." Her voice was fading as Colleen hurried away, but she heard Vicki's final remark quite clearly: "For one, you have fewer friends than you think."

  Vicki's derisive laugh was the last thing Colleen heard before she turned a corner. Finally out of sight, she ran straight for the nearest girls' bathroom and went to a stall. Closing the door behind her, she slid the bolt, locking herself inside. All at once, the tension from her confrontation with Vicki surfaced. Covering her face with her hands, Colleen broke down into deep sobs. It was several minutes before she could stop. The bell for the next class had rung long ago. She stayed in the stall, weeping intermittently, for the next fifteen minutes. No one else came into the bathroom during that time. By the time the bell rang for the next period, Colleen had calmed down enough to face her next class.

  * * *

  By the end of the day, Vicki had still not reappeared to wreak her revenge, as Colleen had feared. Of course, there was no telling where Vicki might be lurking. Regardless of how things had gone earlier, Colleen knew she couldn't stand a rematch so soon. Kirk had gone straight to the library after his last class, so he couldn't protect her. And Lance certainly couldn't do anything for her. He was off at college right now. Or at the library. Or at Mrs. Wodell's, for all she knew. Kirk had mentioned that Lance had moved into the librarian's house after Denny's arrest. Taken over Denny's room, even. Colleen cynically wondered if she'd ever see him again.

  Shaking off the clouds that threatened to close in on her, Colleen hurriedly left school. Soon Colleen was able to forget about Vicki and think about Denny. She wanted to find some way to help him, but could come up with nothing. Soon convinced she couldn't solve this alone, Colleen tried calling Lance at Mrs. Wodell's.

  "I'm sorry to bother you," she said. "I know you're busy."

  "Yeah," he agreed, but seemed genuinely pleased to hear her voice. "But I got a minute. What's up?"

  Colleen resisted the urge to tell him a detailed version of the day's events. "It's been… a day," she told him instead. "I'll tell you later. Can you take a break later? I need some help with something."

  "Around nine or so, I think I can take off for a bit. What's the story?" It sounded as if he was washing dishes as he talked on the phone. "Is it something I shou
ld think about in the meantime?"

  "Well, it's about Denny," she ventured.

  "Oh," he replied grimly. Colleen could tell he felt terrible about the whole thing, too. "Fine. I'll pick you up." There was a loud, metallic clang on his end of the line. "I better go."

  After saying good-bye, Colleen hung up. Better get Kirk in on this, she thought. At first she had thought just she and Lance could hash this out. They had spent little time alone together recently. But since Kirk had seen Denny's office, too, he might have some ideas. And she'd have him bring Ricky along. Sometimes he could be weird, but Ricky was basically a nice guy and sometimes, according to Kirk, came up with extremely creative solutions to problems. That kind of input might be just what they needed in a situation like this.

  When Lance picked her up that night, Colleen refused to talk about the situation until they were all together. Lance betrayed some disappointment when he realized they weren't going to be alone. She asked about Mrs. Wodell, and his end of the conversation lasted them until they got to the Jaguar. Ricky and Kirk were already at a booth when she and Lance arrived.

  "You should have seen this girl," Kirk gushed to Lance as they sat down. "She slam-dunked Vicki in the hallway at school this afternoon. It was amazing."

  "Really?" Lance was impressed. Despite Colleen's objections, Kirk related the incident, embellishing it dramatically. When the story was over, Lance was left shaking his head. "Wow," was all he could say.

  "That was probably pretty stupid of me," Colleen demurred. "I mean, things'll probably just get worse. But she made me so angry…"

  "Good!" Kirk told her, slapping her chummily on the shoulder. "It's been bugging me, like, forever. Man! I loved it when you threw her up against the locker like that! There's a girl who's gonna think twice about bullying anyone now." He took a joyful sip of Coke. "I mean, she'll probably go back to bullying, but she's got the fear o' God in her now!"

  Colleen just rolled her eyes. "I did not throw Vicki against the locker. Anyway, that's not why we're here. I wanna talk about Denny. I just don't believe he's a killer."

  Lance's reply was very measured. "I liked Denny, too, Colleen. But I don't know…"

  "So you think he did it?" Colleen demanded.

  "Not necessarily," Lance said defensively. "I'm just saying that anything's possible. I heard about those pictures, about Tish's driver's license. You know he used to stare at girls. Everybody knows that."

  "Maybe, but you look at girls, don't you?"

  Lance took this as a sort of icebreaker. "I only have eyes for you, dear," he quipped, laughing. Colleen was far from amused.

  "And what have you heard about these pictures?" she asked him.

  "You're being grilled, buddy boy," Ricky piped up from across the table.

  "I noticed," Lance replied, without a smile. But he answered Colleen's question. "Pictures of girls. Dirty stuff." He was clearly embarrassed.

  "That's what you heard!" She turned to Kirk. "What did you find in Denny's office?" she asked him.

  "Ah! The plot thickens!" Ricky snickered. Colleen silenced him with a glance.

  "Pictures of girls," Kirk answered, getting into the game. "Lots of them. Not very exciting, though."

  "Why was that?" Colleen briefly imagined herself as a powerful attorney questioning a witness. A somewhat different role for herself than that of Joan of Arc, but she liked it anyway.

  "They were all like… you." Kirk blushed, but continued. "Pretty, young… like you'd find in soap commercials or something."

  "And all the" — she turned back to Lance — "dirty stuff?"

  "None," Kirk answered. "In fact, the only skin was a bare arm or leg. Maybe. Not even any swimsuit pictures."

  "And your point would be…?" Lance asked impatiently.

  Colleen realized she might be treating Lance a bit too harshly, so she softened her approach. "Look. You look at girls. You can get away with it, 'cause you're a good-looking guy." Lance smiled — until he realized she didn't mean it as a compliment. "Think about Denny. He's ugly."

  "A monster, really," Ricky interjected.

  Instead of snapping at him, Colleen nodded. "Right. So his appearance scares people. That doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate the way others look. Even if he could never actually talk to them because of the way people react to him. Haven't you ever thought how lonely he must be?"

  Lance seemed to be trying to understand. "Well, of course. It would be terrible to have people cringing away from you all the time."

  "Exactly!" Colleen pounded the table with a closed fist. "So you try to look at people — girls, let's say…"

  "Let's!" exclaimed Ricky.

  Ignoring him, Colleen went on. "A lot of the time, no one notices, but sometimes they do. They react. The rumors of staring get started. But you like it best when you can look, but not get a negative reaction. So…"

  "Pictures!" Kirk nearly shouted. "He gets to look at the things that make him happy. And even better, they never turn away or stop smiling!"

  For the first time in her life, Colleen raised her hand for a high five. Kirk was so surprised, he almost left her hanging. But he came through just in time.

  "Okay, okay," Lance said. "So Denny collects pictures of girls — totally wholesome pictures, if what you say is true — like others collect pictures of butterflies or flowers." He scratched his head. "But what about the driver's license? That would indicate obsessive tendencies."

  Ricky snorted. "Someone at this table is in Psych 101," he laughed. Lance started to say something, but Colleen stopped him.

  "I know what you mean," she told Lance. "But just because he had it doesn't mean he stole it. He could have found it. And maybe he should have returned it, but…"

  "You're reaching," Lance told her bluntly. Then, more gently, he asked, "But what's the point of all this, anyway? The pictures don't prove anything, really. Either way."

  "I know," Colleen admitted. "That's the problem. But I think — I know — that Denny is innocent. And I think the police are assuming he did it because of the pictures and because of the rumors about Denny. And because it's just easier than considering anything else."

  "What do you expect to do about it?"

  "That's what I need you guys for. To help me figure that part out." Everyone else exchanged looks with each other, as if to say, Who, me? "Denny doesn't have anyone looking out for him. I think Mrs. Wodell would if she hadn't had the stroke. Since she can't, I guess I've convinced myself that it falls to me." Her most recent surge of power was now ebbing. "I was hoping you guys could help me figure out a way to help him, given what we know."

  "But we don't know anything," Lance told her.

  "He's right," Kirk agreed quietly. "I mean, what we said about the pictures makes sense. But so do other, less… ah… heartening possibilities."

  "You're an ultrasweet girl," Ricky managed to say without sounding patronizing. "And as of today, pretty scary — in a good way. But I don't think there's anything we can do. Except what you're doing, and that's just trying to be supportive. Positive thoughts and all that."

  Just when she thought she was drained, Colleen's anger flared and her energy surged. She stood up quickly. "That's the easy thing to do, too. Meanwhile, somebody innocent is in jail and some sicko is still out there. And no one's doing anything about it. Because it's easier not to!"

  "Whoa, Colleen!" Lance was clearly alarmed. "Calm down."

  She turned on him. "This isn't something I just think. It is an absolute truth that I know for certain. I don't know how, but I know." Tears began to stream down her face. "And I need your help to prove it." She began to say something else, then turned and fled the table.

  * * *

  Minutes later, Lance found her waiting near the passenger door to his car.

  "I think I'd better take you home," he said quietly. She agreed. Colleen broke the ensuing silence after a few blocks.

  "I'm sorry," she told Lance.

  "It's okay."

  "It
's just that I've been feeling so weird. Everything that's been going on. Lately I feel like I know the truth about so many things that I can't even say." She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "And when I can say it, I can't prove it."

  "Things have been crazy lately," Lance agreed. "I think your fight with Vicki showed things are coming to a head for you, somehow. Whatever… You sound like you could use some sleep."

  Colleen fell silent again, lost in swirling thoughts.

  "I'm gonna drive past Mrs. Wodell's house on the way to taking you home," he said more brightly. "Mrs. Gilliam from next door is there, but I just want to drive by and make sure the house hasn't burned down or anything."

  They were three blocks away when they noticed the flashing police lights. One block away, they realized the police cars were parked in front of Mrs. Wodell's house. Lance stepped on the gas and zoomed up the street. Some of the flashing lights came from an ambulance. Lance's car screeched to a halt. Without speaking, he and Colleen leapt out of the car and ran up the front walk. A police officer stopped them.

  "I'm Lance Mathews," he explained. "Mrs. Wodell's caretaker. What happened?"

  The police officer studied Lance suspiciously for a moment, then jerked a thumb toward the front door. "That's what happened," he said.

  Almost on cue, paramedics appeared, dragging a gurney through the front door. On it rested a figure covered by a white sheet. A dark red stain was spreading on the sheet. As the gurney bounced down the steps, a limp arm flopped out from underneath the sheet, and before a paramedic could tuck it back in, Colleen saw the smooth scar tissue.

  Stifling a scream, she turned to Lance.

  "Oh no!" Colleen cried. "Denny!"

  Lance put his arm around Colleen and asked the policeman what had happened.

  "About an hour ago," the officer explained, "the deceased escaped after pretending to have suffered an injury and overpowering the officer he lured into the cell. Apparently he came straight here. Officers arrived just as the deceased was attempting to strangle the old woman."