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AltDeath.com |
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| Synopsis: | ||
| An online murder mystery club for teens discovers they have a real murder to solve when one of their members is found dead under suspicious, perhaps even paranormal circumstances. The AltDeath Club knows that their friend Rachel didn't commit suicide. Her blue lips and withered body are not the product of poison like the Rappahannock police believe. An energy vampire is prowling their isolated stretch of Northern Neck, Virginia. The AltDeathers must find the killer before they, too, fall prey to the vampire's foul trap. Through their investigation, Tori St. James, her wheelchair-bound boyfriend Matt, and the rest of the AltDeath Club uncover the truth--that cyberspace ... has fangs. Prologue RACHEL SWUNG ONE leg over the windowsill and shimmied down the maple tree outside her bedroom. The branches ended about ten feet from the ground. Although they never talked about it, her parents had trimmed the tree way up hoping it would keep her from ducking out at night. What a joke. Dropping the rest of the way, she landed with a crunch on a pile of autumn leaves. The smell of smoke from distant fireplaces tinged the night. Rachel tugged her short skirt back down and picked at her purple paisley blouse so it pulled across her chest. Prometheus would be pleased. She thought again about the last e-mail he had sent her. Subj: It Is Time Date: November 5, 8: 06: 59 PM From: Prometheus@hotmail.com To: HotRachel@AltDeath.com My dearest... Tonight is the night. A scream will pierce the darkness. Your blood will run cold. And when the full moon scowls from its zenith, we will finally meet. Then we will be together in the eternal night. All my love to you... --Prometheus A quiver curled through her. This was the thrill she craved, not the fake stuff they manufactured with the AltDeath club. Tori, Dexter, and the others just didn't get it. They wrote little murder mysteries for each other hoping for a jolt of excitement. Rachel knew better. Prometheus had taught her you weren't living unless you took the risks you dreamed about. The AltDeath Club had its uses, though. She first met Prometheus in the group's online chat room. Rachel snuck along the side of the house. The full moon bounced her reflection off the living room window. She paused and stroked the tendrils of her long red hair, wrapping a few stray curls around her finger to make them lie down. Man, she looked washed out. And those bags under her eyes--she'd been tired lately and her late-night adventures didn't help any, but she hadn't realized how old she looked, and not in a good way. Perhaps one more touch-up. She applied some blush and plum lipstick from the tiny purse at her waist. A face scowled back at her through the glass. Rachel jumped then frowned back, raising her finger to her lips. "Shhh..." she whispered. The figure opened the living room window. "Take me with you. I want to go, too," her thirteen-year-old sister Cathy said. "No," Rachel said. "And lower your voice." She didn't. "Take me or I tell." Cathy had her sister's fiery red hair but she kept it cropped short so it crimped into tiny curls like a clown's wig. "You can't come. What are you doing up anyhow? Go to bed." "Some people don't get to have a computer in their room. Some people have to share the crappy one in the living room." "And?" "You're not the only one with a boyfriend. I had to e-mail Danny." "You don't even know where I'm going. How do you know you want to go?" "If it's worth sneaking out in the middle of the night, it's cool enough for me." Cathy popped out the window screen and straddled the ledge. The full moon loomed overhead. Prometheus could be waiting for her right now. "Look, you can't come. But if you shut up and promise not to say a word to Mom and Dad--ever--you can use my computer to e-mail Danny." "Tomorrow, too?" Rachel sighed. "Whatever. I'm late." "So what's the password?" Cathy asked, not moving from the window ledge. "The computer won't finish booting up without it." "And how do you know it needs a password?" "Just give me the freaking password or I'll rat on you." Rachel narrowed her eyes. "It's pandora, all lower case. And if you change it once you get in, I'm going to kick your butt from here to Richmond." "But then you'd have to tell Mom and Dad why you have a password on it to begin with." Cathy smirked and ducked back into the house, sliding the screen back in place and shutting the window behind her. Did Cathy know? She couldn't possibly. Cathy couldn't get on her computer or she wouldn't have asked for her password. Still, it unnerved her. She couldn't have anyone finding those files, especially not her bratty sister. She couldn't worry about it now. Prometheus called. Choosing the shortest path to the circle of oaks, she crept along the edge of the yard until she found the break in the forest undergrowth. The dewy grass slid through her toes and she wished she hadn't worn sandals, no matter how slim they made her feet look. Frogs croaked and unseen animals rustled in the underbrush--raccoons, maybe mice. She was late. Good. He'd want her more if he had to wait. She shuddered in anticipation. Or was it something else that chilled her? Rachel glanced back at the house one more time. Her parents slept soundly, but in her own bedroom window she could see the faint glow of the computer monitor. Cathy had wasted no time getting onto her Mac. A thought sliced across her brain--would she ever see the white two-story again? Rachel shook her apprehension and darted into the forest. Her stomach might be somersaulting into her ribs but the fear seared her brain and made her feel as if her actions mattered, that they could change her life. Or end it. A lone owl screamed from the trees. It dove into the bushes and swooped back into the darkness with a struggling rodent in its claws. Rachel skidded and turned her ankle, sending a stab of pain up through her leg. A cold blast of November air rippled her skirt and she shivered. Okay, so she hadn't picked the best clothes for hiking through the woods, but she'd still look devastating if she could make it there in one piece. A circle of oak trees loomed ahead. For as long as she could remember the circle of oaks protected her. They comforted her when she cried. They hid her when Cathy and the rest of her irritatingly middle-class family closed in on her. They sheltered her the night she and Clive had first been together. But Prometheus was no Clive. Clive might play the bad boy with his black leather and tattoos, but underneath he was just as much of a pushover as Tori was. Prometheus though, Prometheus was different. She didn't know what would happen when they finally met after weeks of chatting online. His words made her pulse race, but would the man? Time to find out. Rachel stepped inside the circle of trees. "Prometheus, my love, I'm here." Her voice bounced off the flat boulders that lined the clearing. No answer. Rachel dug her watch out of her purse. Ten after midnight. She tapped her foot. How dare he keep her waiting, even if she was late? He'd better have a good excuse. Pulling out her Internet-enabled purple cell phone, she logged on to the AltDeath web site to see if he had e-mailed her. The air hung stagnant and oppressive. Even the late autumn wind no longer howled outside the oaks. It was as if the trees, too, waited for Prometheus. The forest cloaked itself in silence. A voice tumbled forth from the darkness. "My dearest. We are together at last." Chills. And the smell of hot circuits. Rachel's gaze darted along the edge of the trees. Black, boiling smoke curled at the base of the oaks. The air surged with electricity. Twigs of lightning clipped through the smoke. "Prometheus?" An answer echoed from the other side of the glen. He exhaled as he spoke, his voice deep and rolling. "My darling..." Rachel turned. "I can't see you. Where are you?" "Oh, but I can see you, my Rachel." His voice seemed to be coming from the branches above her head. Rachel's voice tightened. "Prometheus--" "Are you frightened?" Now the voice originated from her left. "Yes. Now stop it. Just come out." "Come out?" His voice resonated from all sides of the circle. "If you don't come out now I'm leaving." Rachel tried to sound impatient instead of terrified. "This isn't funny anymore." She poked her purple cell phone antenna down and as she stuffed the phone into her purse the antenna popped off. "Very well." A dark figure peeled itself from the bark of the oaks. Salt air surged into her nostrils. How? she thought. We're miles from the ocean... Rachel backed away. "I don't think this is such a good idea," she said, inching toward the path. Cast in shadows, she couldn't see his face, but right now she was pretty sure she didn't want to. "Maybe we should have met at Denny's or something." "Ahh...so mundane, aren't we?" Prometheus scoffed. "A little bit of adventure and you turn into a sniveling, unimaginative waste of skin." "Now wait a second," Rachel began. "I'm not--" In two steps the figure crossed the ring of trees. He sealed her mouth with his hand and whispered into her ear. "Oh yes you are," Prometheus hissed. Rachel struggled in his hot grasp. She clutched at his clothes, kicked at his crotch--anything to get away from this monster. Each time she only hit air. He held her so tightly and yet she couldn't hurt him back. Finally she lashed out with her well-manicured nails and caught a chain that circled his neck. She pulled. The chain and its medallion flew backwards into the air. "No more fighting, my love. It expends valuable energy." His words lulled her. The full moon that had guided her through the forest now diminished. Darkness invaded her and honey ran through her veins. Rachel gazed up into Prometheus's intense eyes. At last she could see his face. She gulped in recognition, unable to speak. He answered her silent question in his normal voice. "And who were you expecting?" The tone changed back to the reassuring lilt. "Prometheus?" She tried to answer but the words stuck in her throat. Prometheus tilted his head back and laughed. The sound faded, transforming itself into warm, salty waves upon which Rachel floated on a sea of sensation--but it was real. Twin moons scowled down at her from a foreign sky. Prometheus's arms rose up from the ocean's floor. For a moment they wrapped comfortingly around her waist. Then, with a quick jerk, they pulled her under. She wasted her last breath on a scream that filled her lungs with the ocean's unforgiving brine. Chapter One WHERE THE HECK is Rachel? Tori St. James thought, pacing the nearly empty hallway of Rappahannock High School. The tardy bell clanged and Tori slammed her locker. Great, now she was late for first period. It was just geometry, and Mrs. Ford was the biggest pushover in Northern Neck Virginia, but it frosted her. She expected her best friend to show up when she had promised. Tori raked her fingers through her spiky black hair. What was she thinking? This was Rachel she was talking about. She had better show up by second period. Rachel was her lab partner in marine biology and they had split the prep chapters. Without Rachel she'd only be able to turn in half the assignment. She waited five more minutes and then skulked into her first period class. She ducked her head and whispered, "Sorry, I was in the bathroom. You know, female stuff." Mrs. Ford plucked at the gray sweater clinging to her shoulders. A strand of pearls clasped the sides together. "That's fine, dear. Go and take a seat." Tori sat down next to Dexter Huntington, the webmaster of the AltDeath mystery club. He really got off on creating the website where they solved their mysteries. He was a little bit too much of a techie sometimes, but he let her copy his geometry homework, which ramped him up a couple of notches in her book. AltDeath stood for Alternate Deaths. The group took turns writing mysteries for their website, www.AltDeath.com. Each mystery featured club members taking turns as both victim and murderer. Together they role-played many alternate lives, and of course, deaths. It made life in the middle of nowhere a bit more bearable. After class Tori grabbed Dexter. "Have you seen Rachel?" she asked. "She was in the AltDeath chat room Sunday night, but she logged off pretty early and I haven't seen her since. She's probably ditching again." "The least the wench could have done is take me with her," Tori said, and laughed. "Can I borrow your cell phone?" "Sure." Dexter pulled a black Nokia out of his pocket. "And give it back next period?" Dexter sighed, pretending it was a huge imposition. "Oh, very well." He grinned, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "You girls just love to walk all over me, don't you?" Dexter tugged on his black Got root? tee shirt and unclipped the cell phone from the belt hoop of his straight-legged jeans. Tori patted him on the arm and then headed for second period. "Thanks!" she called back over her shoulder. Tori quickly dialed Rachel's number. "Hi, this is Rachel," the message said. "You know what to do at the beep--say something nasty." Rachel's devilish giggle cut short at the tone. "Rachel, call me on Dexter's cell phone. You're not allowed to cut class without me. Call me." That bum. She had better be at the dentist or in the hospital or something. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. What if something really was wrong? She wanted to be mad at Rachel, and she had every right, but suddenly she just felt weird. What if she had been in a car accident or-- "Where the heck is Rachel?" Veronica asked, playfully grabbing Tori by the arm. Veronica was another member of the AltDeath club. She was super-model material, a leggy blonde who always dressed in the latest fashions. Today she wore a short Tarlatan skirt, a white blouse, and a pair of impossibly high heels. The heels gave her an excuse to grab her preppy boyfriend Howard's bicep whenever she tottered on them. Despite her killer looks, Veronica was okay. Tori tried to shove her anxiety away. "She didn't show up to first period?" Tori asked the couple. Veronica, Howard, and Rachel shared first period English. "Nope. And our mid-term writing assignments were due. It's a third of our grade. She'll already be dropped a letter grade, assuming she did it at all. I swear, that girl's never going to make it out of senior year." The warning bell rang. Veronica swerved into her second period class with a wave, still clutching Howard's muscular arm. Friggin' Rachel. She was going to make her late for marine biology. And Mrs. Aumiller wasn't the pushover Mrs. Ford was. A boy of about seventeen with short black hair, vivid green eyes and a clenched jaw pushed the joystick on his wheelchair and zoomed over to Tori. He narrowly missed a couple of kids dashing for class. "Matt!" She beamed at him. He didn't return her grin. Something was wrong. Matt's bloodshot eyes glistened. Red blotches covered his face as if he'd been crying. That wasn't like Matt at all. Was he angry? "I tried to find you before first period, but I got here late," he said, barely choking out the words. "Matt, what is it?" Tori asked. "What's wrong?" "You don't know then, do you?" "Know what?" Tori felt her stomach sink. "Nobody does then. Nobody..." Matt seemed lost in his own world. It was so strange; Matt was the most together member of the AltDeath club. She hadn't seen him like this before. The final bell rang. Down at the end of the hall Mrs. Eirnman called out to them. "You two, get to class." Tori grabbed Matt by the shoulders and brought her face inches from his. "Tell me what's happened. Now." "It's Rachel--" He stared down at his lap. Mrs. Eirnman strode purposefully toward them. "What about Rachel?" Tori asked. "She's--" "I'm so sick and tired of you kids thinking you can waltz in and out of class as you please. You're both getting detentions," Mrs. Eirnman said, digging in her pocketbook for her pad of detention slips. Tori ignored her. It wasn't as if she hadn't had detentions before. "She's what, Matt?" Matt raised his gaze to meet hers. "She's dead, Tori. There was a suicide note." Tori felt her whole body go numb. "Dead?" Mrs. Eirnman sighed. "You kids will make up any excuse if you think it will get you out of trouble. It's not going to work this time." She handed a yellow detention slip to Tori and pointed down the hall. "Off, young lady." She handed another one to Matt and pointed in the other direction. "And you, too. Go!" The teacher was not going to let up. Tori stumbled into chemistry. It had to be a joke. But Matt looked serious. Deadly serious. So it must be Rachel pulling a prank on everyone. It wouldn't be the first time. But this was pretty intense. Killing yourself was not something you joked around about. What could have happened? Tori couldn't finish the lab. Rachel was supposed to have been her lab partner. She sat through the class in a fog, trying to look busy when all she could do was stare at the clock, counting the minutes to dismissal. She didn't even bother turning in the lab worksheet when the bell finally rang. She searched the halls for Matt without success. Where could he be? She did, however, stumble into Dexter. "Fork it over," he teased, holding his hand out for the cell phone. "Oh, Dexter!" Tori cried, collapsing into his arms. Dexter stiffened and placed the tips of his fingers on her back as though afraid to hug her. "What's wrong with you?" Tori told him what Matt had said. "If it's true, I can find out easily enough. I've got Advanced Networking fourth period, but I'm already done with my project. I'll do some research. If you see the others, tell them to meet me in the computer lab at noon. Just try not to freak out until then, okay?" Tori wished she could track down Matt so she could find out what was going on. Besides, he'd understand what she was going through. After Rachel, Matt was her second best friend. She often wished they were more, but he gave off mixed signals. Even if he was just a friend, she needed him now. Around her, people whispered and pointed. Word had traveled. Whether it was true or not, by the time they knew the whole story, it would be blown so far out of proportion that it would be hard to convince anyone of the truth. Blown out of proportion? How could anyone blow a suicide out of proportion? Tori tried to shake it off. She had to focus. She couldn't be late again. Missing three classes in a row wasn't going to cut it. Grandma Ginny would be livid when she found out. She might even call her parents in New York. Tori shuddered. She raced towards third period digital design class, sliding into the seat by the door as the bell rang. They just didn't give you enough time between classes. After third period she headed straight for her next class. She and Matt both had Mr. Crile for American Government. Maybe at last she'd be able to find out what had happened to Rachel. She discovered Matt waiting for her outside the classroom. They sat in the far back corner. "I couldn't find you," Matt and Tori said simultaneously. Despite the gravity of the situation, they both laughed. Tori sobered. "Matt, please tell me it's not true." Matt reached over and touched her arm. "I wish I could." Tori fought back the tears. "How did you find out?" "Police scanner. I listen to it sometimes when I can't sleep. When the call came through, I recognized the address. I can't tell you how horrible it was to hear the crackly voice of police dispatcher describe Rachel as if she was a kid on a milk carton. And then when they found the body--" The bell rang. Tori noticed the glances she was getting from her classmates. Everyone knew she and Rachel were best friends. Had been. They had been best friends. Rachel was dead. BY THE TIME Tori and Matt reached the computer lab on the other side of the school, Veronica, Howard, and Dexter had already arrived. A row of five PCs lined one wall and a row of Macs lined the other. Dexter minimized his Internet browser window as the door opened. Veronica blotted her eyeliner with a tissue. Dexter must have told her already. Leave it to Veronica to worry about what she looked like at a time like this. Howard sat with his arms folded across his chest, staring out into space. He wore a pink polo shirt, khaki pants, and penny loafers--Mr. G.Q. "I'm almost finished," Dexter said, his fingers flying on the keyboard. "One more minute." Tori hugged Veronica who blew her nose into a tissue. "It's okay," Tori murmured. "It's going to be okay." "It can't be true. It just can't. Rachel was one of the most popular girls at school. She can't have killed herself." Veronica's voice escalated to a hysterical pitch. Dexter swiveled the monitor so the others could see. "But it is true. She committed suicide. Left a note on her computer and everything." Matt wheeled closer. "What are we looking at?" "The police file on Rachel's death," Dexter answered. "What little there is of it, this early in the game." "How did you get that?" Tori asked. Dexter shrugged. "It's no big deal. It's not like the Northern Neck police have sophisticated anti-hacker deterrents. They've got a firewall and that's about it." Howard leaned against the desk. "One of these days you're going to get caught, Dexter." "Too late. I already did. Trust me, it doesn't take more than once to make you a very cautious hacker." "So what else does it say?" Veronica asked, sniffling. "They found her in the woods behind her house. In our meeting place." Tori swallowed hard. The local members of the AltDeath group often met at Rachel's. There was a circle of oak trees in the woods that almost formed a house. The branches were so entwined that you could sit beneath them in a heavy downpour and not get wet. Suddenly the doors to the computer lab burst open. A tall, dark-haired boy of eighteen exploded into the room. He wore a leather jacket and black jeans. His nails were long and painted black and he had a strand of thorns tattooed around his right wrist. "I knew I'd find you geeks here," he bellowed. "When there's trouble, you run to your computers. And trust me, there's trouble." |
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