Page 3 of Sweet Nightmare

Exhausted now that the last burst of adrenaline has left my body, I lean back against the door, slide down until my butt hits the floor, and then breathe. Just breathe.

Luis sinks down next to me, nodding to the first aid kit he’s dropped a few feet away. He’s taken to bringing it down here for me every day that I have chrickler duty—and, unfortunately, I’ve rarely not needed it. “We might want to get started patching you up. The bell’s going to ring in a few minutes.”

I groan. “I thought I was getting faster at this.”

“There’s faster and then there’s fast,” he says with a rueful grin. “You really don’t have to make sure every single one of the little monsters’ bowls is filled with perfectly cold ice water. Room temp will suffice.”

“It’s September. In Texas. Cold water is a necessity.”

“And what thanks do you get for your concern?” His black hair flops over his left eye as he looks at the shredded sleeve of my T-shirt—and the deep scratches below.

It’s my turn to roll my eyes as I reach for the first aid kit. “The headmaster stays off my back?”

“I’m sure your mother would understand you giving them room-temperature water if it means saving yourself copious amounts of blood loss. She is the one who insists on boarding these damn things, after all.” He eyes the large Band-Aid I’ve extracted from the kit as we’ve been talking. “Want help with that?”

“Maybe,” I answer grudgingly. “Just do the one on my back, okay? And I think the whole point of chrickler duty is that it’s a punishment, so I am not sure my mother has my feelings at the top of her list.”

He snorts in acknowledgment of this truth as he drags the collar of my red uniform shirt down just enough so that he can slap the bandage on my scratched and still-bleeding shoulder. “But it’s not like you got yourself sent to this school for some nefarious deed or big, bad behavior like the rest of us.”

“And yet here I am. The joys of being a Calder…”

“Yeah, well, Calder or not, you’ve got to lay off chrickler duty or I don’t think you’ll actually make it to graduation.”

“Oh, I’m making it to graduation,” I tell him as I slap on a few more bandages, “if for no other reason than I can finally, finally, get the hell off this island.”

I’ve been counting down the days since freshman year. Now that I’m finally a senior, I’m not about to let anything stand in the way of me getting out of this hellhole and actually starting a life somewhere where I don’t have to watch my back—and every other part of myself—every second of every day.

“One more year,” Luis says as he holds out a hand for the first aid kit. “Then we’re both out of here.”

“More like two hundred and sixty-one days.” I shove the box of bandages back in the first aid kit and hand it to him. Then I push to my feet, ignoring all the places that hurt.

As we start down the depressingly dank hallway, the lightbulb starts to sway and sizzle in the completely still corridor. “What the hell is that?” asks Luis.

“A strong suggestion that we get a move on,” I answer, because lingering in the Calder Academy basement/dungeon is never a good idea. But before we can take more than a few steps, the bulb makes a popping sound. Seconds later, a bunch of sparks explode out of it—right before the hallway is plunged into darkness.

“Well, this certainly isn’t eerie at all,” Luis deadpans, coming to a complete stop to peer hesitantly into the black.

“You can’t honestly be afraid of the dark, can you?” I can’t resist goading him as I pull my phone out of my pocket.

“Of course not. I am a wolf, you know. I do have night vision.”

“Doesn’t make you less of a chicken,” I tease.

I swipe my thumb across the flashlight app on my phone and shine the light straight down the hallway.

After all, the chricklers aren’t the only monsters down here—just the smallest and the nicest.

As if on cue, the door directly in front of Luis shakes violently on its hinges.

We don’t need any additional motivation. We both take off running, the beam of the phone flashlight bouncing along with my strides. As I look behind me to make sure that nothing is following us, the beam catches what looks like a hulking shadow in the adjacent corridor. I swing the light in its direction, but nothing’s there.

My stomach clenches because I know I saw something. But then a loud thump comes from the room on the left, followed by a clatter of chains and a high-pitched, animalistic screech that doesn’t seem muffled—at all—by the thick wooden door between us.

Luis picks up the pace, and I join him as we pass several more doors before the one in front of us starts to vibrate so violently that I’m afraid it could shake off its hinges at any second.

I ignore it, forcing myself to stay calm. One more turn, a mad dash, and we’ll be at the staircase. Home free.

Apparently, I’m not running fast enough for Luis, because he grabs my hand and pulls me along with him as a loud, furious shriek follows us around the corner.

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