Page 49 of Confessions of the Dead

From outside the kitchen door: “I found the key.Who actually leaves a key under their doormat?That’s just stupid.”

Riley heard the key jiggle in the lock and scrambled to her feet. She was about to run when the door opened. The boy with the baseball bat was standing there—Mason Ridler. A seventh grader who lived two houses down from Evelyn and Robby. He played second base for the Hollows Bend Bobcats. Big for twelve. He’d probably grown a foot since the last time Riley had seen him.

Mason tapped his shoe with the tip of his bat, then raised it up and pointed it toward Riley as if it were an extension of his index finger. “World’s going to shit, and you’re hiding in your kitchen?”

Robby appeared behind him holding something in his hand.

A dead crow.

Its head hung all wrong, neck broken.

“You got about a dozen of these outside your house,” Robby said. “You know that? The only other place we found them was out on Main.”

He dropped the bird into his red backpack and closed the flap, as if that were the most normal thing in the world. When he hefted the bag back over his shoulder, it looked heavy. She didn’t want to know what else was in there.

Evelyn pushed by both boys and walked right into the kitchen as if it were her house, her eyes fixed angrily on Riley.“Her mom works at the diner right where all the other birds hit. Got more here. You ask me, that’s no coincidence.” She stepped closer and pointed at Riley. “You and your mom into some kind of witchcraft? That it? Some hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo old-world Mexican shit? That’s what I think.”

Riley tried to back up but had no place to go; the counter was right behind her. Tears bubbled up, but she choked them back. She wasn’t about to cry in front of these three, no way. “I don’t know what—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking ’bout,”Mason mocked. “Ev, she don’t know shit. Look at her; she’s a kid. We’re wasting our time.”

Evelyn took a step closer. “That true, Riley? You didn’t do it? Don’t know nothing?” She stretched her hand out behind her back toward her brother. “Give me that backpack. Maybe she just needs a closer look.”

Robby seemed to like that idea. This ugly grin bent his lip as he started to wiggle the pack off his shoulders.

Riley tried to ignore him and kept her eyes on Evelyn. “If phones are down, how did you text me?”

“Not all things are down. Landlines are still working as long as you don’t try to dial outside the Bend. I don’t know why texts are going. Some do, some don’t.” Evelyn gave her an accusing look. “You sure you and your mom didn’t start this? My dad says it’s got Mexican juju written all over it.”

That just made Riley angry. “We’re not Mexican. My abuela is from Honduras. My mom grew up in the States, and I was born in Exeter. I don’t even speak Spanish.”

“Whatever.” Evelyn waved a dismissive hand.

Riley eyed the block of kitchen knives on the far side of the counter. She could make it if—

“Oh, give me a break.” Evelyn rolled her eyes and took a step closer, blocked her.

The two boys closed on her from the right and left, boxing her in.

Riley tried to keep her voice from cracking. “I don’t know anything about birds, but I saw … something.”

Evelyn eyed her impatiently. “Oh yeah, what?”

Riley told her.

She knew how crazy it sounded, and talking about it aloud only made it worse, but she told them all about the scratching in the pipes and the thing she saw in the sink.

By the time she finished, both Mason and Robby had flashlights out and were peering down the drain. Evelyn hadn’t taken her eyes off her.

“Are you sure?” she said. “People are seeing all sorts of things. How do you know it was real?”

Riley had no proof. She should have taken a picture or something, but she hadn’t thought of that.

Mason crouched down, was looking in the cabinet under the sink. “We could take the pipes out. Maybe it’s caught in the trap.”

“Not if she ran the water that long,” Evelyn told him. “It’s long gone.”

“All chopped up, anyway,” Robby pointed out.

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