Don't Look Behind You (Don't Look Series Book 1) by Emily Kazmierski (summer reads .txt) 📗

scarecrow makes me scream when I run right into it, even though it’s the third time. Its twisted burlap sack face and fake blood freak me out even though I know it’s all for show. Whoever put this creepy spectre together had too much fun with the corn syrup blood that looks all too real.

Twisting away, I spot Fiona, Marisa, Viv, Erin, Dariel, and Esau a few feet away.

I freeze, not sure how to react. Esau’s been acting coolly toward me since the other day at Noah’s. Since there is no reasonable explanation to give him for what happened. I take a slow step back, hoping to melt into the corn like a cartoon character in a hedge.

Esau meets my eyes for the barest of seconds before he looks away, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Even he is dwarfed by the towering stalks of green corn.

“Hey Megan!” Fiona says when she spots me, waving me over.

My feet war with my brain as they propel me to the edge of their circle.

“Girl, we thought about calling you but weren’t sure your aunt would let you come out with everything that’s going on.”

“She doesn’t know I’m here. Been here for hours, actually,” I say, biting my lip.

“Oh, rebel. I like your style. Want to join us?”

“We’re hopelessly lost,” Viv says with a grin.

“Somehow I think you don’t mind,” I say, letting the corner of my mouth curve upward despite how heavy the muscles in my face feel. “Where’s Noah?”

“Babysitting,” Fiona shrugs. “His mom got called in to work.”

I wish he was here.

“You any good at these things?” Dariel asks, slinging an arm over my shoulders. “Help us, Obi Wan. You’re our only hope.”

I’m about to shake my head when Esau speaks. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“The exit’s that way. I’m pretty sure.” I point.

“It’s the other way,” Esau murmurs, leading the group.

Fiona raises her eyebrows at me but doesn’t ask.

Everyone follows Esau through the twists and turns and out of the maze, a chorus of voices talking about how delicious a slice of pumpkin pie sounds piled high with fresh whipped cream.

I don’t fight it as Dariel steers Fiona and me with a hand on each of our shoulders. “Funnel cake,” he drones, imitating a mindless zombie on the hunt for its next sugar hit.

I almost laugh as my entire body begins to unwind. I’m unspeakably relieved to be leaving the maze. I regretted it one second after I posted that image of me standing at the maze’s entrance. How stupid was it to post on the Internet telling a murderous lunatic who’s obsessed with me exactly where I’ll be tonight? I must have a death wish.

Every second of being in that endless sea of giant corn was torture. Every footstep and every snap of a branch made my nerves spiral higher and tighter. Sure that the next figure who stepped around the corner would be him. A murderous gleam in his eyes and a bloody blade clutched in one hand.

My friends pile into the back of the line at the snack shack. I wrap my arms around myself to hold in the warmth that builds in my chest. Even though I’ve told these wonderful people lies, lies, and more lies over the past few months, they’ve somehow become my friends. I’ve teased Fiona for her snacking habit. Asked Viv for recommendations of places to clothes shop. Run so many lines with Marisa that she’s finally perfected them. And Esau, despite his hard-ass director’s ways, is a friend too. Underneath that grumpy exterior is a softish center. Okay, so he’ll never be an effusive person, but that’s fine.

The warmth starts to seep away when I realize that eventually all of them will know what I’ve done. Once they do, they may change their minds about wanting me around.

“Be right back,” I say, ducking out of line.

I can feel Esau’s eyes tracking me as I run past the snack shake toward the line of bright green porta-potties.

“Megan!”

I spin around to see Mr. Baugh jogging this way. “I’m so glad I found you. You have to come with me. There’s been an incident at the Lopez’s house, and your aunt wants you home right away.”

Dread slices through my gut like a black hole. The Mayday Killer got to them. Maybe he didn’t see my post and instead decided to add more bodies to his grizzly count. I clutch my face. More bodies lying at my feet.

My fault.

My fault.

My fault.

“Are… are they okay?” I manage to push the words out as Mr. Baugh herds me toward the parking lot.

He cuts a look toward me, something worrying in the lines of his face. He got to them. They’re not okay.

My knees start to buckle, but Mr. Baugh holds me up. “Come on, we’re almost there.” He coaxes me across the lot to his car and helps me climb inside.

“Thanks,” I mumble as he drives me through town.

He nods, eyes focused on the road.

My mind is flailing for purchase, but I can’t hold on to any single thought. My chest is so tight it feels like I’m being crushed by a car rather than riding inside of one. Town whooshes by in an unfocused blur. The packed diner a din of noise. The grocery store where Aunt Karen would be working if something bad hadn’t occurred. The sheriff’s station where only half of their patrol cars are parked, unattended, in the lot.

“Mr. Baugh? Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m not sure. Your aunt didn’t give me the details. Just asked me to go to the corn maze for you while she and Justin were tied up at the house.”

I glance at my teacher, whose knuckles are white on the steering wheel as if he’s clinging to this tiny act of normalcy even as it propels us closer to whatever devastation has been wrought on Noah and his family. Noah’s warm smile films my memories. Anza’s inquisitive eyes and hot-seat-like manner of questioning me