Condemned by Christopher Renna (best biographies to read txt) 📗

"So you guys really don't know nothing?"

"No," Trevor replied. "How would we? How would anyone? You know how Jared was before he got kicked outta school. I seriously doubt anyone knows the true tea."

"Yo, I'm just asking." Scott followed the three to Trevor's Camry. "The four of you guys used to be really close, like fam. I thought you'd know something."

"We don't," Adam said. "And dude, it's really effed up that you're talking crap about him. He's dead."

"I'm not talking crap. I was asking a question. But I guess it's a stupid rumor."

"Duh," Conner said. "I bet someone made up the story 'cause of the way he was acting."

Scott lingered as the three got into the car. "Yeah, you're probably right. Guess I'll see you guys at school tomorrow."

Trevor reversed the car then braked and powered down the window. "Hey, Scott!"

Their teammate turned. "Yeah?"

"Who else did Eric tell that story to?"

Scott looked at them in disbelief. "Everyone."

THREE

Trevor cruised out of the parking lot, but once he hit the street, he sped away like he was running late for an appointment. "This is fing-cray. What the hell, man? Are we going to keep playing stupid tomorrow when everyone is talking about demons?"

Conner glanced at Adam in the back seat, who simply shrugged in response. Looking at Trevor, he said, "We don't have control over the situation. People are going to talk whether we want them to or not."

They drove for a couple of blocks before Adam said, "I'm starting to wonder what the hell we're doing."

"What do you mean?" Conner asked.

"I mean, if we just heard these stories at school, I'd probably laugh and call people stupid. But now . . ."

"Now, what?"

"After Kayla told us that her aunt talked to the priest . . ."

Trevor stopped at a red light. "You believe it, then?"

"Maybe we should just convince everyone that it's a stupid rumor. And then people will stop talking about it, and everyone will forget all about it."

Driving again, Trevor said, "Look, the next couple days the kids at school are all going to be talking about possession and all that crap. But if we go to the funeral, they'll believe we got the truth from his parents."

"You think they'd believe us?"

"If people know we went to the funeral, then yeah, I think they might."

"Maybe," Conner said. When Trevor turned left onto Cottage Drive, he suspected the intended destination, but he asked, "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?"

Adam drew in a deep breath and leaned forward to situate himself closer between Conner and Trevor. "But . . . what . . .?"

"But what?" Trevor asked as he slowed the car and then parked in front of the Smiths' house.

They stared at the white two-story, upper-middle-class suburban home. There were no lights on inside. And there were no cars in the driveway.

"I guess they did move away," Conner said. "It looks empty."

"Maybe no one's home," Adam said.

Trevor pointed at the porch. "Those two flowerpots are gone. And you know Mrs. Smith would still have pumpkins and Indian corncobs on the porch until after Thanksgiving. Plus, look by the garage."

"Oh, yeah," Adam replied. "That tall metal pole with the wind chime isn't there."

"Yeah, they moved." Conner peered at the house. The setting sun was casting shadows on the exterior of the house. Now it appeared creepy rather than inviting. "The house looks—"

"Haunted," Trevor said.

"It definitely looks kinda scary," Adam said. "Um. You know, I saw a freaky thing happen in there."

Conner and Trevor both looked at Adam.

"It was kinda scary then. It's a lot scarier now."

"What are you talking about?" Conner asked.

"I didn't tell you guys 'cause it was weird and it freaked me out. And it was about the time that Jared stopped being our friend. So I just didn't say anything."

"You can tell us now," Trevor said.

Hesitant, Adam cast his gaze to the house, then to his best friends again. "Okay. Whatever you guys think, you think. I'm just gonna tell you anyway."

"Dude, we're brothers. You can tell us anything. No matter how crazy it sounds."

"You guys remember when Jared messed up his hand, and it was all bandaged for like a week?"

"Uh, huh," Conner mumbled. "What about it?"

"That was the weekend his dad told him to fix the fence in the backyard. Remember? We were all gonna help him, but you guys went to Trevor's family reunion or whatever."

"Oh, yeah," Trevor said. "You two said he cut his hand on a nail."

"He did. But that's not the whole story. I left out the freaky part."

Smoothing his hair, Adam blinked his hazel eyes as if working up the nerve to talk. By habit, he always seemed to ponder his words before saying something important. It was as though he feared losing his train of thought or possibly saying something stupid.

"So, anyway, I went over to his house. Uh, this house. We pulled apart the old fencing and started putting up the new pieces. We got most of it done. And he seemed fine. I mean, basically his usual self. Except he was getting frustrated when things didn't go right with the fence. Nothing major. But I totally thought he was overreacting.

"He was trying to yank an old piece of wood off, and he lost his balance and that's when the nail tore his hand up. Deep too, man. I told him that he might need stitches. But he said he was fine.

"We went inside to cool off while he cleaned up his hand. I was hanging in the kitchen, checking my socials and stuff. He was taking a long time, so I went to the bathroom to ask what the hell was taking so long. But when I got to the door . . ."

Of course, as always, Adam paused. Not for dramatic effect. Not for lack of words. He needed his buddies to encourage him.

"Go on," Conner said.

He glanced at the house and then practically wedged his torso between the two