kid anymore. Between him and the cold air radiating against the back of his neck, Dan was starting to get a distinctly creepy vibe about their weekend residence.
And this is supposed to be one of the good dorms.
“I hope you all plan on coming to the carnival,” Cal said, flashing them a trust-fund-worthy smile. “We’re bringing it back this year and you lucky folks are just in time to see it. Usually Student Affairs just organizes some half-assed trick-or-treating thing for the weekend.”
“The volunteers here and the college faculty really went all out,” Micah assured the room. “Food, entertainment, the whole nine yards. The Dance Department volunteered a few kids to do acrobatics, and the fencing club is doing a demonstration. We hope all of you find the time to make it down with your hosts—we haven’t had anything like this on campus in, well, definitely not since I’ve gone here, so who knows.”
“Any questions?” Cal didn’t seem much interested in Micah’s clarifications. Jordan, apparently bored already, had taken out a slip of paper with a sudoku puzzle on it and was solving it against his leg.
“Good. Now, if you could all find your hosts again we can help you choose which classes you’d like to sit in on and make sure you find your luggage and room.” Cal beckoned for them to come and reunite with their hosts. Dan stood up and stretched, watching as Abby shuffled forward to reconnect with Lara.
Over the fireplace to his left hung a giant black-and-white photograph of a man, ironically, standing in the exact spot where the picture now lived. The subject bore a vague resemblance to Cal, he thought, same privileged smile and casually coiffed hair.
“Daniel Crawford?”
Dan started, feeling a clammy breath rush right against the side of his neck. Turning, Dan found the staring black-haired volunteer standing so close to his shoulder they were practically touching. His breath smelled of an old tuna sandwich.
“Can … Can I help you?” Dan stammered, finding that even when he took a step back, the boy followed. His eyes, Dan noted, didn’t just look glassy but hollow.
“Daniel Crawford.” It wasn’t a question now, but a statement.
“Uh, yes, that’s me. What’s up?”
“Daniel Crawford … Daniel Crawford …” The host repeated his name over and over again, each time louder, a note of hysteria and then panic pitching his voice higher and higher. “Daniel Crawford. DANIEL CRAWFORD.”
Dan reeled back, knocking into the couch behind him and slamming down into it so hard his jaw rattled.
“Jeez, what the—”
The rest of the room heard the commotion and suddenly they had an audience. Dan scrambled back deeper into the couch, convinced the weird kid was going to start crawling all over him.
“Daniel Crawford … Daniel Crawford … You’re not finished. Daniel Crawford, you’re not finished, not yet …”
“Stop it! STOP SAYING THAT!” Dan hoped his own screaming would drown out the boy’s voice. For a second, it did. Then the boy went quiet, smiled a strange, sad smile at Dan, and said softly, “You’re not finished, Daniel Crawford. Time is running out, Daniel, and you’re not finished. Get out, get out of here now, go, go …” He clutched his head, grimacing.
Above the noise he heard Cal’s voice across the room, his snapping fingers … “Hey!” Cal was shouting. “Hey! Doug! Snap out of it! Wake up!”
Then as if in slow motion, Dan watched the boy scramble onto the next couch over, shoulder open the window, punch out the screen, and throw himself toward the cold open space.
Dan froze. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he needed to help, but none of his limbs responded when he tried to move.
Someone screamed, maybe Abby, and then Dan came to. The black-haired boy hadn’t quite managed to fit himself through the window with his first try, and one arm and half a sneaker were still visible hooked around the ledge. With a grunt, Dan shot forward, leaping onto the couches and grabbing what could still be seen of the host. Dan heaved backward with all his weight. The two of them crashed to the floor, and in the time it took Dan to draw his next breath, Cal and Lara were there to help wrestle the boy to the ground.
A hand closed around Dan’s right biceps and squeezed. He started away violently.
“It’s me! It’s just me!” Abby was there at his side, peering down into his face with concern. “What happened? Why was he screaming at you?”
“Back up!” Cal thundered, standing and pushing curious onlookers out of the way. “Give him some air! Give us some room … Jesus, Doug.”
Micah arrived and helped Lara pull the boy to his feet. The boy didn’t fight them, going limp as a rag doll in their hands. They dragged him toward the door, Cal herding prospies out of the way as they went. The other hosts tried as best they could to keep order, but as soon as the door shut, the room exploded with noise.
“What the hell?” Jordan trotted up to them, pale and staring. “Did he just try to hurl himself out a window?”
“I—I think so.” Shaking, Dan blinked and passed a hand over his face, feeling a cold sweat along his forehead and nose. “He just kept saying my name. I don’t get it. I’ve never seen him before, I don’t know how he knew who I was …”
“Are you all right?” Abby knelt, touching his knee gently. “Guys, this is bad. We’ve been here all of ten minutes and—”
“It’s not like Dan did anything,” Jordan interrupted. “But you’re right. This was probably a mistake, coming back here. Dan, what do you think? Should we just pack it in now? I can call my folks. It would take some explaining but they’d probably let you stay if Abby came, too.”
“No.” Even now, even when he kind of wanted to go, Dan knew it wasn’t an option. He didn’t really believe it himself, but he said, “Maybe it was a prank?”
“A prank?” Abby stood up suddenly, throwing her hands in the air. “Dan, get real.”
“What? I don’t know what to tell you, Abby. Let’s just … Let’s just all stay calm. We only just got here. Our hosts helped take him away, right? I’ll ask Micah what happened later and we can get some answers.” Dan stared up into her eyes, silently pleading. He couldn’t do this alone, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. He wanted them here.
“People are staring,” Dan told them, inhaling deeply. “We have to decide now—stay or go.”
Abby chewed her lower lip furiously, twining a piece of dark hair around one finger. She glanced at Jordan, who was still worrying the puzzle paper in his hand.
“I at least want to see Lucy,” Abby said. “I want to do that much. I’m not sure when I’ll be back here from New York again.”
“And
