A Kiss Before Dying Read online

  Either they weren't as upset as he was or they were better at hiding it, Todd figured. He went over to Bruce and crouched down beside him.

  "How're you doing, man?" Bruce whispered.

  Todd shrugged, scooting over to rest his back against the wall next to Bruce. "I've been better," Todd said. He pulled his knees up and rubbed his ankle. He'd suffered an ankle injury during a basketball game and had only been out of the cast a few weeks. Once again, it struck him how ill-suited he was for all this gang warfare.

  "Yeah, I've been better, too," Bruce said, his gaze locked on the guys across the cell.

  Todd recognized one of them as Greg McMullen, the Pumas' quarterback. Greg was the main instigator of the trouble, in Todd's opinion. It wasn't enough that he'd kneed Ken Matthews in the stomach during the Gladiators-Pumas football game, knocking the wind out of him; after the game, Greg and his friends had come after Ken again in the parking lot, taunting him with the name "little windbag." Then Greg had attacked him again, punching Ken in the stomach without provocation. Since then, one thing had led to another, and now here they were.

  Todd wanted to believe that Sweet Valley High was right and Palisades was wrong, but what difference did it make? They'd all ended up in the same place, locked up in the same jail cell. He was ready to put an end to the fighting. Maybe if he and Bruce could talk things out with Greg and the other guy, they could work out a compromise.

  Bruce had shut his eyes and he was snoring softly. Todd nudged him with an elbow to the ribs. "Wake up, Patman," he whispered urgently.

  Bruce opened one eye and turned to him. "This better be good. I was having an incredible dream."

  "I've been thinking," Todd began. "Maybe it's time we stop—"

  "So where's your dorky friend, guys?" Greg McMullen taunted, interrupting Todd's sentence. "Where's the little windbag, Ken Matthews? Guess he was too wimpy to show up tonight, huh?"

  "Maybe he has a tummy ache," the other one said in a whiny voice. "He gets them often, doesn't he?"

  "Can you believe he's the captain of the team?" Greg asked. "No wonder the Gladiators are such losers."

  "Yeah!" his friend said. "Good old windbag. The cheerleaders yell, 'Go team go,' and this is Ken Matthews—" He grabbed his stomach and began making loud wheezing noises, poking fun at the way Ken had struggled for air after Greg's attack during the game. The two PH guys laughed hysterically and slapped hands, congratulating themselves.

  Todd glared at them, the blood in his veins boiling hot. Who do they think they are, talking about Ken that way? They were nothing but slugs who made the world a scummy place. Todd's hope for peace was replaced with a blinding rage. His control snapped. He leaped toward the PH guys, barely conscious of his movements. The wooden bench toppled over with a crash. Todd pinned Greg's arms to the floor with his legs and smashed his fist into the jerk's face again and again, aware of nothing but the thudding sound of flesh hitting flesh and the scraping sensation against his knuckles.

  Suddenly two strong arms gripped Todd from behind and dragged him off of Greg. Todd struggled to get free, shoving and pushing his body against his captor.

  "Take it easy, smart boy," a familiar voice growled in his ear. The next thing he heard was the click of handcuffs. A strong hand grabbed his shoulder and shoved him toward the door of the cell, "We'll teach you how to play rough if that's what you want, kid." Todd turned and looked into the hard, gloating eyes of the white-haired policeman.

  "I told you not to make me mad," the man said, a cruel grin splitting his face.

  Once again, Todd was painfully aware of everything around him. His hands were locked behind his back and a police officer was dragging him away by the collar. I'm not a criminal! his mind screamed. I'm a nice kid, really. I don't belong in jail.

  The policeman opened the door of a small cell and pushed Todd inside, hard enough to knock him to the floor. "Let me know if you start itching for another fight, smart boy," he said as he leaned over Todd and removed the handcuffs. Then he locked the cell and walked away, the sound of his jeering laughter ringing through the narrow corridor.

  Chapter 2

  "This isn't funny, Winston. We have to get you to the hospital," Maria said, pronouncing the words clearly as if she were talking to a total idiot.

  Winston could see how worried she was and he really was trying to be serious. Maria Santelli was the best girlfriend a guy could have. Winston considered himself lucky that she cared for him so much.

  But he felt so confused. Where exactly were they? Bright flashing lights seemed to be swirling around his head, sirens screaming into his ears. Something had happened, he remembered. Something to do with Palisades High. He tried to think, but that only made him dizzy. Maybe his skull had been invaded by alien spiders and they were crawling around up there, destroying his thinking cells. That would explain why his brain felt as if it were wrapped in fuzzy cobwebs.

  Maria pulled his arm up over her shoulders and wrapped her arm around his waist. "Come on, we have to get out of here. Can you walk, Winston?"

  "Juuuur I can," he uttered in a strange, duck-quack voice. Where did that come from? he wondered. An invasion of alien ducks in my throat, maybe? He sure had a terrible taste in his mouth, come to think of it.

  Enid Rollins stood next to Maria, staring at him with a look of horror. He tried to imagine what she'd think if she knew that ducks and spiders were taking him over, moving right in as if his body were a condominium complex. The idea struck him as hilariously funny and he started laughing—which sounded as if he had a kazoo stuck in his throat, making him laugh even harder.

  "There he goes again," Maria said, shaking her head. "There was an ambulance here a minute ago. He refused to go near it. Can you believe that?" She turned to Winston, shaking her head. "You're so stubborn, sometimes."

  He shrugged and tried to think of something to say in his defense. Nope, the cobwebs are too thick. My brain cells are doomed!

  "I don't think he knows what's going on," Maria said.

  "Do you know where you are, Winston?" Enid shouted in his face.

  Winston nodded, and tried not to laugh again.

  "Can you remember what happened?" Maria asked.

  He tried. Looking around, he saw they were standing outside a brick building on a dark gravel road. There was a police car parked a few yards away from them, the source of the swirling lights. The night was cool, but he remembered he'd been sweating profusely earlier. . . .

  Suddenly it all came back to him. He was supposed to meet Bruce, Todd, Ken, and the rest of the Sweet Valley High guys here in the building, which was an abandoned warehouse. But instead of finding his friends, Winston had walked into a trap. Some guys from Palisades High had tied him up and beat on him for what seemed like hours. The worst part of it was the mental torture—they kept telling him the beatings would never stop, that no one would ever find him; he'd be their prisoner forever and they'd keep him in a cage as a pet punching bag.

  Winston also remembered being scared out of his mind. He'd been tempted to cry like a baby and beg for mercy, but he didn't. He'd taken it like a man. With a smug feeling of pride, he mentally congratulated himself for acting very brave.

  He might have a concussion," Enid was saying,

  Maria squeezed his hand. "Don't you remember anything at all?"

  "I zidn't cry." His lips were thick and rubbery, making it hard to speak. Another peal of quacking laughter bubbled out of his mouth.

  Elizabeth came up to them. "Are you okay, Winston?" she asked, studying his face with a look of intense interest.

  Before he could answer, Maria spoke for him. "No, he's not. We have to get him to the hospital. He needs stitches and I think his nose is broken."

  "Why didn't he go to the hospital in the ambulance?" Elizabeth asked.

  Maria glared accusingly at him. "Because he's too stubborn; it seems to be a common flaw among the guys lately."

  "Um shtanding right here," Winston protested. "I can speak for myself." The girls kept talking to each other, ignoring him.

  "Maria, why don't you drive Winston to the hospital, and Enid and I will follow you."

  "Bug," Winston muttered, trying to plead with them not to leave his dear old Volkswagen Beetle behind. He tried to say more, but his lips refused to shape the words.

  "What about Winston's car?" Maria asked. Winston tried to smile, but it hurt too much.

  "I could drive it," Elizabeth offered.

  "It's not running very well, but I know Winston loves that old tuna fish can," Maria said.

  How dare you call my beautiful car a tuna fish can! Winston thought hotly.

  "I'll drive right behind her", Enid said. "If Winston's car dies along the road, Elizabeth can get a ride with me."

  "Excuuze me," Winston said, raising his hand. To his surprise, he couldn't hold it steady. He was trembling.

  Elizabeth glanced at him, then turned back to Maria and Enid. "I think you're right. It does sound as if he broke his nose. And the side of his face looks awfully swollen."

  Winston began waving his arms, trying to flag their attention. But he only managed to make himself feel dizzy. The ground began to sway and he nearly lost his balance.

  Maria tightened her hold around his waist. "We'd better hurry," she said. "I think he's going to pass out any minute."

  "No, Um not!" he protested.

  Enid pointed to the orange Volkswagen Beetle parked by the bushes. "There's Winston's car."

  "Where are his keys?" Elizabeth asked.

  Maria reached around him and rummaged through the pockets of his denim jacket. "Found them," she said triumphantly, holding his key ring in the air and jiggling it like a rattle.

  "Do you want us to ask Lila to call the hospital from her car phone to let them know you're bringing him in?" Elizabeth asked.

  Don't he ridiculous! Winston thought.

  "That's a great idea," Maria said.

  Winston watched their exchange, shaking his head. It was pointless for him to argue, he realized. There were too many of them. Once again, for the second time that evening, he was completely outnumbered. Ganging up on Winston Egbert—what is it, the new national sport? he wondered.

  But he gave up and didn't resist as they led him to Maria's gray Camry. He may have been brave enough to withstand the PH thugs, but he knew his limits. He didn't stand a chance against these girls.

  Winston wasn't the only SVH guy whose injuries required medical attention. When Elizabeth and Enid arrived at the emergency room of Sweet Valley's Joshua Fowler Memorial Hospital, a boisterous cheer rose from the crowd gathered in the waiting area. Most of the chairs along the yellow-tiled wall were occupied by guys in various degrees of distress waiting to be called to the treatment center.

  Tim Nelson, the SVH Gladiators' defense linebacker, was holding an ice pack to his forehead. "Hey, Elizabeth, you should've seen Todd tonight," he said. "The guy was on the rampage like you wouldn't believe!"

  "Yeah," added Ricky Ordway. "Your boyfriend turned into a warrior—a real-life Gladiator. He did us proud."

  Elizabeth swallowed a feeling of disgust and walked over to the nurse's station.

  "Winston Egbert is in exam room eight," the nurse on duty said. "You can't go back there just yet; only one visitor is allowed per patient and a young lady is with him right now."

  "That would be Maria Santelli, his girlfriend," Elizabeth said. "Could you let her know we're here?"

  "Hey, Elizabeth!" Bryce Fisherman yelled. "Any word on Todd and Bruce yet?" Bryce was a senior at SVH, with a voice loud enough to carry throughout the emergency room.

  "They'd better not keep them in jail overnight," Tim said.

  "Yeah!" Ricky boasted, putting up his fists. He had a nasty gash in his elbow that looked as if it needed stitches. "We'll break Todd and Bruce out of jail, just like we rescued Winston!"

  The nurse turned and glared over at the guys. "Keep your voices down, please!" She turned back to Elizabeth and Enid with a look of exasperation. "It's been quite a night."

  Enid rolled her eyes upward. "Yeah, tell us about it." She and Elizabeth walked over to the waiting area and sat as far away from the male cheering section as possible.

  A few minutes later, Maria came out of the treatment area and joined them. Her face showed marked signs of the anguish she must have been feeling. Her complexion was unusually pale and her brown eyes were rimmed with red, as if she'd been crying.

  An enthusiastic chorus of whistles erupted from the guys, hailing her arrival.

  "Let's hear it for Winston, our main man!"

  "He-ro, he-ro, he-ro . . ."

  Maria sat next to Enid, turning her back on the guys. "They're all crazy," she said softly. "They're acting like this is just a big pep rally."

  "How's Winston?" Elizabeth asked.

  Maria sniffed. "He's getting x-rays right now. The PH guys really messed him up, but it'll be awhile before we know exactly how bad his injuries are." Her eyes filled with tears. "Why would anyone do this to him? Winston would never hurt anybody."

  Enid put a comforting arm around Maria's shoulders. "Because just like you said, they're all crazy."

  Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "Would you like to go get some coffee?" she asked. "I'm afraid I'll go crazy if I have to keep listening to these barbarians bragging about their great battlefield prowess."

  "You two go ahead," Maria said. "I want to stay here and wait for Winston's parents. They should be here any minute."

  "Are you sure you'll be okay?" Elizabeth asked.

  Maria nodded. "Bring me back some tea . . . and a fat candy bar." She gave them a watery smile. "I really need some chocolate."

  "Coming right up," Enid said, jumping to her feet.

  The hospital coffee shop, which was located on the other side of the building, was quite busy. Elizabeth and Enid stood in line, waiting for their turn. Two nurses in front of them were arguing the pros and cons of castile-soap enemas for surgical patients. Any other time, Elizabeth and Enid would have been on the brink of hysterical laughter, but tonight nothing could have lightened their mood.

  Elizabeth couldn't stop thinking of the disastrous inter-school rivalry which was spinning faster and faster out of control. She and Enid had become friends with two girls from Palisades High that they'd met, ironically, at the very football game which had started the whole feud. Marla Daniels and Caitlin Alexander were on the staff of the Palisades Pentagon, the PH school newspaper. Since Elizabeth was involved with The Oracle, the SVH newspaper, the girls found they had much in common.

  In an attempt to create something newsworthy to report, Elizabeth and her friends had come up with the idea of a SVH-PH masquerade dance. They'd held it in an old warehouse located between Sweet Valley and Palisades, which they figured would be a neutral site.

  Unfortunately the rivalry between the SVH and PH guys had already begun to burn out of control. Elizabeth closed her eyes and groaned to herself as she remembered that horrible night. Instead of the fun-filled evening of music and dancing they had planned, the girls had found themselves hosting the first all-out battle of the SVH-PH War. Since then, the girls had made several attempts to bridge the animosity between their schools, but each one of their ideas ended in miserable failure.

  They'd tried visiting each other's school as goodwill ambassadors, but all they got for their trouble were insults and threats. They'd published favorable articles about the other school, but their efforts had only served to inflame the growing hostility. The principals of both school had organized a joint task force to try to bring about peace, but again, the results were dismal. The war was burning hotter than ever.

  Enid turned to Elizabeth. "It could take hours before we hear anything on Winston's condition. If you want to leave, you can borrow my car. I can get a ride home with Maria or Winston's parents."

  Elizabeth frowned. "What makes you think I want to leave?"

  "Aren't you anxious to go to the police station and check on Todd?" Enid asked.

  Elizabeth shook her head sadly. "No, I'm not. So far everything I've done to try to help the guys has backfired. I'm through with being an unwilling accomplice to this rivalry."

  Enid looked at her with a bemused expression and said nothing.

  "You'd really run off to Mexico with me?" Christian whispered close to Jessica's ear. The two of them were snuggled together in the back of Christian's van, her head resting comfortably on his firm, muscular shoulder.

  Jessica sighed contentedly. "Anywhere," she said. "I'd go anywhere in the world with you."

  He kissed her neck, then lifted his head and looked into her eyes. "You should go home," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I've kept you out much too late and—"

  Jessica raised herself up on her elbow and interrupted him with a firm kiss, stopping him from saying anything more on the subject. He smiled against her lips and a deep, sexy chuckle escaped his mouth. It was game they'd been playing for hours; whenever one would mention anything about leaving, the other would kiss the words away.

  When the kiss ended, Christian tucked her head back into the crook of his arm and gently stroked away a few errant strands of silky blond hair from her face. "What am I going to do with you, Jessica Wakefield?"

  She snuggled closer and kissed the side of his face. "I'd say you're doing just great right now."

  "I sure didn't expect things to turn out like this tonight," he said, absently running his fingers up and down her arm. "So much for our first real date."

  "I know," Jessica said. Even the thrilling sensation of lying in Christian's arms couldn't wipe out the memory of this awful evening. "I wonder what was going on at the old warehouse. The fighting looked pretty bad."

  "I think the SVH-PH violence has finally reached its peak."

  Jessica flipped over onto her back. "There were so many police cars."