Chapter 26
By six-thirty on December twenty-first, West Ridge looked almost beautiful.
Strings of white lights ran along the stadium fence. Paper snowflakes hung from the concession stand. Someone had wrapped the goalposts in silver garland, which Noah made Jake remove immediately.
“It’s plastic,” Jake said.
Noah sniffed it.
“I know.”
“Then why am I climbing a goalpost?”
“Because it offended me.”
Jake looked down from eight feet up.
“Valid.”
Families filled the bleachers.
The band played badly on purpose and then accidentally.
Seniors posed under a WINTER LIGHTS arch while parents took too many pictures.
Bonfire wood waited in a fenced section of the practice field.
Normal.
Painfully normal.
Jake wanted to memorize all of it.
Marcus appeared carrying four cups of hot chocolate.
“I have supplies.”
Jake climbed down.
“Is one of those secretly holy water?”
“No. Sofia has that.”
Jake stopped.
Marcus grinned.
“Kidding.”
Sofia passed behind them carrying a thermos.
“Mine is saltwater.”
Marcus looked offended.
“Why are you funnier than me?”
“Age.”
Claire and Ethan stood near the east gate identifying Circle members as they arrived.
Vera had given them names.
Nine confirmed.
Maybe more.
The problem was that none looked like hunters.
A teacher.
A grandfather.
A woman selling raffle tickets.
A man wearing an ugly Christmas sweater with a blinking reindeer nose.
That was what frightened Jake most.
Monsters rarely dressed correctly.
***
At seven-fifteen, seniors were called onto the field.
Jake stood between Marcus and a girl from calculus named Hannah Price.
Noah waited six people behind him.
Lisa screamed when Jake’s name was announced.
Not cheered.
Screamed.
Jake covered his face.
Marcus whispered, “Your mom is terrifying.”
“She likes me.”
“That makes it worse.”
Robert clapped beside her.
Elena and Sofia stood with Noah’s borrowed family section.
When NOAH BENNETT came over the speakers, Lisa screamed again.
Noah stopped walking.
He looked toward her.
Lisa waved both arms.
Noah laughed.
Jake felt something in his chest loosen.
Noah had arrived at West Ridge because somebody wanted to use him.
Tonight the school said his name because he belonged there.
Not to the Circle.
Not to a bloodline.
To himself.
Then the stadium lights flickered.
Once.
Jake’s smile disappeared.
Noah looked at him from across the line.
They both felt it.
The seventh anchor had awakened.
***
Mrs. Henson was already in the guidance office when Jake reached it.
She had kicked off her heels and was holding a fire extinguisher.
Jake stared.
“Why?”
“It was available.”
“Fair.”
Noah shut the door behind them.
Sofia opened the cabinet.
The silver nail glowed dull red.
Black thread unwound itself one loop at a time.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Jake touched the cabinet.
The entire school hit him.
A thousand memories at once.
A freshman crying in a bathroom stall.
A first kiss behind the gym.
A teacher learning her husband had died.
A basketball championship.
A broken nose.
A graduation cap thrown into rain.
Kids who had become adults.
Adults who had died.
People Jake had never met.
West Ridge remembered all of them.
Jake staggered.
Noah caught him.
“Stay here.”
Jake laughed weakly.
“Trying.”
The thread reached three loops.
Sofia poured saltwater across the cabinet floor.
Gold flashed.
The nail screamed.
Mrs. Henson dropped the extinguisher.
“I am going to retire.”
“Reasonable,” Jake said.