Running Scared

By Mac Bowers

In just one year, everything has changed for sixteen-year-old Morgan Casey. After she moves from a large California city to the tiny community of Mistle, Pennsylvania, Morgan knows she should be attempting to make new friends. But instead, all she wants to do is become invisible. Only Morgan knows why. She is hiding the kind of secret that could end not only her life, but also the lives of anyone involved.

As she reluctantly begins her first day at Mistle High School, she meets Charlie, a chatty and charismatic classmate who immediately pulls her into the comforting folds of a genuine friendship. But despite Morgans leeriness, Charlie somehow convinces her to slowly open up to him. After she reveals her secret to him, she immediately regrets it. Unfortunately, it is too late. Desperate to escape her past, Morgan hopes that Charlie is the one who can finally help her find a way to rid herself of the evil that has traveled over two thousand miles to silence her forever.

In this tale of suspense, two teenagers embroiled in a dangerous, international web of intrigue have just one goalto make it out alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 8, 2012
• ISBN: 9781462083817

Mac Bowers

Mac Bowers is a teenager who spends her days at school and her nights working on her next novel. She currently lives in Pennsylvania with her dad, younger brother, even younger sister, and two dogs. This is her first book.

Book preview

Prologue

A year ago, I couldn’t drive. I still lived in a large California city, and I was trying my best to be known, to stand out. Now, everything’s changed. I drive myself to and from school. I live in the middle of nowhere—otherwise known as Mistle, Pennsylvania. And now I’m trying to blend in.

In one year, everything changed. I had no idea so much could take place in such a short time. Why did this have to happen to me?

Chapter 1

That morning, on my first day in Mistle, Mom insisted on driving me to school. I tried firmly reminding her that I could now drive myself, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

You’d think that the middle of August in Pennsylvania would be bright and warm. But no, that day seemed to coincidently fit my mood. Rain pelted the windshield, and the wiper blades raced to clear Mom’s view. Staring out the window, I watched the pavement, glossy with water, speed under us. We were late. As usual.

Morgan? Mom’s velvety voice sounded like she didn’t notice the weather. Or my mood. I looked at her expectantly. She knew I was listening. Try to be happy today, okay? I know you didn’t want to move. But you’ll make friends. We pulled up to the front of the school, and she turned in her seat to face me. I know last year was … rough, for you, sweetie. But things are okay now. She reached for my hand, but I jerked away.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want her comfort. Because I did. I needed it, craved it even. But, looking down at my hands, I saw the evidence of what happened last year before we moved from California. My lifelines, the lines that marked the palms of my hands, were pale and puffy with scar tissue. I balled my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes shut. I hated remembering. I never wanted to remember again.

Then I opened my eyes and shot Mom the fakest smile she’ll ever see. I know, Mom. It’s all over now. It’s all good. I’m happy.

She smiled genuinely. If she noticed my fake one, she didn’t want to acknowledge it. She reached her hand out, like she wanted to touch me, but hesitantly pulled it back at the last second. Have a good day.

I nodded and got out of the cramped car. As she drove away, I ascended the steps to my new high school.

Right after I stepped in the door, I heard, Will Morgan Casey please report to the office? I briefly wondered if they had been waiting for me, but made my way to the room that looked like it would be the office anyway. Once inside, I was greeted by the secretary. She gave me a cheesy smile, and in a bubbly voice, said, Welcome to Mistle High School. My name is Mrs. Mason. Even though she told me, I sneaked a peek at the nameplate on her desk. Sure enough, it read, Mrs. Mason. The incident from last year had taught me to trust no one. Mrs. Mason handed me a stack of papers with a nametag on top that read, Morgan Casey.

Umm, I said hesitantly, not sure how to begin my lie. My last name is spelled wrong. I pushed the nametag toward her. It’s supposed to be spelled K-a-s-i-e. I held my breath. She was the first person I was trying this out on, and if it didn’t work, I was in deep trouble.

Mrs. Mason frowned. That’s funny. The paperwork your other school faxed us doesn’t spell it that way.

Well, they must have made a mistake, I insisted.

Mrs. Mason plastered a smile on her face that said, This kid is going to be a pain. But aloud, she said, Okay, we’ll fix that for you. In the meantime, you can take a tour of the school. Charlie should be here in a minute. Oh, here he is now.

As if on cue, a tall, blond-haired boy sauntered into the office. He wore a contagious smile, accompanied by smile lines. A sure sign he smiled a lot. He walked up to me, hand extended, still smiling.

Hi, I’m Charlie. You’re the new girl, right? He stood waiting for me to shake his hand, but I didn’t. I balled the ends of my hoodie sleeves in my hands and nodded.

Morgan, I mumbled.

Oh. Charlie’s smile faltered a bit but never left his face. Nice to meet you. I’m supposed to give you a tour, hang out with you a bit until you make some friends. Know what I mean?

Sure.

Charlie led me out of the office, and we walked down the hallway together. Or, even if you do make friends, I could stick around if you want me to.

Whatever.

The whole way around the school, Charlie never stopped talking. I wondered how the kid got enough oxygen to stay alive. We were almost at the other end of the school before Charlie realized I was only giving him one-word answers, and that was only if I had to say anything at all. Which I didn’t, for the most part.

You don’t talk much, do you? Charlie stopped walking to study me closely.

I stopped beside him, letting my hair fall over my eyes, stuffing my hands into my pockets, uneasy under his scrutiny. No.

Charlie beamed and started walking again. I followed. Well, he said, we’re just going to have to change that.

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. But he didn’t give any explanation, and I didn’t ask for any. We toured the school, and I mostly tuned Charlie out. All I could hear was the buzzing of his incessant voice, our footsteps thudding on the tiled floor, and my own thoughts. No matter what Charlie said, I was planning on keeping to myself. I couldn’t afford to have friends. I didn’t want any.

Chapter 2

As I roamed the halls on my first day of school, absently going from class to class (with Charlie as my guide), I tried to trick myself into thinking I was just a normal girl, living a normal life, not hiding a not so normal secret. When I walked into a new classroom with a new teacher, full of new faces, I tried to ignore the blatant staring and the not so hushed whispers all around me. But even as I refused to think about my unfamiliar surroundings or to look at my hands, I wasn’t fooling myself. All of this was new. I wasn’t the girl I was last year. And I couldn’t seem to forget that fact.

My classes flew by effortlessly. No one expects the new kid to answer questions, and homework was done during the next class as the hours ticked by. All in all, my first day at Mistle High School didn’t end in catastrophe.

After school, I stood outside for an hour, waiting for Mom to come pick me up. An hour turned into an hour and a half. Then two hours. I contemplated walking home, but looking up at the gray sky, I saw that it would be dark soon, and it looked like it wanted to rain again.

Who cares? I swore under my breath and started for the road. About a mile into the walk, a blue sedan pulled up beside me. My breath came in short gasps, and memories flashed in front of my eyes.

The sound of the engine. She’s the one. She knows. Voices. Then a cold hand gripping my arm, not letting go even as I screamed and struggled. Threats—I remembered I made threats. The whole time, I never stopped screaming. No one helped me. Then a blindfold tied over my eyes, a cloth covering my nose and mouth, commands to breathe, a sickly sweet smell. Then. Nothing. But. Blackness.

Back to the present, I quickened my pace, not daring to glance over my shoulder back at the car. Now, I was running. Sprinting like crazy. Never stopping. Forgetting to breathe. My shoelace caught a crack in the sidewalk. I went sprawling. In a tangle of arms and legs, I fell to the ground. It’s over, I thought while lying there. I’m done for. A shadow loomed over me, and I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the worst.

Morgan?

My eyes flew open at the familiar voice. Charlie, I croaked. A sigh of relief left my lips in a whoosh. Charlie extended his hand to help me up. I ignored it, sat up, and then climbed to my