Released: Secret Series #2

By Grace Simmons

Sally Jenkins is finally getting used to things. After the whole saving the world fiasco cooled down, life continued as usual. She and her friends went back to their regular lives and dealt with tests, quizzes, teachers, and other teenager-esque things, but she still couldnt shake the feeling their work wasnt quite finished yet.

This feeling is confirmed when she is chased down by a mysterious stranger who seems to know more about her and her friends than they do about themselves. With a great evil growing and a new danger introduced, they're hurled into a whole new mystery, and this time around, the stakes are raised. Just when they thought the adventure was over, a new one began.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503537187

Grace Simmons

Grace Simmons is the eldest of three sisters. She is a published author of a novel with the first in the series titled “Unexpected.” The first book was written at the age of eleven, released in 2012. Upon launching the book, she used the opportunity to tour a few schools, with the hopes of inspiring other children and teens to pursue their dreams and work hard. She organized a book club in her middle school in order to challenge students to read more and expand their vocabulary. She intends to use some of the book’s profits to give back to the community through charity. Her books are available for sale online at Barnes and Nobles, Amazon.com, and are also available for e-book.

Book preview

~Prologue

I t’s been almost a year since the mission, and after things went back to normal, I never really got used to it. I guess that’s due to the fact that my idea of normal has been severely damaged.

After we returned, our parents just labeled us crazy, and the whole thing blew over. My dad told the police that we ran away, but our supplies dwindled earlier than expected, forcing us to return. The police told us that we were wanted criminals in New Mexico. My attorney straightened that out, except for the small fact that if we ever showed up there again, we would be arrested on the spot. There goes our ninth grade trip to Albuquerque.

We shut down the club and went our separate ways, sensing it would be best to forget the whole thing, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t go on acting like nothing happened.

~Midnight

I walked through Blackwell’s Forest, attempting to return home. Night had already fallen, and my mom undoubtedly was worried. Blackwell’s Forest was notorious for mysterious happenings ever since a highly distinguished city councilman—Mr. Blackwell—was found butchered in 1845. It threw the entire populace of Hamilton into a monster hunt—pitchforks, torches, and all—allowing the notorious Blackwell Beast to claim six more victims that year. And thus the forestation bridging the city to the suburbs was named Blackwell’s Forest, and all were cautioned to evade it.

I knew that story inside out.

I also knew it was no more than a ghost tale.

The reason I chose that route in the first place was because I knew a shortcut, and maybe because it satisfied my perverse thirst for danger, something that would most likely end up getting me killed.

But not tonight.

The eyewitness accounts of the Blackwell Beast Hunt were shoddy at best, and taking this shortcut was my way of living on the edge without falling off. Either way, I wasn’t worried about some probably fictional man beast. It was already late enough, and now I had to deal with an impromptu midnight trek through the wilderness—the setting of just about every slasher film ever made. My mom was going to kill me when I got home, that is, if the hypothetical serial killer didn’t get to me first.

I looked up from the twigs lying scattered on the ground in front of me to glance up at the luminescent orb hanging in the sky. My gaze was torn away from the moon by the sound of muffled footsteps. They weren’t far behind. The volume of crunching leaves increased as the footsteps drew closer. They were getting louder with every passing second. I began to panic. My breathing hitched. I spun around frantically trying to pinpoint its origin, but the sound wasn’t coming from any one direction. It surrounded me, echoing from every cardinal position, and thrumming through the air. I ran, but the noise thundered behind me like drumbeats, at the same antagonizing pace.

I tripped over a loose tree root, and my knees buckled. What do you want? I yelled out, as the footsteps pounded closer. My question received no answer, not that I expected it to. I had a pretty good idea who was following me—Thomas’s new friend. From what I was told, he sounded a bit off. I’d never met the guy, but it wasn’t like I had a chance to. The upperclassmen don’t mix with freshman if they can help it. If we don’t bug them, they don’t bug us.

Ally said if it was any other way it would upset the natural order of things. I just thought it was plain stupid, and I still did. But I was learning my lesson. This was what happened when you upset the order—you get chased down by a psycho teenager. Man, was I starting to get tired of those.

I staggered to my feet and continued running, but the footsteps kept getting closer. What kind of lunatic am I dealing with this time, I wondered gasping for air. The sound stopped.

I know you’re here, a voice yelled out. I dashed behind a tree, with my heart pounding. Entertaining the idea of turning my head to get a good look at who I was dealing with, I realized: if I saw him, he could see me. The footsteps stopped echoing and died down to breaking twigs and the crunching of fallen crisp autumn leaves. I looked up at the sky. The light was receding. I had to get out of this situation now.

An idea came to mind, but it was risky. My powers weren’t even fully in my control; taking that into account, they were temperamental at best. I might’ve even ended up accidentally burning down the whole forest attempting to carry it out, and the guy following me could be either a friend or a foe. I made up my mind. I couldn’t leave it to chance.

I concentrated, and soon I could feel the warmth spreading through me. It didn’t take much to set me off. The heat grew more intense, and then there was a spark. I turned my head but only enough so I could see the fire grow and spread—circling him. He was trapped.

I stepped out from my hiding place while he tried to put out the blaze—a useless effort if I ever saw one. It wasn’t going out anytime soon. I tried to get a good look at him, but the smoke and waves of heat obscured my vision. I wasn’t worried about him dying either. If there was any chance of that happening, I would’ve never started the fire in the first place, but I still had the feeling he wasn’t as harmless as I first thought, considering the fact he wasn’t screaming in terror of the flames. To be honest, he seemed more irritated than terrified.

I attempted to move to the next tree to get a closer look—Crunch—I stepped on a twig. He turned his head in my direction, still trapped by the fire. I took that as my cue to leave. I started running again. After a few minutes of sprinting, I came across a creek. I looked around, double-checking I wasn’t followed.

Stupid creep, I muttered sliding down the semi-steep slope of land and sitting on a fallen branch. Now, I’m even farther from where I started, I said to myself. I looked up from the creek and sighed. I should’ve known something like this would happen, I mused, and just when I thought my life was going back to normal. I was just about to get up from my resting spot when something made me stop in my tracks. A cold hand clamped on my shoulder.

The touch made me shudder. I scrambled away from my seat and quickly backed up. Before you make me chase you through the woods again, at least give me a chance to explain, mystery boy said, stepping into view. Something about his voice seemed familiar, and his face too, especially his eyes, but I was sure I’d remember if we met before. I looked him over cautiously.

He had sleek black wavy hair that glinted in the moonlight, light olive skin concealing practically invisible light freckles, dimpled cheeks, and dark eyes that kept shifting from blue to brown with every blink but finally settled on the former. This was the first indication that he was something other than human. Other than that, he looked completely normal, wearing broken-in jeans and a faded black T-shirt. I estimated he was about fifteen or sixteen. He looked friendly enough. Besides, if he ended up trying to kidnap me, well … I could always just set his pants on fire. The thought brought a smirk to my face. Fine, I replied cautiously with my hand on the knife holstered to my belt. Explain.

First of all, how do you know Thomas? I said. There was something weird about him for sure, but I couldn’t determine what.

Uh, well—he stuck his hands into his pocket nervously—we’re taking a few of the same college classes, he answered sheepishly. I let my grip on the knife loosen. It fell back into its holster.

I’m in the presence of another genius, I said coldly. What an honor. I didn’t mean for it to sound sarcastic, but I could tell from his reaction it somehow came out that way. He tapped his fingers anxiously on his jeans.

I’m not really, he said, a genius, I mean. It’s not that hard to do what you’re told. Even though, people seem to think otherwise. I kept my silence.

Sorry to burden you with the information, he apologized, noting my lack of response. I promise I don’t normally tell my life story to people I just met in the woods.

Neither do I. A few moments passed, and he tore his gaze from the ground and looked at me.

Why were you following me? I asked breaking the silence. His eyes darted upward.

I think I should be asking that, the stranger said with a smile. The tension vanished.

What are you talking about? I asked.

"I was just taking my usual afternoon stroll, and then I heard your footsteps, so I looked behind me and saw some strange girl making her way into my territory."

"First of all, let’s get some things straight. (1) This isn’t your territory and (2) I’m not the strange one. You’re the creep who was following me, not the other way around," I snapped. He held his hands up defensively at my outburst.

I still stand by what I said. No one takes this route. No one even steps foot in Blackwell’s Forest. They’re all too scared. I think I knew what they were afraid of.

No one except for you, I said. He nodded.

I don’t scare easily was his reply. Anyway, I come here for the quiet. I know I won’t be bothered. In fact, I was right in the middle of my walk when I heard twigs snapping—

So … you decided to double back and mess with the intruder, I said completing his sentence. He nodded his head.

Wow, correct again.

That’s stupid. Why would you do that? I asked. How did you even make your footsteps sound the way they did? There was no way what I heard was the product of some secret speaker system, so I was looking forward to how he was going to explain it all.

Simple, he said, I didn’t. It was all in your head.

I wanted to slap that smug expression off his face.

You’re lying. He shook his head.

Sorry to disappoint, but all I did was follow you. The adrenaline took care of the rest. I couldn’t believe he expected me to buy that.

Are you calling me crazy? I asked sounding completely insane, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the best way to get the point across that I wasn’t.

No, he said, honestly, it could happen to anyone under the circumstances.

Seriously, that’s the story you’re sticking with? I asked. He nodded. Fine, whatever, I honestly don’t care anymore. But I take this route home every Wednesday, and I’ve never even heard or seen you.

That’s because I usually come out here on Friday, he explained.

Alright, I said. I could buy that, but I still had one more question. Why the sudden change?

I don’t know, he replied, eyebrows knit in confusion. Just felt like going for a walk. I felt … drawn.

You sound like a clichéd actor. I cut him off before I puked from the sheer cheesiness of that sentence. Are you going to start talking about destiny now, or is that my cue?

Hilarious, he commented, but really … it’s hard to explain, but I’m not going to put myself through the embarrassment of trying to.

Too late, I said, we all saw firsthand how well that turned out.

Yeah, he replied, unfortunately. I can say though that I don’t have any regrets. He shrugged. It’s not every day I meet a pretty girl in the woods.

Yeah, must’ve been fate, I mumbled absent-mindedly.

Who’s the cliché actor now?

Yeah, ha-ha very funny, I said, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything fell into place a little too perfectly. I knew some outside forces were at work, and I didn’t like it.

Can I ask you something? he asked. I looked up from the floor.

Go ahead.

Why did you set me on fire? I was not expecting that one, but in all fairness, it was a legitimate question.

Yeah, sorry about that, I said. I thought you were a chainsaw-wielding psycho.

Nice to know you thought I was a serial killer, he replied. You don’t still think that, do you?

No, I don’t, I answered. You’re just a normal guy who happens to like taking long midnight strolls in the woods, nothing creepy about that, I said sarcastically, but he didn’t seem to notice, either that or he didn’t care.

Okay, but how did you start it? Do you always carry matches and lighters around with you?

What? My face contorted in confusion. Do I look like an arsonist to you?

Then how’d you start it? He looked me over analytically. What are you?

I think I’ll be going now. I knew he was a complete stranger, but that didn’t mean I could drag him into this mess. I started to walk off in the other direction.

Wait. For some reason, I listened. You’re part of the prophecy, aren’t you, so is Thomas. I spun around.

And how do you know that? The look he gave me told me he said more than he’d meant to.

Let’s just say I have a part to play in this mess. He glanced up at the moon. I have to go. It’s way past midnight, and I—like you—have school tomorrow. He began to walk back into the thick underbrush that he emerged from.

Hold on, I said. He stopped and impatiently turned around. When can I see you again? He raised an eyebrow and smirked. Calm yourself, lover boy, not like that. You said you had something to do with the prophecy, and since this conversation isn’t quite over, I think you owe me a better explanation.

You know when I take my weekly walk, so you know where to find me. Meet me here at six o’ clock. Now, I really have to leave. He quickly dashed out of the clearing before more could be said, but something was off. He sounded anxious … scared.

I looked around, and all was silent, even the wind stopped rustling the leaves. I knew something bad was coming, and I didn’t intend to stay there and find out. I continued to weave my way through the forest and arrived home at the crisp early time of 3:30 AM. My mom was furious.

What were you doing there in the first place? I told you not to take that route.

Why? I don’t understand. You let me take down the goddess of chaos’s evil daughter and save the world, but I can’t take a walk in the woods. Well, that makes perfect sense, I continued in my head.

There are stories … my mom trailed off.

What stories? I persisted. None of this was making any sense. She stared at me in frustration.

You really are stubborn, she said sternly. A moment later, her face softened. Just like me. I smiled. They’re not full-fledged stories, more like rumors. Some people who enter Blackwell disappear without a trace. I just don’t want you to be one of them.

"Mom, I walk through there every Wednesday and I always come back. You know I can take care of myself." I sat down on a stool, in front of our marble kitchen counter.

Just promise me you won’t go in the forest again.

But, I—

Sally, she said in a warning tone. I relented.

I promise, I replied, lying through my teeth. I was going back, and I was going to get the answers that everyone was too afraid to tell me. My mom returned to her room, closed the door, and locked it.

I quickly pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and plugged in Thomas’s number. The dial tone rang two times before someone answered. Hello, he yawned.

Hey, Thomas, sorry to wake you, but I need to ask you something. He began to reply but was cut off.

~Thomas~

It’s been almost been a year since the Delilah incident, and things are finally normal. I even made a new friend. The final bell rang signaling school was over, and my usual routine began. I swapped out my school supplies with my psych textbook, waited for the masses to empty out, and then strode out of the exit. I went through an alleyway and cut through someone’s backyard via an open fence they never bothered to lock; when I emerged from the shrubbery, I dusted off a few loose twigs from my shirt and pants. I examined myself one more time to make sure they were all gone before proceeding. A shadow darted into the upcoming passage I was about to take, and I followed suit.

Technically it’s not stalking, I told myself as I walked into the alleyway. I was only about two blocks from campus, and it seemed like the shadow and I were heading to the same place. I still wasn’t sure who it was, but it wasn’t a girl, so that narrowed it down to about … half the population. I arrived at the campus gate just in time to see them walk into the Forman building—where my psych class happened to be held.

I showed the guard my ID. He gave me a curious look but let me enter. I walked into the building just to see the person round a corner. Eventually, I got closer and realized the shadow was just a fifteen-year-old boy that I somewhat recognized. I caught up with him just as he was about to enter a classroom—my classroom.

I know you from somewhere, don’t I? I asked. He turned around and smirked.

I highly doubt that. I only moved here last week.

Aren’t you in my science class? He shifted his gaze from the door to me.

Yeah … You’re Thomas, right? I was wondering what you were doing in a senior class.

I could say the same for you. There was definitely something strange about him, but I had a hard time figuring out what it was.

Well, it’s nice to know I’m not the only kid who got thrown in with them.

Yeah, they wouldn’t let me skip the grades fully, so they just tossed me in a few senior classes to keep me busy. The guidance counselor said I’d be isolated from my peers when I made the request, but I think she was just afraid I’d turn into a human punching bag. It’s a little too late for that, I thought bitterly remembering my one-sided conversation with Ms. Bartletta that day.

Yeah well, I guess you could say the same for me, he replied, opening the oak doors. I walked into the auditorium, books in hand, and sat in my seat near the back exit.

Why’d you choose this class? I asked. I had about twenty minutes to kill. I always managed to arrive early, so I’d usually just read while the others slowly trickled in, giving me confused glances that questioned why I was still here. A couple of them would say things like Did you get lost on your way to daycare or the ever creative Sorry, kid, the elementary school’s that way. After I was enrolled in the class for a month, they just strode in casually and ignored me.

I liked it better that way.

I don’t know, he answered. I guess I like knowing why people do the things they do. What’s your reason?

So that I could find out why my parents were killed is what I wanted to say, but instead I settled for the generic People are interesting. He looked at me strangely. What? I questioned. Were you expecting a different answer?

No. It’s just that … The sentence was never completed.

So, uh, where’d you move from? I asked casually trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. The rest of the class was taking longer than usual to show up. Usually, they were all here by now.

I used to travel a lot, so I didn’t stay anywhere too long, but I think this time around I might be here for a while. A look of confusion crossed my face. I wondered if he was dodging the questions on purpose or if he just liked to ramble.

Uh … okay, I replied, deciding not to look into it. What part of the city did you move to?

The Heights, he answered. I moved into that house, you know, the abandoned one that borders Blackwell’s Forest.

Yeah, it must be cool having all that space to yourself, I said. I remembered hearing something about the owners putting the house on sale after some property damage, well at least that’s what it said in the newspaper; with this town, I could never be sure.

I guess, he answered, but he didn’t sound too certain. I opened my mouth to ask another question when a light knock was heard on the door.

Oh, sorry, but didn’t you get an e-mail. This class was canceled, a small brown-haired secretary informed, holding up a notice.

No, I replied as we walked down to meet the informant. I wasn’t aware there was an e-mail. We stepped out into the hallway. Her eyes widened when she realized how young we were. Here we go, I thought with a sigh as she began to speak.

Are you lost, she asked, because I can give you directions to—

No, thank you, I interrupted curtly and then proceeded to explain, I’ve actually been a student here for a few months. She looked at me skeptically. I rolled my eyes in aggravation. I loathed it when people automatically labeled me as some stupid, confused kid. I may have been a lot of things, but I wasn’t stupid.

Look, we have IDs, Alex said bringing his out. I searched for the card in my back pocket and put it on display.

Oh … I’m sorry, she said, once her eyes fell on the laminated square. I just nodded and walked past her. It was the third time that month that happened to me. I was well-accustomed to the routine.

Did you get an e-mail? he asked. I shook my head no.

You?

Nope. I sighed and pushed open the glass doors that led outside. It was probably one of the older students, I thought. They would do anything to get a laugh.

Does this happen a lot?

What?

People assuming you’re just another clueless kid, he clarified. I paused. There was definitely something strange about this guy.

I guess, so what school did you transfer from? I asked beginning to walk again.

Um … I was actually homeschooled. That must explain it, I thought and then shook my head imperceptibly. Not all homeschooled kids had social problems. Besides, he might’ve just been really perceptive.

Oh, that must be interesting, I said for lack of a better word. I entered an alleyway. I began to tire of all the small talk, but it sure beat walking in an awkward silence for the rest of the way home.

By the way, my name’s Alex, he said.

Yeah, I know. A few days ago, our biology teacher made a fuss about the class getting a new student who was apparently supposed to be some type of genius. To be honest, I was just glad I didn’t have to deal with the attention anymore.

A thought occurred to me. Something about that name sounded familiar. I paused to think.

I know you.

Yeah, you’re in my bio class, remember. We’re lab partners.

No. I shook my head as the memories flooded back. Last time I saw him, he looked completely different. He had bright blonde hair instead of black, blue eyes instead of brown, and pale, freckled skin instead of olive. Alex.

Yeah, he answered.

I know who you are.

Yeah, I’m Alex. I thought we’ve already established this. I didn’t know why he was playing dumb, but I wasn’t going to drop the subject. Memories came rushing back. I remembered the train,