Secret Histories yrj-1 Read online

“Okay, okay. But what about the firemen who put out the fire? They must have seen it.”

  “No firemen for this one.”

  Eddie snorted. “You psychic now?”

  “Check it out.” She gestured around them. “What’s missing?”

  Eddie and Jack did ful turns.

  “Green trees?” Jack said.

  Weezy shook her head. “Litter. There’s no litter. Firefighters always leave coffee cups, candy wrappers, Coke cans, Gatorade bottles, al sorts of stuff.

  But not here. Ergo …”

  Jack knew from his father that ergowas Latin for “therefore,” but a glance at Eddie showed he hadn’t a clue.

  He checked the ground again. Not even a gum wrapper. Weezy didn’t miss a trick.

  As they fol owed her into the burned-out area, Jack noticed how the pine trunks had been charred coal black. The remaining needles high up were a

  dead brown, and the usual spindly little branches sticking out here and there lower down the trunks had been burned off. But the trees weren’t dead. Every

  single trunk was sprouting new little branchlets, pushing them through the scorched crust of the bark and sporting baby needles of bright green. Everyone

  had heard of the Sears DieHard battery. These were nature’s die-hard trees.

  As she’d done al day, Weezy led the way, winding through the blackened trunks until she came to a break in the trees.

  “Here’s where the mound begins.”

  “Mound?” Eddie said. “Where?”

  But Jack saw what she meant. They stood at the tip of where two linear mounds, each a couple of feet high and maybe a yard wide, converged to a

  point. Both ran off at angles between the blackened trees.

  “Like some giant gopher,” Eddie said.

  Weezy shook her head. “Except look how smooth they are. And how straight. Nobody knows it’s here, and I never would have noticed it if the fire hadn’t

  cleared al the undergrowth. I haven’t explored the whole thing, so I—”

  “You were out here alone?” Jack said.

  She nodded. “You know me. I like to explore. Who else is going to come along? You?”

  His two part-time jobs didn’t leave Jack much time to explore the Barrens, especial y not to the extent Weezy did. She’d spend hours digging for

  arrowheads or other artifacts. The only reason he was out here today was because Mr. Rosen closed his store on Mondays.

  He smiled and shrugged. “Beautiful teenage girl alone in the woods … might meet a Big Bad Wolf.”

  She grinned and punched him on the shoulder. “Get out! Now you’re making fun of me.”

  “Maybe a little, but you’ve got to be careful, Weez.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. But they’ve got to find me first.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I got a little spooked here before I could explore the rest of the

  mound, so that’s—”

  “You? Spooked?” Eddie laughed. “You area spook. Nothing spooks you.”

  “Wel , this place does.” She pointed along the lengths of the two ridges to where they faded into the trees. “See how nothing grows on the mounds? I

  mean, isn’t that weird?”

  Jack saw what she meant. Low-lying scrub—most of it scorched and blackened—crowded around the trees and spread across every square inch of

  sand between them. Everywhere except on the mounds.

  Yeah. Weird, al right. Sand was sand. What made the mounds different?

  Or was it a single mound, angling in different directions?

  “Feel it,” she said, patting the surface. “It’s stil sand, but it’s hard. Like it hasn’t been disturbed for so long it’s formed some kind of crust.”

  Jack ran his fingers along the surface, then pressed. The sand wouldn’t yield. But something else … an unpleasant tingle in his fingertips. He pul ed

  them away and looked at them. The tingling stopped. He glanced at Weezy and found her staring at him.

  “So it isn’t just me. You feel it too.”

  “Feel what?” Eddie said, rubbing his hands over the hard surface. “I don’t feel anything.”

  Weezy was stil staring at Jack. “Now you know what spooked me.”

  She reached around to a rear pocket and pul ed out the smal spiral notebook and pencil she never went anywhere without.

  “I’l bet somebody designed this in a special shape. Let’s see if we can figure it out.”

  “What do you mean, ‘special shape’?”

  “A lot of these mounds are ancient—thousands of years old.”

  “You mean, like, burial mounds?”

  Jack had heard of those. The Lenape Indians used to inhabit the pines.

  Weezy shook her head. “Some of the most mysterious mounds have nothing to do with burials. Take the Serpent Mound in Ohio. It curves back and

  forth like a snake for over a quarter mile. And get this—nobody knows how old it is. This could be something like that.” Her face brightened as she smiled.

  “And Idiscovered it. I’ve gotto get this diagrammed.”

  Wondering how she knew al this stuff, Jack watched her draw a few lines on her pad, then move off, weaving through the trees as she fol owed the

  mound to the right. Jack and Eddie fol owed close behind through air heavy with the smel of burned wood. This was Weezy’s show, but Jack was getting

  into it. Something about these mounds and the way nothing grew on them gave him a funny feeling in his gut, but he had to admit he was fascinated.

  into it. Something about these mounds and the way nothing grew on them gave him a funny feeling in his gut, but he had to admit he was fascinated.

  “Oh, look at this,” she said after she’d gone maybe twenty feet. “Another mound crosses here.” She drew some more lines. “This is getting confusing.”

  “Hey,” Eddie said.

  Jack turned and saw him standing atop the mound with his arms spread.

  “Eddie—” Weezy began

  “You want to map these mounds, right? Wel , instead of ducking through al those trees, doesn’t it make more sense to fol ow the mounds themselves?

  It’l be a lot less boracious.”

  Jack to turned to Weezy. “You know, that’s a great idea.”

  Weezy hesitated, then shrugged. “I guess everybody has a good idea in them,” she muttered. “Even Eddie.”

  Jack bowed and made a flourish toward the mound. “Ladies first.”

  She smiled and faked a curtsy. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”

  As the three of them began walking the mound, the sky darkened. Jack looked up and saw a menacing pile of clouds scudding in from the west,

  blotting out the sun. Weezy shaded her eyes as she stared skyward.

  “Shoot. We’ve got trouble.”

  “Looks like a thunderhead,” Eddie said.

  She nodded. “Cumulonimbus—piled high. Going to be a bad one.”

  “‘Cumulonimbus’?” Jack had to laugh. Weezy never ceased to amaze him. “How do you knowthis stuff?”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure.”

  “Do you sit down and memorize everything you read?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have to. If I read something once, it’s there.I never forget it. Ever. At least not so far.”

  No wonder she got straight A’s. Jack would give anything— anything—for that power.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance.

  “Hurry,” she said. “I want to get this done before the downpour.”

  She started quick-walking along the mound until she came to another intersection. As she stopped to mark in her notebook, Jack looked around for

  Eddie and spotted him a couple of dozen feet back. He was down on one knee, fiddling with his sneaker lace.

  “Come on, Eddie. Don’t want the Jersey Devil to catch you.”

  He grinned. “You kidding? I have JD sausages for breakfast every morning.”

  He jumped up and started tro
tting toward them. When he neared he jumped and landed inches in front of Jack.

  “Boo!”

  More thunder then, but another sound too. As Eddie’s feet thumped onto the surface of the mound, they kept on going, breaking through the outer shel

  with a crunch.

  Jack looked down and saw Eddie’s sneakers sunk ankle deep in the softer sand within.

  “Jeez, man! What’d you do?”

  He heard Weezy hurry up behind him and gasp. “Oh, Eddie! How couldyou?”

  Eddie’s face reddened—whether with anger or embarrassment, Jack couldn’t tel .

  “Hey, I didn’t—”

  “You are the most unbelievable klutz! This mound’s sat here undisturbed for hundreds, maybe thousands of years, and you’re here, what, ten minutes,

  and already you’ve desecrated it!”

  “It was a soft spot! How could I know?”

  Lightning flashed, fol owed quickly by a roar of thunder that rattled Jack’s fil ings. He looked up at a sky completely lidded with dark clouds looking

  ready to burst. Jeez, this storm was coming fast.

  “Time to take cover, guys,” he said.

  He grabbed Weezy’s arm and started pul ing her back toward the bikes. He knew if he didn’t she’d probably stay in the open, storm or no storm,

  drawing her diagram. She didn’t fight him. Eddie fol owed.

  Just as they reached the bikes, the sky opened like a bursting dam. They huddled in the center of a thick copse of young pines.

  “Under a tree,” Weezy said. “The worst place to be in a storm.”

  Jack knew that, but didn’t see as they had much choice. Even under the trees they were getting soaked.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Weez,” Jack said, “we’re in the middle of the Pine Barrens. If you know of a place without trees, I’m al ears.”

  Weezy said nothing more, just crouched on her haunches, her eyes closed and her fingers in her ears. Eddie too. They both jumped with every

  thunderclap.

  Jack didn’t get that. He lovedthunderstorms—their fury, their unpredictability, their deafening light shows fascinated him. Same with his father. Many a

  summer night they’d sit together on the front porch and watch a storm approach, peak, and move on. Sometimes Dad would drive him over to Old Town

  where they’d park within sight of the Lightning Tree. For some reason no one could figure, the long-dead tree took a hit from every storm that passed

  overhead.

  The thunder grew louder, the lightning flashed brighter, the rain fel harder. The world funneled down to the copse and little else. Nothing was visible

  beyond their clump of trees. Water cascaded through the branches and swirled around their feet. Might as wel have been in the shower—except Jack

  wished he could have cranked up the hot water handle.

  He felt his Converse Al -Stars fil ing with water.

  Swel .

  3

  After a couple of forevers, the storm tapered off. When the rain final y stopped they stepped out of the copse and shook themselves off.

  Jack took off his T-shirt and wrung the water out of it. Eddie fol owed suit. Weezy didn’t have that luxury. Her Bauhaus shirt was plastered to her; she

  pul ed it free of her skin as best she could. Her soaked hair looked almost black, her bangs were plastered to her forehead, and her ponytail had become

  a rattail.

  “Look at us,” she said. “Three drowned mice.”

  “At least we didn’t get hit by lightning,” Eddie said. “Let’s get home. I need to dry off.”

  “But I haven’t mapped the mound yet.”

  Eddie rol ed his eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding! You can come back any time—”

  “Just give me a few minutes.”

  “Come on, Eddie,” Jack said, nudging him with an elbow. “What difference is a few more minutes going to make?”

  “Okay, okay. I’l stay with the bikes.”

  She pul ed out her notepad and regarded it with dismay. “Soaked!”

  But that didn’t stop her. She hurried ahead, hopped on the mound, and began retracing her steps. The sun popped out as Jack fol owed. Now he

  welcomed it.

  Weezy stopped where Eddie had broken through the crust and pointed to the edges.

  “See this? I was so mad at him I didn’t notice before, but it’s real y weird.”

  Jack saw what she meant. Eddie had shattered a four-or five-foot length of the crust into about a zil ion irregular pieces, but the edges of the broken

  area—the near, the far, and both sides near ground level—were perfectly straight. Could have been cut by an electric saw.

  The rain had done a number on the soft sand within the mound, washing it out and fanning it around the break like a cloud. Jack didn’t know what kind

  of cloud it resembled, but he was sure Weezy could tel him.

  He kicked over a random shard of crust and spotted something shiny and black beneath it. Before he could react, Weezy was on her knees and al over

  it.

  “What’s this?”

  She started scooping away the surrounding wet sand, gradual y revealing a black cube the size of a softbal . Gently, cautiously, she wriggled her fingers

  beneath it.

  “Why don’t you just pick it up?” Jack said.

  “Because it may be attached to something.” Her fingers must have met on its underside because suddenly she lifted it free and held it up. “Heavy!”

  She laid it on the ground between them and began to examine it, tilting it a little this way and a little that.

  Jack knelt opposite her. “What do you think it is?”

  She shook her head, looking as baffled as he felt. “I don’t know. Some kind of stone—onyx, maybe? It’s got no writing on it, but I get this feeling it’s …

  old.” She looked up at him. “Know what I mean?”

  Jack couldn’t say why, but he knew exactly what she meant.

  “Yeah. Very old.”

  “And where there’s one there’s probably others.” Her eyes were wide with wonder and excitement. “Help me, Jack?”

  He laughed. “Try and stop me.”

  He wanted one of those cubes for himself.

  So they started digging—not easy in the wet sand. But they kept coming up empty. Frustration was beginning to nibble at Jack when his fingertips

  scraped against a hard surface.

  “Got something!”

  He dug his fingers down on each side of whatever it was and pul ed it up.

  And found himself looking into the empty eye sockets of a rotting human head.

  He stared in mute, openmouthed, grossed-out shock. Beside him, Weezy screamed.

  4

  Jack spotted a sheriff’s patrol car rol ing down Quakerton Road, Johnson’s main drag, just as he, Weezy, and Eddie raced into town. Johnson—often

  confused with Johnson Place, fifteen miles northeast of here—wasn’t big enough to rate its own police force, so the Burlington County Sheriff’s

  Department patrol ed the streets.

  Trouble was, the cruiser was moving away.

  Jack threw extra muscle behind the pedals and started waving an arm and yel ing as he chased it. Whoever was behind the wheel must have spotted

  him because the cruiser pul ed over and waited.

  He skidded to a halt beside the driver’s window and saw Deputy Tim Davis behind the wheel. Jack knew him from when Davis used to date his sister,

  Kate, back in their high school days. He looked up at Jack through super-dark aviator sunglasses.

  “Hey, Jack. How’s that beautiful sister of yours?”

  Jack had pedaled so hard on his way back from the mound that it took him a second or two to catch enough breath to reply.

  “Greatwefoundadeadbodyinthepines!”

  He laughed. “Did you say ‘deadbody’? What? As opposed to a live one?”

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