SURVIVOR Read online

  SURVIVOR

  PROLOGUE

  BREAKING NEWS….

  This is a breaking news alert. Police believe the serial killer known as The Candyman has been killed during a raid on his home. Again, it is believed that the serial killer known as The Candyman, who has been terrorizing the area for nearly two years, is dead. The Chief of Police will be holding a press conference later today and we will bring you up to date as we learn more at News at 6.

  CHAPTER 1

  She was hungry and thirsty. She knew her mom had told her to order pizza, but what she really wanted was some milk and cereal. Checking the time, she knew she had enough time to make the short fifteen-minute walk to the convenience store. It was bright aside and if she hurried, the roundtrip would take less than thirty minutes. There was nothing to worry about.

  ***

  Dad knocks on my door. “Hey, kiddo, are you ready?”

  Standing in front of the floor length mirror, I take a long look at myself. I’m dressed conservatively in blue pants, a white blouse, and a blue blazer. My dark hair is brushed, and I’ve added a little gel to tame flyaway strands, so it has a sleek, composed look. “I’ll be right out, Dad, don’t worry,” I respond and laugh when I hear him huff. But he clomps off, probably looking for his keys and wallet.

  My phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. It’s been buzzing a lot because Cassie and Cornelius can’t be with me today. I swipe the screen and read the missed messages.

  Brad: Pops and I are sorry to miss the whole thing but tell me about it when you get back, okay? Sundae’s on me.

  Cassie: Shopping! Gotta get you some fancy schmancy clothes. Oh, Corn says grats, too. But ya know, he’s 2 cool 2 text u directly.

  Corn: Baby girl, Cassie is a liar. Gratz. You call if them rich kids give you trouble.

  Laughing, I text them back. Cassie is not the world’s best texter, but she loves poking fun at her big brother. I send hearts to Brad and Cassie. I blow kisses to Cornelius. I’m going to miss seeing them frequently when the school year begins, but I know I’m doing the right thing.

  Breaker Academy, one of the top private boarding schools, is offering me a full scholarship. The school doesn’t just open doors; it creates doors for students. To increase diversity at the school, Breaker Academy is offering a full ride to four new students: room and board, uniforms, and a hefty debit card for incidentals. Apparently, they want to be sure that the scholarship kids wear clothes befitting the standards of the rich and powerful. And lucky for me, I am one of the recipients of said scholarship.

  I’m not one to care about elite schools, but there is a sweet catch. Since I am entering my senior year, if I am one of the top ten ranked students, they will pay my tuition to whichever college I attend for four years. That is not something to laugh at. As Dad and I don’t have a secret money tree, I only have my brains to fall back on. Even if I don’t get a full ride to college, just getting into Breaker Academy ensures a lot of top colleges will want me. Besides, there are always academic scholarships and need-based financial aid.

  In my opinion, Dad and I are quite lucky. Dad does freelance programming work and we get to live right at the edge of the prestigious west side. That’s where the “well to do” live – and Breaker Academy is only an hour or so away. Three years ago, Brad and his dad invited us to move into the mother-in-law’s apartment they’d built when Brad’s grandmother lived with them briefly. It’s more like a two-bedroom cottage attached to their house that has a door for added privacy. It’s not as if we were in danger in the east side of town. We were always safe thanks to Cornelius. We moved because the schools on the west side are better. Dad’s had a lot of random health issues, too, and having Brad and his dad, Joe, around just made things easier. Brad said it was a no-brainer since we were like family anyway.

  I’ve attended the nearby public high school, which is a solid school all around, for three years. Because Cornelius’s business is on the eastern side, it meant more phone calls and weekend playdates, but Cassie and I made our friendship last. She’s not boarding school material – and she also just graduated from high school, anyway. She’s taking a year or two off until I know what I’m going to do for college.

  Brad’s upset he isn’t going to see me get the scholarship to Breaker Academy, but it’s a workday for him and Joe is off doing Chief of Police stuff. We’ll celebrate later, perhaps at a diner if he’s promising me a sundae. While he’s not thrilled that I’ll be living on campus during the week, he knows the full ride thing is too good to pass up.

  Dad and I arrive on Breaker Academy’s well-groomed campus. The school has a pretty fountain and there isn’t a trace of green in that water. I half-expect to see swans wading majestically. The grass is super green, which probably means way too much fertilizer, and there isn’t a weed in sight. Do they hire gardeners to manually tame the weeds or is there a vat of weed killer being dumped here?

  Breaker Academy is situated near the coast. It’s close enough that you can smell the ocean and feel the cooling breezes coming off the water, but not so close that you can run there without crossing a dangerous highway. We’ve been invited here along with the other families to meet our welcoming crew. It’s very low-key – in fact, I think they’re trying to hide us from the rest of the school. In hindsight, I’m glad it isn’t being done in front of the entire school.

  The school is like a miniature college campus. On one side are the dormitories. The dorms are staggered so they make a jagged pattern against the hills they’re situated against. The dorms are separated by sexes: the odd-numbered dorms are for the boys, the even-numbered dorms are for the girls.

  The classrooms and administrative offices are on the other side. When we locate the auditorium, Dad and I are the last of the scholarship recipients to arrive. Since this is the first year they’re running this program, there’s only four of us with our respective families and I’m the only female.

  The headmaster, Mitch Philips, is a jovial-looking individual that reminds of a beardless Santa Claus. He even has some serious eyebrows that expressively move when he talks. When he enters the auditorium, I’m struck by the group of well-dressed, well-groomed students that follow him.

  The students are wearing the school uniforms assigned to seniors so they move like dark shadows. There are three boys and one girl; I can’t help but appreciate the symmetry of the four scholarship kids to the non-scholarship kids.

  The girl is very fair, with classic European looks. She’s blond with blue eyes, and she’s roughly my height. Her hair and makeup are flawless. The boy next to her is just as blond and he has the same blue eyes. Siblings for certain, possibly twins. He’s taller, though, and solidly muscular. Even though the uniform hides the definition of his body, I suspect he’s an athlete. The boy next to him is also tall, but his build is leaner. While the blond boy has boyish good looks, the boy next to him has more chiseled features. I expect he gets ogled quite a bit by girls. His hair is jet black like mine; his haircut was likely a lot more than fifteen dollars. The third boy is an inch or two shorter than the blond boy, and he has perfectly coiffed brown hair. He’s a bit more tanned and slimmer than the other two. I’m struck at how they move like a unit; their body language tells me that they’ve known each other for quite some time.

  The raven-haired boy sees me observing them and his eyes narrow. He murmurs to the brown-haired boy, who then talks to an older couple that comes in. The girl keeps a fixed smile on her face.

  I sit down to a boy who introduces himself to me as Zayd – seems genuinely nice. Headmaster Philips goes onstage and begins to speak. “Good afternoon, everyone. I am Headmaster Philips. Thank you for coming. Breaker Academy is so pleased to be offering scholarships to students who deserve to be among the best of the best. Before we introduc
e our recipients, I want to thank the Foresters for being one of the major benefactors of this program.”

  The headmaster gestures to the couple. The woman, who I presume is Mrs. Forester, is a walking Gucci ad. Her husband is an older and grayer version of the dark-haired boy. Mr. Forester clearly wishes to be elsewhere, but Mrs. Forester has a kind, but distracted, smile on her face.

  Headmaster Philips nods at Mrs. Forester and she joins him on stage. Now that I can see her clearly, Mrs. Forester looks rather frail. Her head is a little too big for her thin body and she looks like a harsh wind could snap her. She reminds me of Nancy Reagan. Her expensive clothes, though fitted, seem to hang off her frame. The headmaster hands her four envelopes.

  “I would also like to introduce some of your future classmates to you.” The headmaster gestures to the students near the Foresters. First, the blond girl joins the headmaster next to Mrs. Forester. “Marissa Creed will be a mentor for all of you while you adjust to life at Breaker Academy.” Then the blond boy and dark-haired boy and raven-haired boy join Marissa on stage. “Let me introduce members of our student government. Chase Creed, Rhys Forester, and Damon Rossi. They are thrilled you will be joining them in representing the best of Breaker Academy.”

  I can tell the boys are all thrilled by their tight-lipped expressions. One by one, we are called up. Adam Chang is first. He’s tall and gangly and I learn he’s an awesome runner. Next is Zayd Nair. The headmaster talks about Zayd’s passion for science. After Zayd is Andrew Summers, a gifted pianist. And because of my last name, I’m the final one to step on stage.

  “Juliet Zelinsky.” I wince as he mentions my test scores and other dumb things. I hate my name. My mom had been high when she named me.

  I shake Mrs. Forester’s delicate hand next and she looks at me sweetly. “Congratulations, my dear,” she says in a thin voice.

  I smile and mumble something polite, but I avoid looking at anyone directly. I press Marissa’s hand tentatively, then I shake hands with the boys. Chase smirks, Damon looks bored, and Rhys grips my hand so hard that I almost cry out. I mark them as people not to mess with. I can’t help the involuntary shudder that passes through me as I leave the stage.

  The headmaster concludes everything with a smile. “I look forward to seeing our newest students in two weeks.”

  The ceremony in itself is a little odd and seems only to be a mode for scholarship winners to meet each other. Nonetheless, Headmaster Phillips indicates we should mingle.

  “We’ll be in the same dormitory, Juliet,” Marissa says in a lilting voice. “Actually, on the same floor.”

  “Oh, great.” To my ears, my voice sounds rough and uncultured. It makes me wonder if Marissa attended a class on how to speak beautifully.

  Her blue eyes flick over me – yup, she’s judging me. Chase Creed goes to her side and I see the family resemblance when she introduces him as her twin, but I can’t imagine twins being any less alike. Now that I’ve heard his name, I know he’s a football player – his name is frequently in the papers.

  Damon Rossi, on the other hand, makes small conversation with me and Adam, but there is nothing friendly about him. “I’ve been told you had a perfect PSAT,” he says in a tone that makes me think he doesn’t believe it. He straightens his perfectly pressed uniform.

  “That’s how I qualified for the scholarship,” I quip, and his eyes, which are a dark gray, focus on me.

  “Hmm, yes, about that…” Damon trails off with fake sincerity. “I do hope you won’t find the academics at Breaker too daunting.”

  “The students at Breaker Academy don’t utilize tutors or other help,” Rhys says, his lips curling. “It’s sink or swim.” I decide that Damon and Rhys failed classes on small talk. If Damon is calm and collected, Rhys vibrates with unpleasant intensity.

  “Thank you for the tip,” I say. “I’ll remember to bring my life preserver.”

  Damon narrows his eyes with disdain, but Rhys just glares. They have serious eye issues.

  The scholarship winners cluster for a minute. Zayd whispers loudly to me, “Those guys don’t seem all that friendly.”

  “I hope they leave us alone,” Adam worries out loud.

  I snort because I’m very ladylike. “We’ll probably be ignored. We just need to survive one year and kick their snotty asses. Remember, it’s sink or swim.” I say the last bit in my haughtiest tone.

  Andrew smiles at me as I put my hand out in the center. One by one, they add their hands to the middle. “Poor people united,” he quips. “I hope you’ll come and hear me play sometime. It sounds like they brought you in for your brains, my music—”

  “And my stunning good looks,” Zayd offers, striking a pose.

  We burst into laughter and I glance at the Student Council of Gloom and Doom. “See, money doesn’t buy happiness,” I snark. Damon meets my eyes and it’s clear he knows we’re talking about them.

  Marissa’s expression is relatively benign, but there are negative vibes coming from the boys. I’m not afraid of them. I’ve been through hell and back and survived.

  Adam, Andrew, Zayd, and I exchange numbers and we start a group chat that Zayd calls “The Poor Peeps.” I think I’m going to like being part of this group.

  Dad comes over and links our arms. “Ready, kiddo?” he says, smiling at my new friends.

  “Yes, I can’t wait to show them the power of public education.” I wink at Zayd, give a saucy wave at the rich kids, and head out with my dad.

  ***

  Cassie: Rich punks suck. Let’s get Corn to beat them up.

  Me: They aren’t worth Corn’s time.

  Cassie: Uniforms, huh? But u got money for xtra clothes?

  Me: Yes. Shopping? Can you believe it? They gave me suggested stores to shop at.

  Cassie: omg. I’m gonna wear skank clothes and visit u at school.

  Me: Do it!

  CHAPTER 2

  The body of Nora Swanson, the fourteen-year old that went missing four days ago, has been found. Police believe that Nora Swanson is the latest victim of the notorious serial killer dubbed The Candyman. FBI profilers have been called in to help the task force assigned to the case. Once confirmed by the FBI, this will mark the Candyman’s sixth victim.

  ***

  Move-in day is Monday with classes officially starting Wednesday. Joe, Brad’s dad, allows us to use his Cadillac Escalade to move my things. I don’t have a lot, but there are several items I really want with me during the school week.

  Breaker Academy allows students to go home over the weekends, if they so desire. The number of kids on campus varies weekend to weekend since the homework load often dictates whether students leave. Since home is only an hour away for me, I plan on being with my family as much as possible.

  Before I leave, Cassie helps me carry Officer Bear and the Survivor Album to the Escalade. Brad and Joe gave me Officer Bear when I was twelve. I think the whole police department chipped in because the bear is as big as me and it looks custom-made. When scared, Officer Bear reminds me that I’m safe.

  Cassie and I made the Survivor Album together. I started it after my therapist suggested an outlet for intense emotions, and Cassie and I decided to build it together. Cassie is really the only one who understands my thoughts and feelings. When you go through something traumatic together, it really cements the bond. The album is filled with letters, essays, pictures, and every nightmare we’ve had. Whenever we need to add to it, Cassie and I do a ceremony where we meet, share, and then glue the new item inside the album. We then tie the album back up in twine, keeping our fears locked up safe.

  I learn that I’m in House 4. That’s right, fancy Breaker Academy calls their dorms houses. As Dad and I pull up to the dorm, I see Zayd and wave.

  He’s of average height, which means we’re the same height. His round face lights up when he sees me. He jogs over, grinning. “All the boys are in House 5 so we’re close. We can go between houses until 9 p.m. before the campus security shoos us
back in jail. Adam and Andrew got here super early.” He sees Dad carrying Officer Bear and Officer Bear is so huge that you can’t even see Dad. “That’s a big bear!”

  “It’s a security blanket,” I laugh. “Want to meet up for dinner?”

  Zayd nods. “Yeah, I’ll tell the guys. We poor folk have to stick together. I’ll text you.”

  Dad mumbles some words, but I just grab my suitcase and Dad brings Officer Bear.

  We’re glad the dorm has an elevator because Officer Bear is not easy to maneuver. The dorms have two to three living quarters per floor, and each floor is equipped with a kitchenette, a shared bathroom and a shared living area.

  When I arrive at my room, I see that there are six full uniforms and a box I assume are filled with shoes and other school uniforms.

  Dad stumbles into my dorm room, whistling as he drops Officer Bear. I don’t blame him. The room is the size of a small apartment. On one side, there is a standard bed and a full-sized desk for studying. On the other side, there’s a decent-sized wardrobe and a small personal vanity. I look critically at the space and realize there’s probably room for a chair and a mini-fridge.

  I move my new uniforms into the wardrobe while Dad finds the sheets we packed for the bed. He finds the cotton sheets dotted with yellow suns and starts making the bed. “I’ll go and grab the other stuff, kiddo.”

  “Okay.” I place Officer Bear on the bed like how I do at home. The next thing I do is find the picture of me and Cassie and place it on the desk. It’s my favorite picture of us. In the picture, we’re both thirteen. Cassie is nearly a year older than me, so we took the picture as soon as I turned thirteen. We’re hugging each other tightly as my dad wheels in a birthday cake for me. In the background, you see Corn, Brad and Joe, all in regular clothes. Even though Cornelius is the most dangerous person in that room, he’s wearing jeans and wearing the goofiest grin as he looks at me and Cassie.