Princess of Apocalypse Read online

  Chapter V

  Shopping Trip

  On Saturday, the world seemed perfect again. The sun was shining over a bright blue sky that missed yet a single cloud. Vicky picked me up for shopping in the local mall as my car was still in repair. We had lunch at the Mexican in the food plaza, an old tradition, despite the Mexican food did not do anything good for our bikini bodies, which were needed on Monday. Nevertheless, traditions die hard. “You can’t shop on an empty stomach”, Vicky used to say.

  Soon Vicky ended up with a new Bikini for every day of our trip. She convinced me to buy a deep blue one myself, “Jake will freak out”, she promised me and I settled for some sexy black lace underwear, too. Honestly, she talked me into it.

  “Are freaking out boyfriends what we need?” I asked back.

  “It’s our first time, it should be perfect.”

  Perfect? I contemplated. “In a tent with the constant fear that Mr Smith or Mrs Jennings would come in and spot us naked?”

  “I’m sure you two find a nice spot… You’ll see it will be perfect. Don’t over-think it!”

  “Bag check, Miss Parker.” I had not even seen him coming. An elderly security guard, who was posted right next to the exit, standing there with a younger version of him, like master and apprentice.

  I stopped and opened the plastic bag, showing the content. “Of course.” It was Mr Roberts, I haven’t seen him for years. But you never forgot a person in a small town like Beacon Hills, where everyone knew everyone. I thought he’d retired. Most likely, he had been running out of money and had to go back into the workforce. Happened more and more nowadays.

  “Anything forgotten?” Vicky asked.

  “Hmm”, I think. “A birthday present for my Dad?”

  “Do you’ve a receipt for that, Miss Parker?”

  Vicky raised her eyebrows questioningly. “You want to buy him something from Cinderella’s Bras Shop?”

  “Sure!” I shoved in the back pocket of my jeans and pulled out the receipt.

  “Hell, what is your father up to? I thought of him as a normal guy. Overprotective, but alright.” Vicky’s face was a picture of disgust.

  I flushed. “Of course not, I mean Mr Roberts. Dad, I buy him a new Swiss Army pocket knife. I lost his one last month on our camping trip.” Sometimes mishaps like that turn out being a great future present. So no, I wasn’t feeling particularly guilty about it. Also, I was used to it anyway. Misplacing, losing things was second nature to me.

  “Mr Roberts?”

  “The security guy, C’mon Vic, you must remember him. He used to give us a lolly when we were younger.”

  “Izzy”, she struggled to understand, I could see it the way her eyes rolled with confusion. “Izzy, Mr Roberts is dead for years. He died from a stroke right here in the shop.”

  “Stroke — what are you talking, he’s right here—“

  Only that Mr Roberts wasn’t here anymore and my index finger pointed into emptiness. “He was here a second ago.”

  “Alright, you’re officially freaking me out.” Vicky grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the shop. “Did you have anything to drink today?”

  “At lunch, we had a coke, remember?”

  “Maybe too much caffeine is bad for you.”

  “You hurt me”, I said and tried to free myself from her grip, but she was like a bossy mother and pulled me to the electric stairway that would lead us to the ground level.

  “Whatever, I save your social life. You don’t want to become an outsider like those Russian freaks, don’t you?”

  “Dimitri and Tatiana are from Slovakia, not Russia.” I trotted obediently behind her.

  “Whatever, it’s all the same. You can thank me later, when you’re married to Jake and have three kids.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “There is a stand downstairs selling freshly pressed juice, you need something to drink.”

  “And no word to Jake about this”, she warned me with her index finger when we left the stairway. “He would break up with you before you could count to three.”

  “Vicky… stop pulling my arm!” With a jerk, I pulled myself free. “I’m not a child.”

  “Two large orange juices”, she told the lady behind the counter.

  “Vicky, does Mr Roberts has a twin brother?” I asked, sounding as casual as possible.

  “How should I know? And now stop talking about him.”

  “I didn’t even know he’s dead.”

  “It was kind of a big thing two years ago. All over the news.”

  I darkly remember, but I had no clue the shop worker had been the good-hearted Mr Roberts. “What is happening to me?”

  Vicky took a deep breath, before she faced me and pressed me a large cup of orange juice into my hands.

  “Maybe you turn into someone like Jennifer Love Hewitt in Ghost Whisperer and have to bring dead people into the light. I hope not.”

  “Are you Elizabeth Parker?” A voice sounded behind me.

  “Yeah”, I answered and turned around. There was a young girl about eight years with braids to both sides and a cheeky look over her freckles. In her hand she held a red balloon, which stated in white letters Happy Birthday.

  “Yeah, you turn into a nutcase of a ghost whisperer or yeah hopefully not?”

  “I’m speaking to the girl –“

  “Mr Roberts said you can see us”, the little girl said.

  Don’t freak out, Izzy!

  “Which girl? Izzy, stop this game. It’s not funny! You freak me out!”

  My glance wandered between Vicky and the little girl, but it was obvious, Vicky couldn’t see her.

  “Izzy, are you taking drugs?” She had this stern motherly look in her face, my mom would be proud of her.

  “The test was negative”, I reminded her. My glance went back to the girl and I remembered. Alison McRay. She died around a year ago when her mother was distracted with packing the groceries into the boot of her car and a pickup ran over the little one, when she went after her balloon. A real tragedy, the girl died at her seventh birthday, right in the car park outside the mall. My mouth stood gaping open. That can’t happen.

  “It’s okay”, the girl said. “Usually, no one can see us. I just wanted to say hello.”

  She gave me a wink.

  “Izzy?” It was Vicky. “Izzy, are you okay?”

  “I want to go home”, I brought out finally. A colossal of a headache started radiating from both temples. “I really just want to go home.”

  Chapter VI

  School Excursion

  Lucky me, there were no more dead people turning up over the rest of Saturday and none on Sunday, either. I called it, improvement. And so was Vicky. My parents wouldn’t have let me out anyway and Vicky literally moved in on Saturday evening for a night over at my place. We hadn’t done this in a while. It was good as I’d been close freaking out and Vicky brought me back from the realm of darkness in which my mind was wandering.

  She had heaps of plausible theories about what’s happening to me. In fact, you only had to google the internet for seeing ghosts and you were presented with heaps of websites explaining you why ghosts are only an imagination and not real. It felt so good having her around and having a real girl’s night. Vicky left after lunch on Sunday, declaring she’d to pack for the camping trip. My packing was done in less than half an hour.

  Monday arrived sooner than I wished. I believe Vicky got the idea of a camping trip wrong. She arrived with two pink trolley suitcases, one large, one cabin baggage. “Miss Duval, you certainly understand the difference between a trip to Paris and a camping trip?” Mr Smith questioned her when she handed the bags to our bus driver, who groaned under the heavy weight of the big one.

  “Honestly, Mr Smith, Paris would have been preferred over camping, but you really can’t expect me to leave my hairdryer at home.

  “For what do you need a hairdryer, Miss Duval?”

  “My hair, of course.”


  “Yes, I got this, but I hope your dryer is working on battery as there is no electricity on our trip.”

  “You’re joking?”

  “I’m most certainly not, Miss Duval. For your own sake, I hope you recharged your cell phone, too.” It was hard to miss his giggle when he turned around and inspected the baggages of the other students.

  “They could have mentioned it!”

  “Totally”, I told her encouragingly.

  Jake and John arrived with a large army backpack and a set of Tom Cruise’s jet fighter sunglasses. They looked so cute — as usual. Totally different to the freaks, who arrived in their usual gear and a small black backpack each, not even fully stuffed.

  “They don’t intend to wear this garbage for an entire week, do they?” Vicky asked with honest repulsion in her voice.

  “Lucky we don’t have to share a tent with them”, John added.

  That was right, accommodation was strictly regulated and split between boys and girls, no mixed tents, an exception was made for the freaks as they were cousins anyway and to be honest, no one liked the idea of sharing a tent together with them.

  “We should buy them an air freshener for their tent”, Jake said with a giggle. “Just so that they get the hint.”

  “You’re mean”, I commented, but ran my fingers through his full hair nonetheless.

  “Mean but better smelling.”

  Since that dream, whenever I thought of Dimitri, the smell of frankincense hit my nose. Of course, he had nothing of it; that means I couldn’t tell as I never got close enough to him to make a judgement. And he’d saved my life in that dream. Izzy, it was a dream. He was not even wearing that bandage anymore, another sign of my dream world getting the better of me.

  Soon later we hopped on the bus. It was still fairly early in the morning and most students caught up with sleep and so did the gang. I didn’t. I plugged in my headphones and listened to some classical music, while reading a few old poems and tried to make out their meaning.

  Time was crawling by and halfway we made a forty-minute rest on a car park. I took my stuff with me and settled on a bench and a table not far away, waiting for the others to return from the bathrooms. Usually, I’m never alone. Not with Vicky as head of the cheerleading squad and John and Jake captain and co-captain of our football team. I didn’t mind, just buried my head in my e-book reader and tried to get behind the deeper meaning of a poem. Concentrating was difficult. Firstly, I got tired. Secondly, I had this concerning feeling of being watched. I glanced up now and then, and once I noticed, Tatiana and Dimitri were staring at me from their shady spot underneath a tree. Creepy. I continued reading, but when I checked a minute later, they were still watching me, talking under their breath with each other. They’d no right talking behind my back as I was the only one defending them, when the gang talked bad about them. Maybe they didn’t deserve my compassion. I made a mental note and shoved my e-reader back into the bag. With a sigh, I raised, stretched myself, there was a noise I couldn’t relay to, but it was quickly forgotten, when I saw the gang returning and I marched off welcoming them back.

  “The toilets are horrible here”, Vicky said angrily.

  “Our princess expected a five star accommodation”, John laughed. “Guess what, honey, enjoy that one, it might be the last toilet you had for a week.”

  “You’re joking?”

  “I’m not, honestly, scout’s word of honour.”

  “Why couldn’t we go to Paris?” she cried and boarded the bus.

  “Because, we should learn something about nature—“ I started but got interrupted.

  “Elizabeth?”

  I turned around. It was Dimitri.

  He’d never addressed me, never spoke a single word to me, except in English class when we shared a role play, but this didn’t count. I was short of words, I guessed a yes would have done, but right then I could bring out nothing.

  “Elizabeth”, he tried again. “You dropped this over there.” His chin jerked at the bench on which I’d been sitting before. In both his hands he held my e-reader like a precious artefact, which I noticed was still switched on.

  “Oh.” Oh. Did I turn mental? How about, thanks. No, instead I behaved from my worst side and simply grabbed after the e-reader and ripped it out of his hands.

  “Evelyn Hope?” he asked, his unsettling eyes drilling into mine like electric screwdrivers. It made my head spin, my heart was racing.

  “What?” I made a deliberate step backwards, but he made one forward and this made me even more uncomfortable.

  “I noticed you read Evelyn Hope.”

  “And?” Why was I so angry with him? He had done nothing wrong.

  “It’s…”, he struggled for words, “unusual reading material nowadays.”

  “Out of fashion”, he added a moment later, when I didn’t respond.

  “It’s sad”, I commented, meaning the out of fashion part. All those old plays and poems are slowly getting extinct and sometimes if you get its deeper meaning they’re so wonderful.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “He should have told her.” He must have read the poem as he was clearly referring to the content and not to the fact it had gone out of fashion. The poem was about a girl that died and now her love would never get the chance telling her his feelings.

  “But then, there wouldn’t be a poem, would it?”

  “No”, he nodded in thoughts. “But she would’ve died happy. Don’t you think so, Elizabeth?”

  “Hey, hey, hey freak, back off, you’re not talking to my girl, is that clear.” I had totally forgotten about Jake. He stepped suddenly in between.

  “Your girl has a name, it’s Elizabeth, if you’ve forgotten. And she isn’t your property. At least that’s what the constitution of this country is proclaiming, right?”

  The next moment, there was a push and Dimitri fell, no, flew backwards to the hard ground.

  “Hands off my girl, freak, don’t even dare to look at her ever again. Otherwise, I beat the shit out of you.”

  I should have said something right then, but I was paralysed. And Dimitri was back on his feet, as swiftly as he did in my dreams. Anger — no — scorn, written all over his face. There was a tone escaping his mouth, no human being should’ve been able bringing that out. That was dangerous and forced me another two or three steps backwards, making my back collide with the side of the bus.

  Jake punched his right fist into his left palm. “Okay, I teach you a lesson.”

  “We teach him a lesson”, John added and built himself up next to his brother.

  “Fight, fight, fight”, Dean shouted prompt.

  I wanted to go in between, stop this madness, but my feet were frozen to the ground. And then there was a red veil filling the gap between the two godlike superheroes and the slender Dimitri, who clenched his teeth together, rapidly losing control. The red veil was Tatiana, her hair dancing in all directions with her head veering from one side to the other.

  “Stand down”, she shouted, to my surprise at Dimitri, not the two godlike superheroes.

  “Stand down”, she repeated, “Listen to the sound of my voice.”

  “Oh, the freak needs a girl coming for his rescue”, John laughed.

  “You call this chick a girl”, Jake mocked.

  With both hands onto his chest, Tatiana tried pushing her cousin backwards, but he was like a rock in the surf and didn’t move an inch. “Snap out of it, Dimitri. Follow my voice. Don’t give in to the temptation.” She snipped with her middle finger and thumb several times, but it had no effect on her cousin.

  The two superheroes assembling closer behind her. “Go out of the way, bitch!”

  Tatiana gazed back to me, our eyes interlinked for a moment, a pleading in hers, the words mouthed to me not audible, please.

  Once more, I’d the feeling, she wasn’t asking for helping her cousin, but to save those stupid idiots of superhero boyfriends, who just brought themselves into a situation they had no idea abo
ut they were even in it. I pushed myself off from the bus and hurried over. All became slow motion, John pushed Tatiana, she bumped into Dimitri’s arms — conveniently for her — Dimitri manoeuvred her out of the situation, while she was hanging around his chest like a backpack and trying to get through to him. I didn’t know what to do, so I simply tried the same with Jake and jumped onto his back.

  “Hey, Izzy!” he shouted angrily. “Let go of me.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Mr Smith barked and acted like a wall between the two parties. I never was so delighted seeing him, arms stretched to both sides with his palms raised up like a stop sign. Just now I realised, teacher was actually a dangerous job and I must admit Mr Smith was utterly courageous.

  John pointed his index finger at Dimitri. “This is not over. Watch your back.”