What follows is part 5 of the re-serialization of Westville Book 1. New parts drop every Monday and Friday.
If you’re new to Westville and want to dive in, you can get the books on Amazon or signed copies direct from my website:
16
Westville seemed to hold its breath.
Olivia felt it in pulses of unspoken tension, a low, humming fear that things weren’t safe anymore. She saw it in the way people talked in hushed voices at the gas station, in the way parents clutched their kids’ hands tighter at the grocery store.
News of Mr. Meyers’ death in a wreck was all over the TV and radio, along with the ongoing missing minor alerts. Millie’s face was everywhere. On the news, the Westville Ledger and the Iron Falls Tribune, on flyers tacked to telephone poles.
Or… Emily was.
Emily Grace Thompson, age 13.
Everyone called her Millie though, so Olivia didn’t know why they didn’t just use that, and it pissed her off for some reason.
At school, it was worse.
When Olivia walked through the doors that Monday morning, the weight of a hundred stares pinned her in place. Some were sharp, like the red pupil tips of Judge Doom’s dagger eyes at the end of Roger Rabbit that had once given her nightmares. Others softer, sad-eyed spotlights of pity, but both made her stomach turn. Not to mention the way people were talking about her friend, like a sick joke or a victim in a slasher movie. Already a goner.
Olivia kept her head down, but the week dragged. Every time she passed the empty desk in algebra, something twisted inside her. By Wednesday, it was unbearable. She swapped her biology book for an advanced algebra one, her fingers tracing the worn cover, remembering how Millie had saved her from failing so many times.
The thought made her gut churn.
She veered down the hall for Mrs. Summers’ classroom, dreading both the test and the empty seat waiting inside.
As she rounded the corner, she nearly plowed straight into Kyle and Austin. They were lurking by her locker, glancing over their shoulders as if they were waiting for someone to jump out at them.
Kyle’s voice was unusually subdued. “Hey, Liv. You… doing okay?”
“Define okay,” she muttered, shoving her book into her bag. “Millie’s missing, the whole town’s on edge, and people are treating me like I’m cursed. You?”
“Pretty much the same.” Austin fidgeted with the strap of his backpack. “Everyone keeps asking about her. It’s… weird.”
“Annoying, is more like it,” Kyle said, crossing his arms. “Especially when we don’t know anything more than they do.”
Austin gave him a sidelong look. “At least they’re trying to care.”
“Doesn’t feel that way.”
Olivia shut her locker harder than necessary, her jaw tight.
They started walking, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.
“It’s messed up,” Kyle muttered.
Silence settled between them, heavy and uncomfortable.
Then, just before they reached Mrs. Summers’ room, a voice cut through the din.
“Fischer.”
Olivia turned.
Brett Huizinga was pushing off the lockers across the hall, flanked by two of his usual lackeys. One of them was Kevin Davis, the same Kevin who’d been down by the river the night Millie disappeared. The other was named Matt, she thought.
Kyle and Austin tensed beside her.
“Guess that friend of yours should’ve stuck around the other night,” Brett sneered.
Olivia’s pulse spiked.
“Oh, right.” Brett smirked. “Don’t wanna upset you too much. You might throw up on someone else’s shoes.”
“No. I’d make sure to aim for yours again.”
Brett’s smirk widened. “I’ll bet that stuck-up narc got what was coming to her.”
The hallway noise dulled, conversations pausing, a few heads turning toward them.
Kyle muttered, “Let it go, Liv.”
Olivia stopped walking.
Kyle’s hand brushed her arm, a silent warning, but she shook him off.
Millie would’ve walked away. But Millie wasn’t here. And that was the problem.
Olivia clenched her fists, pressing the heavy algebra book tight to her side.
Brett took a step closer, his voice carrying. “Maybe she did us all a favor and ran away. One less spoiled Thompson in this town.”
Kevin shifted uncomfortably. “Come on, man…”
Austin’s eyes darted between them, nerves creeping into his voice. “Just ignore him.”
She didn’t. She took a slow step forward. “I’d listen to your goons if I were you, Brett.”
Brett scoffed. “Why’s that?”
Olivia gripped the book tighter. “Because. I hate math.”
Brett frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This.”
She reeled back and swung, slamming the rigid spine of the algebra book into Brett’s nose.
The satisfying crack echoed down the hall.
Brett staggered, his hand flying to his face. Blood streamed between his fingers.
“Solve for that, prick,” Olivia hissed.
His face contorted in pain and fury. “You crazy b…”
“What is happening here?”
Mrs. Summers’ sharp voice cut through the tension. The teacher stormed toward them, her face a mask of fury.
“Miss Fischer.” Her gaze flicked to Brett and back to Olivia. “Did you do this?”
Brett’s mouth snapped shut, probably unwilling to admit he’d been beaten by a girl. So Olivia answered for him.
“Yeah. Because he’s a sleazeball.”
Mrs. Summers’ lips thinned. “Come with me. Now.”
As Olivia was marched toward the office, she shot a glance over her shoulder.
Kyle gave her a nervous thumbs-up. Austin offered the faintest, uncertain smile.
For all the trouble she was about to be in, Olivia felt a strange satisfaction settle in her chest. Maybe, if she were lucky, she’d get suspended. And that meant more time to go looking for Millie.
It felt good to do something. The cold, gnawing worry hadn’t gone away. But neither had her resolve.
After whatever reprimand awaited her, she was going to find her friend.
No matter what it took.
17
“That was awesome,” Kyle said, dramatically miming the way Brett had flopped when her algebra book connected with his face. He raised his Go-Gurt like a trophy, finishing the reenactment with a grand flourish. “End scene.”
“Doesn’t change anything,” Olivia muttered, stabbing at her lunch without interest.
When she’d walked out of the principal’s office, all she wanted was to bolt. To run straight out of school and start looking for Millie. But she knew full well that if she ditched, Kathy would ground her into oblivion, making everything harder. And she had not, in fact, been lucky enough to get suspended, which probably would have also been negated by grounding anyway.
So she forced herself to head to the cafeteria instead, trying to think.
“Yeah, but it had to feel good,” Austin said, nudging her. “Brett had it coming, the way he was talking about Millie.”
Olivia nodded absently, her fork twisting through the limp excuse for stir-fry, the cafeteria’s Wednesday special.
“It’s been five days.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Austin and Kyle exchanged a look. The joking faded, replaced by something heavier. She knew they were just trying to lift her spirits. She appreciated it, even if it didn’t help.
“Nothing from the cops?” Austin asked quietly.
Olivia shook her head. “I called Mrs. Thompson last night.” Again. She bit down the frustration that clawed at her throat. She’d been calling every night, spending hours at their house, trying to be useful. But she wasn’t sure if it helped or just made things worse. “The police think she ran into the woods near the old Scout cabin.”
Austin swallowed. “I heard search parties were all over there through the weekend.”
“And they didn’t find…” Olivia stopped herself before finishing the thought.
“Burrough’s Bend,” Kyle said, shifting uncomfortably. “They didn’t get any… evidence?”
“Millie didn’t get murdered,” Olivia snapped. “I know that.”
She meant it too. Call it hope or whatever other delusion, but she did. Had to.
Kyle nodded slowly, eyeing her with a sort of boyish confusion. “I mean I don’t think so either, but they found that church guy’s truck and…”
“It was a bus, and it doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t mean he killed her and doesn’t mean she’s dead, okay?” She caught her breath. “I just feel it.”
Kyle raised both his hands in surrender. “Right. Fair. I… feel it too, I guess.”
“Very convincing,” said Olivia.
Then Austin muttered, “Devil’s Peak.”
Olivia looked up sharply. A flicker of something unsettled ran through her chest.
“That’s near where they think she went missing, right?” Austin said, taking a long sip of his chocolate milk, like it was something stronger. “The trail leads right up to it.”
Olivia swallowed, a memory creeping in before she could shove it back down.
Her dad, sitting on the couch, the glow of the old TV flickering across the room. His stories. Some he made up, others picked up along the way. Slate River Jim. A hermit who lived near Devil’s Peak, some lost old man who’d show up just in time to help people find their way back to town before disappearing again. She remembered how those stories always ended. With him grabbing her, tickling her sides until she squealed, both breathless with laughter. She forced the thought down, stabbing at her food, and started to recount the legend of Slate River Jim, which she ultimately regretted.
“Sounds like a Cotton-Eye Joe ripoff,” Kyle blurted.
Olivia gave him a flat look and continued. “In the stories, he helped people. If they got lost in the woods, he’d find them, lead them back.”
Kyle shrugged. “Okay, but what about the Banshee? Supposedly some big hairy creature that screams so loud it stops your blood. Scouts still tell that one.”
Olivia snorted. “Great bedtime story to tell a bunch of kids alone in the woods.”
Kyle ignored her. “What if the Banshee is Slate River Jim? But like really old and like a bigfoot or something now?”
“Yeah, probably not,” Austin said, leaning in. “But my grandpa says there was an Odawa shaman who lived up there too. Trickster type. Made people strike bad deals with dark spirits, that kind of thing.”
Kyle wrinkled his nose. “What kind of prank is that?”
“Not a prank,” Austin said. “More like… persuasion. He tricked people into eating human flesh. Drinking blood.”
Kyle recoiled. “Why? That’s messed up. But isn’t your gramps a little… you know?”
“Old and forgetting stuff? Yeah. But he knows a lot. He’s an Odawa Lore Keeper, tells the traditional stories at powwows. It’s kinda like the Wendigo story. Someone gets a taste for it, and they lose their mind. Endlessly hungry, never full.”
Olivia’s stomach turned, the unappetizing concoction of noodles and greasy chunks of meat suddenly more unappetizing. She pushed her tray aside.
Still, Olivia shook her head. She was long past believing in ghosts and curses.
“All I know,” she said, her voice firm, “is that Millie is out there. And I can’t sit around doing nothing.”
“That’s why they have search parties,” Kyle said.
“I need to go, and I will one way or another.”
Kyle made a face. “Whoa, whoa. You can’t just wander into the woods without, like, gear and stuff. Flashlights, compasses, radios… a map wouldn’t hurt either.”
Austin and Olivia exchanged a look.
Kyle sighed. “What?”
Austin smirked. “Your uncle’s the Scoutmaster.”
Kyle’s face darkened. “So?”
Austin gave him a knowing look. “He has the key to the shed by the cabin. All that stuff would be in there.”
Kyle groaned. “I’m not gonna ask my uncle to help us sneak out past curfew…”
“I’m sure Eli would help.”
Olivia frowned. “Who’s Eli?”
“No way…” Kyle groaned louder.
Austin snorted. “He’s not that bad.”
“Yes,” Kyle asserted, “he is.”
“You just can’t stand the fact that he’s earned more badges than you, and he’s a year younger.”
“Whatever. He didn’t get the Astronomy badge, and I passed that one with flying colors.”
“Thanks to space nerd camp,” Austin remarked.
“If you think Eli could get us what we need,” Olivia said, pushing between their back-and-forth, “we have to try.”
Kyle let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”
Olivia had perked up by now, but it was short-lived.
“What about curfew, though?” Austin asked.
That was a real problem. No one under sixteen was allowed out after dark unless they were with an adult. They’d never make it into the woods without someone noticing.
For a moment, that put a damper on things.
Then Olivia remembered what she and Millie were supposed to be doing tonight. Their annual Hocus Pocus viewing party.
“Halloween,” she said. “That’s when we go.”
Kyle frowned. “What?”
Austin nodded. “It’s tomorrow. And I haven’t heard them cancel trick-or-treating.”
Kyle jabbed a finger at him, chewing a mouthful of chips. “The curfew’s so tight right now that I saw a cop car drive by our house, like, four times last night.”
“Exactly,” Austin said. “They’re all watching for kids breaking curfew.” He leaned forward. “But if everyone is out, dressed up, walking around, blending in?”
Olivia smiled. “They won’t look twice at us.”
Kyle exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “This is insane.”
“Are you in?” Olivia asked.
Kyle hesitated.
Then he sighed again. “Fine. Tomorrow night.”
Austin gave Olivia a look.
Hold on, Millie. We’re coming.