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His dark chuckle echoes around us.
Bastard.
At the very least, I might get a head start if Pennywise eats him first.
The light from Drake’s phone stutters before going out, and we’re plunged into complete and utter darkness.
I suck in a harsh breath, hating every moment as I wait for him to get the light back on.
“Did your phone just die?”
He lets out a curse.
The dripping seems even louder in the dark, or maybe that’s just my imagination. A skittering sound that has to be from something larger than a rat has me clutching for his arms.
I won’t hyperventilate. I won’t hyperventilate. I won’t hyperventilate.
“What are we going to do?” I force myself to ask, instead of screaming.
“It’s fine.” Drake sounds confident, but I can sense the tension running through his body. “The tunnel only leads in one direction. We can’t get lost.”
“I’m not worried about getting lost, I’m worried about being eaten by a killer clown!”
There is a beat of silence. When he finally speaks again, I can hear the smile in his voice. “Who knew that the great Evangeline Pratt is scared of the dark. I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”
The challenge in his tone is impossible to ignore. I’m not supposed to be the one with weaknesses that can be exploited, at least not in front of him.
“I’m not afraid,” I snap.
“Oh, really?”
Before I can stop him, Drake moves away from me. My arms flail in the dark as I reach for him, but he manages to evade me so I’m only left grabbing for empty air.
“Drake!”
“If you’re not a little quieter, they’ll hear you all the way to Havoc House.”
“Where are you?” I swing my arms wide but encounter nothing except empty air. “This isn’t funny.”
“Who’s laughing?”
Burgeoning panic makes my voice come out slightly wheezy. “I’m serious.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t think you are. At least not about this. I’m putting everything on the line to help you. You won’t even be honest with me about being afraid of the dark.”
My hands tremble and I wrap them up in the fabric of my sweater, even though I know the trembling isn’t from the cold.
Bad things happen in the dark.
Creeping footsteps that linger in the hallway outside your bedroom, moving shadows growing larger in the light underneath the door. You so badly want them to move away, but that desire only makes the guilt worse.
If he doesn’t open your door, it’s because he chose the one across the hall.
I let myself be convinced that the monster outside my door wasn’t real, but I’d been wrong.
There are so many things to fear in the dark.
The penetrating blackness is disorienting, making it impossible to know which direction is forward. My hand touches the slimy wall, if just to anchor myself to something aside from the surrounding nothingness.
