Free Moonsong by L. J. Smith Page A

hummed.
    Bonnie’s footsteps slowed, and the tune in her head died off as she saw flickering lights il uminating a group of people up ahead. They were gathered in the courtyard in front of one of the dorms.
    Approaching, she realized it was a group of girls holding candles. The wavering light from the candles sent shadows across their serious faces. Propped against the wal of the dorm were three blown-up photos, two girls and a guy. Al across the grass in front of them were heaped flowers, letters, and teddy bears.
    Hesitant to break the silence, Bonnie touched the arm of one of the girls. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
    “It’s a candlelight vigil for the missing people,” the girl whispered back.
    Missing people? Bonnie scanned the faces in the photographs. Young, smiling, about her age. “Are they al students here?” she asked, horrified. “What happened to them?”
    “Nobody knows,” the girl said, her gaze serious. “They just vanished. You didn’t hear about this?” Bonnie’s stomach dropped. She knew that a girl was attacked—or something—on the quad the first night, but she hadn’t known about any disappearances. No wonder her gut instinct had warned her to be scared walking across campus the other day. She could have been in danger.
    “No,” she said slowly. “I didn’t hear anything.” She dropped her eyes and bowed her head, silent as she sent out a fervent hope that these three happy-looking people would be found, safe and sound.
    In the distance, a siren began to wail.
    “Something’s happened.”
    “Do you think someone was attacked?”
    A babble of frightened voices rose as the sirens got closer. A girl near Bonnie began to sob, a hurt, scared sound.

    “Al right, what’s the trouble here?” said a new, authoritative voice, and Bonnie looked up to see two campus police officers shouldering their way through the crowd.
    “We … uh…” The girl who had spoken to Bonnie gestured at the photos and flowers against the wal . “We were having a vigil. For the missing people.”
    “What are those sirens for?” another girl asked, her voice rising.
    “Nothing to worry about,” said the officer, but his face softened as he looked at the sobbing girl. Bonnie realized with a slight shock that he wasn’t much older than she was.
    “Miss?” he said to the crying girl. “We’l help you get home.” His partner looked around at the crowd. “It’s time to break things up and head inside,” he said sternly. “Stick together and be careful.”
    “I thought you said there was nothing to worry about,” said another girl angrily. “What aren’t you tel ing us?”
    “There’s nothing you don’t know already,” the man said patiently. “People are missing. You can never be too careful.”
    If there’s nothing to worry about, why do we have to be careful? Bonnie wondered, but she bit back the words and hurried away down the path, toward the science building where Zander had suggested they meet.
    The idea of trying to have a vision, to see if she could learn anything about the missing people, nudged at Bonnie’s mind, but she pushed it away. She hated that.
    She hated the loss of control when she slid into one of her visions.
    It was unlikely to work, anyway. Her visions had always been about people she knew, about immediate problems facing them. She didn’t know any of the missing people.
    She bit her lip and walked faster. The excitement about her date had fizzled out, and she didn’t feel safe now. But at least if she got to Zander, she wouldn’t be alone.
    When she arrived at the science building, though, Zander wasn’t there. Bonnie hesitated and looked around nervously. This corner of campus seemed to be deserted.
    She tried the door of the science building, but it was locked. Wel of course it was—there weren’t any classes this late. Bonnie shook the handle of the front door in frustration. She reached into her bag, then groaned as she realized she’d left