Free Nightmare by Robin Parrish Page A

really did get a tattoo, and if the person that gave it to her was one of the last people to see her, then
it could be important, yeah," I said. "But if you have any other
leads, I'm listening."
    He didn't reply.
    "All right, then," I said. "Now, most tattoo parlors don't require identification for the procedure. So they're not likely to
recognize her name. Which means we'll have to give a physical
description ofJordin and hope it rings a bell with someone. The
more specific we can be, the better. Jordin's a tall, lovely blonde.
I'm sure they see plenty of those, so we need to give them details
that aren't as common."

    Derek looked at me, thoughtful. I thought he was going to
ask me something else about tattoos, but he had other things on
his mind. "Carrie said Jordin was never around in the evenings
in Martha's Vineyard. Was she ... was she doing what I think
she was?"
    "Probably. Martha's Vineyard is very old," I acknowledged.
"It has tons of locations believed to be haunted. Jordin must've
been sneaking out each night to investigate. By herself. She was
still chasing the paranormal."
    "What was she thinking?" Derek's expression turned hardedged, but he was silent for a long time. Finally he said, "She was
really obsessed with this stuff, wasn't she?"
    I remained silent. That was one question I wasn't eager to
answer.

    I fell asleep quickly that night, feeling content that the day
had been well spent. We hadn't found Jordin but we'd narrowed
the search, and I believed it was only a matter of time until we
turned up some new information about her.
    And cracking a missing persons case while still in college
would look killer on my job application.
    I woke up around midnight when someone rapped loudly
on my door. Worried it was Derek with dire news aboutjordin, I quickly jumped out of bed. But when I opened the door, nobody
was there. The lights were on out in the hall, as they always are,
and I could hear other residents behind their closed dorm doors,
listening to music or talking and laughing. But no one was in
the hall.

    I figured someone was just being stupid and trying to get a
rise out of me. I went back to sleep.
    By two a.m., I was dead asleep again. Yet for no reason I could
identify, I sat up with a start, opening my eyes wide and looking
around my room.
    At the foot of my bed stood the outline of a human figure. I
had all the lights out and the curtains drawn, so I couldn't make
out any features. Just a silhouette.
    I was startled, but quickly my experience in the paranormal
kicked in, and I studied the apparition as best I could, staring at
the spot where its face should have been. Part of me wondered if
it might be Jordin, come to bring me another ghostly message.
    Then I blinked once, and the figure was gone.
    I was sure it had happened, that it was real and not a dream.
Yet the more time that passed after I lay back down, the more I
was inclined to think I was just over-tired and seeing indistinct
shapes in the shadows that my mind tried to form into a familiar
pattern.
    I eventually fell asleep again.
    Less than two hours later, I awoke once more.
    Surrounding my small bed were five dark, hazy figures.
    My first thought was that this whole night was probably
some kind of hazing. Someone in my dormitory had learned
about my past and cooked up a prank as some kind of senior
year rite of passage.

    But then I realized that I could see through all five figures.
    As before, they vanished almost as fast as I laid eyes on them.
But at the same moment my bed raised up off the floor by an inch
and then slammed back down. Every muscle in my body clenched,
and I didn't know if I should get out of the bed or stay put.
    Loud, clomping footsteps echoed across my small room's
floor. My bedside lamp flew off the nightstand and shattered
against the front door on the other side of the room. Books
from my desk flew open, their pages fluttering. My small television, mounted atop my