Free The Harrowing by Alexandra Sokoloff Page B

under his arm and unfolded it to the sports section to reveal a headline. He displayed it like an attorney with Exhibit A:
    CORNHUSKER ROUT: 28-14
    Patrick gaped. “Alabama by fourteen. Fuck me backwards.” He grabbed the paper, scanned the article.
    Robin was reeling. We couldn’t have known that. Not any of us .
    “Now tell me how we just happened to call that, dude .“ Lisa gloated.
    Cain’s face had gone very still. He glanced at Robin sharply, and she looked back, bewildered.
    Lisa was already pulling out a chair, seating herself at the table in front of the board. “Okay, Zach. Time to wake up.” She looked up at Robin expectantly. Her eyes gleamed in the muddy light.
    Patrick looked up from the newspaper, glancing around at the rest of them. “How the hell did someone know that?” His eyes came to rest on Lisa.
    Lisa smiled at him, catlike. “We didn’t. Zachary did.”
    Cain spoke, his voice hard. “Bullshit.”
    “Interesting, though, isn’t it?” Martin said. “I for one can’t think of any logical explanation for any of us knowing those game scores. Which leaves us with two alternatives: Coincidence…” He paused importantly.
    For effect , Robin thought.
    “Or…we actually achieved some kind of precognition. Perhaps through our mutual concentration on the board.”
    Lisa sat back in her chair and laughed. “We could keep blatantly ignoring the obvious. Or we could just ask him. Zachary.”
    Cain laughed shortly, shaking his head. “It’s your game. Go on and play.” His glance grazed Robin, and for a moment she thought he would say something more, but he merely walked out through the arched doorway, leaving the four of them in the dim paneled room.
    “Robin,” Lisa urged from the table. Robin took a step forward.
    “I’ll do it,” Martin said abruptly, and brushed past Robin to sit across from Lisa. The two reached simultaneously over the board to put their hands on the planchette, and Robin noticed again that they seemed strangely comfortable with each other.
    Patrick moved in closer. He caught Robin’s eyes for a moment, then looked away.
    Lisa pressed her fingertips into the wooden pointer. “Zachary, are you there? We want to talk to you.”
    The room was silent. Robin found herself holding her breath. The trees outside the tall windows swished in the wind.
    But the planchette was motionless under Lisa’s and Martin’s hands.
    “Zachary, did you move the furniture?” Lisa demanded.
    The planchette was still over the black letters. Lisa shifted in her chair, wheedled suggestively. “Please won’t you come talk to us?”
    Nothing.
    Robin moved closer to the table, impatient. It won’t work with Martin. He knows that—we saw it last night.
    Lisa looked up at Robin, as if reading her thoughts. Martin looked at the two girls, then stood reluctantly, ceding his seat to Robin.
    Robin sat, extended her hands to the pointer.
    Lisa met her eyes, pressed her fingers into the wooden piece. “Zachary…”
    Beside the table, Martin and Patrick watched, everyone holding their breath.
    Robin leaned forward slightly, trying to feel…something. “Zachary…”
    The planchette was still and dead under her fingers. Lisa looked at Robin.
    Robin shook her head slightly, spoke to the others. “He’s not here.”
    Martin nodded, looked at the girls, at the board, thoughtfully. “The conditions aren’t right. Why?”
    Robin took in the other three against the shapes of tumbled furniture. She didn’t know how, but suddenly she knew. “Cain. We need everyone.”

CHAPTER TEN

    The rain poured down monotonously outside.
    Lakes formed in the lawns of the faded mansions; muddy rivers churned in the footpaths under the drenched and drooping trees.
    In the window seat of her room, Robin had a book open on her lap, as if to fool herself that she was studying. But her gaze was fixed on her spiral notebook, where she was doodling a rather romantic sketch of the pale young man from her dream.
    She