Reunion at Walnut Cherryville (The Eternal Feud Book 1) Read online

  Reunion at Walnut Cherryville

  By

  Lauren Salem

  Copyright © 2013 Lauren Salem

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank my sister, Julia Salem, for always enthusiastically volunteering to be the first person to read my stories. She is a great listener and contributed many of her own ideas to this book, which made it what it is today. Her editing and marketing efforts are much appreciated.

  I also want to give a special thanks to my friends: Anne Janecek, for bringing Walnut Cherryville to life with her spectacular illustrations, as well as Linda Rutledge and Erin Teeple for being my constructive critics and editors.

  Lastly, I thank my parents for their patience, support, and encouragement.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1: Johnny

  Chapter 2: Vincent

  Chapter 3: Laura

  Chapter 4: Collins

  Chapter 5: Johnny

  Chapter 6: Vincent

  Chapter 7: Laura

  Chapter 8: Collins

  Chapter 9: Johnny

  Chapter 10: Vincent

  Chapter 11: Laura

  Chapter 12: Johnny

  Chapter 13: Laura

  Chapter 14: Collins

  Chapter 15: Vincent

  Chapter 16: Collins

  Chapter 17: Johnny

  Chapter 18: Laura

  Chapter 19: Collins

  Chapter 20: Johnny

  Chapter 21: Vincent

  Chapter 22: Johnny

  Chapter 23: Collins

  Chapter 24: Laura

  Chapter 25: Collins

  Chapter 26: Vincent

  Chapter 27: Laura

  Chapter 28: Johnny

  Chapter 1: Johnny

  Counselor Hank was a persistent man invested in correcting the lives of troubled teenagers. Behind his black, rectangle-rimmed glasses, fancy suit, and British accent, he was just a multiple choice test asking me the same question in different ways twenty million times. When he invited my friends and me to a late lunch, I felt like it was a trap to continue our counseling sessions, but we agreed to it under one condition: he must bring a lady friend from the other side of the fence. I would do anything to get out of Sonoran Correctional High School, a boarding school for juvenile delinquents, who otherwise would have faced jail time for their crimes. When I was ten years old, I murdered someone, and then my biological parents got divorced. Shortly after the murder, my father died, but I didn’t think about that too much anymore.

  “I wonder who he’s gonna bring,” Collins mumbled while brushing his teeth. “She better be hot. I hope he brings that girl with the dark eyeliner, the one who always presses her boobs up against the fence at lunchtime.”

  Everyone looked forward to lunchtime, not because we got to eat or because we didn’t have to sit (sleep) through boring lectures, but because this was the only time of day we got to see any girls. The school was divided by gender with the correctional school for girls on the other side of the fence. Every day we had a choice to eat either inside or outside. I know for a fact that about 99.9 percent of us chose to eat outside so we could watch the girls eat in very suggestive ways. Laura, the girl Collins was in love with, would press her boobs up against the fence and let us touch them for five dollars a feel. Many girls would let us kiss them if we gave them three dollars, or they would kiss or feel each other, but I just preferred to watch whatever I could see from a distance. Sometimes, if the boys got too close without paying, the girls yelled at them and stopped the show until they paid. Those girls would run my pockets dry, so I chose my seat carefully. An arm’s length distance from the fence, also known as front row, cost two dollars for guys who were just watching. Second-class seats were at the tables, and those were free. Rain or shine, the show always went on at lunchtime while the teachers were bitching about us in the teacher’s lounge.

  “I think I know that girl from somewhere,” Vincent added as he applied a heavy layer of black eyeliner. Vincent was the Goth of the group who always dressed in tight black clothes, which contrasted against his frail, pale-skinned body and blue eyes. He used coal-colored dye for his root touch-ups every Sunday, so no one would notice that he really had blonde hair.

  “Did you bang her?” Collins asked.

  “No.”

  “How could you know her and not bang her?”

  Vincent rolled his eyes, but I laughed as I slicked back my brown hair. There was no better way to say “nice to meet you” to a nice girl than a pair of washed-out, holy jeans; a wife-beater; and a red flannel shirt.

  “Collins, hurry up. We have to meet the driver in five minutes,” I said.

  Collins grabbed a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt from his locker and quickly dressed. When he was done, we ran to the front of the school to meet up with Counselor Hank, singing “Girls, Girls, Girls.” Collins opened the car door, and there she was, the girl he was hoping for: a beautiful stallion with baby blues surrounded by dark eyeliner, choppy blonde hair, and curves like a rollercoaster.

  I could imagine a mini toy truck riding those curves as she was lying down sideways on the bed. The engine would struggle up her thigh, then stop at her hip for a rest before the deep drop down her waistline.

  “Look at you all: tall, chocolate, and handsome,” she said. “I’m Laura and you are?”

  “Co-co-co—”

  “Collins,” I said, “get in the van.” I nudged him; he snapped out of it and got in the van. I got in next, followed by Vincent who closed the door.

  The driver took us to a café a few blocks from the school. We all sat around a table outside on the patio under a rainbow umbrella. The café patio was fenced in and decorated with live cacti and southwestern pottery. The waitress handed us our menus and took our drink orders.

  “A pitcher of mango tango smoothie for the table, please,” Counselor Hank said.

  Once the waitress left, silence brewed like a strong cup of moonshine while we stared at our menus. I didn’t know what to talk about with Laura and apparently neither did Collins or Vincent. Hey, I’m Johnny, I said slickly in my mind. How awkward is this…ha…ha…ha.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Counselor Hank said. “Though you did not have a choice in the matter, I appreciate that you did not cause a ruckus in front of the other students.”

  “Why do you think we’d make a ruckus? You payin’ for lunch, right?” Collins asked as he pointed at the counselor. “If you ain’t, I’ll dine and dash!”

  “There will be no need for that, Collins. I’m perfectly capable of paying for your lunch,” the counselor responded. “I brought you here because I just want you to relax and think about your future.”

  “Not this again,” I complained. “How many counseling sessions are you going to waste, talking about what I’m going do after high school?”

  “As many as it takes, Johnny. You all are high school seniors now and will be graduating very soon. Now please, no more talking until I give you permission.”

  “Free will needs no permission,” Vincent added.

  “Let’s begin,” the counselor said as he took out a notepad and pen from his bag. “Where do you see yourself next year? In your vision, what are you doing?”

  “Swimming in the cash that I make from the brothel in Las Vegas,” Laura answered cheerfully. “I’m gonna be legal next year!”

  “Pro-NBA basketball player,” Collins added.

  “I will not conform to be another worker bee in society,” Vincent said.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “This just doesn’t seem important.”

&nbs
p; The waitress brought the pitcher of mango tango smoothie. “Are we ready to order?”

  “Just a few more minutes,” the counselor said. “This will be the most important decision of your life…”

  I poured myself a glass and passed it on as the counselor blabbed nonstop about making choices. The creamy cold mango and banana flavors danced on my tongue as my mind drifted into a better place: a field of deer grass with dandelions whipping around in the wind. I kicked my shoes off, threw my socks away, and ran barefoot across the field…sometimes doing cartwheels…in my boxers. The best feeling in the world was as simple as the earth between my toes. Toward the end of the smoothie, my vision of the real world became blurry, and my eyelids couldn’t stay open for even another second. My body became limp, the smoothie shattered on the ground, and my head smacked against the table. In my mind, I felt sick and started throwing up as I hovered over the deer grass. After relieving myself of the poison, I lay down on my back, gazing at the clouds in the sky, when I heard a voice from beyond the fields.

  “They all look pretty out to me,” a man’s voice said.

  I sat up and looked around, but there was no one else in the field except me. Hello? The ground began to tilt, causing me to roll down the hill. As I fell down a steep drop alongside the grassy hill, I saw a rocky creek at the bottom of the drop. Two thousand feet until collision: my eyes widened, and my heart jumped in fear. One thousand five hundred feet until collision: I was trying to snatch the grass, but it kept slipping through my hands. One thousand feet until collision: I held on to two handfuls of grass for dear life. Sweat dripped down my face as my heart fluttered. I got to take a few deep breaths before the earth began shifting again. The grassy ground now hung over my dangling body, and the sky was beneath my feet. The grass slowly broke from its roots. What would happen when I hit the sky?

  “OK, just tie their hands, and throw them in,” the voice said before the last few blades of grass broke off. The wind whipped through my hair and clothes as I fell a few thousand feet. The clouds separated between my fingers, and, no, they did not feel like cotton balls. This was unfortunate. Before I realized what was coming ahead, my body fell on a transparent glass, and I got a quick glimpse of the world beyond the field.

  “Shit, his eyes—”

  “Shhhhh,” another man whispered with his finger over his mouth. The shadowy men stepped back, letting the sun shine brightly into the glass. Darkness began to consume the light from two opposite ends of the glass until all the light had vanished.

  “What was that? You don’t think he saw us, do you?”

  “Nah, it’s just a reaction. He won’t remember what he saw when he wakes up.”

  Chapter 2: Vincent

  I knew the mango tango smoothie was contaminated before I drank it. Someone put a sedative in the drink before it went into the blender but didn’t grind it up properly. The white, crumbly pill was still evident in the smoothie when the waitress served it to us, but I was the only person who didn’t drink it. For Johnny, the glass became half-empty fairly quickly, even though he sipped it through a straw. Collins ditched his straw, threw it on the floor, and chugged it, “like a man,” with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Laura used her straw like a spoon and occasionally mixed the smoothie. Counselor Hank finished his last because he was more focused on the conversation. He only took a few sips between sentences when he talked so much his mouth became dry. No one was listening to him. Johnny seemed to stare up into the umbrella’s undercarriage for quite a long time. He was probably daydreaming. When Collins finished chugging the smoothie, he coddled his head in his arms from the agonizing brain freeze. I gazed at Laura, which made her feel uncomfortable. She’d smile at first and then bounce around in her chair, trying to avoid my never-ending eye contact.

  No one noticed the danger that was right in front of them because they were all too distracted by something else. Who contaminated the smoothie? I thought it was either the waitress or Counselor Hank, but why would he drink it if he knew it was contaminated? Everyone was facedown on the table within a few minutes. I pushed the smoothie aside. Out of nowhere, a dart flew into my neck, and I fell asleep like the rest of them. At that point it was doubtful that Counselor Hank had anything to do with this…unless he was crazy enough to drug himself and pretend he was just like one of us. What about the waitress? She never came back to take our order. Hmm…

  I gazed at the counselor, who lay on his belly, sleeping with his hands tied behind his back like the rest of us. The cargo truck hit a bump on the road, causing a large box to fall on the sleeping hostage. The counselor groaned and struggled to roll the box off his back. I noticed the tape was peeling off the box, and I was curious about what could be inside. Maybe the contents of the box would give me a clue about who abducted us or where we were going. I used the wall to help push myself on my feet before I kneeled next to the counselor, grasped the tape with my teeth, and pulled the box open. About fifty packages of blueberries marked with a “WCV” label were packed away in that box. This didn’t really help. The label didn’t mean anything to me.

  “Where are we?” Laura asked. “Why are my hands tied behind my back?”

  “I had the strangest dream ever,” Johnny added.

  “Someone get this box off me!”

  “Which one of you mother-fudgers did it?” Collins demanded. “It was the counselor all along! I knew he had an ulterior motive for taking us out to lunch. I shouldn’t have fallen for it.”

  “We were all abducted,” I said.

  Everyone gasped and started to panic.

  “Everyone calm down,” Johnny interrupted. “As soon as this truck stops, we’re going to get out of here. We just need a plan.”

  Everyone became silent.

  “Enlighten us, Johnny,” I said.

  “I’m sure if we just talk to them everything will be OK,” the counselor suggested.

  “They don’t look like they wanna talk. I mean, they abducted us and all,” Collins argued. “Don’t you think if they wanted to talk they would have been a little friendlier?”

  “I have a plan,” Johnny interjected. “We should hide behind these boxes, so when they move the boxes they’ll be surprised when we kick them in the face.”

  “Violence is not the answer,” the counselor said. “Adults handle situations by reasoning with one another. Johnny, you don’t know anything about the situation. Kicking the people in the face will probably make our situation worse.”

  “I think the counselor is right,” I added. “Since we don’t have the use of our hands, there isn’t much we can do to hurt them without getting ourselves into more trouble. We would only be able to run away if we knocked them out. We don’t know how many of them are out there, or if they’re armed. Actually, I do know they have tranquilizer guns. I got shot after you guys drank your smoothies.”

  The truck came to a stop, and everyone hushed. Our heads turned to stare at the door with wide eyes. The lock clicked open, and the door rolled up into the truck.

  “Y’all look like you saw a ghost,” a man in a black uniform said. “I’m Herb, and I’ll be escorting you to your final destination, so—”

  Collins shrieked in fear. “Did you hear what he said, you guys? ‘Final destination’…You know what that means? We’re all gonna die at the end!”

  “Son, you watch far too many movies,” Herb replied. “This is nothing like Final Destination, but it can be, if you like.”

  “I’m not sure if you’re trying to make me feel better or worse.”

  Four other men in black uniforms approached the truck.

  “Everybody out,” Herb said.

  As I got out of the truck, I noticed each man wore the same logo I found on the box of blueberries. The circular patches were plainly designed and said WCV above the words “Herb” and “Guard.” Herb grabbed the rope, tied my hands together, pressed what felt like a gun against my back, and told me to walk.

  “What’s that?” I asked.
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  “You don’t want to find out. Now do what I say.”

  “Who are you people?” Collins shouted.

  “Start walking now!”

  My feet shuffled through the sand as the strong sun blazed in my eyes. The guards closed and locked the gate behind us. There was nothing but sand and gates around us, and it seemed like we were walking in the middle of nowhere. My foot hooked on something, causing me to fall to my knees, where I was suddenly ambushed by a skeleton that popped out from beneath the sand. Sand flew into my eyes from the skeleton’s eye sockets, and I blinked several times to try to get it out. Herb quickly pulled me up and pushed me to continue walking. I walked the rest of the way in the dark with my eyes closed. A few minutes later, I couldn’t feel the sun on my face anymore, and the temperature felt cooler. A door closed and locked behind me.

  “Someone push his hands through the bars so I can untie him.”

  My arms were pressed up against the cold metal bars, and my hands were freed.

  “Have some water,” the guards said before they walked away.

  “Vincent, are you OK?” Johnny asked. “Sit down. The guards are gone.”

  “I feel like I have a million cuts in my eyes,” I responded as I slowly sat down on the cement floor.

  “I’m right behind you. Lie down into my lap. I’m going to flush your eyes out with water.”

  Once I was lying in his lap, he held my eyelids open and dripped water into my eyes. I blinked a few times in an attempt to restore my vision. We were surrounded by black bars and brick walls. Everyone looked exhausted and sweaty.

  “Drink your water,” Johnny said as he handed me the bottle.

  “I think I’ll pass. It’s probably poisoned.”

  “The bottle was sealed. I think it’s fine. If you don’t drink, you’ll dehydrate.”

  “Fine,” I said before I gulped down all the water.

  “Do you think anyone’s looking for us?” Laura asked.

  “If the office notices you didn’t check back into school by the end of the day, then they’ll be looking for us,” the counselor said. He took out his cell phone. “I’m not getting any service.” He stuck his arm through the bars, reaching his phone into the hall. “Still no service.”