Scary Out There by Jonathan Maberry Page A

were well worn, his leather jacket even more so. His glasses seemed to almost have a tint to them, causing what little light existed in the car to glance off them so that she couldn’t see his eyes.
    Looking at him made her stomach clench, but whether it was with unease or excitement, she wasn’t sure. And she knew, then, that he’d been telling the truth when he’d told her he was an old friend—not in any way that was easy to explain or understand, but in a way that felt like some deeper truth.
    She pressed her hand against her chest, reassuring herself of her thundering heart. “I know the question I want you to answer.”
    He didn’t turn to look at her but continued staring forward, into the illuminated night. But she could feel the tension in him. The set of his shoulders and the grip of his hands around the wheel.
    â€œWhere are we going?”
    He reached forward and flicked on the radio. It started scratchy before music filled the car. “Does it matter?”
    She thought about that a moment, watching the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel to the beat of the familiar song. She knew what the right answer should be: Yes. That it was stupid to climb into a car with a stranger. It was even more stupid to care what a stranger thought of her. To trust the words of someone she didn’t know.
    To believe them more than you believe yourself.
    But none of that mattered to her. Because he’d come for her. He’d been the only one. Would probably ever be the only one. It was like in the movies, where suddenly someone had seen her.
    All Cynthia had ever wanted was to matter to someone. And now she did.
    She knew how this story ended—she’d read it before. He would take her to a wide field and hold her tight, and she would go willingly because she so badly wanted out of her life.
    What did it matter if she was perhaps trading one hell for another?
    She opened the door and slid into the car. “No,” she told him. “I don’t care where we’re going.”
    He nodded once, but there was no smile, no semblance of victory for him. As though this was a game he was tired of winning. He flicked the sound of the radio up, and Cynthia sat back, enjoying the way the car’s acceleration pushed against her. For once the world was open and wide and unknown before her, even if she knew it wouldn’t last.

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The Mermaid Aquarium: Weeki Wachee Springs, 1951
    CHERIE PRIEST
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    B ut you never know!” Tammy plunged one hand into the trunk of mismatched shoes and felt around with her fingertips. “We could find buried treasure in here. You can’t beat buried treasure for . . . what does the sign say, a nickel?”
    Her sister reread the hand scrawled note taped inside the trunk’s open lid. “A nickel,” she confirmed with a shake of her head. “Honestly. Who pays a nickel apiece for mismatched shoes?”
    â€œA pirate. One with a peg.”
    Elaine picked a blue leather sandal out of the pile and spun it around on her pinky finger. “I’d love to meet the pirate who’d wear one of these . Peg or no peg. Hey, speaking of pirates—I hear we get to do battle with pirates.”
    â€œBattle? With pirates?”
    â€œThat’s what Mr. Newton said.”
    Once again elbow deep in stale footwear, Tammy laughed. “Mermaids versus pirates. That’s going to be amazing . Ooh, what’s this?” Her hand hooked something down at thebottom. She yanked it up and out—a shiny silver crown with big, fake-looking gemstones.
    â€œWhat on earth is that?”
    â€œBuried treasure. I told you we’d find some!” She held it up to the sky and let the afternoon sun beam through it, casting choppy rainbows across the lawn. “This will be perfect for my outfit—look, it’s got little clips on it and everything. It’ll stay on my head underwater, right?”