“Maaaa-Dooo,” he stammered, looking crazed. He turned to leave.
“Wait. Mado?” I repeated, sort of. “Is that a person?”
He shook his head frantically and more tiny leaves fell out of his hair. “Maaaad Dooooog,” he yelled.
“Mad Dog?” I asked, sure I had heard him wrong.
He shook his head again. More leaves tumbled from his hair and then he took off running.
This time I didn’t bother to stop him. I kind of wished I hadn’t stopped him at all now. He really freaked me out, more so than I was to start with. Instinctively, I looked over my shoulder fully expecting the “Mad Dog” in question to be directly behind me. Of course, it was just a knee-jerk reaction to his explanation that didn’t make any real sense.
“Puh-lease, Mad Dog? Come on.” He was probably tripping on something.
Across the yard, a few more people ran past and cut through the woods which dumped out on the drive further up. Cups littered the ground and the grass was flattened as though a stampede had just come through, which I guessed was a close enough analogy at this point. My stomach twisted and I wrapped my arms around my waist, hugging myself. Normally, doing that gave me some kind of comfort. Not now though. It was like something was gnawing from the inside of my stomach, trying to get out. I knew what it was…fear.
A lone spotlight was turned over on its side and the white light made a halo on the ground in front of the stage. A pair of graffiti converse poked out from underneath, shaking violently. My stomach lurched at the sight. Struggling with my conscience, I fought the urge not to run away, and instead made myself move forward. I knew who those shoes belonged to…Chance.
39-FRIGHT
Chance’s shoes snapped back and forth violently as I ran forward and tried to see underneath the stage, through the scaffolding.
“Oh, God!” I couldn’t see. It was too dark. “What am I doing? I’m no hero.” Everything in me was telling me to run like the rest of the crowd, but something held me in place. I had to help him even though horrific visions of Jaws scenes came to the forefront of my mind. Images of the chewed remains of a body in my hands made my stomach clench. I felt like I was going to be sick. Reaching out, I grabbed hold of his feet, and jerked back as hard as I could.
“Hey!” Chance slurred and pulled his earbuds out.
“What the hell, Chance?” I dropped his feet.
“What up, Evester…you coming to hang with me?”
“No!” I yelled, torn between relief he was alive and irritation he seemed so oblivious. “I’m not coming to hang with you!” My face turned five shades of red.
“Why not?” he asked obviously confused.
“Good lord, Chance—I thought something had you.”
“What are you talking about?” Chance’s eyes widened and he looked at the scene before him. “Where did all the people go?”
“Gee Chance, they ran.”
“Huh…from what?” He ran his hands over the ground, looking for his wayward drink.
Damn, he was slow. “I don’t know,” I answered, not caring to explain. I doubted it would help anyway.
“Huh? Well, you gonna go find out? I’ll come with.”
I shook my head. What was the point? “Sure, that would be great.” I held out my hand to him. He grabbed it and I pulled him up. Swaying on his feet he wrapped his arm over my shoulder. I looked him over to make sure he was in one piece. He looked normal enough, burnt, but normal…at least for Chance. I was just glad he wasn’t shark-bait. Now that would have really sucked.
He fondly squeezed my shoulders. “I’m glad you found me.”
“Yeah, me too Chance, me too.”
‡
“Why are we running?” Moriah panted breathlessly as Kingston jerked her forward up the stairs. She felt like her arm was going to be dislocated at any moment.
Kingston ignored her and pulled her to the terrace and stopped in front of a pair of double glass doors.
“What the hell, Kingston?” Moriah ripped her hand from his.
“Moriah!” He turned towards her. “We have to get inside.”
“Not till you tell me what’s going on.”
He leaned over to catch his breath. “I have no clue, but it’s bad, I can feel it.”
“What?” She gaped at him. He wasn’t making any sense. “I don’t get it. If you don’t have a clue, how do you know it’s bad?”
“Obviously something is wrong,” he panted. “And I wasn’t about to wait around and get trampled by all the drunks out there.”
“Okay,” she said. “Calm down, babe.” His eyes were crazed and he was freaking her out. “Besides, you know how drunks get. Who knows what happened. Maybe someone yelled ‘fire’ or something stupid like that.”
He shook his head and chuckled lightly. “I wish.”
“You wish what?” she asked worriedly.
“Babe, I’ve got this gut feeling that something seriously messed up is about to happen”
“Then why aren’t we getting out of here?”
“Didn’t you see the crowd? They were pouring up the drive in droves. I didn’t want us to get separated or worse…”
“Kingston, you’re scaring me.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach.
“Come here.” Reaching out he pulled her into his arms.
Moriah wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest. His heart was pounding. She pulled back so she could look at his face. She could see he was afraid…but afraid of what?
‡
Colton ran as fast as his feet would carry him. He had picked up speed and flew past Barnaby, leaving him in the dust. Colton was always good at track and field, and that, combined with fear, made him more fleet-of-foot than normal. Fear had a way of doing that. His dad had given him a card once for his birthday. It had a picture of a bear chasing a guy on the front. It was a funny card. It said: you don’t have to outrun the bear, only your friends.
He was doing that now. His dad would be proud. A sob tore from his throat. He didn’t want Barnaby to be bear-bait. He slowed his pace when he hit the side of the mansion, and quickly ducked behind a bush, hiding.
Branches poked his arms and chest. There was a tree with low-hanging branches across from him and he debated whether or not he should try to climb up.
Once Barnaby saw Colton bolt past him, he picked up his pace. He’d be damned if he was the one to become hell-dog food. The slow ones always got it first. At least there were a good number of drunken bodies behind him, too messed up to move fast enough to get away.
Tearing around the side of the mansion in a dead run, he stopped so quickly he almost fell. It was pitch black on this side of the mansion. He ducked behind a bush. Something grabbed him.
“Ahhhhhhhhh…” Barnaby went ballistic and steadily hit whatever was in front of him.
“Man, it’s me.” Colton knocked his hands away.
“Oh shit!” Barnaby dropped his hands. “Sorry man. What the hell was that?”
“Dude, I have no idea. But I’ll tell you this, whatever it was looked worse than CUJO,” Colton said.
“You got that right,” Barnaby agreed. He looked around, not feeling safe at all. “Dude, I don’t think we should stay here.”
“I know, but where should we go? I was thinking about climbing that tree over there.”
Barnaby looked over at the low-hanging limbs and quickly discarded the idea. “No way,” he said.
“Well,” Colton complained. “Do you have a better idea?”
“We should get inside the mansion and lock ourselves in one of the big-ass rooms.”
“Right…” Colton shook his head. “That totally makes sense. Good thinking man.”
Barnaby nodded in agreement. “Is there a window we can crawl in?”
“Yup, I saw one down there. Follow me.” Colton pushed past Barnaby and slid down behind the row of bushes. The branches pulled and scraped at his bare arms. He didn’t care. He only wanted to get i
nside the mansion.
Barnaby grabbed onto his shirt as Colton led the way.
Colton stopped in front of one of the tall windows. The bottom reached the top of his head. “Dude, this is high. How are we gonna get inside?”
Barnaby pushed in front of him. “I’ll tell you how…you’re going to lift me up so I can get inside.”
“What?” Colton gaped. “No way! Why can’t you hold me up?”
“Because your ass is too heavy…”
Colton looked at his body compared to Barnaby’s, suddenly wishing he didn’t work out so much. “Okay fine. Let’s do this.” He reached out and bent forward to scoop Barnaby up in his arms.
Barnaby smacked his hands away. “Not like that. I’m not a girl, man. Put your hands together and give me a foot up.”
“Oh right, that makes sense.” Colton hooked his hands together as Barnaby put his foot in. He hoisted him upward. “Dude, you better not fart.”
“Yeah, right, if I was gonna do that I would have already let one go when that big-ass beast came out of the woods.”
“The way that thing smelled, I thought you did.”
Barnaby laughed suddenly, he couldn’t help it. “I thought you did.”
“I thought I did too.” Colton laughed with him. “You know, we should totally look for some weapons.”
Barnaby pushed against the glass. After a few tries it moved upward.
“Hey, I wonder if there’s some armor in there. If there is we should put it on, like knights,” Colton said.
Barnaby shook his head. “Dude, I am not into playing dress up with you.”
“Screw you, Barnaby. I was just saying—in case…you know, that nasty Mo-foe tried to bite our asses we would be covered.”
“And stuck—that shit is heavy,” Barnaby said.
“I don’t care what you do,” Colton said. “I am getting some armor. You do what you want.”
Barnaby was going to argue, but thought better of it. “Yeah man, totally put some armor on.”
“Right, I will,” Colton muttered into his backside.
“Good, you do that,” Barnaby called over his shoulder. Something grabbed hold of him and yanked him inside.
Barnaby screamed.
40-TWISTED
The beast lunged forward. Adriane willed his body to alter. It rippled and shuddered but he couldn’t make the transition.
The beast flew past, the massive jaw snapping as it went by. He ducked just in time. It sprang back up, snarling, lunging at him fully. This time he blocked it with his body, absorbing the impact and slammed it to the ground.
It stood, swinging its massive head back and forth. Yellow eyes bore down on him and lips curled back, revealing razor-sharp teeth. It lunged forward again…
Simon emerged from the tree line.
Adriane lost concentration for a moment and the beast hit him full-on, knocking him backward. Grabbing what was left of the fur, he pushed it away from his body. Black blood seeped from the sores and coated his hand. His palms burned. Pressing his mind, he tried to alter again, but he merely pulsed beneath the surface. His powers were failing him once again.
His strength was waning. His breath now came out in ragged gasps as he fought to stay in one piece.
“Simon…”
The beast thrashed wildly against him, the massive jaw snapped right by his head.
“Alter if he is too much for you,” Simon called from the sidelines.
“I can’t!” Adriane rolled to the side, barely missing another deadly snap.
“What?” Simon lifted his hand to his ear. “Sorry, can’t hear you buddy.” Served him right, he thought.
Anger filled Adriane. His body pulsed and his skin rippled just beneath the surface. The awful stench of rot and excrement assailed him. His body was covered in the slick wet ooze from the seeping sores of the beast. Jerking to the side, he just missed getting part of his face bitten off as he wrestled the vile creature further to the ground. He was growing weaker. “I’m going to kill you Simon, if I make it out of this alive,” he warned.
Not that he would. At this rate he was going to be Degarè dog chow. He knew something was wrong earlier but he still thought he’d be able to alter if he needed to, but now he knew differently. It was his just-reward, he thought despondently as he fought to stave off the beast. He began to recall fear, an emotion he had not felt in a very long time, and he did not welcome it now. Fear sucked but he used it to avoid being eaten alive.
Simon paid Adriane little heed. He sniffed his shirt and made a face. Walking over to the drink table, he pulled his t-shirt over his head. A long silver tub was beside the table on the ground, filled with ice and water. Empty red cups bobbed in the top as well as some plastic bottles. He glanced over at Adriane, noting he was still in once piece. Then he leaned down, shoved his arms into the frigid water, and splashed his chest. Once he was satisfied the smell was gone he lifted his shirt back up. He sniffed his shirt and made a face.
“He’s losing it,” Alistair commented and pulled his shirt over his head. He leaned forward and scooped up handfuls of water to clean his chest and arms off. Once the sticky residue was gone, he turned back to Adriane, noting that in another time he would have decimated that very same beast in no time at all. They were mere foreplay to what was coming. But apparently, times had changed.
Simon picked up two bottles wondering which would work better, the Everclear or Captain Morgan’s Silver spiced rum.
“Simon what are you doing?” Alistair asked.
“Trying to decide which one of these will get the stink off my shirt.”
Alistair eyed the bottles. “Why don’t you smell them?”
“Huh? Hadn’t thought about that,” he said and lifted up the bottle of Everclear, unscrewed the lid, and took a sniff. He pulled his face back, wrinkling his nose. Not very appealing but it would do the trick. It was definitely better than the alternative.
Alistair draped his own shirt over the silver barrel with the black hose hanging down the side. He lifted the other bottle, removed the cap, and took a sniff. It wasn’t an unpleasant odor. “This one smells decent,” he said and handed the bottle out to Simon.
Simon grabbed it and took a sniff. “Oh, yeah…” he agreed. “This’ll do the trick.” He glanced over to Adriane. “Oh, Snap!” Simon heckled and dumped rum over his shirt. “There you go, show him whose boss.”
Adriane twisted the creature’s neck back and forth.
Alistair hit Simon in the arm.
“Ow.” Simon rubbed his sore arm. “What’d you do that for?”
“Enough!” Alistair said, a fierce protectiveness emerging.
“He deserves it after the shit he pulled with you earlier,” Simon argued.
“That’s my battle to fight,” Alistair said. “Not yours.”
“Excuse me for trying to help a brother out.”
“I am not your brother, any more than you are mine.” Alistair sighed. “Listen, we are in this together whether we like it or not.”
“Yeah, yeah—I know,” Simon, replied dejectedly. “You want me to help him?”
“No. Let’s see what he is made of?” Alistair kept a watchful eye on Adriane…just in case and dumped the rum over his shirt.
Simon dipped his shirt back into the water and wrung it out. He looked around. The place had emptied out rather quickly.
Alastair looked around. The place was deserted. He was having a good time, too. The girl, whoever she was, made him forget, even if it was merely for a moment.
“I wonder what made them all run.” Simon waved his shirt.
“I’m not sure,” Alistair said and he wasn’t. He and Simon had run to fight the beasts but they were far enough away not to bring attention to themselves. One beast slipped by, which is why Adriane was battling one now. Seriously, why should he and Simon get stuck doing all the dirty work. They were a team. Each of them held their own separate expertise. There should be no leader. They were equals and if Adriane
hadn’t come to that conclusion on his own before, he certainly would now. Alistair let out a heavy sigh and turned his attention back to Adriane as he finally finished the beast off.
Adriane stood up and kicked the beast once more for good measure. Rocks flew upward into the air and fell heavily back to the ground.
The act brought a smile to Alistair’s normally stoic face. That was the only good thing about Degarè hell dogs. After they were gone, they turned back to what they once were…stone. Alistair wondered if the same would happen to them if they were the ones defeated. Well one thing was certain, he would find that out soon enough.
41-INDECISION
Barnaby fought with all he had as he swung his fists and kicked his feet.
“Man, stop kicking me,” Chance yelled. “I’m trying to help you.”
The voice finally registered in Barnaby’s terrified mind and he quit fighting. “Chance…is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Chance rubbed his stomach.
“Oh, thank God, man.” Barnaby stood up. “What are you doing in here?”
“We’re hiding out,” Chance answered.
“Who’s hiding?” Barnaby bent over and ran his hands over the floor to look for his glasses.
“Evie and me,” Chance said.
“Where is she?” Barnaby found his glasses and put them on.
“Hey, Barnaby,” I called to him as I felt my way across the dark room.
“Did you see it too?” Barnaby asked.
“See what?” I stopped when I finally made it across the room.
“The hell-dog or whatever it was?”
I froze. Tighty-whitey wasn’t tripping…shit.
“What dog?” Chance asked, confused.
“You guys didn’t see it?” Barnaby asked, surprised.
“Nah man,” Chance said. “Evie got me from under the stage and we came in here. Everyone’s gone.”
“Where did you see it?” Was that why Adriane had told me to run, and if so, where was he now? Was he all right or did something happen to him? I started to freak all over again and had to squash it down. He was fine. He had to be fine.
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