“Wait, I’ll help you. I know how to do it.” Maria rushed out of the booth to Pete and pushed the trap closer to his hand so that it would eventually loosen. “I’m sorry you’re so upset.”
“Yeah, right! Just get it off already,” he said, barely holding it together.
“I’m trying, okay? It’s stuck for some reason. Hold on.” She ran back around the booth to grab something.
It wasn’t just stuck, it was squeezing tighter and tighter. His hand started to throb with pain. Not again, was all he could think.
“Hey,” the kid in the box whined. “Don’t cut it. Then we can’t use it anymore.”
Maria came back with scissors. “I have to, it’s not coming loose.” She cut from the open end of the trap until she finally freed his hand.
By the time she got it off, Pete’s skin looked completely purple and felt completely numb. He opened and closed his grip to get the circulation going again.
Maria’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, Pete! I’m so sorry! I can’t believe this happened. It’s a freak—”
“Don’t say it,” he cut her off. “You just shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have tried to trick me. I thought we were cool.”
“We are …” When her cheeks reddened and she bowed her head, Pete’s throat tightened. “I said sorry, Pete.”
“Look, whatever. No big deal. I gotta go.” Then, before she could say anything else, he stormed off, trying to calm his nerves as he rubbed his hand. What a stupid joke. How was that even funny? And it was another freak thing. He swallowed hard as his throat squeezed even more. He couldn’t take any more accidents. He just couldn’t or he’d lose his mind.
A rush of kids suddenly surrounded him like a herd of cattle, shoving him through the doorway of a mirror maze as they ran inside.
“Hey, watch out,” he yelled. He tried to get out of the pack but there were too many of them. He just pressed against the wall as they finally passed by, laughing and screaming.
“Dude, look, there’s like twenty of us in the mirrors!” someone called out as they disappeared.
Pete tried to get back out through the entrance, but somehow he found himself lost in the freaking mirror maze. He walked in the opposite direction to get directly to the exit. Instead, though, he came to a dead end, and a pirate appeared in the mirror, with a hat slanted to cover his face and a lethal hook attached to his arm. When he finally moved the hat, Pete could see that the pirate had the face of a fox. Pete flinched. He looked behind him, thinking the fox pirate would be standing there, but there was only another mirror.
His heartbeat picked up speed and his brain emptied of every thought but one: Have to get out of here. He turned and turned down narrow corridors, fleeing for the exit. Images of the fox pirate and himself were reflected in every mirror. When he ran, the fox ran. Sweat dripped down Pete’s face. All he knew was that he couldn’t let the fox pirate catch him.
He was breathing hard when he finally saw a light at the end of a small mirrored corridor. But before he could get there, the fox pirate jumped in front of him, raising his hook.
As if by instinct, Pete reared back and punched the fox pirate in the nose.
Then the pirate stumbled back, a hand to his mask, as Pete rushed out.
Pete was practically hyperventilating as he stepped back into the carnival. He was unsteady and off balance, as if he’d just come off a carousel. Kids laughed and stared as questions circled around and around in his mind. Where do I go? What do I do? He stepped backward and collided with someone. He whirled around to see a clown with a pirate hat. The clown waved, but Pete shoved him and ran toward a tent, pushing through the flaps of the heavy canvas. He needed to get out of the carnival but he was so mixed up he didn’t know where he was going. He found himself rushing into a booth with several balloons pinned to a wall.
A dart came at him and scraped his cheek. He hit the next one away with his hand.
Someone yelled “Hey, there’s a kid there!”
Pete himself sprang forward to tell them to stop, but it was too late. That was when the last dart hit home—sticking into the skin beside his inner eye.
He yelped in pain.
Kids gasped. Someone screamed.
Pete reached up slowly and pulled the dart out. A trickle of blood dribbled down his face. He threw the dart down and sprinted out the other end of the tent, panicking. He ran into another tent. Exotic birds were caged inside, tweeting and squawking.
A parrot shrieked: “Lose an eye! Lose an arm!”
Pete halted and whirled toward the bird. His body was shaking. “What did you say?”
“Squawk! Squawk!” The bird was bright green with a black beak. It flapped its wings at Pete. “Squawk!”
Pete grabbed the cage and shook it. Feathers scattered. All the birds in the tent started to go crazy. “What did you say, you, stupid bird? Foxy, are you in there?” No, it didn’t make any sense for Foxy to be inside the bird, but Pete didn’t care. Since when did any of this make sense at all? Whatever was happening to him was still happening to him and he’d had enough. “You’re not going to win! You hear me? You. Are. Not. Going. To. Win.”
“Hey, kid, take it easy!” Someone grabbed Pete’s shoulder and turned him around. “What’s the matter with you?”
Pete pulled away from the man, a teacher at the school. Mr. Berk or something like that. “Nothing’s the matter.” Pete wiped the sweat from his forehead and blood from his cheek. “Nothing.”
Nothing except for a chain of freak accidents that involved losing an eye or an arm. Nothing except for a robotic fox that wanted him to become a pirate—or dead—whichever came first. Chuck had to be right. He had to get back to face Foxy to finish this once and for all.
Mr. Berk reached out a hand. “You don’t look too good. You’re bleeding from your eye. Let’s go to the nurse to get you checked out.”
Pete pulled away. “No! I’m fine!” he insisted.
“All right, take it easy. What happened to your cheek?”
“Too much has happened to me.” Pete just shook his head. “Too much.” How could he begin to explain?
“I just want to help,” Mr. Berk said. “What’s your name?”
“No, you can’t help me. No one can. He’s after me and he’s never going to stop. I believe him now, I thought I could fix it all by apologizing.” Pete laughed bitterly. “Yeah, funny, huh? Like ‘sorry’ ever fixes anything. But I had to try, right?”
“Who’s after you, kid? What’s his name? We can sit down with the principal. Get this all sorted out. You just have to calm down, take a deep breath.”
“You don’t understand! There’s no sitting down or talking! He’s a freaking robot!”
Mr. Berk’s eyes widened. “A robot? Help me to understand. Let’s just sit down a moment. You can talk to me, okay? Sometimes we think things are worse than they really are. But once we stop and look at the whole picture, it’s not that bad at all. Believe me, kid. Happens all the time.”
“No, it’s bad. Really bad. But I know what I have to do now. It’ll all be over soon. I have to go back to the point of origin, where it all began. I have to face the villain.” Before the teacher could stop him, Pete slipped away.
He booked it down the school hallway, drenched in sweat. A hall monitor yelled for him but Pete ignored what he was saying. Had to get out. Had to end this. When he shoved open the doors, looking back over his shoulder, the hall monitor was talking into his radio. Pete missed a step and fell, stumbling down the school’s front steps. His knees and palms were scraped, and his body felt bruised, but he pushed himself to his feet to keep running.
As he raced across the school’s lawn, he dug out his phone and clicked on Chuck’s number. It went straight to voice mail because Chuck was still in class.
“Chuck!” Pete heaved into the phone, short of breath. “You were right! It’s been Foxy all along. I have to go back to face him! Freaky stuff is still happening, but no way is Foxy going to wi
n, Chuck. No freaking way! I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, little bro! Meet me there as soon as you can! We can finish this together!”
In a blind panic, Pete rushed off the sidewalk and into the street. He sensed something speeding toward him and he turned—that’s when a truck smashed into him with extreme force. His body went flying, his limbs twisting, and one moment felt like forever. Then he crashed, his body slamming the hard ground. He felt a crack, then a shatter. The force scalded his skin against the road as he rolled and rolled, leaving a path of blood behind him. Pain was everywhere, then everything went dark.
“Chuck! You were right! It’s been Foxy all along. I have to go back to face him! Freaky stuff is still happening, but no way is Foxy going to win, Chuck. No freaking way! I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, little bro! Meet me there as soon as you can! We can finish this together!”
Chuck clicked off his phone, looked over his shoulder, and nimbly hopped his middle school’s fence. Then he ran.
He had to get to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. He had to help Pete!
He pumped his arms hard and fast to get out of sight of the school. When he felt safely out of view, he pulled out his inhaler, took two puffs, and walked till he caught his breath. He still had a few miles to go. He wished he had his bike, but he didn’t, and he wouldn’t let Pete down. He wouldn’t let him face Foxy alone.
He started to run again, but that didn’t last long. He wasn’t much of an athlete. Chuck could run but it was usually short distances—he always did poorly in the timed mile in gym class. He glanced around, and stiffened up when he saw a police car. Oh no! He ducked into a donut shop and waited for the cruiser to drive by. He wasn’t used to breaking the rules and ditching school. This was the first time he’d done something like this. What would happen if Mom found out? Would she ground him? Pete would probably laugh at him for being so scared. But that was okay, Pete could laugh at him all he wanted once this was all over.
He was out of breath when he got to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, and his shirt was stuck to his back with sweat. He pushed through the front doors and felt relief when the cool conditioned air hit his face. Little kids were running around as he made his way to the corridor that led to the maintenance room. There was some sort of manager standing in front of the walkway. Dang it. Chuck bounced on his feet, waiting for the guy to walk away. He pretended to play an arcade game until the guy finally moved along.
Chuck walked slowly to the doorway, slipped through, and raced down the corridor until he got to the door. It swung open to reveal absolute darkness. Chuck swallowed hard as he stepped inside and the door slammed behind him. Fear nearly swallowed him whole, but he grabbed his phone from his pocket to turn on a light.
“Hiccup.”
He smacked a hand to his mouth to try and stop the dumb hiccups. He flashed the phone light to the left and to the right. No freaky ghosts, no robots. He took out his inhaler and took a quick puff as he continued to look around. Still the same dusty tables with old supply boxes and broken chairs, like the first time they had visited. For some reason, that felt like weeks ago.
“Pete,” he whispered. “Where are you? Hiccup.”
When there was no answer, he wondered if Pete was trying to scare him again. Then he pushed that thought away. Pete had sounded really upset on the voice mail. He’d been physically hurt, and he finally believed Chuck’s theory that it all began with Foxy. They were finally agreeing on something. Now Pete was treating him like a real brother instead of a problem he had to deal with every day.
“Pete. Are you here?”
When he was answered with silence, Chuck dialed his brother’s number. It rang and rang, finally going to voice mail.
“Pete, where are you? Hiccup. I’m here with Foxy, waiting for you. Call me. Or just hurry up and get here. You know this place gives me the creeps. Hiccup. Hiccup.”
Chuck ended the call and stepped forward, aiming the phone light at the small stage. A chill ran through him and he shivered. Instinct told him to move far, far away from the stage. To get out. He couldn’t, though. This wasn’t about his fears. This was about his brother. Swallowing hard, he walked over to the control box. He would find out what happened to Pete that day. He really needed to know if Foxy was somehow haunting his brother. His hand was hovering over the START button when his phone rang and he jumped in the air. “Hiccup—hiccup—hiccup.” He quickly answered. “Pete?”
“No son, it’s Dad. Where are you? I went to school to get you but you weren’t there.”
Chuck was suddenly scared he would get in trouble for ditching. His throat tightened. “Um, I’m sorry, Dad, hiccup, Pete needed me. I had to leave. Hiccup. I won’t ever do it again. I promise.”
“Pete? What do you mean? Did you talk to him?”
“Um, not exactly. He left me a message to meet him. But he’s not here yet. I don’t know where he is. He won’t answer his phone. Hiccup.”
“Oh, son … ,” his voice broke.
“What? What is it, Dad?” A wave of dread washed over him. “Why were you picking me up at school? Hiccup.”
“Chuck … there’s been an accident.”
Dad picked up Chuck at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza and drove faster than normal to Pete’s high school. He didn’t ask any questions about why Chuck was supposed meet Pete there. He said Mom had gone straight to the school when she got the call that Pete had been hit by a truck.
“Let’s keep the ditching school from your mom for the moment,” Dad said. “She doesn’t need any more on her plate right now.”
Chuck felt the guilt like a punch in the gut. “Okay, Dad. You have to understand it was for Pete. I would never do it otherwise.”
“I know, son. Don’t worry too much about it. Brothers look out for each other.”
Chuck nodded. As they drove closer to the high school, Chuck spotted flashing lights. Police cars were blocking the street, and barricades were holding kids far away from the sidewalk.
Chuck swallowed hard. “Pete’s gonna be okay, right, Dad?”
Dad pulled to the side of the road, a block away from the emergency vehicles, and shut off the engine. “He’s going to be fine.” But his voice sounded funny, like his throat was tight. His eyes looked scared and uncertain as if he didn’t believe his own words.
Chuck rushed out of the car with his dad. They headed toward the flashing lights.
A police officer held up his arms. “Sorry, can’t let you through.”
“That’s my son. I need to see him. My wife is here.”
“Name?”
“Dinglewood. My son’s name is Pete Dinglewood. He’s the one who was hit.”
The policeman nodded and let them in. They passed more emergency workers than Chuck could count, and a truck that was pulled to the side, with a huge dent in the front of the bumper. Chuck gasped and hoped that dent didn’t come from hitting Pete. There was a man sitting on the curb, talking to a police officer. He had his hat in his hands, and he was crying.
Chuck glanced toward the middle of the street, and froze when he saw Pete’s shoe lying there. It was a plain white sneaker, making the blood splattered on it horribly noticeable. All he could think was that Pete needed his shoe. Little black numbers on plastic folded cards were scattered around the road, like for an investigation. Chuck swallowed hard and followed his dad until they finally spotted his Mom standing by a gurney. Her back was to them and her shoulders were shaking.
“There’s Mom,” Chuck said, even though he was pretty sure Dad had already seen her. Dad rushed to her side and put his arm around her.
Chuck held back, afraid to see Pete on that gurney. He pulled out his inhaler and took a puff before he got any closer. Behind the barricades, there were some other high school students. Some faces were in shock, some kids were crying, and some kids were in pirate costumes. Pete probably loved that. The thought made Chuck’s lips twitch, but he couldn’t bring himself to smile.
“Chuck,” Dad said, reaching out a hand. “Com
e here, son.” He was crying. He’d never seen his dad cry before.
Chuck didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to walk to the gurney. If he could have, he would have gone in the opposite direction. But he forced a step forward and then another. He felt dazed and in slow motion, as if he was walking through heavy syrup. When he finally reached his dad and mom, he moved between them for support.
Pete was laying on the gurney. His eyes were closed, and he looked incredibly pale. The scratches from the fishing accident stood out like angry red lines on his face, and he had fresh scrapes etched into his forehead. Chuck waited for his eyes to open. Waited for him to move, blink, anything.
“He’s gone, Chuck,” Dad said through tears. His words made Mom cry even harder.
A man in a white uniform shirt walked over to them. “I’m sorry for your loss. We can meet you at the hospital when you are ready.”
Dad said, “Yes, thank you.”
The man was wearing blue gloves. He grabbed the large zipper at Pete’s chest and pulled it up, sealing Pete into a large canvas bag. Just like that, Pete was gone.
Pete felt frozen, like he couldn’t move any part of his body. Strangely, he didn’t feel cold or hot or any pain. He was surrounded by darkness. There were distant voices … sounds of movement …
Hello? Where am I? he wondered.
Weirdly, he couldn’t move his lips.
What the heck?
It seemed like a long time passed. Finally, he heard something like a zipping sound, then a bright light appeared around him. There was a man above him wearing clear goggles, a blue cloth cap, and a face mask covering his nose and mouth. Was he a doctor?
Hey, dude, you got to help me. I feel weird.
Pete figured he must be at the hospital. He’d been hurt by the truck. He remembered. He was trying to get to the pizza place, but he’d forgotten the rule his mom had ingrained in him since he was little. To look both ways before crossing the freaking street. Well, now he’d be fixed with some surgery. Relief flooded over him. He’d get fixed up and then he and Chuck would face Foxy together and then it would all be over. Finally.
Step Closer Page 5
