Without taking his eyes off Xander, Phemus began descend-ing the stairs. The wood under his bare feet creaked in protest. The other man grinned and trailed a step behind.
“Xander!” David said. He tugged his brother’s pants, yank-ing him back—a step, then two, till they were on the porch. Toria stood in the woods, watching them.
Xander frowned at David. His eyes were red.
As David watched, a thick rivulet of blood from a cut above Xander’s eye ran the curve of his brow, skirted the corner of his eye, and ran down his cheek. It would have made a great movie-tough-guy wound.
They looked through the open door. Here in the sun-light, the interior looked dark and gloomy. The sound of the men’s plodding footsteps echoed out to them.
Xander gestured with his head. He whispered, “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER
twenty -nine
WEDNESDAY, 12:20 P.M.
David and Xander descended the porch steps. When they reached Toria in the woods, they turned back.
“Think they’ll come out for us?” David said.
Xander shook his head. “That house is their leash. It’s as far as their master will let them go.”
“Taksidian?” David said. He had heard Taksidian talking to Phemus the other day, when Clayton had chased David through the locker into the house.
“Who else?” Xander said. He still looked ready to rumble.
David thought it would be a short brawl if he and the big guy ever did tangle. He pointed at the blood on Xander’s face. “What happened?”
Xander touched the cut and grimaced. He looked at his fingers. “The ladder,” he said. “When those guys pulled me off, it came down on my head.”
The shadows inside the doorway stirred. Phemus filled the opening. He scowled out at the daylight, caught sight of the kids, and glared at them.
“Are you sure about the leash?” Toria said.
“Yeah,” Xander said. “I’m starting to figure things—”
The brute stepped onto the porch.
Toria grabbed David’s bicep. David gripped Xander’s shirt.
“It’s okay,” Xander said. “That’s it. That’s as far as he’ll come.”
The man lumbered to the porch steps and started down.
Toria gasped.
“Ow, Toria,” David whispered. “Your nails are digging into my skin.”
“Get ready to run,” Xander said.
“Where to?” David said.
“Follow me. I have an idea.”
David nudged Toria. “You hear? Follow Xander. Don’t run off like you did down the stairs.”
“I got scared,” she said.
“No kidding.”
They watched the man reach the dirt at the bottom of the steps. He turned back to his . . . friend was the word that came to David’s mind, but it was a little like thinking of two killer Rottweilers as play-date pals.
“Let’s get out of here,” Xander said, and took off.
David grabbed Toria’s wrist and fell in behind. He looked back over his shoulder to see Phemus swing his arm in a Come on! gesture, but the smaller man backed away and disappeared in the gloom. It took Phemus all of three seconds to spot the kids and start after them.
Xander weaved through the trees and bushes, arcing around the side of the house.
The man’s feet pounded the ground behind them, snapping twigs and ripping through the low bushes and rotting deadfalls the kids had jumped over.
“He’s getting closer,” Toria said.
Xander picked up his pace. He said, “I didn’t think that guy could move so fast.”
“Like you didn’t think he could leave the house,” David said.
“All right, all right.” Xander angled around a thick bush.
“Anything else you think he can’t do,” David said, “so I have a heads-up about what he’s going to do?”
“We’re about to find out,” Xander said.
They broke through a thick patch of bushes and stopped in the clearing. It was an oval-shaped meadow about half the size of a football field. Encircled by trees, the ground here was flat and uniformly covered with lush, green grass. The upper branches of the trees bent inward, hanging over the meadow’s edges. The sky above was blue and streaked with clouds, as though brushed with white paint.
David and Xander had discovered the place on their second day in the house. Here, the air was peculiar, and their voices became squeaky, as though they were auditioning for the part of Mickey Mouse in a movie. They could also run faster and jump higher.
But Dad had shown them the clearing’s real magic: here, they could fly. That was the best word David could think of . What else could you call rising above the ground and moving through the air without wings, wires, or equipment of any kind? But it wasn’t just a question of taking off, the way birds fly. You had to find currents, like air currents, but they weren’t windy. Then you had to step on them, ride them.
Uh-oh, David thought. He whispered, “Xander, Toria can’t do it. Remember?”
Xander had forgotten. He said, “Not at all? Toria?”
She gazed at the grass, shook her head.
“No, no,” Xander said. “That’s okay.” His head snapped up. “Shhh.”
The sound of clomping feet grew louder.
Xander waved the others closer. He said, “Toria, try.” He looked David in the eyes. “David,” he said, “fly.”
CHAPTER
thirty
WEDNESDAY, 12:32 P.M.
David dropped the toy rifle. He held his hands open to the ground as though he were mounting a skateboard. He lifted his foot and felt the air with it. Nothing. He moved deeper into the clearing.
Outside the ring of trees and heavy bushes, something crashed.
David’s heart revved up. If he couldn’t do it . . . if Toria couldn’t . . . there was nowhere to hide. They would have to fight the man, which to David’s perspective was like taking on Godzilla.
He felt the air with his foot again: searching for an invisible platform. He remembered thinking that Dad’s ability to ride the clearing’s currents was like standing on an escalator no one could see. With that image in mind, he raised his foot and tried to stand on the air. His foot stomped the ground. He tried again. No go. He sighed and looked over at Xander.
His brother was hovering four feet over the grass. His feet slipped one way and then the other. He zipped higher. He smiled; David remembered the clearing had a way of making them giddy and carefree. But they didn’t dare laugh now, not with Phemus tromping around so near.
David swung his foot over the grass. Something snagged his ankle. His foot rose. When it reached the height of his chest, his other foot came off the ground as well. He pin-wheeled his arms and fell backward. He closed his eyes and pulled his cast in close to his chest, bracing himself for a crash. The impact never came.
He opened his eyes, turned his head. He was flat on his back, five feet off the ground. Using his stomach muscles, he forced his upper body into a vertical inclination. Now he was sitting—and more than fifteen feet in the air. He was drifting, rising like a balloon. He started moving his arms and legs as he would have in water. He shot forward, arched up, spiraled down.
Xander’s waving caught his attention. His brother touched his finger to his lips and pointed at Toria. She was hopping up and down, stepping on currents that weren’t there and generally throwing a quiet fit. The boys swam to her, converging above her shoulders.
“Toria,” Xander whispered.
She snapped her face up, startled to find her brothers hover-ing directly above her.
“Give us your hands,” David said.
She hesitated.
Xander said, “We won’t drop you.”
The bushes rustled nearby.
Toria raised her arms and closed her eyes.
David gripped her wrist in both of his hands and squeezed.
“Not so hard,” she whispered.
He let up, but on
ly a little. The image of his sister falling four stories tightened his stomach and made him want to clamp down even harder.
Xander got his hands around her wrists. They raised their heads, bringing their feet down, and kicked. Nothing happened. They kicked again and drifted up a few inches. Again—and another few inches.
“We have to do better,” Xander said. “He’ll see us if we take too long.”
David nodded and closed his eyes. He imagined lifting his dad’s barbells. He kicked and kicked, mentally bringing those barbells up from the bottom of a pool. Kick. Kick.
An insect fluttered onto the top of his head. He jerked his head sideways, but it wouldn’t go away.
Better not be a spider, he thought.
“David,” Xander whispered.
“I’m trying.” Their voices were high-pitched, but either because he was so frightened or he was getting used to it, David hardly noticed.
“Open your eyes.”
When he did, leaves hung down around Xander’s head. A branch curled behind him, like the backdrop of a school photograph.
David tilted his head. What he had thought was an insect was the forest’s canopy, leaning over the edge of the meadow. He looked down. Toria dangled between them. And way below her sneakered feet was the ground. It was scary for him, and he could fly.
He told Toria, “Don’t look down.”
Of course she did. She began wiggling around. Her movements jerked David down, up, down, up, like a fishing bobber.
“Toria,” David whispered. “Stop it.”
She whined.
“You’re not making this easy,” he said.
She swung her head back to look at David. Her blue eyes danced in their sockets, reflecting the frightened pace of her heart.
David whispered, “You’ve got Mom’s eyes, you know. So does Xander.”
The randomness of his statement caught her off guard, distracting her from her panic just a little bit. She blinked at him, then adjusted her vision to Xander.
Xander smiled. “Guess we better give them back.”
Her lips didn’t so much as smile as they did not frown.
“Hey,” David whispered, “have you heard this one? Birdie, birdie, in the sky, why’d you do that in my eye? Boy, I’m glad that cows don’t fly.”
Toria started to chuckle, caught herself, and bit her lip. Her feet slowly stopped their midair pedaling.
Below them, Phemus plowed through the bushes and then stumbled into the clearing.
CHAPTER
thirty -one
WEDNESDAY, 12:39 P.M.
Leaves and twigs fell off the big man’s shoulders. He swiveled his head around, clearly surprised to have lost his prey. From their perspective of almost directly above him, the man didn’t look as huge as David knew he was. All he could see were his gleaming dome, planklike shoulders, swinging arms.
Toria took in her brothers’ worried expressions and started to bring her gaze down.
David stopped her. “Hey,” he said, quieter than a whisper. He shook his head. “Don’t.”
“I’ll be all right,” she mouthed, without making a sound.
When she looked, David felt her arm muscles tighten up.
She turned her face back to him. “It’s okay,” David said.
“Dae,” Xander said. “Let’s stay directly over him.”
David nodded. It was the least likely place the guy would look. Even if he glanced up, the chances of his looking straight up were pretty slim.
Especially with that fat neck of his, David thought.
He wasn’t about to release his hand from Toria’s wrist, so the only way to adjust their position in relation to the man below was to wiggle and kick. It reminded David of people in movies who have their feet and arms tied; mimicking a snake or caterpillar, they somehow managed to escape.
The man spotted something. He walked to it and picked it up: the toy rifle.
David and Xander wiggled and kicked until they were once again directly over his head. If they dropped Toria, David thought, she would land right on the guy. No doubt it would hurt Toria a lot more than it would the brute. David closed his eyes and tightened his grip on her wrists.
“Ow,” she whispered. When he peeked, she mouthed, “Not so tight!”
Below her, the man turned in a circle. He examined the toy as though it might tell him where they’d gone. He headed toward the center of the clearing.
The boys kicked and wiggled to stay with him, but he walked too fast. David cast a concerned look at Xander.
Xander stopped wiggling. He whispered, “Toria, grab my wrist. Good. Now grab Dae’s.”
When she did, they were not only holding her, but she was also holding them.
Xander said, “Trust me?”
The concern etched into her features deepened.
No kidding, David thought. That’s like the last thing I’d want to hear in her position.
Still, she nodded.
Xander released his right hand. Toria’s eyes flashed wide, then she realized their mutual grip was strong and she gave him a little smile. Xander nodded at David, who released his left hand from her wrist.
They used their free hands to paddle through the air. They could move much more quickly and accurately. Again, they stopped directly above the man.
Toria kept her eyes turned up. She looked from brother to brother, at the canopy of leaves around their heads . . . anywhere but down. Then she squinted at Xander, a puzzled expression forming on her face. “Xan—”
Something small fell away from him. Toria squeezed her eyes closed. It struck her forehead: a bright red splatter that took the shape of a starburst.
Blood.
The cut above Xander’s brow was oozing again. At the edge of the wound, a droplet swelled like a tiny balloon. David’s eyes grew with it.
Xander realized what had landed on his sister and began swinging his hand around to the cut—too late: another drop-let fell. It missed hitting Toria by less than an inch.
It was so small, by the time it passed her sneakers David had lost sight of it. He held his breath, hoping he had mis-calculated the drop’s trajectory.
But he hadn’t: a small dot appeared on the crown of the man’s head.
Phemus raised his hand and rubbed the spot. Then he examined his palm. He looked straight up and grinned.
CHAPTER
thirty -two
WEDNESDAY, 12:45 P.M.
Staring down at Phemus’s upturned face, Toria screamed.
“Shhh,” Xander said. “He’s down there, we’re up here. He can’t do anything.”
“Well, that means he can,” David said.
“Shhh,” Xander repeated.
Continuing to watch them, Phemus backed away.
“Do we follow him?” David asked.
“No point now,” Xander said.
Phemus bent his right arm way behind his back.
“What’s he—”
“Oh, no,” David said. “Move! Move!” He began kicking and wiggling and paddling with his left hand.
Phemus hurled the toy rifle at them. It spun round and round like a circular saw. David heard it cutting through the air like the blades of a helicopter: whoop-whoop-whoop. It was heading for Toria.
“Pull her, Xander,” David said. “Pull!”
They tugged, raising her between them six inches, twelve inches. The rifle smacked into her ankle. It struck so hard, her legs swung out from under her.
Toria threw her head back and screamed. Her eyes were pinched shut, but her tears found their way out, pooling against her lids and the bridge of her nose. She cried—horrible, wrenching sobs.
David couldn’t stand it, watching his little sister cry in pain, unable to do anything about it. They couldn’t even check her ankle, rub it, do anything to make it feel better.
“Toria,” David said. “I’m sorry.”
He felt as though her pain was his. He had never experienced this so clearly: not when Phemus had
knocked out Dad or when he had sent Xander crashing into the wall while kidnapping Mom or when the lock blew off one of the doors, gouging Dad’s hand.
He said, “We’ll get out of this, Tor. We will.”
She nodded. She straightened her head, so she was looking neither up nor down, and wept quietly. That pulled on David’s heart even more than her wailing agony had done. It was like her spirit hurt.
David focused on Phemus’s movements, and his stomach took a tumble all over again. The big man was approaching the toy rifle. After hitting his sister, it had spun down, landing at the edge of the clearing. Phemus stooped, snatched it up, then squinted at the three King children.
“We have to do something,” David said.
“For one thing,” Xander said, “let’s protect Toria better.”
“How?”
“Pull her up between us,” Xander said. “If she puts her arms around our shoulders, and we reach across her back and under her arms, she’ll be sandwiched between us. We’ll get hit before she does.”
“That’s okay with me,” David said. He tried not to think about what that meant, but images came anyway: the barrel of the gun tearing into his side, the stock cracking into his skull.
“Toria,” Xander said, “we’ll raise you, and you have to climb up our bodies. Get your arms around our shoulders, okay?”
Her eyes followed the path she would take. “But that means letting go of your arms. I can’t do that!”
“Try,” David said. “Toria, you’ll be safer up here with us.”
“Move!” Xander yelled.
David caught a glimpse of the rifle spinning toward them. Both he and Xander threw themselves backward. Whoop-whoop- whoop. The weapon sailed over their arched chests, right where their heads had been seconds earlier. It sliced into the forest’s canopy, then plunged to the meadow.
David and Xander pulled Toria as high as they could. She released her grip on David’s arm and quickly grabbed his shoulder, then did the same with Xander. Their heads were nearly touching, their arms wrapped around each other.
Xander surveyed their surroundings. “How about we—whoa! ”
Whoop-whoop-whoop!
Gatekeepers Page 11
