Sadie shivered. He was dreaming. It was the meatloaf, or he was imagining it. Things like this didn’t live in Sammy’s world of pitch-and-hit.
The steady clip-clop sounded from the street.
Dark fingers moved over his scalp. His palms peeled off the window, and he was suddenly dizzy with nausea and fear. Sadie shook his head, trying to regain his equilibrium. Another shadow hovered behind him, darkening the room.
Sadie grabbed the edge of the windowpane. When he looked, the figure turned, seeing him through the window, and smiled.
Feel my pain.
Was it smiling even wider? Was that even possible?
A throaty chuckle echoed in Sadie’s brain.
The air grew thicker, heavier, making it hard to breathe. A hand touched the back of his head, as though pushing him to the floor.
Know my horror.
Sadie reeled. He was feverish. It was reaching out, through the window, and into his heart, into…
My soul, he thought.
He tried to will it away, but the hand squeezed tighter.
Trying to beat the phantom, Sadie grabbed the curtain, and pulled it across the window, cutting it from his sight. He turned and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to catch his breath. He trembled, feverish.
What happened to that perfect day? Why did he feel as though he belonged to some eternal graveyard, a city for the dead?
But at least the creature was out of sight.
Sadie opened his eyes and stood up, trying to catch his breath. When the feeling passed, he opened the door to his bedroom, and walked down the hall. His dad was in the living room sitting in the recliner and reading the newspaper. The television was on. Sadie looked out the living room window and down the street.
The day was suddenly as it had been before: bright blue sky, white clouds, no wind. The figure had disappeared. Maggie was gone as well, the beach ball abandoned on the grass. Had it taken her? Why hadn’t Sadie heard her screaming?
“What’s up, sport?” Austin said, looking at him over the paper.
“Nothing,” Sadie answered, scanning the street.
“Son,” Austin said, frowning. “Are you okay? You look kinda pale.”
“Thought I saw someone from school,” Sadie said, not meeting his dad’s eyes. “But…I guess not.” Sadie turned, forcing a fake, winning smile, and hurried back down the hall to his bedroom. He shut the door. What was he feeling so guilty about?
He turned to the window again. Despite the closed curtains, darkness moved in. Pinpricks of light went on and off in front of his eyes. Was the figure in the room, hiding in the shadows?
An image of his own dead body came to life in his mind. He was lying in a field, black spiders climbing over his arms and legs, while a monster chewed through the meat of his neck.
Dad? Mom? Can you hear me? Can you see?
The figure was standing in the room, towering over him.
Another wave of darkness swam before his eyes. He tried to scream, but the blackness turned cold, clogging his throat.
He was different now, somehow, someway. A vital chunk of his youth had been taken from him, as though some giant hand reached inside him and plucked out his soul.
Demons can be anything. Show us the right amount of love, Sadie, and you, too, will be rewarded with immortality.
The room was freezing cold suddenly. Sadie grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around him, shivering.
Was this what being dead felt like?
Nausea swam over him. Just as quickly, he threw the blankets off, rocketed off the bed, and opened the door. He bolted to the bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet. Meatloaf erupted from his belly, splashing the white porcelain.
In seconds, his mother was there, bending over him, her arm around his shoulders. She was talking, but Sadie couldn’t make out the words. His father was standing in the doorway as well. If anything, it was a good excuse to abstain from Mom’s meatloaf.
“Honey, are you all right?” his mother asked.
He was dizzy, his throat raw, acidic with the taste of vomit. His hands and face were cold, wet clay. He leaned back, but the smell of vomit made him want to hurl again.
“I’m fine,” he lied.
“Probably the meatloaf,” Austin said. “Maybe he got a raw chunk.”
Sadie didn’t hear this. A hand made of bones clutched his throat. He sat up, leaned over, and threw up again.
An entity appeared in his mind, its face that of a diabolical, flaming dragon.
CHAPTER II
The meadow was like another world. Tall mountain brome filled the scope of Seth’s vision for as far as he could see. It could grow as high as 40 inches during the summer, virtually hiding him from his own backyard. But to Seth Auburn, it was simply grass.
Every year, Hailey Patterson, the town drunk, revved his clunky red tractor to life and mowed down the mountain brome because of fire hazards. He was paid by the city. Local vandals had torched the meadow in years past, burning vast acres of land. Seth remembered the planes flying in to extinguish the flames. Now, in August, the grass was as high as Seth’s waist. Hailey would be revving the clunky red tractor to life again soon.
But Seth wasn’t thinking about town ordinances, past fires, or Hailey Patterson. He was thinking about the meadow and how beautiful it was. He could open the chain-link fence from his backyard, take a single step, and be practically standing in the middle of it.
Beyond the meadow, the land slowly rose into foothills, hogbacks, and eventually, the vast Rocky Mountains. Seth thought the entire world could see the Rocky Mountains. They were like a fortress, a massive wall of impenetrable rock. The crags weren’t just mountains to Seth; they were another world…much like the meadow. Mountains did not loom as these did. Mountains did not whisper, beckon, and creep toward him with such volition and girth. The crags beyond his backyard brimmed with mystery, told tales of Vikings and kings. In the Rockies, marauders besieged palaces, and castles were conquered. Seth didn’t know how he knew this, but he did.
They’re secretive hills, Seth Auburn thought, and smiled to himself.
He shaped his own battles with the Cat Fighter Attack Plane, zooming it above the high grass now. Cat Fighter Attack Planes didn’t exist, either, as far as he knew. He’d christened the jet himself.
The mountains made him lose interest in playing with his toys, however, and tugged at his heart. They were bigger, more impressive. They called his name:
Seth?
Two red eyes peered at him from the over the mountains like the dark brows of a gargantuan monster. The rocks smiled, as though waiting to devour him, the meadow, and everything in it. Why else did they loom toward him as they did?
That’s all in your head, he thought.
They were protectors, sentinels, guarding him, the meadow, and everything in it.
Majesty, he thought. Dreams only the chivalrous can conquer. Guardian, protector, watcher, silent sentinel. Thank you for your wonder. You have given me dreams to play by.
The thought came from somewhere else. Like his name being called, it simply dropped into his head.
Seth thought of the mountains in two extremes: forces of good and evil, entities warring for dominion, and they were using the meadow as their battlefield.
The day was cloudless, bright blue. The hint of a warm, August breeze was in the air. The grass swayed back and forth.
Time and space, Seth thought, gazing at the peaks in the distance.
He was a small boy for his age with blond hair, green eyes, and full red lips. Brown freckles spotted a small, patrician nose. Red lashes marked his shins when he sometimes bolted into a run, the grass whipping at his legs, as he tried to make the Cat Fighter fly faster than its normal Mach 2. Seth made sound effects with his mouth, spittle flying from his lips.
He liked to pretend he was a Green Beret, or Wolverine from the X-Men. Kirk Demitra and Tommy Gallagan had moved out of Ellishome the month before. Losing his only two friends had been hard, and now he s
pent most of his time in the meadow by himself.
The Cat Fighter Attack Plane wasn’t as interesting suddenly, as much as he tried to pretend. Maybe he needed a new plane, one he could pilot himself. After all, he couldn’t stay a kid forever.
Yes, you can, he thought. You can stay a kid for as long as you want.
The voice spoke again:
Just because your face looks older doesn’t mean your heart has to follow.
What was happening today? Something else spoke besides the meadow. The hills, perhaps?
Seth zoomed the plane above the tall grass, despite the war in his mind. He had a wicked desire to set it on fire suddenly, watching black smoke billowing into the air.
There are no such things as Viking warriors, not anymore. No more endless battles upon the sea, except in today’s wars. Grow up and quit dreaming all the time. It’s nothing but Utah, Nevada, and California on the other side of those hills.
He shook his head and frowned, not wanting to believe it. Another voice, however, one battling for his wonder—telling him never to grow up—spoke as well. A whisper, barely audible, issued between his ears:
It is you…
He was the mountains. Inside, dreams as big as glaciers came to life. The world recognized him and adjusted according to his purity. The peaks had chiseled his heart from stone. He could transform himself, move the crags according to his will. He was the burying clouds, the crisp blue of the sky. When he looked at the world beyond the meadow, the meadow itself, Seth Auburn knew (somehow in his youth) that he was looking at himself.
A shift took place inside. It moved like the mountain brome, swaying back and forth.
Still, something was trying to communicate with him…
A warm breeze blew. Clouds moved in, rolling east over the mountains and covered the sun. His shadow disappeared.
The voice had come from everywhere: the mountains, sun, clouds, grass, dirt, rivers, and trees. Something was in the meadow with him…
But suddenly, the voice turned silent.
He wished it could stay summer forever and never have to go back to school again. He wasn’t a very good student, and it was troublesome when his imagination overrode his attention all the time. No wonder his mom grew frustrated with his grades. He seemed to trudge through every year with the same disinterest. Seth knew he’d never be a rocket scientist or own a football team.
Yes, if only it could stay summer forever…
What he dreamed was more real than the world outside.
And with that thought, the voice returned:
Maybe if you paid more attention, you’d get better grades. You can put that imagination on hold for a minute or two, you know? You’re the one who lets it have dominion over your mind. You can’t make a living dreaming all the time.
Seth didn’t recognize the voice, but he could hear it clearly. It wasn’t just a thought. The meadow spoke a language of its own, even as a whisper—
A child’s word—
It wasn’t human, whatever it was.
Supper would be ready soon. It was close to five o’clock, and Seth’s stomach growled.
The clouds parted, the sun peeking through, lighting the meadow again. Peace warmed his heart, and his brows came together, puzzled. No, this wasn’t an evil ruse, but a strange element of magic coming to life right here in the meadow. It wanted to befriend him.
Seth dropped the Cat Fighter to the ground and turned his ear to something from another world. He studied his surroundings. A presence lingered nearby. He could feel it, something wild…
Blond hair fell into his eyes. The grass stirred.
Don’t run. I’m not a stranger…
A picture came to life in his brain, and he saw it for what it was, smelled it, the same odor at the Denver Zoo when his mother had taken he and his sister two years ago.
But that couldn’t be…nothing like that lived out here. Nothing like that lived in this…country.
Fear clutched his heart suddenly. Animals of that sort were always hungry! They ate meat, mainly the flesh of little boys! Nothing was trying to befriend him. It was trying to deceive him, make him linger long enough in the meadow to pounce on his tiny arms and legs.
He was dinner! After all, it was five o’clock…
Please, Seth. Don’t run…
His eyes grew wide in confusion.
Don’t run…
But he did. He ran fast, the tall grass whipping at his shins. He’d get the Cat Fighter later when it was safer. The crags swelled to life behind him, looming closer.
But it wasn’t the crags…it was something else…
He’d never reach the safety of the chain-link fence in time, the yard…
His house came into view. Flaking chips of white paint made the one-story structure look scabrous; the lawn needed mowing. He’d steered farther from the house than he’d thought…the view his mother had of him from the kitchen window. She’d ground him for sure! But that was better than being eaten alive.
His breath labored between his ears, and Seth looked behind him. All he saw was the grass, the mountains in the distance, clouds moving across the sky.
The meadow stirred, and for a split-second, he saw—
Something leapt out of view, a tail whipping into and out of sight behind the mountain brome.
Seth ran through the gate and into his backyard. He looked behind him, but it was only the grass, clouds merging to cover the sun…
I’m not a stranger.
Seth hurried up the porch steps, through the back door, and into the kitchen. His mother stood staring at him as the screen door banged shut.
ii
“Something wrong?”
Seth looked at his mother, feeling guilty for reasons he couldn’t explain.
Samantha Auburn had spent a lot of the time in the garden over the summer. Because of it, she’d developed a deep, bronzed tan. She stood by the sink wearing white shorts and a green tank top, her face beaded with sweat from the heat of the stove. Blonde hair in a ponytail, she looked curiously at her son.
Seth felt like he’d committed a crime, heart still hammering.
“Huh?”
“Something wrong?” his mother asked.
Yes, Mom. I think an animal was chasing me. I think it wanted to eat me. But it’s gone now. Aren’t you glad? I know I am.
“No,” he said. “Just…” He felt stupid. “…playing around.”
She smiled.
“What’s for dinner, Mom?”
“Tuna casserole. Sound good?”
“Sure.”
Seth walked out of the kitchen as casually as he could, down the hall, and toward his bedroom. He shut the door. He didn’t know why he felt so guilty; he hadn’t done anything wrong. Was it just his imagination? But whatever was in the meadow had wanted to claim him, it seemed. Something had wanted to do him harm.
Maybe it was a werewolf, he thought, and managed to smile.
In his cluttered, toy-filled room, Seth stepped over to the window, staring over the backyard, and into the meadow. The threat was still present. Nothing called to him, though, wanting him to play, to reconcile his innocence for slaughter.
The thought made him feel threatened again. A hand gripped his neck and squeezed. Seth gasped for air. Just as quickly, the feeling passed.
The bedroom door opened. Masie stood in the doorway, tall and lithe, tan, like his mother. She’d inherited the darker characteristics of their father, Daniel Jeffries Auburn: brown hair and brown eyes.
One night, after a violent, verbal war with their mother, Daniel Jeffries had taken the car out for a drive and never come home. Because of his reckless drinking, none of them missed him, and after years of turbulent episodes and uncomfortable tension, some peace had returned to the Auburn house.
Masie wore a pink, puffy-sleeved shirt. A teddy bear on the front held a rainbow-colored lollypop. The shirt looked too elementary for Masie, but it was one of her favorites. Dark blue shorts revealed long, sle
nder legs. Her feet were bare.
“Hey, squirt,” Masie said, scanning the floor. “Man, this room is a dump.”
“Hey, Mase.”
She nudged several toys out of the way with her feet, making her way to the window. “Daydreaming again?” she asked, following his stare.
“What else?”
“What a life,” she said. “Is that all you do? Nothing and daydream?”
“Pretty much,” he said. “Sometimes, I pretend I’m looking for lost treasure.”
“Is that so?”
“Sure.”
“Wait ’til your older,” Masie said. “No more treasure. All the good things slip away. I can already see it happening. How’s that for a daily lesson in life?”
“I think I’ll wait for tomorrow’s lesson,” Seth said
Masie gently pushed Seth’s nose with her finger. “Honk if you love your big sister.”
“Meep-meep!” he said.
Masie giggled, sounding immature. “I’m a sap, tiger, I know.” Masie gazed out the window toward the meadow. “What is it out there that likes you so much?”
Seth thought about how strange her wording was and furrowed his brows.
Don’t run. I’m not a stranger.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s a cool place to take over the world, I guess.”
“You need to make some more friends,” she said. “Maybe this year, huh?”
Seth was quiet.
“I sound worse than Mom, don’t I?” Masie asked.
Seth forced a laugh, snatching a glance out the window again.
“Sorry, champ,” she said. “I have a proposal, actually. Jeanie and Rheanna are coming over tonight. We thought we’d cruise around a bit, seems how there’s nothing much to do in this po-dunk town. Jeanie asked if the adorable, Seth Auburn, could take time out of his galactic battles to join us. Whattaya think?” Masie raised her eyebrows, knowing his reaction, and she was right.
Seth blushed and looked at his shoes.
“Looks like a yes to me,” she said.
“Is Mom okay with me going?”
“I’ll bind and gag her if she opposes.”
Seth raised his eyebrows.
Snapdragon Book I: My Enemy Page 2
