Anyway, it happened on a Saturday morning. Zach had just polished off at least six gargantuan pancakes, which my mother had said nothing about—as though she wanted to fatten him up—and Zach had gone up to his room. I’d eaten a poached egg and half of a grapefruit, watching my figure and all, and then I’d gone up to my room, opened the door, and found my portfolio… scattered in tiny pieces all over the floor.
Every page ripped. Shredded. Destroyed. Two years of work flushed down the toilet. There was no way to fix it, and no way to describe the pain in my heart when I saw it. Most of the pictures had been stored on my old laptop that had died six months before, so I no longer had them, and in that one moment I’d lost everything.
I fell, shrieking, to my knees, tears of horrified surprise bursting in a torrent from my eyes. I scraped together the pictures, pulling them to me, none of them salvageable. Not one. Who could have done it? Who? There was only one person who hated me enough to destroy my dreams.
Zachary. His name tasted like bile in my mouth.
Racing to his room, I threw open his door, shocked at the force with which it hit the wall. Zach must have been stunned too, because he jerked around in surprise. He’d been sitting at his desk, the guts of his computer exposed, as though he’d been working on it.
“You’re dead!” I sobbed, but it came out more like a croak. Humiliating. Especially in front of him. He sat there, staring, his eyes bulging; his jaw working like there wasn’t anything intelligent going to come out of that mouth.
And then I lost it. Like a tiger pouncing, I launched myself at him, my claws extended. I was going to rip his throat out. He backpedaled in that stupid chair of his, but he wasn’t fast enough. I got to him before he could lumber out of the way. He did manage to shove me back though, and like a rag doll, I fell to the floor, snot running all over my face, mascara-smeared tears streaking my cheeks. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!”
He hopped up, quicker than you’d imagine possible for someone his size, and stood over me. “Lauren, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“My portfolio. It’s ruined. All over my floor!” The heartbreak I felt couldn’t even be described, and I didn’t even care that Zach saw me crying. There was nothing more anyone could do to hurt me at that point.
Zach stood before me, frozen, in what I can only assume was shock. “First of all, I didn’t touch your portfolio. It was probably Dingo. He ruined my science project just last week. And second, you hurt everyone around you, Lauren, and what goes around, comes around.” His eyes were hard, glinting with anger and something else… something I didn’t care to figure out back then.
How could he even think that? I didn’t hurt anyone. I was nice to everyone and believe me, it was super hard to hold my tongue at times. I knew as well as he did that Dingo was locked up in the back yard, and hadn’t done a dang thing to my portfolio. And that was when I noticed it. Tiny red lights dancing on the walls of his room, refracted from… from what? I searched the room and saw it lying on his nightstand by the bed.
A medallion. Gilded, with a giant ruby—like a monster pupil—in the center, staring straight up at the ceiling. And then I knew what I could do to get even for all the pain and heartache my stupid brother had caused. I could snatch that hulking gold necklace and keep it for myself as a consolation prize.
We leaped at the same time, reaching simultaneously, but Zach was a hair closer. Just a hair, and the chain of the medallion rolled, like magic, over his finger. My nails dug into his T-shirt, because I hadn’t lost yet, and I tried to pull him back.
And that was when it happened. That was when this story really began, and our lives changed.
Forever.
In the split second between me grabbing Zach’s shirt and his clenching the medallion in his fist, a light flashed. And I mean blindingly bright. Like lightning. And it filled the room, filled us. I felt the charge, as though I’d stuck my finger into a socket and defibrillated myself. The pain—unbearable for at least five seconds—coursed through me. Then tornado-like winds whipped past my face, blowing my waist-long, gorgeous blonde hair all around us.
And then we were falling.
Fast.
I could barely open my eyes, and Zach’s cheeks were billowing out like a blowfish’s. I would have laughed if I could have. And then the ground appeared. And I mean… it just appeared. Out of nowhere. I kid you not.
It rushed up toward us, my screams following us through the air. And just when I knew it was all over, I threw my arms in front of my face, hoping to protect one part of my body, so I’d at least be identifiable, and hopefully have an open-casket funeral.
But I did not slam into the ground and break into a million pieces. Don’t get me wrong. I hit the ground all right, but I bounced. Like on a trampoline. Trampoline grass. Yeah, you heard me right. I bounced, flying back into the air, my arms flailing wildly as I tried to regain my balance.
Zach, on the other hand, immediately figured it out and actually started jumping, propelling himself into the air on purpose. With each jump he made, it was harder for me to gain my footing.
I managed to crawl to a firmer spot where I sat, stunned, trying to catch my breath. Once Zach stopped bouncing, he opened his hand and, sure enough, that stupid pendant was still there, smoking in his palm. He glanced up at me, his eyes wide and staring. There wasn’t even a burn mark on his skin. As though it were a sacred artifact, requiring reverence, he placed the pendant around his neck and tucked it inside his shirt.
I shook my head. Who cared? Not me. I didn’t want that dumb necklace anymore anyway. I had a feeling it might be responsible for the electric shock I’d experienced. I didn’t want to touch it with a ten-foot pole.
I stood up and brushed myself off, looking around. I had no idea where we were. We certainly weren’t in Kansas anymore. We were in a jungle. Or the woods. Or a combination of the two. Thick-trunked trees were scattered everywhere, moss hanging from their outstretched branches like tired, old women carrying their veils in the still, hot air. Humidity coated my arms and curled my hair around my cheeks. I brushed it back, tucking the sticky strands behind my ears.
“Holy cow!” Zach said, mesmerized at the scene. He turned in a circle, his T-shirt soon soaked with sweat.
“What happened?” I asked. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t. Well, I’m not sticking around. I’m getting out of here.”
Zach turned around in surprise, his arms stretched out, with a frown creasing his brow. “But why? This place is awesome!”
Now, remember, Zach was only fourteen. Anything crazy or otherworldly was fascinating to him, and if he got run over by a Mack truck, he’d think he was on an adventure when he woke up in the hospital.
“Don’t you want to explore first?” he asked, not in any sort of hurry. “These woods are so beautiful, mysterious, and… and magical.”
That was enough for me. I turned and started trudging up the hill. I could tell there was a path of some sort just ahead, and in about five seconds, I would be on it, going home. I had plans for today, and they didn’t include hiking in the woods. I was going to the mall with my friends. And maybe to the movies, too.
The thought had crossed my mind that when I got that terrible electric shock it had knocked me out and, right at this moment, I was really lying unconscious, on Zach’s filthy bedroom floor. Hopefully, our mother would soon find us and call an ambulance.
Until that time though, I had to assume this experience was real, because it sure felt real. It did not feel like I was dreaming. And I should know. I always remembered my dreams. And never once had they been like this. With real sweat or bouncy grass.
I made it to the path, and Zach followed not far behind, mumbling about how awesome this place was, how familiar it felt, how it was a new and exciting adventure, and why the crap had his stupid older sister come along to ruin it?
At this point, I stoppe
d and turned around, looking at him hard in the eyes, so he’d know I was serious. “I’ve just about had it, Zach. Shut the crap up.”
He didn’t even look at me. His eyes were trained down into a verdant valley to my right, where green grass sprawled, surrounded by a thick veil of trees. At the far end was a cave opening. Huge, gorilla-like beasts foraged through the thick brush, looking for food. They were giant Chewbaccas, milling around in assorted colors. Some with thick, reddish-brown fur, some with black, and a couple were snowy-white. The one thing they did have in common was that they were huge.
“What are those?” I asked in disgust. “They don’t look… normal.” And I could smell them from where we stood. Also not normal.
Zach watched them for a moment in openmouthed surprise. “You know, there’s a place I know of… with creatures like that.”
“Oh, really? And where would that be, Einstein?” I couldn’t help it. He was acting so stupid, and it was irritating. I vowed not to say another mean thing, because I didn’t like being rude… okay, so maybe Zach was right. Maybe I was a snob, but everyone knows how stupid little brothers can be…
“There’s this game I play,” he said finally. “And I wouldn’t believe it if I weren’t looking right at them, but… but those things look like… like… hilda beasts… from my game.” He turned to look at me, hesitant, like he knew I’d say something horrid or cruel.
I regarded him, my arms crossed over my chest, doing everything in my power to not say what was on the tip of my tongue. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. There’s no such thing as hilda beasts, and I’d know. I actually study. Unlike some people I know.”
Okay, so it was rude, but I could have said something worse, and like I said earlier, I used to be a snob. I’m not anymore. Just let me finish the dang story.
“Well, I have seen them before while playing my game,” he mumbled, walking away.
I shook my head and stared off into the distance, momentarily hypnotized. “This isn’t your game. This place is real… I think.” And somehow, I knew it was. I wasn’t dreaming. I wasn’t unconscious. No matter how much I would have rather been. Somehow, something was happening to us, and we really were on a new and exciting adventure, but I wasn’t about to admit it at that point. To anyone. Especially Zach.
We resumed our march along the path, and I’m sure Zach wished he could have left me behind with the hilda beasts, because he walked ahead of me, ignoring me. But I watched him as he examined the landscape and the huge flowers that lined the trail. Their seeded faces followed him as he walked, and I kept my eyes on their wide, yellow petals, unable to resist the temptation to reach out and touch one. Slowly, mesmerized, I wanted to feel their velvety softness. Just before I brushed the edge, Zach yelled.
“Stop! Don’t touch anything!” he hissed, running back to grab my hand. “These plants are poisonous. If you get too close, they’ll spit at you, making your skin boil and peel.”
I glanced around apprehensively. “Seriously, Zach? And you know this, how?” He could be right, after all. How would I know? As crazy as this whole situation was, who was to say what was real or not?
“Uh, well, I told you. There’s this game I play online…”
And then it registered. “Online? You mean on the computer? Oh man, you’re in big trouble,” I said with a slow smile.
“Can you stop being a freak for one second?” Zach scowled, turning away. He never could win an argument with me. But I motioned for him to continue with a flip of my hand, and since he couldn’t hold it in, he said in a rush, “Okay, I play this game, online, and in it you have characters, and quests, and stuff like that. This place looks just like it. And those beasts will tear you to pieces if they catch you,” he said, pointing back down the hill to the Chewbacca’s. “Got that?”
“You know, online games are super addictive and will ruin your life.” I knew that firsthand. I had a friend, who just two months ago was admitted to computer game rehab. Yeah. It really exists. Game rehab. Who knew?
“You mean, kinda like modeling, Lauren? Thrown up lately?” He turned to walk away, not seeming to care if I followed.
And that was it. I lost it. I had never thrown up in my life, but his bringing it up, brought back the memory of my ruined portfolio, which in light of what we were going through, I’d forgotten about.
With a howl of rage, I screeched, “You’re the rudest person I know! Do you know that? The rudest! I’ve never thrown up!”
He turned, and I stared him down, my eyes burning into his like hot coals, my hands fisted at my side. I was definitely ready to punch something. Maybe him. He ran to cover my mouth, and I struggled in his grasp, which still tasted like pancake syrup.
“Be quiet!” he growled while glancing over his shoulder. One of the hilda beasts stared up at us with black, slitted eyes, and an icy chill crept up my spine. Both Zach and I froze. The animal lifted its nostrils, sniffing, and took a step forward, grunting and attracting the attention of the herd.
“Oh no,” Zach moaned. “Run!” He grabbed my hand, and we took off down the path, running harder than I ever had before. Zach’s chest heaved, and I could tell he could barely catch his breath, but that was mainly because he was so chubby and out of shape. I, on the other hand, ran beside him without a word of complaint.
I chanced a glance over my shoulder to see half a dozen hilda beasts giving chase, the biggest in the lead with amber fangs dripping saliva. My thighs started to burn like fire, and a cramp stabbed through my side. I wasn’t used to this. I was slender, but I wasn’t on the track team, and I couldn’t leap tall buildings in a single bound. I was going to be a model. I didn’t need muscles. In fact, I wasn’t supposed to have any for that job.
Beside me, Zach doubled over, moaning and stumbling along, and the beasts gained ground.
“Come on, Zach!” My voice sounded shrill.
“I… can’t,” he rasped, slowing again.
And then I stopped, too. Abruptly. Zach crashed into me, pushing me forward a few steps. Not five feet in front of us stood a hilda beast of massive proportions, its beady eyes boring into ours. Spittle flew from its canines as it threw back its head and roared.
We stood frozen until I grabbed Zach’s arm, dragging him off the path and down the other side of the hill, where it looked much safer. At least for now. There weren’t any beasts down there that I could see.
Zach protested, yanking on his arm. “We should… probably… stay on the path.” His breath puffed out in short and obviously painful bursts. “It’s not safe… to get off!”
“I don’t think it’s safe on the path!” I hollered over my shoulder. He was at least three steps behind me when we crashed through the thick foliage, our feet sinking into the spongy soil, and one of my shoes almost ripped off. I managed to pull free at the last second.
Just as we were about to vault over a log, Zach was jerked back into the air, the powerful claws of a snowy-white hilda beast holding him aloft. Zach hung helplessly, choking and clutching his throat. The beast’s jaws stretched wide. Putrid air erupted from its open maw—and yeah, I was close enough to smell it—its jagged teeth gnashed as it pulled my brother in for the kill.
I stood there, frozen, my heart racing a million miles an hour. Zach was my only sibling. In that moment, something shifted inside me. He wasn’t just my annoying little brother who bothered me all the time; he was… my brother, gasping for breath, about to leave this world forever in an extremely violent way.
And I could do nothing but watch.
I had no ability to fight this monster. No strength, no weapon. An ache grew in my chest, and I found myself sobbing once again, only this time there was no hate in my heart for this crazy kid I’d grown up with. Only something foreign. Something so alien I almost didn’t recognize it. Affection? Love?
I didn’t have time to even contemplate, because just when I was about to throw my life away for my brother—and you have to realize, all of this happened in a
split second—Zach struck out with his hand and rammed his fingers into the animal’s left eye. A warm gel, along with a staring, black eyeball, suctioned to his skin as he pulled away, and goo dripped from his fingers in long tendrils.
I stared at the mess, feeling my gorge rise. One second later, I felt the hot, acidic contents of my stomach rise up and out of my mouth. I think the same thing happened with Zach, but I tried not to focus on anyone’s puke but my own.
The maimed, screaming creature dropped Zach and bounded into the trees. Zach fell to the ground with a grunt, but quickly jumped to his feet. He grabbed my hand, and we darted forward, hiding between logs and bushes, behind trees and branches, but wherever we turned, another hilda beast waited. The animals formed a tight circle, strategically closing us in.
“What do we do?” I asked while hiding behind Zach and holding onto his torn and bloodied shirt.
He didn’t sugarcoat it at all, which I wish he would have. “We die. ‘Cuz this isn’t like my game at all. I have no armor, no sword and… and…”
Fear gripped my heart in its icy fist, and I said the first thing that came to my mind. “No courage.” I said it mostly to myself, but he echoed the thought.
“Yeah.”
The hilda beasts moved in synchronized precision, working together to trap us. We were easy prey as we turned, trying to keep the beasts at our back. But there were just too many of them, and then something happened that surprised me yet again.
Zach shrugged me off and held up his fists. “If I’m gonna die, then I’ll do it like a hero in my game!”
A hilda beast with large, rounded horns lunged at us. Time seemed to slow as its claws reached out, sharp and stained. I stood there quaking, holding my fists up too, but not really intending to use them. I didn’t know how. The most I’d ever done was pinch or pull hair. True girl fighting.
But Zach. He leaped into the air, swiveled his hips—which by no means is a small feat, because like I said before, he was pretty chunky—and kicked the beast in the face. He’d never done anything like that before—at least that I’d seen. He could hardly run without getting out of breath. And doing what looked like a black-belt karate kick? No way.
Reluctant Guardian Page 25
