“Eaten by now, I bet.”
“Not funny.” But Everett’s face was grim. He was concentrating, taking in the danger. He fed on it. Finding hidden treasure and watching me play with affectionate cats wasn’t enough. He craved something more. Something darker.
“Over there!” He pointed deep into the stalks. I peered down the row. It sounded like a zipper being swiftly pulled up and then down as I caught a flash of something slipping between the leaves. I wasn’t sure what it was. All I knew at that point was that I was petrified. A moment later, I saw it again down another row. Leaves curled around it and then released as it streaked by, causing the zipping noise. It was circling us. In front of us one moment. Alongside us the next. As we huddled together, Everett warned, “We’d better get outta here and head for the center of the cornfield.”
Before I could ask what was at the center of the cornfield, the grouping of stalks before us peeled apart. The stalks were clenched in tight bunches—by two giant fists. Each finger was the size of a human arm. No flesh covered the enormous hands. Instead, they were raw bone. Although I didn’t want to, I couldn’t stop myself from gazing upward. I was both terrified and in awe as its colossal skull lowered before us, its exposed prey. Its chin protruded well into its chest. Its jaws, lined with massive teeth, jutted upward in a dramatic slant that gave it a sinister, frozen smile. It did not have eyes, but rather two large, uneven openings, which allowed us to see into the back of its hollow head.
As its massive frame stood, it easily uprooted the cornstalks still in its grip. We were showered with dirt and rocks. The mammoth skeleton creature towered over us as tall as the tallest tree in the woods. I couldn’t move. I was transfixed by its bright bones glowing against the black night. It was larger and more terrifying than I could’ve possibly ever imagined. And just when I thought it couldn’t be any more intimidating, it began producing a low moan. I couldn’t be sure if its moaning was something it produced consciously, or if it was simply created by the wind rushing through its gaping nasal cavity and vacant eye sockets.
It crossed its heavy arms. When it uncrossed them, stretching its limbs to their full length, it released its grip, and the stalks were flung clear across the cornfield in opposite directions. With its hands free, the creature swung for us. Everett ducked. But I stood in frozen amazement, watching the gigantic hand brushing through the tops of the stalks like a tidal wave careening straight for me. Just before I was about to be obliterated, Everett tackled me from behind. Still on the ground, he repeated his command: “Run for the center of the field!” He motioned for me to follow before launching into a mad sprint.
Intending to launch into my own sprint, I scrambled to my feet—only to find the skeleton’s tree-trunk-size legs blocking my path. I attempted to run around it. It swiveled on its hips, its long limbs reaching for me. When I broke out of my semicircle, I ran ahead as fast as I could. But I didn’t get far. Its powerful hand clamped on to my shoulders. Its fingers curled over my chest. And my head was wedged between its thumb and forefinger.
I screamed for Everett, who turned back to the terrifying sight of me being dragged backward through the stalks. He ran beside me, furiously attempting to pry off the giant fingers. But it was no use. When the monster finally halted, it lowered its menacing jawbone and began lifting me to its mouth. Everett leapt through the air and grabbed hold of my torso. As we dangled, he used his weight to repeatedly jerk downward. He was able to loosen the monster’s grip just enough, and I slipped from its fingers. We crashed to the ground, my cheek planted firmly in the dirt.
By the time we flipped onto our backs, the skeleton was standing over us. It swung its arms high over its head. Like a swinging pirate-ship ride at a carnival, its fists paused a moment at the highest point before plummeting back down with deadly force. As it dropped its fists over us with every intent of pulverizing and pounding our remains deep into the ground, we quickly rolled in separate directions. The massive fists smashed to the earth. The monster struggled to dislodge its fists half-buried in craters created by the forceful impact.
Everett sprang to his feet. Using both hands, he grabbed one of the fists. He appeared to help the skeleton free its limb from the ground. But before the creature could gain control, he yanked with all his strength. The tall monster jerked forward. Everett yanked again. And again. And on the fourth yank, its arm ripped straight out of its shoulder socket. The giant limb collapsed like a falling tree.
The angry skeleton thrust its bulky frame backward, freeing its remaining arm. It then lunged forward and swiped at Everett. But Everett was quick to jump out of its path. The creature’s forward move, combined with the loss of its appendage, caused it to become unbalanced. Everett took advantage of its wobbling legs. He pushed the creature—and it toppled over. As it collapsed, several of its ribs cracked. The battered skeleton thrashed in the corn, attempting to stand. But before it could even sit upright, Everett rushed to its skull. He grunted while repeatedly kicking its frozen, sneering face. He kicked until its hollow head cracked to pieces and collapsed into itself. He kicked until the skeleton was nothing more than a feeble pile of bones.
We had vanquished our first monster but had no time to celebrate. Soon, we heard the distinct zipping sound of thick bone curling the corn leaves. All we had to do was look up to confirm the terrible discovery: a second skeleton stalked us from its towering vantage. It wasted no time swinging for our heads. Everett quickly spun and grabbed the dislodged limb behind us. He held it over his head like a massive sword. When the colossal bones collided, the force threw Everett to the ground. Yet his quick thinking saved us from certain double decapitation.
With his new weapon, Everett went on the offensive. He got back to his feet and charged the skeleton, forcing it back a few rows. The skeleton, enraged by Everett’s resourcefulness, raised its arms. A burst of strong wind rushed through its hollow head, allowing it to roar into the night. Everett wielded his weapon awkwardly yet managed to block the monster’s blows.
“There’s a craft in the middle of the cornfield!” he shouted as I cowered behind him.
“A craft?”
“If we can make it, we can use it to fight them. Find it! I’ll meet you there! Go!” he instructed as giant bone clashed with giant bone.
I didn’t want to leave his side. But reluctantly I did as he said and ran up the slope. I knew when the ground leveled off, I’d be somewhere near the center of the field. I only looked back once. The sight of the giant creature swiping at the severed arm, controlled by an unseen force beneath the stalks, was hauntingly surreal.
10
The Craft
My night vision was at its most keen at that point, leading me through the dark maze of corn. I neared the top of the slope, anxious to begin my search for the mysterious craft Everett spoke of. But as I charged tenaciously through the stalks, I felt as if I had been abruptly punched in the gut. Whatever I had collided with was forceful enough to knock me on my back, and I collapsed into a thick bevy of stalks. Covered in a blanket of the rough leaves, I didn’t dare move, unknowing what dark entity had bowled me over and was lurking just on the other side of my thin cover.
Without warning, the stalks nearest my feet were torn away. I peered down the tunnel of overlapping stalks—and a new monster was revealed. Compared to the statuesque skeleton creature, this monster was the size of a three-year-old child. It had stubby, muscular legs. Black horns, wide and thick at the base, curved upward from each side of its head before narrowing to points. It stared directly at me, its wide eyes glowing a dim shade of red. It grinned with a disturbingly large mouth, filled with razor-sharp teeth, that stretched from one side of its face to the other.
I was paralyzed with fear. And it knew this. It savored my undivided attention. My reaction was what it craved as it lifted one of its long, thin fingers, opened its mouth, and stuffed the finger all the way to the back of its throat. It then clamped its jaws. As I squirmed, it slowly dragged its finger thro
ugh its clenched teeth. I could hear its bones crushing. With its lips curled upward, the monster seemed to relish the pain. It held its unblinking gaze on me as green blood squirted between its teeth and oozed down its chin.
With its mangled finger hanging limp, it boldly stepped up on my legs, balancing itself without breaking its intimidating stare. In excruciatingly slow movements, it began stepping its way up my legs. When it reached my stomach, I took short breaths, trying to sustain its weight with as little motion as possible. And when it reached my chest, it squatted, looking at me as it bared its sadistic smile. Up close, I could see that its flesh was moldy green and that its body was full of scars and bite marks.
It covered its face with the hand it had not desecrated. It then displayed its pointy fingers to me the way a mime might—by slowly unfurling them over its eyes until each digit was subsequently tucked under its chin in a dramatic fashion. It repeated this gesture several times. Its movements were so slow, so delicate, yet held the subliminal threat of it turning ferocious at any moment. I wanted to call out, but fear caused my throat to close up. I could barely breathe as it lowered its face close to mine and opened its drooling mouth.
I suspected a single bite from those jaws could’ve easily taken off my head. Just as I was about to find out for sure, I felt a tug under my arms. I had been grabbed and suddenly found myself being dragged backward. I looked up to see Everett. He had of course won his duel with the second skeleton creature and had come to rescue me from the horned devil.
The monster lost its balance and fell off my chest. But as Everett heroically attempted to pull me to safety, it quickly latched on to my ankles. When Everett saw the monster clawing its way up my thrashing legs, he dropped my shoulders and kicked the evil thing in the face. It tumbled backward. When it came out of its somersault, it assumed a curious stance: it sat frozen, with its legs folded. It held its hands beside its horns, its fingers clenched in a clawing position—one dangling, wilted finger naturally not cooperating.
Everett bravely approached the creature, which appeared to be in some sort of meditative state. Yet the idea that it focused on peaceful thoughts was highly dubious. Everett raised his foot, intending to stomp its head while he had a clear shot. But the demon simply tilted back its neck and opened its massive jaws. Everett, luckily, was able to retract his leg before its bear-trap-of-a-mouth clamped on to his foot.
As it remained in its strangely serene yet disturbing pose, we very cautiously stepped past the monster. As soon as we put the distance of a few rows between us and it, we took off running up the remainder of the slope. Fearful it had been compelled to follow, I looked over my shoulder. Much to my horror, our situation had become much grimmer. Not just one, but a dozen pairs of red eyes flickered behind us, multiplying as we ran.
Everett stopped abruptly. We had made it to the center of the cornfield. I knew exactly where we were. It was the spot where the pile of old rusted farm machinery sat that we used to play on. Except on that night, as we peeled back the surrounding stalks, the equipment was no longer there. Something was, however. It was as if the old tractors and plows had reconfigured and transformed themselves—into some type of futuristic spacecraft. Just like Everett had promised, I found myself standing before a craft that silently hovered a few feet above the ground. About the size of a car, the metallic machine was oval, with a darkened window slanted down its front.
Overlapping growls permeated the surrounding stalks. Red eyes glowed all around us. Slowly, the group of horned monsters emerged. With haunting grins plastered across their faces, they began to encircle us.
Everett placed his hand on the metal craft. Beside it, a numeric keypad lit up. He looked into my eyes and in an encouraging voice said, “You know the code. Punch it in.” How could I possibly know the code? But I nodded anyhow and punched in the first set of numbers that popped into my head: 27-16-08. I didn’t know where the numbers came from. But they came to me quickly, like I had known them all along. The keypad blinked twice, and after a few seconds, a hatch opened vertically. The monsters stepped closer as Everett and I slipped inside. They were patient, curious about our attempts to elude them. On the inside was a large red button next to the hatch. I immediately slapped it with my palm, and the hatch shut as quickly as it had opened.
We found ourselves in an air lock of sorts, pressed together in the tiny space. Buttons and blinking lights covered the walls. I spotted a keypad similar to the one outside the craft. I punched in the code, and a second, internal hatch opened. I was first to enter the main compartment. The space was cramped. It was like being on the top half of a bunk bed that was too close to the ceiling. I crawled across the floor, made of a white foam material, and lay on my stomach in one of the two grooves. The foam adjusted to comfortably fit my body. Everett slid into his groove next to the hatch. He slapped a second red button, which sealed us into the main compartment.
In front of us was the window, allowing us to see horned monsters continuing to emerge from the corn. As they approached the clearing, they stepped slowly over fallen stalks and clumps of dirt without looking to their feet. It was as if somehow they had memorized, or inherently knew, every inch and subtlety of the land. Some stepped, holding their hands beside their horns in a clawing position like the first horned monster we encountered. Others sat with their pointy fingers folded in front of them. Yet each stared intently, unblinking, at the floating machine.
Beneath the window was a panel slanted toward us. It was full of levers, buttons, and three screens. I touched one of the screens, and it crackled to life. In popped an enhanced image of the cornfield, allowing us to see in the dark. I tapped the other two screens and realized that one gave us the view from behind the craft, while the other two covered the sides.
With the horned monsters gathered in a tight grouping around the craft, three new skeleton creatures lumbered just behind them. I shuddered at the group of sadistic beings. The thick horns. The razor teeth. The colossal hollow skulls with sloped eyes. Everett had been right. The monsters from my wall had come to life. They were real. And they had us surrounded.
Ready for the taste of our meat, the horned monsters began dragging their sharp fingertips across the metal, creating wince-inducing screeches. I used the knob below one of the monitors to adjust the camera’s angle. Demons clustered outside the hatch. They scratched at it like rabid dogs, determined to get inside.
Everett randomly grabbed a control on his side of the dashboard that looked like a joystick. He yanked it to the left, and the vehicle swung sharply to the left. The monsters nearest the craft were bashed in the head as it rotated. Some dug their claws into the metal and held on, their legs dragging over the trampled stalks. The vehicle stopped abruptly when Everett let up on the control.
The sudden movement invigorated the monsters. Those at the back of the pack began pushing their way forward, smashing the others against the metal. Eager to join in, the skeleton monsters hoisted their long arms over their heads. They took turns hammering the roof with their gigantic fists. The craft rocked. The ceiling began to cave. Between the sharp claws tearing into the metal and the powerful pelts overhead, I feared that the craft would split in two.
Everett tried again to rotate us. But the craft wouldn’t budge against the horde of muscular fiends. He furiously flipped switches, turned knobs, and punched buttons. They seemed to have no effect—until he reached a row of small red buttons. When he touched the first one, a beam of white light shot out from beneath the craft. The beam exploded the horned monsters in its path before colliding with the leg of a skeleton, pulverizing it into thousands of tiny fragments. The giant creature teetered backward, then forward. It sounded like a shower of bricks as it collapsed directly onto the craft. It was still for a moment, draped over the roof. I figured it was dead. But then it began to convulse, kicking and pounding, moaning in fury as it tried to dislodge itself. Its knee jerked into the glass, and the window began to splinter.
Everett tried the n
ext red button. I watched on the monitor as the slew of horned monsters surrounding the hatch were blown away. A surviving demon had one of its horns seared off by the laser. It chuckled to itself, amused as it ran its finger along the still-smoldering remnants. It then chewed on the finger, apparently enjoying the charred flavor.
Everett madly punched all four red buttons simultaneously. Powerful beams shot from all sides of the craft. The resulting chaos and bloodshed worked the monsters into a fury of violence. They hurled their bodies at the craft. And as the rapid-fire lasers turned them into bursts of green gristle, more rushed forward to take their place. On one of the screens, I noticed several of the horned monsters had learned to evade the ammunition. Using their sharp fingertips, they climbed their way above the firing lasers. Clinging to the craft, they tilted their heads and used their strong horns to slice into the already weakened hatch. “They’re breaking through!” I shouted.
Everett glanced at the monitor, nodded, and then took a chance by slowly pulling one of the levers on the dash. The craft hummed—and began to rise. He pulled back the lever until we rose well above the corn, until the skeletons could barely reach us. Their knuckles clanked ominously yet harmlessly beneath the craft.
Finally, safe from the monsters in the corn, Everett pushed another lever forward, and the craft propelled forward. Using a combination of the levers, he was able to manipulate our thrust and altitude. And he learned he could steer with the joystick he had discovered earlier that made us spin. After a bit of practice, he maneuvered the craft gracefully through the night sky. As we flew above the field, we could see over the woods and the darkened neighborhood. I looked to the roof of our house and wondered what had become of Mom and Dad. Had a skeleton monster punched through the window and snatched them out of bed? Had a group of horned monsters converged upon them in their sleep?
Everett spun us back toward the center of the field. As we passed over the drove of monsters, he tilted the craft on its side, tossing off the cracked skeleton. As it fell, its long arms reached back for the craft. And when it slammed to the ground, it crushed a half dozen horned monsters and pinned others. Everett dropped the craft to a low altitude and swooped over the monsters again. This time, he fired the craft’s front laser at one of the skeleton monsters until it exploded into a million bits. We flew through the powdered mist of pulverized bone before returning for another pass.
Where the Cats Will Not Follow Page 7
