Next, he went after the heaviest concentration of horned monsters. He relentlessly fired on the beasts, transforming the field into a grotesque eruption of green flesh and innards. The lone skeleton creature raced to the far edge of the field in retreat. The horned monsters, however, enjoyed the carnage. They stood on their dead to get a closer look at the craft passing overhead. Everett too was enjoying himself. His tongue darted from his mouth as he rolled us into sharp turns. He yelped with glee when he landed a direct hit with the lasers.
Despite our victories in the field below, I was startled to realize that three horned monsters had managed to cling to the craft. I could see them on the monitor. Even as their legs dangled in midair, they continued to saw through the metal with their powerful horns. I nudged Everett and pointed to the screen. We watched as one of the demons used its sharp fingers to widen the gashes before finally busting its head inside the hatch. The monster behind it bunted it inside. Both disappeared from the screen as they entered the air lock. As the third monster crammed in its head, its horns became wedged in the tight opening. Stuck, it writhed in frustration.
Everett dipped the machine just below the tops of the stalks and slowed to a crawl. The monsters below gathered excitedly beneath the hovering craft. The sight of the stuck demon’s twisting body drove them into a frenzy. They jumped, swiping and grabbing at its legs. We could hear its angry growls on the other side of the metal door as its own kind clawed and pulled. That is, until its neck snapped and its body was torn from its head. The monsters below converged upon its headless torso like a pack of sharks, devouring it with much jubilance. As Everett pulled us up and away, he grinned devilishly at his own ingenuity.
The monsters in the air lock bashed their horns against the internal hatch. I was terrified knowing they were just on the other side of the metal door. It bulged from their ferocious efforts. When the tip of a black horn sliced through, I clamped my hand on Everett’s arm. “Do something!” I begged.
Everett pounded back at them. “C’mon!” he taunted. “Come and get us!” Thin, green fingers poked through the perforations in the metal. Grabbing hold, they tugged furiously, uncaring that their flesh was being sliced open.
“They’re getting in!” I bellowed, my fright reaching its crescendo.
Everett casually piloted the craft looking straight ahead. It was as if he had little concern about the monsters shredding through the door just beside him. “They’re not inside yet,” he coolly replied.
Their red eyes glowed through the gashes. They were at the peak of their excitement, smelling us, knowing in just moments they’d be disemboweling and eating us alive. One finally burst through the shredded barrier. Its head crashed into the cockpit mere inches from Everett’s face. Its horns were chipped and splintered. Green blood trickled from its dented forehead. It didn’t make a sound. It greeted us only with its unbreakable, sinister grin. I broke into a sudden sweat and began to hyperventilate. All I wanted was to turn my back on the monsters the way I could when they were trapped in my wall. But having escaped, they would no longer be so easy to elude.
It stretched its neck forward while unclenching its oversize mandible and displaying its full set of equally oversize sharp teeth. It drooled hungrily, eyeing Everett’s smooth neck. He had to have felt its hot and foul breath. Yet Everett paid the monster no mind. He continued looking to the horizon, where the dark outline of the trees met the night sky. At that moment, he may have seemed careless with our lives. But even amid my panic, I trusted Everett completely.
“Hold on,” he finally instructed. But I was already holding on. In fact, my knuckles had turned white from gripping his forearm so intensely. Even so, I squeezed harder. Without another warning, he rapidly jerked one of the levers to its extreme left position. Instantly, the craft tilted on its side. At once, the entrance to the craft faced the ground, becoming the floor. And suddenly, I was on the ceiling. As gravity shifted, we tumbled across the tiny cockpit. Our backs slammed against the metal hatch, smashing apart what was left of it.
“Turn over,” he ordered. “I don’t like the idea of our backs to those things!” Neither did I. I finally let go of his arm. Together, we rolled over and straddled the opening, with our hands and knees braced on the outer frame. In our precarious positions, we peered between the fragmented metal and into the dim compartment below.
The monsters had fallen against the outer hatch. One had partially broken through next to the still-wedged, decapitated head. It struggled to pull itself back into the air lock. The trouble was, the other monster had fallen onto its horns. The creature was skewered on its back, the thick horns piercing its chest and stomach. The monster beneath thrashed its head, furiously attempting to shake it loose. All the while, the skewered monster eyed us, reaching for us as it was violently tossed about the compartment. We arched our backs to keep its sharp fingertips from slicing into our stomachs.
Past the monsters, through the rips in the craft, I could faintly make out the tops of the cornstalks lightly swaying some one hundred feet below. A breeze swept into the cockpit. It cooled my face and lifted the hair from my forehead. “This is it,” Everett declared as if the breeze had sent him a signal.
“This is what?” I wondered as we faced the monsters and the dark field below.
Before he had a chance to explain, I felt an intense drop in the pit of my stomach. Gravity shifted again as the craft fell from the sky. We were tossed upward and pinned to the opposite side of the cockpit. The breeze became a strong wind. It burst through the damaged machine, stinging my eyes. It was powerful enough to loosen the severed head, which flew up and out of the air lock. It struck the wall right in front of my face. Its lips were frozen in its disturbing grin as if it enjoyed terrorizing me in death just as much as it had when alive. Its eyes fixed directly on mine, and we became locked in a morbid staring contest. It was probably a good thing I couldn’t tear my eyes from it. I didn’t want to see the ground coming closer. I didn’t want to know when the inevitable crash was going to happen. Yet gazing into the monster’s dead eyes couldn’t block the sound of the roaring wind or of the howling demons below.
Above it all, I heard Everett’s calming voice say, “You’re all right.”
“I’m all right,” I repeated, pinned to the wall, waiting to crash. And then it happened. Darkness followed darkness. The stare between me and the decapitated devil was broken. I looked all around, but all I could see was black.
11
Body of Darkness
In total darkness, surrounded by crumpled metal, I couldn’t tell if I was on the floor, the wall, or the ceiling. “Everett?” I whispered.
“I’m here. I’m going to climb over you. I think there’s an opening.” I felt his body slide over mine. I lifted my head, and it banged against metal. “Scoot back and follow me.” I backed out of the shallow space until I was able to stand on my knees. I felt for Everett and found his shirt. I clutched the fabric and followed it as it floated through a narrow opening. “It’s tight,” he said. “Be careful of the sharp edges.”
We cautiously climbed down from the crippled metal and rounded the ship. The point of impact was the outer hatch. Its buckled metal jutted from the ground. Gaping holes were torn in the hull. The front window was shattered. The craft was once again a pile of useless scrap like the old farm equipment it had been born out of.
Scratching came from inside the wreckage. Ever curious and brave, Everett stepped toward the sound. I followed behind warily, clutching his sleeve. As we approached, a pair of black horns rose through the rubble, swaying unsteadily. It must’ve smelled us because the demon suddenly sprang from the crevice. It wobbled down the pile of debris, hissing and snarling, violently slashing its claws through the air. It was the demon that had been skewered. When the ship crashed, it must’ve become dislodged from the horns of the monster beneath. Wounded, it was especially vicious. It neared us, jaws open, drooling green blood.
“Easy now,” said Everett as if
he were trying to calm a snarling dog. We backed away slowly—and then ran. We ran side by side down separate rows of corn. I could hear the wild and furious monster right behind me. It ripped through the stalks in its way, while its throat produced an ear-piercing howl mixed with a screech.
The last thing I expected—or needed—was a man suddenly stepping into the row before me. But as I ran for my life, that’s what happened. It couldn’t have been Everett. He was running right beside me. Was it Mr. Newberry? Old man Peterson? As I came closer, I realized it was neither. This man had to be at least eight feet tall. He stood steady as I ran straight for him. With the zealous creature so close to slashing me to pieces, I had no intention of slowing down. So I cut to the next row. But the man sidestepped into the same row, again blocking my path. I glanced over my shoulder to see that the crazed monster had itself switched rows in its pursuit. It had gained ground and began swiping at my legs. I switched rows again. And so too did the mysterious man.
Closing in on him, I saw he had on tall black boots and wore a long dark cloak. I suddenly realized that what stood in my way wasn’t a man at all. On my wall, its skin was so faint, so melded with the pattern, that I could barely make it out. Yet the longer I stared at the two darkened knots that were its eyes, the more I could see the face of the most humanlike of the monsters. Its skin was warped, manipulated by the subtle lines in the wood. These lines came to dramatic arches above its eyes, giving it a most sinister appearance. In “person,” it looked as though it had been hastily ripped from the paneling. Its skin retained its pattern, grain, and tone. Its melted flesh was twisted into knots. And like its image on the wall, the skin above its dark and vacant eyes stretched upward, creating high peaks that mimicked eyebrows.
With the horned demon at my heels, I had no choice but to collide with the twisted entity. It opened its cloak, holding the edges of the fabric high above its head, exposing the center of its body. Only from what I could tell, it had no body. All I could see between its boots and its twisted face was—emptiness. It wasn’t just dark. It was as if its body was composed of—black space. Just as I was about to crash into it, Everett shot into the row. He smashed into my shoulder, and we tumbled to the ground.
The horned monster, however, didn’t have a chance to alter its course. Charging forward with its head lowered like a bull, it unwittingly headed straight for the warped fiend, which did not waver. It stood firm, holding open its cloak. And upon contact with its body of darkness, the horned creature—evaporated. It was absorbed. Eaten by the dark body of the cloaked demon. After devouring the horned monster, it lowered its cape and wrapped it tightly around itself. It tilted its head back as its legs quivered. Having digested its meal, the still-hungry beast flung open its cloak once more. It swiveled on its boots and charged after Everett and me.
We scrambled to our feet and slipped down the rows as quietly as possible. We hid in a tight mesh of stalks, scanning for signs of the demented demon: the rustling of leaves, the sight of its flowing cape, the sound of its heavy boots. I stood up on my knees, clutching a sturdy cornstalk. The moist soil dampened my jeans. Everett looked to me with some measure of sympathy. “How you holding up?” he asked.
“Good,” I answered bravely. Sure, I was frightened. But with Everett near, fear was different. It was like riding a roller coaster. Everything out of my control. Yet all the while, securely strapped in. Safe. Protected. He took on the real danger so I didn’t have to. And with Everett, fear could also be exciting. It certainly excited him. And I had to admit, if I allowed myself to let go of my anxiety just a bit, his excitement was infectious.
“It’s almost morning,” he said. “It’s been a long night. And you did really well.” Everett stood and tapped the underside of my arm before casually leaving the cluster.
“It’ll hear us!” I whispered.
But Everett wasn’t afraid. With no intention of being left alone, I followed him. And after only a few rows, I found myself standing in the driveway. I couldn’t believe how close we had been. It was lighter outside the cornfield, the approaching dawn apparent. I gazed up to the second floor. “Do you think Mom and Dad are still alive?” I asked with trepidation.
He smirked. “I’m sure they are,” he replied. “And it’s Sunday. So we better get back in bed before they find out we were gone.”
Part III
Ian Stein and Todd the Toad
12
What Would Everett Do?
Ian Stein was emphatic that his new metallic-red pickup did not get scratched by reckless classmates. So he parked it back by the tennis courts. Crouched in its bed, I had a perfect view of the entire lot. But when everyone began pouring out of the building and racing to their cars, I couldn’t pinpoint him in the crowd. There were too many people. It was too chaotic. And the sun reflecting off the band room’s windows was blinding. Yet since it was a Friday afternoon, the lot emptied out especially quickly. In just a matter of minutes, only a handful of cars remained. The buses were gone. The mob of vehicles made its way down the rural road. I heard the procession in the distance—the honking horns, the occasional shouts from students hanging out their windows.
Finally, as the last of the cars trickled out of the lot, a tall figure emerged. Even with the glare, I could tell by his broad shoulders and the way his hair shone in the sun that it was Ian. Girls loved his thick, dark hair. Everett had been right when he told me Ian would be one of the last to leave. He knew his last class of the day was weight training. He figured he’d stay late bullshitting with the rest of the guys. Then he’d have to shower. It was a perfect time, Everett reasoned. There would be little chance someone else would see what I was about to do. I watched stealthily as Ian moved from the blinding light and into clear recognition.
I had listened to Everett carefully. I knew the plan. I had gone over it in my head a hundred times. Still, as I saw Ian strut toward his truck with his gym bag slung over his shoulder, a wave of anxiety washed over me. My eyes darted back and forth between Ian and Everett’s car parked just a few rows over. I placed my hand over my pocket to check, for the hundredth time, that the key to Everett’s car was still there. I then felt for Everett’s switchblade in the other pocket. When the moment came, I knew I’d have to act fast. I couldn’t screw up. I had to be ready.
Ian was at least halfway across the lot when someone else stepped into the blaze of light. The figure ran stiffly, trying to catch up to Ian. Based on the bulky size and awkwardly rigid posture, I knew it could only be one person: Todd the Toad. When he caught up to Ian, the two stopped and spoke for a moment. Then, together, they made their way toward Ian’s truck. Shit! I slipped down out of sight. It was only supposed to be Ian! Everett didn’t say what to do if someone else came to the truck with him. I panicked, not knowing how the hell I could possibly take on both Ian and Todd the Toad.
I couldn’t make out the words, but I heard Ian’s voice. When he finished speaking, I heard Todd’s stiff laughter. God, even his laughter was stiff. I heard their footsteps nearing and the twirling of keys. I curled myself into a ball over the uncomfortable corrugated metal, desperately attempting to will myself to disappear. “Thanks for the ride, man,” said the Toad right above me. The truck bounced as Ian climbed in and unlocked the passenger door. It bounced again as Todd took his seat.
A lightning bolt of fear struck me as the engine roared to life. My fate was sealed. I was trapped. Showoff Ian revved the engine. When he released the brake, the truck spun out of its parking space. I was thrown across the bed, and my shoulder slammed against its side. The high-pitched screech from the tires echoed throughout the campus. The air filled with choking smoke caused by burned rubber.
But the worst part was when we raced past Everett’s car. No! The mission had barely begun, and already I was failing. In the middle of the disaster, I told myself to concentrate. I needed to think clearly, quickly. What would Everett do? I wasn’t sure exactly, although I was sure about one thing: he wouldn’t have allow
ed himself to stay trapped in the back of Ian Stein’s runaway pickup.
While holding my sure to be black-and-blue shoulder, I managed to balance myself enough to stand up on my knees. Peering through the rear window, I could see Ian’s shiny hair up close and the back of Todd the Toad’s thick neck. With Ian about to race out of the parking lot, I knew I had only a moment to act. I made a fist and furiously pounded against the glass. “How’d I get myself into this?” I moaned under my breath.
13
Musk
A few days earlier, I was standing at my locker, twisting the knob, watching the numbers and the tick marks between them spin. The correct sequence was stored somewhere in my brain. But to retrieve it would mean to focus on where I was. I preferred to languish in the haze. By focusing on the spinning knob, I was able to tune out the commotion of the hall—the bustle of classmates, the slamming of locker doors. And once the noises were gone, I fled not only the hall, but the building itself.
It was during that void, in the five minutes between math and English, that I felt the cold splash strike my back. In an instant, I was pulled back from the ether, and the world I had successfully sequestered to black and white was shocked into color once more. The liquid penetrated my sweater. I felt it trickling down until it reached the small of my back.
Where the Cats Will Not Follow Page 8
