I realized with dim fury that the creature grasping Mia’s ankle was laughing. No, not laughing—chortling. It knew it had her, knew it could pry her off her perch at any time. So it was playing with her, deliberately amplifying her terror for cruel sport.
“No,” I breathed. But how to get to her?
Mia kicked and the beast’s hand came loose. It swung away from the rungs for a moment, its face a mask of surprise. Then it glowered up at Mia, who was clambering toward Juliet.
“Come on!” I shouted at Juliet. Mia reached her and began shoving her bodily up the ladder. Below them the creature recovered its hold and started climbing again. It looked mad now. Like, really mad. And no longer in the mood for games.
Mia’s time had almost run out.
I got down on my stomach, called to Juliet, “Move!”
She did, but not nearly fast enough. Of course, she was six and gripped by mortal terror, so maybe I should have cut her a little slack.
I reached through the trapdoor and groped for her hand. Her fingers grasped mine. Using all my strength, I hauled her up. I deposited her on the floor beside Kurt’s unmoving form and lunged back toward Mia.
The thing had her again. Only this time it was worse. Its entire upper body was even with Mia’s calves, and its noxious fingers were pawing Mia’s hips. Its long black tongue slithered over its lips, its green eyes alight with depraved lust.
A bright spire of outrage seared through me, and I shot a desperate look around the treehouse. I saw the many objects we’d collected up here, but other than the hatchet, none of them looked like they’d help Mia, and anyway, I had to climb over Mia in order to use the hatchet, and unless I could also locate an anti-gravitational suit, I knew I wouldn’t be able to accomplish that.
“What about the rope, Will?” Peach asked.
I gaped at her and realized she was right.
I snatched the rope out of her hands, tied it around one of the overhead joists as quickly as I could, thinking as I did so how lucky I was that we were crappy carpenters. Otherwise I’d have never been able to slip the rope around the wooden two-by-six above me. Without pause, I tied the other end of the rope around my waist and crossed to the trapdoor opening.
The beast was embracing Mia, a revolting leer etched on its face.
I clamped the hatchet between my teeth. I probably looked like a prepubescent pirate, but I wasn’t fighting one of those monsters without a weapon.
I lowered myself through the hole. I had to be extremely careful. If my rescue mission went awry, I’d knock Mia off the tree, killing us both and leaving Peach and Juliet exposed to the beasts’ insatiable appetites.
I let myself fall.
As I slipped through the opening, I pushed away from the tree, plummeting, my body angling where I wanted it to, but at that moment a new fear assaulted me—what if the rope was too long? My God, what if I kept right on dropping all the way into the crowd of Children?
But the rope jerked taut. It wrenched my neck something awful, but I couldn’t have scripted my fall any better. I was at eye level with the creature’s lower back, the rope having permitted me to swing out about eight feet from the tree. Even more astonishingly, the creature didn’t seem to have noticed me yet, was apparently too enchanted by the sight of the girl in its arms to worry about someone crashing his party.
I arced toward the beast, raised the hatchet.
Quicker than I would have dreamed possible, the beast whirled and sprang at me. Suddenly abandoned, Mia nearly lost her hold on the rungs. But now I was in far worse shape, for as the beast’s wiry body hit me, the hatchet missing its mark and nearly slipping out of my hand, the length of rope groaned as though it were about to snap. With one slimy arm the creature clung to me. The stench of rancid hamburger and soiled diapers bored into my nostrils. But I had bigger things to worry about. The creature had raised its free arm for an attack.
The beast’s talons flashed toward me.
Impulsively, I shot up a wrist, thinking to deflect the blow, but in doing so I’d raised the hatchet. There was a shinking sound, then the creature squalled. The meat of its forearm had lodged on the sharp blade.
The creature jerked its arm free and nearly took the hatchet with it. We were dangling a foot or two away from the tree, and I knew if I lost my weapon I’d be dead.
The creature’s face darted at mine. I jerked aside, but I only partially evaded the thing’s lethal jaws. Blazing heat scorched my ear, and blood splashed down my neck.
The beast’s head bounced, and pain bloomed in its face.
Then anger. I glanced up and saw Mia raising her foot to stomp on the creature again. The beast reached up, battened on to her ankle. Mia gripped the rungs above us, fighting and struggling, but the beast wouldn’t relinquish its hold. It was more interested in her than it was in me—most of the creatures seemed to be male, and I got the impression they were driven largely by horniness—which allowed me to lean away from it, the hatchet cocked.
When its arm lay against the tree, I shouted at Mia, “Hold still!”
She frowned like I was insane, which I probably was, but she listened. Before the creature could chomp her calf, I hammered down with the hatchet, the blade sinking right through the thing’s arm at the elbow. A black jet of ichor sprayed us both, but the creature, shrieking and grasping its severed arm, forgot to hold on. In the next moment it was plummeting toward its waiting brothers and sisters. By the time it hit the ground with a bruising thump, Mia and I were already clambering into the treehouse. We made it inside, and Peach slammed the door shut. I scrambled to the medicine cabinet, fetched the padlock, and slid it into place.
Not that it would make any difference.
Because now we were trapped. Mia and I, two little girls, and an unconscious asshole.
Below us were a dozen monsters.
In other words, we were completely fucked.
¨
The storm’s fury had diminished.
For more than a minute, the only sound we detected was the occasional thunk of a raindrop on the sheet metal roof.
The waiting was unbearable. There were tiny chinks in the floor planks, places where the wood had warped and we could glimpse the creatures if we put our faces down and peered through. Peach and Juliet volunteered for this duty, which was fine by me. I needed to think, needed to come up with a plan, because without one we stood no chance.
I sucked in breath. It was like someone had walloped me with a sledgehammer. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before.
“Mia,” I said in a harsh whisper. “Get up for a minute.”
Frowning, she did, and I wished I had spoken to her a little more delicately. But we didn’t have time for apologies now. Any second those monsters would be scaling the tree to kill us and eat us, not necessarily in that order, and I knew I had to work fast.
I gripped the bucket on which she’d been sitting and lifted it.
It rose from the floor, but it was heavy.
Heavy was good.
At my ear, Mia asked, “What’s in there? Paint?”
I shook my head. “Kerosene.”
She squeezed my arm so hard it made me wince. “Do you have something to light it?”
I nodded. “Over there. By the lamp.”
I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten it. The kerosene controversy had taken place last summer. Chris had a lazy streak and constantly complained about having to replace the fuel for the old-fashioned lamp we used for illumination up here. The lamp had belonged to Chris’s grandmother, and since neither his mom nor his dad were much on family heirlooms, Chris had been permitted to commandeer it for our treehouse.
The problem was, the thing burned through fuel so fast, it got so we were toting the lamp down every week and refilling it from the five-gallon bucket of kerosene at Barley’s dad’s store. Then Chris had gotten the bright idea to lug the entire five-gallon bucket up to the treehouse. We told him the idea was nuts, but once it got lodged in his
head, he wouldn’t let it die. He brainstormed strategies, sketched out numerous diagrams, and finally settled on a complicated system of ropes and pulleys.
The amazing part was that it had actually worked. At the time, the bucket had been completely full, Chris arguing that it was pointless to expend all that energy on an insufficient load. Now, after having used the bucket for almost a year, some of it was gone.
But there was still plenty left. Maybe three quarters of it.
Would it be enough to incinerate the monsters beneath us? I didn’t know. But it was certainly enough to do some damage. If we could both spray the creatures with the kerosene and light them on fire.
But how?
I knew I couldn’t just request that they stand still while I doused them. And even if I could, how would I ignite the kerosene? The long red butane lighter we used up here was our only means of starting a fire, and yes, there was a button on the lighter that allowed it to remain lit. But I couldn’t just drop it forty feet and hope it would set the creatures ablaze.
Mia asked, “What are you thinking?”
I blinked at her, realized I’d been a million miles away. “I’m just…” I bit my lip, wishing I were smarter.
“How much is in here?” she asked, tapping the bucket lid.
“Four gallons?” I guessed. “A hair less?”
“So the first thing we do is figure out how to deliver the kerosene,” she said.
I nodded, liking the way her thoughts synched up with mine. I was also grateful to have someone else working on the problem. After all I’d been through, my brain felt like mush.
For something to do, I went over, put a hand on Peach’s back. She was on her belly, squinting through a gap in the floor. “Any movement yet?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” she said quietly. “I can only see a few of them, but they’re all just waiting. Looking up at me.”
Her words chilled me. I wanted to tell her it was her imagination. That she was only imagining those accursed green eyes directed at her, but I suspected she was right. The creatures were waiting. For what, I didn’t know. But they were undoubtedly planning on taking us by force. The one whose arm I’d lopped off would certainly want revenge.
“He’s climbing,” Peach said in a thin voice.
I stared down at her a moment, and it wasn’t until she looked up at me, tears already welling in her big eyes, that it hit me.
The creatures were coming to get us.
“That’s what they were waiting for,” she said. “The biggest one. He must’ve been busy eating Rebecca, but now he’s here, pointing up at us.”
Mia hustled over to the trapdoor, waved the girls closer. “Sit beside me. Yes, right beside me. We need to hold the door down.”
We’re dead, I thought. The extent of our plan was to try to keep the trapdoor closed, as if that would do any good. I’d seen what these monsters could do, watched them shimmy up wet surfaces, seen them leap fifteen feet with ease. Soon they’d be swarming over the treehouse from all directions, and then it’d be a smorgasbord. Leg of Peach here. Arm of Mia there. With some tasty Will guts for dessert.
The trapdoor under Mia jounced.
“Will?” she said. “We can’t hold them.”
As if to confirm this statement, the door jarred violently, this time actually bouncing Mia and the girls into the air.
“Do something!” Juliet cried.
I took a step toward them, thinking to climb onto the door too, but that would only delay the breaching of the treehouse. The beasts wouldn’t stop until they could feed. That was the only thing that had stopped the biggest one from killing us earlier. The beast had been occupied, it had been stationary…immersed in its feeding. But there was nothing left to eat, other than us.
I toyed with the idea of making a break for it, luring them away from the treehouse so the others could escape.
But they’d catch me for sure. Then they’d kill the girls.
It was hopeless.
Mia looked up at me. “I don’t think we can—” Her eyes shuttered wide. “Will, look out!”
I turned just in time to see Kurt Fisher’s fist zooming toward my face. He caught me right in the nose, my head snapping back. The pain was so quick and intense I think I lost consciousness for a moment. But I was aware enough to know I’d crashed down onto Mia, both of us tangled in a snarl of limbs. There was a tussle, then Mia was shouting at Kurt to give her the keys back. Something blurred past my face—Kurt’s fist, I realized—and then Mia grunted with surprise and pain.
Even after all that had happened, I was astounded that Kurt would punch a girl.
But I was too groggy from the blow Kurt had dealt me to defend Mia. I swiveled my head around, saw Kurt, his eyes bright with what might have been insanity, shoving Peach and Juliet away from the trap door. Kurt seized my forearm, began dragging me toward the trap door. He undid the padlock.
He opened the trap door. The creature that had been pushing up on it lost its grip and tumbled away from the tree with an indignant screech.
I stared at the open trap door. Kurt yanked me closer.
What fogginess had come over me was whipped away by an icy gust of terror.
Kurt was sacrificing me.
“They’ll be too busy with you to worry about the rest of us,” Kurt said through gritted teeth. He hauled me toward the square opening, the sight of the approaching Children swimming into focus. They were halfway up the rungs, their emerald eyes blazing with anticipation.
“Don’t do this,” I said, marshaling whatever energy I had to resist Kurt. I started pushing to my feet, but before I could stand he whipped an elbow into my gut and kneed me in the forehead when I doubled up.
He forced me to the floor, my upper body leaning precariously over the opening. “You’ll be giving your sister a chance, Burgess. Be a man for once in your life.”
“NO!” Peach shouted, and in the next moment her little shape was hurtling across the opening and battening onto Kurt’s leg like a feral cat. She was punching him, scratching at the arm that was pushing me toward the opening.
Then it happened.
Kurt slapped Peach.
She went flying toward the wall, her little feet rising into the air and jolting when she struck plywood. The sight of her half-conscious body lying there twisted and beaten enraged me like nothing in the world could. Kurt seized my shoulders, began stuffing me downward toward the opening. The creatures were only ten feet away now. In seconds they’d be feasting on me.
“Leave him alone!” Juliet screamed.
I reached up, grabbed Kurt’s hands, and pushed them apart. Though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he’d lost balance, was falling on top of me. I swung my head up, hoping to head butt Kurt in the face.
His nose crushed like a robin’s egg.
He squalled, let go of me, but his momentum brought him down on top of me, sent us both dropping toward the trapdoor opening. I shot out my arms to prevent us both from falling through. I looked down in terror, saw the first creature was nearly to the opening. Five feet away and climbing.
And Kurt and I were sinking through the trapdoor.
“Kurt,” I grunted, fighting to support our combined weight. “Get…off…me.”
His bloody nose gushed over my neck, poured in runnels over me, dripped through the trapdoor opening.
Pattered on the beast’s upturned face.
Its green eyes flashed, its maniacal bloodlust enflamed. I watched in numb horror as its long black tongue wormed out and licked Kurt’s blood off its lips.
I strained against Kurt, bucked against his weight, but it was too late, too late. The creature was upon us, reaching up, ravenous for more blood. It reached up, up, its hateful talons growing ever nearer, and I knew this was it, the monsters were finally going to claim me. I only hoped Mia would have the courage to take Peach and Juliet and make a break for it while the beasts were devouring me.
The talons drew even with my face, moved high
er.
Then several things happened at once.
Kurt gasped. Something grabbed my ankles. And then the world was twisting, limbs flailing. Kurt began to shriek. My body was yanked upward, Kurt’s body scraping over mine, Peach commanding anyone who would listen to help her brother. I realized Peach, Mia, and Juliet were dragging me away from the opening, but the beast was hauling Kurt toward it. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see a gout of blood splash into the air. Kurt’s blood.
Kurt’s bloody nose had saved me, I realized. It was blood that the creature wanted. That’s why it had reached past me and seized hold of Kurt. Inside the treehouse, I pushed to my knees and gazed down at the scene below.
The creature at the top of the rungs was clutching Kurt in one arm and tearing at him with its razor-like teeth. My stomach clenched when I saw what the beast had done to Kurt, how his savaged throat had hinged sideways.
He was dead already.
Below them the other beasts roared, no doubt frantic to get at Kurt’s body too.
Another creature clambered over them, its movements impossibly quick. I made to shut the trapdoor but it was too late. One moment I was glancing at Kurt’s ruined throat. The next I was flying backward, the creature exploding through the opening, lifting me and pinning me to the flimsy plywood walls. My feet hung two feet off the ground. The creature opened its maw, prepared to rip my throat out.
Its head jerked, something having smacked it from behind. Snarling, it whirled and let me fall. I landed in a heap and saw Mia, her thin leather belt dangling from her fingers like a whip. Before the creature could spring, Mia struck again, the silver buckle lashing the creature in the face and apparently blinding it. It stumbled sideways, howling in fury, its fingers pressed to its bleeding eyes.
I heard more monsters clambering upward. I looked down, saw them swarming over Kurt’s dead body. The beast grasping Kurt roared in fury, but the weight of the other beasts was too much. They lost hold of the rungs and tumbled downward in a writhing ball. Watching them fall was like witnessing an avalanche, only instead of snow and rock, this one was comprised of white limbs and bestial faces.
Children of the Dark Page 29
