Fire And Steel (The Merryweather Chronicles Book 2)

by Lesley Woodral

  Brandon asked. "Was he a warrior?"

  Arch snorted. "Foolish question, boy. Stephen Merryweather, a warrior? Why would he want to do something so stupid as make wars? Oh, no." The man sounded proud. "Stephen was a scholar. A pacifist."

  "A coward, you mean?"

  "Don't be stupid, Bran. It doesn't become you." Arch shook his head. "It takes a far braver man to stand up to evil without a weapon, than with. Your father did great things without resorting to violence against others. His courage, his strength, saved a great many people."

  Brandon could think of nothing to say to that. He looked around the shop, at the strange objects and books that Arch surrounded himself with, and imagined his father standing where he was now. Arch must of saw something of his thoughts on his face because he broke the silence, saying. "Your father was an amazing person, Bran. He helped countless people in his life. You can be proud. Cherish the time that you had with him and your mother. Cherish it always. Don't let yourself forget them, no matter how it hurts to remember. They deserve to be remembered by the person they loved most in this world."

  Brandon left Goldman's shop a few minutes later, awash in thoughts of his parents and feelings that he'd been ignoring for weeks and weeks. He was already late for school, so there was no point in hurrying. Albert was long gone, probably already sitting in class, so Brandon walked alone. His step felt noticeably lighter since his visit with the old man. Arch hadn't revealed much more about his father than that he was heroic, self sacrificing, and kept his secrets close, but it was refreshing to see his father from a new prospective. Knowing that his father had wandered these streets, the same as he was doing now, made Brandon feel closer to him.

  Brandon was crossing the high school parking lot when he saw the Kruegers drag Albert into the old gym. There were two gyms at Matheson High. One was built in the early nineties, big and thoroughly modern. It was used for all of the home basketball games and pep rallies. There was a weight room on the second floor, used by the football team mostly, and a full service sauna. That was the NEW gym. It didn't matter that it was already more than twenty years old, it would always be the new gym.

  The old gym was on the other side of the school. Built in the forties, it was made of heavy rock and lumber, with stained glass in the upper windows, and was only used for practices and some lesser school functions. The elementary school kids spent the afternoons in the old gym, playing dodge ball or tee ball. A lot of schools had done away with dodge ball, including Brandon's old one in Washington, saying it was too violent. That it made kids too aggressive. But the kids at Matheson didn't seem to have gotten that memo. A match could be found in the old gym most afternoons. The rest of the time, the old gym sat empty.

  Brandon hurried across the parking lot and entered the gym just as the Kruegers were beginning their assault on Albert. Luke held Albert's arms behind his back as Perry tormented the smaller boy. He poked Albert in the stomach with a stiff finger, slapping his face and saying. "You going to cry, queer bait? I want to hear you cry like the little bitch you are."

  "Leave him alone." Brandon shouted, moving out onto the basketball court. The old gym's floor was polished wood, as opposed to the artificial flooring in the new gym. The boy's shoes squeaked on the floor as the Kruegers looked at Brandon, then at one another. Perry stepped away from Albert and turned to face Brandon. Luke just looked at Brandon over Albert's head and grinned. Brandon took another step toward the boys and said. "Let him go."

  Perry looked at his brother. "You heard the orphan boy. Let the little queer go."

  Luke smiled and shoved Albert away, pushing the smaller boy hard enough to send him crashing to the hard wood floor. Albert hit hard, landing on his arm the wrong way. Brandon heard the bone snap from where he stood. Albert screamed, rolling onto his side and clutching his hand to his chest. Brandon moved before the Kruegers could realize what was happening.

  Luke was smirking when Brandon hit him in the mouth, knocking the big kid back a step. Perry tried to make a grab for Brandon, grinning maniacally. Brandon ducked underneath his hand, slamming a fist into the skinny Krueger's stomach, and snap kicked his knee.

  Perry dropped to the floor, holding his knee and choking on his breath. He glared at his brother and screamed. "Get him."

  Luke rushed Brandon, trying to use his bulk to take him to the floor. His mouth was bloody from where Brandon hit him. He roared as he charged forward, throwing his arms wide. Not the best choice in battle tactics. Brandon met the charge head on, bracing his legs and tucking his head down. When Luke reached him, intent on swallowing Brandon in his bulky arms, Brandon dropped and stiff armed the bigger boy in the stomach. The impact made Brandon's arm shiver and caused Luke's eyes to pop wide open.

  Brandon spun around the falling boy, slipping underneath his spasming fingers, and drove his foot into the back of Luke's knee, sending him to the floor. Luke bellowed like a bull. He rolled over and tried to stand, but Brandon smashed an elbow into the side of his head and Luke hit the floor.

  Perry was up. The lanky kid tried to ambush Brandon while he was focused on Luke. He leapt onto Brandon's back, trying to get an arm under Brandon's chin. But Brandon snaked out from under the arm before the choke hold could lock and spun, driving an elbow into Perry's face, smashing the boy's nose for the second time. Perry fell back, hitting the hard wood, and his head bounced with an echoing thud.

  The Kruegers both rolled onto their backs, holding their arms around their heads and bellowing in pain. Brandon looked at the two of them for a moment before turning to look for Albert. But Albert was nowhere to be found. He must've run away when the fight started. Brandon didn't blame him, though. That was what he'd told him to do whenever the Kruegers were involved.

  Brandon left the Kruegers on the floor, leaving the gym and heading for class. He spared a thought for the Krueger's father and his warning from before, but wasn't really worried about it. The big man had seemed like just as big a bully as his sons and was probably just as cowardly. He wouldn't do anything but bluff and bluster, Brandon was fairly certain. He put the big man and his twin sons from his mind and focused on getting to class.

  It was lunchtime before Brandon saw Claire. She was waiting at the cafeteria entrance when Brandon got there, dressed in a light blue sweater and jeans. Her eye patch was pink, a round eye staring wide from the center. She smiled when she saw Brandon coming, but her smile slipped away when she saw the expression on his face. She said, stepping forward to take his hand. "I was going to tease you for being late this morning, but you look like it was something bad. What happened?"

  "Nothing important." Brandon said, shaking his head and giving Claire's hand a squeeze. "Have you seen Albert?"

  "He went into the cafeteria a few minutes ago." She looked at him, her single green eye curious and worried. "Have the Kruegers been bothering him again?"

  Brandon didn't say anything. He was watching the street that ran the length of the cafeteria. The street was normally closed during school hours, but a black SUV had gone around the arm blocking the street and cruised slowly past the cafeteria. Brandon watched it go by, cutting around the high school parking lot, and felt a momentary sense of disquiet.

  Claire must've sensed his unease, because she said. "Creepy, right? Dad says it's just a team of State Police with one FBI guy helping them out, but it's still spooky."

  "I know what you mean." Brandon said. They went inside, both trying to forget the black car and what it meant. Brandon couldn't help but think of Phillip and strange incident in the boy's storm cellar. He wondered if the other missing children had been investigating the sound of some poor trapped animal when they went missing? He hoped they hadn't suffered, but he couldn't really fool himself into believing that the grohlm treated children any different than they treated men. He'd seen what they did to the men in his vision and he shuddered to think that they did the same to children.

  In the cafeteria, Brandon and Claire got their food and found a spot off to
themselves. Brandon saw Albert across the large room, looking in his direction. The boy saw Brandon looking and dropped his face into his plate, going red. If his arm was hurting him, he didn't show it. Brandon decided that his ears were playing tricks on him when he thought he heard the bone snap. Albert was probably ashamed that he ran, instead of staying to help Brandon. But Brandon didn't blame him. He was glad that Albert had run away, actually. It made it easier for Brandon to fight if he didn't have to worry about somebody besides himself getting hurt.

  When they sat down, Claire leaned over and said. "So, have you decided what we're going to dress up as? For the Halloween dance, I mean?"

  Brandon blinked at her. "I figured they were going to cancel it, because of the disappearances?"

  Claire shook her head. "No. They're going to go ahead and have it. Some of the parents wanted to cancel, but Mr. Marcus talked them onto going ahead. He said that with all the bad things going on around us, we needed some sort of normalcy, even if it was just a school dance. They're just going to make sure that there are plenty of adults there. Teachers and parents, to watch out for the students coming and going."

  Brandon shook his head. "They should have canceled it. There's no way that they can watch all the kids, all the time."

  Claire leaned over. She said, smiling at him. "Guess we'll have to go then, huh?"

  Brandon frowned at her. "I'll have to go, you mean? You're going to stay home. And be safe and warm, while I'm playing bodyguard to a cafeteria full of kids."

  "Oh, really? And how EXACTLY are you going to stop me from going? And I suppose I'll need your permission to leave my house too? Maybe you should choose who I vote for too?" She arched an eyebrow at him, her smile frosty. Before he could respond, she broke into fond laugher. "Just wanted you to hear how sexist you just sounded just then, my love. But, seriously, I am going." Claire ate a bit of French fry and said. "I could help. An extra set of eyes could mean the difference between life and death. Well, one extra eye can't hurt." She grinned crookedly.

  "I know." Brandon said, looking at her. He smelled jasmine in her hair as it brushed his shoulder. "But I won't be able to focus as well if I'm worried about you all night."

  "Then don't worry about me." Claire said. She tossed her hair and looked at him. Her smile was wan and beautiful. "If it wasn't for you and your uncle, Emily would be dead. I want to help. And you can use me. You know you can."

  Brandon didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at Claire and thought of the way her lips felt against his. The way they tasted. She met his gaze for a second then dropped her eye, her cheeks going a little bit pink. Brandon said. "I don't want to use you, Claire. But if you want to help, I guess I can't stop you."

  Her smile lit up her face. "Good. Because I have the perfect idea for our costumes."

  Brandon blinked at her. "Perfect?"

  The sun was a bright ball in the sky overhead when the radio crackled to life on Faux's hip, cutting through the uneasy hush hanging over the woods around him. Teague's voice came low and clear. "We may have found something. Over."

  Faux thumbed the radio and spoke into the microphone clipped to his shirt collar. "Copy. I'll head your way." He stood in the middle of the woods, flanked by searchers on either side of him. The men looked to him for direction, so he keyed his radio. "Everybody else hold position until we give the all clear. Stay within sight of each other and come running if your hear gunfire."

  A chorus of "Copy"s came across as Faux moved off in Teague's direction. Or, at least, the direction he thought the acting chief had went. After a couple of minutes of walking and searching, it was Teague who ended up finding him. He called out from where he stood by a tangled copse of trees and brambles. As Faux walked up, Teague crouched and pointed at what looked like a hidden dugout. Covered by broken branches and torn vines, prickly with thorns.

  Faux hunkered down next to Teague and said. "What have you got, Chief?"

  "Acting chief." He said, by rote, before pointing at what looked like the entrance of a tunnel. "I have a feeling we're going to find more dugouts like this all through the woods. The mountains around here have been all mined out. For coal, mostly, though there was iron too. The woods and hills are riddled with caves and sinkholes, perfect for something to hide out in."

  "Shit." Faux said, standing and eyeing the woods around them. It was colder than yesterday, but the sun overhead cut some of the bite out of the wind gusting through the trees, making the back of his neck break out in gooseflesh. He looked at Teague and shook his head. "You know what this means, right?"

  Teague nodded. "We go in after them or we draw them out to us. Either way, men will die."

  "What about gas? Some kind of poison?" Faux asked. "Just toss a couple of canisters into the hole and smoke them out?"

  Teague appeared to consider this for the briefest moment, then shook his head. "It would take calling in Game and Wildlife, maybe even the Corps of Engineers, and there's no way the town council is going to approve that. Unless you have some way to get a hold of a few barrels of pesticide we can use?"

  Faux just shook his head and looked at the ground. He studied the tunnel mouth for a long time before looking up, saying. "There's no way we go underground and not lose somebody."

  Teague said. "I agree."

  "Then we call it a day" Faux said. "Regroup at my hotel later this evening and figure out how we go about drawing these bastards out."

  Teague gave a tight nod before getting on his radio to start reeling in the search party. Faux knelt beside the dugout and peered into the pitch darkness. It wasn't hard to imagine there was something staring back out at him. But was that whispered sound, like raspy laughter, in his mind? Or was it something worse? Something real?

  CHAPTER 7

  Brandon was trying on his costume when Gerrick knocked on his bedroom door and came inside. When the older man saw the green leotard and dark green tunic, his craggy face broke into his version of a grin. "Am I interrupting something?"

  Brandon shook his head. "Just seeing how ridiculous I look in my Halloween costume." He stepped back and posed in front the tall stand mirror that he borrowed from the upstairs guest bathroom. He stood with his fists on his hips, posing heroically. He said. "What do you think? Pretty stupid, eh?"

  "Peter Pan? Sort of ironic, isn't it? Here I am, trying to teach you to be an adult, and you're dressed up as the boy who never grew up." Gerrick crossed his arms and gave his head a rueful shake. "I take it Claire is dressing up as Wendy?"

  "Tinkerbell." Brandon said. He adjusted the belt cinched around his waist and bent to lace up his boots. He was impressed that Gerrick had been able to guess who he was supposed to be. Brandon thought that he looked more like Robin Hood than Peter Pan. He picked up the plastic sword that came with the costume and looked at Gerrick.

  Gerrick smiled again and said. "I might have something better, depending on how well you do in your training tonight?"

  Brandon nodded. "Then let's get to it. Just let me change."

  Brandon stood across from Gerrick, the candlelight reflecting off of the sweat glistening on his chest, and raised his wooden practice sword. The sword felt like it weighed fifty pounds and the tip tried to dip toward the ground, though Brandon didn't let it drop far.

  Gerrick waited for him, balanced on the balls of his feet, his own practice sword held in an attack stance. He wasn't even breathing hard. He stepped sideways, sliding into another stance, and the blade of his sword flickered forward and swept in at Brandon's head.

  Brandon snapped his own blade up and caught the other. Sweeping around and dropping low, he counter attacked and cut at Gerrick's legs. Gerrick hopped above the sweeping bundle of wooden lathes and tapped his own blade against Brandon's shoulder. It was a light tap, but still stung. Brandon had done well not to get tapped very often this evening, though there were small whelps in about a half a dozen places on his chest, back, and arms.

  Brandon twisted, his blade missing the back of Ger
rick's leg by an inch, and danced back a step. Gerrick went on the offensive, his wooden blade a blur as he moved forward.

  Brandon danced backwards, his blade moving on its own to block each strike that came his way. His mind was empty. The little lock box holding all of his fear and doubt closed up tight. He was getting better at achieving emptiness, though it was still difficult to maintain it while fighting Gerrick. The man was just too good with a sword. Brandon did his best to defend from every strike, but he still ended up taking a solid hit to the chest at the end of the attack.

  Gerrick stepped back, letting his sword drop, and said. "That's enough for tonight, I think."

  Brandon stepped back. Using his free hand to massage his chest, he nodded and said. "I'm not going to argue." He started for the patio, leaving Gerrick standing in the center of the circle, but stopped when his uncle spoke behind him.

  "What's left of Matheson's police force is planning a hunt on Halloween night." Gerrick said, bending and putting out the candles. He stopped and looked up at Brandon. "I'm going to shadow them and try to minimize any chance encounters with the grohlm."

  Brandon said. "Do you want me to help?"

  "No." Gerrick said. "I want you to go to the Halloween dance, like you planned. Keep your eyes open and watch out for anything strange. I don't expect the grohlm to try anything at the school. It's too open. Not enough cover."

  "And if they do?" Brandon asked.

  "You'll handle it." Gerrick said. He stepped around Brandon and went into the house. Brandon followed, carrying his practice sword. Inside, Gerrick looked at Brandon and said. "I have something for you. Something to complete your costume."