by Cullen Bunn
Instead of an arm, I uncovered an aluminum baseball bat beneath the clothes. It was a beauty, too, but not what I’d expected.
I heard a noise, and turned around.
Beneath the unmade covers on the bed, something moved.
I wasn’t alone in the house after all!
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE BEDCOVERS MOVED, and I heard a soft snoring. Hatch was home after all—sleeping in the very room I was in! I quickly covered the flashlight with my hand. I’d been making quite a bit of noise already, but now I started to move more slowly, more quietly. He snorted and stirred. For a dreadful second, I feared he might be waking up, and if he caught me in his room he’d kill me for sure.
Slowly... very slowly... I flipped the flashlight’s power button. The snap! seemed deafening. Some moonlight filtered in between the curtains on the bedroom window, but it wasn’t much.
I wrapped my hand around the aluminum baseball bat. I’d need something to defend myself with if he actually woke up.
When I looked up again, a squeak of fear escaped my throat.
Hatch stared right at me.
He had rolled in my direction, and his eyes were wide open.
I looked around the room, checking the exit. Hatch was bigger and faster than me, and he knew the house a lot better than I did. There was no way I’d be able to outrun him. My mind raced, trying to zone in on a possible excuse, but I knew Hatch would never give me the chance.
He stayed still, staring at me. Taking his sweet time as he figured out how to kill me, I guessed. Any second and he’d be out of bed, barreling right at me with the speed and force of a runaway freight train, and he’d—
He snored.
He was still asleep!
Asleep with his eyes open! I’d heard that some people did that. Seeing it in person, I thought it was kind of creepy, like looking at a dead body—only a dead body that snored like a chainsaw.
It didn’t matter, though. I wanted to get out of his room as quickly as possible. Keeping the flashlight covered, I tiptoed backwards. There was no point in searching his room any further. The arm wasn’t there.
My every muscle quivered. I had almost been caught, no doubt about it. That was too close for comfort.
If my brother’s life didn’t hang in the balance, I would have gotten out of the house as quickly as possible. As it was, I felt like I probably searched the rest of the place too quickly. The only room left was the basement, and as I tiptoed down the creaking stair my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. One wrong move and I might wake Hatch. If he caught me...
Well, I didn’t like to think what he might do.
The musty basement was full of boxes stacked precariously in the corners. An old clothes washer leaked a rivulet of water across the concrete floor, down a rusty drain hole. The drier must not have been working because clotheslines had been strung back and forth across the room, shirts and jeans and undergarments dangling from the lines like phantoms. I thought for certain I’d find the arm tucked into a corner like a macabre prize.
I didn’t know what the Crewes family had planned for the arm. Maybe they were up to the same foul business as old Mrs. Brewster. Maybe they wanted to bring Maddie back to life in hopes she would bestow them with fame and fortune like some genie from the lamp.
I started back up the creaking stairs. Each step seemed to groan more loudly on the way up. I flinched with each awful creak, certain Hatch would hear and awaken, maybe lock me in the basement until his brother returned so they could rough me up together. My fear almost froze my muscles, and I had to urge myself to keep moving.
“Come on,” I said to myself. “Almost there.”
I slipped out the way I came in, finding Lisa waiting for me.
“You took long enough,” she said. “I was almost ready to come in after you.”
“I wanted to search as carefully as possible,” I explained, “and I had to keep pretty quiet. Hatch is in there. Luckily, he was sleeping. He almost woke up, but I think he can sleep through anything!”
“What did you do?” She looked at the aluminum bat I still carried. “Club him to death?”
“Of course not.” I leaned the bat against the porch railing and hopped down the steps. “It was just for protection.”
“Couldn’t find the arm?” she asked.
I shook my head sadly. “If they have it, they’ve hidden it really well.”
“What do we do now?”
“I’m not sure. If we come back empty-handed, Mrs. Brewster will kill Alex... and probably the rest of us, too. Maybe we should just try to rescue him again.”
“Yeah, right.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “That worked out so well for us last time.”
I tried to keep calm.
“You think the arm might be in one of the sheds?” Lisa asked.
“Something like that would be too valuable to keep out in some shed.” I kicked at the dirt. “They must have just hidden it really well.”
“Maybe they don’t know what they have.”
“They’d almost have to know, wouldn’t they? You don’t just find a disembodied arm and think nothing of it, especially with all the legends in the area. Unless...” A new thought dawned in my mind. “Lisa, you’re a genius!” I exclaimed, probably a little too loudly.
“I am?” she asked. A splash of red colored her freckled cheeks.
“They don’t have it in the house,” I said, “because they don’t even know about it!”
“But you said the fetch was searching for it.”
“Right, but it wasn’t concerned with the house, not really, and Greg chased it off before it could figure out how to get into the shed.”
“The shed?”
“The building’s new, right? I think they built it right on top of the spot where the arm was buried.”
I saw the light come on in Lisa’s eyes. We raced to the shed.
The structure was only big enough to hold Greg’s car, but that left a lot of ground to cover in finding the arm. A few tools were propped in the web-shrouded corner. I took a shovel and paced around the room, examining the earthen floor closely.
“What are you looking for?” Lisa asked.
“To be honest, I’m not sure,” I said.
I paced around the room, shining the flashlight across the oil stained ground.
“Come on, Maddie,” I whispered under my breath. “Give me a sign, will ya?”
I noticed little sprigs of grass and weeds breaking through the soil here and there. It wasn’t much. The vegetation had a hard time growing in the shade. But as I looked around, I noticed one area where the weeds didn’t grow at all. It was a rectangular patch of earth, and the grass surrounding it was dry and brown.
I struck the earth with the shovel.
“I think the arm is here,” I told Lisa. “Play lookout for me again. Yell if you see Hatch come out of the house or Greg driving back.”
The point of the shovel drove into the earth.
I started to dig.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I DIDN’T KNOW HOW DEEP the witch’s arm might be buried, but I dug quickly, throwing clods of dirt behind me. Within minutes, sweat ran down my face in sticky, dirty sheets, streaming into my eyes and burning. I wiped my eyes with the back of my arm but kept at my chore. I didn’t have time to rest. Greg Crewes might be home at any minute, and my little brother’s life depended on me.
Lisa lurked just inside the door, pacing back and forth nervously, dividing her time between watching the house and the road.
After a while, I started to doubt the arm was here after all. I was just about to give up and try to devise another plan when the tip of the shovel grated against something. I dropped the shovel and fell to my knees, scooping dirt out of the hole with my hands.
“I think I’ve found it,” I called to Lisa.
She came away from the door and joined me as I trudged handfuls of cool dirt from the hole. The soil jammed under my fingernail
s and caught in the hairs of my forearm. I wrapped my fingers around something soft and brittle, like termite-eaten timber. I brushed even more dirt away from the shape and saw the outline of the arm—and fingers! I reached in with both hands and pulled Maddie Someday’s withered limb from the ground.
“That’s disgusting!” Lisa said.
Seeing Maddie’s corpse from a distance was one thing, but examining the decaying flesh up close was altogether different. Most of the gray skin had flaked away, and damp soil formed a kind of flesh on the bone. Here and there, I saw what looked like the remains of skin, of muscle, of cartilage. The arm smelled horrible, and I gagged a little when I took a whiff. On the skeletal ring finger clung a mass of dirt. I gently brushed it away with my dirt-caked fingers. As the dirt fell away, a reddish gleam showed through. She was still wearing her infamous ring—the ring children watched for at night. Using a little spit, I cleaned it off as best I could. The large red stone had been etched with the same symbol Mrs. Brewster had scratched into my hand.
Lisa and I looked at each other in disbelief. We were holding the arm of the reviled Maddie Someday. Shortly, we’d be taking it to a woman who intended to bring Maddie back from the dead!
“Let’s get this thing to Mrs. Brewster,” I said.
Lisa nodded. She gathered a few greasy rags from a pile in the corner. She tossed them to me.
“Wrap it up in those,” she said. “I don’t even like to look at it.”
I bundled the filthy rags around the arm. I stood up and brushed dirt from my knees. I carried the arm—Lisa didn’t want to have anything to do with it.
Just then, we heard the crunch of gravel beneath tires.
Blinding light flooded the shed.
The Firebird sped toward us, chewing the driveway like candy.
I stepped out in front of Lisa as the car sped forward. It wouldn’t do much good. If I got mashed flat, chances were she would too.
I held my hand up to block the painful glare of the headlights.
Through the windshield, I saw Greg clutching the steering wheel like a race car driver. His double row of teeth, clenched tight and showing through his sneer, matched the menacing, toothy expression of the car’s grille.
He’s not stopping, I thought.
But the brakes caught hold of the gravel, sending pebbles skittering out from under the car. The Firebird lurched to a halt no more than a foot away from me. I felt heat roll out of the grille and wash over me. My legs felt a little weak. Even though Greg hadn’t squashed us, we were in no less danger. The car filled the shed’s doorway, leaving only a little room to inch past on either side. Greg opened the driver’s side door, effectively cutting off one half of our escape route. I quickly hid the severed arm behind my back.
He climbed from the car, standing up behind the open door.
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” he growled.
“This isn’t as bad as it looks.” As soon as I said it, I realized only really guilty people said things like that. “We were just leaving.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Greg said. “Why’s there a hole dug in the middle of the floor? What are you trying to pull? What have you got behind your back?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“If you’re stealing something, I swear—”
“We’re not stealing anything,” Lisa snapped. “Just leave us alone.”
Greg slammed the door shut and stepped toward me. He held out his hand, wiggling his fingers in a “give me” motion. “What’s behind your back?” he asked again. “Whatever it is, you’re not leaving here with it, at least not alive.”
My legs tensed. As Greg took another menacing step, I scrambled to the other side of the car. Lisa made a break for it. Just when I thought I might escape, Greg dove for me, grabbed me by the elbow, and jerked me back. He almost tore my arm out of the socket.
Lisa quick-drew her slingshot and aimed it at Greg.
“Drop it!” he said. He gave my arm a twist, and I cried out in pain. “Drop it or I’ll rip his arm off.”
Now, that’s funny! I thought.
Well, it might have been funny if my arm didn’t feel like it was about to break.
Lisa grimaced. She still pointed the slingshot at Greg, but her arms trembled.
“I mean it,” he said, twisting my arm again. I squeaked out an “Ouch!” I was surprised I managed to hold onto Maddie’s arm.
Reluctantly, Lisa dropped the slingshot to the dirt.
“Now let’s see what you have there,” Greg said. He yanked the rags away from the arm. His grip on me tightened. “What in the world?”
And then he started gasping for air.
Maddie Someday’s arm moved on its own accord, jerking in spasms as it leapt from my grasp. Its fingers clasped onto Greg’s throat and started to squeeze.
Greg let go of me and tried to tear the skeletal arm away from his throat. The more he fought, though, the tighter the witch’s arm clenched. Greg stumbled and fell back against the hood of his car.
He wheezed. His eyes started to roll back, revealing only the whites. The arm continued to crush his windpipe.
It was going to kill him!
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
PART OF ME WANTED TO LET THE CLAWED HAND choke the life out of Greg. From day one, Greg had been nothing but trouble for me and my family and friends. In just a few seconds more, Maddie Someday’s arm would change all that forever. But I couldn’t just sit idly by and watch him die, no matter how awful of a bully he might be.
Greg’s eyes bulged in the sockets and frothy spittle clung to his lips. His face turned dark red, almost purple. He clawed at the disembodied hand as the decaying fingers continued to crush his throat.
“Do something!” Lisa cried.
I grabbed Maddie’s arm and tried to tear it free. I couldn’t believe how strong the mummified limb was. I tugged as hard as I could, but it wouldn’t come off.
“Help!” I cried to Lisa.
Even with Lisa helping me pull at the witch’s arm, I couldn’t free Greg.
Greg Crewes kicked and squirmed. He thrashed about, elbowing me in the chin as he flopped off the hood of the car and fell to the ground. I bit my tongue, tasted blood, and staggered back.
Lisa scrambled after Greg, throwing her body over his to keep him still while she tried to pry the arm off. Up until then, she would barely even look at the arm, but now she wrestled with it. I rushed back to Greg’s side, working my fingers in between Maddie’s digits and his throat. Greg wheezed in a breath, but the dead witch’s fingers tightened like a vice. I barely pulled my hand away before she mashed my bones to jelly.
“What’s going on here?” I heard someone cry.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw Hatch standing in the doorway. He still looked sleepy, and he wore only a pair of sweat pants. All the noise must have finally awakened him.
“Help us!” I cried.
His eyes grew large when he saw his brother. We must have looked like we were attacking him. Hatch charged.
“Wait—”
He slammed into me with all the force of a football player tackling a practice dummy. He drove me back, off of his brother, and into the wall. The air left my lungs with a whoof! and I slid down the wall to a seated position.
“Hatch,” Lisa cried. “We’re trying to help him! Please!”
Hatch moved away from me. I groaned. I felt like some of my ribs were cracked.
“Get off him!” Hatch shoved Lisa. She sprawled on her butt to the hard packed earth. Hatch squatted beside his brother, and a look of horror spread across his face. He, too, tried to remove the arm, but couldn’t.
After a couple of minutes, Greg lay still.
I struggled to my feet, clutching at my side. I didn’t think my ribs were broken after all, but they hurt, especially when I took a deep breath. I stepped toward Greg and Hatch. Hatch lay over his brother’s body, as if trying to protect it from the elements. Lisa stood a few feet away, sobbing.
Maddie’s arm lay nearby, as still as it had been when I first unearthed it.
“Is he—” I started to ask, but the words trailed off.
Hatch was crying, too, I realized. His face lay on his brother’s chest, and he wept.
He was crying so hard he didn’t notice—
“He’s still breathing,” I said.
Hatch raised his head and looked at his brother. Greg’s chest rose and fell as he took slow, deep breaths. Maddie had only choked him into unconsciousness. Hatch started to shake him, trying to wake him up. I didn’t want to be around when he came to.
I scooped up Maddie’s arm in one hand and grabbed Lisa by the elbow with the other.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
Lisa stared at Greg for a second or two.
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” she asked.
What do you care? I thought. He got what he deserved.
I actually had to fight to keep those words from popping out of my mouth. That scared me a little. I wondered if it had something to do with the witch’s mark on my hand.
What I actually said was, “He’s fine, but we have to go if we’re going to save Alex.”
While Hatch was preoccupied with his brother, we took off through the woods, taking the last piece of a dead body jigsaw puzzle back to Mrs. Brewster.
CHAPTER THIRTY
WE MADE PRETTY GOOD TIME through the woods, mainly because we had a couple of ticked-off brothers behind us and another brother—mine—in mortal danger in front of us. Lisa took the lead, because I still couldn’t find my way around very easily. I wrapped both of my arms around Maddie Someday’s severed limb and clutched it close to my chest. With every step, the hand—the hand that had almost taken Greg Crewes’ life—bounced up and down loosely on the wrist, like it was waving goodbye to someone. The red ring glinted in the moonlight.
Before we reached the witch house, Lisa paused to lean against a tree and catch her breath. Taking a break sounded wonderful, but I wanted to get back as soon as I could and rescue Alex.
