“What’s wrong?” Robert asked.
Old Ones! Coming!
Robert squinted into the shadows but didn’t see anything.
“On the floor,” Karina said. “Look.”
A tiny puff of fur wobbled toward them. It wasn’t much larger than a pom-pom. Robert lowered the lantern and the little puffball shrieked, as if the light hurt its eyes.
“Whoa, sorry,” he said, dimming the lantern until there was just enough of a glow to find the creature in the dark. “Why, it’s just a baby! Come here, little fella. Don’t be afraid.”
Yes, be afraid, be very afraid—
Robert shook his head. “There’s no way this little puffball broke all those windows.”
“Of course not,” Karina agreed, leaning down for a closer look. “They’re just jealous because he’s cute! He’s like an itty-bitty hamster!”
The puffball crouched low to the ground, shivering on the ice, seemingly terrified. Robert couldn’t help himself. He reached out to pet it and the creature’s mouth sprang open, quick as a mousetrap, revealing two wide rows of fangs. Robert yanked away his fingers just in time.
“Some itty-bitty hamster!” he exclaimed. Now the puffball was snarling at him, enraged at missing an opportunity for a free lunch. Robert turned up the glow of the lantern, and the furball frantically hopped away.
“Uh-oh,” Karina said.
Robert raised the lantern and realized the creature wasn’t alone. There were dozens—no, hundreds—more waiting in the shadows, and most were much bigger. The Old Ones resembled short flat-footed trolls with stumpy arms and legs; their round bodies were covered with matted and tangled fur. As the light reached them, they shrieked and shielded their big black eyes.
“Listen to me very carefully,” Karina said. “Whatever you do, do not drop that lantern.”
“Right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Together they slowly backed up the staircase. Robert waved the lantern back and forth, casting its glow around the cavern to keep the Old Ones at bay. The creatures followed them from a distance, snapping and snarling as if such threats might frighten Robert into dropping the lamp and falling down the steps. Clearly, the trick had worked at least once before, on Dr. William Dyer of Miskatonic University. Robert stepped backward over the professor’s remains, careful not to trip on the bones.
“There must be three hundred of those things,” Karina whispered. “No wonder Pip and Squeak wanted us to see them.”
The Old Ones moved like ants swarming from a nest; they shared a group mentality and advanced in a pack. One of the creatures grabbed Dr. Dyer’s femur and flung it up the stairs; the bone missed Robert by inches.
“Look out!” Karina said.
The others joined in the assault, flinging ribs and vertebrae, screeching taunts and pelting Robert with bones. Dr. Dyer’s skull hit the side of the lantern, nearly shattering it. Robert kicked the skull back at them, toppling the closest creatures like bowling pins.
When he and Karina finally surfaced in the middle of the still-raging blizzard, the Old Ones remained huddled beneath the earth. Karina looked up at the fading sky.
“It’s the daylight,” she said. “They must be waiting for the sun to go down.”
“And then what?”
Karina looked at the shattered windows. “Then I’m guessing they want to join our slumber party.”
Returning to the chemistry lab, Robert and Karina began looking for something that might contain the Old Ones inside the tunnel. Robert considered covering the hole with some kind of obstruction, but he guessed nothing would stop the creatures except light.
“What if we left the lantern?” Karina asked.
He shook his head. “The batteries are dying.”
They searched the lab for batteries, and when that didn’t turn up anything, they switched to looking for an alternative light source. All Robert could find was a red butane lighter, the sort of wand used to light candles and barbecue grills. He clicked it on, and a pale blue flame emerged from the tip.
“Careful,” Karina said.
“Fire would hold them back,” Robert said. “If it burned all night, they would never come inside this room.”
“Fire could also burn down the school,” Karina reminded him. “This is a chemistry lab, remember?”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed.
He remembered that every workstation was equipped with a valve for propane gas. By attaching a Bunsen burner to the valve, students could have a small flame-powered torch for heating beakers and test tubes. Robert assembled a burner to demonstrate, and it produced a steady, tall, yellow flame that illuminated one corner of the classroom.
“We’ll light three more,” Robert decided. “One in each corner. Pip and Squeak can stay here and stand guard. Make sure the flames are under control.” He turned to his pets. “Will you do that for me? Will you come get me if the fires go out?”
Yes okay yes sure.
Karina looked under the countertop, inspecting the large propane tank that fueled the entire lab. “You think there’s enough gas to keep the lights burning all night?”
“We better hope so,” Robert said. “If the Old Ones get inside this building, we’re never getting out.”
It was nearly dark when Robert and Karina finished setting up the Bunsen burners and returned to the cafeteria. Beeswax candles were arranged around the tables, casting the room in a moody, ethereal glow. It felt more like a medieval cathedral than a place where kids feasted on hot dogs and tater tots.
Lionel was standing on a table near the windows, holding a second cell phone above his head. This new phone was housed in a lime green case; it was slightly bigger than the one he’d smashed outside.
“You have two cell phones?” Karina asked.
Lionel shrugged. “It’s the easiest way to back up your data. Everyone in my family has two phones.”
Robert was flabbergasted. Most of the twelve-year-olds he knew would have been thrilled just to have one.
Outside the building, Mac was flailing against the squall, struggling to post sheets of cardboard on the windows. Miss Carcasse watched him struggling and chuckled, as if she found the whole display amusing.
“What’s he doing out there?” Robert asked.
“Hanging up signs,” Miss Carcasse explained. “Alerting rescue workers to our location. Just in case they show up while we’re sleeping.” Mac slipped on an ice patch, falling, and Miss Carcasse chuckled again. It didn’t seem very funny to Robert.
He realized she was holding the gold trinket again—only now, the dial had dropped to 14.
“What is that thing?” he asked.
“Why do you ask so many questions?”
“I’m just curious.”
“It’s a thermometer,” she explained. “It measures temperatures in Celsius, so the numbers are lower than you’re used to.”
“Why do you have a thermometer?”
“Because I like to be aware of my natural surroundings,” she explained. “That’s the problem with young people and all of your electronic gadgets. You’re completely ignorant of the natural world.”
She turned back to the window and absently twirled a length of hair with her finger. Robert watched as she twisted the strand tighter and tighter until the hair popped loose from her skull, leaving a small hole. A pale pink worm wriggled out, twitching this way and that, like it was sniffing the air.
“My goodness, excuse me,” Miss Carcasse said, pressing one hand to the side of her head and limping toward the restroom.
“Was that a worm?” Karina whispered.
“She’s full of them,” Robert said. He explained how he had seen another worm drop out of Miss Carcasse while they were trudging up the driveway.
“Now we know why she wears so much perfume,” Karina said. “She must be rotten on the inside. Some kind of reanimated corpse, like a zombie, disguised with fresh hair and skin.”
This would also explain Miss Carcasse’s strange
walk and bizarre behavior—but Robert didn’t understand why she’d left school when the blizzard started. “If she’s from Tillinghast Mansion, why did she try to leave? Why was she trying to get up the driveway?”
“Maybe her brain’s rotten, too,” Karina said. “Maybe she can’t think straight.”
They went into the kitchen to look for Robert’s mother. They found her standing over a boiling pot, stirring its contents with a long wooden spoon.
“I hope you guys are hungry,” she said.
Real hungry, Robert thought. With all this talk about rotting brains, I’m practically starving.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked.
“The gas still works, so I put together a soup,” she said. “Can you kids set the table?”
She gestured to a stack of napkins, bowls, and plastic sporks. Karina hesitated, so Robert swept in. “I’ll get it,” he said.
He carried everything out to the cafeteria and set a table for six near the windows. Lionel watched him working but didn’t offer to help.
“Any luck with the signal?” Robert asked.
Lionel shook his head. “I wish I could get an Internet connection. If I got a signal, I’d just go on PerfectPrice and hire someone to pick us up.”
“In this weather?” Robert asked. “I doubt it.”
“You can pay anyone to do anything,” Lionel insisted. “That’s the point of PerfectPrice. You can hire any person for any job if you’re willing to pay the perfect price.” He sounded like he was quoting a television commercial.
“And that works?” Robert asked. “People do it?”
“Sure, it works! That’s why my dad’s in the September issue of Fortune magazine. That’s why he’s the 87th Most Powerful Titan in the Tech Industry.” Lionel checked his cell phone and frowned. “But I guess we’re stuck here until the cell phones start working.”
Robert felt like he ought to warn Lionel about the frozen chemistry lab and the Old Ones. Instead, he just said, “I think we’ll be safer tonight if we all stick together. Stay with the group. Don’t go wandering off by yourself.”
“Right,” Lionel said. “Because it’s really cool hanging out with a janitor and a psycho substitute and your mom. No offense.”
Mac came inside, stamping his boots and shaking the snow from his clothes. “There must be two feet out there already,” he said. “That’s practically six inches an hour. It has to be some kind of record.”
Mrs. Arthur emerged from the kitchen as Miss Carcasse returned from the restroom. “You’re just in time for dinner,” she announced. “Let’s eat.”
They all sat down at the table. In addition to the soup, there were all kinds of cafeteria foods: apples, bananas, snack bags of baby carrots, peanut butter crackers, chocolate milk for the kids, and hot tea for the adults.
“This is a feast!” Mac exclaimed. “My compliments to the chef.”
“Well, happy Valentine’s Day,” Mrs. Arthur said. “I tried to make the most of a bad situation.”
Robert tasted his soup. “It’s good.”
“Good? Young man, this is delicious,” Mac said. “This is the best thing I’ve tasted in weeks.”
Mrs. Arthur blushed. “It’s just odds and ends.”
Lionel took a sip, frowned, and set down his spoon. “Is there any pizza?”
Mac grunted. “I’d like to see you cook pizza on a stovetop.”
Miss Carcasse tried lifting her plastic spork but kept dropping it, as if she’d never handled a utensil before. Finally, she pushed her soup away. “I’m afraid my nerves are too jumbled. I don’t think I could keep it down.”
Robert and Karina exchanged skeptical glances. They knew that all of Tillinghast’s creatures hated the taste of cooked food. They preferred the taste of raw meat or, better yet, meat that was still breathing.
Mrs. Arthur turned to Karina. “How about you? Are you feeling better? You haven’t touched your dinner.”
Karina stared helplessly at her spork, but of course she couldn’t touch it. She couldn’t even place her napkin in her lap.
“It looks delicious,” she said, “but I can’t … I just … I’m sorry.”
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Arthur asked. Karina fumbled for a convincing excuse. She looked past Mrs. Arthur to the windows, as if she might find an answer in the snowstorm.
And then she screamed.
Outside the building, a man looked back at her.
He was short, only five feet tall, and completely enshrouded in snow. His face was a void with three small holes: two eyes and a mouth.
He pounded icy fists on the glass.
And then collapsed.
Mac was already on his feet. “Come on,” he told Robert. “I’ll need your help.”
They ran out into the storm. The figure lay immobile at the base of the windows. Mac reached behind his head and peeled back what appeared to be a black ski mask. Underneath was the familiar face of Glenn Torkells.
“Let’s get him inside,” Mac shouted, reaching under Glenn’s shoulders and lifting him off the ground. “Grab his feet.”
Together they carried Glenn into the cafeteria and set him on an empty dining table. Mrs. Arthur sprang into action, calling out for supplies. “Somebody boil water. And bring some candles over here. We need blankets, lots of blankets. And scissors. Something to cut off these clothes. They’re frozen solid.”
As everyone scattered to collect the items, Robert stood over the body of his best friend. Glenn’s eyes opened. His body shook uncontrollably.
“What are you doing here?” Robert asked. “I thought you were taking the bus home.”
“I her-her-heard you were stuck here,” Glenn explained. “The police chief was on the T-T-TV news.”
“So you walked back here in the blizzard? Are you nuts?”
“I had to warn you.”
“Warn me?” Robert asked. “About what?”
“The chief said your mother called him from the school. He said six people were trapped. There had been a car accident.”
“That’s right,” Robert said. “Miss Carcasse was stalled at the bottom of the driveway, and my mother smashed right into her.”
Glenn shook his head. Even though they had brought him indoors, his chills seemed to be getting worse. Like they were overtaking his entire body.
“I saw Miss Carcasse when we were le-le-leaving,” Glenn said. “Ou-ou-out the window of the bus. There was no accident.”
“I saw it,” Robert insisted. “There was definitely an accident.”
Glenn shook his head more frantically. “She did it on purpose,” he explained. “She’s trapped you here for a reason.”
Then he stopped shivering and closed his eyes.
Mrs. Arthur spent the next hour caring for Glenn, cutting off his frozen clothes with kitchen scissors, and then dressing him in the warmest garments that Robert and Karina could find: a wool sweater from the school lost-and-found box, trousers from a marching band uniform, and long sport socks from the gymnasium.
“Is he going to be all right?” Robert asked.
“He’s lucky he’s alive,” Mrs. Arthur said. “I’ve seen twelve-year-olds do a lot of stupid things, but walking through a blizzard takes the cake.”
“Does he need a doctor?”
“His pulse is low, but it’s getting stronger. His temperature’s almost back to normal. Hopefully he just needs rest, because I’ve done everything we can do for him.”
They had moved to the basketball gym for the evening, and Mac dragged out tumbling mats for everyone to sleep on. Boys on one side of the court, girls on the other.
Miss Carcasse seemed confused. “We’re all sleeping together? In the same room?”
“It’s safer this way,” Mac said. “In case there’s an emergency.”
Robert thought of the Old Ones lurking just outside the chemistry lab and the propane burners keeping them at bay. “I agree with Mac,” he said. “I’ll feel a lot safer if we’re all in the same room. W
ith the doors locked.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Miss Carcasse said. “What if a rescue crew arrives? How do you expect them to find us? These doors should be unlocked at all times.”
“I’ve left signs outside,” Mac reminded her. “If anyone comes, they’ll know exactly where to find us.”
Miss Carcasse looked around in frustration, but it seemed everyone in the group agreed with Mac. “Suit yourselves,” she shrugged. “In the end, your actions have no meaningful consequences. Your fates were decided long ago.”
She lay down on her mat without any blankets or even a jacket, then crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. It wasn’t even seven-thirty, yet Miss Carcasse immediately went to sleep.
“She’s just tired,” Mrs. Arthur decided. “It’s been a long day.”
“A very long day,” Mac agreed.
He placed the lantern on the half-court line, directly between the two groups. Mac had replaced the batteries with new ones, but still the lantern wasn’t much brighter than a candle. In the vast gymnasium, it looked like a tiny campfire on a sprawling open plain.
Robert and his mother paced in circles to stay warm. The temperature inside was dropping with every passing minute, and they were all wearing extra sweatshirts borrowed from the school store. Mac went out to the vending machines to collect some junk food, but they found most of it was frozen solid. Lionel bit into an Oreo and nearly chipped his tooth.
“That’s it,” he decided. “I’m going to bed.”
Mac offered him a choice of blankets: heavy black drapes from the school theater, colorful patchwork quilts from the art room, heavy-duty plastic trash bags, terrycloth towels from the swimming pool, and more paint-spattered drop cloths from the janitor’s lounge.
“Use as many layers as you can stand,” Mac advised him. “It’s important that you stay warm.”
Lionel didn’t seem pleased with any of the choices, but he took a trash bag and a drop cloth and stomped off toward his mat without saying goodnight to anyone.
Substitute Creature Page 5
