Banshee Worm King: Book Five of the Oz Chronicles

by R. W. Ridley

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She nodded.

  “If you could go back to the way things were before this all started, would you?”

  Her smile changed to a confused grin. “Of course I would.”

  “Even if going back meant that you wouldn’t know any of us; Wes, Tyrone, Ajax... me?”

  “We were meant to be together... all of us, I mean. I just know it. We would find each other eventually.”

  I shrugged. “But what if some of us couldn’t go back with you?”

  “What do you mean? Why couldn’t you go back with me?”

  I shook my head. “Never mind... I should check on Gordy.”

  I headed for the door, but stopped when she said, “I wouldn’t go.”

  I turned to her.

  “I couldn’t go without you. You’re not just someone that survived the end of the world with me. You’re why I want to survive the end of the world.”

  “You mean all of us, right?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but mostly I meant you.”

  I stood and stared at her. A breeze blew her hair across her face. Her eyes were startlingly blue, and with the exception of her lips, her cheeks were naturally redder than the rest of her face. “I remember when I first saw you. You were this dirty little mute kid that annoyed the crap out of me.”

  “Well, if I remember right, you were stealing our Pop-Tarts.”

  “You took to Nate right away.”

  She smiled. “I was terrified for him because it was pretty obvious you didn’t know how to take care of a baby.”

  I laughed. “That’s true.”

  “Look at us now.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “look at us now.” Before leaving I looked her square in the eyes. “This might be wrong to say, but...” I hesitated.

  “Say it,” she said pleaded.

  “The fact that the world ended wasn’t all bad.”

  A startled expression spread across her face again. “What do you mean?”

  “I got to kiss you.” I left before she could respond.

  Six

  That night I saw Ajax sitting by himself in the corner of the room. He was gone, lost in his thoughts, and I knew what he was thinking about. He was replaying Kimball’s last moments in his head. I knew that’s what he was doing because I had been doing the same thing right up until the point I noticed him. I blamed him for Kimball’s death, and I had a pretty good idea he blamed himself.

  I suppose if I wanted to be fair I would have realized that there wasn’t anything Ajax could have done to save Kimball. It all happened so quickly. But I wasn’t interested in being fair. Right or wrong, I wanted to blame somebody. Ajax was right there. He saved me. Why couldn’t he have saved Kimball?

  A horrible thought hit me as I stared at Ajax. I wasn’t just mad at him. I hated him. I knew it was wrong. He was Ajax. I owed him my life, many times over.

  That didn’t matter to me. What mattered to me is that I looked down by my feet and my dog wasn’t there, sleeping away, snorting and huffing in his sleep, dreaming about chasing rabbits and playing in the backyard of our old house. He wasn’t there. He should have been.

  I stopped looking at Ajax because part of me thought he could feel the hatred I was sending his way. I didn’t like feeling the way I felt about him. I was hoping it would pass, but I didn’t think I would ever be able to forgive him.

  Wes was sitting on the floor propped up against the wall next to Gordy. His eyelids looked heavy, and he struggled to keep them open.

  Lou sat on a chair next to him staring at the front door. She was worried about Tyrone. All of us were worried and mad. He was a selfish jerk for taking off like that. I didn’t care that he was grief-stricken about Valerie. That was no excuse.

  I looked to the other side of the room and saw April and Bostic huddled close together over what looked to be two piping hot cups of tea. If I didn’t know better, I would say they were two old friends hanging out in a coffee shop talking about their day. I don’t know why, but I didn’t like them being so chummy.

  A loud thump outside the front door got everyone’s attention. Ariabod was the first to move to the door. We all approached behind him. He grunted and then pulled back the door.

  Tyrone rushed past him with something cradled in his arms. He was still wearing the harness for the zip line.

  “Where have you been?” Lou said chasing after him.

  “I got it,” he said. “I got the little piss-ant!”

  “Got what?” I asked.

  He dropped what he was carrying in his arms on the counter in front of Bostic and April.

  “Oh my God,” April said. “What is that thing?”

  “You killed it?” Bostic stepped back. “How?”

  I reached the counter and froze when I saw the thing Tyrone had carried in. It was the monkey, only it wasn’t a monkey at all. It was a total freak show. It had the body of a long thin monkey, but the hair that covered its body was thin and patchy. Its head was basically a slimy white ball. And a row of eyes circled its slimy head.

  “I saw it jumping through the trees after we got Gordy inside,” Tyrone said. “It was going over the top of the house, so I just walked through the house, out the front door and zipped across to the other platform. I figured if I waited there long enough, I’d spot it in the trees again.” He smiled broadly. He hadn’t smiled in so long it was odd to see the expression work its way across his face. “I only had to wait about ten minutes or so. It came bouncing overhead. Didn’t even notice me. I followed it as quietly as I could across the treeway. About five or six platforms over, it jumped down on the deck ahead of me. Still didn’t know I was there even with all those eyes. I didn’t give it time to climb back up in the trees. I jumped on the little creep. Stabbed it through the head.” He pointed to the now noticeable wound on the side of its grotesque head.

  I leaned down and examined the wound. I pushed on it lightly. The head felt like a slimy pillow.

  Tyrone saw the confused expression on my face and said, “Weird, right? There’s no bone, no skull.”

  Lou leaned in. “It looks like...” she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  “It looks like what them worms are made of,” Wes said. “The head anyway.”

  Lou nodded. “That’s what I was going to say.”

  “Wait, wait,” April said. “Are you saying this thing is a worm?”

  “No,” I said. “Not a worm, not exactly. I’m betting they’re related to the worms in some way though.” I thought it over. “This thing lived in the trees, right?”

  “Yeah,” Wes said.

  “The worms are underground. They surface to eat whatever is above ground.”

  “So,” Tyrone said.

  “So not everything lives on the ground. Some of the food lives in the trees.” I pointed to Bostic. “Even some people.”

  Lou said, “I get it. This worm-head feeds the Banshees. It knocks animals... and people out of the trees so they can eat.”

  “Holy crap,” Wes said. “That’s brilliant.”

  “That’s terrifying,” April said.

  “One thing I don’t understand,” I said looking at Bostic.

  “What?” he asked.

  “When Wes and I zipped back over to the platform to help you the other day, you said it was new. You hadn’t seen it before.”

  “I hadn’t.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Bostic chuckled. “Good luck trying to make sense out of anything that goes on around here. If you’re right about this thing, it could be that food on the ground was getting scarce, so the Banshees adapted. Grew one of these things to round up some food. Ain’t you ever heard of evolution? That’s how it works.”

  “So there’s only one of these things?” April said hopefully.

  “Don’t know,” Tryone said. “But this thing was going somewhere. Could be he was looking for his buddies.”

  April groaned. “Just say ‘Yes’ next
time I ask you a question like that. I don’t need to know there might be more of these things out there. Holy crap!”

  “What do we do with it?” Lou asked.

  Tyrone shrugged. “Eat it?”

  “Gross!” April said.

  “Yeah, I’ve gotta agree,” Wes said. “That’s not the most appealing proposal I’ve heard.”

  “But that’s what we’re here for,” Tyrone said looking at Bostic. “Right?”

  Bostic crossed his arms and said, “That was the idea, but I’m not too sure about this thing. It’s more bone than meat, ‘cept for the head, and I ain’t got no interest in eating that head.”

  “Again,” April said, “gross!”

  I picked it up. “I’ve got an idea.” I walked to the backdoor of the treehouse and pulled it open.

  “What are you doing?” Lou asked leading the others as they followed.

  “I’m going to send it back where it came from.” I walked on the deck and hurried to the railing. I leaned over the top and tossed the monkey-worm to the ground below.

  We all watched the ground, waiting for the worms to surface.

  “Nothing’s happening,” Lou said.

  Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, a white mound poked through the ground next to the monkey. The worm stretched to a height of three feet. It seemed to be sniffing the air. Bending down, it ran its end across the dead monkey.

  “Is it smelling it?” Tyrone asked.

  “Looks like,” Bostic said.

  The worm stretched upward again and opened its mouth. To everyone’s complete horror and surprise, it let out a long mournful cry.

  The blood drained from April’s face. “Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s sad!”

  “Who cares,” Tyrone said. He stepped forward and leaned over the railing farther than anyone else. “I killed your sick little monkey thing, worm! Tyrone killed your monkey!”

  I pulled him back. “What are you doing?”

  “Letting that piece of crap know I killed its monkey, and I’m going to kill it the first chance I get!”

  The worm let out a warbled moan. It almost sounded like it said an actual word. It repeated the sound.

  “Good gravy,” Wes said. “That thing just said... Tyrone’s name.”

  Tyrone’s mouth fell open. He looked scared for the first time in a long time.

  The worm bent forward and gently took the monkey into its mouth. It disappeared underneath the ground.

  ***

  “Worm’s don’t talk,” Tyrone said sitting on the floor near Gordy.

  “Worms don’t grow as big as a man and have teeth like sharks either,” Wes said.

  Bostic entered the house from the back door. I saw Ariabod casually following him. Lou had talked to him about her suspicions, and it looked like he thought she made a good case.

  “So, what do we do?” Tyrone asked.

  “First thing,” Wes said, “is for you to stop popping off like a fool hot head. You ain’t doing anybody a lick of good with your attitude. Now you got them worms all riled up. They know your name, son. And by golly, that can’t be a good thing.”

  I waited for Tyrone to bark back at Wes, but he didn’t. He shrugged. “I expect you’re right about that.”

  “What’s done is done,” I said. “We’ve got to start working on our plan to take those things out.”

  “About that,” Wes said. He couldn’t bring himself to look at me.

  “What about that?” I asked.

  “I may have let my emotions get the best of me before.”

  I gritted my teeth. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying it would be more than foolish to tangle with those things. Maybe we should help Bostic on a hunt or two and move on.”

  “But those things killed Kimball,” I said.

  “And I am torn up about that Oz. I’m telling you true on that, boy, but those things are like little demon submarines that come out of the ground without no notice at all. I just don’t see how we can fight them without losing a body or two in the process. And frankly, getting Lou or Gordy or Tyrone or me killed going after those things ain’t gonna make you feel better about losing Kimball.”

  “You afraid?” I asked.

  “Hell, yes I’m afraid,” Wes said. “And I’m a little concerned that you don’t appear to be. Fear is a good thing, Oz. It’s what keeps you alive.”

  “They killed Kimball,” I said with more conviction than I had ever spoken before. My face was hot, and I felt the blood rushing to my temples.

  “Settle down, son,” Wes said placing his hand on my shoulder. “I get it. I swear I do.” He sighed and removed his hand. “I’m in on this if we do it my way. Safe.”

  I calmed myself. “I’m listening.”

  Wes scratched the fat under his chin. “The way I figure it, those things come from somewhere. They ain’t just waiting out there underground waiting for food to drop. They gotta have a den or lair or something somewhere.” He leaned back as if he’d said something beyond important.

  Tyrone and I shared a glance.

  I finally said, “And?”

  “And,” Wes said. “Well, I ain’t exactly thought too far ahead of that. I’m in the early stages of my plan, but I’m of the mind that finding them is more prudent than them finding us.”

  Bostic approached Gordy with his bottle of whiskey and sat down next to the cot. He soaked a cloth with the alcohol and carefully applied it to Gordy’s wound.

  “We need more information from him,” I said pointing at Bostic.

  “Forget it,” Bostic said.

  I was surprised by his response because I didn’t think he could hear me.

  “I’m not helping you get your people killed.”

  “Then you might want to tell us what you know because we’re going after those things with or without you,” I said.

  He shook his head. “You’re about as thick-headed a kid as I’ve ever known. In my experience, thick heads usually get chopped off.”

  “Do they have a lair?” I asked.

  Gordy’s eyes fluttered and he smiled. “You might as well answer him, giant dude. He’ll just keep asking until you do. That’s what he does.”

  “Fine,” Bostic said, “I don’t know. I’ve never been dumb enough to look for a lair.”

  I stood and approached him. “All your people got taken here?”

  “How do you think this place became their feeding grounds?” His face looked vacant.

  “What haven’t you told us about them?”

  He eyes floated toward me. “They weren’t always the way they are now.”

  “In what way?”

  “In every way. They were nothing but night crawlers not too long ago. Little bitty things. Good size for fishing, but nothing more.”

  “What changed?” Wes asked.

  “Not sure,” Bostic said. “One day, I was out dumping trash into the compost we built underneath the tree. Reached in to turn and aerate the pile. Felt a sharp pain in my finger and yanked it back. Wouldn’t you know one of those little suckers had grown teeth and latched onto me.” He held up his finger to show us that he still had a scar from the incident. “We were all kind of baffled by it, but we didn’t pay much attention. Some of us even thought it was kind of funny.”

  “Funny?” Tyrone said.

  “Funny’s not the right word, I guess. We were amused by it. It was strange enough to be interesting, but they were just earthworms with teeth. Easy enough to avoid.”

  He shifted his eyes about as his brain popped off the memories. “We had typical forest critters in this area back then. Used to stand on that back deck and watch a mess of squirrels hop and scurry about below. Kind of a peaceful way to pass the time.” He pursed his lips and shifted in his seat as if he was seeing something unpleasant. “One day this squirrel, Bonnie-Dale, I called her, after this woman that taught my Sunday school class when I was kid. Well, Bonnie-Dale came hopping off the tree and hopped over to a pile of acorns. S
he sat there nibbling away. That’s the first time I saw the ground move. A night crawler as big as a housecat exploded out of the ground and bit Bonnie-Dale in half.” He snapped his fingers. “Quick as that.”

  The snap of his fingers jolted us all.

  “We didn’t think they were so amusing after that. Stayed on our toes when we had to go below. They’d take a bite out of one of us from time to time, but we managed to avoid getting seriously hurt.”

  “Until?” I asked.

  “Until Miss Maggie Green decided to go below by herself one night. Wasn’t gone five minutes before we heard her scream. By the time we made it outside, we saw her being dragged beneath the soil.” He cleared his throat and looked at me. “You asked what I know about them. I know they started off small and they’re getting bigger all the time. Wouldn’t surprise me if they reach the deck out there in about two or three month’s time.”

  Gordy sat up in his bed and looked at his leg. “Whatever that stuff you’re putting on my leg is, it stinks.”

  Bostic held up the bottle. “Homemade brew. It’s called backwoods blackjack.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Pretty much anything that will ferment.”

  Gordy’s wound was looking much better, but seeing it reminded me of something Bostic had said. “Why did they go after Gordy?”

  “What do you mean?” Bostic asked.

  “You said that they’d leave him alone because of his wound. I thought he would be safe.”

  Bostic shrugged. “Could be because his wound is getting better. He doesn’t smell like death warmed over anymore. Could be because they got into a feeding frenzy here. This is their grounds. I told you I ain’t got all the answers on those things.” He stood and headed for the kitchen. “Tomorrow we hunt.”

  “We do?” Wes asked.

  “That was the agreement. I give you shelter. You help me hunt.”

  “I remember,” Wes said, “but why tomorrow? From what I can see, you’ve got plenty of food.”

  “There’s been a patrol of Myrmidons camped out three ridges over. I’ve been watching them. All but two leave the camp for hours every three days. They’re hunting for something in this area. Not sure what, but it’s good for us. We can take out the two Myrmidons left behind to guard their camp.”