by Joey W. Hill
"Aren’t we more fun than Tracy’s party?"
Jen blew smoke in his face. "Not really," she said. He backed off, coughing, but the smirk didn’t waiver. He picked up a coil of rope. The stench of oil flared Sam’s nostrils.
"He-ll-oo? Is anyone going to answer my question or are you guys in a trance?" she snapped.
"C’mere, Jen," Reg invited. He held out a hand.
The cat quieted, but its thrashing brought Sam the smell of its fear. Sam eyed the bag. There was the possibility he could make a dash into the clearing, pull it down and make a run for it while they were still off balance. He was sure he knew the woods better. The sack was tied to the branch with a simple bowline, easy to pull off. The muscles in Sam’s jaw tightened. Either that cat was getting away, or he was going to get the piss kicked out of him. Sam just hoped the odds would be three against one, not four.
Jen skirted the duffel bag. "You should let him go, Reg. He stinks. He’s messed himself."
"Soon enough." He caught her hand. Sam could see both of their faces from his spot. His mind calculated the intent in Reg’s even as his heart imprinted every emotion crossing Jen’s. Neither expression brought him a great deal of comfort.
"I’m glad you came with us tonight, instead of going to Tracy’s," Reg told her.
A light stain rose in Jen’s cheeks and she looked off to the right, directly at Sam. As usual, she didn’t see him. For once, it was a blessing.
"Well,…" she shrugged. She looked back at Reg and there was something softer to her smile. "I’m glad I came, too. I’m just not into this cat thing, Reg. What are you going to do to him?"
"Girls are so soft," Todd scoffed.
Reg’s mouth lifted in what passed as a grin. He looked like he was baring his teeth. He stood up, his chest brushing Jen’s as he rose. She had her cigarette to her lips. His fingers closed over hers and he grazed his index finger over her lips.
"You talk too much, Todd," Reg said. He pinched the butt from her grasp and flicked outward, sending the cigarette spinning.
"Fire in the hole, guys."
Flames spouted out of the ground. "Jesus!" Todd leaped back and Jason kicked the last section of oil-soaked rope into the trench. The fire grasped it and enclosed the clearing in a circle in the space of a breath, strobing everyone with flickering shadows.
Sam scrambled backwards to maintain his cloak of darkness. Jennifer shrieked and stumbled forward into Reg.
"Thanks a hell of a lot, Reg," Jason snapped. "You nearly burned the---"
"Oh, shut up. Get the other stuff ready." Reg put a hand on Jen’s neck. Her eyes moved from the lick of flames to his face. Her eyes were as round as the moon riding overhead, and almost as much white was showing.
"Hey, Jen, it’s okay," Reg chuckled. "Relax. We’re just doing a little magic. Do you believe in magic, Jen?"
Smoke tendriled around them, blurring Jen’s features and her reaction. The cat meowed plaintively.
"Are you kidding?" Jen made a breathless hiccup that might have been an attempt at a snort. "That cigarette had a good bit of drag left to it, you know."
Sam saw Reg’s grip tighten on her collarbone, and then his thumb rubbed over her jugular.
Jen pulled back, but didn’t step out of his armspan. "You guys are acting really weird. What are you going to do with the damn cat?" Her voice cracked over the profanity.
Reg grinned. His eyes were lost in caverns of shadow. He looked demonic. "No Halloween is complete without somebody’s cat getting sacrificed."
Jen swallowed. She stepped away from him. "No way," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "No way. I don’t want any part of that. C’mon guys, this is dumb."
"When you sacrifice something," Reg murmured, "You gain power. You get to be invincible for awhile."
Sam tore his attention from Jen and Reg. Jason and Todd were spreading a pea green army blanket inside the circle of fire. Todd reached into a mesh backpack, like the ones used to carry books to school, and withdrew four black candles and a silver bowl.
Fear crawled into Sam’s stomach. Ms. McGady, Laura’s kitchen and the innocent touch of Celia’s hand were suddenly unreal. He had stepped into a nightmare, and become part of the dark landscape of Reg’s mind.
"There are other ways to get power," Reg purred. He moved in on Jen again. When he touched her shoulder, she flinched. Sweat made the armpits of Sam’s shirt cold. His fingers dug into the forest floor. Reg put his lips to her ear.
"There’s sex."
"What?" She stared into his face.
"Jason’s been reading about it," Todd offered.
"I didn’t know you could read," Jennifer retorted, but her voice was high and thin. She fumbled in her pocket, brought out another cigarette, dug in the other pocket and drew out her lighter. She clicked out a flame, but her fingers shook. Reg put his hand over them. Either the act or Reg’s touch calmed her, because she seemed cooler when she tucked the lighter back in her pocket and took the cigarette from her lips to exhale.
"Now, what the hell are you guys talking about?"
"A woman lays on the ground—" Jason began.
"Naked," Todd said. Jen narrowed her eyes at him.
"She holds candles on her body," Jason continued, "Like she’s the altar. You sacrifice an animal over her and all the ritual participants do it with her to increase the rush."
Jen cleared her throat. From ten yards, Sam saw the tremor in her fingers when she brought the cigarette back to her lips.
He had never used a mace and sword against someone except in tournament. Sam closed his eyes and breathed. He had to figure out what to do, and then do it. Without hesitation, without doubt.
Jennifer turned and faced Reg straight on, so all Sam could see was Reg’s face above the back of her head. "You guys are thinking I’m this living altar, right?"
"C’mon, Jen, you’re not a virgin." Reginald said. "Doesn’t it turn you on, even a little bit? Just imagine it." He shoved the sack, hard, and the cat screamed. Jennifer jumped. Todd took a step closer to her, outside the range of her vision. Jason pulled a handful of short cords from the backpack.
No moment required more discipline than the moment before a charge. Tension prickled over Sam’s arms. The beating of his heart accelerated until it was the roar of drums and the blood-firing vibration of trumpets. He curled his fingers around the handle of the mace at his belt and began to work it loose.
Reg put his hand against Jen’s cheek, keeping her attention on him. "We’ll paint you up with old Mephistocles’ blood here and then each of us will jump you. Think of the way it would feel. You would be like a goddess."
"The book says you get a high, better than the best drugs you’ve ever done," Jason rasped, holding the cords behind him, where only Sam could see them.
"Me—Mephistocles?" Jen looked toward the bag. "Isn’t that Ms. McGady’s cat?"
"Yeah," Todd laughed. "We knocked the bitch over for her cookies and the cat bolted. We stumbled on him getting away and Jason stuck his butt in the duffel bag."
"You…you didn’t hurt Ms. McGady?"
"Hell, no." Todd snorted. "Just knocked the cookies out of her hands and shoved her back on her ass."
Sam narrowed his eyes and took a tighter grip on the mace.
"C’mon, Jen." Reg stepped closer, touched her hair again. One step more and he’d be occupying the same space. "What the hell’s all that special about your life now? We’ve got to take power now, feel like the gods we are, even it’s just for a little while. Don’t you want that? What have we really got to look forward to, except this moment?" His voice lowered, but Sam heard him like the whisper of a ghoul through a graveyard. "I’ve been thinking about being with you for a long time. This will make it really special."
Jason rolled his eyes at Todd and stuck a finger down his throat. Todd ignored him, watching Reg and Jen with the intensity of the gang rapist next in line. Sam shifted. If he jumped out now, he could maybe distract them enough to give Jen a
chance to bolt. The only problem was, Reg’s words had apparently hit a nerve. Jen wasn’t acting like she wanted to bolt anymore.
She gazed up at Reg, her cigarette accumulating ash. He bent his head and kissed her, and her arms slid up around his beefy neck.
Sam swallowed shards of glass. He didn’t want to watch, but somehow he couldn’t help himself as Reg’s hands slid down her back, and lower. It suddenly felt as if his soul occupied Reg’s body, and Sam could feel Jen’s body under his palms, and it was his mouth stealing the breath from hers.
Jen’s free hand clamped down on Reg’s neck and she jammed the lit cigarette into his ear. Reg howled. Jen shoved away from him and tore the sack from the tree. Reg grabbed at her, but she flung the duffel bag over the line of flames. It rolled past Sam into the shadows, and Mephistocles burst from it with a yowl of fear. The cat streaked away.
The momentum of Jen’s throw had knocked her to her knees. She scrambled for flight. Reg snagged her by her beautiful hair and fell upon her, his knees in her back. "Bring me the rope, Jas!" he snarled.
Jason lunged to Reg’s aid. Sam leaped over the ring of fire, roaring his battle yell, and swung the unspiked mace at Jason’s head. It slammed into the boy’s temple and Jason fell to his knees. Sam swung again, hitting the soft base of the skull, and Jason toppled face forward at Todd’s feet.
Todd froze, his face a mask of confusion and fear. Sam ripped his short sword free and leveled mace and sword on Todd. He had done it a thousand times in practice, but it felt like the first time he had ever done it. His heart triple-hammered beneath his tabard. He hoped he hadn’t hurt Jason too badly, but he couldn’t afford to look.
Jennifer screamed and thrashed in Reg’s grasp. Reg struck her in the face when she tried to turn on her back. Blood came out of her nose and Sam made an animal-like noise he didn’t recognize. His concern for Jason vanished. He wanted to go to her, but first there was Todd.
"This doesn’t have to be your fight, Todd," Sam managed hoarsely.
"Get him!" Reg screamed. Jennifer bit his hand and he cursed, punching her again.
"Todd," Sam snarled, bringing the other boy’s attention back to him. There was sweat shining on Todd’s forehead. He looked as scared as Sam felt. "This can end here, Todd," Sam said.
Todd looked between Sam and Reg. Sam kept the mace swinging, but he made his eyes his weapon, channeling his fear into ferocity, like a cornered lion. Come on, Todd, get the hell out of here.
Todd bolted.
A potent silence settled over the clearing as Todd’s trampling retreat died away. Sam turned to face Reg and Jennifer. The world narrowed to their white faces and the leaping, crackling flames enclosing the three of them.
Things had come full circle.
He hadn’t protected her ten years ago. He hadn’t gotten his candy back. He hadn’t stopped the drunk driver from running head-on into his parents’ car that same night.
An impulsive moment of love shouldn’t end in bright lights, screaming metal, and a father’s death scream. Reality dropped its comforting mask of indifference that night and revealed malevolence. Sam was now 17 and his mother was forever 7.
The fire leaped, fueled by what built inside Sam. The next few moments were a strand of the Fates’ tapestry woven only for him. He could do it now. He would protect Jen this time. He had to. She didn’t have anyone else.
"It’s time to let her go, Reg." His voice sounded strange to him, higher than usual, the child speaking through the body of a boy who was almost a man.
Reg sneered. "Throw away that stick, and we’ll see about that."
"I won’t drop my weapon."
"Chicken?"
Sam shook his head. "I have nothing to prove to you."
"Oh, yeah?" Reginald made a quick lunge and grabbed one of Jason’s ropes. Sam started forward, but Reginald drew a switchblade. It caught the moonlight and spun open in that way that was oh-so-cool. In the movies.
"Come closer and I’ll gut her." Reginald teethed the blade and bound Jennifer’s wrists behind her.
"Why would you do that?" Sam took another step forward. Reginald brought up the knife.
"Because I can." The moonlight caught Reg’s dark brows and shadowed his features, turning the boy into a monster. He rose. "Drop the sword and mace and get out of here, Sam, or I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you were dead." He spat on the ground near Jen’s face. "Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill her. Someone with her rep isn’t going to run to the police."
Sam’s eyes flicked to Jennifer. Her torn sweater rode up over her bra. Blood ran over her lips and crusted in the hair snarled across the lower half of her face. Her body quivered with terror and shock.
Sam drove the sword into the ground and flung the mace out of the clearing. He let the momentum carry him around in a spin and forward, narrowing the gap between himself and Reg. The side of his foot connected with Reginald’s outstretched hand and knocked the knife out of his fingers. The blade plunged into Reg’s sneaker.
There were no movie pauses for short witticisms. Sam spun in a second kick and hit Reg’s head. Reg fell to his knees. Sam followed with a sharp drive into the boy’s massive solar plexus. Reg went flat on his back across Jennifer.
Sam pulled the short sword from the ground and held it to Reg’s throat. Jen stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes, like a terrified animal. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. She looked like she was hardly breathing. Sam knew he wasn’t.
The adrenaline reversed its flow and he fought the sudden dizziness and thundering roar in his head. Reg whimpered as the point of the sword pressed into flesh. Jen sucked in a breath. Sam steadied his stance and blinked, bringing them back into focus. Jen’s cheek pressed into the mud of the forest floor, and her nose was swelling.
Sam took a step back from them both and jumped as his heel hit something behind him. He looked down and saw the Norman Rockefeller tin with Ms. McGady’s cookies. He stooped and picked it up, keeping an eye and the sword on the wheezing Reg.
Sam flicked his attention over the cookies, took in their careful wrapping and curly ribbon tassels, and his body began to shake. He wanted to hurt Reg, hurt him in a way that would make him hurt every day for the rest of his life. His hand trembled on the hilt, his other hand knotted into a fist on the tin. A sword wasn’t good enough. He needed to beat Reg’s face, over and over again until it was unrecognizable.
A sound launched itself, and came forth as a guttural cry of rage. He swung the blade over his head.
Reg screamed, or maybe it was Jen, but all Sam saw was Reg’s mouth opening on an O of terror as the blade came down on him. Sam thrust it with all his strength into the narrow strip of earth between Reg’s elbow and his chest.
Sam flung himself to one knee beside Reg’s other side and grabbed a twist of sweatshirt, yanking him halfway off the ground. The hilt rocked back and forth with the force of the drive.
"Do you see this?" Sam thrust the tin in Reg’s face. He knew he was screaming, because of the force of air it took him to get the words from his lungs, but in his head it was a whisper, the strongest sound in the universe. "This is a fucking miracle, and you pissed on it, Reg. You pissed on it. What-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you?" He yanked him up and down with every syllable, his hand screwing harder into the neckline of shirt. Reg gagged and grabbed his wrist, whimpering, babbling, but none of it made any sense to Sam. Either Reg was beyond English or he was.
"Sam."
He stopped, because he always did when she spoke. Always. The promise of her voice was something Sam could count on, believe in, even choked with tears and terror as it was now.
"Sam." He looked at her. His face was so close to Reg’s that the other boy’s hair brushed his forehead.
"Sam, please stop." Tears ran out of Jennifer’s eyes, over the bridge of her nose. "Help me, okay?" She jerked Reg’s body with a sob. "I’m really scared. Please, stop."
Sam dropped Reg and the tin. What was he doing? Jen tru
ssed like a calf to be slaughtered and him trying to murder Reg Bartlett on top of her prone body. This wasn’t him, who he was. He closed his eyes, not worrying about Reg, and drew three deep, focusing breaths to steady himself and to calm the blinding ache in his head.
He opened his eyes, and stared into Reg’s face.
"Get out of here. Now."
Reg stared at him. Sam stood up and hauled him to his feet. "Get out of here," Sam repeated.
"I don’t…" Reg looked back at Jennifer. "What…"
