by Daka Hermon
Quincy glances over his shoulder. His eyes are wide. His foot catches an edge of the concrete on the sidewalk, uplifted by a thick tree root. He regains his balance and his head snaps forward, but I can tell he’s still eavesdropping.
Everyone waits for her to continue. The silence is tense.
“It was hours before my grandpa found me and the rats … They were hungry,” she says.
I swallow the massive lump in my throat. Even when we leave here, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that story and what Mary’s fear looks like.
Lyric expels a loud breath. “Yeah, I can see how that could be traumatic. Can I ask you something else?”
Duke mutters something that I can’t make out.
“Yeah,” Mary says reluctantly. She stops and turns to Lyric. The rest of the group halts, too.
“So …” Lyric looks at me, then back to Mary. “We touched you, so that means the rat snakes are coming for us. Just so I’m, uh, prepared. What happens next?”
Mary tucks her dark hair behind her ears. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it looked like they were taking you somewhere,” Lyric says.
She stares at the cracked sidewalk. “To the well. They always take me back to the well.”
Nia’s hands fly up to cover her mouth. My stomach seesaws so violently I get nauseous.
“I have to crawl back out. I run. Hide. If they catch me, it all happens again.” Mary’s haunted eyes slowly rise and focus on Lyric. “And again. And again. That’s what you can expect.”
The color drains from his face. His mouth opens, then closes with a pop. “Oh.”
“No more touching. No more touching,” Duke mumbles.
It’s not something I want to do, but I get a feeling we won’t be given a choice by the time this is all over.
We’re at the intersection of Olive Street and Brainard Road. One direction will take us to the park, the other way is home. My feet are glued to the ground.
“Justin?” Nia has stopped next to me.
“Why are we not moving?” Quincy asks. “We’re almost there.”
The sudden need to see Victoria wells up inside me. “I want to … I have to …”
Nia and Lyric stare at me for a moment, then nod. I need to go home.
“We’re making a detour,” says Lyric, walking quickly to my side. We head down the street.
“What?” Duke swivels his head from side to side. “Why?”
“There’s someone I want to see,” I say.
As we get closer, I notice a police cruiser parked in front of my house. Victoria stands in the driveway with an officer. He’s short and muscular, with buzz-cut brown hair peppered with gray.
“You have to do something!” she says.
I’m not even aware I’m running toward her until I hear Nia yell my name.
“Officer Green, my brother is missing,” Victoria says.
I skid to a halt in front of her. “Vic—”
She walks right through me and I shudder.
“It’s been less than twenty-four hours,” the officer says. “He could be off with his friends somewhere. They’re probably all together.”
They know about Nia and Lyric, too?
“He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t,” she cries. Her clothes are wrinkled and her eyes are red. “I’m telling you something is wrong. I know Justin. He wouldn’t run off, he wouldn’t leave.” She places her hand over her heart.
“I wouldn’t leave you unless something made me, Vic,” I whisper hoarsely.
“And what about my mom’s room? It was trashed. Justin wouldn’t have done that. That means there was a struggle, right? Maybe someone came into the house and took him.”
“You said his mom died recently; maybe he’s still dealing with the loss. He could have gotten upset and acted out—”
“No!” says Victoria. “And it was over a year ago.”
Three hundred and ninety-nine days. My eyes are drawn to the mark on my wrist.
Victoria’s hands interlock under her chin as if she’s praying. “You have to believe me.”
“Ma’am, I promise we’re looking into it. We’re canvassing the neighborhood, talking to people, but more than likely he’ll show up soon.” The cop hands her his card. “Call me if anything changes.”
I stand beside Victoria, watching the officer get into his car and drive away. She buries her face in her hands.
“I’m sorry, Vic,” I whisper brokenly.
She lifts her head and half turns in my direction. For a moment I think she hears me, but then she asks, “Where are you, Justin?”
My heart aches. “I’m right here.”
With a sigh, she walks inside the house. It looks even more lonely than usual. Victoria is inside the emptiness. And that’s how I feel. Empty.
Nia stares down the street toward her house. Her family is probably worried about her, too. “You want to go—”
“No,” she says, biting her lip. “I don’t want them to, uh, not see me, if that makes sense.”
It does.
Duke sucks in a loud breath. He taps his chest, over his heart, then touches the side of his head. “We shouldn’t have stopped. I knew it.”
“What’s wrong?” I say.
“Shhhhhh,” he says frantically. “Need to find …” He starts mumbling to himself.
My heart rate skyrockets.
“No!” He takes off, sprinting away from us. We chase him.
“Duke!”
There is a strategy to his movement. He weaves around objects, darting past rows of trees as he attempts to lose whatever is chasing him.
Suddenly, he goes as still as a statue and slowly begins to rise. Mary screams. Quincy is shouting something. I can’t move. Can’t think. Up, up, up Duke goes. He’s suspended in the air about ten feet above us.
A zap of electricity crackles around us. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My ears are ringing, my body is vibrating painfully. A blast of power knocks me to my knees. I’m vaguely aware of the others going down, too.
As I struggle to catch my breath, this … fireball of fear? It hits me in the stomach. Heat and fear swirl inside me; an internal terror twister.
An eerie tune plays. It’s the melody of Zee’s chant. At first it’s faint, growing louder as each second ticks away. Still on my hands and knees, I try to lift my head but it’s too heavy. Out the corner of my eye, I see Nia in the same position.
“Justin.”
The sound of my name from that growly voice turns my heart to stone. I feel pressure under my chin. It’s being forced up, until I’m staring at Duke. His arms and legs are spread wide as he hangs like a puppet on invisible strings.
One by one, red eyes appear in the sky around him.
The Seeker.
“Run and hide. I’ll seek and play. Not much more time before I get my way. No one can stop me; I’ll get the right number. Your world will be mine, I’ll escape from my slumber.”
“Let. Us. Go.” I force the words through my clenched teeth.
“It all worked out so much better than I expected. Not one, not two, but I got you all. He should have never betrayed me.”
“What … I don’t …”
The face in the dark blob pulsates as the monster cackles. “Your cries of pain, I love to hear. The more you hurt, the better the fear.”
It releases me suddenly. My head falls forward, my chin hitting my chest.
Emotions swirl through me, making me nauseous. There’s anger, pain, fear. I know those are mine, but there’s something else. Excitement. It’s coming from the Seeker. It’s enjoying this.
Duke whimpers. His body twitches as he struggles to get free.
“The games began, you were the first. Not much longer until I unleash my worst,” it says. “You’re all my children, but he’s my favorite one. From beginning to end, he gets to experience the fun.”
Duke plummets, landing with a thud in the thick grass. He groans in pain, clutching his side.
Anger rips through me. Every ounce of bitterness and despair bubbles to the surface.
“We’re coming for you,” I say between gasping breaths.
It cackles. “I’ll be waiting.”
The red eyes disappear one by one. The spooky melody fades away as darkness recedes, leaving behind a gray sky and misty fog. I clutch my chest. The only reason I know my heart is still there is because it’s pounding at a dangerous rate.
We lay there for a long moment. No one speaks. There’s only whimpering and ragged breathing. I shove my hands into my pocket to grab the puzzle piece. I grasp it so hard it bends.
“Is it over?” Nia asks. She moves as if to touch me, but I hold up my hand to stop her.
“Don’t.”
She bites her lips and nods. Her eyes are bright with tears as she hugs her knees. I force myself to sit up and touch my aching jaw. There has to be a bruise from the Seeker’s punishing grip.
Mary stares off in the distance, her eyes vacant. There’s no life in them.
Quincy’s head is pressed against his backpack as he sways back and forth.
The air is heavy around us. Thick with pain and sadness. I exhale a shaky breath and rub my chest. It aches.
“That … that was horrifying,” Lyric says. “What did it want?”
“Me,” Duke says weakly. He shakily sits up, wincing in pain. “It likes to torment everyone, but with me it’s different; there’s more.” His unfocused eyes stare off in the distance. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been here so long, or because I have so many fears within me … There’s this horrifying connection. I can’t escape it no matter how far I run, no matter where I hide.”
Nia wipes tears from her cheeks. “You’re not alone anymore.” She glances between Mary and Duke. “You don’t have to fight the Seeker by yourself.”
He scoffs. “Even when we’re together, I’m alone.”
Lyric runs a hand through his hair. “No matter how much you try to explain what you’ve gone through, we’ll never get it. We can’t. It’s personal. You’ve lived it.” He glances at me and Nia. “But we’re here now. And like I said before, we look out for each other. We fight for each other. And we’re gonna fight for you, too. It’s not you against the Seeker anymore. It’s us.”
Mary’s eyes flutter closed. “Us,” she says wistfully.
Duke watches me. His expression is clouded with fear, but there’s also a glimmer of hope. I concentrate on that.
I wearily climb to my feet and reach for my backpack. “Let’s go.”
Everyone stares at me, not moving.
“What? Nothing’s changed.” I glance from person to person. “We find Shae and Carla. We figure out a way home before the Seeker takes kid number four hundred. The plan is the same. What just happened was bad, but we knew taking down the monster wasn’t going to be easy.”
Lyric slowly stands. “Yeah, but I’m still shook. Can’t we take five to regroup?”
“There’s no time.” If I think about it too much I might not be able to do what we need to do.
“He’s right. I’m about as far from okay as you can get, but I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get home.” Nia stands and stretches. Her bones crack. She winces.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, just … really stiff,” she mumbles, then smiles weakly. “Did you know courage is doing stuff when you’re afraid?”
I swallow hard. “Then there’s no one more courageous than us.”
“Truth,” says Lyric.
Nia smiles. “Let’s go save the world.”
“After we find Carla and Shae,” Quincy says as he scrambles to his feet.
Mary and Duke don’t respond, but they stand and join us as we start walking again.
We solemnly continue toward the park. As we enter the gates, I stop abruptly. A group of kids, maybe fifty. They watch us with wide eyes.
“I’ll say this one more time. I’m looking for my brother. His name is Quin-cy!” a raspy voice I recognize says.
“Carla!” Quincy races forward.
The crowd parts and Carla gawks at us. She lets out a wheezing gasp. “Quincy?” She touches her chest and takes an unsteady step forward. Quincy slams into her and they stumble back.
Kids scatter and yell out reminders about not touching, but it’s too late and I don’t think Quincy and Carla care. Their embrace is long and tight.
Quincy releases her. “Are you okay?”
Carla doubles over, her hands on her knees. “I … I … I need …” She wheezes.
“What’s wrong with her?” Lyric asks as we hurry closer.
Quincy tugs off his backpack and quickly unzips one of the pockets. He removes an inhaler and shoves it into Carla’s hand.
“She has asthma?” Nia asks.
Carla shakes the device, then brings it to her mouth. She breathes in deeply, then presses the top of the canister. She removes it and holds her breath.
“Better now?” Quincy asks.
She inhales and exhales a few breaths, then nods. “What happened to your face?”
He winces. “Bugs. They bit and stung me. What did the Seeker do to you?”
She shudders. “I …” She falls silent when she catches sight of our group. She stands up taller, jerking her shoulders back. “What are they doing here?”
Quincy points in our direction. “They helped me find you.”
“We’re glad you’re okay,” Nia says.
Carla snorts. “Of course I’m okay. Duh. I know how to take care of myself.”
There’s not as much bite to her words as usual. Her hair is tangled and there are scratches all over her face and neck.
“You better be happy my brother is safe,” Carla says. “I bet all of you are to blame for whatever’s happening. Fix it.”
I ignore her; my gaze is locked on someone standing just behind the crowd of kids. Shae. She’s dressed in one of those ballet dance outfits—a black leotard thingy with a pink, frilly skirt and tights.
“Shae!” Quincy cries happily.
I point at her. “Uh, is she real or fake?”
“Fake? What are you talking about?” Carla asks.
“Long story,” says Lyric, then he turns to Shae. “Do you have a number on your wrist?”
She slowly approaches, staring at us with wide eyes. She extends her arm. Three hundred and ninety-four.
“How did you get here?” I ask.
“I was at my dance camp, then I was here,” she says shakily. “I don’t know what happened. What kind of place is this? It’s scary.”
I glance at Lyric and Nia. The real Shae did disappear from dance camp, and she has a number.
“I want to go home.” Shae flips her long brown hair over her shoulder. “I’m sure my parents have offered a huge reward for my return. I was probably on television. I hope they used a good picture.”
Lyric rolls his eyes. “That’s definitely something the real Shae would say.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Quincy says to her. “I was worried about you. Not as much as I was worried about my sister, but I did think about you all the time.”
Shae looks Quincy up and down, her nose scrunched in a frown. “Uh, thanks.”
Carla shoves her inhaler in the front pocket of her baggy jeans. “I want to know what’s up with this crazy place. How do we get home?”
The murmuring around us grows louder. The kids gathered near the tree fort stare at us. My gaze darts around the group—all shapes and sizes, different races, older, younger. A surge of panic shoots through my veins as I take in some of the clothing—bell-bottom pants, tie-dyed shirts, poodle skirts, platform shoes, knee socks, leather vests with tassels. Some of these kids were taken a long time ago like Duke.
“I thought you said kids don’t usually hang out together,” I say to him.
His eyes twitch. “I’ve never seen so many together at once.”
“I ran into some of them as I was walking around trying to figure out
what’s going on,” Carla explains. “I told them I was going to find a way home and they started following me. What’s this about a monster snatching us? And why is all this scary stuff happening?”
“I wasn’t following you,” a girl with long red hair says. She’s wearing blue shorts and a green tank top. “The monster … the monster was chasing me and I was trying to hide.”
“Me too,” says a boy with a large gap in his top front teeth. He’s short, with curly brown hair.
My gaze bounces between the two of them. They look familiar. How do I know them? My eyes widen. “AnnaBelle? Cameron?”
They gasp.
“How do you know my name?” she asks.
“The missing wall,” I say.
“Whoa.” Lyric gawks at them. “You’re right.”
“What’s a missing wall?” AnnaBelle asks.
Nia side-eyes Mary. “We found a wall with pictures of missing kids. Your photos were up there with some of our friends.”
“Was I on the news?” Cameron asks. “Are my mom and dad looking for me?”
“Yeah, man. I’m sure they are,” Lyric says.
I glance at Cameron’s wrists, then AnnaBelle’s. He’s number 325. AnnaBelle is 307.
“Do you really know a way home?” a small boy in superhero pajamas asks. His chubby face is pale and his eyes are red from crying.
The other kids begin to shout questions.
Duke turns away, his shoulders hunched.
“Is that him?” a girl whispers to the kids around her as she stares at Duke.
“Maybe. I think so,” a boy responds. “So, he is real? They say he’s been here forever.”
“What’s wrong with him?” another boy asks.
Duke tugs at the collar of his shirt, muttering to himself. His wide eyes dart around. “Out in the open. Not a good idea.”
“Duke.” I step closer to him.
Flinching, he shuffles back. “Too close.”
I stop. “Sorry.” I realize this is probably the first time he’s been around this many people in a very long time. And we’re even farther away from his woods. His safe place. This is clearly hard on him.
