by Daka Hermon
“Zee is still Zee. He’s just in pieces. We can help put him back together again.” I trade glances with Lyric and Nia. “By defeating the Seeker we can make it better.”
“Friends don’t give up on friends.” Lyric faces Zee. “And we’re more than friends. We’re family. Do you hear us? We’re not giving up!”
Zee’s gaze jerks upward at the dark sky. This blackness feels completely evil and permanent.
“Zee,” Mrs. Murphy calls from inside the house. “Your lunch is ready. Come on in, sweetie.”
He squeezes his eyes closed. “It all began with Hide and Seek. The rules you broke you now must keep,” Zee chants. “The Seeker hides and fear’s the game. To win, it must not end the same.”
“He warned us before, maybe he’s doing it again,” says Nia.
I move closer. “Say it again, Zee.”
He whimpers and tugs at his hair. We can’t lose him now. His face contorts as if he’s in agony. “Can’t … can’t …” He half turns away, then swings back around, but it’s like it takes a big effort.
“Please, Zee,” I say. “We need your help.”
“Zee?” Mrs. Murphy yells.
His tortured expression slips off his face and an eerie calmness settles over him. He points to the tree in the middle of his backyard. “It all began with Hide and Seek. The rules you broke you now must keep. The Seeker hides and fear’s the game. To win, it must not end the same.”
“He’s pointing to the tree we used as home base,” Quincy says.
Despite the absence of light, shadows crawl and weave around the trunk of the tree. The limbs sway as if they are waving, beckoning us closer.
“Use home base to return home,” Duke mutters to himself. “To end it all, we have to start at the beginning.”
My head whips from the tree to Zee. I repeat his chant. I know what he’s telling us to do. I draw in a loud breath.
“What is it?” asks Nia.
“I think he’s saying we need to play the game again. That we have to win the game.”
“That’s how this all started,” a wide-eyed Lyric says. “For everyone.”
“A do-over,” says Nia.
“What?” Carla steps back. “I don’t wanna play that game with y’all again.”
From the back porch, Zee says the chant again. Louder this time, almost screeching it.
“How do we know he’s telling us the right thing to do?” Quincy clutches the straps of his backpack.
Tears stream down Zee’s thin, pale face. He shouts the chant. His arm trembles as he continues to point to the tree.
I walk up to Zee and stand directly in front of him. He stops yelling mid-chant and his arm slowly lowers.
“I trust you,” I say. “I believe in you. You’re our friend. No matter what.”
Zee’s head tilts to the side. His dark eyes clear slightly. He extends his fist, off to the side. I hear Nia gasp. Tears momentarily blind me and I have to blink them away. I bite my lip, drawing blood. The pain of my heart breaking almost knocks me to my knees.
I place my hand close to his, our knuckles almost touching. He doesn’t react, but I didn’t expect him to. Some part of him recognizes that we’re here and that’s enough. Lyric and Nia jog up behind me and place their hands near Zee’s as well. The Fantastic Four.
“Zee?!” Mrs. Murphy rushes out the back door and onto the porch. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer me?” She glances around the backyard and the muscles around my heart tighten.
I take a step forward and open my mouth to … I’m not sure what I want to say. I wish she knew we were here and that we’re fighting for Zee, fighting to get back home.
“Justin,” Zee says.
My heart expands like an over-inflated balloon. Hurts.
Mrs. Murphy gently grabs his shoulders and turns him around so they face each other.
“The police are gonna find him, baby. Justin is smart, wherever he is …” Her voice cracks. “All your friends are coming home. I know it.”
Zee lifts the harmonica to his mouth and blows out a haunting, low sound. It’s off-key and sad, but uplifting as well. There’s a promise in that melody, a call to action that I accept.
With her arm around Zee’s shoulder, Mrs. Murphy leads him inside the house. The door slams shut behind them.
“See ya, Zee,” Lyric whispers.
Soon. And he’ll see us. I promise.
Nia waves. “Bye, Mrs. Murphy.”
I clutch my puzzle piece tight, then turn to face everyone. “Let’s finish this.”
“We all lost the game. This time it’s about winning, following the rules we set,” I say as the wind whips up. It rattles the old patio furniture littered about the backyard.
“I don’t understand.” Shae shivers.
Quincy hugs himself. “Bad stuff happened last time we played Hide and Seek.”
“Zee was saying we need to play the game and win, then we can reverse what went down,” Lyric says. “We know better; we do better.”
“And that’s all? You think if we do this, we go home.” Carla crosses her arms. “Sounds too easy.”
“Don’t forget we’ll have our fears to deal with,” says Lyric. “No way the monster is gonna go down without a fight.”
“We have to be prepared for the Seeker to unleash everything it has at us,” says Duke. “We’re fighting for our lives, but so is the Seeker.”
“I think …” Nia hesitates. “Hide and Seek is usually every kid for themselves, but now we’re gonna have to work together and help each other make it to home base.”
“Rules?” Shae rubs away the goose bumps on her arms.
I gulp. The Seeker as Shae asked the same thing when we played at Zee’s house.
“If you’re tagged, you’re out,” I say shakily. “You can’t reveal the hiding place of another player. Can’t hide inside a building or car. Only hide in the set backyard area. Touch home base to be safe. You can’t block home base from any player. No roughing up anybody. And we have to finish the game.” I focus my attention on Carla. “We play fair and honest this time. We have to.”
“Don’t look at me. I wasn’t the only one who messed up,” Carla says.
“Okay, okay. It doesn’t matter now. How do we get the Seeker here?” I ask.
Duke shakes his head. “Hide and Seek is its purpose.” He stares at the tree. “The Seeker will come. It always does. That hasn’t changed in eighty years.”
My eyes slowly travel around the group. Same game, with the addition of new players. And this game means so much more than the other one. Before we were playing to pass the time, now we’re playing for our lives, our freedom.
I extend my arm. It trembles. “The only way to win is by helping each other. That means we need to see all of the fears. Anyone got a problem with that?” I look at Duke and Mary.
Duke pales. “All the fears at once …”
“You sure about this?” Mary asks.
Lyric exhales loudly. “Dude, this hand stack … We really will be Team Terror. All in. There’s no coming back from this.”
“At least we’ll know what to expect,” I say.
Nia bites her lip and slowly places her hand over mine. Instantly there’s a shock as we share fears. Lyric tags us. His hand covers ours. After a moment of hesitation, one hand after another falls onto the pile, until we are all joined.
An energy current flows through our bodies, as we’re jolted by this creepy connection. Our fingers twitch where we touch.
I point toward the large oak tree in the center of the backyard. “That’ll be home base.”
Stepping back, Lyric and I dump the items from our backpacks onto the ground. “Use whatever you need against the fears. Remember, everyone has to reach the tree. No weak attempts.”
“I’m not so sure about this,” says Carla. “Too much could go wrong.”
Hisssss. Large black crows appear, swooping low. They land on Zee’s roof.
“The crows again? Ar
en’t they bad luck?” Lyric asks.
Duke gasps. Crows are one of his fears. He peers at the birds through narrowed eyes. “Wait, those aren’t crows, they’re—”
“Vultures,” says Nia faintly.
“What?!” Carla says.
“Did you know vultures are scavengers? They eat dead animals.” Nia frowns. “They, uh, they also attack the wounded and the sick,” she says as if she is struggling to get the information out.
“Are you saying they’re here to eat us?” Quincy’s voice is so high the sound hurts my ears.
It’s a good question, but one I wish he hadn’t asked aloud. Are the birds waiting to see who remains or will they attack to prevent us from finishing the game?
The vultures hiss and their round heads bob left and right as they stare down at us with their beady eyes. I miss the crows.
A crackle of lightning zigzags through the sky. A cloud appears in the black sky, partially lit from inside. A face appears. It’s so quick, I almost think I imagine it.
Duke jumps.
Lightning. Another one of his fears.
“It’s here,” Duke says, staring upward. His face is pale. “And it’s bringing the pain.”
“What?” I ask.
He clutches his head. “Me. It’s about me. It’s going to use my fears against everyone. It wanted me here. The beginning at the end.”
“Justin?” It’s Not-Mom.
I shudder and whip around. She stands at the edge of the backyard. She waves and smiles. Her teeth are black.
“Don’t do this. If you stay, I’ll get better. You can make me better. The Seeker can heal me, bring me back to you.”
“Justin …” Lyric takes a step back, his eyes wide with sorrow. “Man, I …”
“Oh no …” Mary stares at the thick brush near the shed in the backyard. Red eyes appear. Then another pair. It’s the rat snakes.
It’s starting.
Mary takes a step toward the back gate as if she wants to make a run for it, but Duke grabs her.
“You can’t leave. We have to play the game,” he says.
Mary trembles. “But—”
“We’ve lost too much,” Duke says. “I’m not going to let the Seeker steal one more minute of my life. We fight back. We go home.” He makes eye contact with all of us. “That’s all that matters. Leaving here. Destroying the monster once and for all.”
Mary’s moment of hesitation transforms into determination. She stands up straighter. “Okay, okay.” She exhales a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
Three creepy porcelain dolls step from around the house. They stand side by side in charred clothing. There are hollowed-out spaces where their eyes should be. Their faces are cracked and their heads are covered with ratty strands of yarn.
“Play with me. Play with me.”
“They don’t look so scary,” says Carla.
Their sinister smiles widen with loud creaks and their bodies contort. Their heads spin around and they drop onto all fours, crawling toward us.
“Oh,” says Carla.
Shae whimpers. We stumble back.
“Justin?” Not-Mom says. She ghosts closer as the rat snakes emerge from the thick brush.
I spin around and race toward the tree.
The ground shakes. Lightning streaks through the air. The bolt hits close to the tree, sparking a small fire. I stumble to a stop. Out the corner of my eye, I see Duke dive for cover.
Despite the heat of the flames, ice forms on the trunk of the tree and travels up and out to each branch. Icicles hang dangerously like frozen fingers.
A fuzzy blur emerges from within the tree. It is faceless, a human-shaped form about my height, with multiple red eyes. Black wings unfurl from its back. It extends its arms and sharp claws appear.
“Oh snap!” cries Lyric. “What is that?”
“What do we do?” Shae clutches Quincy’s arm, tugging him back. “What do we do?”
This game is different. We’re not playing against each other. We’re playing against our fears and the Seeker. In its world, with its rules.
“I went up the hill, the hill was muddy, stomped my toe and made it bloody, should I wash it?” a deep, growly voice says.
Duke was right. The Seeker is here.
For a moment there’s no response. We’re all in shock.
“Everybody, go. Now!” I yell.
We scramble, hitting each other like out-of-control bumper cars as we scatter in different directions.
I duck down near the side of the porch. “Jus-tin,” Not-Mom says in a creepy singsong voice. I flinch as her cold breath hits the side of my face. I squeeze my eyes closed.
Not-Mom’s cold fingers slide down my arm.
“Go away,” I whisper desperately. “Please go away!”
From my hiding spot, I peek toward home base. The monster is standing guard, not searching like it’s supposed to do. It’s using the fears to do its dirty work.
Mary screams. A giant rat snake has her by the ankle and pulls her across the backyard, away from her hiding spot.
Not-Mom grabs my arm in a bruising grip. I spin around and shove her away. She tumbles back, her eyes wide with shock. For a moment I’m frozen in horror. I pushed my mom. Her surprise morphs into fury. The hatred in her expression takes my breath away.
She springs forward. I slip out of her reach and race to help Mary before she is taken back to the well. I freeze, overwhelmed by the sight before me. Every fear has been unleashed. It’s a war zone of terror. Attacks come from every direction.
The ground splits with a loud crack. Bowling ball–size bugs crawl out of the opening. They’re beetle-like with sharp fangs. Horns protrude from their heads, and their scorpion-like tails sway back and forth.
Quincy stumbles back. He trips over his feet and falls on his butt. The insects quickly advance, then something flies past me and becomes embedded in the side of the house.
It’s a needle. The kind nurses use to draw blood in hospitals. Another one zooms past me. I dive out of the way.
“Awwww, come on,” Lyric cries as he bobs and weaves. “Nobody said anything about needles. Duke! Is this you?”
“Sorry!” Duke yells, dodging a needle.
“Man, how did you forget to mention this one?” Lyric asks.
“Wouldn’t you forget this one if you could?”
Lyric spins around, then he freezes. He narrowly misses being hit by a needle.
“Get down!” I say.
His panicked eyes race around the backyard. He’s breathing heavily. “Justin? Nia?”
Oh no! He can’t see us.
“Lyric!” Nia calls out, but he doesn’t hear her. He runs one way, backtracks, then goes in a different direction.
He’s so disoriented, he’s not concentrating on the fears approaching from every angle.
“They’re still here. I just can’t see them.” His voice cracks. “It’s okay. They won’t leave me.”
Shadowy figures slink across the ground toward him. They shift, peeling off the dirt, until they are standing. It’s another one of Duke’s fears. The shadows are in various human shapes—tall, short, wide, thin. They surround Lyric. He swings around, fists raised as they shoehorn him in and launch their attack.
“Justin,” he cries. “Help me!”
I start toward him, but skid to a halt when Nia cries out. She hobbles around as if any movement hurts.
“Nia?”
She glances up at me, her shoulders hunched up to her ears.
Wrinkles appear on her face as tears stream down her sunken cheeks.
I glance down at my hands. The skin shrivels, too. My joints ache. Nia’s pain is my pain. My heart pounds loudly in my ears. I can’t … I grab my chest.
“You’re weak. No one likes you. You have no friends.” Carla faces off against a bigger, angrier, meaner version of herself. It stomps closer, with a smirk, until it’s right in her face. It continues to shout as Carla withers from the insults.
�
��Shut up!” Carla yells.
Her double mocks her and laughs. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
Can’t breathe. I feel everything. It’s too much. Don’t know what to do, how to help. What’s happening? What do I do?
“Somebody tell me where Justin and Nia are,” Lyric says, his voice thick with tears. “Please! Where are they? Are they okay?” He takes a punch to the stomach and falls to his knees.
I struggle to answer, but the words won’t come out. My throat is too tight. Everybody else is too caught up with their fears to answer.
“Keep them away! Keep them away!” Shae attempts to run for home base, but the creepy dolls block her path. One crawls forward and touches her arm, then her leg. Her skin turns white and hardens, becoming like porcelain. Shae tilts to the side and falls to the ground from the weight. Her limbs shatter. The doll side of her body is gone. She screams.
What— I stagger back.
The rat snake drags Mary closer to the backyard gate.
We can’t win. We’re not strong enough. I’m not strong enough. I slap my hands over my ears to drown out the screams. Can’t breathe.
“I can make it all stop,” the monster says. I hear its voice inside my head. “End the game. Declare me the winner and it will all go away.”
“Oh, baby,” says Not-Mom. “Give in to us. We can take all your hurt and pain away. Stay here and we can be a family again.”
I shake my head frantically, whimpering. She touches my face; it’s gentle and warm. My eyes pop open. I gasp. It’s my mom. Not my sick mom. My healthy mom. Her smooth brown skin is glowing. There is no smell of sickness or decay. She’s wearing a bright red dress with large blue flowers. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Stay with me,” she says. “Don’t you want me back? We can be happy here.”
I stare into her brown eyes, so much like mine. Her touch … It’s been so long. I’ve missed this. I could forget everything else. I could—
A body slams into me and I hit the ground hard enough to rattle my bones. It’s Nia. She scrambles away from me and curls into a ball, her arms circling her raised knees. “What’s happening? Where am I?” Her voice is weak. Her hair has turned completely gray.
