by Daka Hermon
“Nia?” I reach for her. My hand shakes.
She flinches. “Don’t touch me. I don’t know you.”
Her words tear through me. My memories shift, fading. I shake my head hard and make myself focus. Can’t forget. Can’t let her forget.
“Justin,” my mom says.
I ignore her and take Nia’s frail hand. “I’m Justin. I’m your best friend.” She has to remember me, remember us.
Nia blinks, her eyes clearing before clouding with confusion again.
I swallow the mountainous lump in my throat. “Did you know you’re the first person I called after my mom died? Did you know …” My voice cracks.
Her hand jerks in mine. I hold it tighter and stare into her eyes. Come back to me, Nia.
“Justin, let her go. I’m here now,” my mom says, her voice loud and clear, tempting me to give in.
Nia, Nia, Nia. She’s my friend. I need her. “Did you know I keep your emails and texts? When I feel down, I read them and I know I’ll be okay. Please remember me.”
Her head tilts, and she studies me closely. Her forehead creases. She squeezes her eyes closed. Tears slide down her face. The war continues to rage around us, but I wait.
Her expression clears and her eyelids lift. My entire body shakes. She sees me.
“Did you know people go through 396 friendships in a lifetime, but only 33 will last?” She smiles. It trembles, but it’s there. “You will be one of my 33.”
I exhale a breath that shakes my entire body. She throws her arms around me and holds on tight. “I remember you, Justin.”
We separate and stare at each other. She flinches as the volume of the screams increase. My gaze travels around and lands on Lyric. He’s struggling to fight off the shadows.
“Let’s go get our friend. Let’s win this game and go home.” I pull her to her feet. We both wobble before standing strong.
“No,” Mom yells.
I peek over my shoulder. She looks crushed. I’ve disappointed her.
The Seeker cackles. I swing around to see it staring at something near the side of Zee’s house. It’s a girl. Her image flickers in and out. She’s wearing a knee-length yellow dress and a flowery headband holds back her short locs.
She flinches and glances down at her wrist. She opens her mouth to scream, but there’s no sound.
“Number four hundred,” the Seeker says with glee.
Oh no! It has another kid. It looks like she’s not completely here yet, but she’s tagged. She’s on her way.
“Nia, you have to hurry and get safe!” I say. “We have to make sure the Seeker doesn’t cross over.”
“But—”
“You have to touch home base,” I say.
She stares at me for a moment, then glances at the tree. “What about you?”
“I have to help the others.”
“But—”
“Go!”
She nods and hobbles toward the tree. Her movements are slow, unsteady.
Mary and the rat snake are directly in her path. I snatch up the pepper spray.
“Keep going,” I shout at Nia when she hesitates.
Holding tight to the canister, I spray the mist into the rat snake’s face. My eyes water as the breeze blows some of the chemical back in my direction. With a bloodcurdling screech the rat snake rears back and tosses me to the ground, but it releases Mary. Crying, she rolls away.
“Safe!” Nia hits the tree. Almost immediately, her aging reverses. At the same moment, the girl in the yellow dress, number four hundred, fades away. With Nia now safe, she’s reduced the count. The Seeker roars and its blurry form vibrates with fury.
“Mary, get up. Get to home base.”
She scrambles unsteadily to her feet and limps toward the tree, dodging the needles that continue to fly in our direction.
Another rat snake paws at my leg. Its claws pierce my jeans. I cry out as I feel the warm trickle of blood down to my ankle. Duke rushes toward me and jumps in the air. His feet slam into the rodent-reptile that has me pinned to the ground. The force of the impact sends the rat snake sailing across the backyard.
“Safe!” Mary calls out as she touches the tree. The rat snakes disappear. The Seeker lets out a screech that sends chills racing through my body.
“Tell Lyric I’m safe and that Justin is coming to help him,” Nia says to Mary.
Mary relays the message.
Lyric shudders with relief. “Hurry up, Justin. I need you, man.” He spins out of reach of one shadow and kicks another in the chest, sending it flying backward.
“We have to keep working together,” Duke says, panting. “That’s the only way to win.”
I nod. “We take them out, one by one.”
I start forward to help Lyric, but Not-Mom is back before me. Her skin peels off her face. “You’re not leaving me!”
I stumble back, keeping my eyes on her. “Duke, help Lyric!”
Not-Mom continues to rant in my face. She takes my arms and shakes me. “You’re not leaving me.”
Duke dashes forward and suddenly a wall of spiderwebs appears. He swings his arms to get past them, but they cling to his body like sticky ropes. “Can’t. Get. Them. Off,” he pants out as they begin to wrap around him, cocooning him.
“Use the Swiss Army tool,” Nia yells.
It’s lying on the ground a few feet away from him. He struggles to reach it, but his feet and legs are completely locked together by the spiderwebs.
“Help!” Quincy screams. “It hurts!”
“Get away from my brother!” Carla shoves past her double and stomps toward Quincy, who is on the ground completely covered by the insects. She’s holding a can of Silly String from the backpack. She fires it at the beetle bugs. The spray goes all over their bodies, making it harder for them to move. They hiss and scurry around, falling onto their backs. Carla stomps the bugs while they lie there. The crunch turns my stomach.
“Run, Quincy,” she says.
Quincy crawls to his feet, then staggers toward home base. He launches himself at the tree. “Safe!”
The ground shakes beneath our feet. Trees topple over and wisps of eerie fog slink across the ground, evaporating. “You’ll pay for this,” the Seeker growls.
Carla tries to run, but her double blocks her path.
“Nobody will come to help you. They don’t like you,” the Carla double says. “They don’t want you to go home. They’ll save everybody but you. They think you’re a weak, mean bully.”
Carla stumbles back. “Shut up! Leave me alone!”
Shae cries out. The dolls have surrounded her. She’s more doll than human now. Her face is porcelain and even her hair is yarn-like.
Lyric continues to battle the shadows. They are brawling all over the yard.
Duke grunts and falls to his knees. He’s now cocooned up to his chest. His arms are pinned to his sides. Black and brown spiders, the size of golf balls, appear and crawl all over his chest and face. He shakes his head violently, trying to get them off, but they cling to him.
I have to help. “Let me go!” I struggle against Not-Mom’s grip, but she tightens her hold.
The Seeker cackles. “So much fun. I love to play. More. More.”
The Carla double shoves Carla, forcing her back a few steps. “Everybody knows the real you. You’re selfish. They only like your brother. One day he won’t like you either. You’ll have no one.”
“Stop! Stop!” Carla says, covering her ears. “I give up. Make it stop.”
I freeze.
Carla spins around to face the Seeker.
“I want to make a deal,” she says.
The monster slinks forward.
“Don’t do it,” Lyric cries, as he’s held down by a shadow.
The other fears stop, like we’re taking a terror time-out.
Carla walks closer to the tree, toward the Seeker. She wipes tears off her face. “If I give up, quit playing, will you let me go home? Leave me and my brother alone for g
ood?”
My heart races. This can’t be happening.
“No, Carla,” Quincy pleads. “Don’t.”
“You’ll trap us here,” Mary yells.
Not-Mom holds me close. I shudder. I hear her raspy breathing, feel the sickness seeping from her skin.
“You want to end this?” the Seeker asks. Its voice is deep and sinister.
Dark clouds swirl angrily above us and lightning flashes, the bolts streaking repeatedly like fireworks, like they’re celebrating a victory.
If she doesn’t finish the game, we’ve broken the rules. The Seeker wins again. Our punishment will be even worse than the first time.
“Carla, if you betray us, it will take over our world, too. It’s lying to you. You’ll never be safe.” I try to take a step forward, but Not-Mom holds me back. Her bony fingers tighten like handcuffs.
“You can be with me forever, baby. Isn’t that what you want?” she whispers in my ear. I shudder.
“Repeat after me,” the Seeker says to Carla. “No more running and hiding, no more games to face. By taking this deal, I’ll forever leave this place. I’ve picked a side and this is the end. I choose the Seeker and not my friends,” the monster chants.
Even though it’s faceless and I don’t see an expression, I feel its glee. Is this what it made Hyde and Zee say? Is this how they were released?
“Carla, please—” Duke says, his voice muffled. The webs partially cover his mouth.
“You can’t leave us here,” Shae says. Tears fall from her marble-like eyes. The dolls surround her.
Carla flinches, but creeps closer to the Seeker.
The others are huddled around the tree yelling and begging Carla not to betray us.
“Guess I am selfish,” she says, then turns to the monster. “No more running and hiding, no more games to face.”
A cry rips out of me. I fall forward onto my knees.
“By taking this deal, I’ll forever leave this place,” Carla says.
It can’t end like this. It can’t. My lungs seize. I’m gasping for air.
Carla takes another step forward, and her foot catches the strap of the slingshot lying near my backpack. She stops before the Seeker. Its excitement is billowing off its form in waves.
“I’ve picked a side and this is the end,” Carla says. “I choose myself, and save my friends.” She lunges forward and touches the tree. “Safe.”
Poof! Her double disappears.
My heart jumps, stops, then jumps again.
“What just happened?” Lyric asks with wild eyes.
Carla snorts. “Like I was gonna let some stupid monster beat me. I may be selfish, but I’m not weak and I can be smarter than all y’all when it really counts.”
My jaw drops. She didn’t betray us. She played the Seeker.
“I knew my sister would save us,” Quincy says. “Yay, Carla.”
“Now finish it so we can go home.” Not removing her hand from the tree, Carla kicks the slingshot. It sails through the air and lands next to Lyric.
For a moment no one moves. Then everything happens at once. The monster roars. The sound is so hate filled that I feel it in my bones. Its fury is alive, and on a mission to seek and destroy.
Lyric dives away from the shadows, grabs the slingshot and a few rocks off the ground. He fires them at the dolls near Shae. One rock hits a doll in the chest. A crack forms. The body sways and hits the ground, shattering. He fires again and another doll goes down, then he’s pulled back by a shadow creature.
“Grab the rope,” Quincy shouts. He holds one end and the other end is near Shae. She takes hold of it and, with one hand still on the tree, Quincy drags her closer. Mary and Nia use their free hands to help as well.
Shae hits the trunk with a whimpering, “Safe.” The remaining doll vanishes. Shae’s limbs reappear and all her doll features fade.
Lightning bolts zigzag down, striking the ground around us. Patches of grass catch fire. A trail of flames shoots toward Duke.
I break free from Not-Mom and run toward the Swiss Army tool on the ground near Duke. I knock the spiders away and use the blade to slice through the webs cocooning him. Gasping for air, he falls forward against me. We dive out of the path of the flames, but they follow our movement. The heat is painful.
“Let’s go!” I pull him toward Lyric. “We have to help him.”
Now the odds are even. Duke and I square off against two shadows, leaving Lyric to battle the other one.
We’re wrestling across the backyard, trying to avoid the lightning strikes and stalking flames.
“Lyric, get safe,” Duke yells.
“Where’s Justin?”
“He’s with me,” Duke says. “We’ve got this. Go!”
Lyric hesitates, then runs toward the tree. He smacks it. “Safe!”
Nia gives him a one-armed hug. They’re safe. A weight eases off my chest.
“Justin,” Not-Mom yells. “You can’t leave. I won’t let you.” She appears next to me and takes my face in her bony hands. “You’re mine.”
Duke starts toward me.
“No. Get safe! That’ll take out all your fears.”
“We finish it together,” says Duke.
“This is on me.” Yeah, they can see her, but Not-Mom is my fear.
Duke stares at me, still unsure. With haunted eyes, he nods. He understands. Some battles you have to conquer alone. He dashes toward the tree, leaping over flames, dodging needles and lightning bolts.
The others are urging him on, waving frantically.
“Hurry!”
“You can do it!”
“Run!”
He lifts his hand to touch the trunk, then stops. His palm is inches from the bark.
“What’s wrong?” Mary asks. “What are you waiting for?”
Slowly, he turns to face the Seeker. The monster creeps closer.
“Having doubts? This is your home,” it says.
Duke stares at it, his expression cold and disgusted. He takes in every inch of the monster’s form, slowly.
“Hyde and Zee … they were a means to an end. But you …” The Seeker’s black wings flap, as if it is waving Duke forward for an embrace. “You’re mine. There were other kids I could have taken first, but you were special. Strong. The perfect child to begin my world.”
Duke’s face crumbles. Tears slide from the corners of his eyes. “Why?”
The Seeker’s head tilts. “Why not? Someone always has to start the game. There’s always a player number one.”
Duke jolts. His tears dry up as he gawks at the Seeker.
“There’s nothing for you back there now, but here you have me.”
“Eighty. Years,” Duke says, shaking with fury. “Hiding, running, playing your twisted game. I might have been your beginning. But now I get to be a part of your end.” A cold smile tilts his lips. He slams his palm against the tree. “Safe!”
In an instant, the needles fall to the ground. The shadows and flames disappear. The lightning sizzles out. The webs float away on a cool breeze. The spiders vanish. Duke is free and fearless.
The monster trembles violently, then tosses back its head and howls. The others may have weakened it by making it to home base, but Duke wounded it. Cheers erupt, muffling the Seeker’s rage.
I yank my arms out of Not-Mom’s grip. Now it’s my turn. The Seeker zooms forward and stands next to her scary, decaying corpse.
“It’s over,” I say, my voice shaky.
Not-Mom leans down so our faces are almost touching. I fight not to gag as I smell her rotting flesh.
“I love you.”
Tears fill my eyes and trickle down my sunken cheeks. “My mom did, but you’re not my mom. She’s … she’s … dead.” The words cut my throat.
“I can be alive if you want me to,” Not-Mom says.
I blink and her appearance changes again. Her long hair grows until it reaches her shoulders. Her eyes are bright and smiling. She smells like sunshine and honeys
uckles.
“Stay with me,” she says. “Don’t you want me back? We can be happy here.”
“This isn’t real. You’ll change back like before,” I whisper.
In the background, I hear my friends calling to me. I turn in their direction, but she forces my head back around and cups my face. “It can be real if you want it to be,” she says. “Stay. We’ll be happy together. You won’t feel so lost anymore. This is where you belong, with me.”
I place my hands over hers on my cheeks. She smiles and my heart grows warmer in my chest. Good memories of my mom play like a movie in my head. I’m happy.
“I’m your safe place,” she says. “Remember this?” She extends her arm and opens her closed fist. A puzzle piece rests in her palm.
I gasp and reach into my pocket. My piece is gone. How—
“This is from our last puzzle together. You didn’t finish it because that would mean I was gone forever, right?”
I swallow hard and nod.
“We can finish it together. Look.” She points across the backyard. Only it doesn’t look like the backyard anymore; it’s my house. The kitchen. A puzzle sits on the table. “Once this one is done, we can start another one. We don’t ever have to finish. We never have to end.”
She takes my hand in hers and leads me away from the tree and my friends. Their voices fade away. In a daze, I follow. My body doesn’t feel like my own. Her soft, calming voice is in my head, telling me how smart, funny, and strong I am. She makes plans to cook all my favorite meals, to take me to all the places we never got to travel to.
Her hand tightens around mine. I glance down to where she holds me and spot the 399 on my wrist. The mark. The Seeker. I stop abruptly and my head jerks back up to my mom. She smiles encouragingly. I blink and a shadow passes over her face. The decaying corpse reappears. Not-Mom.
“You’re not real. I want you to be, but you’re not.” I yank out of her hold. “My real mom wouldn’t want me living with my fear forever. She’d want me free.”
The Seeker’s growl makes my knees wobble.
“Justin!” my friends yell.
I spin around to see them waving for me to hurry. I race toward the tree.
Not-Mom ghosts around me to block my path. “You don’t love me. If you did, you wouldn’t leave.”
