“There’s no use running anymore, Deshaun,” the clown says. “Although if you would like to keep running, you can. I have you here now, and I quite like chasing. It’s fun. Aren’t you having fun?”
I can’t move. My feet are frozen to the floor. All I can do is watch the clown as it nears, as the balloon in its hand slowly twists around to face me.
“Your friends don’t want you anymore,” the clown says. “They never did. But I’ll be your friend. We’re all friends here. We can play together. Forever. Wouldn’t you like that?”
The clown kneels down in front of me. Holds out the balloon.
My hand trembles.
“Take it,” the clown says. “Take it, and we’ll play.”
My hand tries to reach up to take the balloon, moving of its own accord, as if the clown can control even that. I fight it back. My fingers shake as I try to keep control. Don’t take the balloon, don’t take the balloon …
“TAKE IT!” the clown roars, its face contorting in rage, becoming even more shadowed and monstrous.
My control slips.
My hand reaches up to take the balloon.
But the moment my fingers are inches from the string, the balloon completes its revolution and faces me.
On it is Kyle’s face. Serpents writhe around him.
His eyes are wide, and his mouth is open in a scream.
We walk the rest of the way home in silence.
I don’t know what to say.
I don’t know what to do.
I know in my heart that that wasn’t Kyle and Deshaun up there. I know what I’ve seen. I know what the clown is doing. But that knowledge doesn’t help when Andres is the only other one who believes what’s happening, and even he is having a hard time keeping the clown’s tricks from getting under his skin. I keep glancing over at April, who walks with tears in her eyes and her arms crossed over her chest. She stares out at the night with a dreadful sort of resolve.
She’s already made up her mind.
Maybe she still believes the clown is back.
Maybe she believes Andres and me.
But I know, from that expression, that she also believes that Kyle and Deshaun are against us now, and that the three of us are on our own. A deep, dark part of me fears that she is correct.
As we cross over the now-empty streets, the houses dark and the yards filled with shadowed pumpkins and decorations, it’s easy for me to believe that as well. It’s just us left.
The moment I think it, shadows creep from the houses.
They spread over the lawns like oil, covering everything in darkness. Shadows twine around the street lamps, engulfing them, swallowing the light.
Until it’s just the road in front of us.
I narrow my eyes and keep my breathing focused.
It’s just the clown. It’s just the clown.
The rest of the world isn’t actually gone.
Even if it feels like it.
Somehow, I manage to make my way home; the moment we turn onto my street, the lights return, and there’s my house, warm and glowing and safe.
When we walk up the driveway, my dad opens the door and steps out.
“Where are the rest of you?” he asks.
“Kyle and Deshaun went back to their house,” I say quickly. “Something about not sleeping well on a sofa.”
My dad frowns but quickly perks up again. “Well, their loss! I have some hot chocolate on the stove for you. It just needs to be heated up.” He hesitates. “Just, um, ignore the mess in the kitchen. I could not find that rat for the life of me.”
Andres and I share a look as we walk in. April walks sullenly behind us. She doesn’t even linger in the kitchen while I warm up the hot cocoa; she heads straight downstairs. My dad goes to his room, and it’s just Andres and me, standing in the kitchen, which—as Dad had warned—is a complete mess. The cupboards are all open and rooted through—even the ones way up top—and the counters are a mess of kitchen utensils and odds and ends. I note a few new mousetraps in the corners. Empty, of course. I’m sure they’ll remain that way forever.
There’s no way they could trap the clown’s nightmare creatures.
“What are we going to do?” Andres asks when April is out of earshot. “We know that Kyle and Deshaun are in trouble. I mean, that wasn’t them up there or on the phone, right?”
I can see from his eyes that he’s worried, and I know he isn’t so much worried that they’ve been taken but that they might not be. That it might have been them on the phone and in the bedroom.
“It’s the clown,” I say soothingly, and almost laugh because I don’t know why that’s supposed to make either of us feel better. “It feeds on our fears. All of our fears. It’s getting smarter. It knows we aren’t just scared of sharks and ghosts anymore.”
Andres sighs and slouches against the counter.
“I wish it was still just sharks and ghosts. At least then I knew what was real and what wasn’t.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did you?”
“Well, not all the time,” he admits with a grin. The grin slips. “I’m worried about her.”
“She just needs time. She’s worried about everyone, that’s all.”
“But what are we going to do?” he asks.
“We are going to drink hot chocolate,” I reply. I ladle him a huge mug and hand it over, then pour one for myself and one for April. “And we’re going to go downstairs and make a plan and that way, when the morning comes, we’ll be ready and rested.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asks. “What if Kyle or Deshaun need us now?”
“I have no doubt that they do need us now,” I reply. “I don’t want to wait around either, but what are we going to do? Right now, April is convinced she saw Kyle and Deshaun at home. That leaves you and me. What could we do? We don’t know where the boys actually are. Even if we did, I don’t think we’d be any help. None of us are thinking straight. We know the clown wants to scare us. So we have to believe that means it wants to keep us alive. It can’t scare a dead kid.” I feel horrible the moment I say it. I refuse to think that Kyle and Deshaun might be dead. No. They’re alive. Somewhere. And we have to be smart if we’re going to have any hope of finding them.
“If you say so,” Andres says.
“I do,” I reply. “We need to stick together. April will see sense after a good night’s sleep. I know it. We just have to wait a few more hours until morning. They’ll be fine. I’m sure.”
I swallow my fear, as well as the words that repeat in my head: This is your fault. This is your fault. And if they actually are in danger, it’s your fault if they get hurt.
All we know is that the clown has taken seven people, and that most of them were last seen near the carnival. We know that last time, we had to face our fears to defeat the clown. And we know that until we are able to face it together, we don’t stand a chance.
It’s not much more than we knew from the beginning, but before we can get into any sort of productive planning, we pass out.
The next thing I know, Caroline’s dad (okay, Tim) is knocking on the wall of the basement, a tray of donuts and coffee mugs in hand.
“Knock, knock,” he says. “Sorry, didn’t want to wake you, but it’s almost noon and I figured you wouldn’t want to sleep the whole day away.”
“Noon?” Caroline yelps, sitting upright. “That’s so late.”
“I know,” Tim says, coming in and setting the donuts on the coffee table between us. “I was surprised. Figured you all were up late watching movies and eating too much candy. Sugar crash. So, here’s a bit more sugar to get you up and running again.”
“Thanks Mr.—Tim,” I say. I grab for a donut while he heads upstairs.
When he’s safely out of earshot, Caroline looks between April and me.
“Did you have any nightmares?” she asks.
I shake my head. April does as well. There are dark circles under her eyes that tell me she didn’t sleep as w
ell as Caroline and I did, though.
“Same,” Caroline says. “It’s … I don’t know, it makes me nervous. Why wasn’t it haunting us last night?”
I shrug. “Maybe it got bored?”
April glares at me.
“Do you have a better reason?” I ask her. I stuff another donut in my mouth. I have a feeling I’m going to need a lot of sugar to get through today.
“No,” April admits. “I also haven’t gotten any texts from Deshaun. Or Kyle.”
I check my phone. Caroline checks hers. Neither of us has any texts. Well, I have one from my mom wondering when I’ll be home, and one from my brother Marco saying … nothing worth repeating aloud.
“I’m worried,” April says. “It’s too quiet. This feels too normal.”
And yes, she’s right, but that doesn’t mean I like hearing it. I’d much rather we pretend the clown just left town and everything is okay now, but I know that’s not the case.
“I’ve decided that you’re right,” April continues. She looks to both of us, then to her hands. She’s removed the bandages we put on before she went to bed, and her hands seem to have mostly healed, but they still look painful. “I don’t want to believe that was really Kyle and Deshaun on the phone. I … I know what I saw in the graveyard.” She flexes her fingers. “I know what I felt. I’m not going to let the clown get to me like that. But that means that both of them are in trouble. Because we most definitely didn’t see them in Deshaun’s window. That had to have been the clown.”
I flinch at the thought of the clown being in Deshaun’s room. Of all of us, Deshaun took the most time to ensure his room would be safe—he put out crystals and used incense and bowls of salt and all sorts of things to keep bad energy and spirits away. If that hadn’t been enough …
“Which means,” April continues, “we need to find them. I want to go by their house today. I want to see if they came home at all last night. If not, we go back to the graveyard and the carnival and retrace our steps. There has to be a clue. There has to be a way to save the others. Maybe if the three of us go back and try to dig up the grave, we can get somewhere.”
“Maybe we should text them first,” I say.
“No,” April says. “I don’t want to let the clown know we’re coming. I don’t want it to know that we’re onto its tricks.”
Now that we’re awake and talking about it, I want nothing more than to run out the door and find Kyle. I have to know he’s all right. I have to know that he and Deshaun aren’t taken.
In that moment, not even the donuts taste good.
I don’t know what’s going on.
I don’t know if Kyle needs my help or if he truly does want to be rid of me.
Either way, I feel totally helpless.
“It will be okay,” Caroline says, putting her hand on my arm. “We’ll save them.”
I look to her, and there’s a resolve in her face that fills me with determination: She knows that they’re in trouble, and she’s convinced we have what it takes to help.
I have to hope she’s right.
We don’t linger. After we’ve each had a donut (or, in my case, three) and changed out of pajamas, we head out the door. Caroline’s dad doesn’t even ask where we’re going. We head straight to Deshaun’s.
And maybe it’s my imagination, but …
“Does it seem awfully quiet to you?” I ask.
“I was thinking the same thing,” April replies. Caroline just nods, her eyes focused on the road.
The empty road.
And okay, it’s not like a ton of people walk in this town, but it’s Saturday and the sky is sunny and clear and it’s fairly warm, and there is no one out. Like, literally no one. It feels like a ghost town. What’s stranger is that there aren’t any cars driving around either.
Jack-o’-lanterns sit dark on porches and sidewalks, not a single one of them smashed. A few houses have trees covered in toilet paper out front, but that’s it. Ghost decorations sway lazily in the breeze, and leaves scuttle over the sidewalks.
No one is out walking their dog.
No one is going for a casual weekend stroll.
No kids are building leaf piles and jumping in.
The street is completely silent. No cars in the distance, no kids practicing instruments for band, no music, no TV, no yelling or giggling.
No screaming.
Our town is completely silent, and it scares me half to death.
“Something’s wrong,” I say.
“We’re nearly there,” Caroline replies. Neither she nor April contradict me. They’ve both gone as silent and intense as the world outside.
When we get to Deshaun’s house, none of us rush up the front steps. We stand there, staring at the windows, waiting for some sign of movement or life.
Nothing.
The curtains are all closed.
“Let’s go as a group,” April says.
“Yeah,” Caroline and I say in unison.
“But be ready to run at any time,” I say.
Neither of them says that that’s overreacting. Right now, it feels like an underreaction.
We nervously make our way to the house, huddling close together. Our feet creak on the wooden porch. It’s honestly the only sound out here—even the birds are silent.
Maybe that sound was enough, or maybe someone was waiting, but the door opens right as April’s finger hovers over the doorbell.
At first, I don’t see anyone inside. The entryway is pitch-black, too dark for this time of day.
None of us move.
None of us dare step inside.
“You came to visit me,” says a voice within.
Deshaun’s voice. And Kyle’s voice. In unison. But also not them at all.
I take a step back. April and Caroline huddle behind me.
Shadows shift.
And out from the darkness steps the clown.
I flinch back, into April and Caroline, as the clown steps forward. Its smile splits its face, and in each hand it holds a blue balloon.
One balloon with Kyle’s face on it.
One with Deshaun’s.
“They came to play with me too,” says the clown. “In fact, I spent all night finding others to join. Won’t that be fun?”
The clown grows as it speaks, fills the doorway, cracks the frame.
“You three hurt my feelings,” it growls. “You locked me away when all I wanted was to have some fun. But I have waited. I have grown. You thought you knew fear before, but now, children, now you will really know what it’s like to be afraid!”
Deshaun’s house rattles and groans as the clown grows, snapping the doorframe and sending dust and splinters down. But that’s not the only sound. Screaming. I hear screaming.
It takes a moment to realize it’s coming from the balloons.
“Run!” I yell.
The three of us kick into gear. We turn and stumble down the porch as, behind us, Deshaun’s house collapses in a roar of concrete and wood.
We run down the block, and when I turn and look back at the house … it’s completely intact. The front door is closed.
The only sign of the clown is the two blue balloons, now tied to the banister. Even from here I can see my friends’ faces.
“What was that?” April says.
I flip around to look at her.
“Did you see it? Did you see anything?” I ask.
“No,” she replies. Her eyes are filled with tears. “The door opened, but I didn’t see or hear anything, and then you just yelled at us to run.”
“The clown,” I say. “It was the clown. It said … it said it had taken Kyle and Deshaun. It said it was spending last night gathering more friends, but I don’t know what it means.”
“I think I do,” Caroline says, her voice shaking.
I turn around, my blood growing cold from the fear in her voice.
Behind us, a line of our classmates stands in the street.
Big red smiles painted on
their faces.
Black diamonds around their eyes.
Their eyes burning bright blue.
“Can you see them?” Andres asks.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice cracking. And I really, really wish I couldn’t.
It’s all our classmates. Lined up in a row like they’re taking a school photo. They’re in their Halloween costumes—pirates and ghosts and cats and angels. Except they’re all wearing the twisted face paint of the clown.
As one, they step forward.
“Let’s get out of here,” Andres says.
“Where?” Caroline asks.
“Anywhere!” I reply.
We bolt ahead and turn down a side street.
I turn back as we round the corner. The kids don’t chase us. Instead, their smiles widen and they all tilt their heads to the same side as we flee.
They’re watching.
Waiting.
For what?
I don’t have long to wonder.
In moments, the town breaks into chaos.
If the streets were silent before, in one fell swoop, they fill with people and noise.
As soon as we pass, adults run out of their houses, screaming, batting at unseen monstrosities. Kids run with them, howling in fear as they’re chased out of their homes. They don’t seem to know where they’re running or what’s going on—they jump out into the street, flood the sidewalks.
“What’s going on?” I yell.
Both Caroline’s and Andres’s eyes are wide, their skin pale.
“Help me!” a woman behind us yells out. “They’re everywhere!” Then she screams and runs off, swiping at the invisible monsters flying around her.
“We have to get out of here,” Caroline says.
“But where do we go?” Andres says. “If the whole town’s like this …”
She swallows. She doesn’t have an answer.
“What about our families?” I ask. I suddenly imagine Freddy and Mom having lunch, only to be assaulted by terrible nightmares. It makes my heart clench. “What if they’re like this too?”
“We can’t help our families unless we defeat the clown,” Andres says, trying to keep his voice calm and level. He sounds a lot like Deshaun. “It’s the only way.”
The Fear Zone 2 Page 10
