Fire And Steel (The Merryweather Chronicles Book 2) (14 page)

      Gerrick said. "You weren't mistaken." He started walking again, leading Underhill up the drive and up the path to the front porch. The was a set or iron work furniture on the porch, a small round table and two chairs, which Gerrick gestured at. "So sit and start talking. What sort of help do you come begging for?"

      Underhill paused in the act of sitting, glaring hard at the other man. "Is that how a Tower Knight speaks to a guest under his roof? If so, I see that your reputation is well earned."

      Gerrick actually chuckled. He sat down opposite the old man and said. "The old dog still has teeth, it seems. Good. If I am to ally myself with you and those that you represent, I need to know you are serious about what you're about. You all very nearly got yourselves killed in the woods on your last hunt. I will not risk Brandon's life helping fools."

      Underhill nodded as he met the other's gaze. He said. "I thought we might have had help out there. The grohlm were too unfocused. Was Brandon with you?"

      Gerrick shook his head. "He was at the dance, with the Moody girl. He was making sure nothing happened there, while you and your friends played in the woods. There is more than one front in this war."

      Underhill agreed, but didn't say so. Instead, he said. "You call this a war? You’re mistaken on that account, Gerrick. These are just skirmishes. The real war is still on the horizon. My foolish friends, as you’d like to think of them, are trying to stop it coming to that. You think them foolhardy, but at least they are thinking more than one step ahead.”

      Gerrick said nothing.

      Underhill said. “I’m here, because we need help closing the gateway that the grohlm are using to get here. We know, as well as you do, that is the only explanation for their numbers.”

      “You realize the grohlm are only part of the problem.” Gerrick said, narrowing his eyes at the other man. “The doorway is being controlled by someone or something that the grohlm fear. Otherwise the things would be pouring out of the woods. They’re being held back by something stronger and more dangerous.”

      “And that scares you?” Underhill said with a raised eyebrow.

      Gerrick laughed. “It worries me. As it should you and your friends. There’s not much question in my mind who is controlling the grohlm. And Bran isn’t ready to face that kind of challenge. Not yet.”

      Underhill sighed and shook his head. “Are any of us ready? When the time comes, will you be?”

      Gerrick didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t know the answer. But because he didn’t like it.

      Brandon stopped walking when he heard the Krueger’s broken laughter from behind the Bus barn. He was alone, between classes and walking across campus. Lost in thought, in memories of the dream from the night before, it was a couple of seconds before his mind caught up with his ears and he paused. He heard another snicker, unmistakably Luke’s, then silence.

      Brandon’s first instinct was to rush off to see what sort of twisted nastiness they were up to, to rescue their latest victim, but he stopped himself. It was most likely another trap. Something cooked up with Albert’s help. He scanned his surroundings, noting a couple of other kids moving between classes, but no teachers.

      No witnesses to worry about. No teachers to stop it from going bad.

      Brandon took a deep breath and prepared to walk away, then another voice cried out in sudden surprise and pain. It wasn’t Albert or either of the Kruegers. Brandon was moving before he made any sort of rational decision, swift and silent as he slipped around the large metal building that housed the school’s small fleet of buses. The building sat close to the fence surrounding the school, creating a narrow alley that kids sometimes used to sneak cigarettes or the occasional joint.

      He found them halfway along the ally. The twins stood over another boy who was just pushing himself up after being knocked down. It took Brandon a moment to put a name to the kid’s face. Eric Golph. Brandon remembered him because Claire had pointed him out once. His father was one of the officers that disappeared with the Chief of police.

      Eric’s face was red with embarrassment and rage and he swung at Luke as he came to his feet. The punch went wide, but Luke flinched away as if it was a powerful haymaker, and saw Brandon watching. Perry’s nasty smile wilted and he looked around, as if expecting backup from somewhere. Possibly Albert, but the smaller boy was nowhere to be found.

      Everybody in the alley froze.

      This was the first time Brandon had faced the Kruegers since the dance and he was uncomfortably aware of how nervous he felt. He felt exposed. He kept expecting Albert to leap out of the shadows. It took a complete act of will for him to empty his mind of that nervousness, the fear that he didn’t want to admit was there, and face down the twins. Taking a step forward, he said. “Just walk away. Let’s not do this today. I’m too tired to play this game right now.”

      Luke looked from Brandon to his brother and snorted. Perry never took his eyes from Brandon’s gaze, but he directed his words to Eric. “This isn’t over, piggy. Next time, the orphan won’t be around to save your ass.” Then he gestured at his brother and said. “Let’s leave these two fairies alone. Looks like they wanna make out or something.”

      And they left. As simple as that.

      Brandon watched them go, tense until they disappeared from sight, then turned to help Eric up. And stumbled back a step when Eric shoved him hard in the chest. The boy was a freshman and smaller than Brandon, but he managed to knock the older boy back a couple of steps. Brandon caught himself before he did anything to retaliate, looking around to make sure the Kruegers hadn’t turned back.

      But they were long gone. It was just him and Eric, alone in the alley.

      Eric was crying, his face red as he took another swing at Brandon. Brandon swatted the boy’s fist away without hurting him and said. “Eric, stop it. They’re gone. They’re not going to hurt you anymore.”

      Eric backed off a step, but he wasn’t calming down. His face was still red as he said. “Fuck you, Merryweather. Just leave me alone.” Turning, he stalked away, not seeming to care if he ran headfirst into the Kruegers, just so long as he was away from Brandon.

      Brandon watched him go, not at all sure how to feel. The Kruegers had left without a fight and Eric had escaped with minor damage. It should have felt like a win. But Brandon had never felt less like a winner before in his life, except maybe when he was on the ground being beaten by Albert. He left the alley slowly, watching for Eric and the Kruegers, but found himself alone as he went to class.

      He didn’t see Sha’ha’Zel watching from the bus barn’s roof, his cloak moving in the non-existent breeze. The Curse studied the school below and felt the endgame moving closer to completion. All he had to do was make sure Brandon Merryweather lived long enough to meet his appointed end.

CHAPTER 14

      The weeks leading up to Thanksgiving were quiet. At least by Matheson standards. After the disastrous attempt by the remaining police force and the F.B.I. to hunt the things responsible for the missing children, the town council extended the curfew for the foreseeable future. Despite the extension, there were 4 more disappearances during the month of November. The first was the manager of a local motel. Rijul disappeared while taking out the trash. Leaving behind a smear of blood and a single mangled shoe, he was listed as missing. Possible animal attack. His wife was distraught, but after a visit from the town council’s representative she agreed that more publicity would only hinder the investigation. She refused to talk to the local paper.

      The next to vanish were Eddie Young and Carla Smith. The young couple decided to go parking near the lake. For some light necking and maybe a little on top of the clothes action. Only their car was found, the interior splashed with blood and gore. The dash and seat were torn to shreds. Bits and pieces of the couple were splattered all over the inside of the car.

      The last person to disappear was a teenager named Donny Meltzer.

      Donny blinked at the girl on the other side of the table and said. "You're kidding, right?" He leaned on his elbows and shook his head. "You want to break up with me?"

      Heather flipped her hair over her shoulder and sighed. She smacked her chewing gum loudly and wouldn't meet his gaze when she spoke. She said. "Don't make a scene, Donny."

      "Why?" Donny said. He sat up and looked at the rest of the room. The Lumberjack was only half full that evening. "You scared that someone might hear how you just broke my heart? Or are you just afraid I might embarrass you again?"

      "Jesus, Donny." Heather stood up and drew her purse strap up over her shoulder. She glared down at him. "You're only embarrassing yourself. Like always. When you finally decide to grow up a little, give me a call." She left, leaving Donny sitting there with a dumb look on his face as the rest of the diners tried to ignore the scene he’d just made.

      Donny got up and followed Heather outside. She turned, catching him as the door closed behind him, and said. "Stop it, Donny. Please, just stop it." She shook her head. "I need some time. Can you do that for me? Just give me time."

      Donny shook his head and said. "You can't leave me, Heather. Not like this. Not after all we’ve been through together. I love you." He tried to grab her by the arm, to stop her, but Heather shook his hand off.

      "I'm going home, Donny." Heather said. She tossed her hair and ran a hand through it as she thought. "You should too. There's still a curfew, you know?"

      "Fuck the curfew." Donny said. "We need to finish this talk before you leave."

      "I told you what I need, Donny. I need you to leave me alone." Heather turned and left.

      Donny watched her go. She hopped into her car, a bright yellow VW Bug, and drove away without looking back. Donny stood on the sidewalk and watched her vanishing taillights for a long time before turning and heading in the opposite direction. There were people on the sidewalks of downtown Matheson, moving about, going from shop to shop like there was no curfew and no reason to be afraid of the night.

      Donny left main street, cutting across Lake View Avenue, and walked through Wrenn Park. There weren't many people in the park. Those stupid enough to be out after dark were at least smart enough to stay away from the darker corners. Everyone was scared of being the next one to vanish into the night, but didn’t want to let anybody see that fear.

      But not Donny. He didn’t care who saw him and who didn’t. And he wasn’t scared of the dark. Never had been. Walking through the dark, he heard traffic moving on the street and laughter from the happy people. He was sure none of those people were going through the same things as himself. How could they be, walking around with their happy smiles and oblivious eyes?

      He was crossing over a low wooden bridge, the sodium arch lights reflected in the water below, when he heard a splash from below him.

      Stopping, Donny leaned over the bridge's wooden railing and stared down into the black. There was a ripple below him as something moved in the water. Donny stood up straight and said. "What the hell?"

      With a screech and an explosion of icy cold water, something leapt out of the lake. It flew straight up at Donny's face, hitting him in the chest, and knocked him back into the other rail. Donny screamed and tried to fight the thing, whatever it was, as it dug its claws into his shoulders and began to chew on the side of his neck. The only impression he could make of it in the darkness was of teeth and wet slimy skin. Its skin was slick and covered in thin scales, like a fish, and Donny's hands could find no purchase on the creature as he tried to pry it off.

      Spinning, Donny dropped to the ground, trying to pin the attacker between his body and the wooden bridge. It stopped biting him long enough to hiss in his ear, before snapping its jaws and biting the ear off. Hot blood ran down the side of Donny's neck and his scream turned into an open throated bellow. He could smell the monster's breath as it pulled back and threw its head back long enough to swallow Donny's ear. When it looked back down, its black eyes blinked in the pale glow of the streetlights. Instead of trying to pull the fish thing off, Donny decided to change his tactics and punched it in the chest.

      It tore loose and hit the side of the railing, squealing and lashing its tiny clawed arms at the air, and Donny kicked out at it before it could come at him. His boot caught it in the side of the head and it tumbled off of the bridge and splashed back into the water below.

      Getting to his feet, Donny ran for his life. Crossing to the other side of the bridge, he followed the little track that ran through and around the Park, leaving the water behind him. He heard splashing around him as more of the things came out of the water and pursued him into the darkness. He screamed as he ran. Surely a cop or some good Samaritan would hear him and come to help?

      Donny was crossing under the light of one of the overhead lamps, when he stopped running and caught his breath, listening for the little monsters. His neck was still bleeding pretty badly and he was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. He pressed one of his hands to the wound in his neck, trying to stop the flow of blood, and turned in a circle, studying the shadows.

      It was quiet.

      Donny began walking, leaving the reassuring cone of light and moving in the direction of main street. He just had to make it to other people and he'd be safe. They wouldn't attack him if other people were around. He didn't know if he was right about that, but it felt right. Walking quickly, his hand still pressed against his neck, Donny stayed on the sidewalk as much as he could. Listening hard for the sound of anything that might be following him, he didn't realize how much trouble he was in until it was too late.

      He was crossing under another cone of soft yellow light when, behind him, he noticed one of the lamps winking off. Then another. Then another. Moving quickly toward him, the darkness was becoming a perfect thing. Ahead, the lamps were still glowing along the path to safety. Donny watched the lamps go dark, marching their slow flickering way to himself, and decided that he needed to move faster.

      Picking up speed, Donny could suddenly hear them behind him, pacing him as he ran. They twittered and laughed. The sound was like ice water being pumped into his veins. The sound wasn't human. And they were getting closer.

      Up ahead, four lamps away, Donny could see where the track ended and the street began. He ran faster. Behind him, the lights were going out at a faster rate. If Donny could have flown up and watched from the sky, as a bird saw, he would have screamed to see how the darkness was catching up to him. He was still two lights away from the street when the light closest to the street went out, throwing the path in front of him into perfect darkness.

      From somewhere behind him, Donny heard a sound that might have been a scream. A girl's scream. Donny didn't know this, but the scream came from Carla Smith. She and her boyfriend had parked up at the Lake View Turnout, so they could look at the stars and at each other. Their make out session was interrupted when a creature that looked like a freakish cross between a mountain cat and a troll threw itself through the car's open window and tore off Carla's boyfriend's face.

      Donny was panting and making a tiny whining noise in the back of his throat. The last light behind him went out, leaving only the cone of orange yellow light that he stood in to protect him from the night. Around him, lurking in the darkness, Donny heard them moving, whispering, and growling. A couple of times, he thought he saw a bit of fur or the glint of eyes as one got a little too close to the light. The front of Donny's shirt was black with blood and he could feel sweat pouring down his face.

      He was going to die. He knew it. There was no lying to himself. Not now.

      He thought of Heather, at home in her nice warm house. Her nice safe house. And he wanted to go over and choke her to death for doing this to him. It was her fault he was here, about to die. Spitting a gob of blood at the things watching him, Donny twisted his face into an ugly smile and said, his voice hard and unafraid. "What are you waiting for? Let's get this over with."

      The light above him flickered and went out. And the monsters came.

      People heard Donny's screams, as well as the screams from Carla and her boyfriend, and they hurried home. As winter drew closer and the nights grew longer, more and more people found reasons to be home before dark. Kids decided that playing indoors was better than being outside. And if they didn’t figure it out, their parents decided it for them. The parks that Matheson was so proud of began to stay empty. Even during the day.

      Matheson folded in on itself. The town losing its vitality as the days wore on and the nights becoming darker. Deadlier. Everybody felt it. From the old men, sitting on their stools at The Lumberjack, eyeing each other with distrust and suspicion. To the little old ladies, gossiping quietly at the nursing home while watching the creeping shadows outside.

      Something bad was living in the woods and the empty places. Something that was becoming stronger every day that went by and nothing was done to curtail it. But something worse was coming.

      Something evil.