Locker 13 (10 page)

And melted into another form.

Melted and grew taller. Taller … The cat became a human figure, dressed all in black, wrapped in a broad, black coat down to the floor, its face hidden in the darkness of a black hood.

Hidden. All hidden … except for the eyes—those horrifying, fiery eyes.

“Wh-who are you? What do you want?” I startled myself by crying out those words. I didn't think I could speak.

My whole body trembled. I pressed myself against the wall to keep from falling to my knees.

The hooded figure stepped silently away from the open locker. A hoarse rasp burst out from under the hood, a whisper like the crackle of dead leaves: “
The luck has run out, Luke.
”

“No!” I gasped.

A bony hand swung out from the sleeve of the black coat—and swiped the skull away from me.

“No!” I cried in protest. “No! No!”

“
The luck is over.
”

“Who are you?” I shrieked in a tight, terrified voice. “Wh-who? How did you get in my locker? What do you want?” I screamed in total panic.

“
The luck is over.
”

“It can't be!” I cried. “It can't be! I need it!”

“
Over
…” the hooded figure rasped. “
Over
…
over
…”

The red eyes glowed from under the hood. The bony hand held the tiny skull in front of the broad black coat.

“I need that luck!” I wailed. “I need that skull!”

And I grabbed it back. Grabbed it out of the bony hand.

“I need it! I
have
to have it!”

I raised the skull in front of me. Stared hard at it.

What was
wrong
with it? Something wriggling on it … wriggling in my hand … crawling over my palm …

“Ohhhh.” I let out a moan as I saw. The skull was covered … crawling … crawling with hundreds of maggots!

 

The skull fell from my hand and bounced across the floor. I frantically shook my hand, scraped it against the wall, brushing the disgusting maggots off my skin.

Under the black hood the red eyes glowed brighter. “
You enjoyed a lot of good luck, Luke,
” the figure said in his hoarse croak. “
But the luck has ended. And now you must pay for it.
”

“Huh? Pay?” I felt my throat tighten. I stared at the fiery eyes, trying to see a face, trying to see who was speaking to me from under that hood.

“Luke—I'm so sorry!” a voice called.

I turned to find Hannah wheeling herself rapidly down the hall, leaning forward in her wheelchair, turning the wheels with both hands.

“Hannah—? What—?” I couldn't find any words.

“I'm so sorry,” she repeated. As she wheeled herself closer, I saw tears brimming in her eyes, rolling down her red-blotched face.

“Sorry?” I repeated, my head spinning in confusion.

“He made me do it!” she wailed. “You have to believe me, Luke. I didn't want to. Really! But he made me!”

She grabbed my hand. Squeezed it tightly. Her hand was as cold as ice. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“
Very touching!
” the hooded figure rasped coldly.

“Hannah—he made you do
what
?” I asked.

“He—he made me give you the skull!” Hannah stammered, still squeezing my hand.

“Huh?” I let out a startled cry. “You
gave
it to me? But I thought I found it. I thought—”

“I had the good luck for a long time,” Hannah said, wiping her wet cheeks with both hands. “Remember when I had so much good luck? Then it ran out. The skull went dark. And he forced me—he forced me to pass the skull on to you!”

I stared at her in disbelief. “But who is he?” I cried. “How can he do this?”

“
Haven't you guessed
?” the hooded figure boomed. The red eyes glowed like two angry suns. “
Haven't you figured it out yet, Luke? I am the Fate Master. I decide who has good luck and who has bad!
”

“No,” I whispered. “That's … crazy.”

“It's the truth,” Hannah said, her voice breaking. “He controls me. And now you.”

“
Luke
,” the evil figure whispered, lowering himself toward me. “
Did you really think you could have all that good luck without paying for it
?”

“I didn't want to give the skull to you,” Hannah whispered, holding on to my arm. “I gave you a chance to hand it back to me, remember? Remember during my game? I asked if you had seen it?”

I nodded sadly, feeling my face grow hot.

“I knew you had it. Why didn't you give it back then?” Hannah demanded. “I gave you a chance to return it. I didn't want you to keep it.”

“
Too late for that now!
” the Fate Master rasped. “
Now you are BOTH mine!
”

“No way!” I protested. “I don't believe any of this! This can't be happening! It—it's some kind of bad joke!”

“It's not a joke,” Hannah whispered. “Look at me.” She pointed to her red-blotched face, her bandaged foot, the wheelchair.

“No!” I insisted. “It won't happen to me! I won't let it! I'll—I'll make my own luck!”

The bulky, black coat shook as the Fate Master uttered a hoarse laugh. It sounded more like dry coughing than laughter. “
Young man, do you really think you can go up against FATE? I control EVERYTHING that happens! Do you really think you can defy FATE?
”

“I don't care what you say!” I screamed. “I'm not going to be some kind of slave! You can't control me! You can't!”

The Fate Master sighed. The red eyes faded inside the hood.
“Do I really have to prove myself to you? Okay. So be it.
”

He leaned closer. So close that I could see into the hood. I could see that he had no face! Just two glowing eyes floating in blackness.

“Luke
—
that concussion you had in the gym?
” he rasped.
“I'm afraid it's much worse than you thought. Feel your ears.
”

“Huh?” My hands shot up to my ears. I felt wetness.

Warm wetness.

I lowered my hands. My fingers dripped with blood.

My ears were bleeding!

I felt the warm blood pour down my earlobes, trickle down the sides of my face.

Frantically I pressed the palms of my hands against my ears.

“
That won't stop the bleeding, Luke
,” the Fate Master whispered. “
That blood won't clot. It's just going to keep pouring out. Bad luck, I'm afraid. Very bad luck.
”

“No—please!” I pleaded. “Make it stop!”

The eyes flared. “
Do you believe in me now? Do you believe that you belong to me?
”

“Okay,” I said. “Okay. I believe you.”

“
Your fate is in my hands—both of you. You must pay for the good luck you had. You must suffer bad luck now—
”

“No—please!” I begged. “I need more time. Things are just starting to go right for me. The basketball team … my animation … the swim team … I'll do anything. I need more time!”

“
NO MORE TIME!
” The hoarse rasp echoed off the tile walls. Angry flames shot out from the blackness of the hood.

“But—” I started, shrinking back beside Hannah.

“
I control you!
” the Fate Master boomed. “
I decide your luck from now on! Do you want me to go easy on the two of you? DO you?
”

“Y-yes,” I stammered. “I'll do anything. Anything!”

The Fate Master was silent for a long moment. The eyes faded, as if retreating into the distance, then glowed brightly again. “
If you want me to go easy on you both,” he said finally, “here's what you have to do….
”

 

“
Pass the skull on to another,
” the Fate Master ordered.

“Huh? You—you want me to give it to someone else?” I stammered.

The eyes sparked beneath the hood. “
Pass it to that big kid, the one called Stretch. I've had my eye on him. I will give him good luck for two months. Then I will claim him as mine.
”

“No, I can't do that!” I protested. “It isn't right! It isn't—”

The Fate Master uttered a furious growl. “
Then you will suffer bad luck your whole life. You and everyone in your family!
”

I shivered in fear. My mind spun. I felt the warm blood start to trickle from my ears again.

Could I do it? Could I trap Stretch the way I had been trapped?

I felt Hannah tug my arm. “You have to do it, Luke,” she whispered. “It's our only chance. Besides, Stretch has been asking for it—hasn't he? He's not a friend of yours. He's an enemy. Stretch has been asking for it all year.”

True. Stretch wasn't my friend. But could I be responsible for ruining Stretch's life? For turning him over to the Fate Master?

Hannah gazed up at me from the wheelchair with pleading eyes. “Do it,” she whispered. “Save us, Luke. Do it.”

I turned to the Fate Master. “Okay,” I choked out. “I'll do it.”

The eyes flashed, from red to sunlight yellow. The big coat opened and appeared to fly up. It raised itself over me like giant bat wings. Floated over me … then floated down.

I felt myself covered in a heavy darkness.

I couldn't move. It spread over me … blacker … blacker.

I felt so cold. So cold and lost. As if I had been buried, buried deep in the cold, cold ground.

And then I blinked and saw pinpoints of light. Flickering white lights that grew brighter, so bright I had to squint.

It took me a while to realize I was back in the gym. Back on the gym floor. A crowd huddled around me. Tight expressions, worried faces.

Someone leaned over me. A face came into focus. Coach Bendix stared down at me, the whistle hanging from his neck.

“Coach—?” I tried to speak, but the word came out a whisper.

“Don't move, Luke,” he said softly. “You've had a concussion, but you're going to be okay.”

“A concussion?”

“Lie still,” he instructed. “An ambulance is on the way.”

A concussion?

It didn't happen!
I realized.

The hooded figure with the glowing eyes. The Fate Master stepping out of locker 13. Taking away my good luck. Ordering me to pass the skull to Stretch.

It didn't happen!

It was a dream. A nightmare caused by my concussion.

I jumped to my feet. The floor swayed beneath me. The bleachers appeared to tilt to one side, then the other.

I saw Hannah in her wheelchair at the side of the bleachers.

She's still in the gym! I told myself happily. We never left the gym. It didn't happen. None of it happened.

I felt so happy.
So free
!

Before I even realized it, I was running. Running to the door.

“Luke! Hey—Luke! Stop!” I heard Coach Bendix calling to me.

And then I was out the gym doors. And racing through the dark, empty hallways. Running full speed.

So happy. And so eager to get away from there! Away from the school. Away from my nightmare.

Did I stop at my locker?

I must have stopped there because I had my jacket on when I burst outside. Into the frosty night air. I saw a tiny sliver of a moon high in a purple-black sky. I stopped for a second to breathe in the cold, fresh air.

Then I ran across the teachers' parking lot to the bike rack. I'd ridden my bike to school. And now I planned to put the pedal to the metal—to race all the way home.

“Yes!” So happy. I felt so happy, I could have
danced
all the way home.

I jumped on my bike. Grabbed the handlebars.

Whoa. Something wrong. A scraping sound.

I climbed off and glanced down. A flat tire. No.
Two
flat tires.

“Oh, wow,” I murmured. How did that happen?

No big deal. I'll get the bike tomorrow, I decided. I started to jog across the parking lot, heading to the street. My sneaker felt loose. I squatted down to tie the shoe lace—and it ripped between my hands.