The Beast From the East (7 page)

Spork started to wobble.

“Game—
unpaused
!” I shouted.

Spork didn’t seem to hear me. He teetered and stumbled into a tree.

“Freeze!” I shouted.

Spork froze in place.

I leaped at him and tagged him. Hard.

From the east.

“You’re It!” I shouted. I backed away. “I tagged you from the east! This time
you’re really It!”

Spork placed both paws against his head and closed his eyes. I could tell he
was still dizzy. He spread his legs and balanced himself against the tree.

He bopped himself in the face with his paw. “You did it,” he agreed. He ran
his bumpy tongue over his lips. He exhaled a deep breath. “I’m It,” he admitted.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” I cried. I jumped up in excitement.

Spork plopped down against the boulder.

“I’m free!” I shrieked. “The game is over.” I clenched my hand into a fist
and pumped my arm.

“I’m going to rescue Nat,” I said. “Which way is he?”

Spork pointed his clawed finger to my right.

“We’re outta here!” I shouted.

I’d never been so happy in all my life.

“Well, Spork old pal,” I said, beaming at him. “This is good-bye. See you!”

“Not so quick,” Spork said. “I’m afraid you can’t leave.”

“Forget it,” I said. “You can’t change the rules again! No way.”

“You can’t leave,” he repeated. “The game continues until sunset.” He glared
at me stubbornly.

I gazed at the sky. The purple was fading to gray. Not much time left. But
enough.

I wasn’t going to be It again.

I could hide until dark. But where?

“Don’t just stand there,” Spork warned. “You could be tagged again.”

“Never,” I insisted. “I won’t let that happen.”

Before I could move, Fleg stomped from behind a tree. The flabby skin under
his chin swung from side to side.

Gleeb crept behind him.

“She tagged me!” Spork told them.

“I knew it!” Fleg stared at me. “I knew you played this game before.”

I balled my hands into fists. I was angry. I’d had enough.

They forced me to play their stupid game. But I wasn’t going to lose now.

Fleg waved me away. “You have until I count to trel,” he said. “Then we’re
allowed to come after you again.”

He turned his back and covered his eyes. “Gling… proo… zee… freen… trel,” he counted.

I had no choice. I ran.

Don’t stop, I told myself. Don’t think about anything. Run. Find a place to
hide.

“Ready or not—here we come!” I heard Fleg cry.

Behind me, the beasts growled and grunted in excitement.

I hurled myself off the path and pushed through the tall, scratchy grass
between the trees. I jumped over a clump of cabbage plants.

My legs ached. My feet burned.

But I couldn’t stop.

Not until I reached a hiding place.

I skidded to a stop when I heard rushing water. I nearly fell into the
stream. A large blue fish leaped out of the water and snapped at my ankles.

This was no place to hide. I turned back into the woods.

A cold wind blew in my face. The gourds whistled their strange melody.

“Here I come!” Spork shouted off to my left.

I pushed myself faster. No way he was going to tag me.

I glanced around. Which way?

The rock tunnel! I saw it only a few feet away.

I darted into the darkness. Without the beasts yelling and shouting, it was
eerily quiet inside. I slowed down and tiptoed through the tunnel.

When I reached the other side, I crept into the dense trees. I slumped
against a tree and waited, trying to keep quiet. I was breathing so hard I was
afraid the beasts could hear me!

A moment passed.

I felt the trembling that meant the beasts were approaching.

I held my breath and ducked beneath an umbrella plant.

Seconds later, Fleg, Spork, and Gleeb burst out of the tunnel and raced down
the path. Four more beasts followed behind them. They passed the bush where I
hid. Crashed into the woods. And kept going.

I waited to make sure they were gone.

Silence.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

I scrambled to my feet and stretched.

Something rushed at me from behind.

“No!” I cried in terror.

Two arms wrapped around my waist. And a creature threw me to the ground.

I thrashed and kicked wildly.

“Stop it. Cut it out!” a familiar voice demanded.

“Nat!” I screamed. I whirled around. “Nat! You’re safe! How did you get out
of the cage?”

“Cage? What cage?” My brother squinted at me.

“The penalty cage,” I declared. “Nat—how did you escape? Did they let you
go?”

“I’m not Nat. It’s me. Pat.”

“Pat?” I stared at him in confusion. Then I threw my arms around his neck.
I’d never been so happy to see him.

“Where have you been?” I demanded.

“Where have
I
been?” Pat cried. “Where have
you
been? I’ve been
searching everywhere for you guys. These woods are creepy.”

He glanced around. “Where’s Nat, anyway?”

“Trapped.” I started to explain. “See, the beasts got him. After you ran into
the woods, we had to play this game and…”

“A game?” Pat cried. He shook his head in disbelief. “I was lost in the woods—and you two are playing a game?”

“It’s not what you think,” I said.

I checked the trees around us for any sign of the creatures.

“They forced us to play,” I told Pat, lowering my voice to a whisper. “It’s
like tag—only they play for keeps. I was the Beast from the East and—”

“Right.” Pat rolled his eyes.

“Really,” I insisted. “This game is deadly. You have to believe me.”

“Why?” Pat shrugged. “You never believe me. Why should I believe you?”

“Because if we lose, they’ll
eat
us!” I told him.

Pat burst out laughing.

“I’m serious!” I grabbed Pat’s shoulders and shook him hard. “I’m telling the
truth! It’s dangerous here. Fleg and Spork are after me, right now.”

Pat twisted out of my grasp. “Right. Fleg and Spork. Woof woof!” Pat barked.

“Shhh,” I hissed. “Keep quiet!” I pulled him behind an umbrella plant. “Pat,
you have to believe me. They’re all around us. They could get us if we’re not
careful.”

“And I suppose this game was their idea?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“And I suppose they can talk,” Pat went on. “In English.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I insisted.

“You’re weirder than I thought,” Pat said, shaking his head. “So where’s Nat?
For real?”

“
Grrravgh
!”

A deep growl echoed off the nearby rocks. “This way!” A beast bellowed. “Near
the tunnel!”

Heavy footsteps pounded closer. The ground shook under our feet.

Pat’s eyes widened in shock. He reached for my arm.

“It’s them!” I exclaimed. “
Now
do you believe me?”

Pat swallowed hard and nodded his head. “Yes. I believe you,” he choked out.

“She’s over here!” a beast shouted.

“He heard us,” I whispered in Pat’s ear. “Run!”

Pat and I took off.

We raced through the woods, leaping over fallen logs, pushing sharp branches
out of our faces.

“This way!” I called. I grabbed Pat’s hand. “Stay low.”

We ducked into a thick clump of trees.

Spork thudded past us.

I could hear him sniffing the air.

“Can he smell us?” Pat asked in a whisper.

“Sshh!” I pressed my finger to my lips.

We crept between the bushy plants.

Fleg appeared, stomping in our direction.

I dropped to my hands and knees. I pulled Pat down beside me.

Fleg thudded past us.

I knew we weren’t safe. More beasts would follow. And one of them might find
us.

I motioned for Pat to follow me.

We scrambled deeper into the woods.

The trees were close together here. The bushes were so thick I couldn’t see
between them. I flung out an arm, feeling my way.

My hand brushed against something.

Something big.

And warm.

And furry.

I leaped back. Crashed into Pat.

What had I touched?

The bushes parted and a strange creature bounced out.

I had never seen anything like it.

It had the body of a dog, as big as a German shepherd, and the face of a
squirrel.

I don’t believe this! I thought.

It could talk, too. “In here! Quick!” the creature urged in a scratchy,
squeaky voice.

Its squirrel-nose twitched. Its bushy dog tail thrashed from side to side.

Could we trust it?

“In here!” it squeaked.

It waved a paw in the air. Pointed to a bush of big orange leaves.

Pat held back, but I crept forward. I spotted the entrance to a cave hidden
behind the leaves.

“It’s a good hiding place,” I told Pat.

“It’s the Hiding Cave,” the squirrel-dog announced. “The Hiding Cave is the place to hide. Quick!” The animal held the
leaves aside for us.

The ground shook. I turned and saw furry blue beasts in the distance. They
were moving quickly toward us.

“Better do it, Pat,” I said.

Pat hesitated.

I yanked his hand and pulled him after me. I bent down to enter the Hiding
Cave.

I suddenly remembered what happened when Nat touched the penalty rock. The
thought made me shiver. Would we really be safe in the Hiding Cave?

Thump. Thump.

The beasts drew closer.

Pat hesitated and held back.

“Where are they?” a beast shouted. I recognized Fleg’s voice.

“They must be nearby,” Spork answered.

The squirrel-dog stayed outside. It let go of the orange leaves. They sprang
back into place, hiding the entrance to the cave.

Pat and I crouched inside, hidden from view.

We huddled close together. The air felt damp inside. It had a sour smell that
I tried to ignore.

I slumped against the wall of the cave and wiped the sweat off my forehead. I
tucked my feet under me. “Try to get comfortable,” I whispered to Pat. “We might
be here for a long time.”

Something tickled my neck. I reached to scratch it.

Something tickled my ear.

I shivered.

I brushed my hand against my ear and felt something crawl onto my cheek.

“Ow!” I cried out as I felt a sharp bite on my shoulder.

I turned to Pat. He was slapping at his ears and neck.

Something buzzed past my ear.

Something skittered through my hair. I shook my head hard.

My whole body itched and tingled. Every inch of me!

Beside me, Pat squirmed, and wriggled, scratched and slapped at himself.

I leaped to my feet. “Help!” I cried. “What is happening? What is going on in
here?”

“Help!” I cried, scratching desperately. “Help us!”

The squirrel-dog’s face poked into the entrance.

“What is happening to us?” I cried, squirming and scratching.

“I forgot to tell you,” the strange creature whispered. “The Hiding Cave is
also a hiding place for bugs!”

Bugs!

“Ohhh!” Pat let out a low moan. He rubbed his back against the cave wall.
Scratched his hair.

The bugs were everywhere. Crawling on the walls. Flying through the air.
Buzzing. Whistling. Clicking.

They crawled up and down my legs and arms. Over my face. In my hair.

I picked some kind of worm off my cheek. I dragged my hand down my arms and
my bare legs, brushing bugs onto the cave floor.

Pat squirmed next to me. “Get them off me, Ginger,” he wailed. “Helllp!”

“Sshhh!” The squirrel-dog stuck his nose back into the cave. “Quiet! Here
comes the Beast from the East. Don’t make a sound or he’ll find you!”

Pat and I drew closer together.

I held my breath and tried not to move.

I counted to ten. Silently. I pretended there were no bugs on me.

I shut my eyes and pictured my bedroom. The posters on the wall. My
comfortable canopy bed. I thought of being under the covers. Going to sleep.

And then I thought about bedbugs!

I couldn’t ignore the insects crawling over me. It was impossible not to
think about them.

I couldn’t stand it. I needed to scratch. I needed to
scream
!

I couldn’t sit there another second.

I heard a beast stomp close to the cave opening.

I recognized Spork’s voice. “Hey—!” he snarled at the squirrel-dog. “Have
you seen strangers here?”

Did Spork know this creature?

Were they friends?

“Answer me,” Spork demanded.

I waited for the squirrel-dog’s answer. Please don’t tell them we’re hiding
in here, I prayed. Please.

A fat, wet bug landed on my face. I picked at it with my fingers. It clung to my cheek. I pulled harder. I couldn’t tug it
loose.

I felt a scream building up inside me.

I couldn’t take it another second.

My mouth opened.

I had to scream. I had to!

“Ah—”

I clamped my hand over my mouth.

I let out a tiny squeak.

The orange leaves rustled. Fleg’s paw pushed into the cave entrance.

I froze. I heard Pat gasp.

“What’s in there?” I heard Fleg ask the squirrel-dog.

“Bugs,” the squirrel-dog replied. “Thousands of them.”

Millions!
I thought bitterly. The bugs crawled over my face, my arms, my
legs. They buzzed in my ears.

Fleg pushed his nose into the cave.

I stopped breathing.

Fleg sniffed. “What’s that awful smell?” he complained.

“Insects,” I heard the squirrel-dog answer.

“They stink!” Fleg muttered. He let go of the leaves and they snapped back
into place. “Only bugs in there,” Fleg reported to Spork. “No humans.”