The Conch Shell of Doom (37 page)

Bailey’s mouth dropped. He was more surprised than happy, catching the whistle as it fell out.
 

“Mr. Carrington?”

Chuck Carrington stood victorious over Percy, a golf club resting on Chuck’s shoulder. The rest of the set was slung over his back in a golf bag. “Interesting weekend you kids have had.”

“Damn, man.” Percy squirmed under Chuck’s foot. “Not cool.”

“Sorry we’re late,” Mr. Carrington said. “It’s Deb’s fault.”

Debbie held two small garden hoes. “I wasn’t about to go outside without any makeup on.”

“Mom,” Alexis said. “Don’t you think you could’ve made an exception this time?”

“I did, sweetie. I only put a light base on.”

Tim high-fived his dad and then gave him a hug. Julie stared past Bailey at Trenton’s followers. A wall of black hoods blocked Franklin from view.
 

“Mr. Lo—” Percy said, before Chuck interrupted Percy by stomping his face in the sand.

“Whatever we’re going to do, we better go on and do it,” Julie said.
 

“Yes, ma'am.” Bailey wrapped his lips around the whistle and blew, letting out a high-pitched sound that disoriented everyone on the beach, including Franklin and Mr. Lovell. Bailey slapped the sides of his head with his hands, worried his ear drums would burst from the pounding they just took. The whistle left everyone momentarily disoriented, but the effects wore off after a minute.
 

Wait. That’s it?

Bailey held the whistle, wondering why nothing else happened. He shook his head in disgust. What a worthless piece of crap. “Such a tease.”

“Indeed,” Mr. Lovell whispered into Bailey’s ear.
 

“What?” Bailey’s ears still hurt too much to hear something so soft.

“I said indeed.” Mr. Lovell shouted the words, catching the attention of the others. He waved to his followers, who’d formed a circle around Franklin. “Finish him.”

“You heard the man,” Bailey heard Franklin yell. “Twenty of you? One of me? I like those odds.”

“Wait.” It was Deckland, back on his feet. “I’ve got him.”

Trenton’s followers spread out, creating an open lane for the Irishman, who stomped his way to Franklin. He seemed none-too-pleased to be facing Deckland again.
 

The rain kept coming down at a steady pace, but the storm clouds eased up, letting a little sunlight in. Mr. Lovell shoved Bailey’s face in the sand, the grains jabbing at his eyes.
 

“Oh, how I’d love to kill you,” Mr. Lovell snarled.
 

“Not on my watch.” Marshall charged at the pair from the side, shoving Mr. Lovell off Bailey. Alexis rushed over to him, helping him up.

“Thanks.” He tried to wipe the sand out of his eyes, but it felt like a swarm of bees stabbed them whenever they opened.

“Don’t mention it.”

Chuck, Debbie, Marshall, and Julie joined the two of them, forming a small defensive circle. Bailey had no idea what happened to Tim, but he couldn’t worry about it as Trenton’s followers closed in.
 

“Oh, come on,” Bailey said, his eyes slowly feeling better. “This is completely unfair.”

Tim had somehow joined the circle, standing between Bailey and Alexis. “Um, guys. A little help here?”

“Where did you come from?” Alexis asked.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” Tim said.

“Give it up,” Bailey’s father said. “You’re not getting out of here unless Mr. Lovell wants you to.”

“And I don’t want you to.” Mr. Lovell moved in front of Earl and faced down Bailey. “Not yet, at least.”

Bailey saw Franklin in the spaces between the cloaked figures. He dangled one hand off to the side, trying to catch Deckland’s attention, so he could stab the ginger with the Blade of Hugues de Payens. Deckland laughed at the immortal for trying such a cheap shot, and then the two moved into a slow dance around each other, like a couple of boxers, except one of them had a knife. Bailey took note of the Irishman’s stance. Bailey had no clue how to fight, but standing around waiting to be sacrificed wasn’t an option.
 

“You all have made things interesting, I’ll give you that. But on this day, Trenton will return.” Mr. Lovell coughed violently. It got so bad he fell to his knees, the black hat falling off to give everyone a good look at his head. He coughed up black bile and then spit it on the sand. The followers on each side knelt down to help him back to his feet, but he was too weak.
 

Tim gawked at the bile. “I’m going to throw up again.”
 

“Boss?” Percy rushed over.

“I need to disrobe.”
 

Mr. Lovell held still. Percy pulled his jacket off from behind. He set it on the sand and then helped his boss pull his black shirt over his head. Trenton’s followers were horrified at the sight of Mr. Lovell’s deformed body. He collapsed, his coughs taking on a guttural sound. Bailey wanted to run but forced himself to stand by his friends. If Mr. Lovell wasn’t careful, he’d hack up a lung. Not that Baily cared. It might even be a good thing. He wondered if Trenton was the culprit, killing Mr. Lovell from the inside.

Mr. Lovell’s hand shot out. “I need the ceremonial knife.”
 

One of the followers, Mooresville’s Deputy Mayor, a forty-something woman named Myrtle Buxton, pulled a very long and wavy knife out of her robe and handed it over. Mr. Lovell rubbed his stomach.

“After all these years, we finally have a body for you.”
 

You have been the best companion I’ve ever had. I look forward to ruling this world with you at my side.

“I look forward to serving at your side.” Mr. Lovell stabbed himself in the gut, slicing the blade across his belly. The crowd gasped but did nothing to help. Black goo poured from the wound, which didn’t hurt. Too many scars, too many years had made Mr. Lovell numb to almost everything.

Bailey wanted to throw up, run away, anything besides stand there like everyone else, gawking at the morbid scene.

Mr. Lovell dropped to one knee, letting the knife fall to the sand. “Grab the boy.”

Bailey fought through the anxiety, willing himself to take a few steps back. His friends formed a barrier between him and Percy. An
oomph
from Franklin caught them off guard, alerting them to the fact that Deckland knocked the immortal out. The barrier broke into an L-shape to keep the ginger at bay.

“Come any closer, and I’ll slice your nuts off.” Marshall held up his glove blades.

“Dang.” Percy made a peace symbol. “It’s cool, we’re good. Do your thing.”

“Don’t let those little toothpicks scare you,” Deckland said, rubbing sand out of his hair.

Staring at Franklin’s motionless body on the beach, Bailey failed to notice his parents sneak around behind everyone, until they grabbed him and drug him closer to Mr. Lovell.

“Oh, come on.” Bailey tried to kick free, but it was no use. “This is ridiculous.”

Bailey stopped struggling. Something else commanded his attention, like an iron hand squeezing his soul. He gaped at Mr. Lovell, whose hands were inside his stomach, digging around until he took hold of Trenton’s head.
 

Remember. We’ll only have precious moments once I’m out in the open. Make haste!

Mr. Lovell pulled Trenton’s rotted head out of his stomach, black entrails spilling out along with it. Bailey gawked at the head and then took off down the beach. The rest of his group did the same, while Trenton’s followers did nothing.

“Get the boy,” Mr. Lovell demanded.
 

Trenton’s followers took up pursuit. It didn’t take them long to catch Bailey and the others, but it was already too late. Trenton needed a body before the storm cleared, and it had almost completely broken up. Mr. Lovell knew there was only one thing he could do to save Trenton Maroney.
 

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to serve at your side,” Mr. Lovell said, stroking Trenton’s decomposed cheek. “My only hope is that you become powerful enough to revive me. If not, I look forward to our reunion in the next life.”

With the mini-rebellion taken care of, Trenton’s followers escorted Bailey and the others back to Mr. Lovell in time to see him holding Trenton’s head high in the air. Tentacles came out from the bottom, moving down and penetrating Mr. Lovell’s neck. He winced, surprised at the stinging pain moving through his body. With the tentacles firmly entrenched, he pulled the severed head down over Mr. Lovell’s, replacing it.

“And now
I’m
going to be sick.” Alexis stepped away to throw up.
 

With everyone, including Trenton’s followers, still honed in on Mr. Lovell, nobody bothered Alexis while she was sick. Bailey wanted to help her, but his parents pulled him back as he tried to move.

Mr. Lovell’s body shook as the head adjusted to its new body. Everyone made sure to keep plenty of space between themselves and Mr. Lovell. Trenton’s head returned to life, the rot melting away and live, healthy flesh taking its place. The shaking slowly came to a halt, and the head finished returning to a non-rotted out state, completing the transformation. Trenton’s severed head had control of Mr. Lovell’s body. He raised what were now his hands and then let forth a shout so loud it could be heard from miles away. The darkness overhead quickly returned, as did the rain and the lightning. Trenton’s followers looked to each other, unsure what to do next.

“The master has arrived!” Wanda squealed.

And we are royally screwed
, Bailey thought.

After the initial shock of seeing a head being removed from Mr. Lovell’s stomach wore off, Bailey found the idea of Trenton far more terrifying than the reality. Most of that was because Bailey built the monster up in his mind as a towering, fire-breathing figure with scales that caused instant death by flicking someone. Trenton in the flesh still looked imposing, but his clean-shaven face looked a lot like his brother’s, only softer. Plus, a normal head on Mr. Lovell’s burned body just didn’t carry the same weight as Bailey’s imagination.
 

Trenton’s followers bowed before him, their knees plunging into the sand, all except for Bailey’s parents, who still clung to their son.

“He is risen,” Earl whispered into his son’s ear.

“Thanks for the update.” If Bailey got out alive, he was going back to the House of the Rising Sun and, whatever it took, finding a way to curse each and every person who wanted him dead, especially Ma and Pa Southwick.

Trenton picked up Mr. Lovell’s black hat, crushing it in his gnarled hands. He lifted it to his face and cried. “My friend.”
 

Bailey was confused. Monsters like Trenton didn’t cry. They got angry. Destroyed stuff. They didn’t show weakness. Ever. Unless they were dying and had no choice.

“This is tearing me up inside,” Marshall quipped. “Maybe he’ll die of sadness.”

“Our luck isn’t that good,” Alexis said.

“Especially mine.” Bailey tried again to get free of his parents, but their grasp on him only tightened.

Trenton let a gust of wind carry Mr. Lovell’s hat away and then watched it tumble down the beach. Trenton extended his hand to Percy. “We’ve never formally met.”

“No, we haven’t.” Percy shook his new boss’s hand with gusto.

“Bring me the Conch Shell of Doom.”

“You got it.” Percy looked around the overturned table, even picking it up to look underneath. “I left it right here, man. I swear.”

“It’s gone?” Trenton rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I’d hoped we would get off to a better start than this.”

“Maybe you should call it a day.” Franklin clutched the shell in his hand. “Or better yet, go bury your head in the sand for another millennium.”

Franklin stood behind Trenton, Julie at his side, her shotgun aimed at him. Bailey was impressed. Franklin somehow getting the shell was some ninja-level sneakiness. Tim even said so.

“Wicked.”
 

Julie fired the shotgun. The blast tore through Trenton’s back. A mixture of black flesh, bone, and pellets exploded from his stomach. Some of the followers fell down screaming, injured by flying pellets and bone.

“Nasty.” Percy wiped pieces of Trenton out of his eyes and then flicked it off his fingers. “So freakin’ nasty.”

“Tickles.” Trenton’s stomach wound healed in seconds. He turned to his brother and smiled. “It’s good to see you with my own eyes. It’s been too long.”

“Not long enough. I rather enjoyed imagining your zombie head rotting away in that burned out gut of Mr. Lovell’s.”

Trenton’s smile dissolved into sharp anger. “Don’t call me a zombie. You know I’m so much more than that. Now, give me the shell.”

“This shell?” Franklin tossed the shell between his hands. “But I like it. I think I’ll keep it.”

Franklin tossed the shell higher and higher, not noticing Portman had flanked him. He cracked Franklin across the jaw with his nightstick, the momentum causing the shell to fall out of his hands. Julie cocked her shotgun, ejecting the empty cartridge and loading a new one as Deckland made for the shell.
 

“Stay back,” she said, standing over the shell. “I’ll shoot you. I swear.”

“Please.” Deckland shoved her to the ground before she could fire. He picked up the shell, cleaned the sand off, and then handed it to Trenton, who gazed upon it with admiration.
 

He began speaking in that language Bailey still didn’t understand. Trenton’s followers made weird bubble sounds with their mouths and waved their hands inches above the sand. Bailey turned to his father and made a fish face to mock him. Earl didn’t notice, forcing Bailey to give up, disappointed.

“Let my army rise!” Trenton held the Conch Shell of Doom to his lips and blew.
 

Bass boomed from the shell complete with a visible sound wave. Everyone covered their ears for a second, and then the pain stopped all at once. The rain stopped falling. Each drop hung in place, frozen in time. All sound died out. Even the ocean didn’t move. No waves, only a dead stillness. Tim karate-chopped a few raindrops. Bailey looked to Alexis, hoping for an explanation. She shrugged. Bailey decided not to worry about it. There were bigger things to worry about, like keeping his head and stopping Trenton.