The Conch Shell of Doom (42 page)

“Follow you?” Franklin liked the refreshing feeling of the cool rain on his skin. “I’ll pass. If I’m going to Hell, I’m going on my terms. Not yours.”

“You still don’t understand.” Trenton snapped the whip, which wrapped around his brother’s wrist. “Your entire existence has been on my terms. The second you let that drunk shaman give you immortality, everything that followed was dictated by me.”

The eel sent wave after wave of electricity through Franklin, who was stung by the realization his brother was absolutely right. Two thousand years of existence, in service of destroying Trenton. Even in the slow times, Franklin had to make himself stay on his toes. It may have been the most depressing thing he’d ever thought of.
 

Wait.

It was time to ditch the pity party. Franklin wasn’t dead yet, and there was still a chance to live on his own terms. He squeezed the blade as hard as he could, fighting through the painful shock and refusing to drop his weapon. It took all of his strength to shift the knife into his left hand. With the current’s entry point on the opposite arm, Franklin slashed at the eel whip, slicing it in two. The electricity running through him disappeared.

The hilt of the swordfish connected with Franklin’s nose, shattering the cartilage with a crack. The pain consumed every inch of him. It felt even worse than getting shocked. Blood spilled from the crushed nose and down over his lips. Everything was blurry. He tripped on one of his brother’s followers and fell. Backing away, he hoped to buy enough time to let his brain clear up a little. Franklin’s hand landed on a foot. Standing before him was Trenton, swordfish at the ready.
So much for that plan.
 

“Where are you going?” Trenton coughed, the black consuming almost all of the flesh Franklin could see. “We’ve both waited two thousand years for this moment, and you’re running away?”

“I think crawling is more like it.” Franklin lay on top of the Blade of Hugues de Payens. For the moment, his brother had the drop on him. All Franklin could do was take a deep breath and set his nose, the cartilage painfully crunching back into place. “Can’t say I’ve ever had to do that before.”
 

“You know, despite what you may think, you’re still my brother. And I do love you.” Trenton drove the swordfish through the small of Franklin’s back, piercing his spine and coming out the other end, digging into the sand and trapping him in place.
 

Franklin tried to move, but the sword acted as a post. Worse, the strike paralyzed him from the waist down, and his legs wouldn’t heal until that thing came out of his back.
 

Trenton knelt in front of his brother, a solemn look on his face. “I didn’t want it to be this way. I never did. What would our parents think if they saw us now?”

Franklin held on tight to the Blade of Hugues de Payens. “They’d probably think you’d need to sit in time out for a while, think about what you’ve done.”

“Always with the humor.” Trenton shoved his brother’s face into the sand, suffocating him. “You never showed me respect. Never! Even when I became superior to you in every possible way, I was nothing more than a nuisance to you.”

Franklin gasped for breath as Trenton eased up. Franklin hid a smile. Things couldn’t be going better for him. He knew there was no way to defeat his brother on strength alone. Trenton was too powerful for that. No, Franklin would have to beat his brother in a game of wits. Trenton was already angry, but with a little more prodding, he might also get careless. Careless people made mistakes.

“You never did listen to our father,” Franklin said. “One of the biggest lessons he taught us was to get respect you have to earn respect.”

“You don’t think I’ve earned it? All this?” Trenton motioned to everything happening around them. “I’ve more than earned it. I command it.”

Franklin laughed, using the opportunity to roll on his side. He kept hold of the blade, hiding it under his shoulder. “You didn’t make this. It was that damn shell.”

Even with his face turning black, Franklin could tell his brother was flush with rage. The scream he belted out didn’t exactly conceal the truth.

“The shell answers to me!” The shouting made Trenton cough. “I found the shell. I—”

Franklin slid the Blade of Hugues de Payens into Trenton’s neck the second his coughing forced him to break eye contact with his brother. Black goo spilled out under the knife.
 

“You shouldn’t have used the dolphins.” Franklin yanked the blade out.

Trenton struggled to speak. His body turned black as coal and then began flaking away into ash. “They were a new addition. I remembered they were your favorite.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Anything to—”

Franklin didn’t wait for him to finish. He thrust the blade forward, ramming it into Trenton’s chest.
 

“For the record, I love you.” Franklin felt the slightest bit of remorse watching his brother suffer. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday. In Hell.”
 

A loud, bellowing, supernatural moan rumbled in Trenton’s belly. The sound spewed out of his mouth, so deep and full of bass it made Franklin’s bones vibrate. The fighting all around them stopped, probably because everyone was experiencing the same painful sensation.

Trenton coughed out little black chunks of innards. The hacking became increasingly violent. His head began bubbling. One final, horrible cough made his head explode. Franklin raised an arm, shielding his face from the flying bits of Trenton’s noggin.

Bailey didn’t know how to react to Trenton’s head exploding. Laugh? Cry? Strip down to his underwear and do somersaults? With so many options, he went with just standing there, dumbfounded, as the headless body fell to the ground, crumbling into a cloud of black ash. The Conch Shell of Doom lay on the sand next to the body’s outline.

Sunlight broke through the disappearing clouds. The rain came to a halt. Tim picked the shell up, inspecting every bit of it. Trenton’s army, including his followers, gawked at the lifeless body, all of them looking like they’d witnessed something unfathomable.

“Kneel before Zod!” Tim held up the shell. The army kneeled. “Sweet.”

Some confused followers also dropped to one knee. Those still standing smacked them upside their heads, chastising them for being stupid.

“Let me try.” Marshall took the shell from Tim. “Break it down.”

Marshall did a break dance, and the army mimicked his every move. Bailey and the others couldn’t stop laughing. The irony of these things going from killing machines to break dancers wasn’t lost on Bailey.

“You want a go?” Marshall offered it to Bailey.

The surface felt smooth to Bailey. So smooth, he worried it might slip out of his hands. He thought about making the army do something ridiculous, like turn into a giant sand castle, but he didn’t feel up to it. Franklin lay on the sand with Julie standing over him, shotgun in hand. Chuck, shirt cut in a few places, and Debbie, makeup streaked down her face, ran to their kids, hugging them tight.

Bailey waved at Franklin. “How do we send the army back?”

The immortal glanced up and to the left, counting with his fingers. “Three toots on the horn should do it. I think.”

“You think?” Bailey wished Franklin had been more confident about his answer. Bailey didn’t want to accidentally blow up everyone.

“Yeah. That, or you’ll summon the rest of the army. Help?” Franklin held up his hand. Julie took it, and pulled him to where he sat up. “Either way, I’m too tired to care. Just blow on the thing. We should be fine.”

“All right, but if some giant whale eats all of us, it’s not my fault.” Bailey held the shell up to his mouth.

Marshall cleared his throat. “Can I try something first?”

He took the shell and held it up to his rear end. His body strained, face contorted with effort. Bailey bit the inside of his mouth.
Why am I not surprised?

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to fart in the shell,” Franklin said.

Marshall nodded, his face turning a deep shade of red from the pushing. “Naturally.”

Franklin groaned, falling back on the sand. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Don’t give yourself hemorrhoids,” Alexis said.

“Or do,” Tim said. “Whichever.”

Marshall flipped his friend off and then exhaled and relaxed. Marshall tossed the shell back to Bailey. “There’s never a good fart around when you need one.”

Bailey wiped off that part of the shell with his shirt. He wasn’t about to risk getting some rare strain of hepatitis from his friend. His lips brushed up against the shell. Bailey blew into it three times. A deep, booming hum erupted from the Conch Shell of Doom.

Nothing happened. The army didn’t move. Bailey looked at the others, hoping for an answer. Nobody had one.
 

Franklin shrugged. “At least you didn’t summon a white whale to come eat us.”

A gust of wind picked up, blowing out toward the ocean. The breeze urged the army into action, like it gently guided them to the water. Sand soldiers dissolved upon touching the ocean. The surviving shark and dolphin soldiers trudged back into the surf and disappeared beneath the waves.

Bailey jumped. Someone behind him grabbed his shoulder. Bailey swung the shell around, socking the person in the face.

“Ouch.” Earl put pressure on his bloody nose.
 

Bailey noticed his father’s black eyes were back to their normal blue. Same with his mom. Trenton’s death must have broken whatever spell they were under. It was a relief to know Earl and Wanda were back to their old selves, but he still kept them at a distance. Neither of them were hypnotized when Bailey’s memory was wiped. Chuck went to Earl, checking on his nose.

“That looks awful,” Chuck said. “Does it hurt?”

Earl nodded. “A lot.”

“This should help with that.” Chuck punched Earl in the stomach. Bailey’s dad curled into a ball, clutching his nose and belly.

“Chuck!” Debbie did not look pleased. “You’re better than that.”

“No, no.” Earl groaned, leaning his head back to stem the flow of blood from his nose. “I deserve a lot worse. Wanda and I both do.”
 

“I’m sorry,” Chuck said and then turned to Bailey. “You want me to call child services on them? Come live with us?”

Bailey’s heart raced. Live with them? Under the same roof as Tim and Alexis? That sounded amazing to Bailey. Considering his feelings for Alexis, it was also awkward. Too awkward.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll give these two one last chance,” Bailey said.

Wanda stood by her husband’s side. Each of them looked weary and tired, like the entire ordeal with Trenton took more than a physical toll on them. Bailey felt exactly like his parents looked but for different reasons. A lot had happened in the last few days, and it would take a long time to process all of it, if at all.

“We don’t have any excuse for our actions.” His mother wrapped her arm around Earl’s. “With everything over, things feel different. We thought we were doing the right thing at first and then it all just got so complicated. We’re so sorry, Bailey.”

Bailey didn’t answer. He was too tired and accepting their apology felt awkward. Things might get back to normal one day, but he didn’t know when that day would come.
 

Up the beach, Marshall ran around, cutting sand soldiers down to size with his blades like a madman. Tim did the same, performing running tumbles and slicing the troops down at the knees. Alexis stood over by the tide, staring out into the ocean.

Franklin tried to stand on his own. Three attempts and lots of groans later, he let Julie get him to his feet.
 

“Is this what being mortal feels like?” Franklin asked.

“What do you mean?” Julie asked. “Has it been so long you’ve forgotten?”

“My brother is dead. This time for good. My curse is gone.” Franklin took Julie’s hand. She helped him to his feet. “Every bone in my body aches, and it’s not getting any better. I guess after two thousand years, the body can only take so much.”

“Don’t worry, Grandpa,” Julie said with a smirk. “I’ll take good care of you.”

“Even if I have to start wearing diapers?”

Julie smacked his shoulder.

Franklin grunted, rubbing the area Julie hit. “That hurt a lot more than it should’ve.”

“What do we do with this?” Bailey patted the Conch Shell of Doom. “Can we destroy it?”

“You can’t destroy it,” Franklin said. “But you can damn sure hide it.”

Bailey glanced down at the shell. “Where? Won’t someone eventually find it, like your brother did?”

“It’s possible, but I’ve had a little while to think of a good hiding spot. Maybe an active volcano in Hawaii.” Franklin wrapped his arm around Julie. “I think that would work.”

“I’ve heard of worse places.” Julie rested her head on Franklin’s shoulder.

Bailey felt a stirring inside him. He watched Alexis down by the ocean. She held her shoes in one hand, moving her toes as the tide washed up on her feet. He wanted to go to her. Needed to go to her. Despite the invisible wall inside his body trying to hold him back, he walked over to Alexis.

“So? What did you do on your summer vacation? Anything fun?”

Alexis smiled, a far-off look in her eyes. “The usual. A little of this, a little of that. Nothing special.”

“You okay?” Bailey asked.

“I don’t know.” Alexis shrugged. “I feel kind of like I did when I was sick.”

“How so?”

“When I found out I was healthy, I was kind of lost.” A strand of hair flapped in the wind. She tucked it behind her ear. “I’d spent so much time coming to terms with the fact that the Leukemia was probably going to kill me, so when they told me I would live, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I kind of feel the same way now. Sorry, I know it’s depressing.”

“It’s okay.” Bailey understood how she felt. He wasn’t feeling joyous either and had zero clue what would happen next, though one thing was for sure. “I’m definitely putting all this on my college application.”