The Last Stand of Daronwy (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Jeremy stood at the door to Mira's house. Her dad's pipe tobacco wafted out over him. “Hey, Mira,” he called through the screen.

“Hey, Jeremy.” She stepped out and half-closed the door behind her. Mira's eyes glittered, reflecting her smile. “You wanna go find the Old Man?”

“Yeah!”

She spun on her toe with ballerina grace and stuck her head back inside. “Mom, I'm going in the woods with Jeremy!” She slammed the door before any response came. “Let's get our bikes.”

They pedaled into Twin Hills. She rode behind him on a fluorescent pink and green bike with plastic tassels on the handlebars. Jeremy stopped at the rotting couch just outside of the bike trails. “You know, I was wondering if maybe this couch was his. Maybe we'll find some clues around here.”

Mira picked her way after Jeremy into the thicket and they peered at the ancient couch. Its stuffing billowed out like foamy innards. Whatever color it had once been had faded into a drab gray, dotted with black mold. Its mildewy stench kept them at a distance. Scattered about the couch were other things: cans, bottles, foil, plastic bowls. None of the items looked recently used.

Holding their noses, Mira and Jeremy left the couch and pedaled past the pond to the Trash Clearing. Jeremy showed her a discarded refrigerator that had turned up since the last time they'd investigated the area. He also pointed out the remnants of a dryer.

“I already told you, none of this is a clue. We have to find clues somewhere else.” She crossed her arms.

“What if he took the metal from these things and made it into a house?”

She looked at him out of the top of her eyes. “Where were you when that pinecone hit you? Let's go there.”

Jeremy snapped his fingers. “Club Tree!”

“What?”

“Follow me!” Jeremy was back on his bike, powering through the wheel-sucking sand in the Mini Desert. Mira needed no introduction to the Club Tree. She slid off her bike and ran to the rough-hewn ladder and moss-covered, sagging plywood platforms that spiraled skyward through the tree's branches. “Come on, Jeremy!” She swung up on the first rungs.

Her feet were on the first platform by the time Jeremy started up. “Mira, wait! Some of those platforms are rotten. Be careful.” She started climbing higher. “Wait!” He climbed after her, ensuring he balanced his weight on each rung of the ladder. She kept climbing, up and up, to the highest plywood ledge. Jeremy focused on where his hands and feet had to go. He did not look down.

“This is amazing! Hurry, Jeremy, hurry!”

One foot, then the other, Jeremy shifted his weight onto the platform, careful to stand over the line of nails that showed where the supporting branch was below. Mira stood in the center of the sagging plywood, hands on her hips, and stared into the green, arboreal ocean with the wild-eyed glee of a pirate captain espying a treasure-laden galleon. Jeremy stayed next to the trunk of the tree. Hopefully there weren't any more rungs. With one eye, then the other, he looked up. The next branch towered fifteen feet above him and his knees went soft as he looked up at it. He squeezed the tree trunk, trying to catch his breath. Mira was talking. “What?” Jeremy asked.

She spun on her toe. “This is beautiful! This is certainly where he lives.”

“You… you think so?”

“Of course, who wouldn't want to live up here, silly?” She punched his arm softly. His knees wobbled, but he tried to keep her from noticing.

“Why are you way back here? You can't see anything. Come on.”

She took his hand and dragged him to the center of the platform. Jeremy held his breath and tried to keep his feet over the line of nails.

“Ow, you're hurting my hand.”

“Sorry.” Jeremy relaxed his grip. Below, he could see the pond and the tar pit through the gaps in branches. Everywhere else, the dense canopy of Helter Skelter stared back in a confusing riot of evergreen. Jeremy shuddered.

“You okay?”

“Just a chill.” The far western sky caught his eye. Beyond the canopy of trees, just to the right of the towering power plant smokestacks, the sun set in a rapture of purple and gold and orange and baby blue.

She followed his gaze. “Pretty sunset, huh?”

Jeremy nodded, then realized the darkness of night was approaching. “Do you think he still lives up here?”

Mira dropped his hand and crossed her arms. “I dunno… maybe. Kelly swears she saw him.”

Jeremy tried to keep his balance, but his knees made little circles and his hips felt like a wobbling stack of mismatched dinner plates. He wanted to go back to the trunk, where he could hold on, but he forced himself to stand still. If he didn't move, his knees wouldn't buckle, right? “What if he comes back?”

Her eyes rounded. Her voice dropped. “We'd better not be up here when he comes! Hurry!”

She crossed the platform in a quick stride that made the entire tree move. Jeremy crumbled to all fours, fingernails clutching the mossy plywood. The tree kept moving. It took a few moments for him to start breathing again. Mira swung down the rungs like a chimpanzee. “Come on, Jeremy!”

He willed himself to stand up.
Stand up and walk to the trunk
. His knees refused to straighten. He crawled to the trunk and lowered himself with painstaking care onto the top rung of the ladder. When he dropped into the piney duff two minutes later, she stood in the center of the clearing, among twilit shadows beneath the boughs. Her voice was louder than it needed to be. “Let's hide and see if he comes.”

Trees snarled and branches strained arthritic fingers toward him in the half-light. The moist, hungry breath of Twin Hills' spirits whispered words of warning across the back of his neck, evaporating the last of his confidence. This was the last thing on Earth he wanted to do, but at least they were on the ground. He followed her to the north side of the small clearing, where a bush concealed them and their bikes. From their hiding place, they could see the clearing and the trail, and they could hop on their bikes for a quick escape. They waited. The sky faded from dark blue to purple.

Shadows spread across the clearing, starting from under the trees and flowing out like black mud. No birds called, no squirrels chattered, no twigs snapped. The wind stilled. Pins prickled along Jeremy's legs from kneeling. Holding his breath, he shifted his position without making any sound. Why were there no noises? Why hadn't his dad called him home yet? Was this the moment he'd been waiting for? Were he and Mira going to be dropped through some portal to another time, like the children in
Narnia
or that ship in
Final Countdown
? Electricity crackled beneath his skin. Could it have already happened? No, he could still smell the acrid reek of the tar pit. But it would. There would be a sign; there was always a sign in the stories.

The sky grew darker. Nothing else happened. “Hey, Mira,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think a pollution club's a good idea?”

“What?”

“A pollution club, you know—”

She waved a hand. “Shhhhh.” She glanced up at the dark sky. “When do you think he'll come back? It's getting late.”

“I don't know. He may not come at all.”

She frowned, pushing her eyebrows together, but said nothing.

They waited. The sky faded to midnight blue, the even tone broken only near the south where the orange Texaco flares reflected off the clouds. Yet, the sneering trees and clawed-hand branches fought the light back, leaving them in near-perfect shadow. Jeremy wanted to suggest they go home but he couldn't think of how to say it and not sound terrified. Besides, what if the magic was just about to happen? He drew a design he couldn't see in the loose sand between his knees.

Something snatched his left wrist. He flinched. Mira's pleading fingers rattled his arm, demanding attention. It was too dark to see her eyes, so his gaze followed the direction of her nod. Jeremy's heart jackhammered against his ribs, catching the gasp in his throat.

A black shape stood against the grayness of the pond. Not one branch had cracked, not one pine needle had shifted. The form had just appeared. It was not exactly person-shaped, but it was too big to be any of the animals that lived in Twin Hills. Jeremy squeezed her fingers back; cold sweat trickled down his spine and he tried to keep his aching knees from clanging together.

“Is it him?” Mira's voice was only a whisper of accented air.

“I don't—” Did it just move? Had it heard?

Mira's fingers squeezed tighter. “Wh… What is it?”

“We should go.”

Mira leaned forward, squinting into the darkness.

“Mira!”

She tried to steady herself against his arm, but tipped them both forward into a pile of dead leaves. Breaking twigs and crumpling leaves shattered the silence like a gunshot. The thing whirled toward them. Now it looked person-shaped. And it was looking
right at them
. A second stretched into a breathless silence. Time suspended, slowing; his lungs held no air, his heart hung in mid-beat. It took one ponderous step, lumbering toward them. Then it took another.

Jeremy and Mira bolted to their bikes, crushing branches in a raucous escape. The thing's feet were close behind, splashing through water and slogging through mud. Mira vaulted onto her bike first, back wheel spitting up a ghostly plume of dust in the faint starlight. Jeremy careened onto his bike at a full run, pedaling to catch her. Its heavy feet thumped against the hard pack of the trail with the tempo of a predator's heart:
thok thunk
.
Thok thunk
. Rough, wet breaths tickled Jeremy's ears. He pedaled faster.

Mira's feet blurred as she zipped down the white-gray ribbon that set the trail apart from the gloom. Jeremy fought to keep up with her, not daring to take his eyes off the trail, even for a moment. His hands strangled the handlebars. His legs burned. Faster, faster. The thing crashed through underbrush behind him. The front wheel bounced and jerked as it hit unseen ruts and roots. The bike trails were in the deeper darkness just ahead; one more turn.
Thok thunk
.
Thok thunk
. One more turn.

He exploded into the wide bike trails. Slices of an amber streetlight cut through the shadows. Mira sailed ahead. Jeremy dared a glance backward. Underbrush along the trail whipped back and forth, caught in a malevolent gale. A shadow lunged out of the thicket on Jeremy's right.
It's next to me!
A knife sliced through his hand, wrenching the bike.
The back tire left the ground, pitching him forward. Jeremy pushed against the pedals, vaulting himself over the tangled handlebars. He hit the ground hard, tumbling several times, but rolled onto his feet in a full sprint as Mira vanished around the last corner of the trail.

Hands chopping air, heels pounding dirt, he raced for the streetlamp's safe orange glow.
Thok thunk
.
Thok thunk
. The predator drew closer.
Thok. Thunk. Thokthunk
. Faster!
Thokthunk
.

Jeremy's lungs burned, his ribs ached. The light reached out toward him. ­
Thokthunk
thokthunk
. Mira steered her bike into her garage.
Thokthunk
. Jeremy did not look back. His feet pounded against concrete. He ran up Mira's driveway and into the garage behind her.

Mira jumped at the thunder of Jeremy's footsteps, dropping her bike in a crash. Her hands fluttered to cover her mouth, stifling a scream. Jeremy doubled over, panting, then let himself melt onto the refreshingly cool, smooth concrete. He was covered in dirt, his right hand and left elbow were smeared with blood. Mira knelt by his side. “Oh… oh my God. Wh… what happened… where's your bike?”

It took him a moment before he could catch his breath enough to speak. “Are… we… safe?”

Mira's normally fearless brown eyes had never looked so frightened. Her eyes darted to the blackness lurking outside the open maw of the garage door, then back to him. She jumped up, stumbled over the fallen bike, and slammed her fist against the garage door button. The door lumbered down, shutting out the night. She came back to him, pushing him to a sitting position, taking his elbow in her hands. “We're safe now. What happened?”

“I don't know. You okay?”

She pushed a sweat-plastered, brown lock back over her ear. “Yeah, I'm okay.” She turned his elbow upside down. “What happened? Does it hurt?”

Jeremy stared at his hand. It stung. He could see thorns sticking out from the cut in a jagged line like thin needles. “No, not really. I guess my handlebars caught on a blackberry bush… at least that's what it feels like. And I fell off the bike.”

“Was he still after you?”

Thok-thunk
echoed in his mind, and Jeremy made a shell-shocked nod. His breath still wheezed through burning lungs, cold sweat still beaded on his forehead. Mira took his left hand in both of hers. They sat still, listening to their own ragged breathing and the moan of the wind outside.

“That was really close,” she said.

Blood dripped from his right hand onto the cement. It was starting to ache and sting. “I need to go home. I gotta get these thorns out.” He looked at the garage door. He would have to go out the garage, around her house, and up his driveway to get home. The thought of opening that garage door made his stomach backflip.

Mira followed his gaze. “Come this way.” She pulled him to his feet and into her house. It smelled of tobacco and baked chicken.

“Mira, where have you been? Supper is ready,” Mrs. Leblanc said, but her stern voice vanished when she saw Jeremy. She bent to him. “What happened?”

Mira waved her mother back. “Jeremy crashed his bike. I'm taking him out the front door so he can go to his house.”

Jeremy said nothing. Mira led him toward the front door where the black night waited like a coiled snake. From there, it would be a quick dash into his own garage. She stepped into the porch's tiny pool of yellow light. They stood close, hand in hand, straining their eyes against the darkness poised on the light's edge. They saw nothing, but that was no longer comforting. She squeezed his hand. He squeezed back. Ravenous shadows stared at them, waiting, eternally waiting.