The Masked Family (15 page)

What would The Hurry do in a situation like this?

That was what Cary asked himself as he stood in the darkness at the top of the stairs, listening to Paisley and Celeste screaming in the basement.

He wouldn't stand around doing nothing, that's for sure.

Cary had waited long enough already, hoping that the situation would resolve itself. If the lights were coming back on and Mom and Dad were coming to the rescue, it wouldn't be anytime soon.

So it was all up to him. His brother and sisters' lives were riding on what he did next, and he had to do it immediately.

The screams were getting worse all the time.

When you need your powers most, they will come to you.
That was what E.Q. had told him.

Cary couldn't imagine a time when he would need those powers more. He rubbed the Starbeam Ring on his right index finger and wished as hard as he could that his body would be infused with super-speed abilities and his mind with super-fast thinking.

Then, heart racing like the heart of The Hurry, he gazed into the darkness of the living room below.

He could see no movement in that sea of black. Between screams from the basement, he heard no telltale sounds of someone moving in the shadows.

The fact that Cary couldn't see or hear any movement, and the girls were still screaming like someone was tormenting them, made him think Grogan was still in the basement. It was probably safe to go downstairs.

And then what?

Cary took the deepest breath ever and started down the stairs, guiding himself with a sweaty hand skimming over the wall. As he waded into the pitch blackness lapping at the base of the stairs, he thought about what he was going to do next. It made him so nervous that his bowels twisted, and he wanted to go to the bathroom...but he had to keep moving.

He knew one thing for sure: he couldn't just wait for Grogan to come after him. He had to do what Grogan himself always did best and use the element of surprise.

He had to trick Blacksheep, and he had to do it fast.

At the bottom of the stairs, he felt his way around the corner into the kitchen. There was just a little more light out there, the glow from a neighbor's garage light trickling in through the sheer curtains over the windows.

Cary stood for a moment in the middle of the room and thought as hard as he could. A scene came to him from
Nuclear Family Comics
#115, "Starmageddon: Day One": to stop the Universoid from destroying Achilles Tactile and the Fairborn, The Hurry staged a distraction. He gathered up a thousand fire sirens from around the world and set them all off at once in the Universoid's secret lair, enabling Spellerina, Moon Girl, and Musclebot to free Achilles and the Fairborn.

Start with a distraction.

As quietly as he could, Cary pulled open the big cupboard beside the stove and lifted out pots and pans. He padded over and stacked them on the floor near the basement door.

While the bad guy's distracted, hit him with everything you've got.

Next, Cary opened the refrigerator and pulled out cartons of milk and juice and eggs. He put them in a second pile on the floor near the first, adding tomatoes, apples, ground beef, leftover spaghetti, and jars of pickles and mayonnaise.

Then, the screaming stopped, and so did Cary. He froze in the middle of the kitchen, listening for the creaking of Grogan's weight on the stairs coming up from the basement.

Cary's heart pounded like the fist of a man buried alive pounding on a coffin lid. For one dark moment, he thought of throwing open the back door and running for his life.

But he knew he couldn't leave, not when every second might mean the difference between life and death for his brother and sisters. The screams might have stopped because Paisley and Celeste had passed out...or they might have been dying.

Cary heard no creaking on the basement stairs, but he knew time was running out. That was when he reached for one last thing.

He opened a drawer under the kitchen counter and drew out the big, broad knife Lydia used to chop onions.

He felt a little guilty as he put it on the floor by his piles of ammunition. Mom and Dad had told him never to play with knives, and the Nuclear Family never used them in the comics. Cary knew how dangerous they were.

But he didn't plan to use the knife to hurt anybody. He just needed it to threaten Grogan. He needed Grogan to be as afraid of him as he was afraid of Grogan.

Just then, as Cary put down the knife, he heard noises from the basement. Someone was moving around down there.

Maybe Grogan was getting ready to come upstairs.

It's time it's time it's time.

Breathing fast, shaking, lightheaded, Cary reached for the basement door's knob.

He turned it slowly, trying not to make a sound.

And then he hurled the door wide open.

There was some kind of flickering light down there--a candle, maybe? It was just enough for Cary to see the stairs, and that no one was coming up them yet.

Do it do it do it!

Cary grabbed a stack of pots and pans...then hesitated. Once he threw them, there would be no turning back. No more chances to make a run for it.

He threw them.

The pots and pans clattered and banged the whole way down the stairs. They hopped off the wall at the bottom and bounded left into the basement.

Cary snagged another stack and pitched them after the first. Again, there was banging and bonging and clanging the whole way down, then a bounce against the wall at the bottom and a clattering crash.

Before Cary could throw down the last few, he heard another crash from below. This one didn't sound as much like a pot or pan crashing to a halt as it sounded like someone chucking a pot or pan hard against a wall or floor.

Grogan's voice crackled with rage from below. "You're
d-d-dead
, asshole!"

Cary waited till he saw Grogan turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs before he tossed the remaining pots and pans into the basement. Grogan batted aside two of them, but a big skillet clipped the side of his head, sending him stumbling backward.

"Ow!" said Grogan. "Fuckin'
asshole
!"

Keep going! Don't let up!

As Grogan started up the stairs, Cary pitched a carton of milk at him. The carton exploded on impact, dousing Grogan with white liquid.

Cary followed it up with eggs...one, two, three of them, all bang on target.

"
F-f-fucker!
" Grogan swiped the worst of the eggy mess from his eyes and started pounding up the stairs, arms in front of him to catch whatever else dropped from above.

That was when Cary rolled the big pickle jar down the stairs. Grogan tripped on it and fell forward, crashing hard on his knees and elbows.

As he struggled to get to his feet, Cary whipped a carton of orange juice at him. Grogan batted it away with the angry force of a grizzly batting away a bee hive.

"
D-dead!
" he said, scrambling up another two stairs. "That's
y-you!
"

Cary pelted him with four more eggs, two at a time. He splattered a tomato right in Grogan's face, then followed it with the ground beef and leftover spaghetti...but Grogan kept coming. The bombardment slowed him down but didn't stop him.

He was just three stairs from the top when Cary beaned him in the head with the mayonnaise jar. Cary's pitch had a lot of heat behind it, and Grogan went down fast as a knocked-out boxer.

Finally.

I did it I did it I did it!

Cary slumped back against the wall almost as fast as Grogan had collapsed on the stairs. Twitching and shivering, he gulped down breaths like Kool-Aid on a summer day and stared at the motionless body of Blacksheep.

It would've been funny if things hadn't been so serious just then. Grogan, the self-made terror of the house, was covered with food slop from head to toe, oozing with eggs and tomato and spaghetti and milk and meat. He looked like he'd been on the losing side of a school cafeteria food fight or an exploding supermarket.

Now what?

Cary got back to his feet and went to the top of the stairs. "Celeste?" he said, calling out loud enough that his voice would be heard in the basement. "Paisley? Baron?"

Nobody answered. In fact, Cary didn't hear a sound from the basement at all.

What if they're already dead? What if I wasn't in time to save them?

He had to get down there. The trouble was, Grogan's body was blocking the stairs.

Maybe, he thought, if he just gave Grogan a push, the body would slide down out of the way.

Cary turned sideways and took hold of the rail along one wall with both hands. Gingerly, he lowered one foot to the top stair and shifted his weight to it, then brought his other foot down alongside it.

Next, he lowered a foot to the second stair. That was when his heart just about blew a hole through his chest.

Just as Cary was bringing down the other foot, Grogan made a grab for him.

Adrenaline burning in his bloodstream, Cary scrambled back up the stairs and out of reach...and Grogan followed. Cary slammed the door shut, but Grogan blasted it back open.

Oh my God oh my God oh my God.

Cary tried to sprint away, but Grogan caught hold of the back of his pajama top. "
Asshole!
" said Grogan. "F-Fuckin'
asshole!
"

Cary flung up his arms and twisted out of his pajama top, then made a grab for the big knife on the floor.

Before he could scoop it up, Grogan shoved him across the room. Cary slid to a stop against a cupboard, wincing as the handle jammed into the top of his spine.

He watched as Grogan picked up the knife and marched toward him.

"D-didyou think youcould k-kill
me
?" Grogan's fangs flashed as he slashed the knife through the air in front of him.

Cary looked to either side of Grogan, trying to pick which way to go when he made a run for it. Neither direction looked good.

"I thought you
knew
by n-now," said Grogan.

Suddenly, Cary leaped up and tried to dart around Grogan...only to end up spilled on the floor when Grogan stuck out a foot and tripped him.

"
I'm
in ch-charge here!" Grogan kicked Cary hard in the side, then lashed back his foot for another shot. "I
always
win!"

When the second kick landed, Cary rolled onto his side and curled up fetal style, facing away from Grogan. He couldn't hold back the scream when Grogan's third kick punched into his kidneys.

"
Loser
!" Grogan sounded louder and crazier with each passing moment. "
Mother-fucking loser asshole pussy shithead!
"

Then, suddenly, there was a sound like the crack of a baseball bat, and Grogan stopped talking. The next savage kick that Cary had been expecting never came.

He heard something crumple to the floor.

When Cary rolled over and looked up, even though it was dark in the kitchen, he could still clearly see E.Q. gazing down at him.

"Are you all right?" E.Q. was rubbing the knuckles of his right hand.

Cary guessed he'd used them to punch Grogan, who lay in a motionless sprawl at E.Q.'s feet.

"That depends." Cary felt like he was on the verge of crying like a baby. "Is the rest of the Nuclear Family all dead?"

E.Q.'s face stiffened. "Where are they?"

Cary started sobbing. "I tried to save them," he said. "I really, really tried."

E.Q. crouched down and put a hand on Cary's shoulder. "I know you did, son. I'm proud of you. You're a true Beacon." He squeezed Cary's shoulder. "Now tell me where your brother and sisters are."

 

*****