by R. L. Ullman
I spin around and gasp.
Because standing in front of me is a hunched figure.
At first, I think it’s a man, but there’s something wrong with his head. Then, he steps onto the pavement and I realize it isn’t a man at all. His head is shaped like a wolf, and every inch of his muscular body is covered in matted, brown fur.
My jaw hits the floor.
Holy cow!
I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
It’s a… a… werewolf?!?
The beast stares at me with his bright red eyes as a long string of drool drips from the corner of his mouth, splattering onto the pavement.
I want to move, but I’m glued to the spot.
Then, he lets out an ear-piercing HOWL.
And to my horror, several creatures HOWL back.
HERE A WEREWOLF, THERE A WEREWOLF
Despite my limited knowledge of low budget B-movies, I’m pretty sure the creature staring me down meets all the criteria for a bonafide werewolf.
Angry wolf face. Check.
Disgustingly smelly, furry body. Double check.
Clear intention to kill me. Triple check.
That’s when my fight or flight mode kicks in. There’s no question I’m choosing flight, but I’d already used up my super speed escaping from Snide. I’ve got nothing left in the tank!
Based on the look in the beast’s eyes, I have no doubt he’ll tear me to shreds as soon as I move a muscle. Then again, if I just stand here doing nothing, I’m pretty sure he’ll tear me to shreds anyway. So, I guess this is a lose-lose situation.
Maybe Johnny was right. Maybe I should’ve just stayed at the New England Home for Troubled Boys. After all, what’s a little torture compared with losing your life forever?
Then I realize something.
The werewolf hasn’t attacked me.
Why hasn’t he attacked me?
I mean, he’s got me cornered. He could have easily gobbled me up by now and had cheesecake for dessert. Yet, he hasn’t moved. Why not?
At this point I’ve got nothing to lose, so I figure I’ll test the waters.
“Um, if you don’t mind,” I say, “I’ve got to go. You see I’ve got this huge book report on some dead guy due tomorrow, and I haven’t even started the darn book yet. You look like you’ve been in that situation a few times yourself. So, anyway, I hope you have a great night.”
I take a step backwards and the werewolf lets out a deep-throated growl. Then, he steps towards me.
Okay, he clearly didn’t like that. But then again, he still hasn’t pounced on me either.
That’s when I get a crazy thought.
I take a step to my left.
The werewolf steps right, staying in front of me.
Weird.
I step right. He steps left.
Still in front of me.
Great. I’m square dancing with a werewolf.
For some reason, wherever I go he wants to keep me dead in his sights. But there’s one direction I haven’t tried yet. Of course, this could mean certain death.
Here goes nothing.
I say a prayer and take a step forward.
The werewolf’s eyes grow big, and he leaps ten feet backwards, snarling angrily. Well, I wasn’t expecting that! It almost seems like he’s afraid of me.
How’s that even possible?
But I’ll have to figure that out later, because this might be my only chance to escape. I wheel around to bolt when, to my surprise, two other creatures leap out of the woods in front of me, scaring the bejesus out of me.
More werewolves!
These two are just as big as the first one, except one is black and the other is light brown. And now, with his buddies present, werewolf number one seems to have regained his confidence, because he lets out a series of sharp hoots, like he’s barking orders.
Suddenly, the three spread out around me.
I’m surrounded!
If I don’t come up with a plan, I’ll be mincemeat. Maybe I can get that first one to back up again so I can make a break for it? I step towards him, but this time he doesn’t budge. Instead, he roars back with such foul-smelling ferocity it makes me wish I was wearing a gas mask.
Well, that didn’t work.
In fact, I think I made him angrier.
Suddenly, panic sets in. How could I be so stupid to think a kid-eating werewolf was scared of me? He was probably just keeping an eye on me until his friends showed up. After all, who likes dining alone?
Then, they move in.
I start hyperventilating.
Everywhere I look, all I see are teeth, fur, and claws. Is this how it’s going to end? I can see the headlines now: Loner kid mauled by angry gang of werewolves.
I close my eyes and brace myself for the first slash of claws. But instead, I feel something… different.
Something light lands over my head and body.
I open my eyes to find I’m covered in a thin, white netting. It’s sticky and sort of tickles where it touches my skin. What’s going on?
The next thing I know, the net tightens, cinching my arms against my sides. I try extending my elbows, but I can’t. It’s too strong.
Suddenly, I’m lifted clear into the air and over the surprised faces of my wolfish friends. I’m flying high above the trees, far away from danger.
Yes! I’m saved!
But then I realize I’m not getting any higher. In fact, I hang in the air for a moment and my stomach lurches.
And then gravity does its thing.
No! I’m going to go splat!
My stomach drops, and I start plummeting towards the ground at ridiculous speed, my arms still pinned to my sides. So, I do what any reasonable person would do in a situation like this—I scream my lungs out!
The ground is approaching fast, and depending on which end I land on, I’ll either break my head or my legs. I close my eyes, seconds away from impact. But instead of bouncing off the ground, someone catches me in the nick of time.
In fact, it seems like a whole group of people catch me all at once, because I feel multiple arms cushioning different parts of my body. I’m so relieved I decide right then and there to dedicate the rest of my life to each and every person who saved me.
But it’s not until I open my eyes that I realize I’ll have more free time on my hands than I thought, because I’m not lying in the arms of multiple people, but rather one person with multiple arms!
I do a double take.
Okay, I’m clearly being held by a man. I mean, he looks like a normal man, with dark hair, a bushy beard, and a warm smile. But then I realize he’s holding me in all of his arms, two of which are completely normal, but the other four looks like the appendages of… a spider?
I nearly pass out.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
“A-Are you Spiderman’s brother?” I stammer.
“Something like that,” he says with a wink.
He swipes down with one of his spider legs and cuts the strange wrapping from my body. Finally, my arms are free! I touch the material. It’s a spider web! The thickest spider web I’ve ever seen.
It’s only when he sets me on my feet that I realize how massive he is. He’s tall and super muscular. But of course, his size isn’t his most notable feature. That distinction belongs to his limbs. There are eight in total: two normal arms, two normal legs, and four spider legs—two on each side of his torso.
I close my eyes. Maybe this is all just a weird dream. But when I open them again, he’s still standing there—spider legs and all.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Me? Oh, I’m great,” I say. “Just another day talking casually with an enormous man-spider.”
“Did the werewolves bite you?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “They didn’t touch me.”
“You’re lucky. If a werewolf bites you, you’ll likely turn into one yourself.”
“Well, isn’t that a kick in the
pants,” I say.
“Listen, we’ve got to get out of here,” he says.
I agree with that. But to where? And I don’t even know this guy’s name. If I can just get some food in me, I can use my speed and make my own getaway.
“Yeah,” I say. “About that. Look, I really appreciate you saving me and all, but I think I’m just gonna go solo from here on out. You wouldn’t happen to have a tomato or a red pepper on you? Maybe a spare slice of pizza?”
The giant looks down at me and shakes his head.
“Kid, do you really think you’re just going to just walk out of here like nothing happened? Do you even know why those hounds are after you?”
Well, now I feel totally stupid.
“Of course, I know,” I say, faking it. “It’s because, um … one time I … okay, I’ve got nothing.”
“Let me simplify it,” he says. “They’re after one thing and they won’t stop until they get it. And that’s you.”
“Me? Why are those circus rejects after me? What did I do to them?”
“You were born,” he says. “And now you’ve been discovered.”
“Um, could you possibly be any more cryptic?”
“Okay, listen up because I’m gonna have to make this quick,” he says, his darting all around. “You see, we’ve been watching you from the beginning. We knew this would happen one day. We just didn’t think it would be today.”
“Wait,” I say. “What do you mean you’ve been watching me?”
He puffs up his chest and says, “Let’s just say I have an extensive net-work.” Then, he wiggles his spider legs.
“Net-work? What are you—”
Then it hits me.
I suddenly realize what he’s talking about. He’s part spider. There was a spider in my room when I got to the New England Home for Troubled Boys. There was a spider in the dungeon. Then my mind flashes back to all of the spiders I’ve seen throughout my life and I realize they’ve always been there. Every foster family. Every group home. Everywhere.
Holy tarantulas!
Those spiders weren’t random. They were a network of spies! My entire life has been bugged!
I back away, my heart racing. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
“I go by Crawler,” he says. “For obvious reasons. I know I look strange and what I’m telling you may sound crazy, but I’m what’s called a ‘Supernatural.’ And so are you.”
“A ‘Super-what?’” I ask, totally lost. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re a Supernatural, Bram,” Crawler repeats.
“How do you know my na—?” I start, but then I remember. “Right, your spider spy network thingy.”
“Here’s how it breaks down,” he says. “In this world, you’re either a ‘Natural,’ which is a person without special abilities, or a ‘Supernatural,’ otherwise known as a person with special abilities. Guess which you are?”
“Normal?” I say.
“Really?” Crawler says. “My mistake. I thought you were the kid with super speed and a bad habit of getting burned in sunlight.”
Well, I guess he knows me alright.
“Okay,” I say. “So, let’s just say I’m one of those things you mentioned. I still don’t get why this is all happening now.”
Crawler smiles. “Let’s just say that ‘now’ we’re not the only ones who know about you. You’re a special kind of Supernatural.”
“I’m special?” I say with a laugh. Now I’m convinced this is a case of mistaken identity. “And by the way, who is this we you keep talking about?”
But before he can answer, there’s a SNAP!
The werewolves have found us!
“We’ve wasted too much time,” Crawler says, stepping in front of me. “Stay back.”
I see the two brown werewolves, but where’s the—
“Duck!” Crawler yells.
I hit the deck just as Crawler swings two of his spider legs over my head, firing off a series of webs. When I look up the black werewolf is pinned to a tree, only a few feet behind me. The creature struggles to get free, but the webbing is too strong.
Then, Crawler spins and lets loose an onslaught of spiderwebs. But the other two are too fast, disappearing into the brush.
“We’ve got to get out here,” Crawler says. “They’ll be back soon. They’re probably marshalling reinforcements.”
“Wait, you mean there’s more of those things?”
“Lot’s more,” he says. “It’s time to go. Come on.”
Then, he reaches out his hand.
But for some reason, I hesitate.
“Aren’t you coming?” he asks.
I don’t know why I paused. Maybe it’s because I’m nuts. Or maybe it’s because I don’t know who he’s working for. But deep down, I sense that if I go with him, everything in my life will change—and it may not be for the better.
Suddenly, HOWLS fill the air.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say, grabbing his hand.
Crawler scoops me onto his back and sprints. With his long stride and extra limbs, the guy can really move. I hold on for dear life, dodging branches as we weave through the trees. A few minutes later, we come upon a clearing where a motorcycle is parked. It’s a chopper, with a long front-end and extended handlebars. For a second, I wonder if I’ll be riding piggyback, but as we get closer, I see a sidecar.
Crawler climbs on and lowers me into the seat. Then he buckles my seatbelt with his spider legs and pops a helmet onto my head.
There’s a series of HOWLS behind us. I turn to see a swarm of dots in the distance: four, then ten, then twenty.
The werewolves are heading straight for us!
“Gun it!” I yell.
“Hang on,” Crawler says coolly. Then he puts on a pair of sunglasses, kickstarts the engine, and we’re off.
WELCOME TO WEIRDVILLE
I wake with a start.
Unfortunately, I’m not lying in bed at the New England Home for Troubled Boys just having a bad dream. Instead, I’m riding shotgun with a man-spider on a motorcycle. My head is throbbing, and my tongue feels like I’ve been chewing on a sock. I must have passed out, which isn’t surprising given all of the energy I expended during the whole werewolf incident.
Speaking of werewolves.
I take in our surroundings and realize we’re driving down some deserted road without a werewolf in sight. I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but it must have been a while because the sun is now peeking over the horizon. I have to give major props to Crawler for getting us to safety relatively unscathed, my long-term therapy bills notwithstanding.
I slump back into the sidecar. So much has happened it’s hard to process it all. According to Crawler, I’m some kind of a ‘Supernatural,’ whatever that means. And because of that, I’m now kidnapping target numero uno for a band of rabid werewolves.
That alone is crazy but toss in Snide’s comments about my dad being the one who dropped me into foster care and I’m still reeling. I mean, was Snide telling me the truth or was he just pushing my buttons?
I need answers, and I’m about to ask Crawler some very pointed questions, when he suddenly announces—
“We’re here.”
I look up just in time to see a black sign on the side of the road. At first, it’s blank, but then bold, white letters appear out of nowhere. That’s weird. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. Anyway, the sign reads:
VAN HELSING ACADEMY
Van Helsing what?!?
“Wait a minute,” I yell over the engine. “Are you taking me to a school?”
“Something like that,” Crawler yells back.
My back tenses up. Schools are not—and never will be—my thing. I’m not a good student, which is probably because I never spent any meaningful time at one school. Moving from family to family meant moving from school to school. And when you spend your life being fumbled around like a football, you tend not to make friends or get attention from teacher
s who think you’re just passing through.
So, if this is where he’s taking me, I won’t be sticking around for long.
Suddenly, Crawler goes off-roading through the woods, bouncing me along some bumpy path I didn’t see before. And the next thing I know, we’re riding beside a huge iron fence. It looks thirty feet tall and miles long, with barbed wire wrapped around the top. Okay, I don’t know any schools that need this kind of security. I mean, if I didn’t catch the sign on the way in, I’d think we were visiting a prison.
Crawler rolls up to the main entrance. The massive front gate is closed shut, and the security booth is unmanned. Then, I notice a giant, yellow sign plastered front-and-center on the gate door. It reads:
RESTRICTED AREA.
DO NOT ENTER.
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Well, that’s unwelcoming.
Needless to say, this doesn’t look good.
“We’re not seriously going in there, are we?” I ask.
“Yep,” Crawler says. “We seriously are.”
The next thing I know, a small device extends from the side of the security booth. At first, I think it’s a microphone, but then it emits a thin, red light—like a laser. Crawler puts his face in front of it and it scans his pupils. Seconds later, the gate slides open with a slow and eerie screech.
Before I can object, Crawler powers us forward and I watch the gate close quickly behind us. Great. I guess there’s no turning back now. But when I face forward, my jaw drops, because what’s on the inside looks nothing like what’s on the outside.
In fact, it looks like we’re riding onto the movie set of an amazing prep school campus, with rolling green hills, expertly trimmed hedges, and stately brick buildings. Now I’m totally confused. Why would a place as nice as this need so much security?
We motor down the smooth driveway towards three massive buildings surrounding a perfectly manicured lawn. In my mind’s eye, I can totally picture kids hanging out here, chucking Frisbees and relaxing on the grass. Except at this early hour there’s no one around. Which reminds me I don’t want to get a sunburn.
Crawler pulls around the circular driveway and parks in front of the center building. As I remove my helmet and step out of the sidecar, I can only marvel at the gigantic structure before me. The building is five stories high and seems a half mile long. The exterior is red brick, with crisp white windows, and a cupola adorning the roof. The giant, double-doored entrance is flanked by marble white columns. I’ve got to admit, this place is downright swanky.