I held them out, trembling. Adam untied my mangled wrappings, then ripped a sleeve in half and tied a strip around each of my palms. “There. That’ll hold better than what you had before.” He sighed. “It looks like it hurts. Can you walk?”
I crawled to my feet. My right knee felt like it was on fire, but that was nothing compared to my feet. “I can. But I’m going to be slow.”
Gently, Adam took my arm and put it across the back of his shoulders, supporting me. “That’s going to have to do.”
SCENE ELEVEN:
ONE HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES LEFT
The path ended in a huge clearing. Short grass covered the ground, and I wrinkled my nose as I kneeled to touch it gently. It was fake, but not deadly.
We circled the clearing from the safety of the trees. I was limping, my socks shredded to ribbons. “There it is,” I whispered. “See?”
Up ahead, sitting off-center, was a bright purple circus tent. It was at least two stories high, extending hundreds of feet in diameter. And it glowed.
“Whoa. That looks … alien,” I said.
“That’s just the light coming from the inside. The tent is transluscent so it shines through.”
We moved closer, trying to keep to the shadows at the edge of the woods. The tent was tethered to the ground with wooden stakes. A gravel path lined with tiki lamps led to an open flap. The lamps cast a cheerful glow that reminded me of Haylie’s nightlight. Voices and laughter carried from the tent.
I set my jaw. This was all a trick—an illusion of safety and comfort to prevent the monsters’ captives from wondering what was going on. Until it was too late.
It wasn’t just Haylie being tricked, either. I’d been so focused on saving my little sister that I hadn’t thought about the other kids. Even if we saved Haylie, we couldn’t save all the others. Some of them—most of them—would be left behind.
Now, I really, truly understood Aunt Lucy’s guilt, her obsession with Down Below, and why she’d designed Monsterville. She couldn’t forgive herself for leaving the other kids behind.
I didn’t think I could forgive myself, either.
“I hate to say this,” Adam said, glancing at his watch, “but we only have a little over an hour until sunrise.” He swallowed. “I think, well—”
All along, even though I’d known we didn’t have much time, that we might not get back before dawn, that risk had never felt real. But now it did.
“I failed,” I said numbly. “Even if we get to Haylie in time, then what? How do we get back before sunup? This is all my fault.”
“No, it isn’t,” Blue replied instantly.
“Yeah, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Adam added.
I shook my head. “I should be hard on myself. I knew Haylie was in danger, and I didn’t protect her. What kind of a sister am I?”
“You’re a great one. This wasn’t your fault. Now come on—we need to focus.” Adam squinted at the tent. “How do we do this?”
“We need a distraction,” I said. “We can’t just go in there and take her.” I turned to Blue. “Do you remember anything specific about Transformation? What it looks like inside there? What you were doing?”
Blue shifted from one foot to the other, chewing his lower lip. “Not really. There were a lot of lights. And lots of things to do …” He puffed out his mouth. “I think there were balloon animals. And face-painting.”
“They wanted to keep you guys happy until dawn,” Adam said. “That makes sense. Give you all sorts of fun things to do so you wouldn’t ask why you were there.”
“If there’s so much going on in the tent, we might be able to sneak in,” I said. But I wasn’t really sold on the idea. It didn’t seem smart to barge in without knowing the setup. And we couldn’t waste time on half-baked ideas.
Adam was staring at one of the long ropes that tethered the tent to the ground. “You know,” he said slowly, “I bet we could make this tent come down.”
“Saw at the ropes, you mean?”
He nodded. “I still have my two knives—the Swiss and the pocketknife.”
My mind raced. “Okay, that’ll be our distraction. But how do we get Haylie out?” I glanced at the tent’s open flap. There was shadowy movement and an occasional flash of light, but not much else.
Suddenly a firecracker flew from the opening, exploding in a shower of purples and pinks. Cheers and clapping erupted from inside.
“Seems like a great party,” I said grimly. And then it hit me. “A party!” I repeated, whacking Adam on the back with my elbow.
“Ow!”
“That’s how we get in. We bring something amazing to the party. Something to draw Haylie out.”
“Like what?” Adam looked around the dark woods.
“Not what. Who.” I stared at Blue.
“Me?” he asked nervously.
“What do you have in mind?” Adam looked worried.
“Well, I can’t go in there. The second Haylie spots me, she’ll react.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Adam said.
“But if Blue shows up in disguise,” I continued, “she’ll follow him out without attracting attention. No screaming about how excited she is to see him.” I touched Blue’s arm. “Can you do that?” I asked him anxiously. “Change into something besides a monster?”
“I think so,” Blue said uncertainly.
I gazed into his eyes and smiled, looking as confident as possible. “You’re going to be great. I know you are.” Blue needed to know that we completely, absolutely believed in him.
“What should I change into?”
I glanced at the tent. Assuming that the best kids’ party in the world was going on in there, what would it be missing?
I smiled. “Blue, I need you to change into … a unicorn!”
“A unicorn?”
“A pink one. Glittery. With fairy wings. Haylie loves that stuff. Anything pink, or glittery, or sparkly—she’s totally onboard. And if you’re a horse … do you know what you do with horses?”
“You ride them?”
“Yes!” I whispered happily. “You ride them.” Thank you, Candice. I never would have thought of the horse idea without her. “You need to come—prance into that tent—and leave with Haylie on your back. And any other kids you can get up there. Got it?”
“Prance,” Blue repeated.
“You can do it.” I placed my bandaged hands on his bony shoulders. “If you can be a zombie, and a Sasquatch, and a swamp monster, you can totally handle prancing.”
Adam hooted, softly. “Yes, you can. And while you’re doing that, we’ll be taking this baby down.” He made a sawing motion.
“Okay.” I turned to Blue. “Curtain’s up! You ready?”
Blue stuck his fingers into his mouth and stared into space, like he was trying to solve a hard math problem. Then he removed his fingers and his brow cleared. “Ready.”
The change was quick. A pinkish hue lit Blue’s skin and then deepened. He dropped to all fours, his arms and legs lengthening into four gangly legs with purple-tipped hooves. A luxurious purple mane sprouted from his head, followed by a yellow horn.
Slowly, Blue’s skin began to shine, then glitter like he’d been rolled in tiny diamonds. Sparkly yellow wings unfolded from his back.
“So?” He pawed the ground uncertainly. “Is this good enough?”
“Wow.” I clapped my hands together before I realized how much it would hurt. “Ow. You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. No offense,” I added quickly when he glowered at me. He even had long lashes! “Haylie will love you.”
Blue tossed his mane. “Thank you. Any tips?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Just sashay in there, get Haylie, and get out of there. Oh, and kick Atticus if you see him.”
“Oh, Haylie will need a ride. I should probably lose these.” The sparkly wings disappeared from his back. “Maybe this is better.” A multi-seat, pink saddle appeared in their place.
“Smart
,” I said.
“We need a signal,” Adam said. “When you get Haylie outside, whinny as loud as you can.”
“Then what?” I asked.
“Then we’ll cut the last rope and topple the tent. We’ll all meet back here. This’ll be our marker.” Adam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a roll of orange tape. He fastened a strip around a tree branch and patted it into place.
“Good luck,” I whispered, touching Blue gently on the nose. He neighed and trotted off toward the tent, disappearing through the open flap with a flick of his purple tail.
SCENE TWELVE:
FORTY MINUTES LEFT
“Come on,” Adam said. “It’s gonna take some elbow grease to make this thing collapse.”
We raced along the edge of the trees, eyeing the ropes. There were at least twenty of them, all as thick as my arm, and stretching from grounded wooden stakes to different locations on the tent—some at the top, some in the middle.
Other than the glow from within the tent, it was completely dark. The pathway with tiki lamps wasn’t visible from where we hid. Only a handful of fake stars dotted the sky, and they seemed dull. Maybe they were running out of juice.
“Here.” Adam shoved something small and metal into my hand. “My pocketknife. It isn’t much, but it’ll work.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled. He’d already flipped the blade open for me. I watched him disappear into the dark.
I began sawing at the rope in front of me, gritting my teeth against my throbbing palms. They would’ve hurt way more if I wasn’t hyped up on adrenaline. Soon my hands were slick with sweat even under the tatters of Adam’s shirt, and I’d only sawed halfway through the first anchor.
To my right, I heard Adam’s footsteps as he raced to another rope. At least one of us was useful. I tried to move my blade faster, but it felt like using a butter knife on tough steak.
Finally, only one strand remained. “Come on, come on,” I chanted, sawing faster.
The last strand broke. I held my breath as the rope went flying, smacking softly against the side of the tent. The wall tilted very slightly, and I scrambled to my feet and ran blindly through the dark, to the next line.
Adam was crouched about thirty feet away, hacking away with his Swiss Army knife. I could hear him sawing in time to the tinny music. Every once in a while, laughter drowned out the carnival notes—the high, happy sound of kids having fun.
I settled in front of another rope and started cutting. This one was easier—the rope was thinner. Or maybe I was just fueled by rage and desperation. I forgot all about my cuts and how dull the knife was. I just hacked away until it frayed and went flying. Then I was up and running again, hobbling on my left leg.
How many ropes were there? If we were a quarter of the way around and had taken care of five, then maybe twenty? Twenty-two?
I crouched next to another line, but I hurt too much. Footsteps padded toward me, and Adam’s breath was warm in my ear. “Just do this one and then run to the other side, okay? I have an idea.” He placed a hand on my shoulder before disappearing.
I frowned, concentrating on the rope in front of me. This one was tougher and it took me a few seconds to cut into it. I moved the blade clumsily, my fingers throbbing. My ears were pricked the entire time, waiting for Blue’s signal.
The rope gave and smacked against the side of the tent. Done! I rose on shaky legs and ran to where Adam waited on the other side.
“All the ropes on that side are cut,” he whispered. “If we take one rope on this side, and pull it hard, this whole thing should fall.”
“When should we pull? At Blue’s signal?”
“You got it. The second we hear it, jump and grab that one.” He pointed at a rope directly in front of us—a long, thick one stretching all the way from the ground to the top of the tent.
A long, low whinny sounded from across the clearing.
“Now!” Adam shouted, grabbing the rope and yanking it.
With a running leap, my fingers closed around the taut cord. I gritted my teeth as the cuts on my hands burned, tucking my legs to apply more weight to the rope.
In a few seconds, the agony had shifted from my hands to my feet. The rope sagged, and my knees grazed the ground. “Adam! The tent!”
We stared as it rippled and fluttered. Angry cries came from inside, and the music halted mid-song.
“Go, Lissa! Go, go, go, go, go!”
We took off, giving the tent a wide berth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it collapsing. Call me crazy, but it reminded me of an imploding birthday cake—lazily tilting to the right, fluttering and flattening over the ground.
I could see the outline of horns and heads and hands as the monsters tried to punch their way out, their screams muffled by the heavy canvas.
Up ahead, Blue was waiting at the edge of the trail, still in adorable unicorn form. It had been a good call to make him glittery. He was like a beacon.
I sighed in relief when I saw Haylie perched on his back, her fingers clutching his purple mane. She was really there. And she was okay. Three other kids sat behind her, but I was too far away to see them clearly.
“Lissy!” Haylie cried from across the field. All happy, like I was picking her up from an hour at the playground. I raced to her, my breath coming in gasps. It took me a second to realize I wasn’t out of breath because I was tired. It was because I was crying.
SCENE THIRTEEN:
THIRTY MINUTES LEFT
I stood on my tiptoes to lift Haylie from Blue’s back, not caring how much it hurt my hands. Her blonde hair was tousled and her pajamas were wrinkled, but she seemed fine. Not even scared. She was even still clutching her fairy wand.
I hugged her tightly. “Let’s go home,” I said into her hair, and I was shocked to realize that I thought of Freeburg as “home.”
She pulled away. “Not now! There’s a surprise! And cotton candy!”
“Haylie, you need to listen to me, okay? Those monsters in there”—I pointed to the tent, where some of the monsters were stumbling out—“are not your friends. They’re bad. Really bad. Like I told you tonight.” Last night. Gosh, that felt like forever ago.
Confusion knitted Haylie’s forehead. “They are?”
“Yes. Just trust me. The cotton candy, the games—all of it—it’s a trick.”
“They wouldn’t do that. They’re my friends.”
“They’re not your friends.” I swallowed. I didn’t want to scare her. “They’ve hurt Blue. And if we stay, they’ll hurt you, too.”
“They hurt Blue?” It was like a thundercloud had descended. Her eyes narrowed, and she clutched her wand in her fist.
“Yes. So we need to get away. Now.”
“Okay,” Haylie said. “Let’s go home.”
One of the other kids heard her, a red-haired girl with big green eyes. “Home? I want to go home.”
“Me, too,” echoed the two girls sitting behind her, and I pulled away from Haylie to look at them. They both had brown hair and sleepy eyes.
“My name’s Lissa. I’m Haylie’s big sister. What are your names?”
“Amy,” the red-haired girl said.
“I’m Emma,” said one of the brown-haired girls. The other kept her mouth clamped shut. “That’s Sadie,” Emma whispered.
“Nice to meet everyone,” I said quickly, lifting Haylie from Blue’s back and setting her on the ground. “But we really don’t have t—”
Before I could finish, something barreled from the tent, a huge ball rolling toward us like a runaway snowball. It stopped close enough for us to smell its putrid stench as it unfurled into a green, gangly monster at least seven feet tall. Even with its hunchback.
It was wearing a party hat that cast a shadow over its face. All I could make out was a pointy chin and drool dripping from yellow fangs.
“Atticus.” Blue whinnied, rearing up, and Atticus grabbed his reins.
“Welcome home. Allow me to show you to the party.”
“You let go of him!” Adam screamed, raising his fists. But before he could move another muscle, Atticus put a clawed hand on the center of his face and pushed. Adam flew ten feet before colliding with a tree.
“Adam!” I yelled.
“You!” Haylie screamed, glaring up at Atticus. In the dim light, my adorable little sister’s face looked almost demented. “You hit Adam!”
She raised her wand and brought it down on Atticus’s bare foot. As it pierced his skin, green slime spurted from the wound. It was just like the stuff they use at the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards. Atticus roared, letting go of the reins.
“And this is for Blue!” This time, the wand got his other foot. Man, Haylie was lethal! The wand stuck, like a flag claiming territory of a new country.
I was impressed, but not totally surprised. In rescue missions in the movies, it’s not unusual for the person being saved to pull her own weight in sticky situations.
“Let’s go!” I screamed, running to help Adam up. “You okay?”
He shook his head. “Just a little dazed. I’ll be fine. Now what?”
I glanced at Atticus, who was climbing to his feet, a murderous look in his eyes.
“We need a shortcut. We don’t have enough time.”
“Can we ride the waterslide?” Haylie piped up.
“She’s right! There’s a waterslide. A huge shortcut. Follow me!” I cried, tearing off to the far right trail.
Please, please let this be the right one, I thought to myself. What if I was wrong? We’d be dead as soon as Atticus and the rest of his monster horde caught up with us.
A branch smacked me in the face and I angrily pushed it away. Jagged rocks cut into my feet, but my pace never slowed. Now that we had a plan—and Haylie—I could handle the pain. I flew down the path at record speed.
Then I heard it. Running water! The current made a sucking sound like it was going into a culvert, and I veered off the path toward the noise, fighting my way through branches and brush.
SCENE FOURTEEN:
TWENTY-SIX MINUTES LEFT
Monsterville Page 20