by M. E. Eadie
***
Their first game was in one week against Edge’s team, The Terminators, and Colin expected to lose. Even so, he was buoyant about being part of a team. He hoped Spike would feel the same way sometime in the not too distant future.
In order to avoid road traffic on the way home, he took one of the back routes that led to Horwood House. A stiff breeze blew down the street. Leaves fell from the trees, exposing more of the branches. In the dark, they looked like skeletal fingers, groping, trying to capture the air. A black squirrel, long, bushy tail, flouncing behind it, stopped to stare at him, then skittered frantically away. Grizzelda must still be asleep; she had to be. Rhea’s Grandma asked him if he’d prepared the root for Grizzelda yet, and when he explained how much of the powder he used in the juice, she let out a small gasp.
Even before he approached the front gate of Horwood House, he felt the change. The ominous, dominating, stone wall around Horwood House rose up before him, but there was something else, something behind the wall, waiting. The breeze blew harder, making him shiver. He had the feeling that whatever was beyond the wall had made the house inaccessible, as though it was locked to him, guarded.
Down the street, just outside a pool of lamplight, he saw Spike standing, staring at the part of the wall that had partially crumbled.
“Spike!” called Colin, but he didn’t answer. Whatever he was looking at held him in thrall. Colin jogged over to him and stared in through the gap.
“What’s the matter?” asked Colin startling Spike.
“What are you doing sneaking up on me?” he said startled. “I can’t get in!”
“What do you mean, you can’t get in?”
“Just that, I thought it would be safe to go in here, but something came at me. It was really strange, since I can see things so much better, you know, since we moved here. But I can’t see anything in there … but somethings there, and, man, is it vicious!” said Spike. He showed him his jacket sleeve, ripped at the shoulder. “It almost took my arm off! Maybe we can get in together. I mean, we gotta get in there. We gotta make sure Melissa’s alright!”
Colin took a deep breath, knowing that if he thought about it, he wouldn’t be half so brave. He clambered up onto the broken part of the wall. With his feet dangling down on the other side, he sensed the presence of something. Taking shortcuts had inevitably brought him into conflict with territorial dogs. It was a feeling he didn’t like very much, them barking and slobbering, white fangs gnashing, nipping at his legs, but this was something other than a dog.
“Spike, whatever you do, don’t run!” he hissed.
“What is it?”
“Don’t know.”
He knew from experience that running when you were scared made things worse, much worse. The boys both dropped down on the other side of the wall. Colin could feel the thing watching them, assessing the optimal moment to strike at them.
“Run!” Yelped Spike letting his fear overcome him. He dashed across the grass toward the house.
Colin felt the lurking presence move, lurching into a hungry loping. He scanned the yard but still couldn’t see anything. The stomach-tightening tension worked its way up into his throat. The thing was heading straight to intercept Spike. There was no way he was going to make the house.
“No!” yelled Colin. “Don’t run! Stay there and don’t move!”
There were others now, like a pack closing in on their prey, circling, and even though he couldn’t see them, he knew their ferocious teeth were bared, knew their eyes were glaring with pure feral instinct, whatever they were. Colin became dreadfully unsure as he moved up to stand beside Spike. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to stand still. Spike’s face was drained of color. The air shimmered in front of them, warm air rising into cold, creating a thick mist.
“So,” said Spike tightly, “what do we do now?”
“I’ll call Sergeant Peary,” answered Colin hesitantly.
“Good idea, my guardian isn’t responding.”
No matter how hard Colin called, there was no response. It was as though there was a barrier between him and the Sergeant, and that barrier was beginning to close in on them. They had no idea what to do, except to wait for the inevitable, whatever that was.
At the apex of their greatest despair, just before the wavering, snarling creatures fell on them, a high piercing whistle punctuated the sky. Both Colin and Spike looked to where the whistle had come from, and saw, sailing through the air a huge, raw steak. It landed on the ground several meters away from them. The steaming breath of several of the things turned away from the boys and, with stunning ferocity tore at the steak, ripping large chunks out of it. In moments it would be gone.
Colin and Spike, not needing any encouragement, ran for the front door, and found it wide open to accept them. Panting, they secured the door. In the foyer, beneath the mounted head of a big stag, they found Sergeant Peary sitting comfortably in a big chair and reading the paper. As his cigar smoldered away, he looked up over the edge of the paper and eyed them auspiciously.
“Where were you?” asked Colin accusingly.
“Sorry about that, but I couldn’t get through. Neither could any guardian. You’re lucky I thought to throw the steak out there,” said Sergeant Peary, his eyes returning to his paper. “Will you look at this…” He flipped the paper around to show a picture of a man shaking his fist. “Hugh Dundas believes his son’s been abducted, crazy old goat.”
“What was that out there?” asked Colin trying to regain his composure, his heart returning to a more normal rhythm.
“Oh, that,” Sergeant Peary said dismissively. “Just the Old Man’s guard things. I say things because they’re really hard to describe and are equally ugly. It’s good you can’t see them. Someone, in their infinite wisdom, has let them out. Don’t look at me! I wouldn’t do a stupid thing like that. You’ve heard of Cerebus, the hound that guards the entrance to the underworld? Well, think of something much worse.” He shivered. Sergeant Peary saw the fear in their faces and was somewhat satisfied. “Two things you have to remember with these things: they love raw meat and they only come out at night. During the day, you can come and go as you please, but don’t get caught again, all right?”
“Thanks. Do you think Aunt Grizzelda let them out?” asked Colin.
“She couldn’t have. She’s still sleeping like a baby. You know, when she doesn’t have that scowl on her face, she’s not a bad looking woman.”
“Then who?” asserted Colin feeling the importance of knowing.
“Ofelia and Melissa are the only other people in the house,” continued Spike.
“Don’t forget the Old Man. After all, if he’s not in his crypt, where is he?” finished Peary indiscreetly, returning to his paper.
“Well, wouldn’t you know if he was dead or not?” asked Colin.
“Right, I’m supposed to be omniscient now that I’m dead?” said the gruff voice from behind the newsprint. “Think again. The union sets pretty stiff guidelines on what I can and can’t do. I guess the fear is that the living would have us running around doing everything for them.”
Colin stared at him in silence.
The paper folded revealing the Sergeant’s face.
“What? Listen, life is full of challenges, and since it’s your life, you have to deal with them. Me, my job is to keep you alive long enough for you to deal with them. Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to finish reading my paper.”
Sergeant Peary disappeared.