by E. Van Lowe
Chapter Twenty-Six
Conner finished rolling up his pants leg and turned his calf to the light. The skin on his calf had become dark and scaly, taking on the texture of lizard skin.
“This is how the wound on my calf has been healing,” he said. There was an undertow of fear in his voice.
“The wound area has grown.”
“It gets a little bigger every day,” he said softly, and I understood why he was lying in darkness, why he’d been having trouble sleeping.
I touched it, and instinctively pulled my finger back in revulsion. “Sorry.”
“It feels like snake skin, huh?”
I nodded. The roof of my mouth had gone dry. Absently, I ran a finger along the scratch on my arm. A scab was just beginning to form.
“I take it you haven’t seen a doctor?” I asked.
“’Course not. You think my Dad and step Mom are going to take me to the doctor for a rash?”
I know what he meant. If one of his sitters got an angry looking pimple, Conner’s folks would seek out the best specialist in Beverly Hills, but it didn’t work like that for Conner.
“So, you go to the free clinic. I’ll go with you.”
“How would I explain it, Buttbrain? I got scratched by the creature in Alan’s pool, and now I think I’m turning into one? I don’t think there’s a cure for this, Josh. At least not one known by a medical doctor.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I said, trying to rationalize.
“I’m not jumping to anything. In a few weeks I’ll be a creature.” He stared at his hands. “I wonder when these will turn to claws.”
“It could just be a condition. A rash caused by some bacteria that got in the open wound. It doesn’t mean you’re turning into anything.”
He pointed to the thin scratch scabbing up on my arm. “At least I’ll have company.”
“I don’t believe it. I think you should see a doctor. Lie to him about how you got the scratches. I bet he gives you some antibiotics, and they clear it right up.”
“Right,” he said. He moved to the window and drew the drapes, once again bathing us in darkness. Then he came back and lay down on the bed.
“Do you feel any different?” I asked, moving in closer.
“Not yet,” he said without looking at me. The tone of his voice was making me uneasy. It was sounding as if he’d given up.
“The creature is telepathic. Have you developed telepathy?”
He chuckled derisively. “How would I know?”
“Tell me what I’m thinking?” I said, grasping at straws. “Right now.”
“You’re thinking about girls and food,” he replied without missing a beat.
“Okay… that was too easy. It proves nothing. What girl? What food?”
“Lara and pizza.”
“Okay, that was too easy, too.”
Conner sat up. “I don’t feel telepathic, Josh. I didn’t feel anything coming from you.”
“See?”
“But maybe I can’t read dipsticks.” He snorted out a laugh. I was glad to see he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. “It’s too bad the fall play isn’t Beauty and The Beast. I’d win that role hands down.”
He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in silence. I didn’t know what to say to cheer him up, and my time was running short.
“Look, Conner. I seriously believe you’re jumping to conclusions, but I can’t deal with that right now. Right now, I’ve got to keep me and Alan alive. When I’m done with that, we will figure this out. Together. But first, I need your help.”
The sun was nearly down by the time I got to Alan’s. I found him in the back, lying on a lounge chair, staring vacantly into the pool. Like Conner, he was in a contemplative mood.
As I approached, I spotted the two bottles of enchanted water standing by the foot of the lounge chair. The spear gun was in the chair next to him. Three extra spears lay by its side.
Seeing the instruments of death, I got a sick feeling in my stomach, the kind you get with the onset of the flu. Of course, I knew it wasn’t an illness that was causing it.
“Hey,” I called softly, stopping next to him.
He looked up from his reverie. A smile darted across his lips, resting there for just a few seconds before vanishing. It was the smile of a runner who had come in last in the race, and was trying his damnedest to tell himself it was okay.
“We’re geeks, aren’t we?” he said.
“Naw, man. We’re mad cool.”
The smile returned for another few seconds. “Sure we are.”
He went back to staring into the pool, and the sick feeling in my stomach began to spread.
Alan began talking, his voice coming from far away. “I was twelve when I had the only fight I’ve ever been in. I was in my bedroom, fighting with you.” He gazed up at me, and I could see the fear in his eyes. “You remember that fight?”
“Yeah. We were fighting over G.I. Joe with the Kung Fu grip. Your father got you one of the originals on Ebay.”
“My father had closed a big stock offering, and made a boatload of money. He bought me and my Mom expensive gifts.” Alan looked off wistfully for a moment. It was as if he was trying to wish himself back to yesteryear when things weren’t so complicated. “I was so proud of that damn thing. I wouldn’t let you, or anyone touch it. My Mom broke up the fight. My only fight and nobody won.” He gazed at me again. “Dude, fighting over G.I. Joe at age twelve certifies us as card carrying geeks.”
I couldn’t deny it, so I moved on to what was really eating him.
“We don’t have to do this,” I said.
“I do,” he replied quickly.
“Why?”
“Let me ask you something? Did you ever think that one of us would wind up with Alexia Dupree? I mean, really?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Me, either. I figured we’d spend the summer dreaming about her, scheming to be with her, arguing over who had rights to talk to her, but in the end, we all knew she’d wind up with a smooth dude like Gary Shanks. But she didn’t, did she? She wound up with me. I scored the hottest chick in Beverly Hills High.”
“So what?” I said, my voice rising. “You two have nothing in common. What do you even talk about?”
“Her, mostly. I don’t mind.”
“A guy should be with someone he can talk to about stuff, do things with, share. Being with a hot chick if you don’t have something in common is meaningless.”
He chuckled. “Now you’re sounding like a dipstick. We’re in high school, Josh. Being with a hot chick is everything. And if it means I have to kill a creature to keep her, then I’m killing a creature.”
I realized this was about more than Alexia having the power of enchantment over him. He wanted to be enchanted by her.
I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “We need to finish this discussion inside,” I said, with a quick nod toward the pool.
“Sure. No problem.”
He scooped up the bottles, while I grabbed the spear gun and spears. We entered the house through the sliding glass doors and headed down to his bedroom.
Once we were in his bedroom, among the rock star posters, the wrestling posters, the board games we used to play, and the video games we currently played, the tension between us melted away.
“I have a new plan, one where we get rid of the creature without killing him,” I said, still speaking in hushed tones.
Alan didn’t respond, but I could see the glimmer of hope brightening his eyes. I told him everything, about seeing Petros captured on video by the pool, about my talk with Petros that very morning, the entire plan.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at me, mouth agape as I laid it all out. As I went on, the color slowly returned to his cheeks.
“And Conner said he’d do it?” he asked when I finished. He and Conner had had their first big blow up ever. Getting Conner back in the fold was a coup.
“He’s in, and the only
reason he is is because this is the best way for everyone to come out of this mess alive, even the creature.”
His eyes were on me, penetrating me. The hard lines around the corners relaxed. “Thanks, Josh,” he said, and he breathed a deep sigh. “I like it.”
I lowered my voice. “Alexia and Roxanne cannot know how the creature got into your pool drain. That’s for someone else to tell them.”
He nodded. “Okay. What else?”
“One final thing. To pull this off, we’re going to need bait.”