Hidden Monster

by Amanda Strong

  ***

  One second I was about to confess my crazy love for Blake, the next, both boys are disappearing right before my eyes. I fumbled to feel Blake’s body still. He held onto me. I felt his forehead press against mine.

  “Sam, listen to me. You need to camo out now!” His words were laced with urgency.

  “I don’t know how!”

  “It’s easy, all you have to do—” His words were cut off when something slammed into the both of us. The impact pushed me back, knocking the air out of me. I gasped and then scrambled to feel Blake again, but he was gone. I could hear him though; the sound of punches, groans, bones popping, and yelling assaulted my ears. Someone invisible must have attacked him, or maybe it was the other way around. I couldn’t tell.

  Off in the distance, I heard Mack yell out, “How do you like them apples, sucker!” Then his words were muffled by his gasping groan, like he’d been punched in the gut. Scanning the sky, I could decipher silhouettes shifting, changing their camo to match their surroundings. I wondered who they were and how many were here. By the sounds I heard, I knew there were at least three or four of them. Seemed like Mack and Blake were fighting off multiple assailants.

  “Sam, get out of here!” Blake growled from above me.

  His words snapped me into action. What am I doing? I didn’t know how to camo, but I knew how to fly. As much as I wanted to help them, I knew I’d be no match physically. I jetted downward, pushing my wings to their limit. In my haste, I made the decision to head for the trees, spotting a place where the pine trees were thick. I needed to somewhere to hide. I prayed no one had followed me, but I felt like a huge target for the taking. Curses! Why didn’t I learn to camo first thing?

  I hit the trees hard, breaking branches as I tried to slow down. If my escape hadn’t drawn attention, my crash landing would. I swore under my breath as I clutched at one tree’s trunk, ignoring the sting of the thousands of scrapes and bruises I was receiving. My wings finally stopped and I clambered up on a branch, pressing my back against the bark. I didn’t want to be on the ground. I gulped in air and slowly exhaled, straining to hear anything above my panting. Sweat rolled down my forehead and dripped into my eyes. I’d never flown that hard before.

  Nothing. Not even the sound of the fight high above me.

  I exhaled and swiped the sweat off my face.

  Then I heard it. A hiss of air and a creak of a branch right above me.

  I froze. Crap, crap, crap!

  I inhaled sharply, paying attention to the scent. No musky mint… not Kory. Not woodsy, not Blake. I realize then I had no idea how Mack smelled. Better give him a sniff next time. When Dragon Fae were camo’ed, you relied heavily on your other senses, that much I was learning. I held perfectly still. There was definitely a smell to my visitor.

  It reminded me of a cellar. Cold, dank, and smelling of rotting potatoes. Ugh…

  I shrunk against the bark. I knew he or she could see me. I sensed they were watching, waiting. I willed myself to become invisible. But nothing happened. How is camo so dang easy to Blake?

  I felt like I’d been frozen in place forever. I didn’t know why he/she hadn’t done anything yet when it was apparent his/her friends had no problem attacking my friends. What is he waiting for?

  My spine tingled. I’d felt this feeling before. He was stalking me. Like a mountain lion biding his time, getting to know its prey’s habits, patiently waiting for the importune time. Why not now? I’m defenseless!

  I tried to still my breathing, to stop hyperventilating. I felt the tree tremble ever so slightly. Maybe my fear caused him to move; maybe he liked me being afraid. Maybe this was what he was waiting for. To see the terror on my face when he attacked. I commanded myself to calm down. Focus on what you know. That smell, have I smelled it before? For some reason, the memory of walking to Blake’s that day came to mind. Is this who I’d sensed watching me? That followed me to his house?

  My gut said yes. Well, that’s something, I guess. I honed in on the details surrounding me. The faint sounds of the battle carried on somewhere above me. I heard Blake growl, and then there was a yelp. I prayed it wasn’t Mack. As worried as I was for them, I knew my situation had proven to be much more precarious. I focused on my visitor. I tucked its stench away, determined to never forget it. Its mustiness made me wonder. It smells old. Blake doesn’t believe bugs exist anymore, but can he be wrong? Maybe it’s what Kory’s been tracking. I don’t even know what a bug really is? Is it just a really old dragon? What makes it a ‘bug’ anyway?

  If I survived this, I’d get my answers. Time seemed irrelevant. I had no idea how long I’d been on that branch. My breathing had steadied, the sweat on my face and chest dried, leaving my skin feeling cool. Its stench grew stronger. Is it getting closer?

  I had to know. I forced my chin up and scrutinized the branch above me, straining to make out the minutest details. Amid crisscrossing branches and leaves bouncing in the breeze, that was when the silhouette of a hulking frame became visible. I gasped. He’s a monster!

  He crouched down only a few feet above me. How he didn’t crash through the flimsy branch he perched on was beyond me. Bugs were definitely not the same as dragons. I’m so dead…

  The outline of its head was double the size of mine. It tilted it to the side, as if considering me. I swallowed, but my eyes remained fixated on it. I couldn’t look away as I steeled myself for it to lunge at me. I knew it wanted to… I sensed it wanted to.

  Should I say something? Beg for mercy? But my lips felt sealed shut.

  Then it exhaled slowly, deliberately loud. I think he knows I can see him now. There was a low rumble, raspy, yet wet sounding. Like an old man who needs to cough. Is it laughing at me?

  Ask him what he wants! my mind screamed, but I couldn’t. What if he said the words I hated? What if he said I’d love him one day? Then I’d know he’s my monster… Although, he’s twice the size of the guy in the cabin…

  I opened my mouth just as its head snapped upward. It took me a second minute to refocus on him. He searched the skies. That was when I realized the battle overhead had grown quiet. I heard nothing, no groans or grunts from punches received.

  “Sam!” Blake called down.

  The branch above me snapped up violently. A blast of wind hit my face, the impact from the wake his massive wings had left behind. The thing had taken off, the smell of it fading away.

  “Blake!” I screamed. “Watch out!”

  I thought for sure it would attack him. Blake became visible, soaring down into the trees. His T-shirt was all but threads, his chest bare and glistening in sweat. Cuts and scrapes covered his arms, and blood trailed from the corner of his mouth. As his wings carried him to me, he ripped what was left of his shirt off and wiped his face clean.

  I searched for the musty smell, but the bug was gone. It hadn’t wanted Blake; it wanted me.

  He landed beside me, grabbing my arms. His eyes searched me up and down. “Are you hurt?”

  I didn’t miss the panic in his voice. “No, he left me alone. You’re the one who’s hurt.”

  “Wait, he? You weren’t alone?” Then he released me, sniffing at the air. If it weren’t a serious time, I probably would have laughed. Images of Blake’s dog came to mind. But now wasn’t the time.

  I heard him gasp and breathe out, “No way,” then his eyes bore down on me. “Stay here.” Before I could say another word, he had disappeared, bursting through the trees.

  I wanted to plead with him not follow the thing that had hovered over me, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. If Blake had caught its scent, he wasn’t coming back without putting up a fight. That much I was sure of.

  I felt something stir on the other side of me at the same time the scent of orange citrus and spices wafted at me. It reminded me of the potpourri my mom used to burn, but more subtle. He ditched the camo fast enough that I didn’t have time to be afraid.

  “Did you know you smell like potpourri, Mac
k?” I exclaimed.

  At the same time, he asked, “Sammy, you okay?”

  Then I noticed Mack’s appearance. I gasped, “I’m fine, but you’re not.” A deep gash above his right eye left a river of blood flowing down his cheek and dripping off his jaw.

  “It’s all good,” Mack said, shrugging. “That’s nothing. You should’ve seen the other guy.” He lifted his arm to wipe it away with his sleeve.

  I grabbed his arm, stopping him. “No, wait, you’ll make it worse. Let me do it.” I searched for an adequate bandage, and then settled on ripping the bottom half of my T-shirt off. It was pretty clean, better than Mack’s filthy one. Cool air hit my naked stomach as I dabbed up the blood running down his face and then pressed the clean side of the cloth against his injury.

  His hand covered mine as he took over. “Thanks, Sammy, I got it.”

  Our eyes met, and since I stood a bit lower on the branch, we were exactly eye level. For a moment, we stayed like that, saying nothing, his hand holding mine. It felt familiar and comforting on some level. Well duh, Samantha, he’s only been your best friend since fourth grade, I reminded myself. Honestly, it felt like more than that though. I had a weird feeling we’d stared at each like this before.

  I pulled my hand free and nodded. “Glad you’re okay, Mack.”

  His eyes searched mine and then he grinned. “Like I said, you should have seen the other guy.”