Last Desserts (Night Fall ™)

by Megan Atwood

  Setting the jar down on the table, Ella spun around. She scanned the shelves for something that might be the antidote.

  Suddenly, a cruel voice hissed in her ear. “What do you think you’re doing in here, missy?”

  22

  Ella jumped. Marta stood in the doorway, cheeks flushed, hair slightly askew, and cookie sheet in her oven-mitted hands. Ella had never seen a more manic, angry look in anyone’s eyes.

  “I believe you have two demerits, little missy,” Marta said evenly. “And you know what that means.” Marta slammed the cookie sheet down on the kitchen counter and moved toward Ella. Ella grabbed the bright pink food coloring and held it over the icing.

  “One more step and I will pinkify your icing!”

  Marta gasped and covered her mouth. Slowly, she lowered her arms and smoothed her skirt. Her face twisted in an unnatural smile. “No need for that, dear. We’re all friends here. Would you like a cookie? They’re fresh out of the oven.” She actually batted her eyelashes at Ella.

  Ella shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “I know what you’ve been doing to the cookies! You’re a monster!”

  Marta’s smile turned into a scowl. “A monster? I’m saving your town, little missy! Why do you think there is war and hate in the world? Because of all these differences! I’m eliminating them for the greater good!”

  “You’re eliminating people!” Ella shot back. Marta smirked. “You can’t make a cake without breaking a few eggs.” Her face grew hard. “Go ahead, missy, and put that awful pink in the icing. I’ll just make more. I’ll throw it out, just like I’ll be throwing you out!”

  Marta lunged, and Ella squirted the pink coloring in her eyes. With a howl, Marta stumbled blindly, her arms outstretched. Ella ducked away, and Marta slipped on the bright pink puddle on the floor. Her legs flew up, and she fell with a loud thwack.

  Panting, Ella leaned over Marta and saw she was still breathing. But the fall had knocked her out. Ella looked around to figure out what to do with her. She dragged Marta to a corner in the kitchen and tied her hands and legs with the straps of an apron. As an afterthought, she put an oven mitt in Marta’s mouth.

  Satisfied, Ella brushed her hands together and began searching for the antidote. She looked in cupboards and behind stacks of dishes, positive that Marta must have it somewhere. She knew that with Marta’s sense of symmetry, she would never keep a magic powder without an antidote. Ella herself never would have, either.

  It really was a shame she hadn’t gotten that job. Ella snorted. No, not a shame—the woman was crazy. But, they both did seem to love orderliness. All Ella had to do was think about where she herself would put an antidote . . . in the open! She wouldn’t hide it, not if the powder wasn’t hidden. They needed to be side by side to be organized. Looking at the shelves around the kitchen, she saw an open spot, just about the size of a jar, and moved closer. Sure enough, a matching jar sat next to the open space. She pulled the jar from the shelf. It had no label, but this had to be the antidote.

  Now all she had to do was bake a bunch of cookies with the antidote and get everyone to eat them.

  Her heart sank. No way would that happen. They would know they weren’t Marta’s cookies and they wouldn’t eat them. In fact, they’d kill her if they saw her. She couldn’t imagine how she could ever convince them not to kill her, let alone eat cookies she’d baked.

  A knock on the door startled Ella out of her thoughts. A voice from outside called, “So terribly sorry, Marta, but we were wondering if you have more cookies?” The person’s voice had an edge to it, and a slight tremor ran through the sentence. Ella remembered the warning on the side of the powder jar: highly addictive. Maybe that could help her. The people outside needed to have the cookies; maybe they’d take them from her after all.

  Time to bake. Using her best Marta voice, she called out, “Yes, dear. Very soon. In thirty minutes or so the new batch will be ready.”

  A collective groan sounded from outside the door. Ella knew she was pushing it. She had exactly thirty minutes to come up with the most perfect batch of cookies—and perfectly decorated—of her life.

  23

  Ella took a deep breath. Well, she’d always wanted to be a baker.

  Rushing around the room, she grabbed the ingredients for sugar cookies from memory. She picked up the jar of antidote uncertainly. How much of this did she put in? She put a little on her finger and touched it to her tongue. It tasted like vanilla.

  OK, she’d skip the vanilla and use the antidote instead. Except a lot more of it.

  “That’s not the antidote, you know.” Marta had come to and obviously managed to spit out the mitt from her mouth. She turned on her side and faced Ella from the floor. Marta’s voice was low and even.

  Ella said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re crazy.”

  Marta chuckled a low, evil chuckle. A knock on the door sounded again, and a voice said from the other side, “Do be a dear and hurry up, will you, Marta?”

  Ella frantically began measuring ingredients. Marta said, “No one will eat your cookies, you know. I could yell and have you put to death right now, but I think I’d rather watch you fail. You don’t have the talent to bake a perfect cookie.” Her laugh made Ella cringe.

  “You aren’t yelling because the Conformity Powder is right here, and your little minions might find that suspicious,” Ella retorted. Still, sweat beaded on Ella’s temples as she whipped her mixture in the bowl. She had no idea if she was right about the powder. And worse, she had no idea if she did have the talent to make the cookies right.

  Marta continued, “I practiced for years to get the right recipe and the right, steady hand to decorate.” Ella continued stirring, adding the antidote liberally to her mixture. Marta winced, as if she’d just felt a sudden pain. Softly, she said, “Don’t you see? After my son . . . took his own life, I had to make sure nothing like that ever happened again!”

  “. . . Took his own life?” Ella gasped.

  Marta’s face streamed with tears. “He was different. Much like that friend of yours. So you see, I had to stop that from ever happening again. After his . . . accident, I traveled all over until I found the perfect combination of mind-altering ingredients.”

  Ella shook her head. “But your son wasn’t wrong; other people were.”

  Marta’s eyes glowed. “Don’t you see? With no differences, no one gets hurt! It’s perfect.”

  Ella stomped over to Marta. She’d had enough of this crazy logic, this cowardice. She leaned down looked Marta directly in the eyes, “Sometimes life is messy,” she said. Then she put the oven mitt over Marta’s mouth and tied it in place with another apron.

  Knocks sounded again. The crowd was getting restless. Ella rolled out the dough and began to cut out shapes with Martha’s cookie cutters. She set the shapes on a cookie sheet, slid it into the oven, and started on the icing.

  For the first time since the cookies appeared, Ella was glad they made people more polite—otherwise they would have broken down the door already. Finally, the oven dinged. Ella took the cookies out and started to decorate.

  The pounding on the door got louder. Sweat trickled down Ella’s back as she squeezed the pastry bag with as steady a hand as she could manage. Each line, each decoration had to be perfect, or the townspeople would know.

  She had six more cookies in this batch to go. Now the pounding on the door was deafening. Ella could hear the angry murmurs: “Crikey, what’s taking so long?” and “Goodness, I would very much like a cookie at this moment.” The people were coming apart—the addiction was taking hold.

  Finally the last cookie was decorated. The next batch was in the oven. It was time to see if the crowd would eat them. Ella grabbed hold of the cookie sheet with the decorated cookies, took a deep breath, and flung open the door.

  The crowd was quiet for a moment; Ella fervently hoped the addiction to the cookies would be enough to stave them off. Ella saw Jasper and her mother standing directly in
front.

  Jasper’s eyes took her in, and Ella smiled hopefully. Jasper turned to the crowd and said, “Kill her!”

  24

  The crowd surged forward.

  “Please wait!” Ella yelled.

  They stopped. This group really is polite, Ella thought.

  Ella stumbled for words. “Uh, Marta is already going to kill me, but as part of my punishment, I have to hand out these cookies first.”

  The crowd mumbled, and Ella saw several people shrug. From the back of the shop, Mayor Wilkins said, “That makes perfect sense. Besides, I could definitely use one of Marta’s cookies about now.”

  Mumbles of agreement went through the crowd. Ella trembled and moved toward Jasper. “Cookie?”

  Jasper leaned over the tray and picked one up. Ella held her breath as he raised it to his mouth. Then he stopped and looked again at the cookies. “Wait a minute,” he said. He looked suspiciously at Ella.

  Ella froze. This was it. She would be murdered by the entire town, and her best friend would be the one to turn her in.

  Jasper moved to the side and then took out his wallet. “I need to pay you.” He brought out a dollar and handed it to her. Then he took a bite of the cookie.

  Ella exhaled and smiled. The rest of the crowd grabbed cookies and handed her change. Soon the batch was gone. Ella heard the ding from the oven that said the next cookies were ready to come out. She ran back to the kitchen and took the second batch out.

  As she took off her oven mitts and got ready to decorate the second batch, she felt that something wasn’t quite right. Turning toward the place where Marta was tied, she noticed two aprons and an oven mitt on the floor. Suddenly, Ella felt a smack against her head and she fell. Stars danced in front of her eyes.

  When her vision cleared, Ella looked up to find Marta standing above her, a cookie sheet in her hands. Her once-perfect hair stood out in clumps, and her bright red face was contorted in an ugly expression. Marta’s eyes blazed at Ella. “You’ve. Ruined. Everything.” She raised the cookie sheet high overhead, and Ella put her hands up to ward off the blow.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ella saw blurry figure streak in. Next thing she knew, the figure had tackled Marta to the floor.

  Jasper’s voice reached Ella’s ears. “Nobody hurts my best friend.”

  Ella’s eyes filled with tears. Jasper was back. Marta got up and grabbed a knife from the counter. Jasper moved to Ella and Ella scrambled up. They held on to each other.

  “You kids have no idea what you’re doing. And you!” Marta jabbed in Jasper’s direction. “All the work I’ve done is for people like you!”

  Jasper arched his eyebrows. “Excuse me? People like me?”

  Ella stepped forward and put herself between Marta and Jasper. “I think she means fabulous, fantastic, flamboyant, and fearless people, Jasper.” Ella turned and smiled at Jasper. “And utterly perfect just the way they are.”

  Suddenly, Marta lunged forward with the knife.

  Pushing Ella aside, Jasper grabbed Marta’s wrist just before the knife could stab Ella.

  He squeezed Marta’s wrist harder with each word: “Stay. Away. From. My. Best. Friend.” Marta’s face contorted in pain, and she dropped the knife.

  Just then, the doors to the kitchen flew open and Ella’s mom ran in. Ella braced herself to defend against her own mother. Her mom’s eyes moved from Ella to Marta to Jasper, then finally to the knife on the floor.

  “What is going on in here?”

  Ella almost burst into tears. That was her mother’s voice—her real mother’s voice. Sara Ruby stepped in front of Jasper and Ella and spoke in a low growl. “You stay away from my daughter. And my honorary son.”

  More people burst through the doors, including Sheriff Brady. His hand hovered near his gun. He looked bewildered. “What’s going on in here?”

  Her face a violent mask, Marta yelled, “Seize them!”

  Sheriff Brady looked at Marta and said, “Now, why would I do that? Perhaps if you calm down, ma’am, we can talk this out.”

  Marta’s eyes went wild and a scream tore through her. She backed up, her eyes blazing and her hair getting wilder and wilder. She laughed maniacally. “Good luck from now on, you foolish town! I tried to offer you my help, but you didn’t take it!” Then she turned on her heels and threw herself out the door.

  Ella thought she’d never get that laugh out of her head.

  25

  Jasper turned to Ella. “The last thing I remember is our fight. And then I come in here and that maniac is standing over you with a cookie sheet. And that dress!”

  Ella just laughed and threw her arms around him. “It’s a long story.”

  “Well, ma chérie, you will be telling me this story right away. But for now, a more important question: Why am I wearing this hideous outfit?!”

  Ella giggled. “That’s part of the story.”

  Ella’s mom walked over to the two of them and gave them a hug. “There must have been a gas leak or something, huh? I feel completely out of it. Who was that awful woman? And did she actually pull a knife on you?” She rubbed her eyes like she had just woken up. Then she looked down at herself. “Oh wow, what am I wearing?”

  Ella stifled more giggling. But then Mayor Wilkins burst through the door. “Excuse me, but I believe many of us would like some cookies out there.” He tipped his head to the side and looked at Ella. “Oh dear. I do believe we must put you to death.”

  Jasper, Sheriff Brady, and Sara Ruby all looked at the mayor with jaws open. Ella sighed, walked over to the mayor, and stuck a cookie in his mouth. “Try this first.”

  Ella’s mom scrunched her eyebrows and looked at Ella. “Let me guess—this is one of those long stories.”

  Ella nodded. “Oh yeah. And I’ll tell you after we finish up making these cookies.”

  26

  Ella snuggled into Jasper on the couch, finishing up the last of the cookies she’d baked. Her mom shifted under the blanket on the chair across the room, finishing off her own cookie.

  “Ella, these cookies were delicious. And I love how you decorated them!”

  Ella smiled. She had made her new signature cookies—Crazy Cookies—with asymmetrical lines and random frosting. Sprinkles intersected with sugar crystals, and white and chocolate frosting swirled together. Each cookie was unique and delicious.

  Jasper licked his fingers. “And you want to go shopping next week? I’m not sure who this new Ella is, but I think I like her.”

  Ella giggled and said, “And I don’t think I’ll clean the baking dishes until tomorrow.”

  Both her mom and Jasper fake-gasped. Her mom said, “I still don’t understand what happened to all of your clothes.”

  Jasper chimed in, “All my clothes disappeared, too. I think a lot of strange things happened during the gas leak. Everyone in town seems like they had something weird happen.”

  Ella licked some frosting off her fingers. She smiled a private smile and said, “Yeah, that gas leak was something.”

  Her mom stood up from her chair. “Well, I for one am glad things are getting back to normal. I don’t know what’s going on lately, but I do know that I’m ready for some stability.”

  Jasper stood up and put the back of his hand to his forehead. He said in his Southernbelle voice, “Why, Ms. Ruby, some normalcy is just what we need, don’t you think?”

  Ella smiled. Yep, she was glad things were back to normal, too. Even if they got a little messy once in a while.

  Everything’s fine in Bridgewater. Really...

  Or is it?

  Look for all the titles from the

  Night Fall collection.

  THE CLUB

  Bored after school, Josh and his friends decide to try out an old board game. The group chuckles at Black Magic’s promises of good fortune. But when their luck starts skyrocketing—and horror strikes their enemies—the game stops being funny. How can Josh stop what he’s unleashed? Answers lie in an old diary—but
ending the game may be deadlier than any curse.

  THE COMBINATION

  Dante only thinks about football. Miranda’s worried about applying to college. Neither one wants to worry about a locker combination too. But they’ll have to learn their combos fast—if they want to survive. Dante discovers that an insane architect designed St. Philomena High, and he’s made the school into a doomsday machine. If too many kids miss their combinations, no one gets out alive.

  FOUL

  Rhino is one of Bridgewater best basketball players— except when it comes to making free throws. It’s not a big deal, until he begins receiving strange threats. If Rhino can’t make his shots at the free throw line, someone will start hurting the people around him. Everyone’s a suspect: a college recruiter, Rhino’s jealous best friend, and the father Rhino never knew—who recently escaped from prison.

  LAST DESSERTS

  Ella loves to practice designs for the bakery she’ll someday own. She’s also one of the few people not to try the cookies and cakes made by a mysterious new baker. Soon the people who ate the baker’s treats start acting oddly, and Ella wonders if the cookies are to blame. Can her baking skills help her save her best friend—and herself?

  THE LATE BUS

  Lamar takes the “late bus” home from school after practice each day. After the bus’s beloved driver passes away, Lamar begins to see strange things—demonic fgures, preparing to attack the bus. Soon he learns the demons are after Mr. Rumble, the freaky new bus driver. Can Lamar rescue his fellow passengers, or will Rumble’s past come back to destroy them all?