by Jeff Sampson
At the end of a dead-end street was where we found Evan’s house.
The place was sort of half-assedly gothic, with a wrought-iron fence surrounding the front yard, which had a weed-strewn stone path alongside which grew tall, spindly trees. Behind the house were towering evergreens, reminding me of home.
Mrs. Cooke pulled the car into a stop at the curb. The Cookes were going to wait for us to get inside, then follow, since Maureen would recognize them, so only Amy and I stepped out into the misty, cool air. I zipped up my jacket and shoved my hands in my pockets.
There was a a basic four-door car in the driveway, and though the curtains were all closed I could see a light on in the window next to the front door. Someone was home.
“After you,” Amy said, gesturing me forward.
“Of course,” I said.
I shoved the iron gate, which opened with squeaking hinges. Sneakers squelching in wet grass, I walked half on and half off the stone pathway to the front door, Amy behind me. Once we were all gathered on the porch, I took a breath and rang the doorbell.
We stood there, shivering in the wet and cold for what felt like a full minute.
No one answered.
I raised a finger and rang again.
A twitch of fabric out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over just in time to see someone peeking through the curtains. I leaned back so whoever it was could see me, and raised a hand in greeting.
The curtain snapped shut. A second later, I heard the deadbolt on the door turn, and then the door opened.
The person who answered was a short, slender woman with frizzy gold-red hair. She peered out the half-open doorway.
There was something strange about her eyes. Something manic.
“Yeah?” she asked.
Her voice was deeper, gruffer than I’d expected.
“Hi!” I said, doing my best to sound chipper. “I’m a friend of Evan’s. From school. I was wondering, is he home?”
The woman didn’t say anything for a moment. She just looked me up and down.
“A girl,” she said. “You have nice hair and teeth.”
“Uh, thanks.”
The woman gestured at Amy with her chin. “And her?”
“Just another friend,” Amy drawled. “And my teeth better be fine. I had to wear braces.”
The woman barked a laugh. There was something off about her for sure. Almost as if she was on some drug or drunk on all the boxed wine the corner store had on sale.
“So…Evan?” I asked.
The woman shook her head. “He’s busy today. It’s a big day for us.”
I tilted my head and blinked my eyes, trying to look innocent. “Are you sure? Maybe—”
“Oh. My. God.” Amy tilted her head back and sighed loudly. “I’m done.”
Before I could make a move, she flicked her hand and the door flew open. Startled, the woman wheeled backward into her living room. Without wasting a second, Amy shoved past me into the living room, and I followed. Behind me, I heard the car doors open and shut as the Cookes rushed out.
“Holy crap,” Amy said, stopping a few feet into the living room.
I couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment.
The living room would have felt homey, cozy, with plush carpet and new furniture. That is, if every flat surface wasn’t covered with flickering candles. And if there wasn’t a horrific painting of a naked, very hairy man with a wolf head set atop an easel.
Oh and mustn’t forget the pile of tiny, bleached white bones beneath the painting.
“Get out!” the woman screamed, clenching her hands like claws. Only now that I got a full look at her could I tell she was wearing a homemade black robe trimmed in gold.
“The ritual must be performed!” she shouted, stepping menacingly forward. “It must happen today!”
A gasp behind us. Amy and I both turned to find the Cookes standing in the doorway, Mrs. Cooke with her hand over her mouth.
“Maureen,” Mr. Cooke said, taking in the room, bewildered. “What are you doing?”
Eyes wide, Maureen’s whole body began to tremble. She pointed a finger at Mr. Cooke and said, “You. Why have you come? It’s too late to be blessed by the Akhakhu now, Marshall! You turned your back on them after you convinced my husband to leave me! Only the faithful will be saved today!”
Lowering her hand from her mouth, Mrs. Cooke shook her head slowly. “Maureen, you’re ill. You need help.”
“Lies!” Maureen screamed.
Mr. Cooke raised his hands and stepped carefully toward the raging woman as though she were a feral dog. “It will be okay, Maureen. We’re just here for Evan. He asked us for help. That’s why his friends are here, too.”
The woman’s eyes darted to me and Amy. “My boy would never,” she said, aghast. “He knows how important this is. How special he is. We made him in the Akhakhu’s image to lead our people into the new future.” She pointed at Mrs. Cooke now. “Don’t you call me crazy again, Julie! You were both there! You all saw what I saw and know what I know! This is not irrational. This is the only thing that is rational!”
“Maureen,” Mr. Cooke said.
“Don’t you take another step,” the woman said, reaching behind her.
“Where’s Evan?” Mr. Cooke said as he stepped forward.
It happened so fast that neither Amy nor I could react.
Maureen’s hand, the one she’d put behind her, shot up high in the air. Clenched in her fist was a hunting knife.
Screaming, she lunged forward.
And plunged the blade into Mr. Cooke’s shoulder.
Startled, he couldn’t even say anything. He tripped over a coffee table and fell backward, scattering candles. With a wail, Mrs. Cooke dove to his side, even as the couch behind the coffee table caught on fire.
Amy and I moved.
I slipped effortlessly into Nighttime. A blur, I darted forward, grabbed Maureen by both of her wrists, then yanked her arms behind her. She cried out and arched her back, but she couldn’t escape my grip.
Amy meanwhile spun, flicked a hand at the door to slam it shut, then waved another hand. The air in the room swirled, a sudden gust of wind, and all of the candles extinguished. Another flick of Amy’s hands and the lights came on.
“Vespers,” Maureen gasped. “Oh, more vespers, here! Glorious day!”
“Shut up,” I spat, still standing behind her and holding her wrists. “Mr. Cooke, are you okay?”
Mrs. Cooke crouched next to him, examining the wound and brushing his hair. Her husband clenched his jaw, struggling to hold back whimpers.
“It’s okay,” Mrs. Cooke pronounced. “It’s just a flesh wound, all right, honey? Just a flesh wound.”
“We have to call an ambulance,” Amy said, spinning around to look for a phone.
“No!” Mr. Cooke shouted, then winced. “Not yet. They can’t get here before you find Evan and leave.”
Her eyes frantic, Mrs. Cooke looked up at me. “Hurry.”
Amy ran to a hall closet, then returned a second later with a length of extension cord. The two of us tied Maureen to a chair in her dining room as quickly as we could.
“Where’s Evan?” Amy demanded as she bound the woman’s feet to the chair legs.
“So many vespers,” the woman said wistfully. “They’ll be so pleased.”
“Hey!” I said, then shook the chair. “Evan. We need him. We vespers, uh, we need to be close to him for the ritual.”
“Oh!” Maureen exclaimed. “Of course you do.” She jerked her head behind her. “He’s in the basement.”
I turned around to look where she’d pointed. The dining room was at the base of a set of stairs leading up to the second story, and across from the foot of those stairs was a doorway.
“Come on,” I said to Amy as soon as I was sure Maureen wasn’t going anywhere.
The two of us dashed around the table. I reached the door first and yanked it open. Deep in the bowels of the basement, orange light fli
ckered.
We rushed down the wooden steps, me in the lead and Amy behind. Seconds later we were standing on the concrete floor, gaping.
In the center of the room was a man-size wooden slab. Surrounding the base of it were more candles like upstairs, arranged in strange swirling patterns that reminded me of fractals I’d seen in math books.
And held to the front of the slab by leather straps beneath his shoulders and at his wrists and ankles, was a pale, naked boy wearing an elaborate golden mask in the shape of a wolf.
“Evan,” I said. Then, running toward him, I shouted louder, “Evan!”
The boy stirred as I reached the slab and began fumbling with the straps on his wrists. Amy went to the other side of him and did the same, unsnapping his wrists before leaning down to free his ankle.
As soon as both his hands were free, the boy reached up and shoved off the mask. It clattered against the concrete floor. Gasping for air and looking wildly between us with wide, bright blue eyes was Evan Cooke.
The last member of my pack.
“Oh, thank God!” he gasped as he wriggled free of the straps that went under his armpits. “Emily, I’m so, so glad you’re here. I can’t believe you came all this way! I don’t know what my mother did to me, but she was screaming all sorts of crazy stuff about it being time, and then she started chasing me with a needle and…” He glanced down. “Oh my God, I’m naked.”
“Here,” Amy said, tossing him a pile of wrinkled clothes she’d found next to the slab. “I’m guessing these are yours.” She smirked. “And don’t worry, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, trust me.”
The boy’s cheeks went red. “Oh God.” He scurried around the other side of the slab and proceeded to dress.
“Your mother’s gone wacko,” Amy said, pacing impatiently as we waited. “She stabbed your uncle, so we need to hurry.”
Buttoning his jeans, Evan popped out from behind the slab, gaping. “She did what? Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “But we need to get out before the ambulance comes, okay?”
He stood there, stricken and tiny looking. He was shorter than I expected. Not Spencer short, but with his slender frame and tousled hair, he seemed young, innocent. My wolf side ached to protect him.
“Where will I go?” he asked softly.
“That’s the question of the day,” Amy asked. Looking pointedly at me, she said, “Come on.”
I hated not giving the kid a moment to catch his bearings. But Amy was right. There wasn’t any time to waste.
The three of us bounded up the basement steps to find the dining room and living room as we’d left it. As soon as we rounded the table and rushed past Maureen, who rocked in her chair silently glaring, Mrs. Cooke jumped to her feet.
“Oh my,” she said. Her lip trembled and her eyes glistened. “Evan. You’re so big.”
“Auntie Julie,” he said. He ran forward and grabbed the woman into a hug. The two of them stood there, holding each other and rocking back and forth.
“My own son,” Maureen said. “Betraying me.”
Evan let go of his aunt and turned to glare back at his mother. “You knock me out, strip me naked, and tie me to a big piece of wood and I’m the one betraying you?” He shook his head, anger in his eyes. “Just…shut up, Mom.”
“Here,” Mrs. Cooke said, coming forward and putting her car keys into Amy’s hands. “You three need to get out of here. Go find your friends and try to bring these bastards down.”
“Oh, we will,” Amy said, holding the keys up and jingling them.
I nodded at Mrs. Cooke. “Thanks,” I said. “For all the help.”
“It’s the least I could do after all we did.” She went back to her husband, still lying on the coffee table. His eyes were closed and he grimaced. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Get him help,” I said, grabbing her arm reassuringly. “He’ll be okay. We’ll all be okay.”
While Evan put on his shoes, he directed Mrs. Cooke to the landline. Amy and I waited by the door, ready to run to the car as soon as Evan was done.
Before we could leave that house of crazy for good, Maureen stopped struggling in her chair and looked directly into my eyes.
“Thank you for all you’ve done, Emily,” she said, her tone flat, cold. “Those who have devoted themselves to the Akhakhu will ascend because of your actions, you’ll see. You are a true prophet.”
More mutterings from the mind of a woman who’d apparently been pulled into some freaky, alien-obsessed cult.
But that didn’t stop the chill that gripped my spine.
17
IT’S TIME TO MOVE ON
Not even a three-hour car ride feels like a breather after the dose of insanity we’d gotten at Evan’s house.
I couldn’t believe that it was the same day we’d stormed out of BioZenith in a blaze of glory. It felt like ages ago. And I could barely believe that the day wasn’t done.
Of course, we still had a company to destroy.
After the cursory reintroductions—Amy and Evan remembered each other better from elementary school than either did me, what with my lifelong invisibility and all—I took a deep breath and told our story. I laid out everything that happened since last we talked, ending with the big escape we’d pulled off—and our plans to go back.
“Do you think you’re up for it?” I asked him when I finished. “I mean, I know you just went through a lot.”
“He has to be up for it,” Amy said, steering the car expertly north on the freeway. “You can…slip between the dimensions or whatever, right? You’re the only one who can go through and get Dalton and come back. So you have to go.”
Mouth agape, Evan looked between me sitting next to him in the backseat and Amy up front.
“I don’t want to force you into anything,” I quickly added. “But these people are just like your mom. They want to help the Akhakhu come and possess us all.”
Evan sat there, quiet, thinking. He was exactly as he looked on cam: angled features, blond hair, slender build. The biggest differences were his exhausted eyes and that the hair on the back of his head stuck up, disheveled. His blue windbreaker, zipped up to his throat, was also a wrinkled mess.
But even though he was probably only a few months younger than me, I couldn’t erase the feeling I’d also gotten in the basement. Motherly. Protective.
“So how about it?” Amy asked after Evan didn’t answer. “What do you say, big guy?”
“Uh, yeah,” he said. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. “If it’ll stop those things on the other side, then yeah. I’ll help.”
Amy glanced back and winked. “I always knew you would.”
It was fully dark by the time the freeway arced toward Skopamish. The lights of the small city glittered through the ever-present trees.
We drove to the Cookes’ house first, but the silver Lexus wasn’t there. Worry nibbled at the back of my head, but I refused to let it take over. The cheerleaders had said they’d go their parents’ house if need be.
The car wasn’t at Nikki’s house either. I held my breath when we turned down the street on which the Delgados lived.
And let out a sigh of relief when I saw Casey in the driveway, leaning against Mr. Cooke’s car, as though waiting for us.
Amy pulled partway into the driveway, then rolled down the window. Casey ran over and leaned in.
“Is everything cool?” Amy asked, her voice hushed.
Casey grinned, nodding at Evan and me in the backseat. “Yeah, we’re doing great. We were hoping you’d meet up with us before we went to BioZenith.” She waved at the backseat. “Hi, Evan! You look really good.”
Blushing, he ducked his head. “Thanks…uh, Brittany?”
Casey shook her head. “The third one.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said. “Casey. You’re more outspoken than I remembered.”
Hell, she was more outspoken than I remembered from only half a day earlier.
Amy
turned off the engine, then looked back at me. “So what now, Alpha? Should we head to the rendezvous and get ready for our big attack?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I had you guys come back to scout out a tablet for a reason. I need to sneak back into my room and grab those files we stole. We’re going to need them with us to figure out how to actually take apart that portal thing.”
“All right,” Amy said, already opening her door. “So you want the car?”
I climbed out and slammed the door shut behind me. I heard Evan do the same on the other side.
“I’d love to,” I said. “But I, uh, can’t drive. Besides, we can’t risk someone seeing me pull up. They may be scoping out the place waiting for me to arrive.”
“So we’re sticking to the same timetable then,” Amy said. “We meet up at ten. If you’re not there, go in without you.”
“Exactly.”
Casey tugged her sister’s arm, trying to drag her away from the car and into the house. “Come on, Amy. We need to talk to Mom and Daddy before this all happens.”
Amy yanked her arm free. “Yeah, Casey, fine,” she said, scowling. “Why are you acting so weird?” Her expression softening, she nodded at Evan. “You coming?”
Head ducked, Evan came to stand next to me.
“Maybe I can go with you?” he asked me. Before I could answer, more words rushed out. “It’s just I think I’ll feel safer with you for some reason. I can’t explain it.”
Amy raised her eyebrows at me.
I nodded to her and Casey. “You two go,” I said. “Make sure everyone stays on track, okay, Amy?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”
“All right, Evan,” I said as the two cheerleaders walked up the driveway toward the front door. “Looks like it’s you and me.”
“Sorry,” he said again. “I know I must seem like a giant wimp. It’s just, you and Amy are the only ones I’ve talked to so far, and Amy seems kind of…intense.”
I laughed. “That’s one word for her.” We watched as the two sisters disappeared inside the house.