by Chris Kreie
“I’m not giving up!” she growled in his face. “I’m not going to let her die!”
Mateo rushed over. “Kristy, it’s okay. Take it easy.”
“Get off me, you psycho!” Carl grunted and rolled her off of him. They both lay panting in the rocks.
“Don’t ever accuse me of giving up on my friend again,” said Kristy. Her voice cracked.
“We all just need to calm down,” said Mateo. “We’ll figure something out. We have to.”
Carl stood up, brushing himself off once again. “You two go ahead with your figuring. I’m going to go do something.” He stomped away from Kristy and Mateo, toward the valley.
“Where do you think you’re going?” shouted Kristy.
“To save our friend,” said Carl.
“By yourself?” shouted Mateo. “What are you planning on doing?”
“Just watch,” he said.
CHAPTER 9
“You’re crazy!” Mateo shouted. “You can’t just march down there!”
Carl had already scrambled partway down the ridge.
“Carl!” yelled Mateo.
Kristy tapped his arm. “Maybe you should stop shouting,” she said. “They might hear you.”
Mateo looked at her. “We have to stop him before they get him too.”
“I don’t think it’s working,” said Kristy.
“Should we go after him?” he asked.
“And then what?” asked Kristy.
Mateo hated feeling so helpless, but Carl had forged his own fate. Like a renegade, not like a team player. Carl is putting us all at risk! Mateo’s thoughts shouted. How does he think he can just walk into the valley, into the middle of eight killer spirits, and save Priya? Is he planning on asking them nicely? Pretty please and thank you, with sugar on top? It seemed like a suicide mission.
Carl stumbled on some loose rocks as the hill became steeper. He barely maintained his footing, but the spirits ignored his clumsy approach.
“He’s going to fall,” said Kristy. “He’s moving too fast.”
“Any idea what he’s going to do once he gets down there?” asked Mateo.
Kristy shrugged. “No clue.”
“I hope he has some kind of plan,” said Mateo.
“Don’t count on it,” she said.
Carl stumbled again, and this time he fell. Hard. Kristy and Mateo gasped as Carl screamed and rolled down the loose gravel hill, turning a couple of rough somersaults before landing in a heap at the bottom of an embankment. “Augh!” he screamed again and reached for his ankle.
“I knew it,” said Kristy. She turned to Mateo. “Now what?”
“We help him.” Mateo walked back toward the edge of the cliff. “What else?”
“Hold on!” Kristy ran up to him. “Look!”
Mateo stopped and looked into the valley. The spirits were frozen, no longer oblivious to the intruder in their midst. They must have heard Carl, and now each and every one of them was looking in his direction.
“Carl!” Mateo yelled. “Get out of there!”
“Carl!” screamed Kristy.
Carl didn’t need their warnings. He had already seen the spirits—and now they were moving straight toward him.
“I can’t watch!” said Kristy.
“Get down,” said Mateo. They both went to the ground, lying on their stomachs. No need to risk being seen themselves. They kept their eyes on Carl. “I feel like we should do something.”
“What can we do?” said Kristy.
The eight spirits darted over to Carl. He scratched and clawed his way a few feet up the cliff, but with his injured ankle, it was no use. “Mateo! Help!”
“This is horrible,” said Mateo. “I need to help him.” He tried getting up, but Kristy pulled him back down.
“You go down there and the same thing that happened to Priya, the same thing that’s about to happen to Carl, will happen to you,” she said. “You’re smarter than that.”
“But how can you just—” Another noise interrupted Mateo’s question, the same awful moaning they had heard when the spirit entered Priya’s body. A white spirit hovered above Carl, now lying slack on the ground, and then morphed into a long plume of smoke and buried itself in Carl’s body.
CHAPTER 10
“How could we let that happen?” asked Mateo as Carl’s body floated with an escort of spirits toward Priya’s resting place. His body settled into the tall grass next to hers. The spirits resumed their dance.
“What were we supposed to do?” asked Kristy. “Carl made it next to impossible for us to help him. If you had run down there to save him, you probably would’ve tripped too. And now you’d be lying in the grass with the two of them and I’d be up here all by myself.” She grabbed his shoulder. “Carl made a mistake. We can’t do the same thing. We can’t afford to. Our friends’ lives are in our hands, and what we need to do now is put all our energy into thinking of a way to save Priya and Carl.”
Mateo nodded. “You’re right.” He looked at her and shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. “But what the heck can we do? Look at the moon. It’s almost time.”
Kristy looked and nodded. “You’re right. But we’re going to think of something. We have to. They’re depending on us.”
“Okay, then,” said Mateo. “Let’s think.”
They sat in silence for a minute.
“Well,” said Kristy. “It’s too late to find help.”
“For sure,” said Mateo. “And we don’t have a way to call anybody.”
“That’s right,” said Kristy.
“So it’s definitely up to us,” said Mateo. The sky was getting darker. Stars twinkled above them.
“What about this?” said Mateo. “We create a fire. We start it in just the right place so that the smoke rises up and blocks the moonlight from hitting their faces.”
“You have a match?” asked Kristy.
“Nope.” Mateo shook his head.
“You know how to start a fire without one?”
“Nope,” said Mateo.
They sat in the quiet some more.
“I’ve got it,” said Kristy. “We wait up here for the blood moon. A few minutes before it happens we go down into that valley—more cautiously than Carl—and we snatch their bodies. We pull them under the shade of the trees and prevent the moonlight from hitting their faces.”
Mateo scratched his head.
“I know,” she said. “Stupid idea. The spirits will see us before we have a chance to get to them, and they’ll just turn us into zombies when they do.”
Mateo looked away. He thought back to Carl, crashing down the hill, screaming in pain, and what the spirits had done right after that. “Wait a second,” he said. “Wait a second. Your plan’s not half-bad.”
“What?”
“You said the spirits will see us,” said Mateo. “But the spirits didn’t see Carl. Not until he fell and screamed, right?”
“Right,” said Kristy.
“They heard him fall, then they saw him,” said Mateo. “It was his scream that alerted them, then they went to him. And how many of them did that?”
“All of them,” she said. “What’s your point?”
“When the spirits saw Carl—” said Mateo.
“They all left.” Kristy interrupted. She got it. “They all left their spot in the meadow. They all flew over to Carl. Not one of them stayed behind with Priya.”
“That’s right,” said Mateo. “So your plan is a pretty good one.”
“It is?” she asked.
“With just a couple adjustments,” said Mateo. He put his hands on Kristy’s shoulders and looked her square in the eye. “Let me explain.”
CHAPTER 11
Mateo waited on the ridge, his back to a boulder and his knees tucked up to his chest. By now Kristy had hopefully crawled down the side of the canyon and hidden herself among the trees at the edge of the meadow.
That next step would have to wait just a little longer. The timing had to
be perfect or the whole thing would crash and burn.
Mateo looked at the stars. They reminded him of his dad. On clear nights like this, when Mateo was younger, his dad would take him into the country. They’d find a place in the middle of nowhere, far away from the city lights, and watch the shimmering stars for hours. Neither of them had ever learned the names of any of the constellations or the locations of the planets, but they both loved the night. His dad said stargazing was one of the only fond memories he had of his years working the fields up and down the California valleys. After working a twelve- or fourteen-hour day, he and Mateo’s mom would hold each other under the big California sky, dream of better days, and forget for a few minutes that tomorrow would bring another shift of backbreaking day labor.
My parents have given their lives for me, Mateo thought. Every choice they’ve made has been about helping me have a better life, a different life from theirs. Why has it taken me so long to finally figure that out? Mateo thought back to the arguments he’d had with his dad over the years, arguments about dumb things like drinking milk directly from the carton or how he would refuse to take his ball cap off when they ate at nice restaurants. How he’d get annoyed when his mom wanted him to help her put the groceries away or take out the trash. I’ve been so stupid, so disrespectful. It’s time I grow up and show my parents how much I appreciate what they’re doing to help me. When they were my age they were sneaking across the California border, unsure if they’d make it into this country alive, uncertain where they’d find their next meal or where they’d sleep for the night. I spend my days angry if there aren’t enough chips in the house. If I disappear tonight, what will they think? They’ll remember me starting arguments over dumb things.
But I can fix it now, he thought. If I get out of this alive, I can tell Mom and Dad how much they mean to me and how proud I am to be their son. They deserve better than how I’ve treated them these past few years.
He suddenly pictured his parents as teenagers, crossing the US border with their families, cowering together under the cover of darkness. His mom had told him stories about seeing guards in the distance with automatic weapons strapped to their bodies. She had held her breath for minutes at a time, worried that the sound of her breathing would give them away. Mom and Dad are the most courageous people I know. If they had the guts to make the dangerous journey to America, I can certainly do what’s necessary to save my friends.
Mateo turned and looked behind him. The moon was barely more than a sliver. Below him the spirits, the jet-black ones, the brilliant-white ones, and the steel-gray ones, still wove their bizarre circle above Carl and Priya. The more he watched their beguiling dance, the more the spirits seemed as normal as the trees or the tall grass or the rocky slope around them.
Their plan had to work. It had to. If it didn’t, then what? Carl and Priya would be gone forever, and he and Kristy would have to explain what had happened to them. If they mentioned ghost trucks and dancing spirits and abductions, they’d both end up in some funny farm. If they didn’t mention those things, people would have no choice but to think they murdered Carl and Priya. It would be just like the girl from Sleepy Cove who went missing. Her friends weren’t thrown into jail for murder, but maybe he and Kristy would be. Maybe the trial would mean Cal Poly wouldn’t let him in. Maybe they’d get convicted and go to prison for a very long time. Who knows? Maybe they’d be locked up forever.
He shook his head. Stop thinking that way, he said to himself. First of all, you’re going to save Priya and Carl. Second of all, if for some reason your plan fails and the worst happens, you should be thinking about your friends and not yourself. They are the ones who will have the truly horrific future.
Mateo shivered and hugged himself in the cold. He had given his jacket to Kristy. All part of the plan. He hoped she was going to be okay. He didn’t worry about her navigating her way down the rock face. She was a natural-born climber. He was sure she was at the bottom by now. But he worried about whether she’d stay safe during what was about to happen next.
Kristy really stepped up, thought Mateo. She was so scared earlier, scared enough that I thought she’d just lost it. But ever since they had fixed their minds on rescuing Priya, ever since their backs had been thrown hard up against the wall, she had stepped up. When Mateo told her his plan involved them splitting up and her going into the valley to face the spirits by herself, at least at first, he wondered if that would be too much for her. But it wasn’t. She was down with it, ready to do this crazy thing Mateo thought might work. Kristy’s strength and courage during this wild, eerie night surpassed his own. The two of them had agreed on their final actions, hugged, and somewhat reluctantly said their good-byes.
Mateo looked into the sky behind him once again. The blood moon was just minutes away. If he acted too early, Kristy might not be ready and the plan could be a complete bust. If he waited too long, the crimson glow would shine on the faces of his friends and it would all be over. His timing had to be just right.
He stared at the moon. He could see the last bit of yellow disappearing before his eyes. Smaller and smaller the moon shrank away. The night was growing darker. You need to wait, he told himself. Wait. Just a few more seconds. His heart was pumping. Clouds of white steam burst from his mouth in an even rhythm. Wait. Wait. A little bit longer. Just like a race. Wait for that starting gun to go off. Take off too soon and you’ll be disqualified. Wait too long and you’ll be behind the pack.
One last look. Okay. This is it. Ten seconds. Five. Mateo closed his eyes, took two last deep breaths. “Here we go,” he said to himself. “Kristy, I hope you’re ready.”
Mateo jumped to his feet. “Hey, you freaks!” he shouted into the valley. It was the shout of his life, the loudest one he had ever made. “Up here! Up here, you freaks! Leave my friends alone and come and get me! Let’s see how tough you are now. Come on, freaks! Come and get me!”
The spirits turned toward him. He could feel the power of their combined stare as a gust of wind blew through him. He whispered, “That’s it, you weirdos. That’s it. Now come and get me.”
“Up here!” he shouted and waved his arms in the air. “What are you waiting for? Come and get me!” He lobbed some rocks at them for good measure.
Suddenly, the spirits were on the move, heading straight toward him. “Crap,” he said. “It’s working. Okay, here we go.”
He took one last look into the valley. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a dark shape sprint from the trees and toward the torches. He hoped with every last hope that it was Kristy.
Mateo took off running, away from the valley. He darted around trees and up and over rocks. His strides were long. He channeled the cross-country speedster still inside him and thought back to his countless races through pristine, green golf courses and along rugged, wooded paths. He let out a short laugh. There’s a difference, though. A big difference. Instead of being followed by competitors from other teams who want to take the first-place medal from me, I’m being pursued by creatures who want to steal my soul. He couldn’t help but see a little humor in it.
Mateo ran. He ran hard and fast. He felt alive, relaxed, his legs pushing his body forward, his arms pumping, his lungs expanding to suck in every last ounce of life-giving air. Running had always worked to calm him down. Why in the world did I ever quit? he wondered. Was it really because I wanted more time to work on the jeep, or did it have more to do with Dad? Was it just some ridiculous act of rebellion to show Dad I’m a grown-up who can make his own decisions? Is that possible? He thought so. That was it. Wow, what an idiot. He had stopped running because he knew it would have an effect on his dad. I’m such a jerk.
He made another quick deal with himself. Survive this night and you’re rejoining the team. End of story.
His thoughts flashed back to the business at hand. He let out another loud shout. “This way, you animals!” He had to make sure he didn’t lose the spirits in the trees. They needed to follow him deep in
to the woods and far away from his friends. “Come and get me, freaks!”
He glanced over his shoulder. No need to worry about losing them. The spirits were right there. Man, they’re quick. He wished he could stop and count them, to make sure each and every spirit was there and that none had stayed behind with Priya and Carl. The success of their plan rested on that extremely crucial detail.
The air around him suddenly became frigid, like he had been magically transported to an ice sheet at the South Pole. His fingers and toes froze up. An instant later he glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye. The spirits had caught up to him. His run was over. Two black spirits floated down in front of him to cut off his path. Mateo stopped. Up close, they were big—bigger than he’d realized. From the bottom of their robes to the top of their hoods, the spirits were eight feet tall at least. Mateo turned. Two grayish spirits were directly behind him. The rest closed in on him from the other directions. He did a quick count. Seven. That was all of them.
Slowly and gracefully, a bright white spirit floated up and over him. Mateo looked into its eyes. They were dark sockets, deep voids sunk into the shadows of the smoky skull. The face was mesmerizing. In a way, beautiful. Mateo couldn’t take his eyes off it. It drifted and floated in the breeze, constantly shifting shapes. Mateo felt a warmth go through him, a calmness, a happiness. All his worries seemed to wash away. His body felt light. Nothing mattered. He forgot where he was and why. He was completely at peace.
But something pulled him back. The white spirit began to take on a reddish glow. It broke from Mateo’s gaze and turned its face to the moon.
Mateo snapped from his trance. Everything came rushing back. “The blood moon,” he said out loud. “It must be starting.”
The white spirit let out its mind-shattering shriek. Mateo dropped to his knees and protected his ears from the noise as the rest of the spirits joined in. The sound was haunting. Deafening. Awful. He looked up to see the clustered spirits staring at the moon. They seemed distressed, as if they knew something was terribly wrong. Mateo remembered to keep his own face out of the moonlight. “Don’t look at it,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t look.”