Children of the Dark

by Jonathan Janz

  I heard shouting behind me. I whirled and discovered that the situation with the Ralstons had changed. Mrs. Ralston was safe, at least for the time being. But somehow her husband and Juan had ended up on the grassy shoulder doing battle with the beast. Juan was swinging the crowbar at the creature to keep it at arm’s length, and Dr. Ralston was circling it gamely, but from the thing’s expression I could see this was merely sport for it. Whenever it wanted, it would slaughter these two men and return its attentions to Mrs. Ralston.

  A large rock sailed out of nowhere and collided with the beast’s forehead.

  We all turned and saw Chris coming out of his pitching motion. Unable to help myself, I grinned at the intense look in his eyes. He could throw a hell of a fastball.

  The thing teetered for several seconds, looking like it might lose consciousness. But then its vision seemed to clear, and it turned and roared at Chris.

  The sound chilled my blood.

  A car engine revved. I thought it was the old man’s car, but no, his yellow Cadillac was still idling.

  Then I realized whose car it was.

  Mrs. Ralston was escaping.

  Had I not seen the black car pulling a U-turn I wouldn’t have believed it. But it was, and within seconds she’d be motoring toward town while the people who’d fought valiantly to save her would probably be creature food. As her car swung lazily into the other lane, the colossal beast who’d killed both Cavanaugh and Perlman pushed away from Perlman’s car and strode toward Mrs. Ralston’s. Her car began to accelerate, but the creature leapt through the open passenger’s window. The car veered toward Perlman’s Audi, rear-ended it. After a brief tussle, the creature managed to haul Mrs. Ralston out of the car. She screamed and screamed. Her husband, apparently not bothered by the fact that his wife had just attempted to abandon him, began sprinting over to intervene.

  He needn’t have bothered.

  Evidently annoyed by Mrs. Ralston’s shrill screams, the giant beast picked her up by an ankle, lifted her above its head, and whip-cracked her to the asphalt. If a broken neck didn’t kill her, the trauma to her head did. The creature hoisted her over its shoulder and lugged her toward the forest.

  Dr. Ralston gave chase.

  “She’s dead!” I yelled. “Don’t get yourself—”

  The creature spun and punched a hand through Dr. Ralston’s chest.

  I moaned. Poor Rebecca, I thought. She’d lost her little sister a few years ago, and now both her parents were dead too.

  Juan hollered something, drawing my attention. The creature Chris had plunked with the rock was looming over Juan. Juan was still waving the crowbar back and forth to ward it off, but I could see he was tiring. Soon the thing would simply snatch it from his grip and impale him with it.

  Chris moved to the creature’s right, hefted another rock. The creature abandoned Juan and faced Chris, who shot me a meaningful look.

  The monster’s back was to me.

  I jolted, realizing that Chris was creating a diversion.

  As stealthily as possible, I hustled up behind the beast, praying it wouldn’t turn and see me. I closed the distance to fifteen feet. To ten.

  Five feet away, I brought the crowbar up, the chisel end facing the beast.

  Baring my teeth, I plunged the iron blade into the creature’s back, right where I believed the heart would be.

  My momentum carried me into it. We fell together, and for a revolting moment I lay atop the beast, its foul stench enveloping me and its black blood spraying over my hands and wrists. With a gagging cry, I scrambled away. The thing rolled over. Chris took my place, the big rock still in his hand. He slammed the rock down with all his might, the thing’s forehead imploding. Chris smashed its face again and again, obviously taking no chances. Black ichor spurted all over Chris’s chest and throat, but Chris kept hammering at it.

  “I think it’s dead,” a voice said.

  We turned and saw Juan smiling crookedly at us.

  He nodded at me. “You sure got him good, didn’t you?”

  I began to smile. Then I saw three figures materialize behind him. The ones who’d overturned the truck and feasted on Larry.

  Juan’s smile slid off his face; he turned toward the creatures.

  One of them leaped forward like a white panther and slammed him into a mud puddle. Chris and I would’ve saved him if we could have, but the beast’s hellish claws were already a blur of motion, scraps of the man’s shirt and flesh flying into the air like bloodstained confetti.

  The other two creatures stalked toward me and Chris.

  “Should we run?” Chris muttered.

  “Run where?” I demanded.

  There truly was nowhere to go. The road ahead was blocked by the constantly spitting electrical wires. If we took refuge in the forest, the creatures would chase us down within seconds.

  The monsters were closing in.

  Chris seized my arm, damn near making me piss myself in surprise.

  “What?” I demanded, my heart slamming.

  “Cavanaugh’s gun,” he said.

  I glanced toward where he was pointing and saw it lying on the puddled asphalt. Maybe it was too wet to still work, but it was the only chance we had.

  I nodded. “I’ll draw them. You grab the gun.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m faster than you,” I said.

  “You’re not faster than them,” he answered.

  They drew closer.

  “Will…” he said, “…don’t…”

  But I was already off, darting toward the retaining wall, thinking I could get past them and make them turn their backs to Chris. But I’d underestimated how long the creatures’ arms were, how crisp their reflexes. The beast on my left nearly snatched me off the ground with its long reach. The one on the right went for me too, but this beast was cleverer. The thing immediately headed me off, forcing me back toward its partner. As they bore down on me, I was sure I was a goner. Whether Chris retrieved the gun no longer mattered. All that mattered was that two monsters were closing in on me, and I was rapidly running out of space.

  The nearest creature groped for me. I dove straight for the gap between its legs, remembering how mad Coach Aldrich got at me whenever I attempted a headfirst slide. It was dangerous, Coach always claimed, and maybe he was right.

  But breaking a wrist was a hell of a lot less dangerous than being eaten alive by monsters.

  The wet asphalt actually saved me. I hit the road and slid smoothly over the moist black surface for a good seven feet, which proved just far enough to elude the beast’s swiping talons. I leaped to my feet and pounded toward the overturned utility truck. Maybe, I reasoned, the wildly coiling wires could save me from the beasts. If the creatures valued self-preservation—and if they understood the risks of the severed electrical lines—they wouldn’t follow me. But that was too many ifs for me, especially when our lives depended on it.

  One of the beasts grabbed me, slammed me to the ground.

  The force was more than enough to knock my wind out, but it hadn’t been a killing maneuver.

  The beasts wanted me alive.

  They loomed over me, their mandibles dripping with slaver, their lantern eyes alight with lunatic hunger.

  They reached for me.

  A shot rang out.

  It didn’t hit either of them. I could see that easily enough from their expressions. But the gunshot made them turn. I lifted my aching head and discovered two things at once:

  Chris, waving his arms at me.

  And the yellow Cadillac.

  It was about to run me and the creatures over.

  “Roll!” Chris was bellowing.

  At the last second, I understood. I rolled to my right.

  And found myself between two writhing electrical wires.

  I looked up as the yellow car lurched forward, the old man hunched behind the wheel like the world’s oldest NASCAR driver.

  Both creatures leapt into the air. I thought for sure
they’d clear the Cadillac. One creature did clear it, rising higher and higher into the air, moving like no living thing should move.

  But the other one’s feet didn’t quite clear the windshield before the car slammed into them. The beast swung wildly over in a graceless flip, and when it struck the wet road behind the Cadillac, I heard something snap.

  A moment later, the creature who’d avoided the car landed near his maimed partner.

  Another gunshot sounded.

  The creature on its feet described an awkward pirouette and grasped its shoulder. Chris strode forward, closing one eye to aim. The injured creature made it to all fours, but collapsed again, both its legs seemingly broken.

  Chris shot the healthier one again, this time nailing it in the belly. Its body jackknifed, the black liquid spilling out of its stomach like crude oil.

  Chris moved closer, squeezed the trigger.

  Nothing.

  The creature looked up at Chris and grinned.

  Chris’s eyes widened. Then he dove toward me.

  The yellow Cadillac slammed into both creatures in reverse, the big car steamrolling them in a hail of squeals and snapped bones.

  Beside each other on the ground, Chris and I stared at the yellow car in shock.

  The old man rolled down his window.

  “You boys get in,” he said. His voice was kindly, but his eyes were fierce.

  I shook my head. “Thanks, but my sister’s in the Hollow.”

  A dark crease formed between the man’s eyebrows, as if he couldn’t believe my stupidity. He turned to Chris. “And you?”

  Chris shrugged and nodded at me. “I’m with him.”

  I figured the old man would chew us out then, or at least protest and call us fools. But instead he smiled sadly and said, “You two have big balls. I hope they don’t get you killed.”

  And he drove away.

  Chris and I watched after him.

  “Where’d your dad go?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Probably dead.”

  “Or he ran.”

  “Wouldn’t put it past him. The asshole.”

  I frowned at him a moment, said, “Let’s get my sister.”

  “If they don’t get us first,” Chris answered.

  I followed his gaze toward the road.

  Where one of the creatures who’d been run down was already stirring.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  Together, we clambered over the retaining wall and began chugging up the slope into Savage Hollow.

  PART FOUR

  SAVAGE HOLLOW

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Caves and the Worst Moment of My Life

  Chris and I scrambled up the steep, muddy incline for several minutes. Then we heard voices. I thought it was Mr. Watkins at first, but these voices were too youthful to be his.

  We crested the ridge, bulled through a tangle of shrubs, and beheld four figures arguing in a clearing.

  Mia, Rebecca, Brad, and Kurt.

  My first emotion was relief that Mia was alive. Ever since the Eric-thing had told us he’d sent these four into the forest, I’d been fretting about her. She had her back to me, but I could see she was safe and healthy, though she was obviously worked up about something.

  Chris looked at me, wide-eyed. I stared back at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then discerned the meaning of his look.

  Rebecca’s parents—Brad’s parents—had been murdered by the creatures.

  And they had no idea.

  Just how on earth did you break that kind of news to someone?

  “…can’t go back until we find Kylie Ann,” Mia was saying.

  “You didn’t even like her,” Brad said.

  “I said she could be difficult,” Mia answered, “but she was still my friend.”

  Chris came forward. “Kylie Ann is dead.”

  They all turned and saw us. I moved out of the shadows and took my place at Chris’s side.

  Rebecca was clutching her throat. “How do you know that?”

  I shook my head. “There’s too much to say…we don’t have time.”

  “Time for what?” Mia asked.

  “Time for them to steal our girlfriends,” Brad said. He came forward, a wintry gleam in his eyes.

  I ignored that. “Carl Padgett has my sister.”

  Mia’s mouth opened, her eyes bright with fear.

  “I have to go,” I said, and made to move past her.

  “I’m coming too,” she said.

  “So am I,” Rebecca said.

  “The hell you are,” Kurt said and grabbed Rebecca by the arm.

  Chris moved toward them. “Let her go.”

  “Fuck you,” Kurt said.

  I expected Brad to go after me then, but he said, “Let’s go with them.”

  I started to move past.

  He shot out an arm to bar my way. “Right after you tell us what you’re really doing here.”

  I considered telling him then, informing him of how the creature snapped his mother’s neck by whipping her like a wet towel, how the beast had punched through his father’s chest like it was soggy cardboard. But I couldn’t do that to Rebecca.

  “Brad,” I said, taking care to keep my voice under control, “I know you don’t believe me. But if you come with me you’ll understand everything soon enough. Either way, I need to get to the caves.”

  His brow furrowed. “Caves? What do the caves have to do with anything?”

  “My sister is in one of them,” I said. “So is her friend.”

  “What if I don’t believe you?”

  “I never would have believed most of the things that happened today. But I’ve lived them. And I’m telling the truth.”

  Without another word, I pushed past him. I didn’t look back, but I heard Chris and the others scurrying to catch up. I began to jog through the forest. Then to run. I took a wide trail for half a minute, then branched off onto a narrower trail. Several times I heard voices calling out behind me—usually Brad or Kurt. When the trail would curve I’d catch glimpses of the girls trailing behind.

  But my mind was absorbed by Peach. By Carl Padgett.

  By the Children.

  What if the creatures we’d fought on River Road had been part of a larger group? What if a whole battalion of them were marauding through the forest, ripping and eating anything that moved or breathed? Carl Padgett was a sick, abhorrent individual, but even if he hadn’t harmed the girls, who was to say that the Children hadn’t found where they’d been hidden? What if the cave where Padgett had taken them had actually been part of the creatures’ subterranean network?

  What if Padgett had already given my sister to the beasts?

  I raced on, the feeling of dread tightening around my throat like a barbed wire noose.

  A horrible truth occurred to me. Even if we all survived this, what then? I was still the son of a monster, the spawn of a cannibalistic serial killer, and what kind of life would I have when people found out? I could imagine explaining myself before a father-son basketball game.

  Hey, my dad won’t be able to attend. He’s busy serving consecutive life sentences for eating children.

  Or what about applying for a job?

  I know genetics aren’t on my side, but I promise to do my best to avoid dissecting our clients and scrawling horrific messages on the wall with their blood.

  “Will!”

  I sucked in a surprised breath and skidded to a halt.

  I turned and glared at Chris, who was jogging up to where I stood. “What?” I snapped.

  “The caves,” he said, between big, heaving breaths. “They’re right over that rise, aren’t they?”

  He was right. Of course, there were more than a few caves in the Hollow, but the largest one—the one I was banking on to be Padgett’s lair—was less than thirty yards away.

  I heard Padgett’s raspy voice echo in my brain: Can’t tell you how good it feels to breath clean air again, to see something other than d
irt and rust.

  At the time, I’d thought Padgett was talking about his jail cell, but what if he’d been talking about his short time hiding out in Savage Hollow? And those words, dirt and rust…where would he be likely to see those things?

  Dirt?

  In a big clearing.

  Rust?

  The abandoned Studebaker.

  It made sense. I only hoped my hunch was right.

  Peach’s and Juliet’s lives depended on it.

  Together, Chris and I mounted the small incline and hunkered down next to a squat gray boulder. Together, we surveyed the circular dale laid out before us.

  In the center of it lay the rusted-out remains of the baby blue Studebaker. I remembered sitting in the passenger’s seat last summer while Chris pretended to drive.

  Ranged around the Studebaker were numerous cave entrances.

  Very few of the caves in the hollow were the kinds you saw in movies—huge, gaping holes that resembled the massive mouths of giants. Most of them were overgrown with weeds and brush, and were only visible if you stood straight across from them. Even then, the majority of the cave entrances were little more than slanted holes in the ground, the caves themselves narrow throats of rock slimed with mud and moss and suitable only for small animals or snakes.

  But the caves in this clearing were large enough for a man to stand up in. Padgett would have chosen a cave like that, I reasoned. Someone with as much pride as he had.

  But more important than the size of these holes was their proximity to civilization. These caves were only minutes from the treehouse, and less than a ten-minute hike to my back door.

  Yes. This was where Padgett would have taken my sister and Juliet.

  But which one were they in? How far inside were they hidden? And how could we save them once we found them?

  If they’re still alive.

  No, I thought, smashing away the idea. I refused to entertain the notion that Peach could be…I couldn’t even think the word.

  No…this was about finding her and saving her. End of story.

  And killing Padgett

  My chest tightened. I frowned, the notion digging into my brain with the insidiousness of a deadly germ. I realized I did want to kill Carl Padgett, and not just to save my sister. If I could take out Padgett, no one would know he was my dad.