The line moved forward and Imani turned to us. “Lacey just texted me. She wants me to meet her and the girls by the dunk tank. Principal Sharpe is on the platform right now.”
My throat tightened. I wanted Lacey to leave her alone. Lacey had plenty of friends, why did she want to hang out with Imani? “Are you going to go?”
Imani scoffed. “Of course not.” Then she started talking about some mystery movie she’d watched on TV the night before and how she had pegged the murderer within the first fifteen minutes. “I have never come across a mystery I couldn’t figure out,” she said confidently. Fletcher raised his eyebrows and threw me a look.
Just then, Ranson hopped over the railing and skipped us in line. If it were up to me, I would have let it slide because talking to Ranson was so not worth the effort. Imani didn’t feel that way. She tapped him on the shoulder. “The line’s back there, Duvall.”
Ranson smirked, looking her up and down in that creepy way he does, then he moved to stand beside me. “It’s cool. My date here was holding my spot.”
Imani’s jaw dropped and Fletcher narrowed his eyes at Ranson.
“He is not my date,” I said quickly, glaring at Ranson. “Seriously, what are you doing?” I demanded. “I thought I was very clear when I told you this wasn’t happening.”
He adjusted the denim jacket he wore. “Wiley wants to see you. He’s in the parking lot, row T. He wants you to bring him a funnel cake when you come.”
I couldn’t deal with either of them. “Not that I care, but why is Wiley in his truck? Why doesn’t he come inside like a normal person?” He was too cool for the carnival but he could come and hang out in the parking lot?
“I told you he doesn’t want to come to this corny-ass carnival. By the way, he says you’re my date unless you want him to post your little video on YouTube.”
Fletcher coughed and Ranson scowled at him.
“Video? What video?” Imani asked. “Like a sex tape? Arden!”
“Oh my God! It’s nothing like that!” It was worse. I turned my focus back to Ranson. Did he know? Had Wiley showed him the video? He couldn’t have or Ranson would have told people. He would have been afraid of me. What did he think was on the video?
Ranson shrugged. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t think I want to know. But anyway, we’ll just turn this into a double date,” he told Imani, “you and Whitelock here, and me and Dust.”
None of this was making any sense. I knew Wiley’s stupid motive, but why was Ranson going along with this date? “What are you getting out of this?”
He shook his head. “Absolutely nothing. Well, maybe some grade A weed and maybe he has something on me too, but mostly I’m doing a favor for my boy. Anyway, I don’t know what your problem is, Dust. You should be honored.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.”
Fletcher rolled his eyes at Ranson because he never wasted time and energy hiding his feelings. “No one here wants to hang out with you. Get lost.”
Ranson looked amused as he usually did before pounding Fletcher. “Whitelock, I’ve been missing you at school lately. I heard you had some kind of contagious alien disease. I was hoping it was fatal, but then I hear you extraterrestrial freaks are pretty resilient.”
I’d never heard the idiot use such big words.
“How’s the nose?” Fletcher asked.
Ranson touched his nose splint and that was probably the first time I’d seen him be self-conscious about anything. “Shut up, asshole before I break your nose.”
Thankfully it was our time to get on the ride and I was determined not to let Ranson ruin any of this night for us. Fun times for me and Fletcher were too few and far between.
Imani, being the awesome person she was, paired up with Ranson so Fletcher and I could ride together. Ranson had tried to protest, but the man running the ride yelled at him to have a seat so the ride could start.
The four of us jumped from ride to ride until I started to feel queasy, so we stopped by the face-painting booth. Fletcher wanted to get tiger stripes painted on his face. Ranson told him that he was going to look like a bigger idiot than he usually did, but of course Fletcher didn’t care.
At the booth, I chatted with Mary-Kate for a few moments. She was the one in charge of face painting. She talked about how much money they’d already raised for the children’s hospital as she moved back and forth refilling paint trays and cleaning brushes for the volunteers. I’d hoped that even she’d be able to let her hair down and have some fun that night, but maybe that was her idea of fun. At least she was wearing jeans under her paint smock. I don’t think I had ever seen her wear jeans before.
We played a few games and ate junk food, mostly ignoring Ranson, who obediently followed me everywhere. He was afraid to leave my side as if Wiley were in the trees that surrounded the carnival grounds watching us. Ranson had spent most of the night insulting us and explaining to people why he was hanging out with losers.
We managed to ditch him once when he left to go to the restroom. When he found us standing in line waiting to get our palms read, he punched Fletcher in the back. “Don’t do that again,” Ranson said through clenched teeth.
Before he even had the sentence out, Imani kneed him in the nuts. Ranson doubled over, holding himself. “Bitch!”
That earned him a swift kick in the shin. I pulled Imani away from him to stop the violence, even though Ranson had deserved it. He hobbled behind the three of us, mumbling all sorts of curses under his breath. Wiley must have really had something on him for Ranson to still be tagging along after that. I was disappointed because I’d really wanted to have my palm read. Maybe the reader would have told me something useful—like what type of species I’d turn into over the next few months.
I needed to think up something to lighten the mood. “Hey, we didn’t do the Ferris wheel yet,” I said as we approached the ride. Who could be angry on a Ferris wheel?
Imani watched a crowd of kids leave the ride through a gate marked EXIT. “You know what? Why don’t you and Fletcher ride? I want to beat Ranson’s ass in ski ball,” she said, winking at me.
That was fine with me, but of course Ranson protested. “Wait, I’m supposed to stay with—”
Imani grinned slyly at Ranson. “Loser has to buy the winner an ice cream cone. You scared?”
“Hell no,” Ranson shouted. “Let’s go.” He turned to me and Fletcher. “We’ll catch up to you guys. Hands to yourself, Whitelock.”
I rolled my eyes watching the two of them dart off into the crowd, bickering with each other. Way to take one for the team, Imani.
Fletcher and I made it through the gate just as the attendant was about to close it, and climbed into a purple bucket.
I sat as close to Fletcher as possible, hoping my hands would stop trembling. He was my best friend so I didn’t understand why I felt so nervous around him all of a sudden.
Fletcher tapped the empty space on the seat beside him. “What do you think this is made out of?”
“I don’t know, Fletch.” We were alone, sitting close together on a Ferris wheel and that’s what he was thinking about? What the seat was made out of?
My emotions couldn’t make up their minds. I wanted to be angry with Fletcher, but I couldn’t right then. The ride moved, sending us slowly into the air. Fletcher was preoccupied with peeking over the side of the bucket, so I made the first move. I grabbed his hand and leaned my head on his shoulder. Thankfully, he didn’t shrug me away.
“You smell good,” I told him. He smelled like aftershave and something musky which was weird because to a Taker, Givers were supposed to have a sour, pungent smell. Fletcher never smelled that way to me.
Fletcher coughed into his hand. “Thanks. What if the wind blew really hard right now and this thing tilted and we fell out?”
I sighed. “I guess we’ll be all right. We’d be hurt but we wouldn’t die. You’d heal right . . .” Then I remembered how F
letcher wasn’t healing the way he used to and I didn’t want to talk about any of that. “Let’s just enjoy the ride,” I suggested, and we did just that. We held hands in silence until the ride came to a stop. It took a while for us to be let out, since passengers could only be let off one cart at a time.
We found Imani and Ranson standing at the ride’s exit. Imani licked a chocolate cone while Ranson glared at her with his arms folded across his chest. I didn’t even have to ask.
We had planned on staying at the carnival until it closed at midnight, but close to eleven, I was ready to go. I couldn’t take another hour of Ranson and his rudeness. His presence had ruined everything, but I guessed I had Wiley to thank for that. Even Imani, who was always upbeat, had grown silent.
The four of us settled down at a sticky picnic table to snack on curly fries and fried Oreos. So far, the night had been the perfect temperature for me, not too hot, not too cold, but suddenly a chill in the air made me shiver.
A heaviness weighed on my shoulders, like a strong man was standing behind me, pressing down on them. I locked eyes with Fletcher who sat frozen, prepared to pop another fry in his mouth. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and a foul stench filled my nostrils. Something was wrong. Fletcher knew it too. Imani and Ranson argued over the last fried Oreo, completely oblivious.
Not far from us was the Double Loop. Screams and shrieks had become normal background noise to us, but suddenly they had taken a different tone. They were no longer fun screams, but screams of pure horror. I looked over my shoulder to see people rushing away from the area, yelling and pushing their way to the front of the carnival as if something were chasing them.
“What the hell?” Ranson muttered.
I stood to get a better look at what was going on. “What’s happening?”
Fletcher took off in the opposite direction of the crowd, disappearing into the sea of running, panicking people. Imani screamed our names as I followed him. We were the only fools running toward whatever had freaked everyone out. That was when I saw it, right beside the entrance for the Double Loop line. A massive creature with the head of a bull and a muscular man’s massive body. A Minotaur. Minotaurs belonged in the sixth tunnel. What was this one doing out? How did it get here?
The area had been mostly vacated. The Minotaur held one of the carnival workers under its left hoof, crushing him with his powerful legs. Its thighs were thick as tree trunks. Two long, curved horns protruded from the sides of its head. The carnival worker gave a long piercing cry, his arms flailing wildly as the Minotaur placed more weight on him. The creature knew exactly what it was doing.
The roller coaster had come to a stop, but passengers were still stuck in their seats by their over-the-shoulder restraints since the operator’s booth had been vacated.
The man grunted in a fruitless attempt to lift the Minotaur’s hoof from his midsection. I felt horrible just standing around doing nothing.
“Fletcher, do something,” I pleaded. Maybe him changing into a wolf would distract the Minotaur.
He shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t change anymore.”
I looked at him. “What?”
“I just haven’t been able to do it for a couple of weeks.”
I wanted more answers from him, but there wasn’t time for that.
The Minotaur lifted its snout and sniffed the air. My insides flip-flopped as it set its sights on me and Fletcher. Minotaurs were Takers, and Takers weren’t supposed to harm other Takers, but the creatures of the sixth tunnel were different. They had no self-control. No inclination to follow rules. They went after anything in their paths—Taker or not.
Shouts from carnival security rang behind us as the Minotaur crushed the man even more. I couldn’t imagine the pain he must have been in. The man let out a final agonizing howl and then fell motionless.
Fletcher gasped. We’d just stood around watching that man die. We should have done something.
We backed away as security rushed past us. “You kids get to the exit now!” one of them shouted, but we didn’t move.
The three security guards formed a line and pointed dark rectangular-shaped objects at the Minotaur—tasers. That was probably the strongest weapon they had. Who would think they needed anything more to guard a high school carnival?
“On three,” ordered the guard in the middle. I already knew this wasn’t going to work. The Minotaur was so much stronger than their measly taser guns.
“One . . . two . . . three.” They fired and a crackling sound filled the air.
The Minotaur bayed and rushed forward. With one swoop, he knocked two of the guards off their feet and raised the third in the air by his throat. They hadn’t hurt the Minotaur at all. All they’d done was piss it off.
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to stop the creature like I had stopped Bailey, but I wasn’t changing like I had that night. My gums weren’t raw, a sign that my teeth were sharpening. My nails weren’t turning into claws. I didn’t feel the need for flesh and meat.
“Stop it,” Fletcher whispered. At first I thought he was talking to the Minotaur but then I realized that he was speaking to me. How the hell was I supposed to stop it?
A purple haze formed around the security guard which was quickly turning gray. I narrowed my eyes and concentrated on the Minotaur. I wasn’t sure how being a Banshee worked. I didn’t know how hard I had to think or if I had to say the words out loud. I made a locker door open one day, but other than that, I knew nothing and there was no one to teach me.
“Put him down!” I shouted.
The Minotaur paused for a moment and then snorted before lifting the security guard higher. The man made a sick gurgling sound as his throat was being crushed. The Minotaur glared at me as if daring me to stop it.
I looked around me thinking of ways the Minotaur might die. A Banshee can kill with her thoughts. Just think, Arden. My gaze fell on the Ferris wheel not too far away, sitting still. The carts were empty, swaying back and forth in the wind. The ride must have unloaded just before all this happened. Maybe I could do what I had done in the locker room that day; make something move with my mind. I pictured the Ferris wheel rolling off its foundation and over the Minotaur like a bull dozer, but nothing happened. The ride remained in its place. I imagined the tracks of the Double Loop collapsing onto the creature, but that would put us all in danger.
“Fletcher, I don’t know what to do.”
The Minotaur must have sensed our helplessness because he squeezed the throat of the security guard until the man’s body jerked a few times and then drooped like a wilted flower. The creature flung the lifeless body to the side like a dishrag. The kids still stuck in the roller coaster seats shrieked in full-on panic mode, trying to lift the restraints that held them in. The noise caused the Minotaur to focus his attention on them. It hunched its shoulders and stamped the ground with its right hoof. They were sitting ducks.
The other two security guards were crawling away when something rushed passed us—a Satyr. I recognized the white stripe down his back. It was Principal Sharpe.
Principal Sharpe was muscular and toned, but in his transformed state, he had the bottom half of a goat, making him significantly smaller than the Minotaur.
The Minotaur froze at the sight of the Satyr. It seemed to growl something at Principal Sharpe, who growled back with much more ferociousness. The Minotaur backed away. I wondered why since it looked as if it could take Sharpe easily. Maybe it would go back where it had come from.
But then the Minotaur seemed to have a change of heart because it stamped its hooves at Principal Sharpe. The Minotaur charged him, tackling him to the ground.
The Satyr was smaller, but also faster and more limber. With one sharp movement, Principal Sharpe grabbed the Minotaur’s head and twisted it, resulting in a sickening snap. He made it look so easy. It was hard to believe this was the same man who did the morning announcements and handed out detentions for running in the hallways. The Minotaur rolled to t
he ground and then lay still. A hush fell over everyone looking on.
Principal Sharpe turned to me and Fletcher. “Get out of here now.”
I didn’t need to be told again. We raced for the carnival’s exit. Police cars and fire trucks careened into the parking lot. The lot was full of people still hanging around trying to see what was happening. We found Imani sitting cross-legged on the hood of her car.
“What happened to you guys? I wanted to go look for you, but they wouldn’t let me back inside. Why’d you run off like that?”
Fletcher cleared his throat. “I saw someone I knew and I wanted to say hello.”
Imani looked at him curiously. “Okay. Did you see anything? What’s happening in there? People are saying they saw some kind of monster.”
He shrugged. “That’s crazy. Maybe it was somebody in a costume just trying to scare people. Remember, like that zombie we saw in the haunted house. Anyway, we didn’t see anything. Can we go home now?”
Imani frowned, but nodded.
As we opened the car doors, Wiley’s truck pulled up on the way to the exit. The passenger side window rolled down and Ranson poked his head out. “Yo, Dust, just for the record, this was the worst date I’ve ever had.”
The feeling was mutual, but sadly, it was the first and only date I had been on. I didn’t have the strength or energy to hate Ranson right then. Two men had died right before my eyes. Somewhere in me, I had the power to prevent their deaths, but I had no idea how.
The police ordered everyone to clear the grounds. Imani kept asking questions we refused to answer and then thankfully, she stopped talking and we rode in silence.
The next morning on the news an anchor reported that a wild ox had somehow wandered onto the carnival grounds, trampling a security guard and carnival worker to death. Anything to keep the residents and visitors of Everson Woods calm, but this time dozens of people had seen the truth.
The kids on the roller coaster. The people who’d run away from the Minotaur when it was first spotted. How were they going to keep all those people quiet? How would our creature world remain hidden after that?
Dust and Roses: Book Two of the Dust Trilogy Page 10