Will Wilder

by Raymond Arroyo

  Will leaned his head slightly to the right of his great-aunt to peek at the cavern, his hands resting on her shoulders. “He’s right there, Aunt Lucille,” Will blurted into her ear. “Levia…the Captain…It’s right there under the floating cage.”

  Will couldn’t stand looking at the horrible creature. His sinuses didn’t much care for it either. AH-CHOO! AH-CHOO!

  The demon’s seven heads, suspended by their long, barrel-sized necks, suddenly snapped in his direction. Four of the wicked faces began chanting, “Will Wilder…Wilder…Will Wilder.”

  That’s when Nep Balor’s head, at the center, stretched toward the boy. His yellow eye glowed with kindness. “If it ain’t our old pal Will. Did you have a good rest? Glad yer up and about. We couldn’t have done any of this without yer help, lad.” Rumbling laughter ricocheted off the walls of the cave.

  “Don’t speak to it,” Lucille reminded Will, holding her hands out in assault mode.

  “Doesn’t matter what yer old auntie says about ye. Yer an asset—a treasure—to us, boy,” the demon cooed.

  “Treasure, treasure, treasure,” a wispy chorus intoned.

  “Keep silent,” Aunt Lucille cautioned.

  “ ‘Don’t say this, don’t say that,’ ” Balor mimicked mockingly. “Yer auntie is not in charge here. This is not Peniel. Ye may say whatever yeh please, Will. We’re all free here.”

  Will’s vision of the demon was sharply focused. For the first time he could see the entire body of the beast, unobstructed. Its seven necks like scaled tree trunks blended into a massive chest. Two arms of reptilian muscle as thick as boulders rested on a tangle of squid tentacles sprouting from the sides of the torso. The ridged belly gave way to a gargantuan tail. On either side of the tail were legs that made Will think of a T. rex poster he once had in his room. He watched in fascinated horror as the flat gray claws of the creature propelled its monstrous form to the pit at the rear of the circular chamber.

  “It’s only right that ye see history in the making, Will,” the demon said. The cage hovered near the pit. “Now begins the rise of the Sinestri and the end of the Brethren.” The demon raised the caged relic high over its writhing heads….

  Aunt Lucille, her eyes locked on the relic in the cage, hissed over her shoulder, “Where is it exactly? Under the cage?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Just to the left.”

  She asked no more questions. A red-and-white-rimmed ray escaped the triangle of Aunt Lucille’s fingers. The surging light struck the demon at the base of its necks. Upon impact, the cage was tossed sideways, near the rocky wall holding Tobias Shen.

  “Caaaaa­aaaaa­hhhhhhh,” the demon wheezed. Its seven heads wriggled wildly in anguish as if they were roasting from the inside. Aunt Lucille showed no emotion. She simply stood her ground, projecting the steady laser of light.

  Will stepped from behind his aunt, wide-eyed, as the Beast’s knees buckled. The thing clawed at the walls, trying to steady itself. As it struggled, the seven heads glared at the Fomorii in front of Aunt Lucille and Will. The demon suddenly opened a scaled hand, causing the Bottom Dwellers to stir. All four rose up on their hind legs.

  Aunt Lucille continued to pound the demon with her ray. Like insane dogs, the Bottom Dwellers sprang at Will, their jaws wide and bloodthirsty. Aunt Lucille somersaulted in front of the boy and directed her beam at the advancing Dwellers. One by one the reptilian crawlers were turned to reeking purple ash.

  That was all the time the demon needed.

  Terror filled Will’s eyes. “Aunt Lucille, he’s coming this way. He’s on your right. Two o’clock! He’s at two o’clock!”

  By the time Aunt Lucille had finished off the last Bottom Dweller, the demon had overtaken her. It jammed its tentacles between Lucille’s forearms, separating her hands and snuffing out the red ray.

  “No more of your tricks, Lucille,” icy voices cried. Will helplessly watched the clawed hands of the demon throw his great-aunt’s body against the rocky surface opposite Tobias Shen. The creature’s huge claws grabbed her by the waist, its tentacles stretching her arms wide.

  Purple anemone funnels affixed to the wall wormed toward Aunt Lucille’s limbs. The funnels spewed neon tendrils that wrapped around her wrists and legs.

  “Will, do as you were told. Now!” Aunt Lucille ordered, splayed out on the wall. She winced as the venom of the sea anemones began seeping into her flesh.

  With tears forming in his eyes, Will tugged at his great-grandfather’s pith helmet for confidence and made a run for it. He scooped up the cage holding the relic and tried to wrestle it open. Over his shoulder, Will glanced up at poor Mr. Shen. Though badly beaten, the old man’s lips formed gentle words.

  “—defende nos in proelio, contra neqitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. Imperet illi Deus—”

  Will could not pry the cage open more than a few inches. He stepped on the attached rod and tried to unlatch the enclosure with both hands. Losing patience, he violently yanked the cage this way, then that, sending the rod swinging in all directions behind him.

  Across the wrecked subterranean temple, Aunt Lucille commanded the demon’s full attention. Though she could not see its form, she could feel the Beast’s icy breath on her face as it spoke.

  “The Brethren are near extinction and they send a child and two broken-down fossils to do battle with us. Oh, how yeh’ve wasted yer life. Yer the relic now, Lucille. Ye could have been such a help to us.”

  She turned her face away from the stinking frosty breath and closed her eyes.

  The voice spoke softly now. “As we devoured Jacob Wilder and yer brother, so we shall devour yer entire line. Even the boy! Yer enduring hope! We shall crush every member of the Brethren down to their last bone. Daddy Wilder may have demolished our temple, but tonight his own blood—his precious Sarah Lucille—will be sacrificed on our ruined altar and thrust into the pit. Once the Darkness receives the relic—”

  The demon stopped short as if suddenly reminded of something. It spun around, all its faces searching the corners of the cavern. It sought out the reliquary.

  Feeling multiple eyes on him, Will froze, his hand caught in the relic cage. The demon opened its arms. Like excited snakes, the tentacles on its sides reached for the frazzled boy. Will shook the cage, unsuccessfully pulling at its metal jaws.

  The demon drew closer.

  “Go,” Aunt Lucille whimpered. “Run.”

  In his frenzied bumbling, Will inadvertently knocked over one of the braziers with the cage’s metal rod. Hot coals scattered across the ground with a sizzle. Seeing how close the demon was, Will stumbled backward.

  “This was not part of the plan,” Will said to himself. Suddenly the scent of burning rubber filled his nostrils. The soles of his red sneakers were melting!

  “Aaaah! Hot, hot, hot!” Will sputtered, doing a chicken dance on the flaming coals, his hand stuck in the cage.

  “It’s all right, lad. I know yeh want the relic,” said Balor, comforting the boy. “And I want yeh to have it—forever.” The demon caught the end of the metal rod, hoisting the cage and Will high into the air. “Let’s awaken some of our friends.”

  The Beast dragged Will along the ceiling of the chamber, which at first appeared to be covered with jagged rocks. But now that Will was closer, he realized they were dangling gray clams, big as footballs. As Will brushed by them, the unhinged shells released black goo, which collected on the floor. From the puddles, long, slick arms emerged, then legs. Within seconds each of the puddles started jiggling. Then, of their own volition, the goo was off the ground and began to stand. The demon had created new Stickers….

  Will desperately took hold of the relic in the cage, yanking at the bottom of the metal lattice with his other hand. His hanging weight caused the hinge to give, and the cage popped open.

  Will and the relic tumbled to the floor. When he hit the ground, his helmet bounced off and the reliquary escaped his grasp. Recovering the hat, he scrambled on all fours
toward the reliquary. It was only three feet away from him. As he reached for the golden artifact two prehistoric legs appeared, blocking his path.

  “Do ye ever get the feelin’ that we’ve done this before?” Balor asked from overhead.

  Will slowly glanced up. Seven corpselike faces smiled down at him.

  “Go. Go,” Aunt Lucille demanded, with effort, from the wall.

  “Shut up, Lucille,” a barnacled face gurgled, twisting its neck backward. Balor continued placidly, his face never leaving Will. “She doesn’t understand us, lad. She’s so afraid of what we might give yeh. What’s Lucille ever seen except the inside of that musty museum of hers? Nothing. She lives in the past. We are the future. We command the waters, sail the seven seas. We’ve adventured with emperors and kings. Why shouldn’t ye be next, lad?”

  Will was transfixed by the Captain’s words.

  Balor’s neck bent low so that his face was very near Will’s. The seven horns atop his head were now quite pointy. The closeness of the dripping, sick eye made Will want to gag. He pulled the pith helmet brim low, covering his eyes.

  Balor whispered urgently, “Perilous Falls will be washed away in a few hours. But with us ye can have a future: friends, more power than ye ever dreamed—and oh, think of the adventures that could be yers, Willy. How many times did yer auntie and that cruel groundsman over there”—the demon flicked a paw in Tobias Shen’s direction—“keep things from yeh? We’d never do that, Will. They want to control the relics, control yer gift, hold us all down. But we’re here for ye now—and more are coming. The Brethren are finished. Ye poor thing—bet yeh don’t even know who the Brethren are?”

  “I do,” Will said indignantly. “And I know who you are. Leviathan! You didn’t tell me that you were Leviathan. Why should I believe you?” When he looked up, though his vision was fading, the demon’s six extra faces seemed angrier than before.

  Balor’s face remained undisturbed. “Don’t know where yeh got that name from. Never heard it before. Expect Auntie’s been filling your head with more fibs. Let’s make a simple deal: during the terrible water-soaked days to come, we’ll protect yeh—and yer family and friends. That’s a promise. Help yeh realize yer true power. We only ask one favor.”

  “What is it?” Will asked, keeping his eyes off the demon’s face.

  “Help us rid the world of that relic. There are other bones and trinkets. That one’s caused so much trouble, Will. Toss it into the pit over there.” Balor turned to the bubbling black pool, half covered by the broken altar.

  “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

  “Oh, we’ve never liked touching dead things. Against our religion…and what with the busted cage and all…But ye could carry it to the pit for us—and earn protection in the days to come.”

  Will was visibly frightened by Balor’s words. In the grip of fear, he considered making a deal with the demon. With Perilous Falls sinking under the angry waters and his aunt Lucille and Shen trapped, Will’s choices were limited. Disposing of the relic to save his family and his friends might be a fair trade….

  Then the prophecy’s warning came back to him. The relic should not be “desecrated or destroyed,” it said. Soon other words echoed in his head:

  “…without him, there can be no victory for the Brethren or for my people….For only with a pure heart and belief that is strong can he ever hope to crush the heads of Leviathan.”

  Some of the demon’s faces wore pleading expressions; others were dejected. His vision of the demon was steadily dimming. Nep Balor had tears in his good eye—as far as Will could tell.

  “Ye have to end this suffering, boy. Help yer family. Help yerself. There’ll be no orders given here. Ye’ll be free to do as ye please once we get rid of that old bone.” The demon’s razor-sharp tail pointed to the relic for emphasis.

  BLUB…BLUB…BLUB…

  Will knew those sounds. Behind him, the Stickers were closing in. BLUB…BLUB…BLUB…Like an alarm clock in his bedroom, the bubbling noises startled him. They pulled Will from his thoughts and out of his conversation with Balor. Shifting into a sprinter’s stance, Will made a decision.

  Gazing through the front window of his home, Max Meriwether fell asleep in his wheelchair. He had been watching the torrential rain pound Dorcas Drive outside. The sweet classical music that calmed him filled the cramped living room courtesy of his mother, Evelyn.

  The round, soft center of the Meriwether household ducked in and out of the living room every few minutes to check on her little boy. The pudgy and perpetually flushed woman continued chatting with Max from the kitchen despite his snores. Her voice was a bit too loud, possessing the sunny tone of a kindergarten teacher instructing students to put their finger paints away.

  “Raining hard out, huh?” Evelyn asked, absently adding water to her bread mixture on the kitchen counter. “Daddy emailed and said he saw a crocodile swimming up Gall Lane, outside the shop. Can you believe it? You don’t see any crocs out there, do you, Maxie?”

  Max slept soundly, his head resting on a rubber cushion attached to his wheelchair.

  “Haven’t heard from Cami. I hope she’s okay in this downpour. Hope she had the sense to stay at the museum.” Evelyn flipped on the television to check the weather.

  A young female reporter in a blue windbreaker with tousled blond hair hugged a lamppost on Main Street. She battled the relentless downpour to stay in front of the camera. Her false eyelashes and bloodred lipstick were the only things standing between the audience and her clueless expression.

  “It’s the most unbelievable weather event I have ever seen—I know I’ve only been here a few weeks, but there are hurricane-force winds on the streets. Signs are blowing off buildings, trees are down—holy cow! Now, I’m not a weather expert”—she giggled to underscore the obvious—“but the meteorologists tell me they didn’t even see this system coming on their radars.”

  During a meaningless chat with the anchors, the reporter was distracted by something happening off camera. Her eyes suddenly widened and she began to shiver. The wind-ravaged woman shrilly cut the anchors off.

  “I can’t talk anymore because…Okay! I’m going to go in. The guys in our van are, like—being attacked! Holy cow! There are two, like, huge alligators scratching at the door of our news van. I’m not kidding—they’re breaking the windows—holy cow! Rachel Riker Rutledge reporting from Main Street for Sidon News, Channel Eight….” She finished with an insincere smile, dropped the microphone, and fled the scene.

  “Maxie, I wonder if those are the crocodiles Daddy saw,” Evelyn mused, staring at the TV. “We certainly can’t count on Rachel what’s-her-name to tell us.” She struck the dough before her with a rolling pin. “Poor girl’s a mess….Reporting’s just not her bag. She should try track and field.”

  The kitchen door burst open, rain splattering on the golden-yellow linoleum. Cami slammed the door behind her, soaked to the bone and breathing hard.

  “Mother, where is Max?”

  “Oh, just look at you, Cami. You look like a waterlogged squirrel, honey.” She raced into the laundry room, wiping her plump hands on her red calico apron. Within seconds, she was wrapping Cami in a fresh towel. “You’re shivering, hon. This weather is crazy. Why didn’t you stay at the museum?”

  “It’s kind of a long story, Mother.” She shot into the den, drying her hair. “Max. Max.” After a few shakes the boy stirred, his eyes filled with sleep.

  Cami knelt next to his chair. “What happened at the end of your dream the other day, Max? After the bad one got the golden treasure. Did the town flood? Was Will hurt?”

  Max used his left wrist to rub at his eyes. “I keep having a new dream. A totally new dream, Cami.”

  “Tell me about the old dream first. What did the ‘bad one’ look like?”

  “The bad one is ugly. An ugly monster with many faces. It goes away in the old dream. The bad one goes away. But today…” He beat his head against the cushion supporting it. �
�Today…”

  “Was Will the bad one? Is he with the bad one?”

  Max shook his head, indicating a definite no.

  “He wants to get the golden treasure back from the bad one—the Sinestri. Only Will can get it. Nobody else.” Max clenched his teeth and got very still. His eyes locked on his sister’s. “Today I had a new dream—a nightmare,” he panted.

  Evelyn Meriwether stood in the doorway of the living room, watching her children. “Why are you badgering your brother? Maxie is tired. Aren’t you, darling?” she said, an edge in her voice.

  “Just a minute, Mother,” Cami insisted. “What did you see in the nightmare?”

  “A dark raven. A black, black raven comes. It’s nice, so nice at first.”

  “Does the raven come here? To Perilous Falls?”

  “Yes.” Max seemed almost afraid. “Then it makes blood. Blood…everywhere.”

  “Here in Perilous Falls?”

  “Can’t you see you’re upsetting your brother?” Evelyn said, gently interrupting. She took hold of the wheelchair handles. “Maxie, come see the bread I’m making for you in the kitchen.”

  As he was wheeled away he reached an arm out toward his sister. “Blood in Perilous Falls…blood everywhere.”

  Stunned and confused, Cami stared through the front window at the debris and water swirling outside. What she couldn’t see beyond the maelstrom were the two Bottom Dwellers clamoring up the big oak on the front lawn—or the one balancing at the end of the tree limb just above the Meriwethers’ roof.

  The demon towered over Will, awaiting a response to its offer. The boy crouched before the Beast, his legs bent, balancing on the fingers of one hand.

  BLUB…BLUB…BLUB…The Stickers crowded in behind him.

  “So do we have a deal, lad?” Nep Balor asked. The heads of the demon formed an eerie semicircle around Balor’s face, like sickly planets orbiting a dark sun. “Deal?…Deal?…Help us…Power…Adventure…Deal?…Deal?” they begged in a series of low moans.