Scare Scape

by Sam Fisher

  Morton scrambled on all fours to grasp his sword again but froze suddenly when a horrific inhuman growl filled the attic. It wasn’t the Galosh. Everyone turned in unison to see James standing on the other side of the room. He let out a second terrifying roar, and Morton watched with disbelief as he snapped his chains like strings of licorice. His eyes cast a dim green glow, and Morton could see his back arching as spines tore through his clothing and erupted all over his hands and face. It was the most terrifying apparition Morton had ever seen.

  In a sudden blur of motion James threw himself at the beast. It dropped Melissa and turned to defend itself. James and the Galosh collided in the center of the room and began tearing at each other’s flesh in a whirlwind of savage blows. James was formidably strong and threw the Galosh to the floor several times, but each time the Galosh leaped up and resumed the attack, showing no signs of fatigue. Morton knew why. The only way to kill a Galosh was to hack it to a thousand pieces. If James had been a fully transformed Snarf, he might have stood a chance, but being part human, he was tiring quickly. After a few more minutes of terrifying struggle, the Galosh drove one of its talons right into a vulnerable part of James’s shoulder, then spun him around and threw him clear across the room. James landed in a bruised heap and didn’t get up. The creature inched toward him.

  Brown raced in agitated circles around the peak of the ceiling. “Finish him!”

  Morton watched helplessly as the Galosh locked its empty eyes on James. The creature was about to deliver a final deadly blow when a high-pitched, painful scraping noise reverberated around the attic. It sounded like a nail scratching along an immensely long chalkboard. The Galosh stopped and looked around. The noise came again. A long, grating rasp. Then there was a different sound, a series of soft thumps that sounded to Morton as though a rain of tennis balls was landing on the roof outside. The noise grew in intensity, turning into a veritable storm. Brown began crawling around randomly like a frightened upside-down dog. The sound became so loud that Morton and the others pressed their hands to their ears. Something was landing on the roof and scraping at it with sharp claws. It was as if a hundred …

  Cats!

  Morton suddenly realized what was happening. Hundreds upon hundreds of cats must have been scampering over the turret roof, their claws gripping onto the slates as they scratched and slipped around. The Zombie Twins, Morton thought. They were herding the cats onto the roof. But why? Had they come back for the gargoyle?

  The scratching grew more furious until quite suddenly one of the black slates flew off, revealing the starlit sky beyond. The hole filled instantly with a dozen snarling feline faces. Morton gasped. He’d never seen cats looking so fierce. Brown raced down from the peak and, in a mind-bending defiance of gravity, stepped onto the floor just behind his demonic creation.

  “Quick, get the fingers!” he ordered.

  The Galosh shot toward Melissa. She attempted to run but there was nowhere to go, and a second later the Galosh hooked the pouch from around her neck, snapping the leather string.

  More slates flew from the highest part of the roof as the cats clawed their way into the attic. They began to throw themselves through the square holes and into the enclosed space, spreading across the floor, hissing and screeching.

  Brown shouted at his beast again, “The gargoyle too, you idiot!”

  Morton looked over to see that Brown was now standing at the open hatch beside the Galosh. It would have to wade through an ocean of cats to reach the gargoyle. It hesitated, glancing around at the increasing chaos.

  “Now!” Brown ordered fiercely.

  Then it ran. In three heavy steps it cleared the distance to the font in the center of the room, where it grabbed the gargoyle and tucked it firmly under its arm. The cats swarmed instantly up the creature’s leathery legs like a living fur coat, sinking hundreds of pairs of teeth and thousands of claws into its tough skin. A dozen gashes opened up on the beast’s body, and rivulets of watery blue blood spilled to the floor, but the creature didn’t slow down. In three more strides it was back at the hatch, and in one enormous leap it vanished down the hole. Brown dove after it and slammed the ebony panel shut. Morton’s heart sank as he heard the clunk of the heavy latch below. They were locked in. He spun around, expecting the cats to begin attacking them, but the cats didn’t even seem to notice they were there. They milled around in passive confusion.

  Wendy ran immediately over to James and crouched beside him. “James!” she cried.

  James’s eyes fluttered open. “I’m fine,” he said.

  Morton breathed a sigh of relief. He’d thought James was too far gone to be able to speak but, judging by his voice, there was still something of the old James left after all.

  “You don’t look fine,” Melissa said, gesturing at the wound on his shoulder.

  “Hey, I can battle a tank and win, remember,” he said, sitting up and looking around. “Why aren’t the cats eating us?”

  “I don’t know,” Wendy said. “They look hungry enough.”

  Morton then noticed that the cats were scratching at the hinges around the hatch.

  “They’re helping us escape!” he said incredulously.

  “I thought you guys said the Zombie Twins were controlling the cats,” Robbie said, looking around in exhausted confusion. “Why would they want to help you?”

  Morton shook his head. “I’m not sure. The Zombie Twins are really evil in the comic.”

  The scratching got louder and more frantic until, with a sudden crash, the ebony panel fell through its own jamb, bounced off the aluminum ladder, and landed with a thud on the floor below.

  Morton ran over to the hole and gazed down in amazement. The cats began jumping down and sprang purposefully out of Dad’s office as if guided by a powerful beacon.

  “Quick!” Melissa yelled. “Get Brown!”

  James leaped to his feet and was the first to clamber down the ladder to the floor below.

  Everyone followed James amid the endless waterfall of cats and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

  They all burst through the screen door onto the porch at about the same time and came to a sudden halt. Morton had half expected to find Brown speeding away down the driveway in his car, but the teacher hadn’t escaped at all. He was standing motionless in the middle of the lawn beside his wounded beast, completely surrounded by cats. Hundreds of green eyes glinted in the moonlight as the cats stared unblinking, scowling and hissing. Morton had never seen so many cats in his entire life. It was a wholly unnatural and chilling sight.

  Then, with eyes glowing so fiercely they cast a red glow on the cats below, the Zombie Twins drifted to the front of the pack accompanied by several sinewy Gristle Grunts, a clutch of Acid-Spitting Frogs, and the four-headed Hydra Snake that Morton had battled in school.

  “What’s going on?” Melissa asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

  Morton shrugged. He had no idea.

  “You better call off these toys of yours, Morton,” Brown yelled as soon as he saw them, “or you’ll regret it!”

  “What’s he talking about?” Robbie whispered.

  “He thinks I’m controlling the Zombie Twins,” Morton said.

  “You’re not, are you?” he said uncertainly.

  “No!” Morton exclaimed.

  “Then who is?” Robbie asked.

  Morton could think of only one answer, and as soon as the idea came into his head he realized it had to be right. “King,” he said. “King’s controlling them.”

  “King?” Melissa hissed. “Make up your mind. I thought you said he was dead.”

  “He is,” Morton said, “but I think I finally figured out what’s —”

  He didn’t have time to finish. Brown commanded his beast to run. In a surge of motion, the creature grabbed the gargoyle by one of its three legs and used it like a club to smash its way through the cats. The animals began yowling and hissing and leaping aside as the beast bludgeoned a path through the angry b
rood. Brown followed, racing through the clearing to the bottom of the yard until he reached the well. He then bounded up onto the circular stone wall while the beast stood below, swinging the gargoyle mercilessly at the approaching cats. But the cats kept coming, surging relentlessly toward the Galosh.

  Brown’s face turned to terror and he quickly fumbled in his pocket, pulled out the small leather pouch containing the stone fingers, and raised it over the black, bottomless well. “Call them off!” he yelled. “Call them off or we all lose!”

  “We can’t stop them!” Morton shouted.

  The cat pack was growing even more savage now. They climbed over the Galosh, leaping onto its back, shoulders, and head. Two Gristle Grunts sped over like trained dwarf soldiers and grabbed each of the beast’s legs, causing it to collapse to the ground. The beast let out a fearful wail of anger. It pounded a few more times, using the gargoyle as a weapon, but the odds were heavily against it. In one swirling motion the cats swarmed over the crippled creature, burying it completely in a mass of fur that writhed and churned like a giant hairy wave on Dad’s perfect green lawn. The noise was deafening. Like a thousand cat fights all happening at once, yowling and mewling and spitting. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The cats dispersed and, impossibly, the Galosh, foot soldier of the underworld, was gone. There were no limbs, no tatters of flesh, no scales or bones. All that remained was the lifeless gargoyle, lying facedown in the grass. Morton felt suddenly sick.

  Brown’s face went as pale as the moon. “I said call them off!” he yelled again. “Or I’ll drop the fingers.”

  Instantly, as if obeying some unheard command, the animals became calm. The Zombie Twins floated over the pack and settled a few feet from Brown, staring mutely up at him.

  “What just happened?” Melissa said, trembling visibly.

  “I think the Zombie Twins are on our side,” Morton said.

  “Are you crazy?” Melissa exclaimed. “They set those flying snakes on us.”

  Morton shook his head. “I think they were trying to hide the gargoyle in the closet to keep it safe,” he said. “That’s why they didn’t just steal it. And they rescued us in school by taking the monsters away before they could hurt anyone.”

  Melissa’s face changed from disbelief to realization. Morton looked back at Mr. Brown still holding the pouch over the well. “Brown thinks I’m controlling the cats,” he said. “I’ll go talk to him.”

  “You can’t go out there!” Melissa exclaimed, grabbing firmly on to Morton’s shoulder. “Did you see what those cats just did to that rubber-boot monster?”

  Morton paused on the edge of the porch and looked out at the sea of cats.

  “I don’t think they’ll eat me,” Morton said.

  “It’s not worth the risk!” Melissa insisted.

  “But the moon’s getting low in the sky,” Robbie said. “We have to do something.”

  Morton looked over at the half-human form of James, who was staring in bewildered silence, panting heavily.

  “You’re going to have to trust me,” Morton said, looking back at Melissa.

  Melissa chewed her lip nervously, then nodded and released Morton’s shoulder. “Okay, you’re right,” she said. “Do what you have to do.”

  Without another moment’s pause Morton marched bravely across the lawn. More than a hundred heads and two hundred ears were swaying and twitching patiently, like one giant four-hundred-legged pancake of fur. He stepped right up to the edge of the pack. The cats seemed oblivious to his presence. Every glowing eye, be it cat, Grunt, Hydra Snake, or Zombie Twin, remained fixed on Brown.

  His heart pounding, Morton pushed his right foot into the hot mass of bodies. The animals didn’t stir. He then did the same with his left foot and the cats merely shifted aside. Breathing a sigh of relief, he continued to push his way silently through the cats. After what seemed like forever, Morton eased his way out of the other side and stood within arm’s reach of Brown.

  “Nicely done, Morton,” Brown said, regaining some of his composure. “But you haven’t won yet. I’d say we have a stalemate.”

  Morton looked behind him. A galaxy of green eyes glittered back. There was no escape for Brown.

  “I can’t call them off,” Morton said, turning to face Brown. “I’m not controlling them.”

  “Don’t try to bluff a con man, Morton. I know those red-eyed little men are your toys.”

  “Yes,” Morton said. “They are my toys, but I’m not controlling them. Please, you have to believe me.”

  Morton glanced desperately up at the moon again, the bottom of which was now dipping behind the rooftops.

  “If not you, then who?” Brown said, also noticing the moon’s dangerously low position. “Wait, don’t tell me,” he hissed angrily. “It’s King, isn’t it? The mad, dead fool come back to haunt me.”

  “I think so,” Morton said.

  “How? How could he have come back?”

  Morton shook his head nervously. “I don’t know for sure, but I have an idea. You said yourself that the sacrificed person puts their mark on the wishes.”

  “Not to that extent,” Brown said dismissively.

  “I know, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. You see, King was the human sacrifice that activated the gargoyle and then, in a weird way, all the wishes were wishes that came out of his imagination.”

  “How so?”

  “We all wished for things from the comic, from his comic. James wished to be a Snarf, which is a mythical creature King invented. I wished all the other monsters he invented to life, including the Zombie Twins, and Melissa wished for an infinitely large closet, which it turns out was an idea she got when reading another one of King’s stories. So in a weird way King is tied up in the whole thing, and I think, well, I don’t know how, but I think he’s controlling the Zombie Twins. And I hate to say it, but I think he’s really mad at you.”

  Brown swallowed hard, the smug expression completely gone from his face. His eyes began to dart wildly in his head. “If that’s true, then I might as well throw these down the well,” he said bitterly, swinging the pouch in his hand. “King would never let me leave here alive.”

  “No!” Morton said. “I don’t think that’s true. If there’s one thing I learned from his stories, it’s that two wrongs don’t make a right, ever. King didn’t believe in revenge.”

  “You’re just saying that!” Brown spat.

  “No, it’s true. In all the stories where people tried to get revenge, they ended up dead or worse. Look, the cats are calm now. If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead already. I think if you get down, ever so slowly, and take my hand, maybe we can get you inside where it’s safe, reverse the wishes, and then it will all be over.”

  “You’ll turn me in though!” Brown said hotly.

  Morton nodded. “Yes. Yes, we will. But we can vouch for you. We’ll tell them you did the right thing in the end. Everyone makes mistakes, right?”

  “So you’ll throw me to Sharpe instead of the cats?”

  Morton held his gaze. “I think even you’d rather take your chances with Sharpe this time.”

  Brown looked back at the moon and then at the two skull-faced creatures hovering just in front of the now-silent cats.

  “Is that true, King?” he called tauntingly. “Are you hiding behind those red eyes, laughing at me? Always one step ahead, weren’t you?”

  “We don’t have much time,” Morton said anxiously.

  Brown nodded. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

  Morton reached out to grab Brown’s arm. Brown hesitated.

  “It will be safer if we’re together,” Morton urged. “Just don’t make any sudden movements.”

  “Sudden like this!” Brown said, kicking Morton in the stomach and sending him reeling backward into the soft living mattress of cats behind him.

  “No!” Morton yelled, but Brown was already running, despite his bad leg. He hobbled to the side of th
e house where he instantly leaped up and once again, like a human fly, clambered impossibly up the vertical wall.

  The cats went suddenly berserk, hissing and spitting with insane fury and throwing themselves against the wall of the house. But he was already several feet above the ground and climbing fast. The Zombie Twins’ eyes burst into red beacons that shone like searchlights onto the rapidly escaping Brown. Brown didn’t look back. He kept on climbing and was almost at the roof of the house when he stopped and gasped with fear. Morton, still lying on the lawn, could see everything. Two venomous giant spiders, each the size of a baseball mitt, with grotesque hairy pincers and six glassy, emotionless eyes, crawled from the gutters and darted toward Brown. He screamed and twisted clumsily sideways, lost his grip, and tumbled to the ground, landing with a loud thump. Morton thought for a horrible moment that he’d broken his back, but a second later he was on his feet again and attempting to run.

  That was the last mistake Rodney Brown ever made.

  In one efficient and chilling motion, a hundred cats washed over him. Morton heard a muted scream from beneath the deadly mound of fur, saw Brown’s flailing form thrash hopelessly, and then, like the final ghastly act in a demonic conjurer’s trick, the mound shrank to nothing and the cats slipped away, leaving not so much as a single hair behind.

  For the second time the previously ferocious animals resumed passive sitting positions and began licking their paws and cleaning their whiskers like perfect pets in a TV commercial. The Zombie Twins drifted forward and hovered over the spot where Brown had once been.