Fangboy. Part 16

"No."

"Nor would I. You may remove the leaf."

Nathan peeled the leaf off his arm. The wound had healed. "How did you do that?"

"Strong leaf. Walk the path of the righteous and all will be well. When you leave my hut, follow the sun until it drops below the horizon, and then walk north until you reach a path. It is a well-traveled path, and soon somebody will find you."

"Thank you, sir."

"No, thank you, for allowing me to fulfill my purpose. G.o.d be with you."

Nathan left the hut. He had no food or water, but he knew that he would make it. He need only- "I've got you!" snarled Professor Kleft, grabbing Nathan by the back of the neck. "Dark times are ahead, I promise you that!"

SIXTEEN.

Coach repair was not a skill that Kleft possessed in abundance, though to be fair, he never would have tried to claim otherwise. The coach wobbled and creaked and the horses had a terrible time trying to drag it on only two wheels. He was also not a skilled driver, though the horses were more or less traveling in a direction similar to the one he wanted.

Nathan sat next to him. His wrists were bound together with thick rope, as were his feet. He wore a tight gag. Kleft had not been gentle with the tying and gagging process.

"You're lucky I didn't kill you," said Kleft. He'd said this at least a dozen times. "You've ruined the coach and made me shoot my driver. I rescued you. Don't you see that? I showed up to give you a better life, and this is how you repay me, by creating a situation in which I was forced to accidentally kill a man who was only trying to do his job? Do you feel that was a grand gesture on your part?"

Nathan said nothing, since he was gagged and not in a position to hold up his end of the conversation.

"His death is on your conscience," said Kleft. "When you close your eyes and see his screaming face, you will know that it's your fault he lies buried in a shallow grave."

Kleft had made this point, including the part about the screaming face, at least fourteen times. Nathan didn't expect him to tire of making it any time soon.

"Uncomfortable things await you in the afterlife. Uncomfortable things indeed." Then he shrugged. "But, best not to dwell on them, I suppose. Are you hungry? Would you like some beef jerky?"

Nathan nodded, because he knew that Kleft would have to remove the gag in order to feed him, which might allow Nathan the opportunity to work out some sort of brilliant escape.

"To h.e.l.l with you!" said Kleft. "All of the beef jerky is going into my own stomach!"

But as the journey progressed, Kleft's mood seemed to brighten. Then a third wheel popped free of the coach, and his mood soured again. When the fourth wheel came off, he let the horses drag the coach along the ground for a few miles (the horses, it must be repeated, were unharmed and found themselves enjoying the exercise) until he finally gave up and they rode the rest of the way directly on the horses' backs. Nathan had long-fantasized about riding a horse, though in his fantasies he was not tied up and gagged and bouncing around so hard that his legs had become one giant bruise.

"At last we have arrived," said Kleft, as they rode through a large town called Apple Falls. They pa.s.sed inns, restaurants, churches, cemeteries, and a sinister playground before turning onto a long, winding road. At the end, there was a small building, constructed with odd angles and six different types of wood, upon which hung a blood-red sign: Professor Mongrel's Theatre of the Macabre.

Nathan frowned and said something inquisitive.

"What's that?" asked Kleft, tugging down the gag.

"I thought it was Professor Kleft's Parade of the Macabre."

"It will be," he said. His face darkened. "Someday."

The front door opened, and a short, plump man in a black suit and top hat waddled out.

"Kleft! Where in the blazes have you been?" he shouted.

"I apologize, sir," said Kleft. "There were complications."

"What in the blazes have you done to my coach?"

"That was among the complications."

"That enrages me." He looked at Nathan. "Is that the fang-toothed boy?"

"Yes."

"Clearly he also possesses superhuman strength. I'm thankful those ropes kept him from overpowering you. Untie him, you fool."

Kleft muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath, then knelt down and began to untie the rope around Nathan's feet.

The man waddled over to them. "Your name had better be Nathan Pepper," he said.

Nathan nodded.

"And when you open your mouth immediately after I complete this sentence, your teeth had better be frightening."

Nathan opened his mouth. The man's eyes widened and he took a step back. "By the serpents of Medusa, I expected them to be only half as scary!" Then he smiled. "Fine work, a.s.sistant Kleft, fine work. I'll deduct fewer coins from your pay this week."

"Thank you, sir," said Kleft, tossing aside the first rope and going to work on the one that bound Nathan's wrists.

"What happened to the driver?"

"He was slain."

"Slain?"

"Slain by this beast of a boy. Do you remember that our driver had a throat when we left?"

"I do."

"Well, that all changed."

"Goodness."

"The boy went at him in a frenzy of fangs and fingernails. So much blood. Apparently all it takes is the utterance of certain common English words-I dare not say which ones-to ignite his kill-l.u.s.t. Our driver was brave, but bravery doesn't do much for a man when his windpipe is exposed for the world to see. So very much blood. It took five men to stop him, not including myself, and if you were to see what those five men look like now, your stomach would churn and you would let out a cry of revulsion. 'Disgusting!' you would shout. 'Better that these poor souls should be put out of their misery than to live such a disfigured existence.' So very, very much blood. It took nearly eight buckets of water to clean the boy up after that rampage. Look at the way he stares at you, like a tiger or a shark sizing up its prey. It chills me."

"None of that is true," said Nathan.

"And he speaks lies!" said Kleft. "You sent me on an errand to retrieve an untruthful killing machine. That I am not dead myself is a miracle for which I will be thanking the supreme being for decades to come."

"Enough," said the man. "When I asked about the driver, I was seeking an answer lasting three to five seconds, nothing more." He extended his hand to Nathan. "My name is Professor Mongrel."

Nathan shook it. "Is that your real name?"

"If you're asking if my first name is Professor, no, it is not. And if you're asking if the last name I inherited upon my birth is Mongrel, no, it is not. So the answer to both potential variations on your question is no. But it's the name I use now. Is Nathan Pepper your real name?"

"Yes."

"Unimpressive. You need a stage name. How do you feel about The Appalling Biting Boy?"

"I don't like it."

"Then how about The Appalling Chewing Boy?"

"I don't like that, either."

"The Appalling Munching Boy?"

"No."

"Is it the 'Appalling' part that you dislike?"

"I try not to be appalling."

"Well, we'll break you out of that habit. You can't be part of Professor Mongrel's Theatre of the Macabre and remain socially acceptable."

"I don't want to be part of it," said Nathan. "I want to go home."

"Then go home," said Professor Mongrel. "n.o.body is stopping you."

"Really?"

"Really." Professor Mongrel gave him a bright smile, which suddenly turned dark and sinister. "But you'll have to walk all the way into town. Alone."

"I can do that. I lived in the woods for a year all by myself."

"Oh. I see. I didn't realize that. Then, yes, I'm afraid somebody is stopping you. Let's go meet your new friends, shall we? Kleft, repair that coach."

Mongrel took Nathan by the hand and led him to the building. The front door opened onto a long, dark, hallway that had bare walls and a floor that tilted just a bit to the left.

"Are you scared of spiders?" Mongrel asked as they walked down the hallway, which seemed endless.

"Not really."

"Are you scared of eating spiders?"

Nathan had honestly never thought about that. "I wouldn't want to do it, if I could help it."

"Oh, you should, and you will. When I heard about the miracle fang-toothed boy, I said to myself, 'That's a boy who should be eating spiders in front of my audience.' Finish them off in ten bites. One for each leg, one for the abdomen, and then flash the customers a fang-toothed grin before you pop the head into your mouth and chew away. Entertainment!"

"That's cruel!"

"What, to the spider? Don't be silly. Spiders don't have nerve endings. Besides, I thought little boys enjoyed tormenting arachnids."

"I don't like hurting anything."

"Is that why you were in jail for nearly biting somebody's arm off?"

Nathan was horrified. Had his exploits really been exaggerated that much? Had news travelled across the land that he was some sort of barbarian? "I didn't bite it off!"

"Nearly."

"No. Almost all of his arm was left. I didn't swallow a thing. It wasn't at all what you were told."

Mongrel shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Whether you reduced his arm to a skeletal stalk or merely clipped his fingernails in an unorthodox manner, we will sell you to an audience looking to get their half-coin's worth. 'If He Weren't Eating These Spiders, He'd Be Eating You.'"

They were still walking down the hallway, which seemed to be narrowing. Nathan was finding it difficult to breathe.

Oh, such terrible misfortune! What was he going to do? Eating spiders wasn't going to solve the plight of Penny and Mary. He had to escape!

He didn't want to bite anybody else, but did he have a choice?

He had to act now, before it was too late.

Or was it already too late?

Should he have acted before they walked into the building?

No, because Kleft was outside of the building. If Nathan had acted earlier, he would have had to contend with both Kleft and Mongrel at once. If he acted now, he could contend with Mongrel first, and then Kleft later. That was a much better plan.

The longer he waited, the higher the chances that he'd have other people to contend with.

What if the others were prisoners? What if he could convince them to rise up against their captor? By waiting to act, he could find himself in a much better position for the action he was eventually planning to perform.

Or his position could be much worse.

I really should do something, he thought.

Now?

Soon?

Now.

He opened his mouth wide, showing off every tooth available to him, let out a fearsome roar, and lunged at Mongrel.

The expectation was that Mongrel would recoil in horror, putting just enough distance between the two that Nathan could turn and run back the way they came. Nathan's legs were shorter, but he also had the advantage of youth and the ability to move without waddling, and he was certain he could make it back to the entrance before Mongrel caught up to him. Kleft would not be expecting Nathan to burst out of the building unannounced and would be unprepared to stop him, leaving Nathan simply to run into town for rescue.