Lucas Ryan Versus: The Hive Part 5

"You're going to kill me!" I said, petrified.

She leaped onto what was left of my bed with a wicked pout on her face, "Kill you?"

"Yes," I said.

"Yay for me!" she screamed.

Outside my bedroom window came a buzzing. It sounded as if a dozen chainsaws were about to explode. It grew louder, hurting my ears. I covered them instinctively, but it didn't help. The horrible sound kept growing. Felicity seemed to not be affected by it at all. Lucky her. And just when I couldn't take the sound anymore, the window exploded inside the bedroom. The pieces of jagged gla.s.s ricocheted off everything in the room, bouncing around like a million little rubber b.a.l.l.s. They never stopped. I held still and waited to be cut into pieces.

"All right! She's going to squash him like a bug!" a familiar, but unwelcome voice hollered through the window frame. My irritating and nosy neighbors, the Anderson's, had joined the party.

"Mr. Anderson?" I whispered.

"Hit him again!" Mrs. Anderson cheered. What the h.e.l.l was going on? Felicity obeyed their requests, quickly.

"Okay!" she said, with a thumbs up. Another wild swing rushed through the air. Her smile never faded. This time she connected with my ribs and stomach, sending me flying across my room. I hit the far wall with a dull thud. All three of them bellowed with evil laughter. Stars filled my sight as blood gushed inside my mouth. The pain radiated along my spine, tickling the ends of my legs down to my toes. I tried to speak, but coughed out a splat of blood instead. This dream had just crossed the line into nightmare territory. I was done. Wake me up, please.

She slowly walked up to me with the hammer across her shoulders, and continued her interrogation. "Tell me your secret."

"I can't," I grumbled, in pain.

"Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!" she chanted, and raised the giant mallet over her head. Its shadow covered me as I sat up grasping my chest.

"No!" I spit. Her eyes filled with red fire that teased the freckles along her cheeks. The room was spinning now, but I managed to pull myself up again. She didn't like that at all.

"I...will...break...YOU!" her voice echoed everywhere. "Tell! Me!"

"I won't tell you anything, I'll only tell Olivia," I pouted. Her hands tightened around the handle of the mallet. She puckered her lips and lifted up onto her tippy toes again.

"She'll only tear you to pieces and break your heart," she warned, in a haunting whisper. The warning echoed off of every wall in my bedroom. That was the second time someone had said those words to me. I filled with a new doubt.

"I'll take that chance."

"Idiot!" she coughed, and pulled back her oversized weapon, as far as possible. I closed my eyes and waited for her final blow. One-second pa.s.sed. Then another, and another, but the hammer never fell. From the darkness, a whisper spun through the room and the pain in my chest disappeared.

"Give me your heart and your soul," Olivia sang to me. I opened my eyes to find her floating up to me. Her hair trailed behind her as if she were under water. Gone were the fiery red eyes from before, and in their place were big, brown eyes. I stole a quick glance around the room. Felicity was gone and so were the prying eyes of my neighbors.

"Tell me," she insisted, softly. Her hands slipped along my cheeks and she smiled.

"Olivia?" I asked, not believing or understanding this crazy night. Her smile grew wider.

* Tell her. *

I stared into her warm face long and hard. Her smile never wavered.

* Tell her Lucas. We can trust her. *

The voice in my head settled my nerves. I leaned into Olivia, carefully.

"Okay," I gave in, with a long sigh. She bit her bottom lip and stepped closer to me. Her face was only an inch away from mine. I inhaled a deep breath and began to speak.

BUZZZZZZ - BUZZZZZZ - BUZZZZZZ - BUZZ!.

I sat up quickly in my bed with my arms wrapped around my pillow. It, along with my sheets and mattress, were soaked in sweat. Franticly, I looked around my bedroom, trying to settle my nerves.

"Olivia?" I yelled out. My room was dark and empty. Everything looked normal, no damage anywhere.

BUZZZZZZ - BUZZ - BUZZZZZZ!.

I focused on the unwelcome sound coming from the floor. The buzzing was coming from a crumbled up pair of jeans. It was my cell phone. I reached down to s.n.a.t.c.h it from the pocket when a sobering thought hit me. It was all a dream. Olivia, Felicity, the pain...it was all a demented dream.

BUZZZZZZ - BUZZ!.

Then I remembered I never ever set my phone to the vibrate setting. Never. In my hand the phone kept shaking with a bright red heart flashing along the screen. It reminded me of a heartbeat. Below the blinking image was the word 'UNKNOWN' and my cell phone number. How could my phone be calling itself? Even as drowsy as I was, I remembered the collision with Olivia in the auditorium, earlier in the day.

I had mixed up our phones. She had mine and I had hers. Gently, I swiped the screen with my finger and answered the call.

"h.e.l.lo."

"You gave me the wrong phone," Olivia stated the obvious. She sounded annoyed. I didn't care though, because I was still imagining her from my dream.

* Tell her. *

"Sorry about that," I said, nervously. My voice cracked.

"I'll get it from you tomorrow," she said.

"Okay." I wasn't sure how to begin, or exactly what to say.

"Until then..." She tried to end the call.

"Wait!" I called out, with a clinched fist.

A few silent seconds ticked by. "What is it?" she finally asked.

I froze for a moment, scared again. "I wanted to tell you...something..."

"It's late. Tell me tomorrow." Click. The line went dead. Staring at the blank screen of her phone, my heart sunk a little. Maybe I was kidding myself. I had spent all these years a n.o.body to her, why would that change now? Would she even believe my story?

"Tomorrow," I whispered. I let out a long yawn and popped a few bones in my back. With the nightmare still fresh in my mind, I knew I wouldn't be getting much sleep the rest of the night. Why was Felicity in my dream? I'll never forget those eyes. A thin chill slithered down my spine.

I hopped out of bed and made my way downstairs for a much needed drink and a snack. When I returned with my bowl of Cheetos and Cherry 7-Up, I was surprised to see what was waiting for me. Olivia's phone was lit up with a flashing screen. A new text message had appeared, waiting to be open on the phone. Carefully, I picked it up and realized that the message had been sent from my phone number. Olivia had sent me a message. I opened it in a split second and read...

____________________.

'THANX 4 COMING 2 THE SHOW 2NITE. O'

____________________.

My chest popped with excitement and a tiny sliver of hope.

LEVEL 08: Every Day Is Exactly The Same.

I felt frozen. Paralyzed by the sight in front of me. I managed to force my feet forward. They stumbled over themselves, staggering through the front doors of the high school. There were police officers everywhere; in the streets, in the parking lot, inside the school. Two rather large officers stood quiet and observant at each side of the doors. They watched me with anxious stares. I tried my best to not make eye contact with either of them. Sirens rang out from behind me as an ambulance and firetruck pulled up. The two officers closed the doors quickly, shielding my view. What was going on here? If there was such a big emergency, why were they still letting students into the building?

There was another officer down the hall questioning students. As I made my way down the hall for a better look things started to feel different. Everyone I pa.s.sed by would shoot me an accusing glare. I had a bad feeling about all of this. Something was very wrong. The overwhelming truth that this was somehow my fault, numbed me.

"Just breathe," I said. Get to your locker and the stone. Just grab the thing and go home. You've done nothing wrong. I tightened my grip around the strap of my backpack and pushed through the congested hallway.

* Leave now. *

Oh great, not now. A slow tingle slid along my fingers. My right hand had felt weird since early this morning. I just thought I had hurt it in last nights adventures, but as I looked at my fingertips, I remembered it was the same hand I had touched the mysterious stone with. Only ten yards from my locker, a fever scurried up my arm. Did that thing infect me?

* Turn and run. *

I ignored the warning in my head and pushed on. I had no time for insanity this morning.

* Run. Now. *

My hand started to throb as I stepped up to the section of lockers that housed my secret. If only I had listened to the voice in my head.

"Is that him?" an angry officer asked. Three other police in full uniform positioned themselves on both sides of me. In the middle of the quartet stood Felicity. She nodded her head yes.

"Are you sure?" another officer asked, with his hand shaking at his side.

"Yes." She looked terrified, but happy enough to turn me in. But for what? I had done nothing illegal. She was lucky the four officers were there as I felt my face fill with red hot hate. My archenemy had crossed the line this time. Before I could unleash my wrath, my eyes focused on the lockers behind Felicity. My heart stopped. Against my locker door was a collection of weapons, huddled together in a mess of steel. A couple pocket knives of different shapes and sizes, a large hunting knife and four handguns. Even the heavy emergency ax from the big red box on the wall stuck there as if magnetized. Positioned all over the metal door like the magnets on my refrigerator at home.

"Are you Lucas Ryan?" the first officer asked, annoyed. He stepped towards me cautiously. That's when I noticed all four cops were missing their weapons. Four empty holsters dangled from their sides.

* Run. *

"Is this your locker, boy?" he asked, angry. A large lump slid down my dry throat. I stupidly nodded yes. They pushed Felicity out of the way and surrounded me completely. One lifted his police radio and called out to whoever was in charge.

"He's here, we have him secure."

From the speaker came a voice I would never forget. It was ridiculously cheerful with a slight raspy overtone. "Bring him to me."

"Come with me, boy," he ordered. His big hands grabbed my arms and turned me toward the office. Another officer yanked at my backpack. The tingle in my hand had now become an itch. It was time to fight back.

"Wait! What's going on? What did I do?" I yelled. He tried to shove me forward, but I locked my feet in place. Felicity watched from a distance with disbelief.

* Fight. *

My body tensed up all over. Aggression bubbled to life within me. With a protective stance I fought the new desire to smash my bag into the officer's face. Did my new bravery come from my fear, or the talking gem in my locker? I pushed myself backwards with more force. Forcefully, a second officer latched onto my other arm.

"Please, do not resist!"

* Fight! Now! *

My hands balled into fists around the straps of my backpack as my body swelled with a strange and powerful inner strength. This must be how Dr. Banner feels before hulking out and destroying everything. This was happening! I was going to fight back! Lucas SMASH! My eyesight tightened to a razor-sharp focus and my blood pressure raced. But before I had a chance to release the smack-down, a student walking by started screaming at the top of his lungs. TWACK! His whole body zoomed past us and smashed against my locker.

"Help! What the h.e.l.l?" he called out, reaching for the police officers. They watched in wide-eyed horror as the boy was pinned by his school bag that tightly held him inside of its straps. The bag and zippers pushed against the metal as if they were one. He tried to look over his shoulder at the locker door, but couldn't turn his head enough. He tried to reach behind his back and free the clasps on the straps, but it was useless. He was locked in, nice and tight. He would need to be cut free. He dangled from the locker door like a flinching rag doll, inches off the ground, kicking and screaming.

"Please, help me!"

I ripped an arm free from my captive and quickly reached out to the kid. My hand found the release b.u.t.ton on the bags straps and when I pushed it, they opened without any trouble. The student fell to the ground in tears with a thud.

* His name is Grant. *

"What's happening?" he stuttered, trying to find his legs again. I pulled him to his feet just before the officer secured my arm again.

"It'll be okay, Grant," I said, softly.

"How did you know my name?" he gasped.

"Umm...lucky guess..." I coughed. "What's in your bag?"

"Nothing," he whimpered.

"Are you sure?" I asked, again. The officers tightened their grasp a little.

"Just my books and some supplies for Biology cla.s.s." Grant started to cry. I felt horrible. What was in my locker? What had I set in motion here? My hand began to ache, softly. The police officers looked at me in confusion and possible hate. With an extreme shove, they directed me towards the office at the end of the hallway. I didn't resist them this time.

* We will fight. We will win. *

The sea of curious students and teachers parted as we made our way for the office. Felicity stared at me with guilty eyes before fading into the distance. Was I dreaming again? None of this made any sense.

I had spent the last fifteen minutes locked in Princ.i.p.al Garner's office, handcuffed to his desk. I sat with my head lowered toward to the floor. I was so lost in my rushing thoughts, that I didn't even notice when someone joined me in the makeshift prison cell.

"What's in your locker, Mr. Ryan?" It was the same eerie voice I heard earlier, over the police radios. In person, the man's voice was even more strange. I lifted my head to get a better look at my interrogator.

"Who are you?" I asked, bluntly. The tall, bald man looked down at me with a calculated smile that was as disturbing as it was welcoming. His teeth were perfect, exceptional. Like a spokesmodel on your favorite daytime gameshow. His eyes were dark brown, almost black and slightly sunken in his serious brow. He was missing part of his right ear. It looked unhealthy and gross. I focused my attention back to his alligator smile, trying to forget the image of his ear. He was dressed in a black military uniform like I had never seen before. The smell of coffee and bad aftershave filled my nose.

"That depends on you, Mr. Ryan. I could be your best ally, or your worst enemy," he said, and his brow fell forward with authority. I glanced down at the unnecessary handcuffs, giving them a tiny jingle and said nothing. He was crazy if he thought I would cooperate while being treated like a criminal. He nodded in understanding.

"They call me, Love," he smiled. "General Love." I watched him confused and scared. I saw no markings along his uniform. No stars, no stripes...nothing.

"General?" I asked. A small but obvious grin escaped my lips at the thought of his ridiculous name.

"You find something...funny?" he asked, as if he were in on the joke.