The Well Part 14

Don't look down.

Don't look down.

s.h.i.t. I'd looked.

My pulse double-timed and I tightened my grip on the downspout. Okay. How was I going to get from here- To there?

A whole lot of break-my-back-and-kill-me distance?

I looked down again. Oh man, no way. I'd sooner risk the wrath of Sam than jump.

Then I heard the laughter. Cool and calm, as if it knew. Knew I was too chicken to make that leap.

Oh, Cooper. Are you too scared to come out and play?

It knew where I was. It knew what I was doing. Somehow it saw me. How? And why me?

Come on, Cooper, come join us. Megan's waiting, painfully waiting.

A grenade of fury detonated in my gut. I wanted to take that creature and twist its neck until it laughed itself to death. I wanted to pummel it, stomp it, stab it, just destroy it. Everything within me boiled with anger. "Don't you touch her. Don't you f-"

I'll do whatever I want. I'm in control. More laughter. Not you.

Megan was going to die if I didn't do something and soon. That knowledge made ice race through me, a ma.s.sive Arctic front freezing every vein, every major organ.

I stood up, gritted my teeth, and jumped.

For one long second, I was tumbling into the well again, pushed by my mother to my death. I opened my mouth to scream, the terror clawing its way out of my gut and up my throat, but before the sound could escape, I landed with a hard thud and a hundred painful pokes.

In the shrubs.

For the first time since I'd moved into Castle a la Sam, I sent up a silent thanks for the megalandscaping. The man may have been a jerk, but his overage on the lawn had just saved my b.u.t.t.

Literally.

I started climbing out of the shrubs, pushing off their clawing branches. The motion-sensor lights sprang to life, flooding the backyard like a watchdog on high alert. I crouched down, scanning for Sam.

Silly Cooper, he's not looking for you. I am.

I jerked back, landing farther into the shrubs. The creature laughed, as if it could see my pathetic attempt at cover. As if I were three years old and thought playing peekaboo behind a Dixie plate meant my father couldn't see me.

Then I saw the vines, the slimy, mossy spider web of green that had somehow leapfrogged across the lawn, maybe while I had been too busy being scared to jump off the roof. It zigged and zagged through the gra.s.s, under the bushes, then up and over the branches, as if it was searching, almost a Sniffing.

Impossible.

But then again, what the h.e.l.l had been sane about this whole thing?

I tried to back up, but the bushes were dense. Nowhere to go. I started to climb up and over them, but the web's reach climbed, too, faster than me, its natural tentacles reaching for me like some love-crazed Jonas Brothers fan.

I pushed through the shrubs, even as they tried to scratch and claw at me. One of my Vans caught on a twig and slipped off, hanging in the thick green like a wounded soldier.

I kept going, my arms and legs working like a steam engine, climbing and clawing, until I finally hit gra.s.s, the well's vines hurdling over themselves to get to me. I spun back, reached into the shrubbery for my sneaker, and grabbed it just as one of the web things broke off from the pack and hurtled itself outward like a giant bright green kamikaze loogie. With a grunt, I threw my body back and tumbled across the gra.s.s, landing out of its reach.

For now.

I looked back at the house, sure I'd see Sam on the deck, ready to drag my a.s.s back inside.

Instead, I saw something that scared me ten times more.

My mother, standing on the bottom step of the deck stairs, watching everything that had happened. And staring at me with an intensity bordering on painful.

Then she started walking toward me. I put on my sneaker. Everything in my brain said run, but my body didn't move. It was glued to the gra.s.s by the stupid half that kept hoping the whole thing was a mistake. That she was going to come out here and help me, not feed me to the lions. "Cooper," she said.

I didn't respond.

"Cooper." She got closer. Four feet away. Three feet. Now I could see her eyes and read the scary gla.s.siness, the almost hypnotic trance.

The one I knew. Too well.

This wasn't the mom who would save me. This wasn't the mom who would tuck me into bed at night. This wasn't the mom who wanted to give me a cookie and a kiss on the cheek.

This was the mom who wanted to kill me.

My vision blurred and I shook my head, swallowing the bitter taste of betrayal. I found the sense to back up, to keep the s.p.a.ce between us far enough that she couldn't touch me. Beneath my feet, I heard a crunch, felt the curl of the well's vines tickle at my ankles. I sidestepped, but they kept pace with me. Penned to the right and the left, and my mother in front of me.

And behind me, I felt the creature watching with its universal eye. Watching, waiting. With Megan somewhere down there, trapped and terrified.

"Come with me, Cooper." My mother put out her hand, as gently as she used to when I was a kid and she wanted me to get in the car or cross the street with her. "I'd like to introduce you to a friend."

Laughter carried on the wind. At my feet, the vines held their ground, as if waiting for orders.

"No." I shook my head some more and kept backing up, even though I couldn't see her anymore because I was crying. "No, Mom. No."

"You have to, Cooper." She advanced on me, her voice sterner now. No nonsense. The tone that used to tell me to mind my manners and not talk back. As my mother moved, the green vines twisted in and around her feet, but not as if they were catching her-more as though they were becoming part of her. She went on moving and talking, not even noticing. "You have to come. Now."

The chill in her voice and the flatness of her eyes had me seriously freaked. But it was the way the slimy vines of the well had become one with my mother that sent my terror meter over the edge. "Mom, stop, please. Please, please just stop."

She paused midstep, and for a second, that stupid bird of hope took flight in my chest again. "I wish I could," she said, her voice softer, as if there was a battle inside her and this was the voice of the real mom, trying to get out-but then her eyes glittered again, and I knew the battle was being lost. "But he needs you, Cooper. He needs you bad."

Then she lunged for me, both arms out like some twisted kind of hug. Come to Mama.

So I can kill you.

I spun on my heel, rubber soles slipping on the gra.s.s and knocking me to the ground. I pushed off with my hands, feeling the whisper of my mother's grip against the back of my head as I gained traction and put distance between us. I didn't look back; I didn't stop. I ran.

As if my life depended on it, because it was no freakin' cliche.

As I left the yard and headed into the woods, I heard a scream so high-pitched, it pierced my skull like an ice pick. For a second I thought it was Megan, and then I realized the sound had come from behind me and was the kind of scream that spelled seriously p.i.s.sed off.

The sound rolled like a wave, then grew louder. I wheeled around and saw my mother, hauling b.u.t.t across the lawn as though someone had set fire to her feet. The well's slimy web minions kept pace beside her, their range growing and spreading, as if searching the lawn for any trace of me. Any minute, she would reach me, and I had no doubt what she would do with me when she found me.

I fumbled in my pocket for Faulkner's cell phone. I ducked behind a tree and dialed the house line, praying that Sam had already left for the hospital and wouldn't pick up. One ring.

My mother, her footsteps pounding on the gra.s.s.

Two rings.

She'd made it halfway across the lawn. Now the screaming had stopped, but she seemed to be moving faster. I slid lower against the tree. And prayed.

Three rings.

She was just inside the woods now-what the h.e.l.l? Did she suddenly have superhuman running powers?-and had paused to scan the trees. The vines spread out at her feet, laying a quiet, evil blanket of green across the forest floor. I sucked in a breath and wished I could disappear.

A fourth ring began, and just when I was sure the answering machine would pick up, Faulkner answered, his voice sleepy and annoyed. "What?"

"It's me, Cooper," I said.

"I know. Why do you have my cell phone?"

"I'm in the woods," I whispered. "And Mom is-" I stopped talking. She'd heard me and was moving in my direction. I flipped the phone shut, told myself I'd given Faulkner enough information, that he would believe me this time please, please, believe me-and come find me, then scrambled away from the tree in what I hoped was something close to a guerrilla style.

I lay flat on the ground and wriggled through leaves and twigs, wishing I'd spent more than two years in Boy Scouts. If I had, maybe I'd have been more prepared for something like this.

Except all the canoe trips and camping lessons in the world wouldn't have helped. They didn't exactly have How to Kill the Monster in Your Backyard ioi in the manual. And between the pledge and the snacks, they definitely didn't cover how to keep your mother from strangling you to death.

I chanced a glance over my shoulder. She seemed lost, as if she couldn't see me through the trees or as if by being low, I'd thrown her off the track. Whichever, I didn't care. I just kept wriggling, moving forward a foot at a time, with one thought on my mind now.

Megan.

I knew where she was. And I knew there was only one way to get her back. To go down there and do what I should have done the first time. Kill that thing before it killed her.

If- And I could barely think this thought without losing my mind- If it hadn't already.

He could barely contain his antic.i.p.ation. The boy was so close and so ready. One more day. That's all the creature had to wait. Surely he could lure Cooper down here and then hold him until tomorrow night?

The wait would make the later prize that much sweeter, after all. Blood that had sat and stewed in fear tasted oh so much better than freshly surprised blood. And Cooper would be so much more a Motivated to do what needed to be done by then, too. That was what Auguste needed. A willing sacrifice. But until then a He needed to eat. To keep his strength up-no, to empower his skills. The one who fed him would be angry that he had already plucked the fruit of the vineyard's humans, an act that had been forbidden. But the creature needed to expand his skills, to further his reach, if he was ever going to capture Cooper. And for that he needed more than those tiny dead human meals that he sent down.

All the others that had come before him had treated the creature well. Had thanked him for his gifts of the land, the blessings of wealth, and, most of all, his sacrifice. Had treated his home with love, respect. But not this one. This one treated the creature with disdain. With a hatred. For that, he would pay.

But first, the creature needed a meal. Not another old man. Bleh. That sounded as appetizing as the rats skittering at his feet. Perhaps the thing he'd been keeping in the back, his special surprise for Cooper? No, no. He'd wait. Hold it a use it as a draw. In case the girl wasn't enough.

No, what he wanted now was something fresh and young. Something that would let him taste fear. Like the girl. Or like a The mother.

Once Cooper was here, she would have served her purpose, wouldn't she have? She'd been nothing but a bother anyway, fighting him every step of the way, trying to pretend she loved that pathetic Cooper.

When they both knew Cooper had been bred for a single purpose. She had merely been the womb, the carrier for the creature's sp.a.w.n. How appropriate, then, that she die- As part of his quest for life?

After all, she'd given birth to his regeneration. He would lure her down here and give her the thank-you she deserved for the gift she had given him.

Death. For his life.

What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

A pair of shiny boots met my face. I stopped skulking along the edge of the woods, looking for a way out, and looked up into the mug of Sergeant Ring. I guess he hadn't knocked off for the day after all. "Nothin'."

He snorted. "Right. And I'm out here looking for alien life forms." He waved at me. "Get your a.s.s up."

I did. I considered pulling a StepScrooge Sam and calling Sergeant Ring on the fact that he wasn't even supposed to be on the property, but I didn't want to p.i.s.s him off even more. And besides, chances were he was too drunk to remember he even needed a little thing like a warrant anyway. He gestured at my back. "What's in the bag?"

Oh, c.r.a.p. "Homework."

"This late?"

"I'm heading to a friend's house to work on a report. For"-I glanced down at the leaves and twigs, searching them for a believable lie, one that would keep Sergeant Ring away from my bag and me out of jail-"science."

"Why don't I believe you?"

I wanted to give him some wise remark back but knew if I did, that would make him search me, and right now I had a knife in my backpack and something even more d.a.m.ning-Megan's bandanna. This was not a time to do anything but be cool and polite. I tried to look around, without being too obvious, for my mother.

I didn't see her. Or hear her. Or see the well's web anywhere. Maybe the cop's showing up had scared them all off.

Or maybe they were just waiting for the cop to leave so we could all go back to that oh so fun and festive kill-or-bekilled game.

For a moment I considered fessing up and bringing him to the well, getting him to help me rescue Megan. Then I heard it. A threat that scared me more than Sam's promises of endless ch.o.r.es ever could.

Get him out of here, Cooper. Or you'll never see Megan again.

I gulped. "I'm sorry, sir," I said. With cops and other people's dads, I figured you could never go wrong saying sir a lot. "I know it looks weird and all, but I have to do this report on dirt and leaves. Mr. Spinale is really into the whole green thing. Wants us to know our world."

Sergeant Ring crossed his arms over his gut. "You weren't hiding from me?"

"I didn't even know you were there." I looked him in the eye. No lie.

He didn't believe me. At all. A preschooler could have seen that in his face. "I thought I heard someone scream back here."

"A scream?" I pretended to think. "Oh, yeah. There's this crazy bird in our woods. I don't know what it is, but it sounds like Michael Jackson on a sugar high."

Sergeant Ring let out a half laugh, half snort. "Yeah, Mike and I got one of those birds, too, up at our lake cottage. You been there before with us?"

"Uh a no, sir." I glanced up, as if looking for the bird. No Mom. No Faulkner, either. Had she gotten to him? Or had he somehow convinced her to go home?

And then finally, in the distance, I saw my mother and Faulkner heading to the house. Faulkner sent me a thumbsup behind my mother's back, all while talking to her. I didn't know how he'd done it. Relief ran through me. Now all I had to do was ditch the cop and get back to looking for Megan.

"Yeah," Sergeant Ring said. "Just when you're asleep, those birds do that, and you think someone's being killed." He laughed again as if this were the most hilarious thing that could ever happen.

Even as he acted like my best friend, he still had that "I don't trust you" gleam in his eyes. Or maybe it was a Jack Daniel's shine. I didn't know. I just had to leave. "I, ah, got to get to my friend's house. Do that report."

"For science."