The Well Part 8

To die.

I hit the ground with a thud, face smacking against a pile of sticks, pain blasting into my eye, my head. I rolled to the side, slapping at the nature guerrilla attack, as if getting the leaves and branches off would keep the creature off, too.

Suddenly my arm was jerked to one side and I was yanked to my feet. I opened my mouth to scream, ready to face claws and teeth and G.o.d only knew what else on the appendages of that thing, that laughing, talking thing.

But the scream died in my throat, crawled down to my stomach like a crab too terrified to leave its sh.e.l.l.

It wasn't the monster. It was worse.

"Where are you going, Cooper?" my mother asked me. She had come out here in her sweats, her hair all a mess, her makeup still on her face, smudged and looking like racc.o.o.n eyes. An eerie little smile curved up her face. "You shouldn't be out in the woods alone at night. It's dangerous."

She said the last word slowly, breaking apart the syllables like dropping eggs into a bowl. Dane-ger-us.

With a special emphasis on the us.

Her smile widened, showing all her teeth, and her eyes glittered in the dark. Her grip on my arm tightened like a blood-pressure cuff, and I knew there was no going home.

There was only going back to the well.

I opened my mouth, and this time, I didn't scream- I howled in fear.

She dragged me through the woods, her hand on my wrist like a vise grip. I'd never seen her move like this, marching forward as if she didn't see the trees, didn't realize it was dark out, and didn't even know I was there, stumbling behind her.

This wasn't like when I was little and I'd been caught painting the back of the house red. Then, she'd been p.i.s.sed off.

Now she was someone else. Someone who didn't seem to recognize me. Or- Give a c.r.a.p about me.

Her strength was over the top, superhuman, not like Mom at all. This was the woman who had to have someone open the pickle jar, for G.o.d's sake, and now she was hauling me around as though I weighed about as much as a pillow.

I tried to dig in my heels to stop her, tried to peel her fingers off my wrist, but she kept on, a one-way train to the final destination.

The well.

And that a that thing.

"Mom!"

No response. She just kept making headway into the woods.

"Mom! Stop! Ow! You're hurting me!"

She let out a grunt and started moving faster, her grip too tight like overdone handcuffs. She ran hard, the effort making her grunt like a bull. Her breath rushed fast and hot in the air between us. In. Out. In. Out.

"Mom! Mom!"

But she didn't hear me. She wasn't there. Whoever this was, I didn't know. From somewhere in the woods, I heard the thing in the well begin to laugh. A deep, dark belly laugh, as if this were the funniest d.a.m.ned thing it had ever seen. Me struggling against my mother, fighting off my own impending doom.

Now my fear turned to terror, running a constant drum of telling me to get away from her. What was I going to do, though? Beat up my own mother? Grab a stick and shove it into her, like a knife? Club her with a rock?

I still couldn't bring myself to do something like that, something that would hurt her.

What ifa What if she was still in there? And I killed her?

I couldn't do it. No matter how much I wanted to get away, I just couldn't go that far.

"Mom a" I cried, wishing she would stop, knowing she wouldn't. I twisted hard to the right, managing as I did to get one of my arms free, enough to grab a pa.s.sing tree trunk. I wrapped myself around that sucker and held on for dear life, even as the bark sc.r.a.ped down my skin, surely taking off a full layer.

My mother let out a shriek of surprise. She wheeled around, her eyes shining like angry black diamonds, and stared at me, really, really p.i.s.sed now, as if I were a pesky hornet with its stinger in her thumb. "Let go," she said, her voice a growl.

No.

She yanked at my left arm, but I held tightly with the right, hugging that tree as if it were the last oak on earth. "Let go of the d.a.m.ned tree, Cooper."

I shook my head. "This isn't you, Mom. Snap out of it. Please."

She advanced on me, her eyes so dark, they'd become one with the night. Her mouth was open, her teeth bared. When her grip slackened slightly, I jerked my other arm out of her grasp.

She let out a screech of fury, sounding like a wounded bear. She lunged for me and I knew I had to take a chance. I skidded back, my feet slipping on the leaves, and for one horrifying second, I thought I was going to fall down, but then somehow I found some kind of traction and started pedaling backwards, my arms waving like a windmill.

My mother kept coming at me, but I had the advantage of youth and fear. I spun to the right and ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, dodging the trees-had they grown closer together or was that my imagination?-trying to get away, put some distance between us, get out of these woods, get somewhere, anywhere but here.

But then, just when I thought I was in the clear, I saw the familiar curl of green weaving a fast path ahead of me, building a network faster than I could run. As if being around my mother had given it more strength, more speed, it spread its green reach farther than in the cla.s.sroom or my bedroom, into a web that now looked like giant wings, wide and welcoming.

Come on in, Cooper. I'll catch you.

I dodged to the left.

The mossy green web was there, too, its blast of evil color knitting into a wild blanket that stretched between the trees. Waiting for me to run into it, some human-size spider web.

Come here, Cooper.

"Cooper!" My mother's voice behind me, but not really hers-someone else's, something else, something deeper, darker, hoa.r.s.er. "Get over here! Now!"

I ducked to the right and moved faster, even though it hurt to run. Behind me, the forest floor thundered with my mother's footfalls, the air echoing with her roars of fury. The green knitted fast but not as fast, as if the well hadn't expected me to move in that direction. I pushed hard, knowing my mother wasn't far behind me-maybe six feet? Eight?

Finally, ahead there was a break in the woods, a light- The one on the deck.

The house.

I ran even faster than I thought I could, becoming like one of those speed demon guys who leave everyone in their dust in the Boston Marathon, pushing my fists ahead of me, breaking through the brambles now, and just as I hit the last edge of the forest, the web leaped at me with one final curl, like a long green hand reaching for me. I screamed and dove forward.

I rolled, smacking at my skin, sure that the web had gotten me, that my mother had me, the thing had me.

Nothing. Nothing had me. I caught my breath, then cupped a hand around my ear and listened. The wind carried through the trees, whistling lightly. But there was no laughter. No screaming. No roars of anger.

No sounds of anything moving. Where had she gone?

And worse a when would she be back? Because she would be. I had no doubt about that. The thing wanted me, and she was working for him. But why, I didn't know.

I just got to my feet, ran for the house, and raced up to my room, locking the door behind me.

I was done sleeping for the night. Maybe ever again.

I never want to see you again, Cooper." The door slammed in my face before I could get a word out.

"Megan!" I hammered on the wood with my fist as I stood there on Sunday. I'd managed to avoid StepScrooge Sam and my mother most of the weekend by telling them I was working on a project at Joey's. But the hours had ticked by, and as it had gotten closer to the time to either go home or find somewhere else to go, I'd realized there was only one place I wanted to be. "Please. I'm sorry."

No answer.

I stared at the oak door of the home of the one girl I'd ever really cared about, and wondered if this was what love felt like-like a blow to my chest, so heavy that I couldn't hold the emotion anymore.

I dropped down and sat on her stoop. I figured if I waited long enough, she'd come out and forgive me.

I had to tell her that I'd cut her out of my life to keep her safe. And that I was on her doorstep today because I now realized that if I didn't open up to her, the one person I trusted more than anyone else, I'd go crazy. I'd run out of options, if I'd really ever had any to begin with.

I was lost. Not can't-find-my-way-home lost, but lost in the way that I didn't have anyone around I could talk to.

My father was useless. He was the professor from Gilligan's Island-all brains, no listening power.

My brother still didn't believe me, even after finally waking up from his popcorn-induced stupor yesterday. When I told him those kernels might have been drugged, Faulkner denied it and just said he had been really tired and needed to catch up on his rest. And today he had ditched me and headed to Sh.e.l.ley's.

My mother- Well, that was a lost cause and a half.

And Sam-Sam hated me.

Joey and Mike were like the bonus clowns in a Volkswagen at the circus. Good for nothing but comic relief.

But Megan- I don't know what it was about her. Something in her eyes, the way she seemed to listen totally intently to me when she looked at me. I knew Megan and knew she cared. That she wasn't going to run out the back door and leave me alone.

If I could just hold on to her, for a little while, maybe I could find a way to deal with all this.

It took ten minutes before Megan opened the door again. She came outside and sat down beside me without a word. She looked out over her street, her hands draped over her bare knees, bruised a little from cheerleading, dark brown hair running down her back like a river, then drew in a breath and looked at me. "I'm supposed to still be mad at you for dumping me. All the magazines say not to talk to you for at least two weeks. To really make you suffer."

"I am suffering." I gave her a grin, hoping she'd forgive me.

It took a second, but she finally did. That was one thing about Megan. She couldn't hold a grudge if you taped it to her hand. "All right. Why are you here?"

I swallowed my pride. I didn't have time to have any. "I need help."

"With algebra? That Hamlet research paper? Listen, Cooper, I have-"

"My mother's trying to kill me." The words tumbled out in a rush.

Okay, so maybe there are better ways to say that kind of thing. I probably shouldn't have just dropped it like a bomb. Her mouth opened and closed, like a door that wouldn't stay shut. "You're a you're not serious."

"It's not really my mom that's doing it. Well, at least I don't think so." As I said it, the pieces started to come together-what had happened in the woods Friday night, how something else, maybe something supernatural, had worked with her, how it had seemed to control her movements, make her stronger, meaner. "At least, I hope she's not the one in control. I know that doesn't make any sense. I think it's this thing that a" I paused. Okay, this was where it got weird. Where Megan could easily turn and call the white-coat police on me. "This thing, this creature, a monster or wild animal or something, that lives in that old well behind my house. The one I told you to stay away from."

Megan started to laugh. She shook her head and rose. "Cooper, next time you come over to my house and start wailing on my door in the middle of Sunday dinner, p.i.s.sing off my dad, try to come up with a better story."

She started back toward her door, but I grabbed her hand. "Megan, I'm serious. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true.

"You've never been serious about anything your entire life. Especially not me. I have to get back to dinner before my mother freaks." Then she let out a sigh and looked up at the sky before glancing at me. "Did you eat?"

I shook my head.

"Do you like roast beef?"

I didn't, but I wasn't going home for a meal that nightmaybe not ever, not after what had happened Friday-so I nodded. Besides, it meant being with Megan, and that alone was reason to sign on for whatever was on the menu.

"Then come inside. Nothing makes my mother happier than feeding people."

So I went inside and sat at the Garrett dining room table with Megan, her parents, her older sister, and her twin nephews. It was so a ordinary, so normal, when I'd just been running from Ripley's Believe It or Not!

Still, no matter how hard I tried to feel like I fit in to that formal dining room with its dark cherry furniture and Oriental carpet, I couldn't forget what waited for me outside those walls.

The roast beef kept lodging in my throat, the mashed potatoes tasted like glue, and the green beans seemed to twist sideways and stick on the way down to my stomach. Trevor and Taylor, the twin motor mouths of Megan's sister, Elise, kept chattering on and on about some school play they were going to be in. "I get to play a b.u.mblebee," Trevor said, or maybe it was Taylor. I could never keep them straight. "And run around all the flowers and say, 'Buzz, buzz,' and scare away the little fly and I sing a song." He turned to me. "Wanna hear it?"

Before I could say no, Trevor launched into a performance of something about making honey and flowers. Taylor, who was apparently going to be the hummingbird, joined in with a continual "hmm." I wanted to grab them both and shake them, tell those kids there were things outside this house a h.e.l.l of a lot scarier than b.u.mblebees, things that could suck the life out of their s.h.a.ggy little blond heads, but I figured the Garretts wouldn't like that much.

Besides, Mrs. Garrett had said she had pie for dessert. Ticking her off didn't seem like a good plan.

So I kept my mouth shut, suffered through a neverending chorus of "Buzz, buzz, buzz, hmm, hmm, hmm," and waited for the chocolate cream.

"Hey, Cooper, your stepfather is Sam Jumel, isn't he?" Elise asked.

"Yeah." Not something I liked to admit in public.

"He used to be my doctor." She made a face. "Someone told me he specialized in twins, so I went to see him."

"I guess he does. I don't ask. He doesn't tell."

"I didn't like him," Elise said.

"Join the club."

Mrs. Garrett shushed Elise, saying something about it being rude to criticize family members of guests.

"Maybe it was just me." Elise laughed a little. "I was pretty hormonal."

"Pretty hormonal?" Megan said. "You were the G.o.dzilla of hormones."

Elise threw a roll at her. Mrs. Garrett shushed them both. Trevor and Taylor laughed their heads off.

Mrs. Garrett rose. "I'm going to go get the pie. Megan, please make sure Cooper feels welcome. Unlike your sister." She shot Elise a don't-bash-the-stepfather glare, then headed into the kitchen.

Under the table, Megan reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. I glanced at her. If I could keep on looking into her blue eyes, everything would work out okay. I'd be able to breathe, to make some sense out of this.

But then the screaming started again in my head, softer this time, far away, because Megan lived clear on the other side of town. I could hear that creature-how could that thing find me here?-looking for me, and it was mad. Royally p.i.s.sed off. I could tell by the tone.