My Friends Are Dead People (14 page)

“
All he has to do is turn
to stone,” muttered Jacoby.

“
Come on, Hess!” cheered
Lin. “Squash her! Joan’s nothing but a bug! You said she was going
to be easy to beat!”

The spider braced herself around the edges
of the hole with all of her eight jittery legs and hoisted the
cocoon up.

I looked up at a clock on a nearby
pillar.

2:40 . . . 2:41 . . . 2:42 . . .

The crowd sprang up to their feet. The web
had caught on fire, and Hess shot out of it, beating his powerful
wings over Joan’s scampering shape, trying to keep her in his
sight. He flapped once hard and blasted her to a stop with a
horizontal tornado.

“
Yes!” shouted Lin. “He’s
going to win! . . . He’s going to lose!”

Small spiders were pouring out of Joan’s
abdomen by thousands. Hess couldn’t stop them all. He tried
everything – flammable spills, flooding the arena, stomping on them
with all his might – but they just kept on coming.

“
What is this?” yelped
Lin, watching a sea of spiders jump on Hess. “She has thousands of
helpers! That’s another violation!”

2:49 . . . 2:50 . . .

Hess flew further back, trying to get as far
from the hole as he could, and pressed his body against the far
wall while countless baneful spiders attached themselves to him.
The weight of all of them was getting too much for him to bear.
With a painful growl, Hess fell to the ground, and a wave of
spiders washed over him. Joan immediately yanked him through the
air, thinking that this time she had him, but he quickly turned to
stone and tumbled across the floor.

“
Hess is the Candy Apple!”
shouted Lin excitedly, jumping up and down, using the railing, as
though it was the handle of a pogo stick. “Hess, trample them all!
Kill! Kill!!! . . .”

Lin and the crowd fell silent. Joan had made
a sudden swoop across the fifty-meter floor and sling-shot Hess’s
large body into the hole. All the tiny spiders scurried over and
dragged him toward the back. A few skittered their legs, stabbing
Hess countless times, trying to get him to let go of the edge.

2:55 . . . 2:56 . . . 2:57 . . . 2:58

And then, Hess let out a deadly roar,
causing all the little spiders to shrivel and coil. A firestorm
swept across the arena seconds after, engulfing the rest of the
spiders and obliterating them without a trace.

The clock stopped at three minutes, and the
crowd CHEERED.

“
I win!” shouted Lin
gleefully. “Hess is the Candy Apple! Hess is the Candy
Apple!”

Katie and I clapped. Peter waved at us
jubilantly from one of the front rows.

On the game floor, Hess dropped from the
hole and immediately summoned a swirling black cloud around a red
samhain, with silky red hair.

“
It’s over!” she muttered
as Hess approached her. “Please, don’t! Hess!”

Two poles erupted out of the ground and a
web instantly took form. At Hess’s command, the poles bent outward
and snapped in two.

“
What’s he doing?” I said.
“It’s not over?”

No one answered.

Dirt started to swirl around Hess’s feet and
up to his claws as he came face to face with his nemesis.

The crowd set in motion a loud chant.

“
Hess! Hess! HESS! HESS!
HESS!. . .”

Joan held out her hand. “It’s over!” she
moaned, eyeing the spinning pillar of dirt, swirling around his
claws like a mini-cyclone. But the glow evaporated, and Hess shook
her hand, not looking like he wanted to.

The crowd
BOOED
, which gradually
turned to a chant as Hess exited the arena through a small door
swinging open for him.

“
Ireland! Ireland!
IRELAND! IRELAND! IRELAND! . . .”

“
Why are they shouting
‘Ireland’?” I yelled.

“
That’s where the
semifinals will be held,” answered Jacoby in his regular tone. “And
Hess is the first melkian gargoyle ever to make it past the
quarterfinals. Joan was very fortunate.”

“
Why’s that?”

The chanting subsided.

“
She’s not a true
contender for him. If Hess played as unfairly as she did, Joan
would have been drinking tonic potions for the rest of her life.
Alright, let’s find seats.”

“
That was cool,” said
Katie.

“
Yeah,” I agreed. “I knew
he would win.”

“
Yeah.”

“
You were
scared.”

“
Yeah, so? She was hurting
Hess!”

“
Jacoby,” I asked, “what’s
the fastest time held by the samhain player?”

“
Two minutes. The record
is held by Soundrec.”

“
Has any one come anywhere
near his record?”

“
It’s been broken already.
He only holds the record in this stadium. There are three more: one
in Ireland, one somewhere in Australia, and one in
Africa.”

“
What are those
records?”

“
I know a young pel
kelical, which is similar to a werewolf, who holds a one-minute
record in Australia. But they tend not to get much competition
there. This stadium and the one in Ireland usually bring in the
strongest halloweens or, as others would say, the more evil ones.
But the official Halloween record is forty-nine seconds, held by a
German witch. It happened in the first finals after the games
reopened in 1854. Coincidently, she was the one rumored to have
seen Jack. Of course, she’s long gone now.”

“
You’d know what he looks
like then, no?” said Katie.

“
Yes and no. Officially,
no one has seen him. A fleeting sighting reported by one is not
sufficient evidence.”

Two cloaked warlocks with grim faces brushed
by rudely. The tails of their cloaks whipped Katie in the face.

“
What’s their problem?”
she said, annoyed, swatting away the floating fabric.

“
They’re . . .” Jacoby
waited until the mysterious samhains were further away before he
continued, “. . . scouts from Ireland. They keep an eye on the
competition level here. I don’t doubt they’re here strictly on the
account of the tortic. The O’Games are taken very seriously in
Ireland.”

Loud gasps of dismay broke out from the
crowd on the other side.

“
They’re here. Let’s find
a seat.”

No one listened to him. We were all looking
across the stadium at nine slender creatures moving calmly down the
aisles. They were just as Katie had described: tall,
broad-shouldered, thin-waisted, with elephant ears tied back behind
their heads and red reptilian skin.

The tortics made themselves comfortable in a
reserved section, unfazed by the commotion.

“
Come along, you two,”
said Jacoby from a flight of stairs above us. “They’re merely
spectators.”

“
What about Kala’s
father?” I said.

“
He’s not
here.”

“
What?” I exclaimed. “He’s
got to be here. How do you know?”

“
I checked. There are no
humans here, other than . . .”

“
Why would he not show up?
But what about Kala–”

“
Jesse, that’s
enough.”

More commotion rose around us. They had
noticed Dorian. Some stumbled out of their seats and moved away,
ensuring plenty of seating for us.

“
Good,” said Jacoby,
taking a seat. “Jesse, Katie.”

Katie and I sat down next to him. Lin
plopped happily between Jacoby and Dorian, eyes glinting with
mischief.

“
Watch this,” Lin told us
as he sneakily drew a yellow ball out of his pocket. His eyes were
fixed on a female vampire with black hair and black lipstick,
sitting five seats away.

“
Lin, put that back in
your pocket,” commanded Jacoby.

But Lin already rolled the ball down the
aisle. “Stinky ball on the move,” he whispered merrily.

Katie and I eagerly
watched the ball come to a stop exactly under the vampire and emit
a trail of bubbly vapor, which coiled up her stockings. Her face
shriveled, and she shot out of her seat, shrieking,
“
Jack is
–”. She
then saw the gas and stomped on the ball, crushing it.

“
That was good,” smiled
Lin. “You want to trick one, Jesse? All blackian vampires fall for
it–” He pulled away as Jacoby reached for his head. “Jacoby, I’m
just having some fun with some Jack pranks. Don’t be in a box,
human!”

“
Not here, Lin. You know
better.”

A loud horn blew inside the arena walls. A
pale face poked out of a small door for a moment then disappeared
inside.

I wasn’t feeling good. My stomach was
hurting. How could Kala’s father not show up?

“
You okay?” asked Katie.
“You’re sweating.”

“
I don’t feel good,” I
exhaled softly.

“
You’ll be fine,” said
Jacoby.

I whirled around. Who did Jacoby think he
was? He had no right to talk to me like that. I angrily scanned the
stadium, trying to calm myself. But it was easy to see there was no
clown in the audience because most of the samhains were dark in
color or wearing dark color clothes – even the mummies.

On the dirt-covered game floor, Kala was
shuffling out to the center, kicking up dirt and mumbling something
to himself.

“
Poor Kala,” said Katie.
She then shouted, “Come on, Kala! . . . How does it start?” she
asked Jacoby.

“
Kala needs to knock on
the doors and say ‘trick or treat’. Then the game
begins.”

“
Come on, Kala,” I
whispered. “You can do it. You’ll make it.”

Kala stood in the center of the floor, still
as a statue.

The spectators hustled to
their feet and started to chant. “
Trick or
treat! Trick or treat! Trick or treat!
. .
.”

They kept at it, shouting louder and louder.
Kala dragged his feet slowly toward the giant doors, looking pale
and haggard, as if he had been throwing up.

The crowd continued more pressingly. “TRICK
OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! . . .”

“
Maybe we should help
him!” said Katie.

“
But we can’t,” I reminded
her. “Remember what the proclamation said?”

Kala finally reached the thick oak doors and
drew his eyes up to the top as a slight breeze came in from one of
the exits on the first level. Not noticing the spooky wind, he
looked around sadly, wiped his face with the underside of his
drenched robe, and finally knocked.

Boom.

Before Kala could even ask the question, the
wooden gates slowly began to crank open. He scampered backward,
afraid. Sparkling lights illuminated the upper levels and sharp
popping noises pierced the sky. All nine tortics on the far side
were on their feet along with everyone else. The crowd’s deafening
cheer pressed against my eardrums.

I noticed Dorian clutching his arms in a
trance. I wondered what he was thinking about. He probably didn’t
like being at a place where he felt so unwanted.

“
Jacoby, you think the
tortics really came here for the games?” I shouted.

“
I’m not sure anymore,”
replied Jacoby slowly, his eyes locked on the tortics. “They have
firmly stated they would never participate in the
games.”

“
You think they’re here
for Kala?”

“
Jesse, no more
questions.”

Back on the floor, Kala was stumbling
backward toward the black hole.

“
He’s going to end the
game?” I realized. “He’s nearing the hole!”

“
The tortic’s out,” I
heard Katie say.

The crowd came to an abrupt hush as Kala
tripped and fell backward. The tortic was standing in the shadows
of the door, taking a long look around the quiet stadium. Some
gaping samhains readied themselves to make a quick departure in
case the tortic turned on them instead.

I looked up at the clock.

0:01 . . . 0:02 . . .

The game had begun. Kala didn’t seem to
care. He remained lying on his back, staring skyward at a large
cluster of dark clouds. His lips were moving slowly. I turned to
Dorian, who was doing the same thing, then back to Kala. He brought
up his head to look at the big-eared samhain who was still standing
near the door. His gaze drifted away from his family and pierced
the arena’s wall.

“
What’s it doing?” asked
Katie anxiously.

There was a slight echo. My heart stopped as
I was sure that the tortics heard her.

“
Katie, brittle your
mouth,” Jacoby whispered strictly.

“
He’s not even playing,”
she fretted. “He’s just standing there looking through the
wall.”

I looked around, but no one was looking at
her. The noise had started up again.

“
Maybe he’s thinking,” Lin
proposed, “about whether he should do it or not in front of
everyone. But there are too many of us, right, Jacoby? He can’t
kill Kala.”

Jacoby didn’t respond because the tortic was
now striding across the floor. Kala squealed, frightened, and
scampered backward on his hands and feet.

That was it. The tortic
decided he was going to go through with it, despite all the
witnesses. The crowd didn’t cheer, but gasped as though
they
were all going to
be attacked. They must have had the same suspicion as us. But Lin
was right: the tortic couldn’t possibly get away with murdering
Kala in front of everyone. There looked to be close to one-hundred
thousand samhains here.