The Beast From the East (8 page)

“Of course not,” the squirrel-dog said calmly. “The humans went the other
way.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Fleg exploded.

Spork shouted to the other beasts. “They’re not here! The other way, quick!
Only trel minutes left to play.”

“I’ll find her,” I heard Spork tell the others. “I have to tag her back! No
human is going to make
me
Beast from the East!”

I heard their footsteps pound in the other direction.

Only trel minutes! I didn’t exactly know what trel meant. But I knew the game
was nearly over. If Spork didn’t tag me back, my brothers and I would be free!

But I couldn’t take another second in this bug-infested cave.

I moved to the entrance on trembling legs. I itched so badly, I could barely
control my muscles!

I peered out of the cave. “Are they all gone?” I whispered to the
squirrel-dog.

“For now,” he answered.

“Let’s get out of here!” I called back to Pat. I sprang out of the cave. He
jumped out after me.

We frantically brushed bugs off our skin and clothes. I scratched my head and
rubbed my back up against a tree.

Pat stomped his feet. “They’re even in my boots!” he wailed. He untied his laces and pulled off his boot. He shook it
upside down. A hundred black bugs poured onto the ground and scurried away.

“I’m never going to stop itching!” I wailed. “I’m going to itch for the rest
of my life!”

“You’d better hide,” the squirrel-dog warned. “They could be back. And you’re
only allowed to use the Hiding Cave once a game.”

Pat and I thanked the strange creature. Then we plunged back into the woods.

I hadn’t been in this part of the forest before. Pat and I pushed our way
past a row of high bushes. I stopped.

A giant willow tree stood up ahead. Its branches spread low, sweeping against
the ground.

The Gulla Willow?

It had to be.

I glanced around, searching for a hiding place. A long, low rock stretched
beyond the tree.

Only a few minutes left.

“Quick,” I whispered, grabbing Pat. I pulled him behind the rock.

“That must be the Gulla Willow,” I told him. “When the sun sets behind it,
we’ll be safe.”

Pat nodded but didn’t reply. He was breathing hard. He scratched his cheeks.
Still itchy. We were both still itchy.

“Stay down,” I warned him. “And don’t touch the rock.”

We crouched together in silence.

And waited.

My heart slammed against my chest. My skin tingled. I huddled beside my
brother—and listened.

Silence.

The whisper of the wind through the trees. No other sound.

“Are we safe now?” Pat asked in a trembling whisper.

“Not yet,” I answered. I raised my eyes to the charcoal gray sky. A last ray
of purple light spread over the top of the willow.

Hurry! I urged the sun. Go down! What are you waiting for?

The sky darkened. The purple light faded behind the Gulla Willow.

Only gray sky now. Night sky.

The sun was down.

“We’re safe!” I cried, jumping to my feet. I turned and hugged Pat. “We’re
safe! We made it.”

I stepped out from behind the rock.

A heavy hand slapped me hard. On the shoulder.

“You’re It!” Spork bellowed. “You’re the Beast from the East!”

“Huh?”

I gasped in shock. I could still feel the beast’s stinging slap on my
shoulder.

“No fair!” Pat cried. “No fair!” He stared as the beasts circled us. Pat had
never seen them close-up before.

“It’s dark! The sun is down!” I protested. “You can’t tag me now!”

“Game Over! Game Over!” Fleg shouted. He stepped out of the woods and hurried
toward the circle of beasts.

I pointed angrily at the Gulla Willow. “The sun set behind the tree. You
can’t tag me!”

“The game hadn’t been called yet,” Spork said calmly. “You know the rule.
Fleg has to shout out ‘Game Over’ before the game can end.”

The beasts all murmured agreement.

I clenched my fists. “But… but…” I stammered. I lowered my head in
defeat. I knew they wouldn’t listen to me.

Pat gulped. “What will they do now, Ginger?” he whispered softly. “Will they
hurt us?”

“I already told you,” I whispered back. “They’re going to eat us.”

Pat let out a cry. He started to say something. But there wasn’t time.

Fleg stepped forward and grabbed me by the waist. He tossed me over his
shoulder.

The blood rushed to my head and I felt dizzy. The ground was so far away!

Spork hoisted Pat over his shoulder.

“Hey—whoa!” I protested. “Put my brother down!”

“He was your Helper,” Spork replied. “We always eat the Helper, too!”

“Put me down!” Pat shrieked. “Let me go.”

But the huge beast ignored him.

They carried us both into a small clearing.

A large stone pit sat in the center. A raging fire burned inside the pit.
Yellow and blue flames leaped at the sky.

Fleg lowered me onto a tree stump. Spork set Pat down beside me.

The beasts circled around us. Drooling. Licking their lips.

I thought I heard thunder. But I soon realized it was the sound of their
stomachs growling.

“It’s Flelday,” Spork said, smiling. “On Flelday we always barbecue.”

I swallowed hard. And stared at the flames leaping against the sky. I wrapped my arms around my chest and hugged myself.

Spork poked at the fire with a long metal rod.

He pointed the rod at me. “Yum yum.” He grinned, rubbing his stomach.

I felt sick.

Gleeb lugged a huge pot over to the fire. He set it down in the middle of the
flames.

Fleg pulled some gourds off the nearby trees. He cracked them open and poured
their yellow juice into the pot. He collected sticks and leaves and tossed them
in, too.

Gleeb stirred and stirred. A sour, rotting stench rose up from the pot.

“The broth is ready,” Gleeb announced.

I turned to Pat. “I’m sorry,” I said in a trembling voice. “Sorry I lost the
game.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he whispered, his eyes on the flames.

The beasts began chanting. “Flelday. Flelday. Flelday.”

“Who brought the barbecue sauce?” Spork asked. “I’m starving!”

Fleg lifted me in his arms. And carried me toward the cooking pot.

“Whoa! Wait! Stop!”

A familiar voice shouted across the clearing.

I jerked my head around. “Nat!” I screamed.

“Ginger!” Nat cried. He ran toward us, waving his arms. “What’s going on?
What are they doing?”

Fleg lowered me to the ground. “Nat—!” I screamed. “Run! Find help! Hurry!”

He stopped halfway across the clearing. “But, Ginger—”

“They’ll eat you, too,” I shrieked. “Run!”

“Capture him!” Spork shouted to the other beasts.

Gleeb and several others took off after Nat.

Nat spun around. He darted for the woods and disappeared into the trees.

I watched helplessly as the beasts plunged into the woods after him.

Don’t find him, I prayed, crossing my fingers. All ten of them!

Nat will escape, I told myself. He’ll climb a tree. He’ll get away from them.
Then he’ll run and find help.

Pat and I stared at the dark trees. And waited.

“Oh, nooo!” I uttered a long wail when the beasts returned from the woods.
And one of them carried Nat over his shoulder.

Nat kicked and punched. But he couldn’t free himself.

The beast dumped Nat beside Pat and me. Nat landed hard, face-down on the
ground.

Now they had all three of us. A feast!

Spork and Fleg gazed at us hungrily. Gleeb ran his tongue over his long fang.

I dropped down beside Nat. “How did you get out?” I asked him. “How did you
get out of that cage?”

Nat rolled over and sat up. “It wasn’t that hard,” he said, groaning. “The
boards were weak. I worked and worked—until I pushed enough boards out. Then I
broke out.”

“You should have stayed away,” I told him. “You should have run. Now they’re
going to eat you, too.”

Nat raised his eyes to the cook pot and the blazing fire. “I—I don’t want
to play anymore,” he stammered.

“Nat,” I whispered sadly, “I’m afraid the game is just about over.”

“Quiet!” Fleg demanded. “Dinner—stop talking!” He stared at Nat.

Fleg’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head. He whispered to Spork and Gleeb.

The other beasts moved closer. They were all moving their eyes from Pat to
Nat. They began murmuring to each other, shaking their big, furry heads. Their
snouts waved up and down as they talked.

“You doubled!” Spork said to Pat. “You did a Classic Clone!”

I stared at the beasts. Studied their startled expressions. Hadn’t they ever
seen
twins
before?

“You doubled yourselves!” Fleg declared. “That’s a Classic Clone. Why didn’t
you tell us?”

“Uh… tell you
what
?” I asked.

Fleg glared at me. “Why didn’t you tell us that you are Level Three players?”

My brothers and I exchanged confused glances.

“You’re in the wrong game,” Spork announced, shaking his head.

“If you can double yourselves, that means you belong in Level Three,” Fleg
said. He slapped his furry forehead. “I’m so embarrassed! Why didn’t you tell us
sooner?”

“Well, I
told
you we didn’t want to play,” I replied sharply. “But you
wouldn’t listen.”

“I’m so sorry,” Fleg apologized. “We’re only Level One players. We’re just
beginners. We’re not experts like you.”

“Experts?” Pat muttered. He turned to me and rolled his eyes.

“That’s why we have to play in the daytime,” Fleg explained. “We’re not ready
to play at night.”

All around us, the beasts were muttering and shaking their heads.

“Of course, we’ll have to let you go now,” Fleg said. He scratched at his
flabby chin.

“Well, of course,” I cried. I wanted to jump up and down and shout for joy.
But somehow I kept myself in control.

“That’s it?” Nat cried to Fleg. “We’re free?”

“Yes. Good-bye.” Fleg scowled. He rubbed his belly. I heard it growl.

“Don’t ask again,” I told Nat. “Let’s just get out of here!”

“Good-bye,” Fleg repeated. He waved his paws as if he were trying to shoo us
away.

I jumped to my feet. I didn’t feel tired or scared or itchy or dirty anymore.

This time the game was really over!

“How do we find our parents?” I asked.

“That’s easy,” Fleg replied. “Follow that path.” He pointed. “Follow it
through the trees. It leads back to your world.”

We shouted good-bye—and took off. The narrow dirt path twisted through the
trees. Silvery moonlight danced over the ground.

“I am so glad you guys are twins!” I exclaimed.

I had
never
said that before! But I really meant it. They had saved
our lives!

The trees thinned out. I could see a full moon climbing up over the dark
treetops. I felt as if we were running to it, running into its warm, white
light.

“Mom and Dad will never believe this story,” I said. I planned to tell them
every gory detail.

“They
have
to believe us,” Pat declared. “It’s all true.”

I put on a burst of speed. My brothers ran harder to keep up with me.

I couldn’t wait to get back. Mom and Dad must be so worried.

“Oh!” I gasped and skidded to a stop.

Pat and Nat stumbled into me. All three of us struggled to stay on our feet.

A huge beast had stepped out from behind a tree, blocking the path.

He crossed his furry arms over his enormous chest. His snout flared as he
stared down at us with cold marble eyes. He opened his lips and growled,
exposing his long fang.

I wasn’t afraid. Not this time.

“Step aside,” I ordered him. “You have to let us go by. My brothers and I are
Level Three players.”

“You’re Level Three? Hey—that’s great! So am I!” the beast exclaimed. “Tag!
You’re It.”

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