The Conch Shell of Doom (39 page)

With a moment to think, Franklin’s brain registered the pain in his knee, which felt like it had been crushed in a mechanical press.

“Great.” Franklin tried to stretch his leg out but couldn’t move it past a forty-five degree angle. Moving it felt like someone injecting acid into the knee.

This is certainly a fine mess. Nothing like a plan that requires running when it’s impossible to do so.

Injured or not, Franklin had no choice but to stick with the plan and pray the goblin shark didn’t run him down. Franklin had survived worse, but there wasn’t enough time to heal from any potential wounds and stop his brother. “Hey, rubber face. I’m over here.”

There were bursts of brick, wood, and dust above some houses as the shark turned around, resuming the chase. Franklin made his way back to Julie. His knee barely held his weight, forcing him to limp like a lame duck. Halfway through the backyard, the goblin shark burst through the fence, pieces of wood flying everywhere.

Franklin glanced back. Thanks to his ailing knee, the goblin was making up too much ground. Franklin decided his plan was impulsive and quite stupid. He’d be torn apart by the shark’s fins, and the hardened nose would flatten him like a steamroller. Only ten feet away from the street, Franklin tried to run faster, ignoring the searing pain in his knee. The shark’s breathing sounded like it was just over his shoulder. Unable to keep running, Franklin dove to the side. One of the shark’s fins nicked his arm as it ran past and onto the street.

“Now!”

Julie stepped out from behind the large oak tree and blew the shark’s head off with one shot. The body fell forward, sliding to a stop. Julie went to Franklin and helped him up. “You okay?”

He shook his head. “Busted my knee on a rock. Any sign of the others?”

“No.” Julie pushed some wet hair out of her face. “How hard is it to start an ice cream truck?”

Tim smashed the parlor’s front window with his hook sword and then stepped over the broken glass. Chuck took his wife’s hand, helping as she gingerly stepped into the parlor. Tim disappeared into the manager’s office as Bailey and the rest came in. Bailey heard Tim shuffling papers and then something heavy smashed against the wall.
 

“Let’s not trash the place, okay bud?” Chuck called out.

“Shove a ninja star up your mother’s ass!” Tim yelled. “Where are they?”

Debbie’s face ran hot. “Charles Timothy Carrington, I did
not
raise you to use that kind of salty language.”

“Sorry.”

Bailey stuck his head through where the window used to be, watching the sand soldiers march toward them. Good thing Franklin and Julie distracted the goblin shark and bought them a little time. Alexis moved next to Bailey.

“Maybe we should try and hot-wire the truck,” she said. “There’s probably an app for that.”
 

Bailey looked up at the dark clouds above. “Unless you’ve already downloaded one, I doubt you’ll get a signal.”

Alexis pulled out her phone. “Oh ye of little—no, you’re right. No signal.”

A swordfish landed nose-down in front of the store, inches from Bailey and Alexis. The two of them jumped back, startled.

“I thought they just had starfish,” she said.
 

“Honestly, I can’t say I’m that surprised.” Bailey moved away from the window. “Any day now, Tim.”

A keyboard flew out of the office, into the hallway. “You’re not helping.”

Marshall went behind the counter, grabbed a waffle cone, and heaped scoop after scoop of chocolate ice cream on it.

Bailey couldn’t believe it. “Seriously? Now?”

“What?” Marshall licked the ice cream. “I’m parched.”

“Adults are standing right here,” Chuck
tsk
ed.
 

“Don’t steal, Marshall,” Debbie complained. “What would your parents say?”

“Considering they’re out on that beach right now wishing Bailey’s head was chopped off, I can’t say I really care.” Marshall twirled the cone in his fingers, lapping up the frozen treat. “You guys want some?”

“I wouldn’t mind—” Chuck began, until Debbie elbowed his ribs. “I’m good. Thank you though.”

Another swordfish crashed through the glass, landing in the middle of the store. Everyone jumped, especially Alexis. The weapon lodged in the floor, right between her legs.
 

“I’m never eating seafood again.”

Marshall threw the ice cream against the wall. Debbie stared laser beams at the swordfish, her protective maternal instincts kicking into high gear.

“Tim! I’m counting to three, and if you’re not out here—”
 

Tim slid out of the office so fast he bumped into the wall. The keys jingled in his hands as he ran for the door. The swordfish caught him off guard.

“They have those?”
 

Bailey held open the door for everyone. “Come on.”

They all ran outside. Tim unlocked the back of the ice cream truck and flung the doors open. Dozens of sand soldiers were closing in.

“Only two upfront.” Tim got in the driver’s seat. Chuck cleared his throat, holding his hand out for the keys.

“I’m driving.”

“Dad, we don’t have time for this.” Tim started up the truck. “Just take shotgun.”

“No, your mother will ride shotgun.” Chuck took his son’s sword. “I’ll be in the back.”

Bailey helped the others into the truck. With everyone in, he opened the truck’s side flap, which was normally where kids could order ice cream, but would be used to take down some sand soldiers. That was the idea, at least. Marshall closed the back door and checked the freezer for some ice cream. Empty.

Marshall banged his hand on the freezer. “Bunch of crap.”
 

Bailey fought back a smile. It kind of served his friend right.

Everyone jerked backward as the truck lurched forward and turned left onto the main road. The engine wheezed. Debbie told her son not to floor it.

“I know what I’m doing,” Tim complained. “Just let me drive, okay?”

“Anybody know where Franklin and Julie are?” Bailey asked.

“In the neighborhood somewhere,” Alexis said. “Take a right here.”

The ice cream truck slammed into a few soldiers, ripping them apart into chunky, wet pieces of sand. Inside the truck, each collision felt like crashing into a wall, but they kept moving.

A sand soldier grabbed the side flap, trying to climb in. Chuck swung the hook sword at it, taking the thing’s arm off. The soldier fell under the truck and was run over by the rear tires.

Tim jerked the steering wheel, making a hard right into the neighborhood. They didn’t make it far before he slammed on the brakes. Debris from a destroyed house blocked the road.
 

“You’re going to make us sick,” Debbie complained.

“Mom! Stop it!” Tim put the truck in reverse, slamming into sand soldiers. The truck continued in reverse, away from the soldiers. After going back almost thirty feet, Tim put the truck in drive.

The truck barreled forward, straight for the sand soldiers. Bailey held on to the freezer for balance. They slammed into the soldiers, each hit making everyone lurch forward. Clumps of sand splattered on the windshield, making it almost impossible to see. Tim tried the windshield wipers, but that only created streaks.

“Do the wipers longer,” Chuck said. “That was about two seconds.”

“Everybody stop telling me how to drive!” Tim said.
 

The ice cream truck slammed into something much bigger than a soldier. Whatever it was, Bailey could’ve sworn the truck drove on top of something. Tim tried putting it in reverse, but it was no use.

“It’s stuck.”

Alexis rolled her eyes. “Really?”

Tim threw up his hands. “I can’t help that thing has blind spots.”

Alexis stormed up to her brother. “You couldn’t have gone
around
them? Anything? This is why Dad didn’t want you driving.”
 

“Shut up!” Tim snapped. “We stole the truck so we
could
drive through them, you idiot.”

“Hey!” Debbie spoke over her twins. “Don’t tell your sister to shut up, and don’t call her an idiot—”

Tim tried to get a word in, but his mom wasn’t finished. She turned her attention to Alexis.

“And you. Try to be a little more supportive of your brother. You know he’s sensitive about his driving.”

“Mom!” Tim stomped to the back of the van past Marshall.
 

Alexis glanced back at Bailey. “What do we do now?”

“We hoof it, right?” Bailey looked to Chuck, hoping that was the right answer. Bailey couldn’t have felt more relieved when Mr. Carrington nodded.

“I don’t see that we have any other choice. Hey Deb? Can you do the windshield wipers, see what the party’s looking like?”
 

“You got it, babe.”

Debbie turned the windshield wipers on full speed. The rubber blades went back and forth, clearing the sandy streaks. The truck had lodged itself on top of a small Kia.

“I think we flattened Kay West’s Kia,” Deb said.

Bailey caught the scent of Mrs. Carrington’s wet hair as he leaned over her shoulder, looking through the front windshield. A horde of sand soldiers charged at them. “Um, guys.”

“Great.” Marshall opened the ice cream truck’s rear doors and then hopped out and started cursing up a storm.
 

Bailey and Chuck both went to check on Marshall, who was in an attack stance similar to Wolverine. Rows and rows of sand soldiers surrounded them, each one ready to strike with either a starfish, swordfish, or eel whip.

“Guys, I’ve got this.” Tim wedged himself between Bailey and his dad. “Find the others. I’ll take care of these
si pi yans
.”

“Stop cursing in Chinese.” Chuck held Tim’s sword. “And you’re not going out there. I will.”

“Sorry Dad, but this is a job for a ninja.” Tim moved too fast for Chuck, taking back the sword and jumping out of the truck. Tim attacked the sand soldiers, lopping off a few heads. Marshall got to work, using his gloved blades to remove the arms and legs of some soldiers. An eel whip flew out from behind Tim and wrapped around his leg, zapping him with electricity. Tim fell to his knees, his body shaking from the charge. Several sand soldiers stood above him, ready to stab him through the chest.

Chuck rushed to his son, trying to get between Tim and the soldiers. Mr. Carrington didn’t get far before one of the monsters knocked him out, amidst the screams of Debbie and Alexis.
 

Bailey spread his arms and pushed against the rear door’s frame. Debbie and Alexis both struggled to get past him. The enemy’s numbers were only increasing. They were surrounded. Fighting would only lead to all six of them dying. Bailey looked at Tim, who was one wrong move away from death. Bailey couldn’t live with himself if any of those people gave their lives for him. Something had to be done. Bailey just hoped that particular something would work.

He raised his hands and calmly stepped out of the truck. “I surrender.”

Marshall scowled at his friend. “What the heck are you doing?”
 

“You guys aren’t dying for me.” Bailey’s eyes fell on Alexis. “You can still get away.”

“Don’t do this.” Alexis’s lower lip trembled.
 

Bailey wanted to kiss her, especially since he was offering himself up as a sacrificial lamb to Trenton Maroney again, but coupled with her family being literally
right there
, it seemed a little inappropriate. Anxiety forced Bailey to make fists.
What the hell am I doing?

A sand soldier grabbed Bailey. The troops fell out, marching Trenton’s sacrifice back to the beach. Bailey wanted to cry. Why did he give up? What made him think that was a good idea? Such an idiot. Walking down the boardwalk, Bailey didn’t even care that he really was crying. His excellent, no,
fantastic
, decision making under pressure had guaranteed he’d die a virgin without ever really kissing a girl (the Jenny Hunt vomit incident did
not
count), and on top of that, provided Trenton survived the attack by Ares’s Birds of War, Bailey’s body was about to become host to an evil head that an hour ago lived in somebody else’s stomach.
 

Dear universe,

Suck it
.
 

Sincerely,

Bailey Southwick
.
 

The sand soldiers led Bailey onto the beach. The birds had killed some of the townsfolk, including Kay West.
So much for Tim destroying her Kia.
Among the lifeless bodies clothed in black robes littering the beach was every single one
of Ares’s Birds of War. At least, it looked like all of them.
Typical
. Bailey was marched past the injured survivors, including his and Marshall’s parents. Most of those people only had cuts and bruises. Deckland made it through the attack alive, his hands bloody from punching any bird brave enough to fight him. His shirt was lost in the fighting, revealing a chest that was covered in gashes.

Percy whistled at the sight of Bailey. “Look what the sandies dragged in.”

“Where’s Trenton?” the Irishman asked Percy, who’d somehow made it through without a scratch.

“Haven’t seen him since the birds dunked him in the water. You think he drowned?”

“Trenton can’t drown, you stupid wanker.” The ginger smiled at the sight of something farther down the beach. “See?”

Bailey watched as Trenton’s head rose above the waves. He marched through the churning ocean and made his way to them, clutching the Conch Shell of Doom.

“I see my army took care of the birds,” Trenton said.

Deckland mock-brushed his shoulder. “I helped a bit.”

Trenton coughed. Parts of his host body were pitch black and spreading. Mr. Lovell’s body wouldn’t last much longer. Trenton couldn’t have been happier to see Bailey.
 

“You’re stronger than you appear,” Trenton said. “That’s going to serve me well.”

Mayor Benchley and some of the other followers stumbled toward them, a little life returning to their eyes. Benchley held up his mangled left hand. It looked like it’d been put through a meat grinder.