Undisclosed (20 page)

He scowled. “Not what? Like your kind? Weak? Scared? Powerless?” he said as he curled his lip into a crooked smile, finding pleasure in the pain and torment they had inflicted.

“Oh, you all make it easy, it’s like taking candy from a baby.”

“Let me guess, this is the part where you take me back to your space ship?—Oh right, you’re probably not old enough to drive one.” Travis coughed out a chuckle. He struggled to hold it back, but then he began to laugh harder, so hard his ribs were hurting even more. Still bent down, Deagan gave a confused smirk. He then shot a look to the others—
Is this kid for real?
Then he turned back.

Instantly, Travis spat a mouthful of blood into Deagan’s eyes and leaped to his feet, pushing him over.

Like a quarterback going for a winning touchdown, Travis charged across the room, blindsiding two of them, knocking them over like bowling pins. His focus was fixed on the door and for a moment he thought he would make it, but who was he kidding, there were too many of them. The one in the blood-splattered hockey mask swatted the air, creating ripples that made Travis bite the dust. Like a car in a collision he slammed into the wall, splitting it into two parts. Drywall dust filled the air.

Deagan wiped the blood from his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“You really don’t learn, do you, Marshall?” he said, bending down again and examining him, sliding his eyes from head to toe.

Travis lifted his chin. “I learned you cheat to get what you want.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Thunder Valley.” He turned back to the others.

“Can you believe this guy is still hanging on to that? Even now. How pathetic.”

They roared with laughter.

“Pathetic is using power to win,” Travis replied, scowling.

“No.” With a meaty hand Deagan grabbed Travis by the back of his hair, yanking him up to eye level. “Pathetic is thinking you have power to win. Now where is it?” he screamed in his face.

Travis coughed. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you?” He grinned. “Between your legs.”

Furious, Deagan snapped.

Once again, like a rag doll being tossed into the air, Travis felt himself soar over the top of furniture and through the balcony doors, banging hard against the concrete balcony and landing in a heap. The fall knocked the wind out of him. He gasped for breath as he watched the doors he flew through swing back, momentarily blocking their view of him. Everything inside him demanded he lie there, but he knew what would happen. Peering down from the balcony he could see large shrubs and bushes below. It was risky but he had no other choice. Like a boxer in round twelve, he summoned what strength he had remaining and hauled himself up and over the edge and dropped like a rock. The bushes weren’t as forgiving as he thought they would be, but they were better than the alternative.

“Oh, we can do this all night, Marshall.” Deagan gestured. “Go bring him in,” he said, commanding the one in the hockey mask.

Travis knew there was no time to get his bike. Any moment now they would be upon him. He rose up and ran as best he could, huffing and wheezing, his legs wanting to collapse beneath him.

Outside the goon with the hockey mask lifted his mask up and looked around in confusion until he caught a glimpse of Travis.

“Deagan, he’s making a break for it.”

“What?” Deagan shouted.

Those were the last words Travis heard as he crossed the road and disappeared through the tall, thin wall of pine trees. He stumbled and tripped over large boulders and tree roots jutting out of the dirt like a network of roads and bridges. Emerging on the other side, he wiped dirty sweat from his brow and tried to get his bearings—he was at the end of Range Road. He’d be lucky if he could make it a few miles down the road before they caught him. His only chance was to head into Guaje Pines cemetery, a decision that he didn’t have time to question. The main entrance gate was locked but the walls were low and easy to get over. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears as he made his way into the cemetery, sucking in the cold air.

Chapter Twenty

He could hear them closing in fast behind him—a stampede of feet, cracking of branches, laughter and howling.

“Come on, sweetheart, the fun has just begun.”

Adrenaline shot through Travis’s body as he scurried in between the tall and short gravestones and overhanging leafless trees. A thick fog had settled, obscuring and distorting everything; one false step and he would find himself chewing grass. He slid quickly behind a tall decaying headstone covered in moss, his back pressed tightly against the cool, hard stone. He tried to catch his breath. His lungs felt as if they were spasming, his heart smashing forcefully against his chest. Squatting there he tried to slow his breathing down, realizing that he could see his breath forming large puffs of white clouds against the cold air, a sure giveaway if seen. He twisted around, keeping his body close against the stone, and shot a quick peek.

They were gaining on him.

Deagan and his goons were spread out like a search party, a few of them hopping over headstones like a group of gorillas hunting in the wild.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Travis’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning for anywhere he could hide. It was hard to see anything within the eerie fog. The pickings were slim but he had to keep moving. If they caught him it was certain there would be no escaping a second time. Keeping low to the ground he went farther into the cemetery. Having been there in the past, he knew there were larger tombs that had been vandalized, their doors smashed open by thieves looking for valuables, or sickos looking to get their kicks. But in the darkness it was hard to figure out where the damaged tombs were.

“There he is,” one of them cried out.

Travis double-timed it, with them hot on his heels. His legs screamed in protest. Chunks of headstone exploded around him as they attempted to knock him down with their unearthly powers. Not looking back for even a split second, Travis ran farther into the thick fog curling its way around angelic statues. Searching frantically for the tombs he had seen before, he rounded a large coffin-shaped headstone and he saw one. The stone tomb loomed up with rusting iron gates, a broken chain hanging loosely through the bars. He reached it and eased his way between the iron gates and into the darkness. It smelled musty and reeked of urine. Only two small-barred windows on either side allowed in the moon’s partial light.

In the center he could feel a large rectangular stone coffin, presumably holding the remains of someone long gone. Had they seen him enter the tomb? He muttered silent promises under his breath that if he got out of this he would change his ways; he would stop being so stubborn. Surely they would have found him by now? Fat use that device was! He heard a shuffle outside. Not wanting to move an inch, he remained still, listening, hoping they had lost sight of him and gone in another direction.

After what felt like minutes but was likely seconds, he leaned towards the side window, a cold chill creeping over him as he tried to steal a glimpse. Nothing, only the sound of the trees creaking in the wind, and then he saw them. He hid to one side, holding his breath and keeping one eye focused on them as each of them passed by.

Their voices and cackling soon became quieter as they moved further from the tomb. He pulled his head back; he was safe at least for now. He gave it one more look, peering between the bars—nothing, they were gone. He felt his wrist pulsating and he looked down briefly, only to discover—

“Aarrrrhhh!” The face of the psycho clown shot in front of the window, inches away from his own. Travis reeled back from shock. It felt as if someone had dangled him over a cliff edge and let him go.

Laughter erupted. They had surrounded the entire tomb.

Deagan stepped into view at the front of the gates, the moon’s light casting an eerie shadow across his smirking face and one half of his body.

“You’re too predictable, Marshall.”

The jester removed his mask. “Too stupid, too.” It was Billy standing beside him.

Each of them pulled back their masks. Travis immediately recognized Seth, Joe and Marcus. Their eyes darkened ink black, leaving no white to be seen, exactly as Jayde’s had.

“No way out now, punk.” Marcus grinned.

They just stood there staring at him

“Well c’mon, get it over with,” Travis growled. Out of all the places it would happen, this had to be the most ironic.

“Now that would take the fun out of it, wouldn’t it, boys?” Deagan said as Billy closed the large iron gate, the lock clanging loudly as it connected. Travis ran to the gate, trying to pull it open.

Seth howled, clinging to bars on the far window.

“Travis,” Deagan shouted, grabbing his wrists.

Travis looked at him, and in that moment he felt as if time slowed down. He wanted to pull his eyes away but they were transfixed on Deagan’s, as if some uncontrollable force had locked them together.

Like a man seasick and swaying in a boat on a turbulent ocean, Travis could barely stand upright as Deagan let him go, and he braced himself against the center granite coffin. Something had willfully gripped him, and his view of Deagan and the others had become like a blur, shifting sideways, and then as if he woke from a dream, the room snapped back into view.

“Watch out for the spiders,” Joe said through the bars as he stepped back from the window closest to Travis. He heard a sound like the tiniest patter of feet scurrying, and then like an army of ants moving together in unison across the ground, a dark mass appeared over and around the edges of the windows, separating in multiple directions. It was then Travis could tell what it was.

Black tarantulas.

His heart nearly burst out of his chest in terror.

Some fell to the floor from the window like a waterfall; others climbed the walls and spread like fire on the ceiling. Travis scrambled to the gate, shaking it violently.

“Let me out of here.”

Deagan, Billy and the others remained silent in the eerie darkness, like watching a laboratory experiment going well. Wicked smiles crept across their faces. Travis jumped back as more spiders poured in through the front gate, and then he vaulted up onto the center stone coffin. His blood ran cold as he watched in horror as the light of the moon that lit up the front entrance was swallowed in an instant by the mass of crawling darkness beneath the thick rolling fog.

Travis yelled as two, then three spiders dropped onto him from the ceiling. He swatted at them hysterically, but despite all his efforts they were landing on him faster than he could flick or swipe them off. It then seemed as if the ceiling was coming down, as the mass from above got closer. Crouching and yelling and tossing them off, he lost his footing and fell to the ground. Hundreds scampered towards him, making their way up his legs and arms. Within seconds his entire body would be engulfed in the dark mass of prickly hair.

It was the sound of Travis’s initial yelling that alerted Jayde and the others to discover him. They had arrived to an empty house, seen Travis’s bike and had been in the process of searching the grounds when they heard his blood-curdling cries.

In the racket being made by Travis they had the element of surprise as they ran up behind Deagan and his cohorts.

Mason reacted first, launching into the air and delivering a series of crippling, bone-crunching blows to two of them, sending one careening into the side of the tomb and the other over the top of the headstone in a ball of fire. Lincoln followed suit, sliding on the ground and taking out Joe’s leg tendons with his knife, causing him to drop to his knees and shriek in agony.

Deagan turned to see Jayde dashing in his direction, arms to her sides; lifting in unison with water that burst from sprinkler pipes in the ground, like the parting of the Red Sea, waves of water rose upwards around her. Deagan instantly counteracted with a surge of power that warped the air between him and Jayde, but she was too fast. As quick as a flash and with lightning reflexes she sidestepped, launching herself into the air off a headstone with one foot, twisting into a flip like an acrobatic gymnast above the blast of air. She landed, sending the furious rage of water that had filled the air in a spiral cannon towards Deagan, exploding him backwards like being hit by an uncontrolled fire truck’s hose.

Ty was already knee deep in the thick of an assault. After striking the ground and sending a crack large enough to force Marcus off balance, he followed up by turning the earth beneath him into flowing quicksand, sinking half of Marcus’s body and then instantly solidifying the ground, imprisoning him and making him unable to move.

“Well, I’d say that went pretty well,” Ty remarked before placing his foot firmly on the top of Marcus’s head.

Joe was clinging to his bloody leg and writhing in pain when Jayde passed by him, heading for the tomb.

Inside, Travis was in a fetal position in the far corner, still yelling and swiping his hand across his legs and face.

Jayde pulled what looked like an EpiPen from her belt and jabbed it into his neck and then waited. She watched him slowly but surely return to his normal state.