18 - Monster Blood II (6 page)

It was a little after eight o’clock. They were standing in the street in
front of Conan’s house. Leaning against the low hedge, they stared across the
sloping front lawn into the large picture window in the front of the house.

The lamp in the living room was lit, casting a dim rectangle of orange light
that spilled onto the front yard. The old trees at the sides of the small brick
house whispered in a hot breeze.

“Are we really doing this?” Evan asked, huddling close to Andy. “Are we
really going to break into Conan’s house?”

“We’re not going to
break
in,” Andy whispered. “We’re going to
sneak
in.”

“But what if the Monster Blood isn’t there?” Evan asked, hoping she couldn’t
see his knees trembling.

“We
have
to look, don’t we?” Andy shot back.

She turned to study his face. He saw that she was frightened, too. “The
Monster Blood will be there,” she told him. “It’s
got
to be.”

Bending low, she started to creep across the dark yard to the house.

Evan hung back. “You checked it out?” he called to her. “Everyone is really
gone?”

“His parents left right after dinner,” Andy told him. “Then I saw Conan go
out about ten minutes ago,”

“Where?” Evan demanded.

“How should I know?” she asked sharply, putting her hands on her waist. “He
left. The house is empty.” She came back and tugged Evan’s arm. “Come on. Let’s
sneak into Conan’s room, get the Monster Blood, and get out of here!”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Evan said, sighing. “We—we could be
arrested!”

“It was
your
idea!” Andy reminded him.

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He took a deep breath and held it, hoping it would help
calm him down. “If we don’t find it right away, we get out of there—right?”

“Right,” Andy agreed. “Now come on.” She gave him a little shove toward the
house.

They took a few steps over the dew-wet grass.

They both stopped when they heard the low barking.

Andy grabbed Evan’s arm.

The barking grew louder. They could hear the dog’s heavy paws pounding the ground, approaching fast.

Two angry eyes. A loud warning bark. Another.

The dog attacked at full speed.

“Run!” Evan cried. “Conan has a guard dog!”

“Too late to run!” Andy shrieked.

The dog barked again.

Evan cried out and threw up his hands as the dog leaped for his throat.

The dog wasn’t as big as Evan had thought—but it was strong.

It licked his face, pressing its wet snout into his cheek.

It licked his chin. And then his lips.

“Yuck!” Evan cried, laughing. “Trigger—how did you get here?”

Evan pulled the cocker spaniel off him and lowered it to the ground. Its
stubby tail wagging furiously, Trigger started jumping on Andy.

“Your dumb dog scared me to death,” she moaned.

“Me, too,” Evan admitted. “I didn’t hear him following us, did you?”

Andy squatted down and gave Trigger a few quick pats. Then she glanced down
the street.

“Let’s get inside,” she said. “Conan or his parents could be back any
minute.”

Trigger pranced along as they made their way over the grass to the front
door. The house loomed much bigger and darker as they crept onto the stoop.

“Down, Trigger. Stay down,” Evan whispered. “You can’t come in with us.”

Andy tried the front door. “Locked.”

Evan groaned. “Now what?”

“We try the back door, of course,” Andy replied. She had already jumped down
off the stoop and was heading around the side of the house.

“You’ve done this before—haven’t you?” Evan demanded, following her.

“Maybe,” she replied, grinning at him in the dark.

A loud howl somewhere nearby made them both stop.

“What was that?” Evan cried.

“A werewolf,” Andy told him calmly. “Or maybe a cat.”

They both laughed. Nervous laughter.

The back door was locked, too. But the kitchen window was open a crack. Evan
pushed it open wider, and they crept into the dark kitchen.

Holding his breath, Evan could hear every sound. Their sneakers scraped
noisily against the linoleum. The refrigerator hummed. Water swirled in the
dishwasher.

I can even hear the pounding of my heart, Evan thought. What am I doing? Have
I really broken into Conan’s house?

“This way,” Andy whispered. “His room is probably upstairs.”

Evan kept against the wall as he followed Andy to the front stairs. They
passed the small living room, bathed in orange light. The floorboards creaked
under their shoes. Evan stumbled over a pile of old newspapers stacked in the
narrow hallway.

Up the wooden stairs. The banister squeaked under Evan’s hand. A Venetian
blind rattled against an open window, startling him.

“Sure is dark,” Andy muttered as they reached the top of the stairs.

Evan tried to reply, but his breath caught in his throat.

Holding onto the wall, he followed Andy to the first bedroom. She fumbled
until she found a light switch, then clicked it on. The ceiling light revealed
that they had found Conan’s room.

They both stood in the doorway, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the
light. Then they quickly glanced around.

The walls of the small, square room were filled with posters of sports stars.
The biggest poster, above Conan’s bed, showed Michael Jordan jumping about ten
feet in the air as he slam-dunked a basketball. A bookshelf against one wall held very few books—but was loaded
with sports trophies that Conan had won on various teams.

Suddenly, Andy started to laugh.

Evan turned to her, startled. “What’s so funny?”

She pointed to Conan’s bed. “Look—he still has a teddy bear!”

Evan turned his eyes to the bed, where a forlorn-looking, nearly flat,
one-eyed teddy bear rested on the pillow. “Conan the Barbarian?” he cried,
laughing. “He sleeps with a teddy bear?”

A loud creak made them cut their laughter short.

They listened hard, their eyes wide with fear. “Just the house,” Evan
whispered.

Andy shivered. “Enough fooling around. Let’s find the Monster Blood and get
out of here.”

They moved into the center of the room. “Where do you think he hid it?” Evan
asked, pulling open the closet door.

“He didn’t,” Andy replied.

“Huh?” Evan spun around.

Andy had the blue can of Monster Blood in her hand. Grinning, she held it up
to show Evan.

Evan let out a surprised cry. “You found it? Where?”

“Right on this shelf,” she replied, pointing. “He put it next to his tennis
trophies.”

Evan hurried over to her and took the blue can from her hand. As he held it
up to examine it, the lid popped off.

The green Monster Blood began bubbling over the top of the can.

“It’s growing fast!” Evan declared.

Andy stooped down and picked up the lid. She handed it to Evan. “Put it back
on. Hurry.”

Evan tried pushing the lid back on. It kept slipping off.

“Hurry up,” Andy urged. “We’ve got to go.”

“The Monster Blood—it’s up over the top,” Evan cried.

“Shove it down,” Andy instructed.

Evan tried pushing the green gunk down into the can, pressing against it with
the palm of his hand. Then he tried pushing it with three fingers.

He gasped as he felt the green goo tighten around his fingers and start to
pull them down.

“It—it’s got me!” Evan stammered.

Andy’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

“It’s got my fingers!” Evan cried shrilly. “It won’t let go!”

As Andy hurried to help him, they both heard the front door slam.

“Someone’s home!” Evan whispered, tugging to pull his fingers free. “We’re
caught!”

Andy froze in the center of the room, her eyes wide with horror.

Evan nearly dropped the can of Monster Blood. The sticky green substance
tightened its grip on his fingers, making loud sucking sounds.

But Evan only cared about the sounds coming from downstairs.

“I’m home!” he heard Conan shout.

“We’re home, too!” It was a woman’s voice, probably Conan’s mother.

“They’re all home,” Evan whispered.

“We’re dead meat!” Andy murmured.

“I’m going upstairs,” Conan called to his parents.

Evan let out a terrified cry as he heard Conan’s heavy footsteps on the
stairs. “Andy—wh-what do we do?” he stammered.

“The window!” she replied.

They both lunged toward the open window and peered out. A narrow concrete ledge stretched just beneath the window.

Without hesitating, Andy raised a leg over the windowsill and climbed out
onto the ledge. “Evan—hurry!” she whispered, gesturing frantically.

Evan was still desperately trying to pull his fingers from the bubbling green
goo. Andy reached in through the window and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Evan—!”

He heard Conan’s footsteps in the upstairs hall just outside the bedroom.

Using his free hand for support, Evan scrambled out the window and joined
Andy on the narrow ledge.

“D-don’t look down,” Andy instructed in a trembling whisper.

Evan didn’t obey. He glanced down. The ground seemed very far below.

They each stood on a side of the window—Andy to the left, Evan the right.
They pressed their bodies against the brick wall—and listened.

They heard Conan step into the room.

Did he notice that the light had been turned on?

No way to tell.

Loud rap music suddenly jarred the silence. Conan had turned on his boom box.
He started chanting off-key along with the music.

Evan pressed as tightly against the side of the house as he could.

Go back downstairs, Conan,
he pleaded silently.
Please
—
go
back downstairs!

How will Andy and I ever get away from here? he wondered, feeling all of his
muscles tighten in panic.

Despite the hot night air, a cold chill ran down Evan’s back. He shuddered so
hard, he nearly toppled off the ledge.

The blue can stuck to his hand. The Monster Blood sucked at his fingers. But
he couldn’t worry about that now.

He could hear Conan moving around inside the room. Was he dancing to the loud
music?

Evan glanced across the window at Andy. Her eyes were shut. Her face was
clenched in a tight frown.

“Andy—!” Evan whispered. He knew that Conan couldn’t hear a whisper over
the booming music. “Andy—it’ll be okay. As soon as he leaves, we’ll jump
inside and sneak down the stairs.”

Andy nodded without opening her eyes. “Did I ever tell you I’m afraid of
heights?” she whispered.

“No,” Evan replied.

“Well, remind me to tell you!”

“We’ll be okay,” he murmured.

Clinging to the side of the house, Evan kept repeating those words to
himself. “We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Then Trigger started to bark.

A low bark of surprise at first. And then a louder series of barks, insistent
barks, excited barks.

Evan swallowed hard. He glanced down to the ground.

Trigger was peering up at him, jumping against the side of the house, as if
trying to reach the ledge. The dog barked louder with each jump.

“Trigger—no!” Evan called down in a frantic whisper.

That only made the dog bark more furiously.

Did Conan hear it? Could he hear Trigger’s ferocious barks over the music?

“Trigger—stop! Go home! Go home!”

Suddenly the music stopped.

Trigger’s excited barks rose up even louder against the new silence.

Conan
must
hear them now, Evan realized.

The cocker spaniel threw himself wildly against the side of the house, trying
to get up to Evan and Andy. Despite Evan’s frantic signals to be quiet, the dumb
dog barked his head off.

Evan’s breath caught in his throat as he heard Conan making his way to the
window.

A second later, Conan stuck his head out. “What’s going on?” he shouted.

Evan’s knees buckled. He started to fall.

Evan clung to the brick wall and stopped his fall.

He stared at Conan’s blond hair poking out the window. Evan was close enough
to reach out and touch it.

“Shut up down there!” Conan shouted.

That made Trigger bark even louder.

He’s going to see us, Evan thought, trembling all over.

There’s no way Conan won’t see us.

“Conan—come downstairs!” Mrs. Barber’s voice floated up from downstairs.
“Conan—come down and have your cake and ice cream. You said you were dying for
dessert!” she called.

Conan’s head disappeared back into the bedroom. “There’s some stupid dog
barking down there,” he called to his mother.

Clinging to the side of the house, struggling to keep his quivering knees
from buckling again, Evan shut his eyes and listened.

He heard Conan’s footsteps cross the room. The bedroom light went out.

Silence.

“He—left,” Evan choked out.

Andy let out a long breath. “I can’t believe he didn’t see us out here.”

Evan glanced down to the ground. Trigger had finally stopped barking. But he
continued to stand and stare up at them, his front paws against the side of the
house, his stubby tail spinning like a propeller.

“Dumb dog,” Evan muttered.

“Let’s go,” Andy urged. She didn’t wait for Evan. She practically did a swan
dive into the house.

It took Evan a few moments to get his legs to work. Then he ducked his head
and climbed through the window after Andy.

Holding his breath, he led the way on tiptoe to the bedroom door. He stopped
and listened.

Silence. No one in the dark hallway.

He could hear the Barbers’ voices downstairs in the kitchen.

He and Andy made their way to the top of the stairs. Then, holding tightly to
the banister, they crept halfway down.