Monster (13 page)

Angela eventually found herself in bed, alone under
her
covers. Supposedly alone, yet remarkably, she was
with
strange company in an alien world.

The World was alive. It had been for billions of years,
ever
since it could remember. Of course, nothing, no ma
tter
how alien, could remember death.
For that reason
the
World believ
ed it was immortal. Life would c
ome to its
surface, and it
would kill it in that special way, and eat it,
and
give it everlasting life as it became part of itself. The W
orld
would go on and on, and nothing, it believed, could stop
it.

The World was always hungry.

Especially for those who visited.

They were such easy prey.

Angela felt like a visitor as she walked through
the
flowered meadow. The sun was bright, yet somehow s
maller than
she remembered it should be. But that didn't mat
ter
. She had entered paradise
and
was happy. It had
bee
n
a long journey, an
d now she could rest, free and unw
atched.

Sweet aromas saturated the air. At a stream she knelt to
refresh
he
r
self with a drink. But before she could sample
t
he
water she sat up with a start. For the sun had suddenly
go
ne
behind a dark cloud that had not been there a minute
be
fo
re.
As it disappeared the meadow grew dark, but not
in
a normal way. The light changed to a sober red as the
ray
s
of
the sun filtered through the strange cloud, floating
in
t
he
sky above her head
l
ike some diseased heart
.

“God,”
Angela whispered, peering up at the sky.

But God was not there. Not in this place, surely
no
t.

Angela began to feel hot
.
A smell pushed its way into her nostrils. Not sweet or pleasant
–
but familiar. Yes, she
knew
what it was.

“No,” Angela whispered. “
No, God.
”

A
bolt of lightning cracked the sky. It could have split it
open,
the underbelly of a massive airborne demon. But it was just a cloud that had burst, although it was no ordinary cloud. Now drops of blood fell as rain to earth.

But wasn't that the f
a
tal joke? She wasn't on Earth,
could
n'
t be. She had travelled far to enter paradise and had accidentally stumbled into hell.

The
blood soaked her. Soon it was all she could smell,
a
ll
she
could see. A river ran red at her feet. But
the b
lood didn't just fall from the sky on to the World. First
it was
sucked up from the ground.

Someth
ing
mingled with the blood at her feet. This some
thi
ng
was the brain cells of the World. The cells that gave
the
World thought, desire,
cravings. The World had huge ap
pet
it
es that would never be filled. Such bittersweetness,
this
hunger, especially when it swam in the juices of
pre
vious harvests, around the raw flesh of the next
unsuspect
ing victim.

A
horrible pain started in Angela's feet. She screamed,
hoppin
g from foot to foot, trying to get away from the
million invisible teeth that were trying to devour her.
The
pain, though, was much too great. She couldn't main
tain
her balance. She tripped, and in an instant the mo
nster
in the blood was over her body, on her face, even
in
her mouth, where it began
to dine on the choicest of meats…

Angela sat bo
lt
upright in bed, her heart pounding, nightgown soaked. Before she could catch her breath
her
guts lurched, and
she had to run to the bathroom. She was barely in time to l
ose the contents of her
stomach into the toilet.
For
a minute she sat dazed on the fl
oor of
the
bathroom, drawing in deep, burning breath
s
that did li
ttle
to warm the awful coldness in her lim
bs.

I'm getting the flu
. It must be a killer
.

Eventual
ly
she made her way back to bed. But she di
dn’t
go back to sleep right away. She didn't want to have
that
dream again. Never.

CHAPTER
FIVE

Kevi
n woke her next morning by banging on her bedroom
door.
She moaned and rolled over. Her mouth was dry,
and
she could hear her h
eart pounding in her head. She k
new
it had t
o be Kevin. He
r grandfather never disturbed her
slumber. He was a great believer in sleeping late.
E
specially after a romantic evening.

“Go away,”
she called.

Kevin cracked open the door. “
Are you decent?
” he asked.

“
I'm stark naked.
”

“
Excellent
.”
He opened the door all the way and peered
in
at her. “
Are you OK?
”

She cl
osed her eyes.
“
I
don't know. I might have the
fl
u.
”

Kevin sniffed.
“
It smells like vom
it in here.”

“
I threw up in the night
.”

“
You shou
ld have thrown up in the toilet.”

“It was dark. I might have missed.”
She reopened her
eye. “What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“
No
way.”

“Way, José.”

“
Christ
,”
she said.

He sat on the bed beside her. “
Where were you last
night?
”

“
I
was here and I was there.”
She sat up, keeping the
sheet
pulled up tight to her chin. He could have seen
right
through the nightgown she was wearing, and she
didn’t
have a bra on. She spotted her clothes from the
night before balled up in the corner. Kevin might
have
sm
e
lled the dried blood as well a
s her vomit. “Is it really eleven?”
she asked.

“Yes.”
He
put his hand to her forehead. “You don't a fever.”

“
Good
.”
She didn't have a headache either
–
not ex
actly,
although her head felt strangely full, as if her brain
had
tried to expand during the night without her permi
ssion.
-She remembered her nightmare right then and
shud
dered. Where the hell had that come from?

“
Do you have
the
chills?
”
he asked.

“
No. I probably just ate something that didn't agr
ee with me.”

“What did you eat?”

“
Two hot dogs
.”
She hesitated.
“
I went to the game
last
night
.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn't you ask me?”

“You hate football.”

“But I like cheerleaders,”
he said.

“You wouldn't have gone. We won.”

He was surprised.
“Against Balton?”

“
We
killed them. Forty-two to nine.”

“
Amazing. How did
Jim
Kline play?
”
he asked.

“What?”

“
Jim
. The quarterback,
the one Mary thinks is the monster.”

“He was awesome.”

Kevin whistled. “
He
stank up the field last year. Maybe
he
has changed into something new.”

Angela glanced out at the lake. Plastic was lying on
the
balcony staring at the water, as usual. The glare of
the
sun on the lake made Angela's eyes ache.
“
I better
take a shower,” she said. “And get dressed.”

“
Can
I
watch?
”
Kevin asked hopefully.

She smiled wearily.
“When you're older.”

Kevin left the room and Angela showered. She jo
ined him at
the breakfast table not long after. She felt a bit
be
tt
er
.
Her appetite had def
initely returned; in fact, she was starv
ing. He
r grandfather's door was closed,
but he was
alrea
dy gone. He had left her a typed note on the kitchen
table.

Angel,

Went to Chicago to watch the horses run off
wit
h
my money. Take care of yourself. Try to do
som
ething your parents wouldn't approve of.

Your Old Man

“I ho
pe when I'm seventy I'm still getting laid as often as
he is,”
Kevin said when she had set the note aside. He had fe
tched
the paper
–
it was spread over the kitchen table
– a
nd had helped himself to their bread and peanut butter.

“
I
hope when I'm seventy you'll still be interested in me,
”
An
gela
said.

“By
older did you mean
that
old?”

Angela chuckled.
“
Time will tell.
”
She nodded to
the paper. “What's new in the world?”

Kevin l
ost his easy-going expression. “
You should know.
You said you were there last night.”

“What are you talking about?”

He
turned the paper her way. There was a picture of a
p
layer
from Balton High's football team on the front page. A handsome young man
–
his name was Fred Keith. The
article
was entitled MATADOR PLAYER CRIPPLED FROM
THE NECK DOWN.

Angela cringed.
“
What? They had to help the guy off
the fie
ld, but he didn't look bad. I can't believe this.
”

“He
has a tube down his t
hroat that's breathing for him.” Kevin
shook his head sadly.
“
He must have taken a hell of
a h
it.”

Angela read the article.