Wanted (13 page)

After dinner, I watched a movie on TV with the girls. It was a comedy about a boy who switches bodies with his father. It was totally embarrassing, but the twins thought it was a riot.

The farmhouse had no wireless or Internet connection. So my laptop was useless. If my friends were trying to reach me online, too bad.

“You guys should get to bed,” Mom said. “Tomorrow is a big day. Halloween.”

The twins scurried off to their room. I wasn't feeling tired, but I went to my room and read for an hour or so. I was reading one of these
dystopian
novels. That's a book about when all the cities have been destroyed, and there are only a few survivors struggling to get by.

This book was about these people who find out they're the last family on Earth. They're not too happy about it.

Can you imagine if
my
family was the last family on Earth? Ha. Now
that
would be a
horror
story!

I didn't know how late it was. There was no clock in my room. Just a creaky, hard bed with a smelly quilt on it and a beat-up dresser and nothing else.

But my eyelids felt as heavy as rocks. And I was yawning and yawning. So I figured it was time to go to sleep.

I thought about tomorrow. I hoped Dad would let me work the cash register again. I felt safer in that little shed.

I changed into my pajamas. They were Spider-Man pajamas. My dad's idea of a joke. He knows I'm not into superheroes. At least they were warm.

I clicked off the ceiling light, climbed under the ratty quilt, and pulled it up to my chin. The pillow was soft, but I could feel the feathers inside it on the back of my head.

A glow of silvery moonlight washed into my room from the window facing my bed. The window was open, I realized. The curtains fluttered softly on both sides.

It had stopped raining, but I could still hear the patter of raindrops falling from the trees. The wind through the window felt warm, warmer than during the day.

I gazed at the window, waiting for sleep to creep over me.

Something moved. Something outside.

In the silvery moonlight, I saw shadows at the window. Something rose into view, then slid back down.

Blinking, I sat up straight. And peered through the dim light at the open window.

Again, I saw shadows reflected on the fluttering curtains. Something stretched up … straight up. It appeared to coil toward the window.

It was slender and pointed at one end. Not a snake. No. Not a snake.
Too big
to be a snake.

It swung against the side of the window. Then appeared to sway from side to side.

Then it curled onto the window ledge.

And I recognized it. I knew what it was.

I didn't believe it. But I saw it clearly now.

A pumpkin vine.

A single vine sliding over the window ledge into my room.

Yes. Stretching silently toward me.

And as I gaped, frozen in horror, unable to speak, unable to make a sound, I saw a second one. Yes. A second vine. Fatter. Thicker.

It rose up beside the first vine. Coiled around it. The vines curled together. Like shoelaces being tied.

Then they came apart. Thrashing. Whipping each other. Pushing … pushing into my room.

Pale and gleaming in the moonlight, they slithered over the window ledge — reaching for my bed … reaching for ME.

I opened my mouth to call for help. But no sound came out.

Besides, my parents' room was at the far end of the hall. They wouldn't hear me.

And they wouldn't believe me. I knew what would happen if I ran down to their room and dragged them back. The vines would be gone.

And Dad would frown at me. And accuse me of making up another story because I didn't want to be on this farm.

No way Mom or Dad would believe this. Who would?

I gripped the edge of the quilt so tightly, my hands ached. Sitting up straight as a board, every muscle tense, I watched the two vines thrash and twist and crawl into my room.

The curtains fluttered harder, as if trying to get away from the intruders. The moonlight made them glow like they were electric.

I forced myself out of bed. The floorboards were cold beneath my bare feet. My whole body shook and shuddered.

It's like a horror movie. Only it's real. And it's happening to ME.

Okay. I knew I had to do something. I was all alone here. No one to help me.
Devin O'Bannon Versus the Creeping Vine Creatures.

Go, Devin! Go, Devin!

I took a deep breath and held it.

Then I dove forward. Dove to the window. I dodged around the two vines curling through the air. Dodged around them, my heart doing flip-flops in my chest.

Still holding my breath, I lurched to the window. I raised both hands to the top of the frame — and I
slammed
it shut as hard as I could.

Slammed it down onto the vines. Slammed it. Slammed it on them.

They groaned. A sick, ugly sound. Like a burp from deep in a fat belly.

I heard them groan as the wooden window frame sliced right through them.
Slissssh.

Yes!

It sliced through the vines. Cut them. Cut them off.

The vine ends thudded to my bedroom floor. A foot long. No. Maybe longer. They dropped heavily to the floor and didn't move.

Finally, I let out a long whoosh of air and breathed again. I stared down at the thick lumps at my feet. And I took breath after breath.

A hard tapping on the window glass made me raise my eyes.

And to my horror, I saw the two cut vines, dark liquid trickling from their open ends. The vines, cut off at the ends, oozed a thick liquid.
Like blood.

I gasped as they bumped up against the glass. Battered the glass, then pulled back — and batted the window again. Again.

They won't stop until they break in.

“Noooo!” I let out a scream. I dove to the window.

“Go away! Now! Go away!” I shrieked. I pounded the window glass with both fists. “Go away! Go! Go!”

I stood there in a terrified panic, pounding and screaming at the thrashing vines on the other side of the window. “Get away from here! Get away!”

I didn't stop screaming until a crash behind me made me nearly jump out of my skin. I wheeled around. “No! Go away!” I cried.

It took me a few seconds to realize the crash had been my bedroom door swinging open. My dad burst in, tying the belt of his bathrobe as he entered.

He squinted through the darkness at me. “Devin? What's going on? I heard you screaming. Why are you at the window?”

“Dad, it — it's the vines!” I stammered. “Come here. Quick. Look.” I pointed frantically out the window. “The vines —”

He followed my gaze. Of course, the window was empty now. The glass reflected the pale white moonlight.

Nothing there.

“Vines?” Dad asked, narrowing his eyes at me. “Devin, were you having another nightmare?”

“No, Dad,” I started. “I haven't been asleep. The vines were crawling into my room. I was so frightened. I —”

Dad gazed down at the floor beneath the window. He clicked on the ceiling light. Then he moved quickly to the window, his bare feet thudding on the floor.

He bent down and picked up the two stubs of vine. The ends I had sliced off. He held them up and examined them.

“See?” I cried. “Proof, Dad. The vines were climbing into my window. See? I'm telling the truth.”

Dad turned to me, holding a vine stub in each hand. “How did these get here, Devin?”

“I cut them off. I cut them with the window.”

“But how did they get in your room? Are your sisters playing one of their tricks on you?”

“No, Dad. No trick. Don't you believe me? There's proof. The two vines, they were moving, climbing in through the window.”

“But, Devin,” Dad said. “Come here.”

I walked over to the window. He put his hands on my shoulders. “Look out there.” He turned me to the window. “Look down on the grass. It's nearly as bright as day in the moonlight. Do you see any vines?”

I squinted down into the backyard. No vines.

I saw a shovel lying in the grass. Near the garage, one of the twins' bikes lay on its side. And I saw the cat….

Zeus sitting up straight on his haunches, his face tilted toward my window. The black cat, surrounded by a pool of silver moonlight, green eyes glowing. Watching the window. Watching me stare down at him.

“Dad,” I whispered, “there's something weird about that cat.”

Dad pressed his face against the glass and peered down. “Yes, you're right. That cat never sleeps. It's a very weird cat.”

“Dad, you don't believe that the soul of a dead person can rise up and take the shape of something else … I mean, like a cat, for instance? You don't believe that a human can inhabit a cat?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Where do you come up with these crazy stories, Devin? Really. Sometimes I think you're from another planet.”

He dropped the two vine stubs onto the window ledge. Then he led me back to my bed.

“So I guess you don't believe me about the vines trying to climb through my window?”

“Of course not,” he said. He pulled down the quilt and waited for me to climb under it. “Next thing, you'll say that a bunch of pumpkins rolled across the field, bounced up, and jumped on you.”

“Funny,” I muttered.

“Go to sleep, okay?” He tucked the quilt under my chin. Then he patted my cheeks the way he always does. “Everything will be fine, Devin. We're doing great. Try to enjoy it.”

Enjoy it?

He shut off the light and made his way out of my room.

I'm on my own
, I realized.

I'm the only one who knows there's something terribly frightening about this farm.

I'm the only one who can do something about it.

I had to talk to Haywood. He was the only other person who would believe what was happening here. Maybe he could help.

Haywood knew about the Grave-Master. And he was afraid of Zeus. So he probably figured out that Zeus held the angry spirit inside him. The black cat was the Grave-Master.

Zeus was behind all the terrifying things that were happening. The cat was always there, watching everything.

He controlled the angry energy of the pumpkin field. He controlled the vines, the pumpkins, everything.

And what did he want? To scare us away so the dead could sleep in peace?

Did that mean he had something horrifying planned for tomorrow — Halloween?

I heard a soft thump. Then another.

I sat up. I gazed at the windowsill. Empty.

I lowered my eyes to the floor. And uttered a soft cry.

The two vine stubs. As I stared in disbelief, they were inching their way toward my bed.

Inching their way, like big worms. Moving silently and steadily across the room toward me.

“Noooo!” An angry wail burst from my throat.

I shoved the quilt aside and leaped to the floor. Without thinking I ran up to the crawling vine stubs.

And I began jumping up and down on them with my bare feet.

“Die! Die! Die!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs.

The vines squished and splattered under my feet. They felt hot and wet on my soles.

“Die! Die! Die!”

I screamed and stomped on them. Stomped on them until they were a pulpy mush that stuck to the soles of my feet.

Gasping for breath, I gazed down at the green-yellow mess on my bedroom floor.

I bent over, spread my hands over my knees, and struggled to catch my breath.

I had defeated them for today.

But what about tomorrow?