Part 19 (1/2)

When Cooper was in his rightful place, Auguste would finally be strong enough. Strong enough to seek justice.

I grabbed my still-loaded backpack, throwing in the Bic lighter, then ran downstairs, past the smoldering embers of the vine guy, stomping on what was left of its head as I went. ”Take that, stick man.”

It turned to dust under my foot. Round one to Cooper Warner.

At least I had a way to beat those things. Now I just had to save my brother, find my girlfriend, and avoid my homicidal mother, maniacal stepfather, and a man-eating monster. Piece of cake. Right.

I ran out of there and into the woods. As soon as I hit the trees, the woods came to life, vines springing up around me, dropping down off the branches, curling in like hands reaching for my arms, my legs.

The creature was here, and he was letting me know that this time, he wasn't going to let me go.

The trees crackled with movement. A vine lifted the back of my hair and tickled at my neck. I yelped and leaped away, smacking at it. From farther in the woods, the creature began to laugh.

Just saying h.e.l.lo, Cooper. You're taking long enough to get here. Poor Faulkner *s about done. And I don't like to play with tired toys.

”Leave my brother alone!” I pulled out the knife, raised it in my hand like a caveman trying to threaten a T. rex. My wrist twinged.

I'd never be able to stab the thing with my wrist like that. I needed to brace that sprain. I dug in the pack again and found Megan's bandanna.

I'd see her wear it again. And I'd see her smile again. No matter what.

”Megan,” I whispered, and then I spun the bandanna tightly around my wrist, weaving it between my thumb and fingers like a flexible bandage. I picked up the knife and gave it a swing, then a jab. The sprain still hurt, but less than before. And best of all, I could hold the knife and use it.

Before I started off again, I loaded up my pack with whatever rocks I could see from the faint light cast by the moon, yanking them up before the vines could reach out and grab me. The rocks weren't much as weapons went, but then again, I wasn't much as heroes went, either.

All the while the creature laughed and laughed. I ignored him, letting my hatred build. One more weapon, I figured. My pack slammed against my back as I ran, rocks pinging my kidneys. I'd be paying for that later.

If I had a later.

The woods snapped and popped like a thousand bowls of Rice Krispies. The vine army ran with me, h.e.l.l's crosscountry team. And all the while, the creature lay at the bottom of that well, panting in antic.i.p.ation.

I could feel him now. Feel his breathing. Feel it as if he were part of me.

Come closer, Cooper. Hurry now. We're waiting for you.

Every breath I took drew in the scent of the well. It was as if the slime, the muck, and the putrid air were clawing their way into my lungs. I tried to breathe through my mouth instead, but the smell stuck to my clothes, my skin, me.

The creature was stronger now. So strong- Maybe too strong.

Would he get me before I got him? And keep me down there forever?

Would I turn into him?

No. I couldn't think that. Wouldn't. Concentrate, Cooper, I told myself. Concentrate.

Finally, I rounded the last tree and skidded to a halt a few feet from Faulkner. He was still slumped over, his body seeming pale, thinner. He wore only a T-s.h.i.+rt and jeans, his feet bare, his arms useless, tied to his sides so he could lift his hands only a few inches. He didn't move. I prayed for him to breathe, for him to flinch, blink. Anything.

Was he a dead?

G.o.d, please, no. Not my brother. Maybe we didn't always get along, barely tolerated each other some days. But we were brothers, and when it counted- It counted.

I bent down, reached out, then drew back, afraid to touch him, in case a ”Faulkner?”

He moaned, then lifted his head, his limp and stringy hair swinging across his face. His eyes were gla.s.sy, his lips barely moving. Had he been drugged? ”Cooper?”

Not dead. Relief ran over me like a tidal wave.

I scrambled to his side and reached for the rope binding him to the well. The knots were tight, tied by Hercules himself, I swore. ”Are you okay?”

”Don't.” He waved a hand at me. ”Don't a untie me.”

”We have to get you out of here.” I glanced around, but for now, the vine army stuck to the shadows as far as I could tell in the inky blackness. They had merged with the woods, their spiny bodies forming a second phalanx with the trees. Watching me. Watching Faulkner.

”We have to move fast,” I said, jerking at the ropes, but they held fast. Too tight, too thick-it didn't even feel like real rope or regular knots. What the h.e.l.l? If I could get the knife under the ropes, maybe that would do it.

Faulkner reached up a shaky hand and grabbed my left wrist. ”It's a too a late.”

The clouds s.h.i.+fted away from the moon, and a shaft of light dropped down over us. And over what really held him in place. It wasn't just ropes.

Vines covered Faulkner from head to toe, weaving in and out of every exposed inch of his body like an afghan of green. They wrapped in and around the ropes that were already there. They'd interlocked across his chest, crawled under his neck, and leapfrogged their way over his head, tugging down again in a macabre green veil. They laced over his legs, under his knees, then back over the stone wall. He was a c.o.c.kroach pinned to the well's science lab.

No, no, no. Not him, too. The thing wanted only me. I was the sacrifice; I was the one who was supposed to go down there and stay.

What was happening?

I clawed at the vines, trying to loosen them, but they barely moved. ”Who did this to you? Who would tie you to this thing and leave you here?”

”Mom did it,” he said, his voice so weak, I had to lean in to hear him. Faulkner waited for our gazes to connect across an impossible, ridiculous, horrible situation. ”To save you. And me.”

I cursed. ”But you're dying! How could she do this to you?”

”You don't understand.” His words were a whisper. ”The thing caught me first. She a stopped a” That was all he said.

I stared at Faulkner. Had I heard him right? ”What?”

Was he crazy? Maybe he'd been given something that had gone to his brain.

No response. Faulkner's head dropped to his chest and he zoned out. He was drained, as if everything vital had been sucked out of him.

The vine army still hung on the fringes, watching. Hyenas on the prairie. Waiting for the lions to finish their kill so they could scoop up the entrails. I glared at them, then turned back to my brother. ”Faulkner. You okay?”

He didn't move.

I shook him. ”Stay with me, dude. I'm going to get you out of here.”

He roused a little, and then his eyes met mine, and in his gaze I saw the last thing I'd ever expected to see in my older, stronger wise-a.s.s brother.

Resignation.

”Just leave me,” he said. ”Run. Fa a fast”-he took in a breath, let it out-”as you can.”