Part 22 (2/2)

The Well A. J. Whitten 56590K 2022-07-22

Toward the woods.

Cooper a oh, Cooper.”

Sam called my name like a mother coaxing back a runaway preschooler. I ducked lower behind the ma.s.sive oak tree and tried to catch my breath without making any noise. Just a few minutes, that was all I needed, and I'd be ready to run again.

”Don't make me call on them,” Sam said. ”Don't make this difficult.”

Call on whom? The vine men? I wasn't worried about them. I'd dug the lighter out of my backpack and had it in my hand. The knife in the opposite hand. I figured I was ready for whatever Sam was going to do.

Leaves crunched. He was close, maybe only two feet away. I slid down more. Held my breath.

”Don't say I didn't warn you,” he said. Then he spoke again in that language, releasing a few short words.

For a long second, nothing happened, and I thought I was in the clear. Then the trees began to move.

They lifted up out of the ground with earsplitting crunching noises. Their roots became legs, branches became arms, and tops swung down to become heads that seemed to be scanning the woods.

Looking for me.

The oak in front of me jerked up and I scrambled back, only to find myself hitting the legs of another tree. Whipple barked, and Sam- Sam laughed.

He called out another command. The trees turned as one and began to move toward me. Whipple went crazy, barking and circling, then took off running in the woods. I tried to run before the trees could reach me.

But I was battling impossible odds. Before I could move, the earth opened up again and began to swallow me, dragging me down, down, down, sucking me into the dirt like quicksand. Was this what had happened to Gerard and Auguste's mom? I dropped the lighter and knife, trying to fight against the dirt vacuum. I opened my mouth to scream, and a stream of dirt squirted upward, like a backwards waterfall, toward my face.

I shut my mouth, and dirt smacked against my closed lips. But it didn't give up, the brown granules building a snaking path up toward my ears, my nose- I was going to die.

The dark, heavy blanket sucked me down, squeezing my chest so I couldn't drag in another breath. Panic engulfed me, but I couldn't move, couldn't battle the giant sucking hole filling in around me as fast as it opened up. It was up to my chest, neck, chin, then under my nose. I closed my eyes.

Sam, you win.

Just as I was about to go under, I heard a m.u.f.fled scream, something that sounded like my name. I wanted to say it was too late, to let me go, but I couldn't. The dirt had walled my mouth shut.

Something charged past my head, then touched my shoulder. It latched on and began to pull. A hand, someone trying to a Save me?

Survival instinct kicked in. My feet began to work, pus.h.i.+ng against the dirt still trying hard to suck me in. I clawed with my fingers and at first felt as if I were going nowhere, and then my chin was free, my neck, my chest, my arm.

”Take my hand.”

I twisted and reached. And latched on to my mother.

”Hurry,” she said, her eyes wide with fear.

”How a ?”

She shook her head, placing a finger against her lips.

I nodded and crawled out of the hole with her help. I'd lost the lighter and knife, but it was a small price to pay for being alive.

She reached out and placed a hand on either side of my face, as if making sure I was okay. I hesitated, but then I saw she was Mom again, no craziness in her face, and I decided right then I'd trust her. She'd saved my life when she had had every opportunity to let me die.

”I called the police station,” she panted. ”When I heard Sam had been released I realized what he might do a”

She drew me in for a quick, tight hug and a kiss on my head. I swore just before she pulled away that I felt a tear drop onto my neck.

”Where is Sam?” I asked nervously.

”Sam went to get him,” my mother whispered. ”We need to run. Can you do that?”

The trees were closed in tightly, like a fence of forest. They stood still, watching, observing, maybe waiting for Sam to return and issue new orders. I could see gaps between their trunks, wide enough for us to sneak through.

”Yeah.”

We squeezed through a small gap between an oak and a maple but got only a few steps before Sam came cras.h.i.+ng through the forest. ”Where do you think you two are going?”

”Sam, leave him alone,” my mother said. ”Let him go.”

”No can do. He was bred for this. Thanks to you, Mom.” Sam barked out another series of orders, and we were ripped by the trees from where we stood, swung from tree to tree like rag dolls to our final destination.

The only one Sam had ever intended.

The well.

My mother and I landed in two crumpled heaps on the ground. I got to my feet, aching, hurt, but with nothing broken. My mother didn't move. Whipple came charging through the woods and nosed at her, whimpering.

”Mom?”

”She's served her purpose, Cooper. Let her go.” Sam strode up to the well, grinning like he'd won the lottery, his blond hair touched by the sun behind him.

”Do something! Help her!”

”I don't need her anymore. She was the incubator for you, and now she'll let me keep my hands clean. The mother killing her own son.” He laughed. ”No one would ever believe the truth about what really happened to dear Cooper.”

My mother moaned, and Whipple nudged her. But still she didn't get up. I wanted to go to her, to help her, but Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a switchblade. In one deft move, he depressed the b.u.t.ton and released the blade. It gleamed in the light, evil. Menacing.

Sam took a step closer. With a noisy, shuddering crunch, the trees closed ranks, sealing off my escape. ”In life, Cooper,” Sam said, ”we all need to make sacrifices for a higher purpose. And you, you need to sacrifice yourself so the rest of us can continue to live. We'll have a wonderful life, and so will so many more generations of Jumels. Then, in two hundred years, you'll have your turn.”

I backed up, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere but into the well.

”Today is a very special day, Cooper. Today is your-” He waved his hand, meaning for me to finish the sentence.

”Birthday.” I knew that, but the creature was dead. What did it matter anymore? Didn't Sam know what I'd done?

”And someone else's birthday, too.” He grinned, and it sent a chill down my spine. ”Not to mention, today is also the anniversary of Auguste's sacrifice. And the day he finally returns to the living.”

”I killed Auguste, Sam,” I said. ”It's over.”

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