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  “Follow me,” she ordered, stepping into the hallway, heading in the direction of the boys’ bedroom. “A soda can, huh? That’s very clever, Daniel.”

  Chapter 13

  Sneaking In

  He pumped his fist in the night air and yelled. “Oh, yeah!” The buzz of adventure had taken hold of him and he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah!”

  Daniel, as he sprinted home in a race against time, glowed with excitement. He felt more alive than he had in a long time and, hardly breaking stride, climbed up and over an old chain-link fence and raced across the abandoned football field, its grass now overgrown and full of weeds.

  Being at Stevie’s house was more encouraging than he’d imagined. No, they hadn’t been able to make the stone come to life again. They tried everything they could think of, from dousing it with hot water to playing hot potato with it, but the stone just sat there, cold and black.

  But the important thing was that Stevie didn’t think he was crazy. As Daniel shared his secrets with Stevie, he felt the weight lifting and was overwhelmed with relief.

  “All right!” he said and raced home, his backpack jostling as he ran.

  ***

  “Daniel!” Emi shouted for a fifth time.

  No answer. Daniel was apparently ignoring her or nowhere in the vicinity. Either way, she was getting tired of his attitude. This wasn’t the first time he had disobeyed her and definitely not the first time he’d “snuck” out of the house.

  Who did he think he was fooling? She’d known of his escape route for ages—how he’d shinny down the tree outside his bedroom, cut across the bluff, and wind up at Stevie’s house with a smirk on his face, grinning with satisfaction at having pulled the wool over her eyes. If only they knew that she was on the phone with Stevie’s mom every time.

  Tonight was different, though. A feeling of uneasiness stirred within her. She didn’t know what it was—if it was simply her mother’s radar kicking in—but right now she simply wanted Daniel home safe and sound. Of course, it was the mother’s proverbial two-edged sword—once she saw he was home safely, the butt whipping would commence. “Bring him home safely, Lord,” she prayed, “so I can kill him.”

  Emi turned to Joshua, still pensive, his brow furrowed. “Keep calling for your brother,” she said. “I’m going to call Stevie’s mom and see if he’s there.”

  Joshua acknowledged her words but remained solemn. She tousled his hair and tried to ease his worries. “Everything’s going to be fine, Joshua. I promise.”

  Pacing nervously, she waited for an answer, which came after the fourth ring. “Hi, Debbie, it’s Emi. I’m sorry to be calling so late, but I’m trying to find Daniel. Is he there?”

  “I’ll go upstairs and check, but I haven’t seen him, Emi. Stevie’s been in his room for the last couple of hours.”

  “Would you mind checking? I don’t mind waiting.” Emi continued to pace the floor. Where is he? This has been the longest day. I just want it to be over.

  The thought was cut short. The slow creak of a door stopped her in her tracks. “Joshua?” she said, but received no answer. She stepped into the hallway and looked around the corner, but saw nothing. Could the noise have come from the basement?

  “Emi, he’s not here,” said the voice on the other end of the receiver. “Stevie’s asleep in his room.”

  “Thanks, Debbie. Goodnight.” She was counting on his being there and couldn’t hide her disappointment. She looked down the hallway toward the basement stairs. It was nothing. Quit imagining things, Emi.

  ***

  The rusted hinges of the basement door creaked when the creature opened it. That, he did not anticipate. He heard the woman’s voice coming from the kitchen. “Joshua!” it called. He disappeared behind the door and waited to see if the voice came closer.

  But it didn’t, and he skulked down the basement stairs like a phantom, the train of his cloak dragging the ground behind him.

  He was close now. Real close.

  ***

  Thirty yards or so to go and he’d be home free. Daniel pumped his fist in the air and turned the final corner for home. I’ll sneak in through the front door and be tucked into bed in no time flat. Mom will be none the wiser.

  “Daniel!”

  Oh, crap!

  He couldn’t believe it. It was Joshua, yelling from outside. I’m going to kill him. What is his problem, yelling bloody murder? He’ll wake up the whole neighborhood.

  Daniel’s hope of going unpunished was quickly evaporating. Or was he already caught? Had his mom discovered he was missing? If she has, I’m dead.

  He wasn’t giving up without a fight, though. Daniel considered his options. There was no way he could sneak in through the front door—absolutely no way. That was the direction Joshua’s voice was coming from. What about his bedroom window? He cursed out loud, realizing it was no good: 1) He had to climb up the balcony, which directly faced his mother’s bedroom. 2) He couldn’t remember if he left the bedroom window unlocked. If he got up there and couldn’t get the window open, well … he may as well put a bell around his neck and sound an alarm because he’d be done for.

  He had one chance: the basement stairs. If the door was unlocked, he could zip up to his bedroom and possibly get away with this. If the door was locked? He didn’t want to think about it. He enjoyed his playtime, television, and hanging out with friends. The thought of a ninety-nine-year grounding didn’t sound appealing. He quickly prayed for an unlocked basement door and charged ahead.

  ***

  Emi’s intuition radar was going full tilt. She didn’t know if she was a) scared, b) furious, c) annoyed or d) all of the above. Also, she didn’t know if she was going to a) give her son a huge hug when he got home, b) order him straight to his room until she figured out his punishment or c) wring his neck. She figured “d” and “c” were the correct answers and was contemplating them when the thought hit her. What was the noise she heard near the basement stairs? Was it Daniel sneaking back in?

  Emi shook her head, frustrated with herself. It made perfect sense. He’d snuck in through the basement and was now, she was willing to bet, tucked into bed pretending to be asleep, laughing to himself about how sneaky he was.

  We’ll see about that, Daniel. She headed toward the basement stairs; she needed to make sure he’d locked the door behind him. We’ll see how clever you really are.

  ***

  “Almost there!” he said, dodging the garbage cans. Daniel rounded the corner and came to a screeching halt. He was standing face to face with the creature from his nightmare—the man in the waterfall.

  His long black cloak was exactly as Daniel remembered it. There was a gold band on both sleeves that hung past his wrists, revealing the man’s boney, ashen fingers. The figure stood at least a foot taller than anyone he’d ever seen, with a slight bow to his back, as if he was used to reaching down. The hood of his cloak covered the top of his head and enveloped him in shadows. The man’s hair was oily black, hanging over his shoulders to his waist. Seeing his face, Daniel realized he wasn’t sure if it was actually a man or not. He looked human, but not human enough. There was something not normal about his face. It was too elongated, and the skin was too ghostly.

  Every instinct told him to run, but Daniel couldn’t move. His legs felt like toilet plungers stuck to the bathroom floor. Daniel was struck with a cruel irony. In his nightmares, when he was running from the bogeyman, he was able to run and leap as fast and high as he wanted. He defied gravity in those dreams. Now, when the metal hit the road, when the bogeyman had paid him a visit in real life, he stood quivering like a ripple in a pond, unable to move a muscle, frozen in his steps.

  The man’s eyes pierced Daniel like a burning spear and held him in their gaze. They stood in a stalemate, until the man turned his gaze downward and his eyes began to twinkle. He seemed entranced by something. But what? Then Daniel realized what it was—the stone in his hand. Daniel recalled how the onyx turned warm and glow
ed in his hand. “There are no coincidences,” he told himself. “This is no coincidence.”

  The man lifted his eyes from the stone, returning his attention to Daniel. But this time, his eyes weren’t twinkling. This time, they were filled with nothing but wickedness. The saying goes, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.” Well, Daniel had seen enough of this creepy guy to judge him twice over by his cover and know that he had no intention of shooting the breeze or starting up a Scrabble game. It was time to get the snot out of there. Come on legs, move!

  This time, his legs obeyed. He took off like a shot, acting on instinct. He turned the corner and, in one seamless motion, flung over both garbage cans to block the path. He knew he couldn’t run inside the house. The creature would follow him and that would put his mom and brother in danger. All he could do was run—run like a madman as fast and as far as he’d ever run before, which he did.

  It worked. The garbage cans actually worked.

  Daniel heard the man stumble over the cans then pumped his fist in the air. That should buy him a few extra seconds. Looking back, he saw the man pick himself up and let out a slow monstrous growl, one so menacing it sent shivers up his spine. Oh, man. If that ugly dude catches me, I better start making out my last will and testament. He hopped the short fence at the edge of the backyard and raced for the old, gravel road. Don’t look back, no matter what!

  ***

  Joshua was fed up with standing outside, calling for Daniel. No one listened to him when he had something important to say. Daniel threatened to beat him up and his mother ordered him around. He stepped down from the front porch.

  A feeling came upon him, causing him to flinch. He felt stinging prickles up and down his body and his skin grew hot. As he neared the southern end of the house, the prickling got worse and he began to sweat.

  He continued walking in the direction of the basement.

  Chapter 14

  The Chase

  He dared not look back but knew the man was giving chase; he heard his feet pounding the gravel road behind him. He felt his lungs were about to explode. That’s fine. If they explode, it will still be a heck of a lot better than getting caught by this ugly dude.

  Daniel couldn’t escape the big question on his mind: how was it possible he was running down a gravel road at ten thirty at night trying to escape a creature from his dream? “I must be dreaming,” he said. But Daniel knew it wasn’t a dream and didn’t dare stop running in order to prove himself right.

  Even worse, he heard the footsteps getting closer. He didn’t know how much of a lead he had, but it was shrinking and he wouldn’t be able to outrun the man for much longer. At least, not on this gravel road.

  Daniel had an idea. What advantages did he have going for him? The man was three feet taller than he was and could easily outrun him. The man was at least ten times stronger and would easily beat him in a fight. At this point, Daniel didn’t even know if the man was human or not. There was one advantage he had: familiarity. Daniel knew every inch of this land. As long as they stayed on the gravel road, the creature could see where he was going. But if he moved the chase off-road, into the woods, he might have a fighting chance. He quickly surveyed his surroundings and couldn’t believe his luck.

  A quarter of a mile up the road lay the hidden trail to his grandfather’s house. Daniel felt a glimmer of hope. If he could make it that far, he’d take this monster man on a journey he’d never forget. Pushing his body to the limit, Daniel raced ahead to put more distance between him and his pursuer.

  ***

  Peeling back the thorny entrance to the trail, he smiled to himself. Buttface (his new nickname for the pursuer) ought to get a kick out of this. He replaced the thorn branches and stepped into the woods. He’d evened the playing field. Advantage: Daniel.

  He sidestepped a jutting rock and raced into the darkness, where there were no streetlights to serve as guides or roads to act as maps. “Rock n’ roll!” said Daniel, stopping long enough to roll three heavy stones onto the path. “Let’s see how you like this, Buttface.” As he jumped over the first ditch, he heard the creature growl from the trail’s entrance. “I hope he liked the thorns. I wonder if he can bleed or not?” He skirted past a bramble bush. “One thing’s for sure, I’m not sticking around long enough to find out.”

  And he didn’t. He navigated the trail at top speed, but with a delicate gracefulness that allowed him to circumvent the obstacles surrounding him. He was in his element now and ran as one whose senses were working in perfect balance. He saw every rock lining the path that might trip him; he felt the amount of air coming into his lungs and knew how hard to push himself; and he heard every crackle of every branch, every gust of wind that blew—and the growl made by Buttface as he tripped over the log rolled into the middle of the trail. Daniel’s heart quickened. The monster wasn’t far behind and seemed to be navigating the trail with less difficulty than Daniel imagined. “Oh, crap,” Daniel said and kept running.

  He didn’t expect Buttface to prove so adept at traversing the rocky trail, especially with that heavy cloak dragging behind him, and hadn’t thought further ahead. He was swiftly approaching the trail’s end. Stupid, Daniel. How can you be so stupid?

  Daniel had one more trick up his sleeve. There was a huge ditch in the woods that was at least five feet across. It must be crossed to stay on the path, and the boys, long ago, placed a wooden plank there. Daniel stepped across the beam then dropped it to the bottom of the ditch, hoping that would buy him time. “If not,” he said, grimacing, “I may be in real trouble.” He crawled under a strand of barbwire and stood on the far lawn of his grandfather Tucker’s estate.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been running from this goon. All he knew was that he was tired and dripping with sweat. So far, the man had avoided all of the pitfalls Daniel set and was still hot on his trail. Daniel was forced to ask himself a very important question: How much longer would Buttface search for him?

  He knew the answer. This creature wouldn’t stop until he caught him, which left Daniel with one option. He’d need to hide from him—all night, if necessary. From behind, he heard the breaking of branches. Quick, Daniel. Where is there to hide?

  The answer came immediately. If there was any place to hide from this goon, he knew where it was. He ran like a madman for the arboretum gardens.

  ***

  Silence was his ally, so there was no way Daniel was going to risk opening the cast-iron gate. He might as well pull the trigger on an air horn or leave a trail of breadcrumbs for the goon to follow. “Darn it,” he said, approaching the gate for the second time that day. It was short of footholds, with iron spikes at the top. He threw over his backpack and climbed, making extra sure not to impale himself along the way. He breathed a sigh of relief as he landed safely on the other side without taking any spikes with him.

  He’d played enough games of hide-and-seek over the years to know every possible place to hide. But now he had to pick the best hiding place, and he mustn’t be wrong about it. Playing hide-and-seek with his mom and dad, if he got caught he could return to the picnic blanket and eat fried chicken. If he got caught now? Well, he didn’t want to think about it.

  He had to get to the western ridge. Here, the trees grew taller and denser, the bushes more camouflaged. He could build a makeshift cover on the ground, or perhaps cradle into a nook of branches in the highest tree. But first, he must get there.

  It was then the evening silence was broken by a sound he hoped not to hear—the groan of the gate being opened. He won’t quit! I really hate this guy. What did I do to him, anyway?

  Daniel recalled the encounter at the basement, the way the man looked at the stone, like he’d found a sparkling diamond. What if I give it to him? I’ll say, “Here you go, Mr. Bogeyman, here’s your stone. Now will you please quit chasing me and let me go home?” Why not? I don’t give a rip about it. I’ll hand it to him and he’ll leave me alone.

  Daniel entertained these th
oughts but never slowed his pace. In fact, he ran harder. He knew he’d as soon eat his mother’s terrible meatloaf for an entire year than turn over his stone to the goon. Daniel didn’t know what was so special about the onyx, but he’d seen enough television and read enough books to know the hero didn’t hand over his treasure to the bad guy when the going got tough.

  “He’ll have to peel it away from my cold, dead hands first,” Daniel said. And then he added, “I am really starting to hate this guy.”

  As he approached the western ridge, he formulated a plan. Close to the outer fence line, there was a small ditch near a maple tree. Once, during hide-and-seek, he ducked into this ditch and covered himself with the surrounding vines and shrubbery. It was incredibly uncomfortable but effective; Joshua searched for an hour and never found him.

  He needed time, though, and time was growing perilously short. He had to find the ditch in the darkness, gather enough shrubbery for concealment, and cover himself. He thought he heard footsteps behind him but wasn’t sure if it was his ears playing a trick on him. Seeing the tree ahead in the distance, Daniel made a dash for it.

  ***

  So this must be what pure terror feels like.

  It must be. He couldn’t imagine feeling more terrified than he felt in this moment, sitting in the grass, trying not to cry. The tears welled in his eyes, and everything inside him wanted to give up and let them come.

  Daniel found the ditch easily enough. There was one slight problem, though—he no longer fit in it. He’d grown several inches since that game of hide-and-seek. The ditch was useless to him now.

  He briefly considered building a suitable cover but knew there wasn’t enough time. The cloaked man would find him any minute now and heaven knows what he’d do to him. Daniel started to cry. Why me? What did I do to deserve this?

  He was about to give up, about ready to close his eyes and accept whatever torture Buttface could dish out when he remembered something his Dad told him a long time ago. “Boxers aren’t extraordinary men. They are ordinary men with extraordinary determination.” It resonated with Daniel then and it brought him a sliver of hope now.