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Chapter Eight

While David changed out of his uniform, Patrick went to Alan and Chris’s house. Alan answered the door.

“Man, where were you guys?” Patrick nearly shouted. “We had to forfeit the game and Coach Clay went berserk!”

Chris, younger than Alan by less than a year—they were true Irish twins—sidled up next to his brother.

“We couldn’t go,” Chris said. “We don’t know where our parents are.”

Patrick laughed. “What, did they run away from home?”

Alan shook his head. His expression was dead serious. “They said they were going to a party last night and they never came back. I called my grandfather and he’s coming over. He should be here soon.”

The smile dropped from Patrick’s face. “That is so weird. I’m sorry.”

“My grandfather said they’re probably just sleeping it off at whatever house they went to, but I have a weird feeling,” Alan said.

“Well, let me know when they come home, okay?”

“Yeah.”

The door closed with a soft click.

Alan and Chris were the loudest kids on the block. It was unsettling, seeing them like that.

David called over to him from his porch. “Get your butt changed, bozak! I checked the paper. We can catch the early show if we hurry.”

Patrick dipped into his house and got out of his uniform. By the time he met David in the middle of the quiet street, his mind was off his friends and on the king of the monsters.

The Kendall movie theater was only a three-block walk from their house. It was a little on the worn side, but it had a balcony where you could throw candy from and the manager didn’t care much if you stayed in there all day.

“What did Alan and Chris say?” David asked, pulling small berries from a bush and tossing them at a parked car, leaving purple splat marks.

Patrick felt guilty for already putting them out of his mind. “They said their parents are missing.”

“What?”

“I know. Weird, right?”

“I wouldn’t mind if my parents disappeared…at least for a few days. But only after my mom shopped, so I’d have a house full of food.”

Patrick recalled the look on his friends’ faces. He wasn’t so sure getting a break from his parents would be such a cool thing.

The last block to the Kendall was a long, steep hill. Full trees on the corners below obscured the theater.

Virginia Avenue was always busy on a Saturday, but it sounded like there was something really big going on.

“It’s too early for the fair,” Patrick said. The Virginia Avenue street fair was an annual classic, but that wasn’t going to happen until the very end of summer.

“Why is everyone screaming?” David asked.

The boys slowed their pace.

They could hear the commotion loud and clear, but they couldn’t make out a damn thing.

There were a lot of shops on Virginia Avenue. Suppose one of them got robbed and there was a whole scene going on with hostages and cops and people running for cover?

Patrick damned his overactive imagination.

But he wasn’t imagining those panicked cries.

“Maybe we should just go home,” he said.

“Not before we see what the heck is going on,” David said, leading the way. Patrick reluctantly followed.

When the Kendall came into view, they stopped, shocked.

Yes, people were running in every direction, screaming their heads off.

But what was causing the riot put the boys’ heads in a spin cycle.

“What the hell are those things?” Patrick said breathlessly.

The things trying to grab people outside the Kendall were as black as night, with huge mouths. They had strong legs and thick tails, but their arms were small, like a T. rex’s. From here, they looked an awful lot like people in rubber monster suits.

David must have been thinking the same thing, because he started laughing.

“I’ll bet that’s part of the promotion for the Godzilla movies. They hired some guys to dress up as monsters and scare the balls off everyone. Too cool.”

“But wouldn’t they just scare people in the theater?” Patrick asked, reluctant to start walking again.

“Nah. This way, the whole neighborhood is focused on the Kendall. Watch. I bet they tell everyone it’s all just for fun. Those same monster guys will be handing out the comics when we go inside.”

“You’re probably right.”

“No. I’m always right.”

They resumed their pilgrimage to the holy Kendall, now the scene of the greatest Godzilla double-feature promotion of all time.

Until they spotted Mrs. Gilchrist, their English teacher, stumble into the middle of the street. Her face smacked right off the asphalt. When she lifted her head up, her nose was smashed flat, blood everywhere.

“Holy cow,” Patrick gasped. Now people were getting hurt. She’d end up suing the Kendall and they’d have no more movie theater.

“We should go down there and help her up,” David said. No one was paying attention to the older woman. She was on her knees, staring at the blood on her hands.

The boys made it as far as the corner when one of the black creatures grabbed Mrs. Gilchrist from behind, opened its dripping maw and bit her head clean off. When it pulled away, they stared in horror as blood skyrocketed from the stump of her neck.

Patrick grabbed David’s shirt, preventing him from taking one step closer.

“What the hell?” David shouted.

This was no promotion.

In their panic, other people were stumbling over one another. As soon as they fell, a creature was there to pounce on them, taking great hunks of flesh as souvenirs.

People were dying!

The beasts were feeding on them!

“We…we have to get out of here,” Patrick said, dragging David with him.

“What are those things?”

“I don’t know. But we can’t stay here.”

The creatures had no visible ears. But one of them must have heard Patrick, because it stopped chewing on the back of a man’s neck and looked straight at them.

It opened its mouth wide. They saw the rows of pointy teeth, the red, fleshy tongue. Thick, bloody mucous dripped from its narrow bottom lip.

They turned and ran as fast as they could, not daring to look back, not even pausing to vomit, just letting it run freely from their open, gasping mouths as they struggled to get away.