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Chapter Twelve

Patrick landed hard on his back. The bat clattered into the gutter. His breath whooshed hot and hurriedly from his lungs.

Straining his head back, he watched upside down as the bloody German shepherd latched onto one of the creatures. It was loping hungrily toward them, downwind, so they hadn’t been able to smell it coming, much less hear it.

The oversized sea serpent thrashed and wailed, its cries sounding like a cross between a yowling cat and a trilling blue jay, completely at odds with its massive and deadly appearance. David was already on his feet and trying to lift Patrick up.

“Let’s go!” he barked.

Patrick found his bat and ran, glancing over his shoulder at the same moment the sea serpent tore the dog in half.

“Oh crap,” he huffed. “It’s still coming!”

The sea serpent dragged the halves of the dog, munching on the tail end as it ran. Now, this close, Patrick knew for sure that the things grew as they ate. The creature easily wolfed down the dog the way he’d cram a Pop-Tart into his mouth on mornings when he was late for school. When the thing was done eating, Patrick swore its head was bigger, the legs more muscular, propelling it even faster.

He looked at their bats, realizing with sinking dread that they may as well have been carrying wands for all the good they would do.

They were coming up to the turn onto Tuckerville Road. This was a main thoroughfare for the town. He couldn’t remember ever not seeing the streets chock-full of cars, even late at night.

Today’s traffic report called for empty streets with a commute that could be as quick as you could gun the engine of your car.

Patrick and David ran side by side, but they were slowing down. The day was taking its toll on them, and their legs felt heavy, their ribs aching from taking what seemed like endless streams of deep, worried breaths.

The sea serpent was only ten feet behind them. Patrick could hear and even feel its heavy footfalls through the soles of his sneakers. The wind shifted and the full vileness of its stench hammered them like a billy club.

“Get down, boys!”

The booming voice startled them.

An older man stood on his lawn holding a very imposing rifle. He fired once, the shot buzzing just over their heads. The boys dove to the ground, skinning their knees on the pebbled sidewalk.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Every shot was a direct hit in the sea serpent’s head. The assault stopped it in its tracks. It leaned on its thick tail, arms dangling at its sides, unable to fall completely on its back.

Grayish ichor leaked from the four wounds.

“Great shooting,” David said to the man.

He looked at them with wide, glassy eyes, his white hair puffed out like cotton balls on the sides of his head. “I…I did it. You boys should go in my house. The front door’s open. You’ll be safe.”

“We have to get to someplace on Tuckerville Road,” Patrick said.

“There’s nothing there for you to go to. I have a bomb shelter in my basement. You can stay in there until this blows over.”

The monster still hadn’t fallen, but it no longer looked like it was breathing. Patrick still couldn’t believe that this thing came from a simple, stupid Amazing Sea Serpents kit.

“That’s okay,” David said, grabbing Patrick by the elbow. “Thank you for saving us. We’ll be fine.”

The man glared at them with narrowed eyes, his lips drawn tight. “I’m not asking you, boy. I’m telling you. It’s for your own good.”

“No, really, we can take it from here,” David replied, sounding very nervous.

Patrick was transfixed by something else.

He watched the bullet holes start to close up, the puckered flesh flattening out, stopping the rush of vital fluids from pouring forth. The sea serpent’s chest heaved once…twice.

“Uh, David.”

“Now get inside before I get angry.”

Patrick’s stomach dropped when he saw the rifle pointed at him. The old man looked mad enough to spit nails.

David whispered out the side of his mouth, “We can’t go in there. That’s the pervert everyone talks about. They say he went to jail for messing with a ten-year-old boy.”

Patrick looked past the man at the worn colonial house behind him, suddenly realizing it was the place parents warned them never to go near. Patrick’s father made him promise he would always cross the street when he came near it and never, ever engage the man who lived there.

The hammer clicked back on the rifle.

“I’ll give you boys to the count of two.”

Patrick jumped when the revived sea serpent used its tail to launch itself at the aging pederast, sailing the fifteen feet between them with savage ease. It soared onto him from above like a bird swooping down for a fat worm. It opened its mouth wide, swallowing the man from the head all the way to the middle of his chest.

The rifle went off. David spun on his heels, crying out.

The sea serpent gnawed on the man as if he were a hunk of rawhide.

“Are you hit?” Patrick asked, wondering what the hell he would do if David was shot and couldn’t keep going.

David had a hand over his upper arm. A small trickle of blood snaked down to his elbow. He pulled his hand away. There was a bloody furrow in his flesh.

“I think it just grazed me, but it burns like hell.”

“Can you run?”

“Of course I can. He shot my arm, not my legs.”

“Well then, hurry up, before he finishes eating the kid toucher.”

The old man was much more substantial than the dog. The sea serpents couldn’t seem to break away from a meal once they started. Hopefully that would give the boys enough time to get well away from this one.

Patrick and David dashed onto Tuckerville Road. The shops were empty, the entire street closed up, probably for the first time ever.

“We’re screwed,” David said.

They kept running, wanting to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the masticating sea serpent.

Then Patrick saw something in the distance, right where the funeral home would be.

“Maybe not yet,” he said, using the little stores of energy he had left to pick up the pace.