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Authors: Andrew van Wey
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the credits rolled Aiden didn’t even know who lived and who died and who went crazy. It was an ending as bleak as any Aiden had ever seen by age nine. And now, at age twelve, an ending that didn't seem so far fetched.
Sleep hadn’t come in the hours after the credits rolled. Brian had been scared, clearly so, and when Aiden was almost asleep Brian had snuck out to use the bathroom but never returned.
The monsters had gotten him, Aiden thought for hours. They had gotten his friend and he was next.
Dawn was a world away, and so he hid beneath the covers, waiting for the moment the door creaked open and a ghost white mutant with blood-soaked teeth entered the bedroom. Waiting for death, he realized.
But dawn did come, and somehow he had fallen asleep, or perhaps had drifted in and out. Brian returned at breakfast, confessing that he had been so scared he had snuck off to sleep in his parents' bedroom. He had abandoned him, Aiden remembered thinking. His best friend, he had left him to the creatures from the cave and his imagination.
Yet it had only been a movie that had caused Brian to forsake his friend that night two years ago. A movie they were never supposed to watch.
But this wretched night was no movie.
This was real. His friend lay dead on that great lawn, that no man's land between safety and sanctuary. He had abandoned Brian, no different than Brian had abandoned him on that dark night years ago. Part of him had never forgiven Brian for that, part of him never trusted Brian after that.
And he wondered: if Brian ever returned, would he forgive Aiden for leaving him to the monster?
15.
SLEEP CAME.
It was not a warm respite but a cut, a cold splice between time. There was something, then there was nothing. Then there was a foot in his ribs, nudging.
"Wake up," Freddie said. "Shh, get up!"
It felt odd to have slept. Impossible. Yet somehow his thoughts had drifted to darkness and the time had moved on without him. An hour, perhaps a little more. The candles had gone down, but not too much. And in that dim light Freddie seemed more composed, more put together. A sanity had returned to his eyes.
"How long was I out?"
"I don't know," Freddie answered. "It's two-fifteen."
"Is it still there?"
"No," Freddie said. "It's gone."
Aiden sat right up. "Really?"
"I think so."
Aiden hurried to the window, studied the yard. Sure enough, the thing was gone. In its place a half-dozen sprinklers clicked and clattered, spraying blooms of water across the dark lawn.
"Sprinklers went off a few minutes ago. When I looked it wasn't there."
The sky was unchanged, a grey cotton blanket. No moon, no stars. Yet the lawn glistened, a starry night in a world of wet shadows below. A single patch of grass was more disturbed than the rest. A few holes, some pieces torn out by finger and foot. Evidence of a struggle. And an empty space where their fallen friend had lain.
"Where's Brian?" Aiden asked. "Where did he go?"
"I don't know. Maybe it dragged him off into the woods. I was trying to work the radio when I heard the sprinklers go off. When I checked, they were both gone. Maybe it took him to the woods, I don't know."
The thought of Brian, shirtless and alone in those dark woods, disturbed Aiden deeper than he thought possible. Brian had always been scared of the dark, and Aiden knew of no place more shadowed than an oak forest on a moonless night. No worse place to be alone.
Not alone, he realized. He was with Mister Skitters.
Freddie fiddled with the radio, slapping the side and adjusting the antenna.
"FM's the same," Aiden said. "It doesn't get any channels."
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"’Cause it should be getting something. Like static at least, right?"
"I don't know, maybe," Aiden said, studying the yard below. "Even if we get something, so what? It's just a radio. We can't talk or anything."
"Piece of crap," Freddie said, slapping the silver shell of the old device.
Aiden traced the perimeter of the
Sleep hadn’t come in the hours after the credits rolled. Brian had been scared, clearly so, and when Aiden was almost asleep Brian had snuck out to use the bathroom but never returned.
The monsters had gotten him, Aiden thought for hours. They had gotten his friend and he was next.
Dawn was a world away, and so he hid beneath the covers, waiting for the moment the door creaked open and a ghost white mutant with blood-soaked teeth entered the bedroom. Waiting for death, he realized.
But dawn did come, and somehow he had fallen asleep, or perhaps had drifted in and out. Brian returned at breakfast, confessing that he had been so scared he had snuck off to sleep in his parents' bedroom. He had abandoned him, Aiden remembered thinking. His best friend, he had left him to the creatures from the cave and his imagination.
Yet it had only been a movie that had caused Brian to forsake his friend that night two years ago. A movie they were never supposed to watch.
But this wretched night was no movie.
This was real. His friend lay dead on that great lawn, that no man's land between safety and sanctuary. He had abandoned Brian, no different than Brian had abandoned him on that dark night years ago. Part of him had never forgiven Brian for that, part of him never trusted Brian after that.
And he wondered: if Brian ever returned, would he forgive Aiden for leaving him to the monster?
15.
SLEEP CAME.
It was not a warm respite but a cut, a cold splice between time. There was something, then there was nothing. Then there was a foot in his ribs, nudging.
"Wake up," Freddie said. "Shh, get up!"
It felt odd to have slept. Impossible. Yet somehow his thoughts had drifted to darkness and the time had moved on without him. An hour, perhaps a little more. The candles had gone down, but not too much. And in that dim light Freddie seemed more composed, more put together. A sanity had returned to his eyes.
"How long was I out?"
"I don't know," Freddie answered. "It's two-fifteen."
"Is it still there?"
"No," Freddie said. "It's gone."
Aiden sat right up. "Really?"
"I think so."
Aiden hurried to the window, studied the yard. Sure enough, the thing was gone. In its place a half-dozen sprinklers clicked and clattered, spraying blooms of water across the dark lawn.
"Sprinklers went off a few minutes ago. When I looked it wasn't there."
The sky was unchanged, a grey cotton blanket. No moon, no stars. Yet the lawn glistened, a starry night in a world of wet shadows below. A single patch of grass was more disturbed than the rest. A few holes, some pieces torn out by finger and foot. Evidence of a struggle. And an empty space where their fallen friend had lain.
"Where's Brian?" Aiden asked. "Where did he go?"
"I don't know. Maybe it dragged him off into the woods. I was trying to work the radio when I heard the sprinklers go off. When I checked, they were both gone. Maybe it took him to the woods, I don't know."
The thought of Brian, shirtless and alone in those dark woods, disturbed Aiden deeper than he thought possible. Brian had always been scared of the dark, and Aiden knew of no place more shadowed than an oak forest on a moonless night. No worse place to be alone.
Not alone, he realized. He was with Mister Skitters.
Freddie fiddled with the radio, slapping the side and adjusting the antenna.
"FM's the same," Aiden said. "It doesn't get any channels."
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"’Cause it should be getting something. Like static at least, right?"
"I don't know, maybe," Aiden said, studying the yard below. "Even if we get something, so what? It's just a radio. We can't talk or anything."
"Piece of crap," Freddie said, slapping the silver shell of the old device.
Aiden traced the perimeter of the
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