Read Online Lucretia and the Kroons by Victor LaValle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Victor LaValle
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for a flock of them to tear through a twelve-year-old girl? To chomp through her clothes and even her skin until they were left to gnaw on her bones.
Loochie lost a sense of what she was looking for and ran around the perimeter of the playground wildly, trying to get away. She ran toward the jungle gym, thinking she might climbinto one of its tunnels, but then thought better of it (the two sides of the tunnels were completely open) and broke for the metal awning instead. But this wasn’t any better. The rats could certainly fly right underneath.
The rats flew in circles above the playground. They squeaked in high-pitched choruses as their wings flapped. She headed back to the gates she’d first come through. Maybe the Kroons really would be there waiting for her, but she didn’t know what else to do.
She didn’t even make it halfway to the open gates before the rats attacked. She felt them approaching. Their wings sent gusts of air downward. The winds shook her mother’s wig and almost knocked it right off her head.
The cloud of rats descended. They slammed into Loochie’s back and sent her facedown on the playground’s plastic mats. The cloud passed over her prone body. She felt claws scrambling across her back. Her sweater and T-shirt were no protection. She screamed but couldn’t hear herself over the beating of those wings.
She was too dazed to do anything but watch them come for her. The flock of rats spread their wings as one, which made the cloud seem to expand to twice its size. Each rat slowed, gliding down.
Some of the rats landed on top of her head, on her mother’s wig. They landed on her shoulders. They grasped on to her arms, digging their claws into her sweater, through the cotton, cutting into her skin. Ten rats settled on her back. It was like being trampled on by a panicked crowd. They wriggled and clawed at her. And before she could even register her disgust all those rats started flapping their wings again, furiously.
If she shut her eyes she might’ve thought she was standing up, by her own power. But she didn’t shut them so she saw what was happening. The rats had pulled her up. The rats on her head snatched off the wig. They looked down and squealed when they realized they hadn’t caught her scalp. They dropped the wig and it fell to the ground, then they dug into her real hair. They pulled and Loochie cried out. The rest of the flock had gone to the air a second time and came back at her again.
Now that Loochie was upright another dozen rats clamped on to each of her legs. They crawled on her thighs, her shins, her butt. They dug their claws into her jeans and she felt their weight tugging at her. She watched their wings expand.
They lifted her into the air.
She was flying.
Floating, really, and only a few inches, but the rats kept beating their wings and her body rose. She was three feet high and rising. They were taking her somewhere. Whatever they were going to do to her, they weren’t going to do it here. Maybe they’d drag her back to that darkened bedroom, with the door hanging off its hinges. Maybe that was where they’d taken the all children who’d once played with the abandoned toys in the playground. It wasn’t the Kroons that got them, but the flying rats. Loochie imagined a room the size of her bedroom empty except for mounds of children’s clothes, torn through and bloody. In one corner lay all the bones.
Loochie didn’t have any fight left in her. She’d finally accepted it. Horrors come for kids. Louis had said so. Well, now it had come for her. And she couldn’t fight it alone anymore. In fact, Loochie was so busy giving up that she didn’t see a small girl charging toward her.
“You get the
fuck
off Loochie!”
Loochie was so startled by the voice that she didn’t know which direction she should turn. She looked up before she looked down.
Someone had a torch, bright fire, and was swatting it at the rats. One of the rats, down near her ankle,
Loochie lost a sense of what she was looking for and ran around the perimeter of the playground wildly, trying to get away. She ran toward the jungle gym, thinking she might climbinto one of its tunnels, but then thought better of it (the two sides of the tunnels were completely open) and broke for the metal awning instead. But this wasn’t any better. The rats could certainly fly right underneath.
The rats flew in circles above the playground. They squeaked in high-pitched choruses as their wings flapped. She headed back to the gates she’d first come through. Maybe the Kroons really would be there waiting for her, but she didn’t know what else to do.
She didn’t even make it halfway to the open gates before the rats attacked. She felt them approaching. Their wings sent gusts of air downward. The winds shook her mother’s wig and almost knocked it right off her head.
The cloud of rats descended. They slammed into Loochie’s back and sent her facedown on the playground’s plastic mats. The cloud passed over her prone body. She felt claws scrambling across her back. Her sweater and T-shirt were no protection. She screamed but couldn’t hear herself over the beating of those wings.
She was too dazed to do anything but watch them come for her. The flock of rats spread their wings as one, which made the cloud seem to expand to twice its size. Each rat slowed, gliding down.
Some of the rats landed on top of her head, on her mother’s wig. They landed on her shoulders. They grasped on to her arms, digging their claws into her sweater, through the cotton, cutting into her skin. Ten rats settled on her back. It was like being trampled on by a panicked crowd. They wriggled and clawed at her. And before she could even register her disgust all those rats started flapping their wings again, furiously.
If she shut her eyes she might’ve thought she was standing up, by her own power. But she didn’t shut them so she saw what was happening. The rats had pulled her up. The rats on her head snatched off the wig. They looked down and squealed when they realized they hadn’t caught her scalp. They dropped the wig and it fell to the ground, then they dug into her real hair. They pulled and Loochie cried out. The rest of the flock had gone to the air a second time and came back at her again.
Now that Loochie was upright another dozen rats clamped on to each of her legs. They crawled on her thighs, her shins, her butt. They dug their claws into her jeans and she felt their weight tugging at her. She watched their wings expand.
They lifted her into the air.
She was flying.
Floating, really, and only a few inches, but the rats kept beating their wings and her body rose. She was three feet high and rising. They were taking her somewhere. Whatever they were going to do to her, they weren’t going to do it here. Maybe they’d drag her back to that darkened bedroom, with the door hanging off its hinges. Maybe that was where they’d taken the all children who’d once played with the abandoned toys in the playground. It wasn’t the Kroons that got them, but the flying rats. Loochie imagined a room the size of her bedroom empty except for mounds of children’s clothes, torn through and bloody. In one corner lay all the bones.
Loochie didn’t have any fight left in her. She’d finally accepted it. Horrors come for kids. Louis had said so. Well, now it had come for her. And she couldn’t fight it alone anymore. In fact, Loochie was so busy giving up that she didn’t see a small girl charging toward her.
“You get the
fuck
off Loochie!”
Loochie was so startled by the voice that she didn’t know which direction she should turn. She looked up before she looked down.
Someone had a torch, bright fire, and was swatting it at the rats. One of the rats, down near her ankle,
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