Nocturnal

Arena Rock

Bryan saw light — a distant, narrow arch of illumination just a hundred feet away.

Shapes moving in front of that light.

He kept moving forward, his steps quiet and sure.

The sound of a single person talking from far away, words blurred by echoes and the crowd’s murmur, until the crowd roared in unison.

Guilty!

Closer. Fifty feet.

The shapes up ahead took form. Mounds that were people covered with blankets, sliding in front of each other as if craning to see something beyond.

Bryan stopped, turned. Adam was right behind him. Not so brave now. Mouth pursed, Adam was forcing himself to breathe slowly. No, not so brave, but still here, ready to fight — was bravery really anything more than that?

Behind Adam, Alder. Not afraid. Maybe he’d had decades to accept his mortality. Everyone dies. You can go out swinging, or you can die shitting yourself in a hospital bed as they feed you through tubes.

And in the back, John Smith. He had to be scared, but he didn’t look it. Maybe six years of cowardice had taught him how to hide it. Or maybe John was just ready, because one thing was for certain — no one could call him a coward anymore.

Bryan stepped closer. Twenty-five feet.

ba-da-bum-bummmm

He stopped. He closed his eyes tight, opened them again. The smell of the baby, the thrumm of his people buzzing in his chest. Those behind him were not his people.

ba-da-bum-bummmm!

Why was he going to kill Marie’s Children? Why was he going to kill his brothers, his sisters, his real family?

He closed his eyes. He pictured the two people who had stood by him through everything.

ba-da-bum-bummmm!

Why was he going to kill Marie’s Children? Because they had taken Pookie. Because they had murdered Robin.

Bryan opened his eyes and again looked down the tunnel. He was only fifteen feet away, close enough to see the feet under one of the blankets. Blue feet. Furry. The feet of a monster.

ba-da-bum-bummmm! ba-da-bum-bummmm!

Wait a minute … had he missed Aggie? Bryan looked back and took in the faces: Adam, Alder, John, all ready to fight alongside him.

But no Aggie?

Bryan signaled to John, held up both hands in a questioning gesture. John looked confused, then understood. He quickly looked behind him, saw nothing, then turned and shrugged apologetically. Aggie had slipped away. It didn’t matter. The man had done his job. Bryan hoped he made it out alive.

Five feet. So close he could reach out and grab the blue-footed person at the back of the ledge, probably grab it so fast the ones in front wouldn’t even know.

That echoing voice again, coming from an unseen spot beyond, close enough now that Bryan could make out the words, close enough now that Bryan recognized the speaker.

Rex.

“And for crimes of hating on the people, how do we find the defendant?”

Guilty!

A new voice: “Killing me won’t change the fact that you’re a worthless douchebag, you little shit!”

Bryan stopped. Pookie’s voice — he was still alive. Bryan drew in a slow breath.

Rex started shouting again, his hoarse words far louder than seemed possible from such a small person. “And for the crimes of making sure we all die, how do—”

“U-G-L-Y,” Pookie yelled, his voice echoing just as much as Rex’s. “You ain’t got no alibi. You’re all fucking ugly!”

“Stop it!” Rex screamed, so loud Bryan heard the boy’s vocal cords starting to fray. “Stop interrupting me, or I’ll cut out your tongue!”

Bryan drew his knife.

He stepped forward. His hand reached out, wrapped around a furry mouth and pulled hard. Blue-foot fell back into the tunnel. Bryan had a glimpse of shocked blue eyes, felt a scream try to escape his hand, then he slid the knife under the chin and pushed up at an angle. The creature started to kick. Bryan pushed the knife in deeper and twisted it.

Blue-furred eyelids stared, blinked, stared, then lost focus.

Bryan pulled the knife free and sheathed it. He pulled the smelly blanket from under the corpse, then whipped it around his shoulders.

Out in the cavern: “And for the crimes of, uh, wait a minute … oh, right, the crimes of making sure we all die, how do you all find the defendant?”

Bryan waved John and the others forward as the crowd shouted Guilty!

Bryan’s companions moved in close. They looked at him with shock, with fear — like he was a monster, a brutal killer. He was all that and more. He stared back at them: John and Alder, their faces deep inside dark green hoods, and Adam, his black jacket collar flipped up around his neck, his skullcap pulled down to his eyebrows.

“Pookie is down there,” Bryan whispered. “I’ll find a way to reach him. With this blanket I’ll blend in — maybe they won’t notice me right away. I’ll get as close as I can.”

“What then?” Adam said.

Bryan reached into his pocket and pulled out the button-box Adam had given him back in the hospital parking lot. “Will this work down here?”

Adam nodded, pulled out a small device from his own pocket. “Yeah, if that cavern out there is open and you don’t go into more tunnels, I’ll get the signal right here.”

Bryan held up the button-box. “When I press this, you guys start killing. Shoot them in the head and they’ll go down. Move onto the ledge and hold this position. We don’t know any other way out. Cause as much damage as you can, I’ll try and use the confusion to rescue Pookie.”

He didn’t wait for them to answer. He flipped up his peacoat collar, adjusted his mask, then pulled the blanket over his head to hide his face.

All the eyes … all the teeth.

Bryan Clauser walked out onto the ledge.