Authors: David Simms
Tags: #adventure, #demons, #music, #creativity, #acceptance, #band, #musician, #good vs evil, #blind, #stairway to heaven, #iron men, #the crossroads, #david simms
Lyra stood up with Luke, who looked like he
had just realized he’d lost his puppy.
“You said you’re part of the power,” she
stated, “of those who live beneath.”
“What do you mean, girl?”
Lyra turned to Muddy, mouthing a goodbye
before kissing Corey on the cheek and winking. “We’ll meet again. I
promise.”
She threw herself at the Triton closest to
her and hugged his three arms so he couldn’t raise them or right
himself. They both screamed as they tumbled out the window. Right
before they fell, Muddy noticed a coil of something in her hand.
Before he could cry out they were gone, but he knew she would
survive, somehow.
The other two stumbled, weakened. Broken from
the whole, their power lessened. The Accidental’s song had
worked.
Luke screamed for his sister in a howl that
sounded anything but human. He turned to the others and cried, “I’m
sorry,” to anyone who was listening. He powered his sturdy frame
into the other two and in their awkward, weakened state, caused
them to crash into each other and slam against the wall with him.
Then, in one swift move, like a cowboy at an otherworldly rodeo, he
wrapped them with a coppery wire. He pulled them both through the
middle window behind Zack’s device. With nary a sound, all three
bodies fell out of the window to the rocky shores far below. Muddy
noticed that Luke had the wire attached to himself like his sister
did.
“Holy…” Otis mouthed. “What was that?” He ran
to the window and looked down. “I can’t even see the bottom. We
must be over a thousand feet high.”
“At least,” Corey agreed, a tear forming in
his eye. “She did promise, though, didn’t she?”
Poe hugged him and whispered, “Of course she
did. She’s not a stupid girl.”
* * * *
Muddy rushed to his brother and began to
unfasten the wires jutting into his flesh. Most of them simply
pierced him by less than an inch. After carefully pulling a few
out, Zack’s fist suddenly tightened around Muddy’s. Zack turned his
taut, pained face to the others and spoke the words that would
haunt his brother for years.
“I
am
the Dark Muse,” he said in a
hoarse voice. “Don’t you get it? I belong here. I belong to the
River, to them.” He gestured downwards with a shaky hand.
“How could you want that?” Muddy stuttered
the words. “They’re monsters. They only want to use you. Besides,
they’re gone.”
“Not them,” he said, shaking his head. “Not
them. I’m talking about something much, much more than they ever
could be.”
“What?” He pulled away at more of the
strings.
Zack began to slip, but fought his brother to
remain in the harness. “I can’t go home. They own me.” His voice
rang hoarse, but with spirit. “I can be someone here. I can be
their power. These people don’t have the music. They need someone
to show them. His head bowed. “They make it all happen.”
“What? Who are
they
?”
Instead of answering, Zack crumbled into near
unconsciousness and became Muddy’s brother once again.
“Do we take him back or not?” Otis leaned
over him as they all helped remove the wires.
Muddy grabbed him by the shirt. “You’ve got
to be kidding. After all this?”
Poe and Corey helped Muddy lay the teen flat
on the floor as he slept.
“We have to,” Poe said. “He’s family.”
“But he said he wanted to stay.”
Muddy erupted again. “He was under their
influence. It’s like a drug, but worse. We need to get him back
home.”
They looked at each other and even Otis
nodded. “I’m sorry, bro. I’m just worried about something else
following behind us and ruining our world.”
“What about Lyra?” Corey asked, looking at
the window.
Otis laid his hand on the big teen’s
shoulder. “She promised to see us again.”
“But she’s not music, like we are. How can
she?”
Poe looked at him. “I guess we’ll have to
visit. Maybe she’ll come back with us if this place doesn’t
improve.”
“Think she will?”
She smiled. “Someone’s got a crush. Yeah, I
think she would, if only to visit.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Muddy stood up and
turned to the others. “Zack needs to see a doctor or
something.”
“Is that smart?” Otis asked. “They might ask
questions.”
“He’s my brother. I have no choice. Besides,
it’s not like anyone would believe him. They’d think his story was
crazy.”
Poe paled just a bit. “But what do we do
about that
thing
? That thing we let in that ruined Emerson
Street? People will be asking questions about that.”
Muddy grinned as he propped up his brother,
wrapping his arms around Zack’s, the guitar underneath both. “Two
things. One, we remember to lock the door tight this time. And two,
we’re The Accidentals. People might not think we’re
important—yet—but they will, someday.”
“How are we going to we transport him back
home? The crossroads are too far for us to carry him. We’ll never
make it. Besides, how do we get out of here? I won’t go back the
way we came.”
Muddy smiled as he remembered Silver Eye’s
words. “There are many crossroads, all over the world and beyond.”
He looked down at his feet and saw that the Triton’s inner sanctum
was
a crossroads. “Finally,” he announced to the others,
gathering them together, “we’ve encountered something easy.”
They returned to their world playing the same
song that brought them there, the song that Silver Eye taught them,
the same one that automatically locked the door behind them.
As they shimmered out of sight, Muddy
wondered when they would experience anything like this again. He
had a feeling it might be before they were ready for it.
This world had more dark secrets than they
had time for; ones that now placed bulls-eyes on each of them and
would likely come to collect sooner than later.
He hoped the music would be enough the next
time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They returned home via the crossroads,
complete with Zack in tow. They were worried he wouldn’t cross over
if he wasn’t playing, but the music in him was too strong. Muddy
placed Zack’s pick in his palm then closed his hand. It worked. All
crossed over and no one drowned.
However, Zack’s condition worsened upon
arrival. Poe dug up their cell phones from the pile of tires where
she’d hidden them. Of course, the group didn’t expect to need them
after their first journey and doubted cell towers even existed
there. She called 911 and Muddy’s dad immediately.
The paramedics brought Zack to intensive care
where he lay comatose with undiagnosed symptoms. Of course, most
everyone suspected drugs. Toxicology tests confirmed some still
lingered in his system. But nobody at the hospital knew the real
reason and those who did know wouldn’t tell.
When Muddy returned home with Zack, his
father knew. That look in the man’s eyes told him everything; the
novelist hadn’t been the only traveler in the family. They talked
for the first time since his mother had died, really talked. He
told Muddy why he had changed the family name and actually called
him Muddy, instead of Edgar, the legal name he had given the
teen.
* * * *
During the week following their return from
the world across the River, life happened in a quiet manner. Every
one of them needed it. The cops had called in some specialists from
the Environmental Protection Agency to investigate the worm
invasion; a block-long insect that suddenly appeared downtown and
caused a media sensation, especially in New Jersey. People all over
the area believed that pollution or radiation had caused the
mutation. Others felt that offshore drilling and messing with the
shorelines had disrupted the earth’s crust and allowed a
subterranean creature to crawl on land. It made the bully of a
governor look like even more of an idiot clown, but people just
laughed at him, as always. Obviously, Carter Hills had to deal with
two invertebrates that week. Soon, the buzz would die off and life
would go back to normal. Well, sort of; not for the band, anyway,
or the Rivers family.
The only positive thing that happened was the
postponement of the Battle of the Bands for a week. It provided a
much-needed respite for the group to recuperate and recover
mentally, as much as reality permitted, anyway.
Poe moved in with Otis’ family, at least
temporarily. She had undergone the most change. Even though her
vision faded again, it had improved enough to see plenty of things
that would help her in life. Most importantly, she now saw she had
no future if she remained home. Her father attempted to quell the
rebellion, but a few concerned calls to social services got the
police involved, and that forced him to leave her alone. She would
be fine, eventually.
Muddy hoped he had garnered enough strength
to ask her out. He’d faced zombies, giant worms, egomaniac
hammerhead-spider creatures and saved his own brother from a force
he never discovered. Yet asking this girl to accompany him to a
silly dance frightened him more than all of the above combined.
Otis’ sense of humor mellowed a little, which
frightened Muddy. He had become subdued, focused. No one could
figure where his focus was but it worried them all. Poe heard him
mumbling in his sleep one night about living forever. She said she
could make out words such as “Rhapsody,” “Reaper, and “Revolution.”
He would then awaken smiling and at peace. When he rehearsed for
the Battle of the Bands, he played like a machine, but one with a
soul possessed by a mission.
The only one who didn’t benefit from the
return was Corey. He walked to school in silence, only providing
one word responses to questions or comments from his friends.
“She’s alive,” Poe offered, holding his arm,
half to comfort him, half for her. “She wouldn’t end her life like
that, not with her town in need. Not with you waiting.”
Still, he was focused on something only he
could see, possibly something he would never see again. They
worried about both him and Otis crossing back over without the
others. Corey believed he had lost another friend, reminding him of
his cousin. Death never became easy. When he played, a mournful
tone filled the air, adding a midnight tinge to whatever song the
band played. Muddy thought it would help him recover.
Maybe one day, they would find Lyra once
again.
“They’re gonna kill us.”
“Relax,” Otis said, “relax. We have this one
in the bag. They can’t touch us because we’re tougher this time,
don’t you think?” Even his voice sounded different. More
confident.
Muddy stroked the first note of the song, the
same one that helped them escape from the Triton’s lair.
“Still,” the drummer yelled, ready to hit the
first rhythm. “A set of all covers is safe. I think we deserve safe
for a week or two, don’t you?”
All nodded except Corey who simply gripped
his sax as if it were alive. They knew he needed that right then,
at least until they crossed back over—if they ever did.
His friends smiled, probably agreeing with
him. This was the battle they had been waiting for. The only real
competition would be Bentley’s band—again. They had a set of all
covers, plus one original, just like The Accidentals. They also had
the support of over half of the school.
For once, Muddy and the band didn’t care.
They wanted only to play their best.
Now, as they stared out into the throngs of
smiling faces, they played through the song, almost as sweet as in
the Triton’s main chamber. Muddy struck gold on the solo, as did
Corey and actual cheers erupted from parts of the auditorium. As
the coda rolled though the song, bringing their thrill to an end,
Muddy felt his gut tighten. Something wasn’t right. It wouldn’t be
for a while.
The song ended and a new one began. Muddy
figured that Bentley’s band would still win, but things had
changed. Everyone in the band had changed or had found their
strengths, their true selves that had been struggling to emerge
since before the crossroads. The applause drowned out the other
sounds, the ones from outside the school.
Muddy gripped his guitar tighter. His smile
grew despite the apprehension gnawing at him. His mother always
said that while his father had the stories, the imagination, her
Edgar had the intuition that would take him far in life. His cell
buzzed in his jeans and he ignored it. Something told him that
whatever it was, he would be finding out soon, anyway.
The band had agreed to launch into their
final song, a cover of a Guns N’ Roses tune, but they hadn’t
decided which one, yet. “Paradise City” and “Sweet Child of Mine”
had been two of Poe’s favorites to sing.
Suddenly, the doors to the auditorium burst
open—
off the hinges
open. People scattered everywhere and
the power blew. Moments later, as the generators kicked in and the
lights came back on, the band and most everyone in the audience
turned to the source of the explosion.
Muddy’s brother, the Dark Muse, stood at the
entrance.
Muddy didn’t need to look at his phone now;
he was sure it had been his father, calling to warn him.
The boy Muddy stared at had changed. The coma
had been a part of that. The attachment to that machine drawing the
music from him had let something in, something from deep down in
that other place. Something that lived beneath the River.
“Hello, Muddy.”
“Hello, Zack.” He looked much older,
weathered, than the boy Muddy knew just a week ago. He wore a
leather coat that covered much of his body, especially his face.
The rest of the world disappeared as Muddy took in the scene and
what it might mean to him.
“Thanks for bringing me where I should
be.”
The knot touched his heart as he mouthed the
words his brother now spoke. The auditorium’s lights went out and a
darkness the world had never known lit up the room.