Invaders From Mars (14 page)

David took a few painful steps toward the tunnel and peeked around the edge of the opening. Nothing. But he could still hear them back there, murmuring like hunger pangs in a giant stomach. Cautiously, he went back into the tunnel, all the way to the curve. Pressing his back to the wall, he craned his head around toward the archway.

The four creatures were standing on the ramp, huddled over something. His M&M’s! One of them scooped some of the candy up in its gnarled hand and stared at it.

They’re like drones in a beehive,
David thought as he watched them. They were obviously not very intelligent and seemed able to do no more than guard the ship or pursue intruders.

The creature plopped the M&M’s into its huge mouth as the others watched and waited. Its fat, wet lips smacked together, an odd look came over its beady eyes as its tongue, a plump, clumsy chunk of old meat, slid back and forth the length of its mouth. Suddenly, it leaned forward and wretched, spewing the chewed-up M&M’s into a sticky pile at its feet. The others stepped back, grunting.

“The boy!” Mrs. McKeltch called from within the ship. “Stop him!”

The four drones turned at once toward the archway, looking directly at David. With a soft cry of horror, David turned and ran, trying to ignore the pain in his knee. Once he was out of the tunnel again, he did not stop. He ran through the woods.

Linda’s house wasn’t far; in fact, it was closer than his own. He slapped through the brush, ducked branches, and dodged rocks and logs. After several minutes of running, he slowed to get his bearings. He knew the sand pit was dangerous, although he didn’t know exactly why, so he wanted to stay clear of it. After a few moments, he continued, all the while casting glances over his shoulder.

Barbara Tyler was a close friend of Linda’s. They’d gone to school together, both high school and college. Still in Oregon, Barbara had a private practice as a child psychologist. Linda had spoken with her just two nights ago, but decided to call her again. She could probably shed some light on David’s problem, maybe give Linda some advice. She was dialing the number when she heard a car drive up out front. She put down the phone and went to the window.

“Oh, god,” she sighed when she saw the police car. They’d want to know if David were with her or if she’d seen him. She could lie her way through their questions, but what if David showed up while they were there? Linda quickly grabbed her purse and coat, her car keys from the phone table, and went to the door, slipping her arms into the sleeves. She opened the door before they could ring the bell.

“Miss Magnuson?”

“Yes.” She smiled at them. Two of them; one was tall and not bad-looking, the other quite a bit older with a belly hanging over his belt.

“Chief Ward, Miss Magnuson. Willowbrook Police Department.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Well, Officer Kenney and I are looking for a boy. David Gardiner. Know him?”

“Of course.” She looked at both of them carefully. She recognized their names; they were the ones David had told her about. They seemed normal enough, but . . . “Has something happened to him?” she asked, feigning concern.

“Don’t know, ma’am,” Kenney said. “His parents can’t find him. They gave us a call. He hasn’t been here, has he?”

“Of course not,” she said. “And I shouldn’t be here, either. I have to get to the post office before it closes and then I have to meet a friend. I’m running short of time, so—” Her best smile. “—if you don’t mind, I’m going to take off.”

“Ma’am,” Chief Ward said. “Do you have any reason to believe the boy might be in the neighborhood?”

She shook her head and chuckled. “I said I don’t know where he is. I’m the school nurse, not the resident sitter.” She stepped between them onto the porch, pulled the door shut, and locked it. “Sorry I can’t help you. I hope he’s all right, but I really do have to go.”

The policemen did not smile; they looked at one another for a moment, Chief Ward tilting his head oddly. Something had been silently communicated, Linda realized.

“Have a good day,” she said, heading for her car. As she got behind the wheel, she thought,
They are pretty strange.
She started the ignition and backed out, drove down the road and around a corner, then pulled onto the shoulder and parked in a shaded area. Remaining behind the wheel, tapping her fingers thoughtfully, she whispered, “David, where are you?”

David was across the road from Linda’s house, hidden in the shadows of the trees. When he’d spotted the police car, he’d hidden himself well. Linda’s car was nowhere in sight and the chief and Kenney were walking up and down the street, their eyes scanning the yards in the neighborhood. He knew they were looking for him.

But where was Linda? In the house, perhaps, being held by one of them? Had they taken her somewhere else?

Maybe they’ve got her in the ship,
he thought.
Maybe they’re putting one of those things in her
—

His thoughts were shattered as a hand reached from behind and clamped over his mouth, pulling him hard into the bushes . . .

C H A P T E R
Nine

W
hen David tried to scream, Linda whispered into his ear, “Quiet, David,
sshhhh!”

David’s rigid body relaxed when he knew it was only Linda and he turned around and hugged her with relief. “I found ’em!” he exclaimed breathlessly.

“David, calm down,” she said, taking his hand and leading him through the woods along the edge of the road. “We’re in trouble. I’ve parked my car down here off the road. We’ll have to—”

“But I saw them!” he went on. “They were bigger than anything I’ve ever seen!”

She didn’t seem to hear him. “God, they probably think I’ve kidnaped you,” she muttered to herself, exasperated.

“They tried to catch me! They chased me through a tunnel! They nearly killed me!”

Linda stopped and looked down at him with concern. “What? Who?”

“Those . . .
things!
They’re huge, ugly, slimy . . .” David searched his memory for something similar, something to which he could compare the drones that had chased him. “Giant Mr. Potato Heads!” he exclaimed.

“Hold it, just slow down, David, I don’t understand—”

“I’ll show you! You can see for yourself!” He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward her car. “Get in!”

Linda sighed as she got behind the wheel. David got in beside her, bouncing on the seat with excitement.

“C’mon, let’s go!” he said.

Linda started the car and got on the road.

“David,” she said softly, “tell me . . . you’re not a crazy child, are you?” She quickly added, “I mean, on the phone, your parents told me you’d seen a psychiatrist, remember?”

David’s heart sank. He knew it had to come up again sooner or later.

“Only a few times,” he said. “I was having bad dreams every night and Mom and Dad were—turn right here—they were worried that something was wrong. So they sent me to this Dr. Wycliffe.”

“Did it help?”

“No,” David said pointedly. “He was crazy himself. He wore this too-pay. You know, fake hair? And he never talked to me, he just asked questions. When I asked him a question, he would just ask another question, almost like I wasn’t even there, and . . . and . . .” He turned toward her, his vision blurring with tears. “Linda, please, I don’t want to go back to him. Don’t let them send me. I’m not crazy! I really saw this. You’ll believe me when you see it!”

“Okay, okay, calm down. Just tell me how to get there.”

David directed her to the opposite side of the sand pit.

“Okay, slow down here,” he said. “Mrs. McKeltch might still be around.”

But the van was gone. Linda parked several yards away from the spot where Mrs. McKeltch had left her van earlier and they got out. David took her hand again, hopping from one foot to the other as he tugged on her arm. “C’mon, c’mon!” He led her to the hillside, to—

The tunnel was gone.

“This is the spot!” David said, his throat clenching slightly, making his voice high and squeaky. “It was here!”

“I don’t see anything,” Linda said. Her voice was soft, but firm, as if her suspicions had been confirmed.

“But it was
here!
I saw it! I went inside!” He went to the side of the hill where the tunnel had been and pressed his hands to the hard, cold earth. Solid. Undisturbed. There was even grass growing from the spot that earlier had been the mouth of the tunnel. “It’s gone,” David whispered. He turned to Linda; she was looking at him skeptically, eyes narrow, her hands folded behind her back. “I swear it was here,” he insisted, but his voice was not as forceful as before.

“But it’s not, David.”

He looked at the hillside again, remembering the things that had chased him, the creature that had slithered out of its hole and come to rest on its altar.

“They moved it!” David said with certainty, spinning to face Linda. “They can do that—move tunnels!”

“Oh, David, this is just too . . . crazy. It’s
crazy!”

“But you saw the Band-Aids on their necks!”

“Yes, David, but they were just Band-Aids. That’s all.”

“Okay. Then we have to go to the hill.” He began running toward Copper Hill, toward the sand pit, without waiting for Linda. Over his shoulder, he called, “C’mon! I know a path!”

“Oh, all right,” Linda sighed, hurrying to keep up with him.

They took a path that led around the pit and up Copper Hill.

“Careful,” David said, panting, “they may be watching.”

Trying to remain unseen, they climbed to the crest of the hill. Linda leaned against a tree, exhausted.

David turned toward his house, looking for some sign of his parents, but saw nothing. The back door was open, which was odd. But David paid it little attention; nothing was as it should be. Turning, he looked out over the sand pit. The white sand was smooth and undisturbed; it looked warm and inviting in the sun.

“Now, tell me, David,” Linda said, trying to catch her breath, “does it look to you like anything landed there?”

David searched in desperation for something that would convince her, but he saw nothing. A gentle wind blew, hissing through the trees above them; fleecy white clouds moved lethargically across the blue sky.

“David,” Linda said, hunching down in front of him and taking his hands, “listen to me. We’re in trouble, both of us. I’ve helped you run away, do you understand? Now I can make up some story that will smooth things over. You could back me up.”

David started to shake his head and protest, but Linda pulled him closer to her.

“Shush, listen to me. Your house is right down there. Why don’t you let me take you home and tell your parents something that will calm them down? So they won’t be so mad at us?” She raised her eyebrows and smiled slightly, her face kind and hopeful. “What do you say, David?”

He felt hollow inside. He’d lost her trust. She thought that he was crazy. David wanted to run, but he had nowhere to go. He wanted to make her believe him, but he had nothing to prove his claim—until he looked down the hill again at his house.

A white NASA Jeep was pulling up the driveway.

“Get down!” David warned, dropping to his knees behind a tree and pulling Linda with him. “Look.”

As they watched, two men in orange jump suits got out of the Jeep. One held a detector of some sort. It looked like a metal detector, the kind people used at the beach to find coins buried in the sand.

“Those are space agency technicians,” David whispered. “What are they doing here?”

The men walked toward the front door, disappearing on the other side of the house.

David and Linda watched silently, waiting.

After a few moments, David’s dad appeared at the back door, the two men coming out behind him. Dad pointed up toward Copper Hill, making David and Linda duck self-consciously, completely out of sight. When David heard the screen door squeak shut, he peeked out again.

The two men were coming up the path. The one in the lead held the detector out before him, sweeping it over the ground as they walked up the path.

David tapped Linda’s arm and jerked his head to the right; they moved silently from the tree to a patch of brush farther from the trail. Well hidden, they watched the men come over the crest of the hill, moving the detector in an arc from one side of the path to the other. They went down the other side and hopped off the short bank onto the sand.

The sand pit was big, about fifty yards across, and if they were going to search the whole thing, David knew they would be there for a while.

“What do you think they’re looking for?” Linda asked.

“Something Dad told them about, I guess. But what?”

The men stayed close together, their eyes on the detector’s gauges. Apparently something registered, because they huddled close to the device, one man pointing to a gauge. Excited now, they fanned out on the sand, their backs to one another as they searched. One of them called out over his shoulder, the other nodded.

Realization suddenly struck David hard. These men were not looking for them; he and Linda had no reason to hide from them. The two NASA men were walking into a trap! Dad had given them some story, told them something he knew would interest them enough to get them out on the sand, which was exactly where he wanted them because—

With no warning, the sand beneath the man with the detector began to whirl, creating a vortex that first spun him around, then began to suck him in. He dropped the detector and threw his arms up, opened his mouth to scream, but only had time to gasp—it was a long, ragged gasp, terrified and final.

The other man turned swiftly; his partner and the detector were gone and the whirlpool of sand was traveling across the pit toward him, moving with the speed and ease of a tornado. The man began to run for the embankment, but the sand beneath his feet shifted and swirled, making him sway this way and that until he tripped and fell.

“Oh my God!” Linda shouted, standing.

His arms straight up as he was sucked into the sand, the man screamed like a child, struggling against whatever was pulling him down.