Perennial (20 page)

I’m moving ninja-like through the living room, listening to little noises coming from the vicinity of Dad’s office at the western end of the house. Blade’s movements in my hand confirm that I’m heading in the correct direction, so I continue silently past the kitchen and down the long hallway that ends at the closed office door.

Dad has a large safe in the office. He keeps the door to the room unlocked, because the emergency gun is located in the top corner of the office closet. Knowing an intruder is in the “gun room,” the old Alix would’ve gotten out of the house as fast as possible and called 911, but the customized silver knife in my hand is all the protection I need. It’s silent again, but there’s something behind the door, something made of Fire and up to no good.

I don’t see any light showing in the narrow gap between the floor and the bottom of the door, so I stand there for a few moments, thinking about the demonic cat-beast I destroyed in the living room yesterday. Vagabond called it a Brawler. I scored my first Fire off it when I stabbed its grotesque tongue and pinned it to the floor. I smile at the memory. Then there was that nasty flying Heater, which despite its compact size was scarier and more difficult to deal with than the Brawler. I destroyed the Heater by sending Blade through one of its freaky red eyes. Vagabond also mentioned beasts known as Crawlers, and something tells me one of those awaits me in Dad’s office.

I place my palm on the door. The wood is eerily warm. White light blasts inside my head.

The word cloud: Crawler.

I open the door and flick on the light, Blade raised in front of my chest and locked into my hand like a permanent seal.
Quick. There’s not much time to think. Just observe and react
. My mouth tastes like pennies. Adrenaline.

I scan the room. Nothing. The desk and safe on the far side of the room appear untouched. The closet is closed. Good. The paper blinds are drawn.

Wait.

One of the blinds is moving—the one nearest the desk and safe. There’s a broken window behind the blind, and the breeze is gently blowing the thin paper. That’s how the Crawler got in.

Then there’s a noise from behind the desk.

“Get up,” I say, staying close to the open door. “Show yourself.”

A deep, guttural laugh comes from somewhere near the desk. It’s an awful sound—evil, wild, and otherworldly. I feel the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end.

“Who are you?” I say, standing my ground. “What do you want in here?”

There’s a sickening crunching sound as a large figure with that same creepy, slimy black skin the Brawler had rises and stands behind the desk. It was dark when I fought the Brawler, but tonight the brightly lit office gives me a clear view of my latest enemy. This one is taller than the first—at least seven feet tall—with a wide, muscular body, demonic black eyes, and a large mouth dripping with yellow demon ooze. I know it’s about to shape-shift into a Crawler, so I decide to see if I can get any information out of it.

“Face sent you,” I say, stepping closer and slowly waving the knife back and forth in front of me. “Where can I find him? He’s a coward for sending scouts and not fighting his own battles.”

The creature makes a pained face and returns to that awful laughing that seems to dig into my brain. As it convulses with laughter, I hear what sound like bones snapping inside of its body.

“You’re so wrong, Alix,” it says, the voice low and gravelly. “Face is everywhere.” It laughs again. “You can make all of this go away if you just give me the knife.”

I glance at Blade and then back at the creature. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. This knife was made for me.” I flash a smile of my own. “If you want the knife, you’ll have to come and take it, but that didn’t work out so well for Mr. Brawler and Mr. Heater.” The beast glances at the safe and then at the flapping blind in front of the broken window. “Wait a second,” I say. “If all you want is the knife, what are you doing behind that desk?” I adjust my glasses. “You want something else, don’t you?”

“I gave you a chance, Alix,” it says in its hellish voice. “Now it’s time to dance.”

The creature falls forward hard onto Dad’s desk, its awful, eel-like face and black eyes looking at me as its body contorts and emits a series of cracking and popping sounds. It’s transforming into something larger and changing colors during the process, the black skin turning to a pale, sickly yellow, and the black eyes changing to a hypnotic, swirling, lava-like red. The eyes draw me in like magnets. I remember the Heater’s red eyes doing the same. I force myself to look away, knowing the pulsating eyes are part of its arsenal and have a power all their own.

I back off a few feet, fascinated with what’s happening and actually looking forward to what the fully transformed Crawler will look like. Blade resists my retreat and tries pulling me forward. The knife wants me to take the offensive and destroy the beast before its metamorphosis is complete, but that strikes me as unfair.

A loud crunch jerks the creature sideways over the desk and onto the floor, where it lands on all fours, the Crawler literally in a crawling position now. As with the Brawler, the body arches like a cat’s, the swirling red eyes now the size of small plates as they pulsate and try to draw me in.

There’s an awful tearing sound as the beast’s back splits open from the base of its neck to its waist. There’s no blood, but a series of thick, yellowish tube-like formations slide out from both sides of the open body cavity. The moist tubes drip with yellow ooze and make sloshing sounds as the ends of them reach the carpeted floor.

“You were right, Blade,” I say, wide eyed and suddenly terrified at the creature’s growing size. “We should’ve attacked when it was vulnerable.”

I count four yellow tubes on either side of the body, each about six feet long and as thick as small tree stumps. The ends of them move and twitch slightly, as if adjusting to the feel of the carpet. The red eyes continue to swirl and sizzle, but the “human” body is nothing more than a crumpled mass below the strong, heavy tubes. A louder crunching and sucking sound as something else begins rising from the split back. An awful stench suddenly fills the room, gagging me. The eight tubes stiffen, morphing into solid forms as a new object emerges.

It’s some sort of body segment, I realize—a large, wet, circular object three feet across. It looks like an enormous spherical sack, and it has the same yellow color as the tubes, which aren’t tubes anymore. They’re …

Legs. I swallow hard, frozen with dread, speechless as the Crawler comes together in front of my eyes. The legs connect to the large yellow sack. Eight legs. One body segment. I would swear it was some sort of gigantic evil spider, but the human head isn’t attached.

The Crawler hisses, and the mouth of the human head suddenly opens, revealing a full set of yellow fang-like teeth that remind me of large versions of the Heater’s teeth. That’s when I realize the human head
is
the second body segment. The head
does
somehow attach to the yellow sack. It’s one creature now, a giant spider from hell, breathing deeply as it prepares to attack.

The Crawler’s eight legs creak as they rise and straighten, taking the sack and head with them. I have to crane my aching neck to look up at it. The Crawler continues to hiss, putrid yellow funk dripping from the corners if its large mouth. The human face is unrecognizable now, the same color as the rest of the beast.

The creature’s red eyes swirl at dazzling speeds. It’s ready.

“It’s way too big,” I say. “There’s no way I can destroy it.”

A loud splash as a waterfall of yellow fluid falls from the bottom of the Crawler and onto the remains of the now-headless human form. At first I think the creature is relieving itself, but then I see things moving around on the floor.

“No,” I whisper.

They’re spiders, three smaller, soccer ball–sized versions of the Crawler, their spinning red eyes the size of baseballs.

Mini-Crawlers.

And they’re heading straight for my feet. Fast.

Instinct tells me to drop to my knees and attack the Minis low, but Blade wants me to move forward toward the full-size adult. It’s almost as if the three Minis are designed to distract me.

I see it coming, but once again I’m too late.

An image of a large, wet, yellow web passes through my mind. Ignoring the Minis, I glance at the awful, bloated demonic spider that now fills half of my father’s office and watch in horror as it spits a yellow web the size of a blanket out of its mouth with lightning speed. I try to duck and roll, but the web lands on me as I fall hard to the floor, pinning my arms to my sides and wrapping around me like a roll of carpet. The smell is grotesque and reminds me of decaying flesh. I’m helpless as numerous fist-thick strands tighten around my body and coat me with yellow demon snot, one of the strands wrapping around my face and blocking my mouth. I try screaming but nothing comes out. Blade vibrates in my right hand, but I’m unable to move my arms.

The three Minis hiss with evil delight as they crawl onto my body, their hot legs moving across my jeans and over my shirt. I don’t feel any pain, just sheer terror as they crawl down my right arm and group together around my right hand.

Blade. They want Blade.

As if reading my mind, the adult Crawler’s enormous eyes flare to a fiery red and pulsate with more intensity. The excited beast senses victory.

I’m lying flat on the floor, face up and unable to see the three Minis, but I feel them now. They’re making disgusting munching sounds and emitting soft but high-pitched screeches. They’re eating something. I still don’t feel anything, so I figure they’re devouring the web to get to my hand.

A hot, searing pain hits moments later. It feels like a hundred bees stinging my hand. They’re biting me. The little yellow bastards are biting my hand and fingers. Tears stream down my face, my screams nothing more than muffled grunts due to the hideous strand of web covering my mouth.

They won’t stop biting. I feel my flesh ripping as razor-sharp fangs dig into my skin, the hot pain rippling up my arm and into my chest. I’ll do anything to make this agony stop, but as much as I try opening my hand to voluntarily relinquish my weapon to Fire, Blade resists and seems determined to stay with me until the Mini-Crawlers gnaw my hand off.

I’m on the verge of passing out. The adult Crawler is advancing now, its body making crunching sounds with every movement, eyes throbbing as it converges on its human prey. I’m dizzy, but I notice the Crawler is too large for the room and has difficulty moving its long, slimy legs. If only I could escape this disgusting death web from hell, I could exploit that weakness.

I hear Vagabond’s and London’s voices in my head telling me not to trust anything or anybody except my abilities. Then I hear William’s voice, William suggesting that when I’m afraid I should think about how it’s going to feel to see and talk with Mom again. I think about what Brooke Sparks told me at Eastland High today—to remember that demons fear love.

I close my eyes from the pain. As consciousness escapes me and I fade toward sleep, I think about Mom, Dad, and William, and how much I love them. Then I imagine myself as the most powerful two-way psychic demon slayer in history.

Focus on love. Focus on your abilities. If this is your moment of death, then so be it
.

A powerful upward and downward thrust from Blade forces my eyes open. Although the three Minis continue working on my hand and the adult Crawler now looms over me, I feel less pain and more give in my fingers and wrist.

Blade continues with fast upward-downward motions, the Minis lessening their feast on my hand with each stroke of the knife. Blade is fighting back, I realize, cutting through the web under its own power, forcing the Minis to protect themselves.

I summon every ounce of energy I have and yank my right arm upward as fast and hard as possible, hearing welcome ripping sounds as I break through several strands of weakened web. I also feel something hot and wet spray my face. More demon snot. Great.

The entire web is frail now, so I sit up and easily push my left hand through the strands, grabbing and tossing the piece of web covering my mouth off to the side. My right hand is a bloody, mangled mess. I emit the loudest scream of my life, furious for allowing myself to fall for such a trap.

The Minis are crawling away, retreating like the true cowards they are. I can’t fall for the same trap and let them distract me again. This time it’s
me
who catches the
adult
off guard.

An image of a yellow Crawler leg shoots through my head. At the same time, I glimpse the adult’s actual right front leg coming toward me.

I roll to the left and raise the knife as I move, jabbing the weapon toward the thick, yellow leg that is now on a collision course with my neck. It’s like hitting a fastball with the sweet spot on the bat. Blade severs the Crawler’s leg at its midpoint with one clean slice. The lifeless half of the limb falls to the carpet, twitching for a few moments. The Crawler shrieks in agony as its gaping leg wound spews demon ooze like a volcano spewing lava. I cover my face and roll onto my stomach to shield my eyes from the spray.

“Nice try!” I yell, scrambling to my feet and keeping my distance from the weakened adult. Its red eyes fade to a dull brown and stop pulsating. The Crawler is badly injured. Still, the beast has seven legs and one awful mouth remaining, so I tell myself to keep an eye on it at all times.

I back up and lean against the far wall. The wounded adult is slumped in the middle of the room, screening my view of the desk behind it.

High-pitched screeching from somewhere close. The three Minis are up to something.

The sounds. They’re coming from above.

I look at the ceiling. The awful sight of two blazing red Mini eyes triggers a fresh surge of adrenaline. My mouth feels like it might turn to copper.

A Mini drops from the ceiling with a sudden burst of speed, but I manage to lean out of its path. I sense it wanted my face. As the creature attempts to crawl away, I drop to my knees, raising Blade over my shoulder, and drive the knife hard into the Mini’s right eye, which explodes into a shower of yellow that splashes my face and neck. The Mini’s eye socket is now black and empty. I shield my eyes from the increased heat just before the Mini explodes into a brilliant orange-and-yellow fireball and vanishes.