Billy: Messenger of Powers (36 page)

“I’m the Happy Green Giant,” said Ivy, “You know, like the one that sells peas and green beans on the commercials? And this,” she said, pointing at Tempus, who looked like the entire conversation had passed well over his head some time ago, “is Uncle Buck. He’s dressed like a tourist. Who is color-blind. And has just come out of a coma. And—”

“Hey!” said Tempus indignantly, apparently just catching up at this moment to what was going on. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing,” answered Blythe, apparently completely mistaking the question. “You totally look like an ex-coma patient color-blind tourist. I mean, it’s not what I would have guessed just looking, but now that I know what the costume is supposed to be, I think you hit it dead-on. Let the judges know at the dance. You’re a shoo-in for some award.” She looked back at Billy, taking another candy bar from her backpack and starting to eat it in bites that would have made a great white shark envious. “So,” she said, suddenly uncharacteristically bashful, “I guess that means you’ll be at the dance?”

“Uh, yeah. Definitely,” said Billy. He had never been to a dance before, but then, no one had ever cared about whether Billy went to one or not, so missing them had been easy.

Am I just dreaming? he thought. Or did Blythe just sort of ask me to the dance?

“Cool,” said Blythe, and Billy thought she was blushing a little. “Like I said, I was going to be mad at you, but I figured that anyone who can give Cameron a bloody nose deserves at least one free pass.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” said Ivy in a too-bright voice before grabbing Billy’s hand in a vise-like grip. “Now, where did you say that thing was that you wanted to show us, cousin Billy?”

Billy allowed his three friends to drag him away from Blythe, then shrugged their hands off and hurried back to her, even as she began to turn away. “Blythe!” he shouted.

She turned around. And, as usual, any sense of what he had wanted to say went right out the window. “Yeah?” she said. He noted that she had finished off the second candy bar and now had a licorice whip in her hands.

She must have the metabolism of a hummingbird with ADD, he thought.

“Uh, about Cameron,” he said.

“What about that dirt-bag?” asked Blythe. The way she called Cameron a dirt-bag made Billy’s heart start knocking even harder in his chest. She was perfect, he thought.

He didn’t say that, however. What he said was, “Have you seen him around?”

Blythe frowned. “No. Not today. Why?”

Billy shrugged. In truth, he had suspected as much. He was positive that Cameron Black was a Darksider, following in the footsteps of his mother and the strange Power named Wolfen. So it was no surprise that he wasn’t here today. He was probably with the other Darksiders, helping to plan the next horror that would be visited on the world of the Powers.

“No reason,” answered Billy. Then, over Blythe’s shoulder, he saw something. A figure moved into the hall. A lurching, stumbling figure with gray-green skin and two huge eyes. To Billy’s horror, the creature immediately spotted him, and behind him, Ivy, Tempus, and Vester.

“RUN!” shouted Ivy.

Billy didn’t think. He just grabbed Blythe’s hand in his.

“Hey,” she began, “what’s the big ide—?” But Billy jerked her forward before Blythe could finish her indignant question. He pulled her with him toward his three friends, and they ran for all they were worth.

“What’s going on?” asked Blythe. “What the heck is going on, Billy Jones?”

“Later!” he managed. He threw a glance behind him. The zombie had been joined by another one, both of them running leadenly behind Billy and his friends. As he watched, a third zombie, then a fourth, and a fifth, all converged until they were running in a shuffling, greasy group through the halls.

“EEK!” he heard, and looked ahead again just in time to see that Harold and Sarah—who had apparently just been cowering in the corridor after their stormy run-in with Tempus—had just stepped unwittingly into the path of the onrushing Powers.

Ivy, Vester, and Tempus managed to avoid running the junior members of the Torture Brigade over. Billy didn’t have as much luck, however. He didn’t completely barrel into Harold Crane, but he felt his elbow crack into the bigger boy’s ribs as he dodged by. “Sorry!” he shouted without thinking.

Harold screamed like he’d been shot with a gun that was loaded with hornets and piranhas, then dropped to the ground, holding his head in his arms like he was expecting the roof to collapse. Sarah, meanwhile, looked like she was doing her best to actually chew through the wall to get away from Billy and his friends.

“What’s with them?” wheezed Blythe, still being pulled along by the strength of Billy’s desperate grip.

“Probably had too much caffeine in their energy drinks or something,” Billy said lamely. He risked another glimpse back. The team of undead ran right over Harold, leaving the would-be bully sprawled unconscious behind them.

Billy couldn’t help but grin. His grin disappeared, though, when he remembered what Tempus had said: it
was
possible that some zombies’ touch could kill. Even Harold Crane, the punk-haired bully, didn’t deserve that.

Billy had no time to dwell on it, though. Up ahead, Vester had disappeared around a corner, which Billy knew led to the stairway he had told Ivy about. Just a few feet, down the stairs, through a door, and they’d be outside.

“Billy, what’s going on?” asked Blythe. She had managed to keep a grip on her licorice whip, and took a bite even as they ran. She appeared quite fine with the idea of running, and Billy’s heart thudded a little harder when he noticed that she was still holding his hand as they ran. But how was he supposed to answer her question?

“It’s complicated,” he finally said. It wasn’t a good answer, but it was all he could come up with. And it seemed to satisfy Blythe, because she didn’t ask again. Either that, or she just had too much licorice in her mouth to speak right now.

Billy turned the corner that his friends had gone around, and was surprised to see that Tempus was standing there. “Go,” said the old man, gesturing for Billy to continue down the stairs.

Billy did so, and a few moments later heard something that sounded like a fierce windstorm behind them.

“What the…?” began Blythe, starting to look over her shoulder.

“Look out!” screamed Billy, trying to divert Blythe’s attention from the magic that was going on only a few feet away.

“What?” she screamed back, looking at the stairs in front of them.

“Uh, I thought there was a bug,” he managed lamely.

“A bug?” she asked incredulously.

A vomit-colored shape whipped by them at that moment. Tempus. “Storm spell!” he shouted. “It won’t hold them for long though!”

Blythe looked at Billy with a look that clearly asked both what was wrong with Billy’s “cousin” and if whatever it was, was genetic.

Billy shrugged and did his best to look innocent.

Ahead of them, Tempus was banging through the door, holding it open for Billy and Blythe. Billy crashed through, and had a split-second to see Vester standing nearby, before the fireman swung a heavy hand…right at Blythe.

“No!” yelled Billy. But it was too late. Vester’s hand hit Blythe on the top of the head. It was a glancing blow, even Billy could see that it hadn’t been a hard impact, but Blythe fell as though she’d had a piano dropped on her.

“What did you do?” screamed Billy.

Vester pushed the younger boy roughly out of the way. “They’re not interested in her!” he shouted, lifting Blythe and putting her carefully against the wall. “They want us! You want her to be safe, then the best way to make sure nothing happens to her is to
not
bring her with us!”

Billy looked at the beautiful Blythe, who was still just as lovely as ever, even though there was a half a bite of licorice hanging from her limp mouth. “But what did you do?” he asked.

“Just a Short Circuit spell,” explained Vester. “She’ll wake up in a few minutes with a headache and no memory of the last five minutes or so.”

Billy’s stomach sank. He knew that was probably the best thing for Blythe, but it meant she might not even remember seeing him, wouldn’t remember asking if he was going to the dance.

“Shoot,” was all he could manage. The only other thing he could think to say was a word he had said once about a year ago, and when his mother heard about it, he was grounded for a week. “Shoot,” he said again.

“Sorry, Casanova,” said Vester with a grin as he turned back to Billy.

“So she won’t remember any of what’s happening right now?” asked Billy. When Vester shook his head, Billy ran over to Blythe.

“What are you doing?” shouted Vester.

Billy grabbed Blythe’s hand. It felt wonderful, warm and full of life. “I just wanted to say,” he began, “because I probably won’t have the guts to do it when you’re awake. But, well…you’re really cool, and really pretty, and really nice to me. No one has been really nice to me in a long time, not at school. And,” he gulped, amazed at how hard this was. “… and I really hope we can be friends.”

There was a thud behind them, and the school door banged open. Five zombies almost fell over themselves in their hurry to pursue Billy and his friends.

“Ivy!” shouted Vester.

Billy looked over. Ivy had already made it outside, he saw, and had run to the edge of the sidewalk, where a small patch of lawn grew. She threw something into the grass. “Come on!” she shouted.

Vester yanked Billy away from Blythe’s unconscious form, grabbing Billy by the collar of his shirt and propelling him forward, the two of them following Tempus, who was already running with superhuman speed toward Ivy.

Behind them, the zombies moaned in what Billy swore was a sound of tremendous hunger and need, and followed after the fleeing friends, moving far too quickly for comfort.

Billy looked ahead again, and saw that in front of Ivy, something was growing out of the lawn. It grew rapidly, from seedling to sapling to tree. Soon, what looked like an old oak tree had sprouted before them, thirty feet high. As Billy looked, a great hole opened in the trunk of the tree. Ivy hopped in, followed quickly in by Tempus.

How is that possible? wondered Billy. The tree can’t hold both of them inside it. It’s not big enough.

Then he almost smacked his forehead. Of course! This was Ivy’s Transport key!

“Go, go, go!” Vester was shouting, pushing Billy as fast as his legs could go. The zombies were gaining on them. Closer, closer, gaining on the fireman and on Billy with every step. Their pale, rotten fingers reached out, straining to touch the two fleeing friends. Just one touch was all they would need.

“Hold your breath!” shouted Vester, and he threw Billy into the hole in the tree.

Billy held his breath. He wondered if, as when they had traveled through Vester’s Transport spell, the zombies would be able to follow them.

The same jerking sensation that shivered him from head to foot came, and he stumbled as solid ground suddenly appeared below him. A pair of hands grasped him. Tempus’s.

Billy looked up, and saw that there was a black hole in midair, through which he could see Vester, as though through a window. The fireman leaped through, landing in front of Billy. Behind him, he could hear Ivy murmur a word or two, and the hole started to close.