Spindle Lane. Mark Reefe

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СКАЧАТЬ I exclaimed with my mouth open.

      “It’s twenty-five all right. You play pool?”

      “Nah.”

      “I could teach you if you want. It’s not that hard.”

      “Eh, maybe.” I pointed to a framed poster of a man in a football uniform. “Who’s that?”

      “Seriously? You don’t know who Terry Bradshaw is? He’s the quarterback for the Pittsburg Steelers. Don’t you watch football? My dad and I do all the time.”

      I had the sinking feeling it was going to be a long afternoon. “Sometimes. The Redskins are okay I guess.”

      “Yeah, they’re not bad,” Kevin said as he moved to the corner of the room and opened a large walk-in closet. In it were soccer balls, basketballs, footballs, bats, gloves, and shelves of board games. “I played some football at my old school. Don’t know if I will here. If you’re not into that type of stuff, I got –”

      “What’s that?” I asked pointing to a book tucked between Life and Operation.

      Kevin pulled it out and handed it to me. “That’s my Monster Manual.”

      “You play D and D?”

      “Used to before we moved. It’s kind of hard playing the game by yourself.”

      New kid just earned himself twenty bonus points. “No doubt! I’m trying to get my friend Paul into it, but he’s just not having it.”

      “If you like the Manual, you’ll really dig this.”

      A shiny smile broke on Kevin’s face as he pulled another book from the shelf and handed it to me.

      “You got the Player’s Handbook? Man, I didn’t think those were out yet.”

      “Just came out. I got it yesterday. You can borrow it if you want.”

      “Really? Sweet! I mean, after you’re done with it.”

      “It’s no biggie really. We’ll both have to study it if we’re gonna do some gaming.”

      I started flipping through the pages. “This is outta sight. I hear they have more character classes.”

      “They do. There are paladins and rangers now and other cool stuff.”

      Now knowing I was in the presence of a fellow gamer, I decided to let my guard down and allow the inner dorkiness to spill out. “Cool. I have a cleric and fighter that I made up a couple months ago. They’re okay, but I’ve been wanting to mix it up a little.”

      Kevin rummaged through the section of shelf he had pulled the two books from. When he turned back to me, he was holding some paper and a couple pencils in his left hand and a set of dice in the other. “No time like the present.”

      “What, you mean now?”

      “Why not? You just said you’ve been wanting to create a new character. Besides,” Kevin pointed out the window, “it’s raining. What do you say? We can try out some of these new classes and see if they’re any good. You like pretzels and Mr. Pibb?”

      For the rest of the afternoon, we battled troglodytes and drow in the Underdark, gathered gold and experience points, and ate our weight in pretzels, chips, and cheese puffs. Somehow I still found room for a couple of slices of pepperoni pizza when Mrs. McNamara brought us dinner. Before wobbling my way home, Kevin and I agreed to meet tomorrow to continue our epic campaign. Life is strange. I was sure the day was going to be a flat out bust when I was ordered over to Kevin’s, but it turned out to be the most fun I’d had in recent memory. It was well past nine when I left, and the murky night sky was gray and starless.

      Buzzed on Mr. Pibb and visions of minotaurs and vorpal swords, I stumbled down Spiral tightly gripping Kevin’s copy of the Player’s Handbook. Kevin was the first person I’d met with an interest in gaming, and his collection of guides and adventure modules was most impressive and would no doubt make for some serious adventuring. Now if I could just get Paul on board.

      I froze in my tracks.

      Up ahead, in the washed-out glow of the streetlight at the corner of Sexton and Spindle, something sat. I say it was a something rather than a someone because although it looked human in shape, it was easily as wide as a Volkswagen and had a freaky melon-shaped head with spikes protruding from it on both sides. My buzz evaporated. The thing had its back to me and was hunched over with its attention focused on the ground. I fought the urge to go screaming back to Kevin’s and, instead, came up with a brilliant plan.

      “Hey!” I shouted.

      Its melon head shot up, but the thing didn’t turn and look at me. Before I could say another word, it stood, stretching up to half the height of the streetlight. I took a step back and was a split second away from setting a new land speed record to Kevin’s when the creature darted out of the light and into the Colberts’ junipers.

      I was alone and shaking uncontrollably as Perry’s voice popped in my head uttering two words. The Goatman. Ignoring all common sense, I found myself approaching where the thing had been sitting moments earlier. Beneath the light was a pile of bloodied bones and matted fur. The creature had been feeding on something and for whatever reason placed the remains in a neatly stacked mound. The idea seemed a little crazy, but a part of me felt as though the creature left them for me to discover. Under the nasty mess of furry death, I saw something scrawled in red on the pavement. It was a letter, the letter Y to be exact. My stomach bubbled and churned as if it knew something I didn’t. Mustering up the courage, I kicked the carnage away and read the words scrawled in blood.

      You really should lock your window.

      The message could have been for anyone, but in my bones I knew it was meant for me.

      A hushed but unmistakable wail echoed down the empty street behind me. It was the same stuttered cry I’d heard on the bike trail.

      I ran the rest of the way home.

      Chapter 5

      By the time I made it upstairs, my breathing had returned to almost normal. I blundered into my bedroom, and papers flew everywhere.

      “Hey, come on, spaz!” Steve barked.

      “Sorry.” I navigated the minefield of notes scattered around the room and made it successfully to my bed without stepping on a single one of them. Plopping down, I stared out the bedroom window. All was still and silent as the grave. I checked the window and blew out a sigh of relief when I found it locked tight.

      “What the heck are you doing?” Steve scowled as he gathered his papers and began organizing them into separate stacks.

      My mouth opened, but the words turned sideways and wedged in my throat. I wanted to tell him about White Marsh and the thing lurking in the Colberts’ bushes, but I couldn’t. I knew it would take more than a pile of bones and a warning about a window for my brother to believe me, so I decided to switch subjects. “Just messing around. What about you?”

      Steve removed his horn-rimmed glasses and wiped the lenses with a shirt sleeve. Before putting them back on, he shoved his fingers in his hair СКАЧАТЬ