This Town Is a Nightmare Read online

  Beacon yanked his arm free and tumbled through the bedroom door. Then all three of them ran through the apartment, shouting and pushing and elbowing their way into the main hall. Beacon tucked the PJ under his arm and jerked on his shoes one by one as he stumbled for the stairwell.

  Beacon heard Victor behind him and panicked. He jumped the last four stairs and stumbled into a mop bucket on the landing. Stinky water sloshed everywhere. Gagging, he pushed himself up and crashed out of the doors. He looked left and right, his chest heaving.

  Booming techno music blared from open windows. Men leered from covered doorways, their cigarettes glowing in the dark. A siren wailed distantly over the muted sounds of traffic.

  No Everleigh. No Arthur.

  “Thanks, guys!” Beacon shouted. He shoved the PJ into his back pocket and banked left, just as the apartment doors burst open behind him.

  “This is only going to make things worse for you,” Victor said, his calm voice carrying in the chilly autumn air.

  A few people looked over at this pronouncement, but no one jumped up to help Beacon. He was pretty sure an actual squid could be chasing him through the streets and the native New Yorkers would shrug.

  Beacon put his head down and kept running. The streets were a maze at night, lined with glowing signs and graffitied walls. But it didn’t matter where he went. Just that he got away.

  His feet slipped on wet leaves as he rounded a corner. A hot, stabbing pain shot from his ankle to his knee with each step. He pushed himself harder, past the pain, his fingers curled into sweaty fists at his sides. Sweat dripped from his matted hair.

  Through a narrow alley, he spotted the familiar neon glare of Times Square. If he could get there, he would be safe. No way would Victor attack him somewhere so public. He darted into the alley, leaping over broken glass and garbage, crumpled takeout bags and cigarette butts. Something squeaked and scurried along the side of one of the buildings, and for once he was glad it was too dark to tell what it was. The end of the alley was in sight. He was almost safe.

  Just then, a van with blacked-out windows pulled up, blocking the alley’s exit. Beacon stuttered to a stop as the doors opened and two men in black suits stepped out.

  “There!” one of the men said, pointing at Beacon. Beacon instantly recognized him as the redheaded man his dad—Victor, he reminded himself—had been visiting at the construction site. The man spoke in hurried tones into a wireless headset. The other man dashed forward with his arm raised toward Beacon, revealing the silver gleam of a device strapped to his wrist. Two narrow cylinders whizzed up and snapped into place above the device with a jarring snap-snap sound. Blue beams of light glowed to life inside the cylinders.

  Beacon spun around and ran the other way. But Victor stepped into the alley entrance. He smiled, and his perfect white teeth gleamed.

  “You’ve made me very angry,” Victor said. “You aren’t going to like me angry.”

  Beacon was trapped.

  “You know, when the elders told me that you would be responsible for saving the planet from us, I thought you must be really extraordinary,” Victor said. “Especially smart, especially talented—anything. But in the weeks that I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve realized you’re just an average human kid.”

  Beacon backed up as Victor stepped closer, his shoes clicking loudly on the pavement.

  “W-what are you talking about?” Beacon said.

  “I would have killed you,” Victor said. “But the elders said that it wouldn’t work. That it would set off a chain of events far worse for our kind. So I decided to join you instead. Figure out a way to upend your plans from the inside. But you don’t have any plans. I don’t get it.”

  Beacon swallowed hard, gasping for breath. He didn’t have time to try to figure out what Victor was talking about. He needed to think fast. He couldn’t just let it all end like this.

  That’s when he saw it. A narrow metal ladder climbing the alley walls up to the roof. He had to take a chance, and he had to do it now, before those guys with their freaky weapons got much closer.

  In one swift movement, Beacon launched himself at the wall. The guards were fast, but he was desperate. He climbed quickly, his sweaty fingers slipping on the cold metal.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Victor ordered. “Stop him!”

  A blue laser beam struck the brick next to Beacon’s head, sending mortar crumbling below. Dust clouds rose in the air. Bang, bang, bang. Laser after laser. If it wasn’t for all the brick dust in the alley impeding the guard’s aim, he would have been dead already. As it was, the last beam had struck so close that the heat of the laser burned the side of Beacon’s palm. He squinted and climbed faster.

  The ladder shuddered beneath him. He glanced down through the mushroom cloud of dust. The redheaded guard was climbing after him. Beacon launched himself up the rungs faster, but a hand closed around his ankle. Without thinking, Beacon kicked hard. There was a sickening crunch as his heel connected with the guard’s nose. The guard roared and fell from the ladder, disappearing through the dust. Beacon heard the thud as the guard smashed into the ground. Horror washed through him. He’d never hurt another person like that before. But then the other guard leaped onto the ladder in his place, and he forgot all about their feelings.

  A deep, throaty growl filled the air. Beacon shivered. He knew that sound. He paused and squinted through the dust. The air cleared for a moment, and he saw shiny brown fur. The dog slunk toward the ladder. Its rumbling snarl sounded over the crash of Beacon’s heart.

  The dog launched himself at the guard. The guard yelped as he was ripped from the ladder and tossed aside like a cheap chew toy. For a horrible second Beacon thought that he was next, but the dog spun toward Victor.

  Victor took a step back, just as the dog leaped. But Victor whipped out a tentacled arm and struck the dog. It went crashing into the wall with a whimper. The dog rolled over and licked his wounded paw.

  Victor stepped toward the animal.

  “Hey! Stay away from my dog.”

  The homeless boy stood framed in the alley entrance.

  5

  “Ah, look who it is,” Victor said, a smile curling his lips. “The prodigal son.”

  Shock poured through Beacon’s body. Victor knew this kid?

  “Didn’t think you’d remember me,” the boy said. “Just stay away from me and my dog,” the boy said.

  “And what if I don’t?” Victor said. “What are you planning to do about it?”

  Through the dust Beacon saw the barest glimpse of Victor’s transformation. In seconds, the human was gone, and a horrible squid creature filled the alley. It stood on two powerful tentacles, towering over the boy. Its freakish limbs slithered at its sides in a ghoulish dance. The jaw on the underside of its body peeled open, and it let out a bloodcurdling scream. Beacon knew what it was: a battle cry.

  Beacon expected the homeless kid to scream. To run. To faint—to do anything other than what he actually did next.

  His freckled skin split like tree bark. Something heavy rolled under his skin like a snake, and a tentacle snapped out of his torso.

  “Oh my God . . . ,” Beacon muttered. He watched in mute horror as the boy transformed. The new creature rose, a mass of tangled limbs. It was smaller than Victor, but its constantly undulating tentacles suggested the speed it was capable of. The air crackled with tension as the two squid creatures faced off.

  The smaller squid charged. Beacon was right—it was fast. The tentacles rippled over one another in a sickening swell of flesh. But the larger squid struck out with a powerful tentacle, and the smaller opponent went slamming into the brick with a thunderous boom. It didn’t stay down long. When the larger creature approached, it struck back. Victor didn’t see it coming and was catapulted across the alley. The action happened so fast, Beacon couldn’t keep track. It was all hurtling tentacl
es and crumbling brick, sonic booms and dust.

  A scream pierced the air. A woman stood frozen in the alley entrance. Beacon could suddenly see the whole thing from her point of view: Two larger-than-life squids duking it out. The woman slapped a hand over her mouth and stumbled back before she disappeared into the city street beyond. Beacon knew what would happen next. She would call the police. The media. Everyone. The squid creatures seemed to realize it, too. The larger one hesitated a moment before it slithered off the smaller one and retreated down the alley after the woman. Beacon saw a flash of his transformation back to human as Victor disappeared into the shadows.

  The homeless kid transformed next. The process was slower than Victor’s, less practiced. Beacon saw in gruesome detail the slimy tentacles withdrawing and absorbing, the skin slithering over a forming skeleton.

  When it was all done, the homeless kid ran a hand through his blond mop and zipped up his hooded sweatshirt, as if he hadn’t just transformed from a giant squid creature moments ago.

  A siren wailed in the distance.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” the boy said.

  Beacon’s fingers shook as he clung to the ladder. His whole body shook.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” he replied. “You’re a Sov.”

  “And you’re a human, but I’m not holding it against you.”

  Beacon swallowed hard.

  “How did you know where to find me?” Beacon asked. “I saw you at that pawnshop, then the junkyard, and now here—have you been following me?”

  “Yes,” the boy said, without missing a beat.

  “Oh.” Beacon hadn’t been expecting him to just admit it, and now didn’t know how to reply. “Well, why?”

  “Because Boots could tell your dad was Sov,” he said.

  So he had been right about the dog sensing his dad was off. He wished Everleigh and Arthur were here so he could prove to them that he wasn’t crazy. But they’d ditched him.

  “That’s why your dog tried to attack my dad?” Beacon said.

  “I trained him to alert me when a Sov is present.” The boy mopped sweat from his brow. “Sometimes they blend in so well, it can be hard to tell. Since we’re quizzing each other, what was Victor talking about—you saving the planet and all that?”

  “I have no idea,” Beacon said.

  “I just saved your life,” the boy reminded him darkly. “I stuck my neck out there for you. Tell me the truth.”

  “I’m not lying to you,” Beacon said. “I don’t know what he was going on about.”

  The boy stepped closer. He assessed Beacon for a long moment, as if he would somehow be able to tell if he was lying if he just stared at him hard enough. Then he sighed.

  “So are we going to have this whole conversation with you hanging off the wall like Spider-Man, or are you coming down?” he finally said.

  Beacon didn’t know what to do. He didn’t really trust this guy, but he had just saved his life. Besides, who knew how long it would be before Victor decided to come play again? And he was right—the police would be there soon, and he shouldn’t be around when they arrived.

  Beacon climbed down the ladder on gelatin legs. The entire alley was covered in sticky goo. The two guards lay comatose amid the mess of slime and mortar.

  “What about them?” Beacon nodded toward the guards.

  “What about them?” the boy answered.

  Beacon felt kind of bad leaving them. What if they died? But he guessed that help was on the way. Besides, they had just tried to murder him. Didn’t that make it fair? Distantly, Beacon thought back to the good old days before Jasper died and they’d moved to Driftwood Harbor, when his ethical decision-making had been limited to whether or not to tell his aunt Deb the truth that her new haircut made her look like she wanted to speak to a manager.

  The boy shook his head and turned around. “Come on, Boots.”

  The dog stood up obediently and limped after its owner. After a few steps, it lost the limp and trotted happily behind him toward the alley exit.

  Beacon raced to catch up and bumped into the boy, who had unexpectedly stopped and bent over. He braced himself on his knees as he inhaled deeply.

  “You okay?” Beacon asked hesitantly.

  “I’m fine,” the boy said, standing up again. “Just needed a minute. Let’s go.”

  He started walking again, and Beacon followed, picking his way through the goo. He couldn’t help but notice how pale and mottled the boy looked.

  “So, what’s your name, anyway?” Beacon said.

  “Galen.”

  “Well, thank you, Galen,” Beacon said. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come along. Probably would have been squid food. No offense,” he added quickly, realizing that Galen was also a squid.

  Galen shook his head. In the light of a nearby streetlamp, Beacon could see sweat trickling down his temples. Beacon was about to ask if he was sure he was okay when Galen stopped at the Sov guards’ van, which was still parked at the end of the alley. Galen reached for the door handle.

  “What are you doing?” Beacon asked. “Are you going to steal their car? Because I don’t think that’s a good idea. It probably has a GPS tracking device or something.”

  Galen opened the driver’s-side door, and frantic moaning came into sharp focus. Beacon gasped. Galen disabled the child locks, and Beacon whipped open the rear door. Sure enough, Everleigh and Arthur were bound and gagged in the back seat.

  Everleigh’s face was red and sweaty from screaming so hard, and Arthur’s broken glasses sat crookedly on his nose.

  “Handkerchiefs,” Galen muttered, peering into the back. “No chloroform, even? Must have cut the budget this year.”

  Beacon pulled the handkerchiefs out of Everleigh and Arthur’s mouths.

  “Beacon!” Arthur said. “I knew you’d save us!”

  Everleigh spit hair out of her mouth.

  “Took you long enough!” she said.

  “Would it kill you to say thank you?” Beacon said.

  “Maybe not, but why take the chance?” Everleigh said.

  Galen pulled something out of his back pocket. Beacon saw a flash of metal. He registered it was a knife just as the boy advanced on Everleigh.

  Everleigh gasped and pushed herself back in her seat, but Galen was too fast; he swiftly sliced the knife toward her. Everleigh looked down in shock, but no blood bloomed on her shirt. He’d just cut her bindings.

  “A little warning would have been nice.” She rubbed her raw wrists as Galen cut Arthur’s ties next. Then he snapped the multi-tool closed and stowed it back in his pocket.

  “We have to get out of here,” Galen said. “Tweedledee and Tweedledum are waking up.”

  The guards in the alley were moaning and sitting up. They needed to get out of there. Victor might have been gone, but he didn’t want to take any more chances with the guard’s wrist lasers.

  Beacon yanked Everleigh, then Arthur out of the back of the van. Then the group jogged after Galen and Boots out of the alley and onto a busy street, bustling with people and cars. It was hard to believe that life was carrying on normally for others when Battlestar Galactica had just taken place around the corner.

  Everleigh appraised Galen as they walked.

  “You’re a Sov,” she said.

  “Don’t deny it,” Arthur added quickly. “We saw the whole thing from the back of the van.”

  “Then you saw that he saved me,” Beacon said. “I would have been killed if it hadn’t been for him.”

  “But why?” Everleigh said suspiciously. “If you’re one of them, why save our lives?”

  “I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” Galen muttered.

  “My sister is being rude, but she has a good point,” Beacon said. “I’m grateful you did it and everyt
hing, so don’t take this the wrong way, but why did you help me? Hey, can you slow down? Stop! Where are you going? We need answers!”

  Galen sighed and turned abruptly to face them.

  “Just let it go,” Galen said. “You’re free now. I’d recommend getting out of the city. Your cover is completely blown. It’s not safe here.”

  “Who are you?” Everleigh said. “What do you know? And no offense, dude, but you look rough. Are you okay?”

  Galen ignored her and turned around.

  “You’re just leaving us?” Beacon called.

  “What exactly did you think, that we’re going steady now or something?” Galen said. “Yeah, I’m leaving. I have enough problems looking out for myself. I don’t need a babysitting job.”

  “Who said anything about babysitting?” Arthur said. “We can look out for ourselves.”

  “Is that what you were doing in the back of that van?” Galen asked.

  Arthur opened and closed his mouth.

  Galen resumed walking.

  Beacon saw it all happen as if in slow motion: One moment, Galen was walking down the sidewalk, and the next, he crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been released.

  “Galen!” Beacon ran over and flipped the boy onto his back. Everleigh and Arthur crouched down next to him. Boots nudged past their legs and frantically licked Galen’s cheeks.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Arthur asked.

  “I don’t know,” Beacon said.

  For a horrible second, Beacon thought the boy was dead.

  “Hey, is everything all right over here?”

  A man in a beanie and puffer coat walked over. Turned out New Yorkers did care about others.

  “Do you need me to call an ambulance?” the man asked.

  Galen’s eyes fluttered open the tiniest bit.

  He smacked his mouth, as if speaking were a monumental effort. “No,” he finally said. “No ambulance.”

  The guy looked doubtfully at Galen sprawled on the sidewalk, then took out his phone.