“Right,” Cade said, stepping forward. “We totally gave up the science project. We thought of something better instead.”
Jonathan turned to run, but Cade was too fast. He lunged forward and got a handful of Jonathan’s coat and shirt. He clamped down on his shoulder painfully and hauled him back. Ox stepped up and grabbed Jonathan by the lapels. Both boys looked down at him, their faces cruel masks in the flood of the headlights behind him.
“We decided to do this for Toby,” Ox said. “He would have wanted it this way.”
“It’s a hell of a lot better than flowers and teddy bears,” Cade added.
Panic flared in hot sparks through Jonathan’s chest. Christ, what were they going to do to him? One last beating in the name of Toby Skabich? Maybe throw him against a tree a few times to make up for the days they hadn’t managed to toss him into a locker?
From their right, a rustling of bushes rose up, and Ox whipped his head around.
“It’s just the wind, Numbnuts,” Cade said. “Come on, let’s do this. It’s freezing out here.”
Then Jonathan was being lifted off the ground. Cade had his ankles, and Ox slid around to his back, grabbing him under the armpits. They hauled him like a corpse to the water’s edge. Jonathan struggled, nearly freed himself of Ox’s grip, then realized if he did shake free, he’d only succeed in cracking his head against the trail or maybe a rock.
They were going to throw him into the lake. An offering to their dead friend, a token of their appreciation for Toby’s guidance over the years. He taught them to be bullies and now they were showing how well they’d learned the lesson.
“On three?” Cade said, grinning down at Jonathan.
Then he was being rocked, swung in the air. Once the two larger boys had him moving at a good speed, Ox started to count.
“One,” he said.
The tree line, the sky and the stars all rocked to the side. Then rolled back. In their center was Cade’s cruel face.
“Two,” Ox called.
“Don’t!” Jonathan said, more frightened by the impending humiliation than the freezing water.
“Three!”
He sailed through the air. Wind cut at his neck and cheeks. His arms flailed out, scrambling to find something to hold on to, anything to stop this. But then he was falling. He hit the water with a crash.
His body went terribly numb as he sank into the lake. A thousand icy needles punctured his skin, and his chest grew so tight from the cold that he felt certain his ribs would crush his racing heart. Frigid water pushed into his nose, stinging his sinuses. His wet clothes acted as weights to drag him down.
Jonathan paddled frantically. He kicked with his legs. A submerged tree branch scraped his ankle. Then his foot hit the muck at the bottom of the lake. The other soon followed. He swatted at the water with all of his strength until he could stand upright. Water cascaded over his face as he broke the surface. He gasped for air, then spit out a mouthful of spray. He brushed back his hair and wiped at his eyes.
His feet were so cold he couldn’t feel them anymore.
On the shore Ox and Cade laughed. They punched in another congratulations and followed it quickly with a high five. Both boys retrieved fresh beers and clinked the cans together.
“How’s the water, Barnes?” Cade asked, grinning like a lunatic.
Ox toasted the air with his beer can. “For you, Toby.” He upended the can and drank deeply. Once finished with that, he stepped forward and poured a stream of beer into the lake. “Drink up, man. Rest in peace.”
Then the night came for him.
Jonathan wasn’t far from the lake’s edge. Ox and Cade had only managed to toss him about ten feet in, but the bottom dropped off quickly and he stood in water up to his chest. He could wade out in a few seconds, and that’s what his body wanted to do. It wanted to flee the freezing water, but Jonathan remained where he was, fearing what else Ox and Cade had in store for him should he climb out of the lake.
They stood on the dirt path, lit from behind by the headlights of Cade’s Ram truck. They congratulated each other and raised beers up, toasting Toby the Scab and Jonathan’s dunking. They laughed.
Behind them, the headlights dimmed. The brash halogen beams faded until the path was nearly black.
“Battery’s dying,” Ox said.
“No way,” Cade replied.
From where he stood in the lake, Jonathan saw that Cade was right. Something moved over the truck’s hood, down its grille to cover the bulbs. It was a sheet of darkness. A shadow with no source, like a piece of night torn from the sky. Like the shadow spirit he’d seen outside his bedroom window.
“What the hell is that?” Ox asked.
And then he found out.
The murky form sliding over Cade’s truck tore loose and glided over the path. Ox threw an arm up over his face, suddenly blinded by the exposed headlights. Jonathan watched as the Reaper flew, flat and rippling like the flag of some dark country.
“Jesus!” Cade cried, throwing his beer can at the approaching shape.
Ox spun around as if to run into the lake, and the shadow caught him. It fell over his head like a hood. Beneath it, his eyes grew wide and his mouth opened as if to scream. A moment later, he was being hauled off the path, into the air. Ox sailed over the lake, his feet only inches from Jonathan’s head. Then, he changed direction and soared back toward the dense woods.
His body hit high against a pine trunk, maybe twenty feet up. The Reaper engulfed him, secured Ox against the tree like a bug in a cocoon. Hands raked the fabric of the shadow. Feet kicked. But Ox couldn’t break through.
On the path, Cade screamed. He did a strange dance, making little circles in the dirt. He called out for his friend, but his voice was already heavy with mourning.
A dark shape—another Reaper—raced past Jonathan. It skimmed the surface of the lake. And it wasn’t alone. A third slid down the trunk of a tree at Cade’s back.
“Look out!” Jonathan cried.
Cade looked up at the branches and saw the thing coming for him, moving like a stain over the rough bark. He ran and screamed, his voice high and piercing as he charged for his truck. The shadow peeled away from the tree and tore after him.
Jonathan turned in the water, looking over his shoulders, checking his back to make sure no more of the shadowy Reapers came for him. When he turned back, he saw Cade was inside the cab of his truck. Fresh terror flared in Jonathan’s chest. That ass was going to leave him here, leave him with these things.
“Cade,” he called, hearing the engine roar to life. “Come on, man!” he pleaded.
But Cade was beyond reason. Jonathan could see his terrified face through the windshield, lit up by the cab light. The football player darted his head from side to side, as if trying to figure out how the vehicle worked.
A shadow slid down the windshield like dirty water.
The truck roared again and sped backward down the path. It crashed into a tree a moment later. Then, the truck lurched forward, eased toward Jonathan as Cade turned the wheel, adjusted the tires on the trail.
The truck was gone a minute later, the headlights receding to dime-sized dots through the trees as Cade escaped the nightmare at the lake’s edge. Jonathan looked for Ox in the trees, but it was difficult to find him in the dark. His gaze darted between the tree trunks and the black mouth of the woods. The dirt trail rolled through the chasm like a brown tongue, taunting him.
Jonathan’s body shivered violently against the freezing water and the fear. He took a step toward the shore, then paused, looking for the Reapers, knowing he’d never see them coming. But he knew he couldn’t just stand there. He could swim, but where? Besides, he’d seen one of the things gliding over the lake, moving fast. If they wanted him, they’d catch him before he made it ten yards.
A tree branch groaned, and its needles hissed. The noise repeated and grew louder. Jonathan snapped his
