He didn’t want to think about Ryan.
He didn’t want to think about Ryan’s dad, or anything they had gone through.
He didn’t want to, because he didn’t want to think of his own dad. Of what he might have gone through.
Reaching above his head, he absent-mindedly patted Shadow, who curled up with him as he lay down. He thought it would be comforting, to stroke her soft, warm fur, but it just reminded him of what he had lost. Of what he almost lost. What he might have lost.
What Ryan had already definitely lost.
He sat up, and Shadow sat up beside him, licking his face.
He looked across the room at the little box made of mats. It was really small. How could a kid fit in there and stay there all day? It made him think of the night that he had stayed in the bathtub at his former friend’s house. Sometimes there’s comfort in small spaces.
Alex shuffled toward it a few feet; Shadow followed. He could now see directly into the fort. He could see the shape of Ryan, lying on the floor. His only movement was the smallest of breaths. The faint light reflected in his wide eyes as he looked out at Alex.
Ryan watched him, as he himself was watching Ryan. They stared at each other, not saying a word, for a few minutes. Alex’s headache started to fade, and he finally felt calm.
Evidently Shadow found the whole scene dull, so she sighed heavily as she went to the corner of the room, let out a huge yawn, and lay back down on the floor. She stayed awake, keeping her eyes on Alex, but Alex knew she could sense that he was okay.
He also knew that he should say something.
He rarely talked to little kids other than his sister, and her responses were mostly gibberish. It would be more difficult with Ryan, but he had to say something.
“You like dogs, Ryan?” He felt it was a safe question. Ryan had to have seen Shadow by now if he was aware of anything. Alex wasn’t entirely sure, but he had a feeling that Ryan was taking it all in, aware of everything that was happening. “Her name is Shadow,” he said, thinking he was on the right track to a conversation. “She’s five years old. She’s a black lab. Or a Labrador retriever. Or a mix. Or maybe they’re the same thing. I don’t know. She’s a lab. She ...” He was lost for a moment, searching for another fact about the dog. “She’s my dog.”
Ryan curled up into himself a little tighter—somehow even smaller, making the mat-fort look roomy—as he talked to him. He also noticed that Ryan’s eyes had moved to Shadow.
“Yup, she’s a good dog,” he added, unsure of what to say. He realized that he hadn’t left an opportunity for the younger boy to speak. Maybe Ryan would talk if everyone else would just shut up for a minute to let him. “Do you have a dog?”
Nothing.
Ryan’s impossibly big eyes were back on him.
Alex looked back into them and thought of the perfect thing to say. “Well, you do now, Ryan.” He smiled.
Still no response of any kind.
“For the next little while, Shadow is our dog. Mine, and yours, and David’s, and Nicole’s.” Again, he smiled. He wasn’t certain, but he thought Ryan relaxed a bit in the fort.
He was getting somewhere.
“Yup. And when we get out of this, you can come over to my house and visit her, and I can take her to your house. She really loves going for walks, so I know that she’ll want to. Where do you live?”
Does Ryan even have a house anymore?
Does he have anyone to have a house for him to live in?
Do I?
As these thoughts rushed into his mind, his headache came back. He decided to lie back down, just where he was, next to Ryan.
Time was lost to him as he lay there, listening to his own breathing, and the two other breaths in the room. Occasionally, they got in sync with one another.
He came back to the world when David ran down the hall.
“Alex! Come on!” he shouted into the room. “We’re done. We have to make a plan!”
When Alex walked into the workshop, he saw six boards standing up against the wall, each with a different head.
Head smasher, he thought.
“Why six?” he asked.
“Because ...” Nicole started.
“Because,” David cut her off, “if one breaks, then we have back-ups. Right now, there’s two per person, and I have a few other boards ready if we go through those.”
Alex nodded with nothing to add. Clearly they had thought it through.
“Second,” David continued, “each stick is different.” He picked one up; it had an iron as a head. “This one is really heavy and pointy, so it can do a lot of damage. But, it’s really hard to swing.”
“Maybe for you, spaz,” Nicole said, with a smirk.
“Har har,” David replied without glancing in her direction. He picked up another. This one had a long screwdriver on the end, pointing down. “This one is more of a stabber. Like, you can just,” he swung down a few times, “you know, stab it into their heads.”
“Will that work?” Alex asked. He assumed they had to do some real damage to kill the mudmen.
“I think so,” David replied. “It makes some sense that their brains are what keeps them going ... just not any other organs. Actually ...I don’t know.”
Nicole made a loud gasp. “Did His Majesty just admit to not knowing something? Someone call the press!”
“Do you know for a fact, Nicole?” David said, now unable to hide his frustration.
“No, I don’t,” she replied with a smile. “But I’m not the one who claims to know one way or the other. I’m just glad to see that you’re over it. You’re growing!”
“Shut up.”
“There. That’s the David I know and ... well, not love, but—”
“So, we have some smashers and some
