“What are you talking about?” asked Camilla.
“You tell her,” Yoshida insisted.
“Okay…Yoshi here got bit by a biker chick and now it makes him go all Monster on the Campus every night when he falls asleep.”
Yoshida face-palmed.
The squash demons called to each other, their spine-shocking cries hitting an unpleasant frequency.
“They’re making plans, bro,” said Pedro. “Or arguing over pie recipes.”
“Just what the hell do you propose, Petey?”
Pedro shrugged. “You wolf-out and dig up the garden.”
“What!?” Yoshida looked like he had been betrayed. “How? Sleeping pills?”
“No, man,” Pedro said. “I’d have to K.O. you.”
“You think I’m gonna let you punch me, you beefed-up butthole?”
“Not punch, man,” said Pedro. “The sleeper hold. From wrestling.”
Yoshida blinked at both the insanity and the soundness of the stratagem.
“What if you put me out and I don’t change? Then I’m a useless limp body for you to deal with. What if I do change…and go after you?”
“They ain’t gonna just ignore you.”
Yoshida stared at him, the dark making him appear half-transformed already.
“I just wanna get those chicks clear,” Pedro whispered. “Then I’ll come back and do whatever I gotta do to help you.”
“But I’ll probably attack you, man.”
“Wolves are smart, and you are too, Yoshi. I’m guessing you’ll make those things a priority.”
The pumpkin’s multi-jointed limb, notably thicker since they had last seen it, punched through what was left of the living-room window.
“Back bedroom!” said Yoshi, sweeping up Ophelia as Pedro huddled her mother close.
* * * *
McGlazer leaned into the Community Center’s oily old drill until the screw caught and pulled the plywood flush against the door frame. It felt strange that Kerwin Stuyvesant, who, before being mutilated, had never been a fan of manual labor, was so quick to hand him the next screw and press his body against the plywood.
The drill died in McGlazer’s hands, along with the lights.
Kerwin raised his voice modulator. “They took out the power.”
“Are they capable of…?”
“Much worse.” Kerwin knelt to grope for a hammer in the toolbox.
The silence was filled by the unearthly call of one of the pumpkin demons, all too close.
Another one answered, nearer.
“There’s a deer rifle in my truck,” said Timbo Linger, still dutifully adorned with a red foam nose and tiny derby hat.
“Get it now,” said McGlazer.
Kerwin patted Timbo’s shoulder twice and raised the hammer, nodding to say, “I’ll cover you,” then they were out in the blasting rain.
“He’ll be right back, don’t worry.” McGlazer told son and daughter.
“Can we pray for him?” asked the girl.
McGlazer didn’t stop for a dramatic pause. “Yes, let’s pray.”
* * * *
Timbo’s GMC Sierra was parked halfway across the lot. With rain pelting them so hard it was painful and scarlet flashes rolling across the skyline, Timbo and Kerwin felt like they were on another planet. “Hop in!” Timbo called over the roar. “I’ll drive us back!”
As Kerwin slid in, he realized his false chin was fully exposed under the truck’s interior light. Timbo glanced at him, his gaze drawn to the prosthesis.
Kerwin raised his amplifier, prepared to apologize for the offense of his appearance.
Timbo waited for him to speak. Kerwin decided to stay silent.
“Check the glove box for the shells, will ya?” Timbo said, starting the engine.
* * * *
Across the gym, Bernard cursed at the sudden darkness but did not slow as he raised a folding table and considered what would be the strongest angle to brace it against the center’s doors. Perhaps he had expected this, things getting worse. As they did every Halloween.
Bernard also considered how he had battled the mushroom monsters a year before. These…sentient pumpkin arachnid things the mayor had described would be operating under different rules. And he didn’t have any of the magnesium strips he’d used against the fungus fiends.
Brinke appeared at his side, startling a cry out of him.
“Sorry.”
“Well, it’s not like I wasn’t already scared, so…”
“I need a ride,” said the witch.
“What? Are you…?”
“The boys said Ysabella is at the inn, and not doing well.”
“Yeah, true.”
“If it was closer, I would go there on foot.”
“I’ll take you,” said Bernard. “I need to check on my girls anyway.”
Chapter 27
Night Time Crawling
Settlement era
“We have visitors, sir!” Chloris called. Having heard the horses from her bedroom, she was out of bed and at the door before the knock came.
“Where’s Bennington?” asked Adonijah Cooke without greeting. “I need to speak to him.” The second of his four sons, Jonas, coaxed his mount to the corner of the house where he would keep watch.
“He’ll be along in a minute,” Chloris told him calmly. “Hello, Adonijah. Boys.”
Cooke and his grown boys had long served as a police force for the settlement, due to their strapping size and legendary ruggedness. The oldest, Phineas, was considered Ember Hollow’s best marksman, given that Chloris had never challenged him for the title. Their gruff demeanor was part of the job, a necessary emotional distance they could take on and toss off like a garment.
Their visit meant they suspected Bennington of something. Chloris immediately thought of their gaunt visitor and patient. He had, after all, been found bleeding—and then tried to kill her.
Initial panic told her to tell the Cookes about Everett here and now, before Bennington came. They would take the oddball away, and what a relief that would be.
But this was not what her employer had instructed.
“Gentlemen,” came his booming voice as he entered, ending her inner deliberation. “It’s late.”
“Go with Jonas,” Adonijah told Elias. “Stables and barn.” He summoned Rufus to follow him inside. They brushed past Chloris, holding their matchlocks low.
“Have you seen Hezekiah Hardison?”
“Not in quite a few days, I’m afraid,” Bennington answered. “He’s friendlier with Conal these days.”
Chloris glanced toward the short corridor that ended in the guest room, where Everett lay recovering, and realized her hands were trembling.
“Glory Brightwell is missing as well.” Adonijah surveyed the room. “Their cabin is in shambles.”
“Forgive me, sir,” Chloris said. “Perhaps she and Hezekiah…”
Adonijah spun to glower at her in rebuke. “Bennington, kindly instruct your servant to be silent unless
