The Conch Shell of Doom (23 page)

BOOK: The Conch Shell of Doom
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“We all know you did,” she said.

Shoulders heaving, Earl moved closer to Alexis, looming like a predator over its prey. He stood well over a foot taller than her. Bailey wished he had muscles. Or courage. Anything that didn’t make him feel like the Cowardly Lion, so it would be easier to stand up for her.

“We were keeping him safe.” Earl poked Alexis in the shoulder. “You have no idea what we’ve done for our son.”

Screw the Cowardly Lion.
Bailey realized he didn’t need courage. Only anger. He moved in between Alexis and his father. The insanity needed to end. “Let it go, Dad. I’m here, I’m fine, so stop bullying my friend and let’s go home. I’m sorry I broke curfew, but this is insane.”

Earl’s body relaxed a little, though he still eyeballed Alexis. “Fine.”

She laid a hand on Bailey’s forearm. “Are you sure?”

“You keep your mouth shut,” Earl spat.

“Enough!” Bailey tried not to think about the punishment to come for yelling at his father and instead focused on Alexis. “What choice do I have?”

“I don’t know.” Alexis’s hand slid off his arm, her soft fingers leaving an impression on Bailey’s skin. He wished the contact would last just a little longer.

“Don’t bother us again,” Earl said. “I mean it. You are not to speak to my boy ever again, you hear me?”

“Holy crap, Dad.” Bailey held his hands up in an effort to calm Earl down. “Relax.”

Alexis scowled at Earl and then got into the car. Bailey watched her Jeep turn the corner and disappear down the street, leaving him alone with his dad. He should’ve felt the slightest bit victorious, but with Alexis gone, he only felt defeated. Would he ever get out from under his parents’ thumbs? If he went to college, would things be different? Every time he was onto something, they were quick to squash it like a bug under their shoes. It seemed like he was snake bitten, unable to get away with anything.

Bailey and his father walked home in silence, the only sound Earl’s heavy breathing. “You have anything to say for yourself?”
 

Bailey looked down, watching one foot step in front of the other. “I said I was sorry, but you didn’t have to drag me out of the car like some crazy person.”

“You’re going to call me crazy after what you just pulled? Do you have any idea how stupid that was?”

“What did I pull? I was out late with my friends. Sue me.”

Earl wrapped a hand around the back of Bailey’s neck and forced him to turn and face him. “You little ingrate. We know you were over at Mr. Lovell’s. Do you know how stupid—” Earl caught himself and took deep breath. “If you only knew what your mother and I have sacrificed for you. What we’re
still
sacrificing for you.”

“I don’t care.” Bailey struggled to break free of his father’s grip. “You embarrassed me. You’re supposed to be my father, not some—”

“Not some what?” Earl’s hand tightening around Bailey’s neck. “Thanks to your mother and me, you’ll have a long life full of getting embarrassed in front of girls, dating girls, even marrying a girl. You should be thanking me, not giving me all this lip.”

If his father squeezed any harder, Bailey worried his head would pop like a zit. “Dad, you’re hurting me.”

Earl sighed and let Bailey go. He rubbed his neck. That definitely counted as child abuse. He hated his father. It didn’t matter what they were doing with Mr. Lovell; Earl and Wanda were definitely changing for the worse. Couldn’t they see that?

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you’ve got to see the big picture,” Earl said. “It’s the only way you can understand what your mother and I are doing.”

“Spare me. I’ve seen the big picture.” The more the pain in his neck throbbed, the angrier he got. “I’m embarrassed to have you and mom as my parents.”

“You don’t mean that.” Earl seemed genuinely hurt by the remark.

Good.

“I’m sixteen. I’m not some little kid you have to shield from the world. Anxiety or not, you don’t have to keep treating me like I may break at any moment. Yeah, we were following Mr. Lovell around tonight. We know about him, the Awakening, the Conch Shell of Doom,
all of it
.”

Earl stopped in his tracks. “You know?”

Bailey had never seen his dad look so terrified. It almost made Bailey feel bad. The two of them neared the house. The front porch light was on, revealing a black van in the driveway. He didn’t need to get any closer to know it was the
A-Team
van.
 

“Unbelievable.” Bailey figured that would happen.

“What?”

Bailey wanted to disown his parents on the spot. How could they still want to march him back into the belly of the beast? “
Et tu
, Dad?”

Earl stared in the same direction. “They only want to talk to you. That’s it. I promise nothing bad will happen.”

Bailey knew every time someone promised nothing bad would happen he could rest assured that was exactly what happened. But what to do? Punch his dad? Spit in his face? There were so many choices. Bailey decided to kick his dad in the shin and then bolted through the backyard of his neighbor’s house, running through some shrubbery that nipped at his arms and legs.

“Bailey!” his dad called out. “Please! We can’t protect you if you don’t let us!”

His parents sure had a busted way of keeping their son safe. Bailey jumped over a tricycle and ran across the street one block over from his house. The sounds of his dad yelling faded into the night as he kept running. Humidity clung to Bailey’s skin like flypaper, making everything sticky. His lungs ached for a rest. Bailey stopped and leaned against a tree to catch his breath. Man, he hated running. Few things sucked like the feeling that his lungs had been put in a shredder and were ripping apart. The worst part was he figured he’d only run maybe a quarter of a mile.

Car lights approached from behind. Bailey rolled his eyes and took off running, trying to ignore the burning in his throat from lack of oxygen. The car’s lights got brighter, making it easy for him to see where he was going. He heard the engine a few feet behind him ease off the power.

Sweet holy hell, that car’s coming after me.

“Give me a break,” he said in between breaths.

Bailey turned a corner, straining to see if it was the
A-Team
van chasing him. With his head turned, he ran full-speed into a parked SUV, shins slamming into the front bumper. He fell to the ground, surprised, confused, out of breath, and shins smarting like someone took a bat to them. A pair of hands grabbed Bailey and dragged him into a car. He hurt too much and his body was too worn out to fight them off.

Only one word went through Bailey’s mind before he passed out.

Shit
.

Earl Southwick walked into his house, head hanging low. Mr. Lovell stood in the den, disappointed to see Earl without his son. Mrs. Southwick sat on the couch, trembling. Upon seeing her husband, she rose to her feet.

“Where’s Bailey?”

Earl couldn’t look at his wife. He stared at the floor as he took her hand and sat her down on the couch. “I tried.”

That’s unfortunate.

Mr. Lovell stood by the fireplace, a smirk on his face. He agreed with Trenton. Percy sat in the chair across from Bailey’s parents, looking like he knew what was coming next. In a way, he did. Punishment was coming, he just didn’t know what form it would take.

“In my day, children had more respect for their parents.” Mr. Lovell paced around the den. “My father was a strong man. Fed his family with brawn and sheer willpower. When that wasn’t enough, he simply did what had to be done. The world was a rougher place back then. Not the fluffy pillowcase it is now. If you weren’t a man, you were dead.”

Percy looked to be holding back laughter. Whether it was at Mr. Lovell’s words or the Southwicks’ same terrified expression, it didn’t matter what the stoner found funny. Better to ignore it all together.

“Today’s world breeds sheep,” Mr. Lovell continued. “Weaklings like yourself who don’t have the capacity to demand, or even deserve, respect. Your children don’t even respect you. They expect the world on a platter, because you constantly roll over at the first hint of conflict. After the Awakening, everything will be different. Those who insist on remaining sheep will be eaten by wolves.”

Those words were never truer than in my time. They’ll be true again soon enough.

Mr. Lovell loomed over Wanda, whose body tensed. Tears filled her eyes. Mr. Lovell shot a hand out, grabbing her face. She squealed and jumped, her breathing so deep her chest went up and down like a rollercoaster.
 

“Don’t,” Earl pleaded, though he made no move to defend her. “Please. We’ve done everything you asked.”

“See?” Mr. Lovell chuckled, shoving Wanda back. He wiped his gloved hands, as if touching her was disgusting. “I lay a hand on your wife, and you don’t even try to stop me. You just stand there, begging like a dog. You’re pathetic. No wonder you can’t control your son.”

Come to think of it, he probably can’t control his wife, either.

Mr. Lovell rubbed his stomach in approval. Earl Southwick barely had control of his waistline. How could he control anything else?
 

Earl laid a shaking hand on Mr. Lovell’s arm. “Please. I’m begging you. Tell us how to make this right.”

So, this is how he stands up for his family? By begging. What a putrid human being.

Mr. Lovell looked down at the hand, which Earl quickly removed. Mr. Lovell growled, pointing at Earl’s terrified face. “Are you so weak, so emasculated, that you can’t even bring yourself to defend your own wife?”

Wanda’s lips quivered as her gaze met her husband’s. Both of them exhaled, a defeated look on their faces, like they were resigned to whatever misfortune came their way. Mr. Lovell loved the feeling of power that gave him, almost as much as Trenton did. Percy’s phone vibrated. He smiled, showing Mr. Lovell a text from Officer Jackson.

Found him. 2640 Oceanside Road, Apt. 307. On our way now.

Mr. Lovell nodded toward Percy. With that out of the way, all that remained was to finish up there. Mr. Lovell took his sunglasses off. Wanda shrieked and dug her face into Earl’s chest.

“Look at me,” Mr. Lovell said, pulling Wanda closer. She clung to her husband, crying
no,
but he still did nothing to help. She tried to look away, but Mr. Lovell wrapped his hands around her skull and then violently jerked her face in the direction of his.

“I said look at me.”

She closed her eyes, trying in vain to turn her head away. “No.”

“Yes. You will.” Mr. Lovell’s eyes took on an orange glow. Wanda stopped struggling, her eyes meeting his, the light casting an auburn glow on her face. “You’re going to take care of your son and his friends. By any means necessary.”

“What are you doing to her?” Earl asked.

Mr. Lovell ignored him, making sure to keep eye contact with Wanda. Otherwise, the trance would be broken. “Even if it means killing. Do you understand?”

Wanda’s eyes went entirely black for a moment as the hypnosis washed over her. “I understand.”

“Good.” Mr. Lovell released her, let out a relaxed
ah
, and then turned to Earl
.
“Now. Look at me."

Franklin wanted to say he’d downed his sixth shot of whiskey, but drinking straight from the bottle made that more of a guess than anything.
Those stupid kids
. Caught right in the middle of everything. Yes, they annoyed him to the point where suffocating them with a pillow seemed like a good idea, but Franklin knew sending them away was a mistake. They were at Mr. Lovell’s. Whether those kids liked it or not, all of them were in it now. Without Franklin’s help, one, or all of them, would probably wind up dead. He’d just been so angry. They ruined his best chance to get the Conch Shell of Doom and put an end to the Awakening before it could begin. Julie took the bottle from him and downed a couple shots herself.

“So, tonight.” She swallowed the whiskey like it was water. “Is this like a typical night out for you?”

“It depends.” He took a quick sip and handed the bottle back to her. “But yeah. Usually.”

“With all this excitement, what do you to get your kicks?”

“Sleep.”

“What’s the fun in that?” Julie took another swig of the whiskey, her eyes never leaving his gaze.
 

Hm
. Franklin felt a rush of excitement. He couldn’t exactly keep kidding himself when it came to Julie, but that didn’t mean he had to give in to every whimsy that passed through his mind. “You’d be surprised.”

She set the bottle down on the table, clearly disappointed he didn’t act on her cue. What did she expect? One last fling before the world ended? The adventure of a lifetime? Franklin didn’t jump from one death-defying act to the next like he was in a movie. Immortal or not, death-defying acts tired him out.
 

He fished the car keys out of his pocket. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Julie moved in close to Franklin, her lips pouty. The smell of whiskey on her breath was more than noticeable. “Are you sure you can drive?”

“I’m okay.” Franklin had a slight buzz, but he felt comfortable with driving. One drawback to his healing abilities meant that his body processed alcohol faster than others.
 

“You sure?” She played with the zipper on his jacket. “It may not be safe out there. Probably not the best time to be alone.”

Franklin laughed, a little embarrassed, and then bashfully looked down at the floor. Julie’s offer couldn’t have been more appealing, but she was only having a typical reaction to everything that happened. Some people broke down, others got horny. Franklin preferred the latter. Normally, he’d take advantage of the situation, but not that evening. He was too angry, too tired, and only in the mood for sleep.
 

“It’s safer for you back home,” he said. “You’re a little tipsy, and you probably still have an adrenaline rush. Trust me on this one. It’s better if you have a clear mind.”

Julie smiled, her head bobbing back and forth. She was definitely tipsy. “It’s better if you—”

BOOK: The Conch Shell of Doom
11.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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