The Beast from the East Page 4

  Nat peered down at me from the top of the tree. “What’s wrong?” he called down.

  “Come down!” I screamed. “The branches—”

  I was too late.

  The upper branches grabbed at Nat’s arms. Pinned them to his side. I saw him gasp in shock.

  Other branches lashed out, slapping at him.

  Slapping him. Whipping him.

  “Ginger!” Nat screamed. “Help me!”

  What could I do?

  I gazed up in horror as two lower branches reached up toward Nat. The top branches passed him down to the lower branches.

  The branches wrapped around him, hugging tight.

  This isn’t happening! I told myself. This can’t be happening!

  Nat’s feet dangled in the air. He kicked furiously at the tree. “Let me go! Let me gooooo!”

  More branches lashed out. Some held him tight. Others swiped at him, slapping at him.

  The branches passed Nat down.

  They were carrying him lower, down to the center of the tree.

  Where the branches were the thickest.

  Where the tree’s arms were strongest.

  Nat cried out. He kicked out again and again. The branches wrapped around his legs.

  No way to climb up to him. Every branch was thrashing wildly. Even the little thin ones that couldn’t reach Nat were clawing upward. Straining to take a swipe at him.

  As I watched helplessly, the thickest branches pulled Nat into the center.

  He disappeared.

  “Help!” His muffled cry drifted down to me. “Ginger—it’s going to swallow me!”

  I had to do something. Had to pull him away somehow. Had to free him from the living tree.

  But how?

  We had gotten rid of the snakes. We had to get rid of the branches, too. If only …

  That’s it!

  I had a crazy idea. But maybe, just maybe it would work.

  If the tree is alive, maybe it has feelings, I thought.

  And if it has feelings, maybe it’s ticklish—just as the snakes were!

  “Ginger! Help!” Nat’s cries grew weaker.

  I knew I didn’t have much time.

  I leaped at the tree. A branch dipped down and slapped at me.

  I jumped back and scrambled around the trunk. I ducked as a thick branch swung at me.

  The tree was trying to keep me away while it swallowed up my brother. But I ducked beneath the slapping limbs and branches.

  Reached out. And began to tickle the rough bark.

  Tickled it with one hand. Then with both.

  Was that a shiver? Did the tree actually shiver?

  Or did I imagine it?

  Please! I silently begged. Please, please, let go of my brother.

  I tickled furiously with both hands. “Nat!” I called. “Nat! Can you hear me?”

  Silence.

  “Nat? Nat?”

  No answer.

  I didn’t give up. I tickled harder.

  The trunk started to jiggle.

  Bunches of leaves shook free and floated down. They landed in my hair and covered my arms as I jabbed and scratched at the tree trunk.

  I tickled harder. The branches shook and swayed. The trunk wriggled.

  Yes! I thought excitedly. It’s working! I think it is ticklish!

  I’ll make this tree collapse with laughter!

  I tickled harder. The trunk squirmed under my fingertips.

  I glanced up. Nat’s boots poked through the leaves.

  Then his legs. His arms. His face.

  The branches were shaking. Quivering and shaking.

  Nat swung free. He leaped from branch to branch. His tree-climbing skills were finally coming in handy!

  “Hurry!” I shouted up to him. “I can’t keep this up much longer. Jump!”

  Nat wriggled down the tree trunk.

  “Here goes!” Nat cried. He let go of the trunk and leaped into the air.

  He landed in a crouched position at my feet. “Whoa! Good job, Ginger!”

  I grabbed his hand and we hurtled away from the tree.

  Nat brushed twigs and leaves from his hair. “I saw some beasts!”

  I bit my lip. In all the excitement over the living tree, I had forgotten we were playing a deadly game.

  “I saw three of them,” Nat reported. “Fleg, Spork, and another one with a smashed tail. That way.” He pointed to the right.

  “What were they doing?” I asked.

  “They are all hiding behind a big, gray boulder. You can sneak up on them, easy.”

  “Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Piece of cake.”

  “You can do it.” Nat’s dark eyes locked on mine. “I know you can, Ginger.”

  Nat led the way. We crept slowly through the woods toward the boulder.

  The sky dimmed overhead and the air grew cooler. I knew that it was nearly evening. Soon the sun would disappear behind the Gulla Willow tree.

  I hoped I had enough time.

  “There’s the rock!” Nat whispered.

  I saw a small clearing in the trees. In the middle of the clearing a craggy, gray boulder rose up from the flat ground.

  It was big enough to hide a dozen beasts.

  My heartbeat quickened.

  “I’ll hide behind this cabbage plant,” Nat said.

  He ducked behind the plant. I followed. I wasn’t quite ready to face the beasts alone.

  I bent down and tightened my bootlace, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach.

  “Just sneak up on them,” Nat whispered.

  “Come with me,” I begged.

  Nat shook his head. “Too noisy if we both go,” he said. “It’s safer if you go alone.”

  I knew he was right.

  Besides, I told myself, it was pretty easy. The beasts behind the big rock had no idea I was coming. All I had to do was tag one of them.

  I felt a thrill of excitement. I could do it.

  And the game would be over. We’d be safe.

  I took a deep breath. “Ready or not, here I come,” I whispered.

  I crept toward the boulder. I glanced back. Nat poked his head from behind the cabbage and flashed me a thumbs-up sign.

  A few more steps and I’d be at the rock. I held my breath.

  The gray rock rose up in front of me.

  I reached out. My fingers were trembling with excitement.

  I leaped behind the rock.

  “Gotcha,” I cried. “You’re It!”

  “Huh?”

  My hand swiped empty air.

  They were gone!

  No beasts. Only a pile of broken gourds scattered over the ground.

  I blinked in surprise. And scrambled to the front of the rock.

  No beasts. They had moved on.

  “Nat!” I called. “Nat!”

  My brother came jogging to the boulder. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. They’re gone,” I told him. “Now what?”

  “Hey,” Nat snapped. “It’s not my fault.”

  I stared at him, feeling totally disappointed. And afraid.

  A sharp gust of wind kicked up. I glanced at the sky. Shades of pink streaked overhead. The sun was setting.

  My chest tightened in despair.

  “It’s hopeless,” I muttered.

  Nat shook his head. “Do you know what we need?” he asked.

  “No. What?” I replied.

  “We need another plan.”

  I had to laugh. Nat was such a jerk!

  He leaned against the boulder and wrinkled his nose. “What kind of rock is this anyway?” he asked.

  “A creepy one,” I answered.

  Nat peered at the huge rock. “Something’s growing on it,” he said.

  “Well, don’t touch anything,” I warned.

  But telling Nat not to do something only makes him want to do it more.

  Nat stuck his finger into a hole in the boulder.

  The big rock trembled.

&n
bsp; A crack appeared at its top and spread quickly.

  Nat pulled his finger away.

  “What’s happening?” I yelled.

  A cloud of gray smoke shot up from inside the boulder.

  KERPLOOM!

  Nat and I ducked, clapping our hands over our ears.

  The explosion roared like a million firecrackers going off at once.

  More gray smoke billowed out of the boulder.

  I could barely see Nat. I started to cough. My eyes burned.

  The smoke filled the clearing around us and drifted above the treetops. A few seconds later, it faded away.

  And I saw Fleg standing in the clearing.

  Spork appeared behind him, scratching at his open eye socket.

  Another beast followed. And then another. They stared at Nat and me.

  “You touched the Penalty Rock!” Fleg cried.

  Nat took a step closer to me. “Huh?”

  Fleg nodded to the beast with the smashed tail. “Get him, Gleeb,” Fleg growled.

  Gleeb’s snout tensed. His eyes bulged. He reached out for Nat’s arm.

  “Wait! Stop,” I yelled. “Nat didn’t know it was a penalty.”

  “No fair! No fair!” Nat cried.

  The beasts ignored us.

  Gleeb scooped Nat up and lifted him high in the air. “Let’s go,” Gleeb grunted.

  Gleeb balanced Nat on both paws. Then he pretended to drop him.

  Nat shrieked.

  Gleeb and the other beasts snorted their ugly laughter, clapping their hairy paws together.

  “Stop it!” I screamed. “Let him go!”

  “Yes, go,” the beasts echoed. They clapped their paws again. “Let’s go! Let’s go!” they chanted.

  I glared at Fleg. “Tell him to put my brother down.”

  “He touched the Penalty Rock,” Fleg explained. “He must have his penalty.”

  “But we didn’t know about it!” I protested. “We don’t know any of your dumb rules. That isn’t fair.”

  I tried to grab Nat’s dangling legs.

  “Let me see your hand,” Fleg demanded. He snatched at my arm and lifted my hand up to his eyes. He studied my palm.

  “Nubloff colors!” he exclaimed. He studied me. “That’s fifty points. You can’t trick me. You’ve played this game before. You already know the rules.”

  I stared at my hand. Yellow sap from the stick. Blue from the leaf of the umbrella plant. Orange from the rock. Nubloff colors?

  “But … but …” I stammered. “I didn’t get these colors on purpose. They just happened.”

  Fleg and Spork exchanged glances.

  “Come,” Fleg ordered, waving to Gleeb.

  Gleeb tossed Nat over his shoulder and followed Fleg to the woods. The others stomped after them.

  “Ginger!” Nat wailed as the beast carried him away.

  I ran after them, feeling totally helpless.

  “Stop! Where are you taking him?” I shrieked. “What are you going to do to him?”

  I chased after them. Down a wide path lined with more giant rocks.

  More penalty boulders?

  I stayed in the center of the path, afraid to touch them.

  The beasts stopped at the entrance to a tunnel. It was carved into the side of the largest rock I had seen. They ducked their heads and hurried inside.

  I followed behind, my heart pounding.

  “Ginger!” Nat’s cry echoed off the tunnel walls.

  The beasts growled and grunted, jabbering in excitement. Some pounded their paws on the ceiling as they moved.

  Everything shook. The walls. The ceiling. The ground.

  “Nat!” I cried. I couldn’t hear my own voice over the noise.

  I followed the beasts out of the tunnel and into another large clearing.

  “What’s that?” I gasped.

  In the center of the clearing, a large wooden box hung from a tree. It looked like an enormous bird house. I saw a tiny door on one side.

  A sign above the door read: PENALTY CAGE.

  Gleeb raised Nat high in the air. He held him up for all the beasts to see and spun him around and around.

  Nat screamed.

  Spork and the other beasts stomped and clapped.

  “NO!” I shouted. “You can’t do this!”

  “He must go in the box,” Fleg declared. “He touched the Penalty Rock. It’s in the rules.”

  Gleeb tossed Nat inside the Penalty Cage. He slammed the door. Fleg dropped a large twig into the rough wooden latch to lock the door.

  Nat reached through the slats. “Ginger,” he cried. “Get me out of here.” The penalty box swung in the air.

  “Don’t worry, Nat,” I called. “I’ll get you out.” I shivered. He seemed so small and helpless.

  “You can’t keep him in there forever,” I told Fleg. “When does he get out?”

  “When we eat him,” Fleg replied softly.

  “But I’m the Beast from the East!” I protested. “You said you would eat me.” I took a step closer to him.

  “Players in the Penalty Cage get eaten, too.” Fleg snorted in disgust. “Don’t pretend you forgot. Everyone knows that. It’s a basic rule.”

  “There must be another way to get him out,” I said, edging closer.

  “Only if he eats a Free Escape Tarantula,” Fleg explained. He scratched the flab under his chin.

  “Huh? He has to eat a tarantula?” I demanded, taking another step toward the beast.

  Fleg narrowed his eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know that,” he said, beginning to turn away.

  I hurled myself at Fleg’s hairy chest.

  I slapped him hard.

  “You’re It!” I screamed. I lifted both fists in triumph. “You’re It! I tagged you!”

  Fleg raised an eyebrow. “Sorry,” he said calmly. “I paused the game. It doesn’t count.”

  “No!” I shrieked. “You can’t! You can’t keep changing the rules!”

  “I didn’t. Rules are rules.” Fleg reached over me and checked the lock on Nat’s cage. It held fast.

  “Try again,” Spork grunted. “You can always try again.”

  The rest of the beasts nodded in agreement, grinning and snorting in excitement. They were enjoying themselves. They rumbled away from the clearing.

  “Ginger!” Nat cried. He pounded on the box. “Get me out of here!”

  I gazed at him in despair. No way could I reach him up there.

  He stared down at me through the slats. His brown hair fell into his eyes. “Do something,” he pleaded.

  “I’ll try again,” I said.

  It was the only thing to do.

  “Can you see them?” I called up to him. “Which way did they go?”

  Nat pointed. “I see a few beasts hiding over there.”

  “I’ll be back,” I promised. “After I tag one of them.”

  I tried to sound as if it was a sure thing. I wished I could believe my own words.

  “Hurry!” Nat called after me.

  A strong wind blew through the clearing, rocking the cage from side to side. Nat hunched down, hugging his knees.

  I gave him one last look and took off.

  Long shadows fell across the ground. I gazed at the sky. The orange was turning into deep pink. Almost sundown.

  I plunged into the darkening woods.

  All around me I could hear small animals skittering through the carpet of leaves on the forest floor. As if hurrying home before sunset.

  Home. Where they were safe.

  The wind howled loudly through the trees. I stumbled and almost fell over a rotted tree stump.

  The woods were closing in on me. Time was closing in on me.

  And then I saw a beast hiding behind an umbrella bush. His shoulders slumped forward. His head bobbed gently up and down.

  He was sound asleep.

  Here’s my chance, I thought.

  I moved slowly toward him. The beast shifted position.

  I stopped. Held
my breath.

  He quieted down again. He must have moved in his sleep.

  This is it, I thought. My chance. In a second, he’ll be the Beast from the East.

  I rushed forward.

  And gasped.

  The earth dropped away.

  Nothing under me.

  Nothing but air.

  I fell quickly. Sank straight down.

  Down … down … down …

  Screaming all the way.

  I hit solid ground.

  Hard.

  The air burst from my lungs.

  My shoulder jammed against a sharp rock.

  I cried out. Rubbed my arm.

  Struggling to catch my breath, I pulled myself up and stared around me.

  Too dark. I couldn’t see a thing.

  It’s over, I thought. The game is over.

  “Hey—is anyone up there?” I called. “Can anyone hear me?”

  I stopped and listened for an answer. Any answer.

  Silence.

  I forced myself to my feet. My shoulder ached. I rolled it back and forth a couple of times to keep it from getting stiff.

  I reached out and patted the walls around me. Solid dirt. I was in some sort of deep pit. The kind people dig to trap animals.

  Now I was the trapped animal.

  I ran my hands quickly over the walls. Maybe I could find something to hold onto. Some way to climb out.

  Yuck! What was that?

  My hand touched something cold sticking out of the side of the pit.

  I clenched my teeth and forced myself to touch it again. It stayed firm under my fingers. A root, I thought excitedly.

  It’s not alive.

  I ran my hand farther up the wall. The roots were everywhere. As high up as I could feel. Perfect!

  I raised my foot and stepped onto the lowest root. It held.

  Footholds! I could climb out of the pit.

  My hands grabbed the highest root I could reach. I pulled myself up. I heard a crumbling of loose dirt.

  I pressed myself against the wall as more dirt sifted down the side of the pit, spraying my face.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Waited for the dirt to stop falling. Then I found the next root and began climbing again.

  How much time did I have left? How much time before the sun went down?

  My shoulder ached. But I had a long way to go. I rested briefly against the wall. Then I continued climbing.