Tony J. Ortiz tonyjosephortiz@gmail.com

Copyright © 2006 by Tony J. Ortiz

Cover illustrations copyright © 2006 by Tony J. Ortiz

Library of Congress Control Number: Pending

ISBN 10: 978-1475107531

ISBN 13: 1475107536

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,

or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing

from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to

any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order Book 1, 2, or additional copies of this book:

www.tonyjortiz.com

TO ALL MY FANS

1

BACK DEEP UNDER IN THE DARK WATERS

2

SOME ANSWERS

3

THE MARK OF THE HOLLOWK

4

CHOSEN-S QUIL R.

5

REGURGITATION AMIDST A THOUSAND DATES OF FRIGHT

6

THIRD SECTOR S1

7

NEGATIVE NUMBERS

8

THE FORETOLD DEATH OF KATIE PUNDEFF

9

MORE HATE AND MORE LIES

10

CAT IN PRE-CALCULUS

11

THE WILTING PUMPKIN IN THE SEQUOIA

12

CRAPPER!

13

TOGETHER FOREVER

14

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR

15

HUGS HURT

16

THE EXPECTED NUMBER OF HALLOWEEN DEATHS

17

THE ENTERING ZONE

18

LIN’S SAFARI

19

THE FOUR DESCENDANTS

20

COSTO ROSE’S RETURN

21

THE HAUNT HOUSE

22

ABE KELVIN THE OZMAPEL

23

MAGICAL JESSE

24

THE HIKE UP AND DOWN MOUNT KILIMANJARO

25

THE AFRICA FESTIVAL

26

JESSE’S CURE

27

JACK O’GAMES

28

THE FIFTH DESCENDANT

29

A JUNGLE IN A CORRIDOR

30

OTTAGGA’S WAR

31

GLOBULAR MEMORIES

32

THE LAST TWO DEATHS

APPENDICES

HALLEN’S TCL CANS

1

CHAPTER ONE

The creature stood just inside the front gate, looking up to the sky, as

the glowing ball in its claws melted. It had black fingernails of a Goth

and the sleek skin of a porcelain doll. And on its right shoulder I could

make out arrow marks.

Sensing my presence in the outside entryway, the creature slowly

turned its head towards me and made a soft gurgling sound, like a cat

purring. But my attention was drawn to its two wet webbed feet. It was

the halloween that had saved my life hours ago.

The halloween planted one foot heavily on the damp grass, then the

other, moving forward slowly, deliberately, stooped to one side. It

walked right up to me and cocked its head to the side like a curious dog.

Somehow I could tell the halloween was a male. His lack of clothes

seemed natural.

My eyes burned with fury. Not to the halloween, but towards the man

inside my house at that moment. My mind was made up. I hurried past

the halloween ignoring him, and out of the front gate, about to dash

down the street when–

The halloween planted one foot heavily on the damp grass, then the

other, moving forward slowly, deliberately, stooped to one side. It

walked right up to me and gurgled from his beak.

What was happening? Had I just relived the previous moment? There

was no time to ponder this. I wanted to get as far away from my house as

I possibly could.

I hurried past the halloween and was almost out of the front gate when

I caught a whiff of a wet smell. I turned back to the house. The

halloween’s beak was inches from my face. The gurgling reverberated

through the moist air once again as he snatched my hand. He looked

down the dark street to his right, then to the left. His eyes never seemed

2

to focus on a single spot, appearing to move independently of his

purpose.

He touched a finger to his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, just then, figuring out the

meaning of the gesture. “Psyclin right? Is that what you want? You want

me to go somewhere with–”

I stopped. A faint creaking noise came from the entryway. The front

door was opening . . . everything was coming back . . . anger . . . hate . . .

who I was . . . what I was a son of . . . who I was a son of . . .

I snapped my eyes shut and squeezed the halloween’s soft hand,

hoping he would take me somewhere far away.

A cold breeze blew against my skin and soothed my anger. I smelled

salty air and heard waves crashing. When I opened my eyes, we were

trudging along a sandy beach. It was pitch black. Not a person in sight,

not a sound; no hint of civilization, just waves.

As the halloween approached the rippling waters, his flippers

lengthened, and the pointy tips of his claws disappeared. When he waded

in far enough, he dove in, emerging quite quickly. He raised his beak

sternly and let loose with a trill.

I hadn’t gone in yet, standing at the point where the waves receded. I

now knew what this thing wanted: it wanted me to follow him. I wasn’t

so sure if I should follow him, but he was taking me away from what I

hated, and that was the most important thing. I was never going to return.

I was going to leave Jacoby like he had once left me.

The long round ears straightened, and I was inexplicably nudged

forward. I looked back at the beach. “I’m never coming back,” I

muttered angrily. “Never!”

And then I entered the cold water, using both my hands to push my

way through the waves until I was in deep enough to swim. My body

was numb and purple by the time I got past the waves. My lips shivered

uncontrollably, but I pressed on.

The halloween surfaced by my side and gurgled. I felt the same

unaccountable nudge as before, but this time it directed me underwater.

Just as I was being pulled under, I ravenously filled my lungs with air,

pulling my head back to suck in as much as I could.

The halloween pulled me down and away from the shore, descending a

few miles within seconds. I felt as if my left arm had been dislocated.

3

Suddenly the halloween stopped to grab my mouth, injecting me with a

new supply of oxygen, and then placed my hand onto his rubbery ankle. I

grabbed on, and he fluttered his other leg and jetted off like a skittish

fish. His amphibian shape speeded along with great agility. I lost my grip

and slipped off a few times, and he stopped every time. But he never

swam to me. I always had to swim over to him. He would give me a new

supply of oxygen each time too, and then we would continue on our way.

We lingered near a school of fish, watching them for a bit, and then

started back up again, jetting through colonies of seaweed, patches of tall

grass, sunken volcanic craters, and under coral reefs, densely inhabited

by exotic fish. Because of our speedy progress, I only saw glimpses of

the sea life. But, whenever he slowed down, they were easy to see. The

last few stops I saw giant sea turtles, as big as me. They were

Leatherbacks, found all over the world, which meant I wouldn’t be able

to pinpoint where we were. But the turtles were mainly found nesting on

the coasts of West Africa and South America. I figured we were

somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean.

As I was staring after a family of turtles, the halloween pulled me up to

the surface so he could scan the sky. Massive storm clouds were coming

in. Lightning and thunder struck and illuminated a green island to our

right.

We treaded water for a few minutes and went under. His skin glowed

whitish-gray, which lit the insides of an underground water cave. A

family of glowing sea stars hugged the walls and the roof, while the side

corners were dotted with tiny octopi, which were in turn nibbled on by

the most minuscule fish I had ever seen.

Hours had passed, and the halloween continued to rejuvenate me with

oxygen from time to time. Exhausted, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I was in a water valley between two sinuous

mountains of stone. I was no longer gripping the halloween’s ankle. His

ankle’s skin was wrapped around my hand.

I began to feel the pressure from all the water mass above me. My eyes

were bleary. I was growing faint. My legs felt raw and achy, and I was as

wrinkly as a prune. I didn’t think I could last much longer.

The halloween turned back to me and filled my lungs again. As I drew

in a new dose of oxygen, a great white shark coursed by. The halloween

jerked his leg, and I was flung downward, just barely missing hundreds

4

of razor sharp teeth. That very instant the shark was magically lanced in

two. And when another shark ventured towards me, it was likewise split

in two on the spot.

The halloween gurgled at me. I waited, knowing he wanted to tell me

something. He closed his eyes, and then reopened them.

I closed mine.

The vibrations from his gurgling brushed my face. I opened my eyes.

The halloween was gliding over troughs and crests of the ocean floor

towards a rock wall that disappeared into the darkness above. The

halloween stopped at the rock and waited for me to catch up. The second

I reached him, the wall split itself and formed deep crevices, which then

turned into letters.

<the Mariana Trench is one of the deepest in the earth’s

crust> <I can take you to the depths of 35000 feet

The halloween turned away from the forming words, and beams of

light shot out of his eyes like car headlights, converging on a small sea

earthworm gliding through the water. The glowing eyes stayed on the

worm until it was out of sight. He then turned back to the wall.

but from that point you will need to swim on your own>

<my skin will not take hold of you in such high water

pressure> <summon the hydrobe to handle it>

I shook my head. I couldn’t summon the hydrobe. I didn’t even know

what it was. Or maybe I could and just didn’t know how.

The halloween raised his arm and pointed a sinewy finger at the wall.

<you cannot summon the hydrobe?>

I shook my head.

The halloween drifted along the wall to a pristine spot on the rock.

Awkwardly, like a man walking on the moon, I hopped along after him,

anxious to stay within the radius of the steady light his body emitted.

5

<stay near me> <a bubble will pop on you> <it will give

you unlimited oxygen and free you of the water pressure

for one mile> <we will swim through a hidden trench, not

yet discovered by humans or halloweens> <you will never be

found> <do you understand?>

I nodded.

Did he think he was kidnapping me? Well, I really didn’t care. I looked

back at the wall, now riddled with writing, while the halloween swam on.

After reading it once more, I pushed my arms in front of me in a

breaststroke and swam after the creature, quickly re-entering the sphere

of the light, as he snaked slowly to the opposite wall. Some of the

seabed’s crests were higher than others, and I had to literally climb over

them. Finally, I scaled down the last large crest, arriving at a wall.

<I will risk psyclining> <if a belk sealope locks onto my

psyclining, you will need to signal to me> <I will take

care of it before it enters your digestive tract> <I

cannot help you if it reaches your lungs> <do not struggle

or you will become forever paralyzed>

There was a pause. I wasn’t worried about this belk sealope. Whatever

happened, it was meant to be. Nothing could make my life any worse

than it already was.

<I want you to ossoy>

A what? What was an ossoy? I stared blankly as he placed his hand on

my face to replenish my oxygen.

<if you cannot, then blink once> <to respect your

superior> <you got that?>

I wasn’t about to comply and blink for this beak-face. What was his

problem? Who did he think he was? He could go blink or ossoy himself.

I blinked four times, nodded, and then fluttered my eyes, just to overdo

6

it.

The halloween gurgled.

I blinked.

The halloween blinked.

I blinked again, satisfied to see that he was getting a little annoyed with

my mockery. But why did he just blink at me if he was my superior? I

tried to speak, but choked on water.

<I command you to close your eyes> <not as a salute, but

so we can psyclin> <if you treat me with immaturity, I

will unleash a Binlisac of full degree on you>

I knew what that was and closed my eyes.

He brought me to a dark asylum with black walls and stringy algae that

grew from ceiling to floor. Through the wavering algae, I saw a glow

coming from the side wall. I pushed my way through the algae to get a

little closer to the writing.

<you are now at the deepest trench on the ocean floor>

<follow me to reach the final descent to 11 miles under>

He supplied me with air before diving down into a tubular shaft, which

turned, twisted and spiraled up, down, and to the sides, looping in every

direction. It was like being inside a drainpipe or a body of a snake,

except that the insides were plywood. The water was congested with

thick rock sediment and debris from the eroding wood. The halloween’s

eyes dimmed to their normal state as hundreds of red eyes lit our path.

The bats had regular small noses, floppy ears, and a thick coat of hair. A

couple slid off and glided through the water to reattach to another

wooden beam. One sailed down and landed on my shoulder.

The glassy halloween gurgled at the bat. It was quite frightening. The

scared bat flew to its family just over our heads and then disappeared.

Finally, we were out of the water; the shaft had led us to a rock pool,

which was surrounded by huge waterfalls, some high above us. Just

beyond, rows of pine trees and wild flowers edged a pond, crowded with

hairless bears with red streaks trailing down the sides of their faces. One

7

of the bears opened its jaws and sucked in a fish from the other side of

the pond.

The air smelled like freedom. It had an ocean scent with a hint of citrus

to it. As I scanned the mystical paradise, the halloween made his way

through the calm pool that filtered through a rock drain off to my right.

“What . . . what are those?” I stammered, still chilled to the bone and

dazed from the water droplets striking my head from a waterfall above.

However, I was thawing off very quickly as the halloween was radiating

strong heat.

“What are those?” I repeated, feeling better. I stood my ground,

waiting. If he wasn’t going to answer, then I wasn’t going to follow him.

I didn’t give him that much more time and trudged away across a stream

of water splashing with giant black crocodiles, at least thirty feet long. I

paused halfway across the rock bridge, overlooking the reptiles, before

moving on. As I reached a stretch of wet soil, my body unaccountably

came to a halt at a wall. The halloween approached me and let out the

same eerie unsettling gurgle as before.

<I will not tolerate disobedience> <is that clear, Jesse

J. Jayden?>

How did he know my name? And why did he give me a middle initial?

I didn’t have a middle name. I always wanted one, but Oz hadn’t given

me one.

The halloween gurgled, frustrated, and I blinked twice. He drew me

away, and, as we walked along the wall, writing was carved in.

<do you know what your middle initial stands for?>

I shook my head, and then blinked. What was he talking about? I didn’t

have a . . .

“I don’t have a middle name,” I said.

His eyes locked on something as we continued walking through some

wild flowers.

“My mom never—” I stopped. Did he know who I was? What I was?

But what if he didn’t? He knew my name and where I lived, but maybe

he didn’t know that I was a halloween.

I searched his unmoving pupils. It was too hard to tell.

8

“So what is my middle name? My human mom never gave me one.”

Wait . . . a human wouldn’t say something like “human mom”. I was a

dead man . . . no, a dead halloween.

I waited for his reaction, wishing Katie was here – oh, no, Katie . . .

The wall we walked along trembled.

<you need a middle name>

Not really. But if that was what he wanted, why not.

My shoulders sank in a sudden onset of depression. I had left Katie.

What was wrong with me! But I couldn’t be with her anymore.

Halloween relationships weren’t allowed, and human and halloween

relationships were just as bad . . . I think.

I hated life. I hated everyone. I hated Jacoby! Why did he do this to

me?

I heard pebbles clattering down the wall. I slowly looked up.

<what is troubling you?>

“I’m not going to tell you anything!” I barked. “Go on, curse me with

the Binlisac! I don’t care, you blinking mute!”

I stomped away and started climbing up a muddy hill, put together with

dirt blocks. The top of the first step was a good three feet above my head.

I searched around and spotted a root. I tugged it and then pulled myself

up, stabbing my numb toes into the dirt. Just as I gripped the ledge, the

step caved in, and I tumbled all the way down to the bottom. I tried again

and again, but still I got no further than the first step.

“Crapper, you’re stupid!” I scowled at the hill. And yet I scrambled

back up to the step. This time, when I got to it, there was writing.

<you have anger in you, Jesse Jacoby Jayden> <of such

high degree as is not found in a human or halloween>

I froze in fear. “How? . . . How?” I mumbled aghast. He knew who I

was, after all. But how? I couldn’t think. My heart was racing. “Why did

you give me that name?” I said.

9

CHAPTER TWO

My skin suddenly felt as if it was being consumed by invisible lava.

What was happening to me? Was I on fire? I couldn’t see anything. Yet I

felt it intensely. I really felt it. My scalp was as if charred and in flames.

I screamed. The pain flowed down my body and into my legs. I couldn’t

bear it and collapsed in violent spasms, swaying on all fours. Tears

streamed down my face, searing my skin, as if someone was pressing

two knives against my cheeks. Why wasn’t this stopping?

My body continually and uncontrollably slammed itself against a

boulder. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t see clearly or utter a word.

I was going to black out.

My arm continued to strike the large rock, reddening and feeling

shattered. Was my body disintegrating? Was I dying? But then – it was

gone as abruptly as it came on: the invisible lava, the pain, my broken

bones, and the uncontrollable shaking. Only the faint tremor in my hands

remained.

I opened my crusted eyes; the halloween was standing over me,

gurgling. He walked around the boulder. I scrambled to my feet and

followed him, flaking off the pebbles that stuck to my arms and neck.

I went to stand beside the halloween. He was facing the rock.

<that was a mere 1 percent Binlisac> <you do not storm

away from me> <and with one more outbreak of thunder from

you I will give you the entire Jiscal’s magic and kill your

filthy little parents>

I stood speechless and wide-eyed. The more I resisted, the more my

body shook, although it wasn’t from pain, but fear. He had no right. Why

would he threaten the lives of my family? It was me who did wrong.

The eyes of the halloween were neither on me nor the rock, resting

10

instead on an insignificant branch hanging off to the side.

I waited, hoping . . .

<I will happily give the order to kill your family at the

next sunset> <you obey me and give me the proper respect>

<do you understand?>

I quickly nodded. “Yes,” I muttered sadly, about to cry, and blinked

once.

I used the sleeve of my damp white pirate dress shirt to wipe off some

of the crud and the tears that coursed down my cheeks.

<you are now my captive and I will release you when I

feel I have retrieved everything I wanted from you, human-

hallow> <when you feel the need to ask a question, you may

do so after blinking twice>

He stared out into space. A silent moment passed, and a breeze awoke

the land. Trees swayed, the water rippled in the pools, and the waterfalls

were blown down in different directions.

The halloween placed a hand on my stomach, and all the mud and

flakes of dirt crusting me fell off at once.

I blinked twice. The halloween’s ears shivered, and then straightened.

He bowed his long beak. I interpreted that it was okay to speak.

“Please, please,” I muttered, “don’t kill them. Don’t kill Oz.”

I immediately blinked once and turned to the wall.

<close>

I closed my eyes.

A strong, dusty stench shot up my nose. I was in an Egyptian-style

room. It was square, comprised of huge brown and black stones, which

looked like they weighed a ton. The dark stones fit snugly together. Not a

toothpick could be inserted in between the large blocks.

Light shone on the tip of the halloween’s second finger in the middle

of the room, as he dipped it into a tiny cauldron, containing black water.

11

The water evaporated, and fire erupted, casting long shadows onto the

stone walls. In the middle of each stone there was an effaced image of a

jack-o’-lantern. Each abrasion betrayed hate and anger. I leaned in closer

to one of the vandalized images. I couldn’t even begin to make out an

image of a pumpkin.

The halloween sat down on a wooden chair directly in line with the fire

behind him, casting his shadow over me. Another chair was directly in

front of him, facing him. I walked around and sat down. I averted my

eyes as he raised his beak. But this time his eyes stared past me.

Below the flaming cauldron on the wall, sandstone began to crack and

break off bit by bit.

<I will not kill your parents> <I do not want you to

worry> <I have high standards> <I am a commander, not an

executioner> <you and your parents will be fine> <do you

have a question?>

The dust settled. He tilted his beak a little.

<you have many questions, am I right?> <you may ask me

what you want>

I hesitantly nodded, then blinked twice. He intoned with a soothing

gurgle.

“How do you know what I am?” I asked softly.

His beak lowered as the etchings in the stone behind him took shape.

<from a human> <when I escorted you and your friends out

of the North Sea hours ago, I detected an unidentified

quality in you> <it is something I have encountered only a

clawful of times in my lifetime> <there are two qualities

in you> <one I have sensed before and one I have not>

I blinked twice.

<you may speak> <and down here you will address me as

12

General-Ubolo Heloe C.>

“Yes, General-Ubolo Heloe C.,” I agreed, not thinking anything of his

strange name. “So that’s how you knew about me? Who’s this human?”

Writing etched behind him.

<I will tell you in 2 days> <Jesse, you are known as a

human-hallow> <the second descendant of a human and

halloween> <my suspicion of what you were was confirmed

when I saw Jacoby’s letter>

It took a great effort to utter my next words, but I did after sometime.

“General Heloe, you . . . don’t want to kill me?”

<no> <the halloweens above will if they find out> <and so

will anyone related to you>

I swallowed before asking my next question. “So . . . I’m not dead?”

<no, you were never dead> <you were born from the living

and the undecided> <the dead is not amongst us> <the dead

is a human or halloween who no longer exists> <do you

understand?>

“Yes.” I blinked twice. “General Heloe, why do halloweens hate a

child of a halloween?”

<a halloween fears the unknown, the way they fear

Ottagga> <they do not try and study the child> <scholars

believe a child would disrupt the balance of the Entering

Zone> <clearly, that is false> <you do know what the

Entering Zone is?>

“Kind of,” I said truthfully.

<it is the place where halloweens enter> <it is not right

13

to intervene with Halloween and kill a child of a

halloween> <but because of the ancient customs regarding

the child as a dangerous entity, halloweens kill them

immediately, unwilling to wait and see> <however false>

<the halloweens down here - all halloween-born - are no

different magically from their parents> <the first child

of a human and halloween, before being killed, was found

to actually have possessed less magic than her halloween

father>

I fidgeted in the chair. The room was smoking hot. Huge sweat beads

began to pour down my face. I wiped my brow as the room got colder. A

nice cold breeze drifted inside the enclosed room, which had no doors,

windows or cracks. It was as though air-conditioning had been turned on

full-blast.

“Thanks, General Heloe,” I expressed with gratitude.

Heloe bowed his beak.

“I have this mark . . .” I said, lifting up my left brown pant leg, still

torn and caked with crud, revealing the large mark in the shape of a

curved hand. “It fully developed into this just hours ago.”

Heloe didn’t look at my leg, but kept his eyes fixed on the feet of my

chair.

<as mysterious as the other half of you>

I had no further questions regarding the mark. I bet it was just a

hereditary birthmark. But I had hundreds of questions. It appeared that

Heloe knew a lot. I felt so full of energy, knowing that I was finally

going to get answers to questions that had preoccupied me my entire life.

But my eyes landed on one of the scratched-out images of a jack-o’-

lantern.

“Where are we?” I asked as I just figured out something when Heloe

turned his beak while his eyes didn’t lock on anything.

<we are below a small trench in the Canadian Island

breakage> <just north of Canada> <the deepest part in the

14

ocean and the fourth and last sanctuary built by the first

halloween> <ask your next question>

Before I could ask my next question, one concerning his eyes,

something else needed to be explained. “General, who was the first

halloween?”

Heloe shifted his body so I could fully see the writing behind him that

had reached the ground.

<the halloween was the son of Samhain and the creator of

the world of Halloween> <he was believed to be Heaven and

Hell>

“Heaven and Hell?” I muttered, confused.

<God and Satan> <there is a human-originated group, known

as the Promulgated Samhain Fellowship, which believes God

and Satan were born of Samhain, an ordinary human> <this

religious group is also known as the disciples of Dominus,

the disciples of Heaven and Hell>

I sat back for a second to let this sink in, then sat tall, tired of

slouching, and asked the question I initially had. “General, can you see?”

I asked softly, trying not to sound inconsiderate.

He lowered his beak, and his eyes remained expressionless staring at

nothing in particular.

<I am blind> <I am also mute, devoid of vocal utterance

of words> <my way of communicating is through writing,

gurgling and an entirely different tongue>

It must have been hard on him. All this time he guided me and kept me

safe, I hadn’t thought anything of it.

I blinked twice, before asking, “Were you born without sight?” It just

occurred to me: why was I blinking if he couldn’t see? How could he

know I was blinking?

15

<no, I was not born without sight> <my old age has cursed

me> <I do gain my vision back every two years for a day>

“Is today that day you can see?” I asked.

<no> <I can feel your bodily motions> <are those all your

questions, Jesse?>

I thought about all the places we had traveled through to get here and

what I had gone through in the past few years. Surprisingly, nothing

came up, but I did have two last questions.

“What now? Why did you bring me here?” I looked behind him. The

wall was silent. I looked back at Heloe just as he stood up and I heard

pebbles hit the floor.

<you will accompany me out to the fields> <You will not

call me General or General Heloe> <you will address me by

my full rank name, General-Ubolo Heloe C.>

I lifted myself from the chair.

<can you psyclin?>

“I never tried,” I said.

<then, for now, I will transport you>

I had actually one last question that just popped up. I inspected my

dried pirate clothes and my scrawny body, which was looking lankier

than ever. But I was growing a little muscle tone on my arms. I couldn’t

help myself and smiled.

I flexed my right biceps and dabbed it with a finger. Nice.

I turned to Heloe, who was waiting in front of me, his eyes drawn

somewhere to the side.

“What halloween race am I?” I asked.

Heloe stepped aside to allow me to see the writing on a different wall.

16

<whatever you want to call yourself> <no halloween has

given it a name yet> <Jacoby is a hakin and Oz is a human>

<combine them to your liking> <or not>

I smiled, trying to come up with something. Maybe hakman? No. Or

haka-humhum. No way. But what was a hakin?

“What’s a hakin?” I asked.

<it is defined as a life that is neither halloween nor

human, however, it could be both>

“He could be a halloween who second-entered through Dor–” I

stopped myself. It was best I didn’t bring up Dorian.

It was silent for a while. I thought about a name for myself some more.

It was actually kind of challenging.

Heloe gurgled in a strict manner and closed his eyes, preparing to

psyclin.

17

CHAPTER THREE

We psyclined into the middle of a black stone causeway, very long and

dark. Lining both sides were archaic homes made of the same stone

blocks that we had been in earlier. The homes were plain and

indistinguishable; each had a tiny window without a windowpane and a

large wooden door, with a rustic lantern to the side and a single shelf for

housing a glowing pumpkin. The town would have been shrouded in

darkness if not for the hundreds of luminous spots shining over us from

the shadowed rock ceiling a thousand feet above our heads, glistening

like orange and white crystals.

As we walked on, a few eyes poked out of their windows giving out a

steady orange glow. There was no noise, no wind in the air. Everything

was perfectly still and soundless.

Heloe turned right into an abandoned alleyway swarming with white

and black rats the size of my feet. I hadn’t noticed until now, but my feet

were filthy. Dirt and mud ate into every crevice and blackened my

toenails.

The alley led out to an open field of pumpkins and turnips. There was a

new set of homes built back to back with the ones from the other street.

Heloe and I stopped to watch a tall halloween exit her home and enter the

one next door. She never turned or lifted her head. It was too quick to get

a good look at her. She wasn’t a skeletis because she had most of her

flesh still intact and her finger phalanges were long and pointed.

A few young halloweens psyclined near a field of large turnips,

growing on intertwining stems. They gathered briefly, then disappeared.

They looked no older than eight. More halloweens appeared, and another

female halloween stepped outside. It was like she knew the exact time

they would psyclin, and raised her red hand. One of the kids was

forcefully turned completely around to face her.

“Son, don’t psyclin too far!” she announced quietly. “No Tortic Red

Soup if I catch you near Battlefield Hollowk!”

18

The kid gave her a lizard tongue and vanished, and the mother went

back inside.

When I looked back at the field, a handful of partially skinned female

skeletons were picking the giant vegetables. Our presence was sensed;

they stopped what they were doing as their eyes glowed orange at us.

The ones who were bent over, plucking the turnips, stood tall; and the

ones who had their back to us turned around to face us. All of them stood

absolutely still. Only after we moved on did they resume their work.

We didn’t make that many stops, and Heloe never slowed his stride.

Now he was making his way towards a huge black gate at the edge of the

town. The gate was as large as a football field, or bigger, because we

were still far from it.

The next causeway was quieter and less congested. The structures were

larger and cleaner. I slowed down as we passed the next three structures.

Sanctum 12: Magic & Tactics Building

Owner: Private Hollowk-U Teeve O.

Rank E

Sanctum 13: Uboian Mortuary

Owner: Private Hollowk-S Grawf H.

Rank E

Sanctum 14: Skeletasaltis Mortuary

Owner: Private Hollowk-S Seltom T.

Rank E

The names and ranks were just gibberish to me. I didn’t have the

slightest clue what any of it meant, but I was able to make an educated

guess. I knew skeletasaltis was the name for the skeletons in the village,

and there was a different race called the uboians. I knew Heloe was an

ubolo. So, there were three races down here.

I tried to blink my eyes twice to ask Heloe a question when we finally

reached the giant gate, but he didn’t seem to care. The tall iron gate was

a lot bigger than I thought. One-hundred-foot statues of skeletasaltis and

stone columns were built into it. The two statues on each side of the

19

gate’s entrance were two uboians that towered over two living uboians

standing guard. Their skin was as glassy and smooth as Heloe’s, but

unshaven, with long strands of leg hair. The biggest dissimilarity was

their ears, which were shorter.

The gates swung open, letting out distant explosions, cries and growls

from the other side of a grass hill that Heloe was presently trudging up.

The hill was littered with big bones and huge boulders. We reached the

summit in two minutes and looked far down at the large swathe of

grassland, framed by a thick forest, which echoed with sounds of a

tumultuous battle. The land was stained with blood. In the middle of the

field a large black bamboo towered above the ground at a slight slant.

Tied at the top of it, at eye level with where we were standing, was a

body. Its darkened hands and feet were tied. I couldn’t tell if it was real,

or if it was female or male.

There were five stone podiums overlooking the field. The one in front

of us was shaped like a skull with skeletis hands clamped down on the

sides.

“Is that real?” I asked, looking at the body tied to the bamboo.

I turned to look at Heloe, who was busy writing on the skull podium.

<no, she is fake>

“But why is she tied on the–” I then blinked my eyes twice,

remembering.

<I do not wish to tell you> <you do remember my name?>

“Yes . . . General Heloe – no. General-Uboloto Heloe C.?”

<General-Ubolo Heloe C.>

Oh. “Sorry,” I chuckled softly.

Before I could blink twice, more writing formed.

<this entire underground is known as a Secret Veil>

<there are four of them altogether> <the field below and

the forest bordering the field are known as Battlefield

20

Hollowk> <it is here that First Line Hollowk and Private

Hollowk train and perform difficult Jical’s magic> <a

Hollowk is a halloween who has been trained or is in the

process of being trained> <to the right is where they

begin their training> <the first two classes as a Private

Hollowk are H1 and H2, and it is where they begin to learn

what is necessary to become a First Line Hollowk, who are

trained in the tree grounds on the left>

Heloe stopped as a monstrous shake rolled through the ground. I had to

hold onto the podium to steady myself. Heloe waited for it to die down.

<the left side is where Private Hollowks are not so eager

to venture into>

There was a pause. The writing had to be erased off the stone podium

before more could appear.

I think all I picked up from what he had written last was that there were

two training sides: the right side being the training ground for the first-

time soldiers, called Private Hollowk, and the left side for the next level

of training, called First Line Hollowk.

Writing formed again.

<Private Hollowks in H1 or H2 that exceed standard

excellence gain a slash mark - for Hollowk Ranking, known

as a mark of a Hollowk, and will be given the opportunity

to become a Private Commander, an instructor of H1 and H2

students, but not until they have completed their duties

as a First Line Hollowk>

I blinked my eyes twice.

<yes?>

“Why is it called First Line Hollowk?” I asked.

21

<they will be the first line bordering Core K.P., a very

dangerous location> <Core K.P. is the field below> <that

is all I will say on the matter> <the red pine tree on

your left is a separation line>

I spotted the tree to our left. There were hundreds of trees lining the

outer limits of the field, all brown or black, except for this one red tree.

<the tree separates the uboian and the skeletasaltis

units who lately have been at odds with each other>

He stopped. He must have sensed I was overwhelmed. I think I had a

thousand questions crowding my head. I blinked twice, and he bowed. So

I asked away.

“What is all this training for?”

The old writing cleared, and new writing was etched in. An explosion

shook the forest on the left side – the place where the First Line

Hollowks trained.

<the Hollowk Ottagga War>

“You’re going to fight Jack? When?”

<there is a specific unknown time>

I was confused. “What does that mean?”

<a period in time that is to be after a chain of precise

events - the first of the events happening last night in

Northern Brazil, the entering of Ottagga into the human

world>

I blinked twice. “Why did he enter?” I asked.

<to give himself more time> <he is searching for

knowledge on the history of Halloween> <there is one item

22

of evidence that will steer him in the right direction>

<if we miss it, we will have wasted 114 years and 99,891

Hollowks> <the largest and strongest army ever built will

be of no use> <but we will be ready because we will know

before Ottagga finds it, because of the gravediggers>

<when they have predicted a massive death toll, we will

know that we must march against Ottagga the next

Halloween> <I will immediately deploy my Unit for war> <I

am expecting a huge loss> <no great war is without

casualties>

Now I was becoming angry. I swallowed and asked a follow-up. I

didn’t care to blink twice. “You mean when . . . Jacoby and Dorian know

how many graves they have to dig?”

<yes, they are the gravediggers> <anymore questions?>

I did have many others, but on a different subject. I wasn’t going to

talk about Jacoby. Anything, but that idiot. “You are an ubolo halloween,

no?” I said through gritted teeth.

There was a wait before he answered.

<yes, I am an ubolo, an ancient halloween> <the rest

residing here are a new race of halloweens, uboian and

skeletasaltis, which means a halloween whose blood tree

links back to an ancestor who was born from an ubolo and a

skeletis, a modern halloween>

The top part of the podium was smoothed over again. More writing

quickly began chiseling itself in.

<I am at the top of the lineage> <114 years ago, I

impregnated ten malicauht skeletis to start a new race>

“So every living thing here descends from you?” I asked.

23

<yes>

A huge question sprang into my head. It was probably one of the

biggest questions in Halloween. And I was going to be the one to bring it

to the halloweens above. Yes!

I blinked twice with an uncontrollable smile. Unable to wait for him to

bow his beak, I asked it. “How can a halloween live outside Halloween?

Like you.”

<you know the answer>

No. Did I? . . . Oh, wait a second. I did. I felt a little less enthusiastic,

even a bit stupid.

<how can Dorian live outside, you mean?> <that is

something neither I, nor Ottagga can answer>

“Then you entered like Jack did? By using Dorian?”

<yes> <I will explain> <your friend Dorian is known in

modern Halloween as one of the most dangerous halloweens,

magically> <as you know, Dorian was cursed at birth and

gifted with what we call Entonhal, a way of second entry,

the reason for the deaths of the three menalas> <we knew

Dorian was capable of Entonhal long before Ottagga knew>

<but what you do not know, or at least Dorian does not, is

that Dorian and Jacoby are the 6th and 7th oldest

halloweens in Halloween history> <they are 51,830 days

old, that is 142 years old> <their entry date was

Halloween Day 2305, or human year 1861> <evidently they

entered the same year> <I assume they may be brothers, the

first brothers to enter Halloween, which could be the

reason why Jacoby can counter Dorian’s curse>

I took a second to let the information sink in. All this time, none of

them knew who they were and exactly when they had entered. Dorian

24

was right: there had been something odd with their entry date. Wow!

Dorian and Jacoby were human brothers! Dorian was basically my uncle.

Heloe continued his magical etching.

<in human year 1888, Dorian fought against a clan of one

of the two strongest halloweens that continued to enter

Halloween after the Veil of Time> <the halloween is known

as an ozmapel> <in this brutal clashing, Dorian nearly

died> <but did manage to kill the last ozmapel> <the three

hour fight had drained Dorian and caused him to lose

consciousness for 20 hours> <I knew this was the only time

to enter the human world without attacking Dorian, which

was said to be impossible, proven wrong hours ago in

Brazil> <myself, my ten malicauht skeletis followers and a

warlock and sorskis in captivity decided this was the

time> <knowing how to use Dorian’s Entonhal, we immediately

got rid of all records of the First Entry, then entered>

A male skeletasaltis appeared in front of us seconds after Heloe told

me to wait. It felt good to know what kind of halloween he was. This

skeletasaltis was a Hollowk, too, because he had the mark of the

Hollowk – eight black double-ended arrows imprinted on the side of his

neck. The skeletasaltis was tall, almost the same height as Franky. His

black skin was the texture of chalk, and he had a mark on his forehead.

R P

Haunt Corporal-S Danjee K.

His eyes glowed orange, and Heloe bowed. The Haunt Corporal was

stained with red and black blood. His exposed left tibia was crushed and

twisted. The pain had contorted his face and warped his body, but he

stood tall.

The Haunt Corporal single-flashed his eyes green, and Heloe bowed

again.

“General-Ubolo Heloe C., have you completed tunnel-1 checkup?” He

had a low growling voice. He was hiding his fatigue well.

25

The Haunt Corporal and I looked over at the stone right when a beam

of light poked through the darkish-gray granite ceiling hundreds of feet

above our heads.

I turned back at the stone.

<Jesse and I are in the process of making the trip now>

<call up First Line Hollowk in two hours> <I cannot have

them falling to Level 4 and taking training hours from

Level 5 in Core K. P.> <that will be enough for today>

“Yes, I understand.” The Haunt Corporal briefly fixed me with his

gaze, then turned to look out onto the field, the one, if I remembered

correctly, called Core K.P. He flashed his eyes green once. Heloe

lowered his head. “Does he hold Jical’s magic?”

<not at the moment> <he cannot ossoy or snorbelk>

The Corporal turned to me and stared strangely before psyclining.

I blinked my eyes twice, and Heloe allowed me to ask my question. “Is

that ball of light above us the sun?” I said, while looking up. “General …

Ubolo Heloe C.,” I added at the end.

<yes> <I conjured a modern Jical’s magic that allows the

sun’s rays to penetrate water and layers of rock>

I had another question and asked it while I blinked twice. “What is

Jical’s magic?”

<in human year 91 BC an ozmapel going by the name of

Jical summoned magic unknown to his kind - magic not in

the ozmapel’s capabilities – and was the first one to

witness and record it> <when a halloween summons magic

outside of their race’s knowledge, it is called Jical’s

magic>

Heloe grabbed my hand and closed his eyes. At that moment, I spotted

26

hundreds of First Line Hollowks emerging out of the trees and forming

into long lines.

Heloe psyclined us into a dark tunnel lit by moldy jack-o’-lanterns,

which hung from the ceiling like chandeliers. Wooden beams held up the

dirt structure. Occasionally, the ground shook above us, and dirt

sprinkled on top of us. The rotting jack-o’-lanterns gave off a nasty

stench. As putrid black ooze poured with a quiet shriek down the sides of

the dirt walls, writing formed on one of the wide wooden beam just

ahead of us. I clamped my hands over my ears and hurried over.

<we are under Core K.P., where first war tactics will be

set forth> <the entrance of the tunnel was built four

miles from the core and ends underneath it, 100 feet

below> <this is where the sorskis and warlock practice>

<some tasks include months of waiting in a single spot,

which is needed to survive underneath Core K.P., waiting

for Jack’s arrival> <they were both taken immediately after

Jack had killed someone they deeply loved long ago> <one

of them will take the role as the one to summon the

Bellnicsi> <this will be the first line of attack> <you

know what a Bellnicsi is and how it is used?>

“Yes,” I answered, standing by Heloe. “It makes halloweens lose their

hearing. It can only be summoned by a halloween who really hates the

halloween he is summoning it on.”

<this is also where we will release Leonard Gibbly> <as

you know, he is a melflin prone to erratic character

morphing, one of whose personas will end Jack’s life>

“No, you can’t use Lin,” I said nervously. “He’s my friend.”

<you have a powerful friend>

I wasn’t sure how much of their plan was going to actually work. Jack

27

was something not to be messed with. I didn’t protest because I wanted

Jack dead. But Lin? He was an obnoxious melflin, a nuisance . . . but still

a friend.

After more trudging through mud and pebbles, the soles of my mud-

caked feet were starting to ache. I didn’t say anything, toughing it out. At

the end of the tunnel a skinny halloween, the size of a five year old, was

doubled over, trembling. His hairy green arms and legs were frosted with

ice, and his large flat nose was frozen purple. On his left palm there were

two double-ended arrows. His name and title was marked on a bald spot

on his forearm.

R X

Bellnicsi Jack-Sorskis Tee H.

His eyes glowed orange as he arduously rose to his feet and turned to

the wall.

<Tee, how long has it been?> <have you made your time?>

Tee’s trembling lips stopped for a second, then muttered something

right as he flashed his green eyes once. Heloe gurgled quietly.

Tee spoke with hot air shooting out of his mouth. “Gen-General-Ubolo

He-Heloe C., I-I been here for twelve months,” he trembled. “I . . . I have

twenty-two days and three hours left until my shift . . . ends.”

Heloe examined Tee and the hundreds of empty bottles, stacked boxes,

and one cage of half-eaten rats.

<I will call upon a Private Hollowk to supply you with

two more cages and four crates of Spidery Lemon Juice>

<you will get it by tomorrow> <when your shift is up,

inform Bellnicsi Jack-Warlock Evan T. that he needs to hit

two shifts back to back>

Tee blew a red cloud over his frozen claws and rubbed them together

as the ice melted. He nodded through a strong shiver and glowed his eyes

orange, which I had picked up as a gesture of saluting.

Heloe grabbed my hand, and we psyclined to what must have been a

28

place somewhere in the mass of trees on Battlefield Hollowk. A crying

shriek shot past us, cut off in a sinister manner. That very instant, a brief,

but powerful explosion went off next to us, knocking me off my feet.

Heloe remained standing by planting his retractable toe claws into the

soil.

“Private Hollowk, we don’t have time!” shouted a voice amidst the

forest. “End his life!”

Heloe gurgled, which I barely heard through the chaos, while he

entered a dense line of skinny trees. I hurried over and stood by his side,

peering to my right to get glimpses of the dark figures dashing in and out

of the trees.

We stopped at the edge of a scorched land, destroyed by a huge

explosion. Charcoal and ashes plastered everything. On the other side

was a curved boulder. Two uboians stood guard near a skeletasaltis, who

had impacted the giant rock. He was wedged inside at least a foot.

Suddenly, his body twitched and tears began to pour out of his eyes.

One of the uboians flashed his eyes green in order to ask a question.

Heloe gave him the go-ahead.

“General-Ubolo Heloe C., we have a Private Hollowk cursed twice

with a five percent Binlisac. We believe he purposely tried to summon a

Fobergoke on himself – to appear weak so he could be sent to medical

treatment. He has a record of struggling through First Line grounds at

Core K. P. He is now in need of medical – but, he won’t last long. Can I

have the permission to end his–”

Heloe pointed his beak at a tree bark.

<what is today’s Private Hollowk death count?>

“Four. Fifty wounded. Would you like me to kill the wounded?”

Heloe wrote nothing else and had the two uboians lead the way to the

four soldiers who were sprawled evenly inside a large pit, as though they

had been executed. A wounded uboian sat limply on a tree stump above,

shivering and gnashing his teeth, awaiting his fate. Behind the stump

were the rest of the wounded, all huddled together on the ground like

captives. They all looked young. Most of them only had one double-

ended arrow.

<are the remaining Hollowks in H1?>

29

“Yes,” said the same uboian who just spoke. “They won’t outlast H1.

We may want to consider an intermediate class or a return to S2.”

Hollowks came out of the dark shadows of the trees. Their eyes

instantly glowed orange.

<pull aside, Commander>

Heloe signaled me to stay while he drew the uboian to a secluded area

shrouded by bending trees. I shyly bowed my head before the wounded

Hollowks.

Please don’t kill them, I muttered silently in my head. Please don’t.

Heloe came back and gestured for me to close my eyes. When I opened

them, I was on a dark street. The block homes lined both sides of the

street, with a narrow ten-foot passage in between. The sun had not

penetrated the ceiling above, instead the moon shined through. It must

have been nighttime up above.

Heloe brought me to the door of a stone house and began to etch into

the wooden door.

<you will stay here with the Relson family for one day as

I clear up important issues with the First Line> <you may

not leave this structure by yourself> <you may not speak

of Ottagga outside> <recently, I have given this family

the right to gain knowledge of what we are up against>

<this family has given us a Lieutenant and two Chief

Warrants> <the father is a Captain, 4th in Rank> <I have

given word that if you disobey my orders and Ottagga

information leaks out, you will be psyclined to Cruel

Dungeon 102, where you will stay captive for two days>

<you are now Chosen-J> <you can change the J to a race

name of your liking>

Heloe magically knocked on the door and then psyclined away.

I waited outside the home, scrunching my body and rubbing my hands

together. I looked up and down the breezy street; I was the only one on

30

it. At the end of the block there was a rickety sign with a black crow and

a red bat perched up on it.

East Earelavon

I noticed something else. This house was the only one with a note

posted on the side of the door. I stepped closer to get a better look.

Unit hollowk

Rank - Title-Race Name

<Age>

<><><><><><><><><>

Rank Z - General-Ubolo Heloe C.

<1EnT2299-2EnT2332-present>

Rank Y - Halloween Lieutenant General-Goblin Rara I.

<1EnT2415-present>

Rank Y - Hollowk Lieutenant General-U Myapeck T.

<BoRn2397-present>

Rank X - Captain-S Oso R.

<BoRn2401-present>

The list of Hollowks continued past Captain-S Oso R. There was a

total of twenty-one positions. I skimmed to the part that explained each

position.

R Y - Halloween Lieutenant General-G Rara I. <updates General on current halloween events,

economy, and future halloween governments> <confides all Jack investigations to General>

<unaware of Unit Hollowk & Descendants due to probable contacts with Jack, halloweens and

humans> <secures & guards confidential information> <scouts & evaluates war terrain for better

usage> <identifies & adjusts any dysfunctions in selected ground stations for war operations>

I stopped to look at the giant wooden door that remained unopened.

The Hollowk world thickened. There was so much to learn. I could tell it

took a lot of time to create this plan. They even had a halloween above

31

working for them. And why would Heloe only let this family know the

details of the war? . . . I wanted to know more.

R X - Captain-S Oso R. <carries out General’s plans> <selects & prepares ready Chosens, who

have graduated from S1 & S2, to become Private Hollowks, medical crew, or unit positions>

<demonstrates proper rank addresses to lower rank> <divides birth-entries into Chosen-U-S &

Consolidated-U-S> <appoints candidates among qualified Private Hollowks to be part of the

Consolidated Officers>

Okay, that was the most confusing thing I had ever read. I read it again

because there was nothing else to do. I had no clue what a Consolidated-

U-S was. And what was a Chosen? I read on, in case these would be

defined later on, skimming a lot, to find the answer more quickly.

R D - Chosen-U-S <recently born with potential to become a future First Line Hollowk> <learns

Lower & Upper Division Halloween History> <passes Rose’s Descendants Test> <reaches

12.1212 S-MPR & 14.1414 S-HPR> <engages in audits of divisions H1 & H2> <learns proper

addresses of each rank>

Finally, I understood what a Chosen was. But the Chosen’s duties

remained cryptic. Rose’s Descendant Test? Who the heck was Rose? I

returned to the script.

R Y - Chief Katie Commander P-Pel Low P. <advises General or Lieutenant General on any

essential or nonessential news involving Descendant K.P.> <spots any life-threatening

developments and reports to General> <handles on-the-spot critical decisions regarding

Descendant’s safety> <thoroughly investigates any Descendant-related evidence> <unaware of

Unit Hollowk due to probable contacts with Jack, halloweens or humans>

R X - Bellnicsi Jack-Sorskis Tee H. <deploys Bellnicsi>

I hastily scanned the last two positions. It wasn’t because I already

knew their purpose, but because of what two initials were used in the

description of the Chief Katie’s responsibilities: K.P. I was deeply

32

confused. No, it couldn’t stand for Katie Pundeff. It simply couldn’t.

What did she have to do with any of this? It said she was a Descendant.

Whose descendant?

Seeing that I had one more section to read, I continued until the end.

<> WANTED FOR BREAKING HOLLOWK CONTRACT <>

R Y - Ex-Halloween Lieutenant General-T Lorseria L. <a high rank Hollowk, more powerful

than a typical tortic> <no longer in service> <fled without warning and is condemned to death>

<may be operating secretly with the head of the new halloween government>

At this point, I didn’t care to read about Lorseria or how he had once

been part of the plan. He could never be on my good side. My thoughts

came back to the initials, K.P. Could this be a coincidence? But they

used her first name—

My wait outside was up, the big door was inching open.

33

CHAPTER FOUR

A young skeletasaltis answered the door. His bones were partly

enfolded in lean muscle tone and brown skin. I could see the femur in his

left thigh, the ulna and radius in his forearms, and metacarpals and

notched phalanges in his hands and feet. He had one good eye; the other

one was an uncovered empty socket. He was my height, close to six-feet;

had long black hair, which clung to the bone on top of his skull, and

wore a short sleeve robe. He looked tired. He was scooping his hand

inside his gaping eye socket, cleaning out cobwebs and dirt.

“I was told . . .” I started meekly, stopping because his bones were

quivering involuntarily. The tremors were like ripples on the surface of a

pond.

“I was told–” I started again.

“What Rank?” he interrupted in a commanding voice.

I hadn’t been given a Rank. Maybe Heloe had forgotten to give me

one. Or maybe . . .

“I am Rank Chosen-J,” I said tentatively.

“Chosen-J . . . I don’t mean that,” said the kid, maintaining an erect

posture. “I suppose you don’t know. I am Rank D. Rank A is the lowest.

I don’t have any marks of the Hollowks because I haven’t yet been given

the chance. I don’t salute you unless you’re Rank E or higher. May I ask

you a question, Chosen-J?”

Appearing to remember something, he flashed his eye green.

“Uhmm . . . sure,” I said hesitantly.

“Chosen-J, what does the ‘J’ stand for?” he inquired as his forearm

bones quivered all the way down to his fingertips. “What race are you?”

“Uhmm . . .” I dallied, not sure what to come up with. I could change it

. . . “The ‘J’ is just a temporary thing. I’m Chosen-BW, a biffle warlock.”

I cringed as I said that.

The skeletasaltis flipped over my muddy forearm, seeming to be

peering through my skin. “Chosen, may I speak freely?”

34

“Sure . . .”

“You can address me as Chosen-S Kill R.”

“Kill?” I murmured, having never heard a name like that before.

However . . . I was talking to a halloween who was going to be trained

for killing.

“Spelled Q-u-i-l – it’s pronounced like the English word ‘kill.’ You’re

correct, Chosen. However, I don’t truly believe you’re a biffle warlock.

You can’t be. You’re a–”

“That’s because . . .” I trailed again, trying to think of something

better, and said the first thing that popped into my head, “I’m a melflin.”

Quil’s head tilted strangely, looking at me like I was ludicrous. He

flashed his eye green.

“You don’t need my permission to ask a question,” I stated. “And you

don’t have to salute me or give me proper respect.”

I half-laughed. Quil didn’t. He thought about what I had said, just for a

moment, and then widened his eye in excitement. His posture relaxed.

“Can I call you just Quil, Chosen-S Quil R.?” I asked.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“The General wanted me to stay here for a little–”

“You got to meet General-Ubolo Heloe C.?”

I nodded.

“He brought you to my place? Why?”

“He told me to stay with your family for a day.”

He lowered his skull and clenched his phalanges in excitement. I

laughed.

“How old are you, Quil?”

Quil grabbed my hand and pulled me inside, as the door shut by itself

and the door knob dissolved into the wood. The front room was damp

and dark with wooden pillars in the corners that were walled with the

same large square stones. There were two autumn-themed sofas and a

furry brown rug in the middle. East Earelavon was stitched into the rug.

There were no lamps or electrical outlets of any kind. Light came from

an assortment of things: the jack-o’-lanterns glowing from niches in the

walls, the flames in the mouth of a black cat statue sitting between the

two sofas, and two rustic glass lanterns framing the doorway that led

deeper into the house.

“Sorry. I just can’t be caught not saluting,” explained Quil, looking

strangely at the furry rug. “I don’t want to get sent to Cruel Dungeon 12

35

or to the creepier confinements above like in 74. Two were cursed to

death last night! . . . Oh, I’m seven.”

“Seven?” I muttered.

“Yes, seven. You’re fourteen. Y-you’re–” That was all he could

fumble out.

“You can go on,” I said, sensing his bewilderment.

He composed himself and said, “You’re her friend.”

“Whose friend?” I said, suddenly realizing. “You mean–”

“Descendant Katie Pundeff. That is so neato. I can’t believe you know

her. What does she do when you’re not hanging out?”

“Uh . . .”

“I recalled reading one time she calls you ‘ballerina’.”

Where in hell did he get that from?

“But you got very mad. You said you weren’t a ballerina. Jesse, don’t

you remember? It was the same day you and her had to train your small

pet.”

“You read this somewhere? Is there a book on us? . . . Who are we?” I

added quietly to myself.

“No, no book. I read a shredded transcript I had put back together. I

don’t know who wrote it.”

“Did you know of Katie before that?”

“Yeah. She is on every page of all our textbooks.”

“Every page?” I mumbled.

“Yeah. You can’t find one page without seeing her name there. You

did some bad things to . . . I was always scratching my head, trying to

understand why you didn’t take her away from her house. She gets beat

up by that monster named Sandy. Was she sandy or something? Katie

says phrases like that. Makes me laugh. I wish I was you and could be

her friend. I’d give her twenty running shoes. I cried really hard when

she opened your gifts and read your . . . maybe I shouldn’t tell you what

Becky let her read.”

“What? What do you mean? What did she let her read?”

“Nope. Sorry, ballerina.” He laughed at himself. “If you go back, can

you tell her something? That Hollowks are rooting for her and hate

Sandy. Sock her dead. Oh, oh, and then . . . you . . . kissed . . . her. It was

so great. I peed my robe. It wasn’t described that well – very short. Just

said, ‘Jesse put his lips on hers, something she wanted for so long.’ I was

so happy you did it.”

36

Quil was smiling and staring directly at my red face.

“You’re Katie’s friend,” he said under his breath, still amazed.

“So, everyone knows who I am? Because I know Katie?”

“Yes . . . and because you’re the son of Oz and Jacoby. That’s cool,

no?”

His candid choice of words at the end had caught me off-guard. Was

he trying to talk like Katie? I then responded with a short nod.

“You want to sit?” Two wooden chairs magically slid around the rug. I

followed Quil’s lead and sat down. “It’s what higher ranks do when they

have a serious talk. They preside in two chairs facing each other.”

“The textbooks never gave us a name of what you are,” he confided.

“They describe you as a scented hallow or a brood blood.”

“General Heloe told me I can choose a name for myself,” I said.

“Really? How about jacobjess? Or beakjacob?”

Quil laughed. I laughed with him.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something. I

really don’t care. Just call me Jesse.”

“You’re lucky, Jesse, I wish I was unique and could pick my own

name. So what can you do?”

“Magic? I don’t know. I haven’t tried anything yet.”

“You want to Jical? It’s a duel.” I froze. He went on, looking like he

had changed his mind. “Maybe later, I’m expecting mí papá, Captain-S

Oso R., anytime. Jesse, how many times have you seen Jacoby?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Why?” he said, confused. “You don’t like your papá? But he’s your

papá. He’s the one to look up to. Someone you want to become–”

“I never want to become like him,” I prompted. “And he isn’t my papá.

Papás don’t leave their kids fatherless.”

“When did he leave you?” said Quil, intrigued. A jack-o’-lantern

floated over to us, and Quil pulled it closer to shine more light on us.

“Quil, I really don’t want to talk about him.”

“Jesse, mí mamá, Mother-S Kay R., told me to let my thoughts come

out. Hold it all in – and you’ll kill someone or want to kill yourself. But I

read that you hung out with your papá. You’re so lucky.”

“Yeah, that’s before I knew he was my papá.”

“But don’t you want to learn from him? Papás know a lot. They can

teach you how to be a strong Hollowk. . . . But why are you so angry?

You must’ve seen him a lot in the past years. How many times?”

37

“How many times have I seen him?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t keep count.”

“I’ve seen mí papá two times. The first time I sneaked out and

psyclined near Battlefield Hollowk. He was commanding a fleet of

Private Hollowks. The second time he actually stood in my presence and

saluted me. I wrote it in my journal like you do – I wrote it twice.”

“So, you really never met him?” I asked quietly. “Never talked to

him?”

“Nope. Does Katie use ‘nope’?”

“Uh . . . not that much.”

“Oh. . . . Well, back to papás, I asked Private Hollowks – they’re old –

how many times they’ve seen theirs. Most of them say three or four

times. They said, because mí papá is a Captain, I would see him more

than any other Hollowks see theirs. Jacoby must love you – really love

you and want to make you powerful and a better person for him to spend

so much time with you.”

I heard myself saying “yes.” “So have you never actually spoken with

yours?” I said. He shook his head. “And you don’t hate him, not coming

to see you?”

Quil was in shock. “No. I love him. I know being Captain is stressful

and gives him no time to be with me. I want to be just like him some day.

I’ll graduate Chosen school S1 and S2, then H1 and H2 quicker than any

Private Hollowk in twenty years. Then I will excel in First Line Hollowk,

which I’m not afraid of. A Chosen-Uboian from Town Creepy said his

brother told him Private Hollowks die everyday. But I know he was just

trying to scare his brother.”

My anger had disappeared. I wasn’t feeling any hate for Jacoby

anymore. Now, I was feeling bad for Quil. He had it worse than I did.

And he was being given false information.

“Then what will you do when you have finished training in the

Battlefield Hollowk?” I asked, wanting him to continue because I knew

he wanted to explain it all to me.

“I’ll then be commissioned as a Private Commander. I won’t ever be

an S1 or S2 instructor, that’s stupid, or a Consolidated Commander, they

aren’t enlisted in Unit U-S. After two years, Heloe will make me the new

First Chief Warrant. First Chief Warrant-S Quil R. . . .” He smiled, and I

smiled with him, moved by his enthusiasm. “Then, I will apply for

38

Captain teaching. Mí papá will then be spending two days a week with

me for twenty hours. Twenty hours a day! Someday I will take his

position. I won’t try to go higher and become Lieutenant because mí

papá hasn’t. He probably doesn’t want to become one. I bet it’s hard. I

trust him.”

“That’s a big goal,” I said with a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that

happens exactly as you said.”

“Thanks, Jesse. Mí mamá says the same. But she doesn’t like me

preparing for this too quickly because–” he whispered the next part, “I’m

her last child. She doesn’t want me to leave for S1. Once I leave, I won’t

be seeing her that much.”

He stopped to take a sniff of the air. For some reason, I wanted to go

home. I wanted to see Oz and Katie. I wanted to give them a big hug and

never let go. I even wanted to see Jacoby. He was my dad. I didn’t think

I would ever feel that way.

A female voice came from the next room.

“Quil, what are you doing out there? Is there a visitor?”

“Yes!” Quil called out. “I’ll come in the kitchen in a pumpkin slice!”

“I thought you wanted to help!”

“I do! Just wait a second, Mother-S Kay R.!” He turned to me. “Sorry,

Jesse, she’s a pain in the–”

His mother’s voice cut him off. “Quil!”

“See, she is,” Quil whispered. “You showed up on a good day. I get to

learn how to make Repel Shield. Let’s go, I’m sure she’ll teach you,

too.”

The chairs magically slid across the floor to their original spots. One

rested near a wooden cabinet, and the second parked in the corner with

pumpkins and turnips.

Quil tapped my chest, almost knocking me over with his strength.

“How much magic do you hold?” he questioned me at the entrance to the

kitchen. “You don’t look like much.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know if I had more

magic than making a dog fall. What did I do to that dog anyway? Did I

paralyze its limbs? I was about to mention this, but instead silently

followed him into the kitchen.

The place was a mess. White powder was everywhere, on the

countertop, spilling from the cabinets, all over the stone floor and the

high ceiling, creating billowy clouds. The kitchen was narrow with all

39

counter space on one side, the other side cluttered with cauldrons,

kitchen appliances, brooms, pots, jars, boxes, and two wooden chairs,

with no tables and no place to sit. A long red shelf ran the full length of

the massive counter. It was piled high with jars of dead rats, live bugs,

green alligator skin, bear fur, and colorful stones. Directly across was

another shelf, filled with jars of fruit and vegetables.

Quil’s mother was a skeletasaltis and had even less bone showing than

Quil. She had long black hair like her son, but hers reached down to her

knees.

The mother went to a large black container and opened it. It was a

freezer full of red meat and rice. She pulled out a bag of rice, the door

magically shutting behind her while she walked back to the countertop,

topped with rotten pumpkins and turnips.

“It’s about time, Quil–” she said, stopping when she noticed me. “Oh,

who’s this young Hollowk . . . or . . .”

“Mother-S Kay R., he isn’t a Hollowk, he is–” Quil was interrupted.

Kay came close to me and stooped down. She was just shy of seven

feet tall. “Jesse J. Jayden?” she guessed. “I heard a lot about you. You’re

the friend of Katie Pundeff.”

“Mother-S Kay R.–” protested Quil.

“Son, don’t keep calling me that,” she informed him. “You aren’t a

Private yet.”

“Yes, mamá,” sighed Quil sadly. “I haven’t told you, but he’s the first

living child to be born of a human and halloween.”

“Second,” I corrected. “The first one was killed in . . .” I couldn’t recall

the date Heloe had said. “I think it was in day 2379.”

“The first living.” Quil corrected my correction. “The other was killed.

It didn’t get to live.”

“Quil, how do you know all this?” said Kay curiously.

“From the timeline that was dropped off at our door. It has everything.

Everything, mamá! Ottagga is really, really dangerous! No one has

defeated him–”

“I don’t want you reading that thing again,” she commanded. “I want it

brought to my room by sunrise.”

Quil snarled. “You should look at it,” he single-flashed his eye green.

“Quil, stop this at once,” scoffed Kay. “You are not a Private. If you

have a question, then ask it.”

Quil grumbled and asked his question. “Don’t you want to see some of

40

Halloween’s history?”

“No. Whoever dropped it by – it had better not have been your father.”

“It was from General-Ubolo Heloe C., mamá,” he moaned like a

human seven year old. “He wrote on the back instructing me to study it.”

“Yeah, to scare my little pumpkin!”

“It doesn’t scare me, mamá!” cried out Quil. “And I’m not little or a

pumpkin! I’m almost eight! I’m growing up!”

“Yes, but I don’t like what Heloe is doing here.” Quil cringed at the

abbreviation of Heloe’s name. “You may not know this, Quil, but I’ve

heard stories about this Jack and I don’t agree with the war one bit. I’m

planning to protest in a week–”

“Maaammááá!” cried Quil. “You can’t do that! I will be ostracized!”

“I’m not worried about that. I’ll keep you right here. I had five of my

ten Hollowks die in that Battlefield out there. I’m tired of these rules:

that every female must produce ten Hollowks, that we all have to go to

the monthly meetings. Everything I do, Quil, is madness. And your

father has told me the war is near. I’m not having you go. You’re not

leaving me.”

“Maaammááá! Please don’t do this to me! Ottagga won’t kill me! Jesse

has seen him! He survived a huge war involving tortics and yslas!”

Kay turned to me, her smoking glassy eyes reflecting the hovering

powdery clouds. “Jesse, is this true? Did you survive?”

“Uh . . .” What could I say? I didn’t want to scare them. Jack had

chosen not to kill us. “The timeline is wrong,” I lied. This was the best I

could do on the spot. “When I talked to Heloe, he said many of those

events are wrong. There wasn’t any tortics at all, or yslas. And Jack . . .”

I didn’t want to talk about him.

Pouting, Quil threw his arms forward. The far cauldrons shattered, then

were magically put back together, then shattered again. Quil just kept

breaking and fixing them.

“Quil, stop it!” ordered Kay, all the while mincing an onion with her

sharp phalanges. “I will let you go to their school tomorrow. No more

home teachings. S1, I think, will be fine to let you go to. I know first

sector isn’t difficult.”

Quil stopped. Kay stopped her mincing and put a powdery hand on my

cheek. “I’m sorry, Jesse,” she condoled.

“Me, too,” added Quil. “Mamá, are we going to finish?”

“Yes. You and Jesse can double-check all the ingredients.” She

41

magically sailed a piece of paper across the countertop to where we

stood. I looked over it with Quil.

Repel Shield

Ingredients for 2

<foul smell can reach up to 1 mile>

<can also remove dry skin and maintain healthy and natural tone>

lllxxxqxxxlllxxxuxxxlllxxxixxxlllxxxlxxxlll

Ingredients

pumpkin seeds

1 onion, minced

1/7½ pound of butter

6½½ pounds of 1 month old missal cheese

frozen arborio rice

fungus broccoli

2 mildewed yellow and green turnips

5 ten-pound molded pumpkins

“Yes, Endless Letters!” yipped Quil, not taking his one eye off of the

paper.

“Make sure you read all the ingredients and how to prepare it,”

informed Kay. “You’ll have to do most of it. So, don’t just skip to the

Endless Letters. Jesse, you can help if you want.”

I nodded. I turned back to the ingredients and a row of endless letters

that made no sense to me.

fjrugifkdlvobmfijdkfirokhljpqoiewirjsdncmvjdmnvnbmc

year in preparation

<grow pumpkin patch>

<grow turnip patch>

fjrugifkdlvobmfjdkmfyirokhljpqoiewirjdncmvjdmnvnbmc

day in preparation

<crush pumpkin seeds>

42

fjrugifkdlvofbmafjdkvfirokhljopqoirewirjidnctmvjdmnvnebmc

directions :follow precisely:

<shred onion and boil until liquefied>

<add butter and cheese>

<stir with a long stick for 20 days or Swirk it for 11 seconds>

<add rice, stir slowly: DO NOT SWIRK: the rice will absorb most of

the contents of the pumpkin seeds, butter and cheese>

<drain the liquid into a wooden bowl> <the bowl should be big

enough to only be half full when all the liquid filters in> <let set for 5

seconds>

fjrugifkdlvobomfjdkfirokhljspqoiewirjdncmvjdmnnvnbmc

Quil left the ingredients with me to finish when I was only halfway

done. I hurried and finished while Quil sat down on the floor to ponder

the line of letters. I couldn’t make any sense of it. I went back to the first

line of letters. It looked easy. Oh, wait . . . the first line had the letters q-

u-i-l. As I looked at the next line, Quil floated up to his feet.

“Really, mamá?” he said lovingly.

“What is it?” smiled Kay.

“‘Quil is my favorite son.’”

“You sure are.” Quil jumped into his mother’s arms and squeezed her.

“I’m sorry, mamá. I won’t contradict your words again.”

“I love you, Quil, with all my life. I would never let any harm come to

you. Jesse, have you figured it out?”

I felt embarrassed. A seven-year-old was smarter than me. “Just the

first line,” I mumbled.

“That’s good. You would’ve figured it out in a couple of minutes.

Alright, let’s boil the onions.”

We spent two hours preparing the Repel Shield. Kay told me it was

used as a type of body armor. I hated the first hour of the process;

because the potent smell was making me queasy and bringing back

horrible memories. I shed a tear a few times in that hour, which

perplexed me. Was it because of the memories or the onion shredding, I

wondered. Kay noticed the effect the stench had on me and cast an

olfactory charm, changing the god-awful smell to a nice flowery

43

fragrance. Thankful and relieved, I was finally able to take part in the

fun.

The Repel Shield was a lot harder to make than I thought. We had to

start over three times, because I froze our liquid contents for 18 seconds

and not 17 ½ seconds. Quil messed up once on the Swirking, where the

contents levitated into the air and mix at high speeds. Quil got really

good at it by his third try. They had me try, but I failed. I couldn’t even

cause the liquid to rise. They sympathetically patted me on the cheek,

which was strange at first, but after a while it became normal like a pat

on the back.

Now that we were done, we were to supply one hundred pounds of it to

the Hollowks. Whatever was leftover Kay slopped over our skin. It was

thick and sickening. Quil threw up ten times and still he kept on having

his mother continually spread more on him so that he would be prepared

to become a First Line Hollowk. When the olfactory charm wore off, I

threw up, even though it was the exact mimic of the rotten smell Jack

carried and I had grown used to it.

As we cleaned up the countertops and the inside of the icebox, Quil

and Kay played magic tricks on each other. They set venomous snakes

and spiders in each other’s bowls and countertop while they were

cleaning. While I was hand scrubbing a dish, which was surprising to

them, Quil scared me with a python. It wasn’t until my breath got

wheezy and my face turned purple that he figured I couldn’t summon a

Lo Mosk – a severe weight gain – or anything else to get rid of the snake.

Quil told me it was really okay to use magic here, even after I told him I

didn’t know how to summon anything.

When I finished hand-washing the pans, the process which Quil found

hilarious, he took me to his room because Kay wanted Quil to show me

the Address of Ranks so that I could properly address his father.

Quil’s room was bare with writing all over the walls and ceiling. His

stone bed in the corner, he said, would harden or soften to his comfort.

Amongst the etchings, one stood out like a bright star. It was the name I

hated and had seen on countless walls.

“Quil, you write that?” I pointed, not taking my eyes off of the

engraving.

JaCk

Quil nonchalantly turned my way. “No.”

44

“That’s Jack’s writing. He’s been here. He knows.”

“That was here before General . . . Heloe.” He looked to hate

simplifying Heloe’s name. “He might have–”

“No, Quil. He’s been here. You do understand the mark of his name

can only be here for a reason, don’t you?”

“No.”

“He is a harmful prankster.”

Quil stared at the name. “Why would he have written his name?”

“I don’t know.”

Quil and I put our heads together and came up with nothing. Was this

important? Or was there no message behind it?

“What if mí mamá wrote it, to scare me?” Quil ventured a guess.

“No.”

Quil gave up and rummaged through a stack of papers extracting one

particularly tattered piece. He unfolded it, skimmed through it, and then

looked up at the wall. Writing formed like it did with Heloe.

<THE ADDRESS OF THE EYES:> <single flash green: question double flash green: yes triple flash green: no glow green: important question single flash yellow: information double flash yellow: information regarding Descendant K. Pundeff. glow yellow: important information during embattlement single flash orange: salute higher Rank double flash orange: salute Lieutenant General & Captain glow orange: salute General single flash red: obey & follow higher Rank double flash red: find General glow red: Jack is dead single flash black: prepare for battle double flash black: end your life glow black: Jack's arrival>

I had trouble making out any of it. The text was too small. Quil

concluded that I would go blind faster than General Heloe and that it

could happen in the next two seconds if I didn’t take precautions.

45

CHAPTER FIVE

Quil had me lay on his rock bed, and it softened just the right amount.

It was the most comfortable bed I had ever been in. Once I settled on my

back, he swept his phalanges over my eyes, causing them to water. It

made my vision a little sharper, though I still couldn’t see the writing. He

said he would do this every single day to increase my vision. He added

that the best way to keep my eyesight from atrophying was to habitually

eat sixty carrots and green vegetables a week. A diet like that would kill

a man, I thought.

I got out of bed feeling slightly woozy and followed Quil over to a

wooden desk. He had found a blank spot on the wall behind the desk. He

said Kay didn’t like when he moved his furniture around, so we lay

beneath it and tilted our heads back so we could read it upside down. He

informed me while I read through the list of addresses that he would give

me the full list later; these were only the more significant parts.

<THE ADDRESS OF THE EYES>

<single flash green: question

double flash green: yes

triple flash green: no

glow green: important question

single flash yellow: information

double flash yellow: information regarding Descendant K. Pundeff.

glow yellow: important information during embattlement

single flash orange: salute higher Rank

double flash orange: salute Lieutenant General & Captain

glow orange: salute General

single flash red: obey or follow higher Rank

double flash red: find General

glow red: Jack is dead

single flash black: prepare for battle

double flash black: end your life

glow black: Jack's arrival>

46

It was too much for me to take in all at once. I couldn’t even flash or

glow my eyes. My eyes were plain brown. Quil corrected me and pointed

out that there was a tiny ring of orange; just like Jacoby and Dorian. He

said I had never noticed it because I was going blind.

“I can’t flash or glow them,” I told Quil, both of us still sprawled out

on our sides underneath the desk.

“You can’t?” He looked bewildered. “Can you change your eye

color?”

I shook my head. “Is it Jical’s magic?” I felt good starting to pick up

on some of the halloween and Hollowk vocabulary.

“No. But powerful halloweens can. If your papá is a hakin who

General Heloe thinks is a unique halloween, then you should be able to.

No one knows what a hakin possesses. Because Jacoby doesn’t go out on

Halloween that much, it’s hard for halloweens to know what magic he

holds. I think he’s strong, since he can look into your uncle’s eyes.”

Quil slid out from underneath the desk and waited for me to come out.

Uncle? It took me a moment to realize who he was referring to. Yes, my

uncle, I said happily to myself.

“Maybe if I try . . .” I suggested, rising to my feet. “How do you

summon your own magic – or Jical’s magic?”

Quil wasn’t paying attention distracted by something outside of the

window. “Come on, hurry!” he urged me in a hushed tone. He pulled me

to the front room and cracked the door open just enough to peek through

it. Large skeletasaltis lined the street. Blood and sweat poured down their

faces as their open wounds slowly closed by themselves.

“That’s the Private Hollowks,” informed Quil quietly. “See that one,

second line, third from the front?”

Quil inched the door open a little more. Large numbers of uboians,

ranging from teenagers to early twenties, stood in perfect lines. All were

as clear and reflective as Heloe, but had black hair on their arms and

legs.

The one that Quil was gawking at was a disheveled uboian at the front

of the line, who didn’t have any new cuts or dried blood on him. Instead,

he was plastered with grass and mud down to his beak. His left wrist had

the mark of the Hollowk; he had eight marks.

“That’s Private Hollowk-U Valan G. He is one of the best Private

Hollowks in the Unit,” Quil explained. “He’s only nineteen and has

47

already gotten a job working alongside Magic Command Sergeant-U

Goss A. and in S1 as the instructor’s assistant. My friend in Structure

E355 told me that he heard from his older brother who is a friend of

Valan’s that he got promoted to First Line Hollowk.”

I took a closer look at Valan and saw that he was no different from the

rest. He was, however, taller and skinnier than most.

Quil and I stood there in awe, watching them start to file down the

street.

“What are you two pumpkins doing?” Kay stood behind us. “Is that the

Privates?” She peeked out just as the lines filed down the street. “They’re

going back? It’s midnight. Quil, by the time you graduate from S2, I

hope they will have decreased the training hours. I can’t believe they’re

going back. Okay, pumpkins, now get to bed. You and Quil have a big

day ahead of you.”

Kay walked us to Quil’s room and supplied us with another rock bed.

She didn’t leave right away. First, she told us a bedtime story about the

nicest halloweens in the Veil of Time.

“These generous and loving earelavons spent their halloween lives as

saviors. They were gifted with more magic than a welchick or

wiskchickian, and they used it to save the lives of humans all over the

world. . . .”

She ended with a tale of a female earelavon, after Quil had already

fallen asleep.

“She snuck into a foreign castle and witnessed children being

executed,” she carried on, sitting cross-legged between Quil’s bed and

mine. “Standing guard was one of the darkest halloweens to ever exist,

called torticalists. He was making sure no halloween would intervene.

She was not an unintelligent halloween. She knew she would be killed if

she tried to stop the extermination. Without wracking her brains at

length, she summoned a Murs-Treeplex, creating a realistic fake

torticalist, and staged a magnificent fake battle between herself and the

forgery. The halloween was so confused by the defeat of his own kind

that he allowed her to save the children.”

My eyelids were droopy, but I wanted more. I was still upright in bed

hanging onto her every word.

“Good night, pumpkin,” whispered Kay, not sure if she was saying it to

me or Quil, who was out like a corpse.

Kay rose to her feet and sucked the flame inside a jack-o’-lantern into

48

her mouth, killing the light.

“Good night, Kay,” I yawned.

She placed a loving hand on Quil’s cheek, then psyclined out of the

room.

I fell asleep within minutes.

I woke up with a tumble. But before I could hit the ground, I was

levitated inches from the floor. Quil stood over me, dressed in a black

and orange striped robe, custom-fitted and tailored out of a bed blanket.

Embroidered in yellow on the sleeves was the traditional jack-o’-lantern

symbol.

Quil gently set my body down and single-flashed his eye red. I hurried

towards the desk, already forgetting what the gesture meant, and stuck

my head underneath.

<single flash red: obey & follow higher Rank>

As soon as I got up, a lengthy black-and-orange robe, old and faded

just like Quil’s, appeared on me. He found a clean spot on the wall and

doodled some words on it.

<we are going out the front door> <Kay has cursed the house

with a Psyclin Alarm>

I tiptoed to the door, and we easily slipped out into the night. The air

was cold and there was a slight breeze. Most of the lanterns that hung on

the doors were dimmed, casting faint shadows on the rock ceiling.

Quil psyclined us to the large structures, which housed the non-

magical halloweens, the so-called Consolidated halloweens. He pointed

at a distant pyramid-shaped structure where all the active First Line

Hollowks were stationed for sleep and classes. Quil explained to me that

it may seem like they were all asleep, but they were actually all awake, in

classes or training in Battlefield Hollowk.

After giving me a short tour of East and West Earelavon, he psyclined

us to a rotting turnip and pumpkin field.

“What are we doing here?” I muttered sleepily, rubbing the goop out of

my eyes. “What time is it? It feels like I didn’t sleep at all.”

49

“You didn’t,” he indicated. “You fell asleep two minutes ago.”

“What?”

Quil stared at me with his one eye, not looking like he was going to

respond.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Yeah, I am. But I must train.”

“So, you were pretending to be asleep? You were still listening to your

mom’s stories.”

Quil half-smiled, looking as groggy as I felt. “I must train,” he

repeated.

“Train for what?”

“Mí papá’s coming in two weeks. I have to prepare. I don’t want him

thinking I am a weak Chosen. Not many can perform a Murs-Treeplex –

it's a higher type of transformation magic. That would impress him. Not

many can. He’ll be proud and maybe even visit me more often. Let’s go

over here,” he said, sluggishly dragging his feet over to a giant pumpkin

tree, crawling with frightening curses, the kind I had once seen dwelling

in the Secret Veil underneath Jacoby’s house. At the foot of the bare tree

lay the smashed shapes of fallen pumpkins.

Quil noticed the dark figures, who were lost in a world of their own,

and immediately came to a halt. “Not this tree,” he muttered quietly,

slowly backing up, looking quite scared.

“I’ve seen those before—” I began telling him, as a threatening voice

soared past our feet.

I, the one of a dark soul, dying of your thirst, abiding your judgment to

enter my realm. I shall accord with Jaculus to eat his foe . . .

That was all we could hear before the voice flew too far away, snaking

its way through the tree on a hillside to our left.

“They curse the Secret Veils,” confided Quil. “The voices tag along.

They were here first. If they sense our presence in their thoughts, we’re

dead. An entire fleet of five hundred Private Hollowks were wiped out

ten years ago by that one.”

We kept our eyes on the deadly curse as it was climbing a wiggly

branch. There were three skulls glued to the side of its boned leg. Its

skull head pivoted in our direction, but never spotted us. Finally, it

disappeared into the head of the tree, but then came back out and crawled

back down to retrieve another skull. It lifted the skull in the air and

smashed a lone pumpkin to pieces, in a vicious and spastic way. It didn’t

50

stop until the fruit was completely destroyed.

“I see Jack,” I addressed to the curse, who was now moving through

the patch, stepping in and out of view in the sea of pumpkins and turnips,

and finally scaling another pumpkin tree. It knocked down a pumpkin

and replaced it with the skull it had brought up.

“Why do you say that?” Quil asked, alarmed.

“You tell them that, and they will leave you alone.”

Quil went over to the tree and spoke the words, so close to the

silhouetted curse, it lifted its mandible jawbone and exhaled a frightening

cold breath in retort. Quil leaped back.

“You think it found us in its thoughts?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” I said, watching carefully as it stabbed its three-clawed

hands into the tree trunk and climbed up.

“Let’s go . . .” Quil looked for another tree that wasn’t invaded by a

curse, “there’s a spot,” he pointed with his skull.

To the right of us, there was a humble red tree at the edge of an open

field.

“You can get caught up on some of the events that General Heloe

thinks are important. I’ll write them down.”

As we made our way over, he pulled out a piece of paper from the

inner pocket of his robe. He finished magically scribbling on the tree by

the time we reached it. The bark was stripped of its outside layers.

“Can all Hollowks write like this?” I asked while more words

appeared.

“It’s Jical’s magic,” he whispered because there was a slight echo from

my voice. An owl hooted and whispers trailed along with it. He waited

for them to stop. “General Heloe calls this Jical, etabpry.”

Before I could bring up a question about something that had been

haunting me, Quil walked across the open field of wet dirt and broken

timber with sparse patches of tall grass. He confidently called out “I see

Jack” at a curse roaming inside a heap of logs and then carried on. He

comfortably kneeled on one of the patches of grass and stilled his body,

as though he was meditating, and then put something into his mouth.

I took a seat below the marked tree and started to read.

HaLlOwEeN hIsToRy

Human Year 2002|Halloween Day 2446

(Quil: <you get it?> <subtract 444 to whatever Halloween Day it is to

51

get the Human Year> <it doesn’t work for BC> <General Heloe told me not

all the information is accurate, like you said, too>)

HY 666 BC <Jaculus is denied entry into hell and forced to continue

living with a candle and a hollowed-out turnip given to him by Satan>

HY 520 BC <an Irishman by the name Samhain Halloween is born in

Ireland>

HY 499 BC <the first stories of Jaculus roaming the land>

HY 498 BC <the first mention of a sub-Celtic group called Jassums>

HY 488 BC <S. Halloween calls his people for a day of celebration of

the dead and calls it Samhain>

HY 447 BC <an eleven-year-old Jassum predicts the creation of

Halloween>

HD 000 < an Irish farmer, believed to be the son of God and possessed

by Satan, is said to have created a new world> <twenty thousand

halloweens enter (30 races): ozmapels, melflins, lurkamoans, ugatobits,

binards, kualos’, frinones, yslasmaskian, earelavons, samhers, beltane

goblin-domgiums, wikitch welks, cascas’, torticalists, welgos, mersa-

hewkels, Jack Ottaggaemenel, Samhain, julagails, ubolos, (<I can’t

believe I’m a descendant of an ancient halloween>), melaski

melorpis’, and some unknown samhain races> <the start of the first

Jack War; Jack is challenged by J.S. Halloween>

HD 000 - HD 444 <Veil of Time: a foggy period of time when there is

no true evidence of halloween existence>

HD 77 <J.S. Halloween is defeated> <the duel was considered to have

been the biggest war against Jack>

HD 78 <at the bottom of an Irish hill, three unknown names, Megiwa

Morse San, Deranee Olmec, and MelaskiMel are written alongside the

biggest names of Halloween: J.S. Halloween, J. Ottaggaemenel, S.

Halloween, and C. Rose>

HD 458 <the first stories of a woman from Brazil making gifts for the

children willing to go outside of their cottages at night>

HD 494 <The Origin of the Samhain Festival, bond fires and games of

celebration, are recorded in Ireland and France>

HD 765 <a melflin kills a lurkamoan>

HD 767 <largest recorded Jack War: a clan of ozmapels and lurkamoans

take a minute stand against Jack>

HD 1444 <Jack’s Blackout - all halloweens are afflicted with partial

amnesia>

HD 1661 <the forming of the first democratic Samhain Government is

witnessed and signed by Richard Cow>

52

HD 1662 <Richard Cow is assassinated, and Samhain Government

crumbles>

HD 2000 <the last Descendant of the time is killed by Jack, but is

resurrected by four mysterious halloweens in an unknown meadow>

HD 2001 <Jack’s Blackout>

HD 2226 <the custom of Halloween is spread over the States by three

Irish immigrants>

HD 2228 <the Haunt House and the Four Festivals are founded> <the

first Jack O’Games>

HD 2305 <Dorian Kel and Jacoby enter> <Dorian is responsible for

twenty injuries and two human fatalities>

HD 2309 <Geojackologists still have no concrete evidence of Jack’s

existence>

HD 2332 <Dorian Kel survives a brutal attack by a clan of ancient

ozmapels> <the Entonhal is summoned>

HD 2334 <Jack’s Blackout>

HD 2343 <Dorian is attacked by 4 ugatobits>

HD 2363 <Jack’s Blackout>

HD 2364 <modern halloween races are counted (55): wiskchickian

witches, welchick witches, wilarchike witches, menala, hakin, sorskis,

minical werewolves, hellgon werewolves, jackal werewolves, melflins,

de-moan demons, melkian gargoyles, bebel gargoyles, kion gargoyles,

redian vampires, bluian vampires, blackian vampires, hewkels, tortics,

yslas, quebellion hews, sealons, lova gremlins, sorlidiansorbins,

welgos, swellons, hickstans, nabulkites, crowsks, skool skeletis, kitis

skeletis, malicauht skeletis, taz mepians, liosellions, teegal goblins,

murf goblins, bredock goblins, zuvadems, biffle warlocks, quelix

warlocks, mons mummies, fopen mummies, hanalin ghouls, hana ghouls,

sarscas, morcal sarscas, pel kelicals, weegals, mauks, recktails,

minalips, nomis, rethos, nekorb, rospins>

HD 2378 <a male halloween impregnates a female halloween> <both are

killed immediately>

HD 2379 <a male halloween impregnates a female human> <the child is

killed an hour after birth> <the halloween and the human are found

savagely killed in the Dark Hours>

HD 2382 <second menala enters: Dili Kel>

HD 2385 <third menala enters: Kala Kel>

HD 2394 <halloween scholars gain knowledge of Dorian Kel and Jacoby

living outside Halloween>

HD 2397 <a wiskchickian witch discovers melflins possess one magic

that Ranks high on S-MPR> <wiskchickians massacre every living melflin>

53

HD 2399 <a melflin named Leonard Gibbly enters>

HD 2426 <fourth menala enters: Meesi Kel>

HY 1988 <Descendant Katie Pundeff is born November 19>

HY 1989 <the death of Malena Pundeff> <Jesse Jayden is born May 25

and becomes first surviving child of a human and halloween>

I stopped. My hands were trembling. Why was Katie listed? Why did

all the Hollowks need to know about her?

I spun around and called for Quil. He didn’t answer, caught up in his

transcendental state. Suddenly, he irritably spat out a gob of red chunky

substance, then carefully placed it back into his mouth and forced it

down his throat. I continued reading on. I had to. There was only a tiny

bit left. As I did, my eyes stung and watered. But I read through it,

sensing this information was extremely important and needed to be

related to everyone back at home.

HD 2434 <a list of names is discovered on a stone outside Halloween’s

Secret Veil in Bounded Field, matching many of the names found

underneath the home of Jacoby and Becky Jayden>

HY 1992 <the death of Cindy Cragen - Descendant Count: 166>

HY 1994 <Descendant Frederick Pundeff purchases a plane ticket to

Ireland>

HD 2444 <the death of Ashley Cragen - Descendant Count:165> <Jack

murders the menala, Dili Kel>

HD 2445 <Jack appears in Morocco and kills nine tortics and 312

yslas> <Jesse, Katie, Dorian, Jacoby and Lorseria survive the Tortic’s

War> <Jack murders the menalas Kala and Meesi Kel> <Himalaya summons

the Bellnicsi in Los Angeles & Antarctica> <the death of Lucadia Samos

- Descendant Count:164>

HD 2446 <Jack tracks down Dorian and summons the Entonhal> <159

Descendants are slaughtered in Brazil - Descendant Count: 5>

HY 2002 <Jesse Jayden is taken by General-Ubolo Heloe C. (I don’t

know why)>

When I drew my weary eyes away from the bark, an abrupt headache

pierced the middle of my forehead. The list did little to answer any of my

questions, instead only filling me with new ones.

I looked up the tree, resting my eyes at the top of it for a second, then

reread the timeline, this time grasping the meaning of certain words and

events a little better. For instance, I became aware that in most cases

54

there was a Jack’s Blackout the day after a major event. And that

melflins were very important. They possessed the kind of magic that

petrified a wiskchickian witch. It wasn’t until my third go at it that I

realized that the Descendants were Dark Deaths; they were the same

thing. There had been far more than eleven Dark Deaths. Worst of all,

the Descendants were all being killed . . . and Katie was one of the

remaining Descendants.

My eyes watered again as I looked over my shoulder at the open field

of timber and patchy grass. Quil was nowhere to be found. I turned back

to the tree and read through the timeline one more time, feeling like I had

retained nothing.

“Take me home,” I cried out, pushing myself off the ground. “Quil!

Take me home! I want to go home right now!”

An owl’s hoot was all I got in return. I breathed heavily in and out of

my runny nose, trying to calm myself. I was tired, and my arms and legs

had fallen asleep.

“Quil! Where are–” I yelled, seeing him emerge from the hedge

bordering the field. “You said not all of this might be accurate, right?”

Quil nodded while he was still chewing. He let loose with a giant

cough and regurgitated an entire apple.

“Yes!” smiled Quil. “It’s about time. It’s morning, 05 hours. I can’t

believe I got it! He’s going to be so surprised!”

55

CHAPTER SIX

“Jesse, I’ll talk about Katie after my – our! – first day of class,” said

Quil, knowing why I was so emotional. “Everything will be okay. Don’t

cry. I cried, too, when I read it, but I’m okay now. You okay?”

“Tell Heloe I want to go home,” I grumbled.

“I think you should stay until he lets you go. Everything will be okay.

Do you want to say it? Everything will be–”

“No, I’m not okay.”

“Well, I need to practice some more. I have to get the Treeplex

perfectly right. If I summon it wrong, I’ll choke and need treatment. I’ll

embarrass mí papá. Is it okay if we talk after?”

“Okay,” I filtered through gritted teeth. I took a deep breath and rubbed

my eyes to get out whatever remaining tears.

Quil stuck the same whole apple in his mouth and moved his cheeks in

a circular motion. At first I didn’t see it, but, when I watched him more

carefully, I saw him vigorous chomping on the apple and breaking it into

soggy bits. Juice and tiny chunks slivered out of his pursed lips. He

slurped it in and muffled with his mouthful, “What I do to work on

transformation—” he sucked in more liquid that spilled out of his mouth,

“—is chew and swallow some sort of leaf, vegetable or fruit and

regurgitate it in its original state.”

Quil made a painful gulp, swallowing all the juicy and chunky contents

of the apple.

“This is extremely helpful because it forces you to not see what you’re

doing while transforming it. My friend Chosen-U Joloue H. is really

talented and can manipulate a whole house and turn it into a statue of

General Heloe. That’s a Murs-Treeplex. Joriylalsecotol is the highest

degree of Treeplex. It was summoned once by the woman from Brazil.

Have you heard of this magic?”

I shook my head despite the fact that I did remember reading the name

of the extreme magic at the Jack O’ Games two years ago.

56

“It’s been given a different name since its degree of strength is much

higher than a Murs-Treeplex. . . . Okay, just a second.”

Quil’s eye snapped shut, and a dark glow seeped through the edges of

his one eye. He kneeled and bowed his skull in deep concentration.

Minutes later, his mouth swelled up and he broke into a big toothy smile,

revealing a full apple behind his small flat teeth.

“Time for class,” he mumbled, shutting his one eye.

I held onto his hand and was spirited away, psyclining into a corridor

deep below a waste facility. Written on a pipe above was:

Pumpkin Drainage

Level -100 FT

We approached the iron door of the classroom. I wasn’t sure if I was

excited or nervous about going to Quil’s class. It reminded me of my first

day in middle school.

I stayed close to Quil as we walked down the winding pipework. The

ceiling was low – maybe ten feet above the ground – and covered in

mold. The pipes above us sloshed and banged.

Quil kept quiet, and so did I. I picked up my pace to keep up with his

brisk stride. It wasn’t so intimidating to stand beside him anymore. We

were a lot closer in height than I had thought at first. I must have been

reaching six-feet. Yes! Oz was tall for a woman, and Jacoby was six-two.

I had pretty good genes. I always wanted to be about six-two, from the

first time I saw Jacoby.

I raised my chest and squared my shoulders and hurried alongside

Quil, feeling like a new person . . . an older person.

“How are you feeling, Jesse? Does it hurt?” said Quil, staring strangely

into my eyes.

I hadn’t noticed, but he had conjured a storm cloud overhead. My arms

went limp, and my head drooped off to one side, propelling me sideways

into the wall. Something was crawling inside my foot; something with

sharp daggers.

“Yes! It hurts!–” I cried in extreme pain, on the floor.

The pain ceased at once.

Quil was leaning over me in surprise. “You didn’t control it. Mí mamá

says it’s an easy spell to counter. I thought you’d summon a viohelb or

etna-hydrobe. The etna-hydrobe could’ve detected the springervias

57

spider. . . . You know it dies in water, right?”

I shook my head in dismay. Why would he summon magic on me

without warning me?

“Next time, tell me,” I said.

“I will,” he assured me. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you if you

don’t know the counter. Or maybe you just don’t want to summon it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to summon it,” I snapped back. “I can’t,

Quil – or I don’t know how to–”

“Chosen-J Jesse J., you must address me as Chosen-S Quil R.,” he

ordered. “I’ve read if you don’t correctly address in S1, you’ll be

suspended for thirty days and you’ll have to go to night classes. Those

are for low level Chosens. I can’t be seen there. What if Captain-S Oso

R. stops for a visit?”

“Yes, Chosen-S Quil R.,” I said. “Quil, I don’t know how to use the

viohelb or etna-hydrobe. I haven’t even heard of a springervias. Why did

you do that to me?”

“I wanted to practice it on you before I did it on my first day. I was

sure you could counter it. You’re a descendant of a halloween. You’ve

got to be powerful. Come up with a name yet? How about hollow-boo-

week? No, that stinks. . . . Weeny-ho?”

“No way,” I smiled, thinking of a name myself, feeling a laugh coming

on. “How about booboo–” I laughed.

We settled down after we came up with a few more absurd names –

many of which didn’t make any sense whatsoever and had nothing to do

with halloweens or humans.

Then I recalled that Heloe had given me a temporary name. What was

it? Why was I having trouble remembering it? I have a photographic

memory. I never forget—

“Oh, I remember. What about human-hallow? It’s simple.”

“I like that. That’s good, Chosen-H Jesse J. Let’s go inside.”

The iron door was positioned directly ahead of us. Two festive beams

flanked the sides; one with witches and goblins embedded in it, and the

other with ghosts and pumpkins.

The class was like a grim dungeon: bare, colorless and damp. Hot

water droplets fell from a pipe ceiling. In place of chairs and desks, there

were five rows of bench seats and one long work table for each row.

Quil promptly sat me in the second row – the only spot vacant – as

young skeletasaltis and uboian students began psyclining into the room.

58

He wedged himself between me and an older skeletasaltis and etabpried

on my section of the tabletop.

<Class S1 Third Sector

Day 1 - Morning 06 Hours - Day 13 Hours

Chosen-H Jesse J.

East Earelavon, Town Creepy, Str. E131>

As Quil psyclined into his row two rows back, which, I concluded, had

been assigned to him earlier, I took a look around. There were no shelves

on the walls, nor wallpaper, just etabpry writing. That was really it. No

school supplies or papers. It was just a room with rows of benches and

tables.

I looked back to Quil; he was talking to an uboian who was about four

feet tall. The uboian looked my way, then huddled heads with Quil. I

spotted a lot of different types of markings on his sleek body. One that

stood out more clearly than the others was the marking on the back of his

hand.

Chosen-U Wal T.

Wal spotted me staring at him, and I quickly turned back around.

“Hey, Chosen-H Jesse J.,” I heard behind me. “Hey!” This time it

came from my side; Wal had just psyclined next to me, first reading the

inscription Quil had written on my desk, then looking strangely at my

shaggy reddish-orange hair. After that, he smirked at each of my

“markings”; from the red circular scar on my left forearm where I was

bitten by a spider, to the words ‘Ireland Festival Clear’ imprinted on the

inside of my wrist, and then, lastly, to the huge birthmark on my left leg,

which he stared at the longest and was evidently attempting to classify

me by.

“New Chosen-S Quil R. says you can take on the whole class. Is that

true? I want to see. . . . And why don’t you have bones? Or is your skin

actually not see-through?”

Quil appeared next to Wal. “He doesn’t want to show you, Chosen-U

Wal T. He keeps it a secret, like I said.”

“You said he can even take on Instructor-U Ion O. Can he Jical against

59

Assistant Instructor-U Valan G.?”

Quil pondered for a second. “He can, but he doesn’t want to lower his

Private Hollowk status.”

“Yeah, okay, Chosen-S Quil R.”

“I did make a dog fall once,” I stated happily.

Wal gave me a strange look. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “A dog?

What is a dog?”

The class stopped chattering and quickly psyclined to their places,

standing tall in front of the benches. I climbed over mine and stood in my

row, watching with everybody else as a smoke cloud formed behind a

chair, centered in front of the class.

Orange eyes glowed with excitement as assistant Instructor-U Valan G.

materialized from the cloud of smoke. The students stood taller.

One glance from the assistant, and the walls of the room were cleared

of etatbpried. He turned to the class of forty, who hadn’t taken their eyes

off of him.

“Some of you know that Instructor-U Ion O. will no longer be teaching

S1 this third sector. You will address me as Instructor-U Valan G. Those

of you who were in first and second sector with him might think this is

good news. Let me assure you that I will not baby you just because I am

closer to your age, or give you any breaks. We have a new Chosen today.

He was permitted to skip first and second sector for the reason that he

had been homeschooled.” He said the last part as though he disapproved.

“Chosen-S Quil R., stand up.”

Quil shyly stood up, glancing at me worriedly with his one eye, which

caused the whole class to turn my way. All eyes then turned back to

Instructor Valan.

“Chosen-S Quil R., no matter what you were taught and exams you

have passed, you are still well behind a Chosen in sector three. The hours

we spend here are much more intensive than the hours you spend training

at home–”

Quil triple flashed his eye green. Instructor Valan nodded, giving

permission for Quil to speak.

“I’ve read textbooks–”

“Chosen-S Quil R., I know your father is Captain-S Oso R. and you

may have been trained secretly–”

Quil’s eye flashed green three times again.

“No?” said Instructor Valan.

60

“Captain-S Oso R. has never secretly trained me. I am self-taught.”

“You may be, but you are still behind and half-blind. Ones with

disabilities don’t make First Line and normally don’t go to school. I

don’t know why your Hollowk Generator thought otherwise. Training

with a fellow Chosen is hard enough as is. But if you can prove to me

you are on an equal level, I will respect your words and let you stay.

Would you Jical?”

Quil quickly nodded, looking around the class, but refusing to glance at

me.

“Chosen-U Wal T., will you step forward and lead the class to Grim

Field,” commanded Instructor Valan as he disappeared. His voice was

still heard. “You will Jical against Chosen-S Quil R.”

Wal instructed the Chosens to line up. I hurried over to Quil and lined

up behind him. Wal tapped the first in line, and the student disappeared.

Like a wave, they all psyclined. As it neared Quil’s and my turn, Quil

grabbed my hand and psyclined us.

My toes submerged into a mushy ground; we had psyclined to a dark

plane of wet soil and flattened grass, walled in by bulky boulders. And a

forest stood behind the giant rocks.

The class circled around Quil and Wal as Instructor Valan grabbed

both of their hands.

“Chosens, I have drained all Hollowk’s magic,” he announced, letting

go of their hands and stepping back. “I want twenty summons. No more,

no less. Once you have him on eighteen, you can easily charm or

summon two quick spells. Chosen-S Quil R., do you know the basic

rules of Jical?”

Quil nodded hesitantly, his single eye vigilant to his surroundings. He

didn’t look ready. No matter, Instructor Valan took two more steps

backward and put his hands behind him, watching Quil closely.

Quil sat down cross-legged on the wet dirt, locking his eye on Wal.

“What are you doing?” said Wal, shocked. “Stand up,” he ordered.

“No. It’s harder sitting. Don’t you know?”

Wal didn’t take his narrowing eyes off of Quil and cautiously sat

down. They stared each other down for a while, but then something

happened because Quil cringed painfully. Wal smirked as he placed his

hands onto his knees.

61

Wal’s eyes became engulfed in green flames capturing Quil’s anguish

on Wal’s reflective skin; Quil’s eye welled up with tears.

This looked too easy for Wal. However, his smug smile vanished the

moment he saw, as did the entire class, another reflection. This time, it

was on his leg, and it was not of his own making.

The class moved closer, astonished by what they were seeing.

Instructor Valan circled the class, looking for what might have awed

them so. Unable to see past the huddled heads, he pushed his way

through the students and stopped beside Quil, whose bones were rippling

like a flag in a windstorm.

The instructor’s expressionless face slowly turned to a puzzled look.

What he saw wasn’t a reflection, but a creepy red arachnid crawling

inside Wal’s leg. His thigh bone had become visible through the skin,

and we could all see the spider probing the top of the femur.

Wal scrambled backward and fell, but not because he had been

defeated. He was purposely breaking out of the range of the spell. Now

on his feet, Wal approached his opponent, who was gripped by a heart-

stopping fear, a fear so strong that the students backed away. Even the

instructor took a step back. Quil was being thrashed by violent

convulsions, causing tears to squirt uncontrollably from his blazing red

eye.

The students retreated even further. No one knew what to make of the

scene.

“Chosen Wal,” the instructor uttered unsurely, “you have beat him.

Counter the spell.”

Wal was in a state of shock.

“Wal! You have won! Stop this at once or you will be sentenced to

Cruel Dudgeon–”

“I-I . . . my charm can’t do this,” mumbled Wal, confused, sweeping

his hands along the ground to wipe out the lasting effects of the charm,

sloshing the wet mud between Wal and Quil.

“What exactly did you summon?” prompted Instructor Valan.

Quil curled his body, sobbing.

“I countered it,” Wal said quietly, looking apologetic.

“Wal, what did you summon?” repeated the instructor, tending to Quil.

“A . . . a memory charm. That’s all I did. I meant only to delight the

Chosens with a funny memory of his. This . . . I don’t know what this

is.”

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The air was quiet. Quil’s sobbing had finally subsided to a monotonous

whimper. He was on his side, looking deeply into the vision of his

memory. His lips parted. He was trying to speak.

“Chosen Quil, Wal has withdrawn the charm,” the instructor told Quil.

“You are not there. It’s only a memory.”

But he was there.

“That is my Father!” Quil’s grieving voice was muffled a little. He was

speaking to an individual in his hallucination. He swallowed painfully

and said, “He is dead?”

The heads of the students turned in the direction he was looking, but

there was no one there. All we saw was the marsh field.

“Mother is alive?” he murmured. “They will kill me because I was

born?”

He paused as he clutched his arms against his chest.

“What will you do? . . . Can I live so long? . . . Mother and I will go

alone?”

While we waited for Quil to continue, the instructor kneeled beside

Quil, listening closely.

“I am curious about your name?” There was another period of silence.

“I admire your name. My name is Quil. My mother is Kay. It is a

pleasure to meet you.”

The instructor snapped his fingers. “You’re out,” he said. And, just like

that, Quil was out of his memory.

“Out?” asked Quil, dazed, turning over.

“And you have lost the duel,” the instructor concluded.

Quil’s bewilderment turned to sadness as he wiped away his tears.

“Instructor-U Valan G., can we Jical one more time?” Quil begged. “I

can win.”

“Chosen-U Wal T. gave you a charm too dark for you to handle. As

you see,” he addressed the class, “a third sector does not Jical a second or

first sector, or a disabled halloween. However, Chosen-S Quil R.

conjured a difficult spell. A springervias?”

“Yes,” replied Quil.

Instructor Valan smiled slightly. The class clapped and droned about

the duel, in grips of agitation and glee, the way only kids can.

“That was so Veil of Time,” one said.

Another said, “Quil’s my friend. And he’s disabled.”

Quil brushed the mud off of his striped robe and sprang to his feet.

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“You were close to beating me,” smiled Wal. “You’re good. You had

me in the beginning.”

“Thanks,” Quil smiled back.

Wal and Quil single-flashed their eyes orange at each other and

stepped back into the broken line. Unable to squeeze next to Quil after

Wal had taken my place, I hurried to the end of the line and stood at

attention.

“That was an impressive Jical,” said Instructor Valan, planting himself

in front of Quil and Wal. “It’s been some time since S1 Chosens evoked

and countered a series of magic with such tenacity and refinement.

Chosen-S Quil R., you have my respect. You are officially in Third

Sector S1.”

Transfixed, Quil gazed at the ‘3S1' tattooed onto his palm. Instructor

Valan walked down the line of the Chosens, examining their postures

and robes, bowing his head to some and disregarding others,

reorganizing the line according to their ranks. The Chosens with ‘1S1'

and ‘2S1' were positioned next to a ‘3S1' Chosen. As he passed, each

Chosen single-flashed their eyes orange. He stopped in front of one

Chosen-U and inspected his robe briefly, then moved on. He halted a few

other times before reaching me. I made sure to stare forward and keep

my chest and shoulders straight.

He inspected my neck and pulled the collar of my robe to look at my

shoulder blades, and he even pushed up my sleeves to check my arms.

I blinked my eyes twice, thinking that he might have been told by

General Heloe that I couldn’t glow my eyes.

“What are you?” questioned Instructor Valan. “Where’s your mark?”

“I . . .” I didn’t know if I was allowed to speak. I wanted to look down

the line for Quil, but I was afraid to.

“Address me and declare your rank, Chosen,” he ordered.

I blinked my eyes four times, having no clue what that signified, and

shook my head.

“You may state your rank,” he indicated with interest.

“Chosen-H Jesse J.,” I said.

There were murmurs. Instructor Valan stepped back and scanned his

class, which made them stand tall again and single-flashed orange.

“Chosen-S Quil R., do you know Chosen-H Jesse J.?” he asked.

Quil stepped forward so he could be seen. “I do, Instructor-U Valan G.

We came together. I thought you knew about him.”

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“No, I was not informed. You may speak on this matter freely.”

“Instructor-U Ion O. must have been the one informed. General-Ubolo

Heloe C. must not have known that you would replace him.”

“You have been in the General’s presence?” He looked genuinely

taken aback by this. The commotion in the line that followed was quickly

nipped by a stern look from the instructor.

“I didn’t meet him,” said Quil. “Chosen Jesse did. He was informed by

General Heloe that mí mamá – my Hollowk Generator – and I were to

take him in. My Hollowk Generator hadn’t brought this to my attention

until he was already in my home. Haven’t you been told who he is by the

timeline of the history of Halloween?”

Quil looked as if he wished he hadn’t said these last words.

“Chosen-S Quil R., what history timeline?” Instructor Valan said

coldly. “There is no record of a Chosen-H Jesse J. in the Chosen or

Hollowk textbooks. Have you been informed by Captain-S Oso R. about

higher rank affairs?”

“No,” Quil answered truthfully. Technically, he wasn’t lying. Heloe

was the one who gave Quil the timeline.

I peeked down the line to see Quil looking straight ahead. “Sorry, that

was a dream I had last night. I’ve never read any history documents or

timeline. But Jesse was given a Rank D by General-Ubolo Heloe C. He

is a chosen.”

“Chosen-H Jesse J.,” Instructor Valan commanded, turning back to me,

looking kind of bitter, “you appear to be a unique skeletasaltis. Have you

been mistaken? Are you Chosen-S Jesse J.?”

I hesitated, before saying, “No.”

“Then what is the initial of?”

I froze. Would it be okay if I told him? General Heloe really hadn’t

told me anything about not telling anyone about who I was.

“You are one of the very lucky ones to ever meet the General,”

Instructor Valan went on gruffly. “I haven’t met him and many of my

fellow Private Hollowks haven’t. It appears he gave you a race different

from ours.”

“Human-Hallow,” I muttered. “It is abbreviated to just one ‘H’.”

“Human-Hallow?” He repeated flatly, pondering something. “You are

a halloween from above?”

The classmates gasped and whispered amongst themselves and crept

out of line to get a glimpse of me. Instructor Valan didn’t order them to

65

quiet down or step back so the line moved closer to me.

Quil signaled me with his eye to look at the boulder behind the

instructor.

<you can tell the instructor> <he has figured out who you are> <he

will know if you are lying and punish you>

I turned back to Instructor Valan, who had just picked up on how Quil

and I were communicating, and was turning around— “My name is Jesse

Jacoby Jayden,” I told him, “and I am a friend of Katie Pundeff. I don’t

know what I am. What I know is, I am born of a halloween and a

human.”

The entire classed fell silent.

“Descendant Katie Pundeff?” he mumbled, barely opening his mouth.

I nodded.

“That can’t be true.”

The class stepped back from me. What were they scared of?

“I possess no magic,” I declared bluntly. “Except for one thing: I can

paralyze animals. That’s all I can do.”

There were some murmurs. No one looked to believe me.

“You can summon the rivolion?” asked Instructor Valan. The class

flocked around us. He went on. “The rivolion has never been possessed

by a halloween. It is Jical’s magic and the kind that is scarce and feared,

forbidden in Battlefield Hollowk.”

A short Chosen-S in the back single-flashed green eyes. “Instructor-U

Valan G., does this mean he might have a 12.1212 already?” he asked.

“No, it doesn’t,” answered the instructor. “Jical’s magic is not detected

on S-MPR. You know that. Don’t ask questions that you already know

the answers to. I will answer no more questions or allow any more

questions to be asked until I have finished going through Instructor Ion’s

class journal. Now, everyone fall back into formation. We are going to

split you into groups of four and then pair you off in twos. Today, we

will be in the maze. Third Sector S1 is a field training course, not an

academic one.”

Everyone quickly partnered up in twos and matched up with another

couple. A shiny uboian turned my way, but Quil psyclined to me first.

“Sorry, I got him,” said Quil, pulling me to one of the ten rock

66

openings. Wal and a scrawny uboian, with white blotches joined us.

Still, the shiny uboian continued looking at me in awe. “M-my dad said

you kissed Katie at a beautiful beach,” he stuttered joyfully. “That is

doing it!”

The instructor came in at the right time.

“I do not want more than one fatality today!” declared Instructor

Valan, standing at the mid-point of all ten entrances. It was difficult to

hear what he was saying. “For the past two weeks, my second sector S2

had a total of two! I don’t want one in the next two weeks!”

Quil, Wal, and our fourth teammate eagerly inched closer to the start of

the maze. The shiny uboian had found a group next to us and was still

gaping at me.

“Quil? Chosen-S Quil R.?” I whispered. “I have to go inside, too?”

He nodded. “Use what you know,” he informed quietly. “If you get

stranded in there or get lost, summon the rivolion. Don’t worry if it’s not

allowed. If you get injured out there . . . or die, I don’t think General

Heloe will be happy. We won’t get penalized more than a point.”

“But Quil–” I didn’t care about calling him by his proper title, “I don’t

know how to summon the rivolion again? I was too angry at the time to

think about how I summoned it – wait, is it emotions?”

Quil shook his head, looking quite confident.

“I’m Chosen-U Geevro Q.,” introduced my second uboian teammate.

“Chosen-S Quil R. is right, emotions don’t conjure magic. Usually they

interrupt it–”

“No talking, Chosens!” shouted Instructor Valan over a breeze that had

creepily grown stronger. All the trees in the stone maze bowed. “You are

to take no more than two colors!” The striped robes of each group

changed colors. Ours stayed orange and black. “The team that presents

three Chosens at the other side of the maze will be the winner. All

members of the team must be present, otherwise I send you all back in.

For your safety, I will be inside, trying to keep injuries to a minimum. If

I catch a Chosen summoning baleful magic, they will sit out the

remainder of the day. Murder, and you will be sentenced to Cruel

Dungeon.”

A short Chosen-U single-flashed green eyes.

“Sorry, there will be no more questions!” the instructor replied.

The same one glowed green eyes.

“You all have passed the written exams in second sector! You are

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expected to have the guidelines imprinted in your skull! You have five

seconds! Five, four, three, two, one!”

The students rushed into the maze, a few jumping on the rock walls of

their tunneling entrance and scurrying along like lizards. A few others

morphed into hideous halloweens of colossal dimensions.

Quil and I jogged in, sticking closely behind Wal and Geevro. Wal

swung his right arm out, stopping us from crossing a swampy

intersection, catching an isolated cry from the right passage. “Stop. If we

want to win, we need to separate. Chosen Jesse go with Chosen

Geevro—”

“I’ll take Jesse,” said Quil.

“But you’re as unfamiliar with this place as he is.”

“I got him,” said Quil. “He is my family’s responsibility.”

“Fine,” ended Wal.

I was reluctant to separate because it was usually a bad idea. But I

complied and quietly stayed close to Quil.

“We need to plan this out,” whispered Geevro, peeking down the left

side. “I think we should remain here and let them come to–”

Geevro was pulled up the wall by Team Green. Quil and Wal instantly

went into action. Quil melted his body into the wall, turning into a huge

lump, then reached out of it and grabbed hold of the kidnapper’s legs.

Meanwhile, another group had joined the fight and started zeroing in on

me. Wal sprang off the top of the wall and struck the ground in front of

me, planting himself between me and the intruders.

“Stay your distance!” he ordered to the snarling skeletasaltis who was

exhaling fumes of fire.

They ignored him and stepped forward. Wal’s back slumped and

lengthened, and he grew into a giant. His head soared past the top of the

rock walls and spikes shot out of his center, striking the skeletasaltis in

the back. He stooped and punched the last skeletasaltis standing.

“Jesse, summon the boraluse!” shouted Quil, cornered by blue-clad

uboians. “They’re ganging up on us!”

“Chosen Quil, get Chosen Jesse out of here!” commanded Wal,

beginning to shrink.

I scanned the foggy passage to my right and entered it hesitantly. I

wasn’t sure if it was safe? I looked deep into the passage straining to see

through the fog; I could hear the sound of gentle voices coming from the

inside.

68

“Come here. I can tend to your needs. We will be your Angels. Do you

see us?”

Intrigued, I turned the corner. Wal and Quil jumped off the walls from

behind me and encircled a team of skeletasaltis who were perched on the

ceiling, waiting for me.

“Let him go!” shouted Quil through a storm he had summoned

overhead. “I will enter you by cyclib! Let - him - go!”

“Chosens, do what he–” Wal stopped.

It was too late. Quil had duplicated himself four times and jumped

inside their bodies. By force, the skeletasaltis were lifted off the top wall

and slammed into the ground.

Wal jumped down and picked up two unconscious skeletasaltis and

flashed his eyes red before disappearing into the fog. Quil spelled out an

incantation over the last skeletasaltis and waved his fingers. “Ra-yolope-

kay-feeelaaa.”

The body rose and shriveled up, looking to have shrunken to the size of

a weightless corpse. Quil slung it over his right shoulder.

“Jesse, we’ve got to move,” he whispered, checking behind us.

I wasn’t going to make him repeat it. After some twisted turns,

cluttered tunnels, and swerving passages, we exited out of the back of the

maze. My group flashed their eyes yellow and beamed them into the dark

clouds Quil had created inside. Geevro, however, had flashed his eyes

black and turned his robe into blue and black stripes.

Instructor Valan appeared as Quil and Wal were flattened into the mud

by the weight of the skeletasaltis who they had just had complete control

of.

“Team Blue has captured Chosen-U Wal T.,” said Geevro, as the

skeletasaltis snapped chains onto our wrists and ankles. “And Chosen-H

Jesse J. and Chosen-S Quil R.”

“No, you can’t do that!” bellowed Wal. “Chosen Geevro is on our

team!”

“No,” said Instructor Valan. “Chosen-U Geevro Q. is on Team Blue.

You are Team Orange.”

“Chosen Geevro is a traitor!”

“Let me ask.” He turned to Geevro. “Were you originally on Team

Orange?”

“No.”

“Liar!” yelled Wal.

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“Chosen-U Wal T., you have been beaten.”

“No.” He gave Geevro and his team an evil stare.

“Uh . . .” I spoke, feeling like I could finally help.

“Yes?” said Instructor Valan, looking down on me.

“Isn’t there supposed to be four players in each team? Where is our

fourth?”

Right when I said it, a skeletasaltis wearing an orange and black striped

robe stumbled out of the maze like a toddler taking its first steps.

“He’s not on our team!” barked Wal. “That’s a conjure!”

“We have many more rounds, Chosen-U Wal T.,” Instructor Valan

remarked calmly. “And you shouldn’t get so angry when your team has

demonstrated magical control. The focus in third sector is just that.”

Instructor Valan turned to the maze, making the rock walls sink into

the ground. He then single-flashed his eyes red at the Chosens still

running around. They needed no further command, immediately standing

at attention facing him and flashing their eyes orange.

“You have a five minute break while I tend to the injuries,” he

concluded. “The winners will be announced at the end.”

For the next ten hours we went back inside fifteen times. I had spent

most of the time as a captive or inside a secluded niche Quil or Wal hid

me in. Sadly, most of their injuries were from rescuing me or fighting off

my opponents. Because of it, we didn’t win at all, and our team was

taken prisoner more than any other team. Quil and Wal were taken three

times while our new addition, Beetay, conjured up by Team Blue, was a

disobedient Consolidated Chosen, holding no other magic than the ability

to survive multiple zaps by Wal. I was just as much a nuisance as Beetay

was. I was captured ten times. When it was over, I was thankful that Wal

hadn’t killed me in frustration. I think if Quil hadn’t been on our team,

Wal would have, in fact, harmed me.

On the bright side, my team was awarded the mark of the Hollowk, the

first team to receive one on the first day of school in two years. How we

had managed that was a mystery. Wal thought it was because of how we

withstood a large number of deliberate attacks.

Quil and I waved bye to Wal before heading out. We made two food

stops on our way home. The first at a meat merchant we met on the street

who sold overpriced raw meat wound in lettuce, something Quil loved,

and the second at a pie shop that was handing out free pumpkin pies.

It was almost nineteen hours by the time we got to his structure. East

70

Earelavon was almost completely submerged in darkness. The moon and

the stars did not shine through the rock top, and most of the lanterns

outside each structure were only beginning to glow.

“So, Quil? Jesse?” enquired Kay the instant we stepped inside. “How

was First Sector S1? Did you pass all the written and oral tests?”

Quil nodded.

Had Quil gone behind his mother’s back and skipped First and Second

Sector S1?

Quil answered all of Kay’s questions as if he had actually taken the

class.

“And congratulations, Jesse!” she said at the end. “I’m glad you had

the courage to kiss Katie. She really needed it. The beach was a good

touch. I just read yesterday’s transcript.”

Oh, my God, everyone knew I kissed her! Why did they have to

embarrass me? I wondered if there were transcripts of me playing with

toys in the bathtub? Or going to the bathroom? That would be so nasty!

“Mamá, you went under my bed!” said Quil. “That’s personal!”

She didn’t say anything. Quil hurried me to his room and melted the

cracks on the door.

“Don’t ever tell Kay I’m lying to her about first sector?” he threatened,

rummaging through the stacks of paper under his bed.

A little taken aback by this sudden aggression, I shook my head to

reassure him.

“No, I’ll never tell. I promise, Quil.”

“Why are you holding back? Don’t you want to show everyone how

powerful you are? I don’t understand who you are when I read these

transcripts. Everyone fits their character. You don’t. You have

unexplained mood swings. You’re mean to people a lot. I can’t read you

when you turn violent.”

I lowered my head, feeling awful. But I wasn’t a nutcase. I was a good

person. Or was I? It couldn’t be that I had a mental disorder.

“Me and Wal can’t save you every time,” he continued, looking up

from his rummaging. “You’ll eventually have to use magic. We need

your help sometimes. Wal thinks we’ll never win if you’re on our team.

He says we spend half the time protecting you.”

“I tried,” I said, ashamed. “Quil, I’m sorry for being mean to people. I

hate my temper.”

He didn’t respond. It felt awkward talking about this.

71

“I really tried,” I said, returning to the subject of magic. “I don’t know

how to summon magic. How do you do it? I’ve been trying to ask

everyone all day, but the Hollowks didn’t think I was serious.”

“You really tried out there?” Quil’s anger was subsiding, and he was

starting to believe me. “I don’t try, except with more difficult magic,

especially Jical’s magic. But mostly you just know you can. I know I can

psyclin because I can imagine myself traveling to my destination. You

want to try? Yeah, let’s do it.”

Quil excitedly stood up and playfully pushed me off my bed. “Sorry

about being angry with you. I just kind of thought halloweens, or a child

of one, should be powerful. But we do know you can rivolion. That sets

you above many halloweens.”

I smiled. I wondered, a little skeptical, which halloweens I exceeded in

power.

“Okay,” he began, levitating his bed to the middle of the room. “Let’s

start with going to the other side of my bed. Here, let’s try this.”

He took me around the bed and back. “There. Now you have visually

traveled to the place you want to go. Close your eyes. All you have to do

is picture yourself walking there and stopping on the other side of the

bed.”

He waited, and I waited. I focused extremely hard. Actually, I really

didn’t because I could easily imagine myself walking to the other side of

the bed. Yet, time and again I opened my eyes to see that I hadn’t

budged. We tried for hours and still got nowhere. My body just wouldn’t

want to move. It would speak, though. I made some poppy farts when I

was laughing a little too hard.

“Where is that coming from?” Quil wondered after a wheezy fart,

trying to look behind me for answers. “Is that magic?”

“Uh . . .” I said, turning red.

“It smells. Maybe you should give some of that to Kay. She might

want to add it to her Repel Shield ingredients.”

We laughed most of the night. He offered to Jical me downstairs in the

den, and I outright refused with a prompt “no.” After he begged me

twenty times and shocked me in my butt whenever I tried to sit down, I

had to accept. But it wasn’t because my butt hurt, but because he said

that sometimes when you’re competing, the magic flows out naturally.

For some reason that was really funny to me and I wasn’t able to stop

laughing until Kay poked her head in, trying to see what we were up to.

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I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew already with that sly smile on her

face.

“Jical? Jesse, take it easy on my pumpkin,” she stated lovingly, coming

all the way in, thinking it was okay. “He’s just a beginner.”

“Maaamááá! That’s humiliating!” Quil snorted.

“You are, Quil. I don’t want you to get hurt. Jesse is a human hobo –

Jesse, is that what you decided to call yourself? . . . Anyway, the magical

injury staff is down on the field now. They can’t come and help,

pumpkin.”

We quickly slipped out of his room before she could say anything else.

73

CHAPTER SEVEN

In a small circular den underneath the house, Quil and I took our

positions across from each other.

“I’m going to make it easy for you,” he informed me. “If I throw

something at you like an open cut that won’t close, you’ll need to counter

it by creating a treatment for it. I’ll start . . .”

I wasn’t ready. “Wait, just let me–”

It was too late, Quil sat down, and I was suddenly thrown into the wall.

If my head had hit first, I might not have lived.

“Quil, I can’t counter!” I cried. “Quil! . . .”

Still sitting, Quil levitated me to the center of the room and placed me

in front of him.

“Quil, I’m trying,” I continued.

I did try. I focused on making myself heavy, so he couldn’t levitate me,

but nothing seemed to work. The seven-year-old smiled, and my arms

turned purple and became like magnets as they were drawn to each side

of the room. These were the first of many painful spells he cast on me

over the next few minutes.

“Quil, stop!”

Quil released me. “You really can’t summon anything?” he ended.

“You were telling the truth.”

“I know,” I gasped. The pain was over, but I was still exhausted: Quil

had turned me into a bat, made me catch the flu, forced me to throw up a

whole pie, and jerked me around the room like a marionette.

“See, Quil. I don’t have any magic.”

Suddenly, it looked like an epiphany struck him. He shot up and

dragged me upstairs to the front room, taking me to an impression of a

handprint on the wall. He pressed his hand inside and a green light

beamed down from the ceiling. Behind the light on the wall, an

inscription surfaced.

“This is the S-MPR,” he said. “It can figure out all the potential magic

74

you have or could have. It can recognize everything. But not Jical’s.”

I peered through the dim stream of green light.

Samhain - Magic Potential Range

(S-MPR)

3.33

5.55

18.181

“You said you can reach a–” I was interrupted.

“10.1010,” he said proudly. “I’m only seven. I can still get higher.

Magical development doesn’t stop until eleven years old. I wonder if I

can reach an eleven point. That’s Instructor Valan’s range. If I can reach

it in two years, I can challenge him to Jical; if I beat him, I will get

recognized by high rank officers . . . maybe papá.”

“What is a higher officer’s range?” I asked, wanting to know where he

stood amongst them. “Do halloweens above test themselves? I’ve never

heard of them doing so.”

“They don’t test themselves anymore. The Haunt House holds one of

two remaining ones. We have one because of mí papá. He has a huge say

in what he wants. Even the lowest is not that pathetic. The spectacalons

75

range up to a 1.11. If you think that’s low, then you should see when a

Consolidated is tested. They’re given negatives. I read the fopen mummy

is 4.44. I wonder what I am now? It’s been a while.” A grand smile

creased his face. “Mí papá ranks highest among the Hollowks. At the

very least, he’s tied with the new Hollowk Lieutenant General. He and

papá got a 13.1313. I couldn’t believe that when mí mamá told me. I was

jumping for joy. That is so high. See there, papá has listed a clawful of

halloween’s S-MPR’s.”

Next to the S-MPR was the list. The text was too small to read. It kind

of looked like the dots on a Braille sheet for the blind.

“Okay,” finished Quil, giving me no time to look over the list. “I think

I will test again. Close your eyes and wish.”

Quil stared at me until I closed my eyes. I slightly opened them to see

Quil step inside the beam. The first pair of boxes at 1.11 lit up.

I heard him muttering to himself.

“Come on, come on, I know I’m like mí papá, I know I am, come

on…”

The set of boxes for 2.22 lit up seconds later, then 3.33, then 4.44 . . .

“Jesse, watch!” Quil said excitedly. “You can open your eyes.”

The 9.99 boxes lit . . . then very dimly the 10.1010 lit. Quil yelped and

excitedly clenched his phalange fists.

10.1010

Quil and I both stared at the next box. A lot time passed, and Quil grew

tired, but right as he stepped off, the next box lit.

Quil didn’t say anything for five minutes. I decided not to break the

silence. When he did speak, he yelled and produced a show of fireworks.

I didn’t know what he said during it. He psyclined out of the room and

returned with Kay, who congratulated him as he still thundered with joy,

although she wasn’t as thrilled as Quil when he said he was going to tell

his papá.

“Come on, Jesse, your turn,” yipped Quil. “I won’t laugh if you get a

negative. You did summon a rivolion. That should keep you out of the

negatives for sure. That magic is very powerful.”

“I really meant to smash the thing the other day,” said Kay. “Jesse,

don’t forget that we are descendants of an extremely magical halloween.

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You just go in and whatever you get is what you get.”

“Mamááá!” cried Quil. “You weren’t even going to tell me?”

“I don’t like this thing.”

“You don’t like anything! You test yourself all the time!”

“Long ago,” she stressed.

“You rank second highest of all Hollowks. You don’t even practice!

You’re the only one who could take on General Heloe!”

“I could have been mistaken. It was long ago–”

“No. You rank seventeen point. Higher than papá. How do you not like

it? You hate everything. You hate me going to class, you hate what we’re

working for, you even hate papá. He didn’t do anything wrong. He does

his job, and that’s why he never comes home. He has to tend to his

duties.”

“Yes, I agree,” Kay said softly, sounding depressed.

“Mamá, don’t worry! Nothing will happen to me when I leave. I’ll

sneak out and visit when I become a Private Hollowk.”

“You promise, pumpkin?”

“Mamááá, I don’t like ‘pumpkin’.”

“I know, I know, pumpkin.”

Quil snarled, but hugged Kay anyway.

“Jesse, go on,” nudged Kay. “We won’t look.”

Quil covered his one eye, but Kay made him turn his back to me, too.

“Give Jesse some privacy,” said Kay.

“Mamááá!” I heard.

“Jesse, go on, so we can make Goyle Toe Meatball.”

I made sure they really had their backs turned, then stepped into the

light. I wondered what would happen if I was like a Consolidated–

Just then . . .

- -2.22

- -1.11

Samhain - Magic Potential Range

(S-MPR)

.22

I couldn’t believe this. Crapper, I can’t believe you would give me no

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magic! Right as I said the line to myself, I thought of Katie. And that led

to Oz, Duma, Dorian, and even Jacoby. I missed them all. I wanted to go

home. I liked Quil and Kay, but I needed to go. I couldn’t even handle a

class of seven year olds. They were skeletasaltis, like Kay had said, very

powerful halloweens from ancient time, but I didn’t care. I just didn’t

belong here. I doubted that I would survive another day in third sector. I

wondered if Heloe was going to come soon? He had said I was to stay

for a day, hadn’t he?

Just as I was about to step away, the negative 3.33 boxes lit.

Yeah, Crapper, thanks a lot!

It really wasn’t meant to be. What was a child of a halloween and

human meant to do? Wait . . . maybe because my father was a halloween

and mother was a human, maybe her genes had won against his? That

was scientifically possible. That did leave me with the rivolion, which,

according to Quil, would keep me out of the negatives.

Oh well, was all I could say and stepped off . . .

Then, unexpectedly, a light flashed behind me. I froze in mid-step, still

inside the light, and turned around slowly. I anxiously kept my balance,

and peered through the beam of light. The negative 1.11 boxes had lit up.

How could it jump back like that?

I hopped on one foot back into the green stream of light. These long

tedious delays reminded me of waiting outside, hoping my father would

come home. This was stupid.

The -1.11 light dimmed. What the . . . ?

- -2.22

- -1.11

Samhain - Magic Potential Range

(S-MPR)

3.33

I stared forever at the 1.11 and then smiled.

“Mamá!” shouted Quil behind me. “Look! He’s a 1.11. And I saw it on

negative 2.22 first!”

“Pumpkin, what did I say about peeking? If he doesn’t want to tell us,

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then it’s–”

Kay was gaping at the wall. I turned back; the 1.11 wasn’t glowing

anymore. I looked at the 2.22, but no glow either. A glow further down

caught my eye . . .

The set of boxes for 5.55 was lit.

I stood there in awe as Quil and Kay walked up and stood, staring

intently at the inscription of numbers.

The light dimmed and came back on at 6.66.

“Mamá?” muttered Quil, his one eye riveted to the wall.

And once again the light faded, and glowed brightly on 7.77. Then

nothing happened for a minute.

“Jesse, I told you, you had to be powerful,” said Quil, wiping his

sweaty skull and looking less statuesque. “Now you can brag to all the

doubters in S1. You did pretend you didn’t own any magic–” Quil

watched the light fade. “I knew you were faking. I could tell. Is it that

important to keep it secret from–”

Looking at Quil’s astonished face, I eagerly turned back toward the

wall. It skipped 8.88 and was now glowing unmistakably at 11.1111.

Like slow running Christmas lights, a series of flashes moved up the

range . . .

12.1212 . . .

13.1313 . . .

14.1414 . . .

Kay stood quietly to my left. My hands were trembling. I got a higher

rank than . . .

15.1515 . . .

16.1616 . . .

“Oh, my sweet pumpkins,” I heard Kay gasp.

17.1717 . . .

18.1818 . . .

Kay joined Quil and wrapped her arms around him, both watching in

great wonder.

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19.1919 . . .

And then the light had shot up hitting every box. As the last given set

of boxes of 22.2222 was dimmed, the light lit back up at negative 4.44.

- -4.44

- -3.33

- -2.22

- -1.11

None of us spoke until the glow disappeared with the inscription.

“Mamá?” muttered Quil, still held by Kay. “We have to report this–”

“Pumpkin, that would not be good judgment,” she muttered back.

“But mamá . . .”

“Quil . . . this is a child of a halloween and a human . . .”

“I want to go home,” I told her.

They were gaping at me like a monster and now muttering incoherently

to each other.

“What is your problem?” I snapped. “There is nothing wrong with me!

If you don’t take me home right now–”

Kay pulled Quil back as the room darkened. We heard the door creak

open, sucking out the flames inside the lanterns. Already in a state of

bewilderment, we were too dazed to react to this. When we finally

looked back, all we saw was a stone wall. There was no door or window.

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CHAPTER EIGHT

The disappearing jars of Repel Shield stashed in the corner cupboard

reminded me of something so frightening I lost my footing and stumbled

back. Not only had the pumpkins disappeared, but all of the furniture: the

two sofas, the two chairs in the corner, the fur rug, even the cobwebs and

the crud on the floor. The two rustic lanterns hooked by the kitchen

doorway were the last to go. My mind was back in Morocco in a

hollowed asylum with the menala, Meesi, trying to escape Jack’s

summoning spell.

Kay shined her eyes, illuminating half of the room and driving away

the ghost of my memory, casting light onto four skeletasaltis standing tall

as giants with grim faces. Not one stood shorter than seven feet, and

every one of them had ten double-ended arrows on their collarbones.

“P-papá,” stammered Quil excitedly at the tallest skeletasaltis with

pitch black eyes. His rank was imprinted on the bottom of his thigh bone,

obscured by tense cartilage and muscle.

R X

Captain-S Oso R.

I became aware that I was pinned on top of a black table. It was useless

trying to lift myself up. It felt like there was a two hundred pound weight

on top of my chest. I strenuously turned my head back to the lit side of

the room. Kay was etabprying on the wall behind Captain Oso.

“Quil!” she pointed out quietly.

THE ADDRESS OF THE EYES:

single flash green: question

double flash green: yes

triple flash green: no

glow green: important question

single flash yellow: information

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double flash yellow: information regarding Descendant K. Pundeff.

glow yellow: important information during embattlement

single flash orange: salute higher Rank

double flash orange: salute Lieutenant General & Captain

glow orange: salute General

single flash red: obey or follow higher Rank

It wasn’t fast enough to stop Quil from continuing.

“Papá! You came!”

His father peered down at Quil icily, snuffing out his son’s radiant

smile.

“All of East Earelavon needs to be locked down for twenty-four

hours,” Captain Oso commanded to the Hollowks, still looking down at

his son. The contemptuous look on the Captain’s face was horrid and

demeaning. He didn’t care for his son.

“Papá, it’s–” remarked Quil, shocked, being cut off immediately.

“Speak out of order once more, Chosen, and you will be set up for

strict charges. Salute your higher rank or you will–”

“But, papá–” He sadly single-flashed orange, then immediately glowed

his eye green.

“That is an inappropriate salute, Chosen. You will be sentenced to–”

Quil promptly double flashed his eye orange.

“Generator and Chosen, you will line the wall. I will not ask again.”

Kay compliantly doubled flashed orange and bowed her head as she

pulled Quil backward. He slowly began to struggle and freed himself by

scorching Kay with red-hot hands.

“Papá, I beat him!” Quil blurted before Kay reached out for his throat.

“I beat him in a Jical!”

“Take hold of this Chosen,” Captain Oso ordered to the shortest

Hollowk.

The Hollowk psyclined behind Quil and magically drew Quil’s hands

back and chained his wrists.

“That’s your son!” snapped Kay, stepping forward. Her menacing eyes

and tilted-stance showed she wasn’t scared. “How can you treat him like

a Consolidated halloween? I chose to homeschool him! Do you know

where he was all day? I don’t think it would matter if I told you. So,

please take yourselves out of my home or I will–”

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Her speech was shut off. Her lips moved angrily until she realized she

couldn’t be heard.

“Papá, it’s me, your son,” said Quil. “You met me once. Don’t you

recognize me and mamá–”

Quil lost his vocals, too.

The dark eyes were drawn back to me. A completely black skeletasaltis

glowed his eyes green. “Is he dangerous?” asked the skeletasaltis

casually, looking down upon me as if I was an ugly newborn baby.

“Very,” answered Captain Oso. “Nobody ranks off the charts. Only

General Heloe. We will see.”

For the next hour, while we waited for Heloe to arrive, I was examined

internally and externally by the Hollowks. Not once did they use any

painful techniques. From bits of their speech, I learned they were trying

to locate my second soul, called Hallow’s Soul, a dilation of a

halloween’s human soul.

“Set line!” Captain Oso ordered promptly during a weary intermission,

sensing an arrival.

The three skeletasaltis psyclined alongside Captain Oso and Quil. Kay

stayed opposite of them, and I remained on the table.

Heloe appeared with an old uboian with bristly black hair and a full

length beard, bearing his title on his neck.

R R

Magic Command Sergeant-U Goss A.

All the eyes in the room glowed orange. Heloe came over to the table

and placed two friendly claws on me. He glanced over his shoulder at

Captain Oso.

“General Heloe, kill him,” Oso conveyed. “He is too dangerous to be

released. He cannot be measured. Neither can his Hallow’s Soul be

found. It is capable of enshrouding itself. This is the soul of the devil.”

Writing etched on the wall. Everyone looked.

<we will confirm the high S-MPR> <if Jacoby’s child is

unranked, you can kill him>

Sergeant Goss scuttled over to me, and the table was flipped upright. I

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fidgeted and cried out. Kay stepped forward, but was thrown back

against the wall.

He summoned another S-MPR. I stepped in and out of the ray of light

for two hours with the same outcome every time: every listed number

glowed, running back and forth between negatives and positives, and

always emitting its final glow on the negative 4.44 boxes. And my

Hallow’s Soul was never found, leading those present to believe I didn’t

have one at all and most likely didn’t possess any magic. Only a human

could be ranked a negative 4.44, Heloe repeated many times.

The Halloween History timeline had been etabpried on the wall in the

last hour. Rereading it was a painful experience. The word

“Descendants” scourged my mind.

“Tell me!” I demanded hoarsely from my back, tired of squirming on

the table. “Heloe, what are you doing? Tell me, please! Why is Katie in

the timeline?”

It didn’t look like I was going to get an answer.

“Katie’s a Descendant of a human prophet,” Quil told me, forgoing all

rank and discipline, “the one who foresaw the creation of Halloween.”

He paused as more writing chiseled the wall across from Captain Oso.

<Captain-S Oso R. escort Chosen-S Quil R. and Hollowk

Generator-S Kay. R. to Cruel Dungeon 69> <supply the

dungeon with maximum security for their protection> <I do

not want inmates somehow getting inside their cell>

Kay sternly snorted at Quil not to react.

“Papá!” he murmured anyway, lingering behind Kay. “You – I don’t

want to go in there!”

“Quil, quiet,” hushed Kay, then turning to her husband. “I read the

timeline, Captain Oso. Jack is too strong. He can’t be defeated. Oh, my

sweet patches, you’re going to kill everyone. What do you think an army

of skeletasaltis and uboians can do? He is a killer. He will kill them. . . .

You are not taking my last son. If he needs to be replaced, then I’ll take

his place. I tested last week a 17.1717. . . .”

The entire room emptied. It was just Heloe, me, and two chairs. One of

the chairs screeched towards me across the floor and forced me to sit.

“Leave them alone,” I said, trying to push myself out of the chair.

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“They didn’t do anything wrong.”

<you asked why Katie is in our history>

“Yes. Everything is about Katie! Why is a Descendant of Rose so

important?”

<Rose was a prophet who passed down important information

to his immediate family through teachings and stories>

<Katie being a Descendant makes her knowledge about

Halloween fact> <she knows more about our history than we

do> <even though she learned our history through Halloween

stories, she holds the true knowledge>

“What will happen to Katie?” I said worriedly. “Why is Jack killing all

the Descendants – the Dark Deaths? Is he going to kill . . .” I couldn’t get

it out. Tears started flowing. “Don’t let her die, Heloe.”

<we have been protecting her from the day her father was

killed>

“Is Jack after her?” I asked, not bothering to wipe my face.

<no> <he has yet to find out Frederick and Malena had a

child>

“Will he find out?”

<yes> <and when he finds out what she knows, he is going

to kill her>

“No!” I blurted in a sob. “Why would he . . . Why did you bring me

here? I want to be with her. Take me back.”

<I needed to find out who you are and what you know>

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“I’m not telling you anything!” I shouted.

<you have already told me what I wanted to know for the

moment>

“Don’t let him kill Katie. I don’t want her to die, Heloe. Do . . . do you

know when he will find out who she is?”

<I do>

“When?” I prompted frantically. No writing appeared. “When?

When?” My breath shortened. I shot out of my chair and threw it against

the wall.

“Take me to her!” I screamed. “Now!”

Writing began to form . . .

“No more etabprying! Take - me - HOME!”

<it is time for war, Jesse>

I paced back and forth from wall to wall, trying to calm down, but I

couldn’t. I hated him!

A third chair appeared next to me, and I kicked it, only to see another

one, which I kicked even harder.

“I want you dead,” I spat out, enraged.

<I will be soon>

“You and I are done,” I stated. “I don’t speak to things like you. You

are Lorseria. You think only about yourself – you don’t know, but I am

now in control of all the Hollowks.”

Heloe stood up, interested, as the chairs disappeared.

<you are?>

“I want you to release Quil and Kay. They’ll come with me.”

<I will if you tell me how you have advantage over me>

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“You have thousands of children. Next Halloween, you will be going

to war against the halloweens above, not Jack. So . . . you will take me

home now or next Halloween you will be dead. You are no longer the

General.”

A door appeared, and he stepped out. I quickly caught up and strode

alongside of him through the causeway of structures that were doorless

and windowless. Writing formed on the road ahead of us.

<when the war is over and Katie is dead, you will be

killed> <and as you are dying I will tell you that you had

no purpose in life>

“I am in control,” I burst out.

<I am still General-Ubolo Heloe Calvin> <I will not be

stepping down as you have ordered> <what you have not

foreseen is in moments I will cast upon you a memory

spell> <you will not recall a name, a color or an

inscription on the wall>

I came to a halt. “No, Heloe,” I muttered. “Y-you . . .” I stumbled to

the next bit of writing.

My heart started thumping. As I charged Heloe, he easily sidestepped

me and thrust me into an invisible wall, using magic. I fell backwards,

never hitting the ground, falling into an endless black hole glowing with

Heloe’s etabpry.

<Jesse, a note for you: Two nights ago, Jack discovered

Katie is one of the five remaining Descendants> <this will

be the last time you will see Katie alive, so make it

count> <if you can remember>

“No, no, no, no!” I cried out, hearing an empty space echo. “Don’t take

it away! I have to remember! I have toooooo!”

The vision of his words melted away like burning wax. . . .

87

CHAPTER NINE

Katie curled up under the covers and stared at her watch for the

zillionth time. She wasn’t in Jesse’s bed; she was on the floor. She hadn’t

slept in two days. She wasn’t tired and wasn’t going to fall asleep, not

until Jesse got back. Wasn’t Jesse coming back? Didn’t he want to come

back?

“I know him, he’d never leave for this long,” she said quietly to Duma,

who’d been more excited than usual the past two days, but now was

sleeping on her foot, looking like he got shot with a tranquilizer gun in

the face.

Katie slipped her foot from underneath Duma’s head and rolled onto

her side. Duma drowsily wobbled over to her and climbed on top of her

face.

“Stop doing that!” she spat, pushing him off. “I’m not going to sleep!”

Three soft knocks hit the door. “It’s . . . Dorian.”

“You can come in.”

Dorian popped his head in like a mouse and sniffed the breeze coming

through the window. He was concealed in Jesse’s hooded black sweater

and blue jeans that Oz had loaned him.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I was talking to Duma.” Dorian slowly pivoted

his head to the window as he continued to smell the wind. “You smell

them again?”

He nodded. “It’s the same scent accompanying Jesse’s. It’s the smell of

a visiting halloween.”

“But it’s not Jack, no? Is it the woman from Brazil?”

“Does she live outside Halloween?” Dorian looked back to her with his

usual bowed head.

“Yes. Dorian, can I ask you something about Jacoby and Oz?”

He regarded her silently.

“He left her because halloweens are scared of halloween babies. But

he’s back with her. What happens now? . . . I like Jesse,” she added.

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Dorian said nothing and fiddled with his orange forearm hairs.

“I don’t know,” he said after digging dirt from under his fingernails.

“You don’t know about what?” she said.

“Jacoby wouldn’t want you to–”

“He’s already doing it! I’m not trying to make babies!”

He crept back to the door. “I . . . am going to check outside.”

Katie sprawled awkwardly on the floor and stared at a bump in Jesse’s

mattress. It was his journals shoved underneath. He loved stashing them

there, thinking it was a good hiding place.

She took her wristwatch out of her pocket and looked at it again. It was

a good watch. The greatest gift ever, except for the journal pages Becky

had given her on Halloween.

She looked down at her brand-new running shoes and wiped her eyes

to see if she was crying. Her palm was wet. Crapper! I hate this! Stupid!

She turned to her other side and saw Duma on the windowsill, yelping

at something outside.

“What you looking at–”

An animal-gurgle shook the air outside the window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took a moment to wipe the tears from my face to look up at the night

sky; an alarmingly cloudless sky. It was strange. The night sky was never

clear an hour after Halloween. But even stranger was that I had been

crying. Why? I couldn’t have been crying for Jacoby. I would never shed

a tear for that man.

I grunted angrily, not getting the chance to take more than one step

onto the lawn. A glassy halloween was just inside my front gate, making

a soft gurgling sound from deep in his throat.

“What do you want?” I snapped, stumbling past it, barely making it out

of the gate before falling.

Why were my legs all weak?

I grabbed the top of the fence and hauled myself up, taking the longest

breath possible, then strode down my street.

I screamed and jerked my entire body forward in rage. I hated that

man! I never wanted to see him again! I began kicking every leaf,

pebble, and every bit of trash I came across. Anything in my way was

going to feel my pain. I knocked over a mailbox and bashed in the

headlights on a car parked on Beverly.

“I’m calling the police!” a neighbor yelled out from the porch of her

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pink house.

“Go ahead!” I yelled back, kicking her trashcan the hardest.

“I’m calling them right now!”

I returned to her trashcan and booted it into the middle of the street.

There was one last stop needed before I left La Mesa. The always cold

and gloomy graveyard was shrouded in a heavy fog, which was

beginning to cling to me, speckling the right side of my face and

dampening my clothes. Not worrying if I was on Dorian’s or Jacoby’s

side of the graveyard, I tipped over the gravestones, and when I was done

with that, I went over to his home and crushed the artwork on the side

wall with whatever I could find. Pleased with myself, I finally exited the

graveyard. The second I did, I was startled by strong headlights.

“Crapper, you’re blinding me!” I snapped, squinting my eyes at the

lights.

An intercom voice rang from the car. “Stay where you are!”

Sirens on top of the car wailed twice. What were they trying do, make

me go deaf?

“This is the police! Stop!” The intercom was needlessly loud. The cop

car pulled up next to me. “Are you–”

The driver turned off the intercom and spoke out of his window.

“Are you Jesse Jayden?” said a familiar officer. I stared at him. Yes, I

did know him and his partner. They were the same two officers Oz called

whenever I ran out at night. The driver was Pete, and his partner was Ian,

who giggled like a girl around my mom. Pete still had his thick

moustache curled up to his nostrils, and Ian was growing balder.

“Nope, not Jesse Jayden,” I lied. “He lives on Valle Drive. You might

want to check there, officers.”

Ian nudged his partner. “That’s him. I remember him alright. His

orange hair. Look, it’s an orange broccoli,” he laughed with Ian. “Hey,

fella, you need to come with us. Your mother is worried sick about you.”

I continued walking down Acacia, with the cop car trailing behind me.

“I’m okay,” I said. “Tell her I’m sorry. You got that?”

“No, we don’t got that, Jesse,” said Pete, handling the steering wheel

like a low rider. “We were specifically told by your mother to pick you

up. And that’s what we’ll do.”

“What you really need to do is arrest me,” I said. “I vandalized the

whole block. Go back on Beverly. Oh, and check the magical graveyard

at the dead end of Acacia. I destroyed that, too.”

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Pete turned to his partner and mouthed “a magical graveyard?”

“Jesse, don’t make this more difficult,” said Pete. “If we have to arrest

you–”

“Fine,” I said, stopping and thrusting my hands into my pockets.

“Arrest me.”

“Jesse, take your hands out of your pockets!”

I closed my eyes, trying hard to cast a spell on them. I flung out my

hands, holding them in front of me like a zombie. “Work!” I cried out,

wiggling my fingers at them.

“He’s a nut,” Pete told Ian. “Jesse, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to turn your head into a pumpkin.”

“Did you say you’re trying to turn my head into a pumpkin?” he

smiled. “Got it. You’re a boy with magical powers from the magical

graveyard. Could you turn Ian here into a pumpkin pie? I’m hungry.”

“Crapper!” I lowered my hands in despair.

“I know that word,” said Pete, thinking. “That one girl uses it all the

time. Hey, Ian, you remember that girl? Jesse, do you know the

delinquent Katie Pundeff?”

Very slowly, I poked my head into the car. Both officers flinched back,

stunned, nearly drawing their guns. I looked deep into Pete’s widened

eyes and sneered, “What’s wrong with you?” My voice was sonorous

and fearfully low. In a daze, Pete released the brake and rolled the car

forward before getting a grip.

I pulled my head out just in time to avoid being pulled along.

Pete put his car in reverse, though didn’t roll back, deciding to see

what I would do.

“Yes, officers?” I said, lazily loitering past.

He drove forward. “Jesse, I’m going to ask you to step aside,” Pete

spoke, sounding sincere and professional. “You seem mentally

disturbed.”

“You need to watch what you say, officer,” I said, restraining my anger

and keeping my eyes straight ahead. “People will retaliate.”

“Stop where you are! Now!”

“If you want me to go home, I will. Just tell me. Don’t speak about my

friend like a thug. You understand?”

“Get in the car!”

I made a run for it, dashing off between two homes, easily losing them.

I was not going to let my temper get me in trouble this time. That was the

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second time I felt out of control. I was actually becoming scared of

myself.

“What sort of police runs this city?” I grumbled to myself as I slowed

my jog up Fairview Avenue, breathing heavily like someone out of

shape, which I wasn’t. Why was I suddenly so worn out? Did Halloween

take that much out of me?

The atmosphere fluxed.

Great! If that was Jacoby behind me . . .

But it wasn’t. It was Dorian. He snatched my hand and closed his eyes.

“I’m not going back, Dorian,” I snapped at him. I wasn’t sure if I

should be mad at him, too.

“Jesse, we want you back at the house,” he said, sounding sick. His

orange face was covered with sweat, and his sparkling orange eyes were

bleary and half-closed. I couldn’t believe I was looking into his eyes.

“Where have you been?” he said, without taking his eyes off of me as

we walked to the highest point of the street.

“Where have I been?” I shot back. “Where has Jacoby been my entire

life? Did you know? Did he know?”

“Jesse, let me psyclin you back.”

“Why? I told you I don’t want to go back there.”

“Your father had reasons for what he did–”

“He’s not my father!” I blurted out, turning onto Westview, which I

forgot was a dead end street and had to turn back. “Dorian, did he

know?”

Dorian bowed his head when I glared at him, forgetting that it was

okay for him to look into my eyes.

“I’m not sure if he knew,” he said.

I searched his eyes; it looked like he was telling the truth. “And you?”

He trudged sheepishly just behind me like I was taking him down to

death row, so quiet I could hear him breathing.

He nodded.

“Since when?” I uttered, feeling my eyes well up with angry tears.

“And you didn’t tell me? When did you figure it out? Did you know

from the first time you saw me?”

Dorian remained silent.

“Dorian! When?” I persisted.

“I always knew,” he said softly to my face.

“Get away from me!”

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“Jesse, I didn’t want to get involved.”

“You’re my best friend! You, Katie and . . . Jacoby,” I forced out.

“You have to tell me everything, Dorian.”

“I will not lie to you again.”

“Dorian, I thought I had died! How would you feel?”

“You’re not dead.”

“I know. I’m just . . . so angry.”

“Will you let me take you home?”

I couldn’t go home. Jacoby would be there. If he had actually known

who I was from the start, I would never speak to him again.

“Okay,” I mumbled drearily. “But I don’t want you to psyclin me.”

Dorian caught up to me again as I turned the corner.

“Dorian, why did you ask me where I had gone?” I remembered. “You

asked as if I had been gone for a while.”

“You ran away. It’s been two days.”

“No. I just left the house ten minutes ago.”

Dorian searched my eyes. “It’s been two days,” he repeated. “Today is

November third.”

“No,” I insisted. “It’s the first.”

We both fell silent. Dorian kept on looking over his shoulder at my

neighbors’ yards. He stopped me twice, as if having heard something.

“Is something wrong?” I asked when Dorian stopped again at the

bottom of Valle Drive.

He nudged me up the street to my house and pushed open the gate. I

stopped, letting Dorian go in ahead of me.

“Tell him I will speak to him out here,” I stated. “I don’t want to be

near him.”

Then, catching the corner of my eye, Duma came shooting out from

around the house.

“Oh, hey, Stupid,” I greeted, watching him throw himself right into a

thorny hedge. He jerked back as though he had just run into a porcupine.

“Stupid.”

He lifted his head and bulged his eyes at me.

“Oh, yeah, I’m the loony one. I forgot. If you keep staring at me like

that, your eyes are going to stay that way forever.”

He shook his lithe black body, hissed at the air, and was off. The very

next instant I was hammered on the head with something big. Before I

could spin around, I was down on the ground. I knew who it was

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instantly, recognizing the strength in her brown arms. No person could

take me down like that . . . except her.

“Cat!” I was gasping for my life under her weight.

She released her grip on me and sat back on her knees. Her black hair

was a mess. I smiled.

“My head could have busted open,” I told her, still a little winded.

“I thought something happened to you,” she said in her lovely, angry

voice. She had a great voice. She was so great.

I heard a cry, and, before I could even look, I was mauled over by Oz.

“Jess, why do you keep doing this to me?” she cried. “Two days! Why,

baby?”

I didn’t know why everyone thought I had been gone for two days.

Was I so distraught after reading the letter that I blacked out?

Unlike Katie, Oz kept her hold on me.

“I’m good, Oz,” I assured her, spitting a strand of reddish-orange hair

out of my mouth.

She released me, looked me over and then hugged me again.

“Oz, everything’s good.” I looked past her at the outside entryway.

Through some subliminal connection with him, like a radar sensing his

presence, I knew exactly who just stepped outside.

Oz turned around, also able to sense him. Jacoby stood there, looking

at me with a blank expression. He exchanged a quick look with Oz. She

kept on staring at him like she still loved him.

“We need to have a meeting,” were the first words out of the man’s

mouth. He couldn’t ever express any warmth towards me. He could

never relent with a “hello” or “how are you?”

He walked back into the house, and Dorian waited at the door for me.

“I’m not listening to him,” I told Dorian.

“Jess, let’s see what he wants,” said Oz, escorting me inside.

Katie followed. Duma darted inside and ran down the long hall and

into my room. He quickly stepped back into the hallway, wondering

where I was, tilting his head as though confused why I wasn’t trying to

beat him there.

Dorian cautiously lifted his head and peeked outside, then quietly shut

the door behind us.

Oz and I sat on the shredded couch in the living room. It was musty

and dark. The two standing lamps didn’t do much to light the room.

I looked back behind the couch to see what Jacoby was doing; he was

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filling up two glasses of water in the kitchen.

“This is not his house,” I exclaimed angrily to Oz. It wasn’t that I was

mad at her. My anger was at the man inside my kitchen raising Oz’s

water bill. “I hate him,” I grumbled.

Jacoby walked in and set his glass of water on Oz’s antique glass table

in front of us. He handed Oz the other glass. Dorian stood in the corner

that wasn’t marked by Duma. Duma came in and stood in the hallway

entrance. Katie sat next to me on the couch.

“Melaskimel, sit,” ordered Jacoby.

What was he mumbling on about?

Duma scurried over and sat at Jacoby’s side in his regular tall stance.

“Who are you calling Melaskimel?” I barked at Jacoby, realizing I was

actually speaking to him. I didn’t want to address this jerk . . . but I

figured it was okay, as long as I wasn’t giving him respect.

Duma gave me his classic wide-eyed stare.

“His name is Melaskimel,” Jacoby pointed out.

“You’ve given my cat a new name?” I snapped. “He’s my cat, not

yours! You don’t live here!” Oz put a hand on mine. “His name is Duma,

not Melaskimelly.”

There was a short burst of laughter from Katie. She quickly quieted.

“Duma, get over here!” I snapped at him. Then I calmed my tone.

“Duma, come.”

Duma continued to give me the stare. I patted my thigh, but he just sat

there next to Jacoby. Why? Duma didn’t move an inch or open his mouth

for a yawn or a yowl. Jacoby had him in check. No one had ever done

that.

“I don’t think he likes the name ‘Duma’,” informed Jacoby.

“Stop this! That’s not your cat, Jacoby. He’s mine. I can show you.” I

shot up and went into the kitchen and prepared his favorite kind of

coffee: stale, tons of sugar and cream, molasses, no milk whatsoever, and

added orange soda. Everyone gaped back at me from the living room.

But no, I wasn’t loony! I was going to show them.

I finished and put it under the tablecloth.

“Duma!” I called.

He stayed put.

Why wasn’t he coming? He always came sliding to me when I was

making his coffee. He could smell it from my bedroom. I then noticed a

bag of black coffee grains on the counter. They fed him already. That

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didn’t matter because I knew one more thing I could do.

“Are you done, Jesse?” said Jacoby when I came back into the living

room.

I shook my head bitterly and stared at Duma. I made sure I glanced at

him a couple of times before I started walking to my bedroom. That did

it. Duma shot out of the living room and slid into the hall wall. I stopped

at my door, letting him fly into the room and beat me.

“That’s right,” I scoffed.

“Jesse!” I heard Jacoby say from the living room. “You proved your

point!”

I lumbered back in as Duma followed closely, almost running into the

back of my feet, but still he went over to Jacoby and sat next to him.

Stupid cat! I was going to spank him.

“Can you sit, Jesse?” Jacoby inquired.

“No, I’ll stand.” I waited at the entrance.

“Fine. I want to first say I’m truly sorry for having caused all of this.”

He was looking at my mom the whole time and she began to get teary-

eyed. “Becky, I want to apologize. What I did was wrong. I shouldn’t

have done it.”

I grunted. Jacoby turned to me.

“I apologize, Jesse. I know you’re mad at me. I hope what you read in

the letter clarifies why I had to do what I did. But now, I can safely say it

would have ended badly either way.”

“You don’t know that!” I said, praying I wasn’t going to start crying.

Oz began to sniffle, looking at me like I had been gone for ten years.

“Did you two get married?” I asked. “Did you buy that ring?”

Gratefully, Oz hadn’t put on her wedding ring. She looked to answer

my question with a sorrowful glance. Why would she marry that man?

Jacoby responded after a pause. “We were married with no witnesses.”

“So you lied. You didn’t want to sign the marital papers?”

He mournfully nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry, Jesse.”

“You left me!” I hissed. “No father should do that. I needed a father,

Jacoby. I wanted one. Did you know that?” I said quietly, but doggedly. I

waited for just a second, knowing he wouldn’t respond. “Did you know I

was your son before yesterday?”

Jacoby glanced over to Dorian, a little concerned. “Jesse, that was two

days ago. Do you mean before two days ago?”

“No. Why does everyone think I’ve been gone for two days? I roamed

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around the neighborhood. That was it. Dorian found me ten minutes

later. Cat, was I gone for two days?”

Katie took a while, but eventually nodded. What?

“Jesse, you may have zoned out,” Jacoby offered, “and fallen asleep.

Or your temper might have blurred your memory.”

Yeah, that was it. Jacoby was so smart. Like I could have zoned out for

two full days and not have a single person find me.

“Jesse, no matter what you think or want, you’re my son. Don’t think I

left you because I didn’t want you. You know I couldn’t risk your lives.

Yours, Becky’s, and Katie’s lives are very important to me.”

Oz was crying.

“What now?” I said rudely.

“A couple of days ago, when we were in Brazil, I caught Jack tibbling

Katie’s mind – a memory spell. I believe he has taken an interest in her,

as well as your birthmark.”

I looked at his mark, then at mine, comparing the two. They were the

same; a dark mark shaped like a hand. The only difference was that his

was on his arm and mine was on my leg. I didn’t give it much thought,

too worried about Katie.

“Why would he be interested in her?” I asked.

“Jesse, I told you. I don’t know.”

“You saw Jack?”

He nodded.

Something struck me like an arrow to the head. A rush of exceptionally

clear images of a forgotten event flashed in front of me. It was so vivid I

could smell and taste the air.

“So, you know what he looks like,” I said after this sudden flashback

of us at the Monster Mash subsided. “Then, why didn’t you speak up at

the Monster Mash when Katie had gotten Jack’s skin tone wrong? I

know it’s green.”

“That was for my personal reasons. I didn’t want a thousand questions

about Jack. And at the time I didn’t think it would matter if she missed

one. She was on her way to a victory.”

“What color is his skin?” I asked indifferently, knowing what I had

seen two years ago in Morocco.

“Green.”

“I knew I saw him that night,” I said to myself. Hearing myself say it

and knowing it to be true reassured me. “What does he look like?”

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“He looks young, but his skin is decaying,” Jacoby said curtly, looking

to end the topic. “Jack has taken a bigger interest in you. It’s not your

mark or that you’re a child of a halloween. For some reason, which

neither Dorian nor I can figure out, we know Jack strongly dislikes you.”

“What?” I mumbled, alarmed. “There has to be a reason. . . . Does he

want to kill me?”

Oz looked like every halloween word spoken was a new word to her.

But at this point she jumped to her feet in tears.

“Becky, he won’t harm Jesse,” Jacoby comforted her. His voice was

very tender. I had never heard him speak that way before. He seemed to

care.

Oz wiped her tears, looking like she wanted to go over to him.

“Jesse and Katie are a concern to him,” he continued. “They were in

the same place with a large number of dangerous halloweens, and he

couldn’t understand why. I don’t think he actually wants to kill them.”

There was a short shriek from Oz. She threw her hands over her mouth.

“No, not them, Jacoby,” she muttered, nervously swaying back and forth.

Katie was angry, or maybe really frightened. I couldn’t tell. It was hard

to read her sometimes.

“You told me he asked you ‘who are you?’” Jacoby said to Katie.

“He was asking Jesse that?” she said.

“I believe so. . . . But I wanted this meeting so I can talk about what we

need to do. For now, Katie, you will stay here. Dorian will take you

home to get whatever you need. Jack is now living outside of

Halloween.”

“Who’s this Jack?” murmured Oz.

“An extremely powerful halloween,” he answered in short. “Katie, go

with Dorian. You live with a single parent, yes?” She nodded. “Tell your

mother she may come back here with you if she has questions. I’ll

explain all of it to her. If she doesn’t have any, I don’t want her to come

over.”

Katie grabbed Dorian and they psyclined out of the living room. Oz

suddenly froze. She must have never seen someone psyclin before.

The entertainment center’s clock ticked.

2:00 AM

“Jesse? Katie will stay with you,” Jacoby continued. “I have cast a

spell on the windows. Nothing can get in. Dorian and I need to begin

paperwork on candy distribution that we must get to Forlin by next

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Halloween. He will be the head of the new government.”

Oz kept quiet, gradually catching onto things. Duma, or Melaskimel,

was up on his fours, still at Jacoby’s side.

“Is Duma a halloween?” I wondered, thinking it would explain some

things, but not his stupidity.

“He is,” Jacoby replied, looking down at the obedient feline at his side.

“I named him after the halloween he is. He has been living with Dorian

and me our whole lives until I left him with Becky. Would that be all of

your questions?”

I had more questions, but nodded anyway.

“I want you to offer Katie your bed,” he suggested. “You can use a

sleeping bag for yourself.”

“I always offer her my bed!” I snapped. “You can’t tell me what to do

because you’re not my . . .”

“I know, Jesse.”

“Yes, you should know.” I stormed out and went into my room. Duma

darted inside on cue.

I heard Katie and Dorian arrive in the living room and seconds later

Katie came in. She was carrying my backpack, stuffed with her clothes

and her taped up Bolivia poster.

“Hey,” I said shyly. Why was I acting all scared? I was a teenager. I

wasn’t a little boy anymore.

She said “hey” back as she emptied her stuff on the floor.

“I’m going to sleep on the floor,” I said. “My back is aching.”

“You want the bed then, no?” she said in a low voice.

Both of our voices were very soft and subdued.

“I read that sleeping on the floor helps straighten your posture.”

“Then I’m going to sleep on the floor, too–”

“No,” I hurried. “That . . . I was wrong. It hurts to sleep on the floor.

Wrong book – wrong, wrong, wrong.”

“You want to ease your back pain with some more pain?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

“Liar.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You want to take this outside?”

“No.”

None of us spoke as she unpacked, and I prepared for bed. She didn’t

have much and had all the same baggy clothes she always wore and a

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new fancy red shirt. I wondered where she got that.

She pulled her hair back and twisted and pulled it inside of her red

band. She was out of her witch gown and in a warm plaid shirt and giant

sweatpants, puffed out like an air balloon. She was looking taller. I

sneaked up to her while she was scratching the back of her scalp, and

stood tall next to her. She looked to be about five . . . I raised my hand to

where the top of her head reached . . . five-six.

“What you doing?” she asked.

“You’re taller,” I said, feeling my face warm up again.

“Sometimes.”

What the heck did that mean? That didn’t even make any sense.

Once ready, she crawled up in my bed, and I lay down on my sleeping

bag. Duma poked his head out at the foot of the bedcovers and scuttled

inside, making Katie giggle. Katie wasn’t a giggler, but over the past

year she had softened up a little. I wondered if I could beat her up now?

Anyhow, I liked her soft side, because she didn’t call me that many

names or hit me. I climbed into my sleeping bag, thinking about all the

things that had happened last Halloween–

Crapper, I had kissed Katie. My face felt hot, and I threw the covers

over my head. I wondered what Katie thought of that. I think it made her

cry. But she did smile. I was never going to forget that smile.

I peeked out of my sleeping bag; Katie was looking at a dirt spot on the

wall. I laughed, and she instantly turned around.

“Psycho,” she smiled, remembering.

I threw the sleeping bag over my head. Yeah, that was a smooth move.

I put the top back down and looked over. Katie was staring up at the

ceiling now. I saw her lips move. She had nice lips. I immediately closed

my eyes, squeezing them as tight as possible. How could the best looking

girl in the world be in my room?

“G-good night, Cat,” I said with a stutter.

She rolled her body around and stared directly into my eyes as Duma

poked his head out to see what was going on. It was too late to turn away

and too late to try to cover up my blushing.

“Night,” she said quietly. “Buenas noches.”

“Buenas noches.”

I set my head on my pillow, looking across the room, wondering what

she was thinking about. I couldn’t fall asleep, so I secretly wrote in my

journal. I didn’t write much; just one sentence: What do girls think

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about? This was the hundredth question I had written in the back pages. I

retraced over the sentence, betting that no guy knew the answer.

October, 2002

98. Why was Katie so desperate to get a boyfriend?

October, 2002

99. Is there an age limit on trick-or-treating?

November, 2002

100. What do girls think about?

After an hour, I lifted my sweaty face off the pillow and picked up one

of my watches. It was 3:23 AM.

“Jesse, you asleep?” Katie called out.

I tucked my journal inside my sleeping bag and rolled over; she was

sitting on the edge of the bed looking out at the dark lawn. Duma was

curled up behind her sleeping.

“You can’t either?” she said. “I think it’d be kind of cool, no?”

I sat up, not sure what she meant by that.

“You ever try doing magic?” she added. I shook my head. “You could

use it to our advantage. You could make worms fly into Sandy’s mouth.”

She half-smiled. I frowned, which caused her to frown, too. I just

realized I was a halloween and she was a human and Jack was now living

outside of Halloween, maybe resenting mixed relationships just as much

as halloweens did.

I made an involuntary moan.

“Hey, Jesse?” Katie said, finally turning away from the window.

I looked up just in time to see one of my journals fall out of my bed.

“Cat, don’t look at it,” I blurted.

“I didn’t,” she said.

I hurled myself over and slapped the journal shut.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

There was an awkward silence as I crawled back into my sleeping bag

with my journal.

“I never thought you’d still call me Cat,” she said.

“I told you.”

“Thank you, Jesse. Night.” She hurriedly tossed over, turning her back

to me. Her shiny black hair pouring down the side of the bed.

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Why would she say “thank you”?

“Why did you say thank you?” I said.

Katie waited a few moments before turning back around. “Just for

something you did on Halloween,” she yawned. I thought she was

blushing. I couldn’t really tell. Her brown skin was always rosy.

Wait, was she talking about . . . I flushed, too.

“I just wanted to say I liked it,” she said. My heart was pounding now.

I thought I felt a drop of sweat the size of a baseball roll down my

forehead.

She went on. I wished she hadn’t. “Thanks.” And then the most

frightful look of reaching a decision crossed her face. I knew what was

coming. My heart contracted violently.

She closed her eyes, and sighed in preparation, the right side of her

face swallowed by the pillow. She opened her eyes back up. “Have you

ever thought of going out?” she said.

What? Oh, my God, I was dead. I gave up on wiping the sweat

streaming down my face. It was pointless. What could I say? I wanted to

scream “yes” as loud as I could.

“I can’t,” I heard myself mumbling instead.

“Why not?” she said. “It shouldn’t matter.”

“What do you mean? It does. You can be killed.”

“Jack doesn’t care.”

“We don’t know that.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” she repeated. “I don’t care.”

“You don’t care if he kills you?”

“I do. Jack won’t care. Why would he? Don’t you want to?”

“I can’t be here,” I said, unintentionally sounding rude. “I can’t be here

with you.”

Katie lifted her head from the pillow, startling Duma. His eyes shot out

in all directions as he fell off the bed.

“I’m sorry. I can’t ever.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying, but it

was true.

“I like you,” she said, saying the words I had often dreamed about. “If

you want me not to like you, I will.”

I thought I was going to cry and took a second to try to hold it in by

pinching my eyelids closed.

“Jesse?” I heard her say.

I squeezed so tight that it actually brought tears.

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Stupid!

I pried my eyelids open. “I can’t. I can’t be around you. It might look

suspicious.”

“What about being friends?”

I swallowed and said, “We can’t be friends.”

I hurried out of the room and ran into the bathroom. Duma dashed in

after me just as I shut the door. The next thing I knew, I was laying in the

bathtub with Duma, about to fall asleep in a tubful of tears.

I woke up to the sounds of somebody knocking on the door. It was

followed by the sound of Jacoby’s voice. Had he slept over? He didn’t

live here.

“Jesse, you need to be ready for school in five minutes,” he ordered.

“What?” I shouted at him from inside the tub. Alarmed, Duma awoke

with a few defensive slashes and jumped on top of the sink. “I’m not

going to school!”

“Five minutes,” he said.

The door unlocked itself and swung open.

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CHAPTER TEN

I jumped out of the tub and slammed the door.

“School?” I said to Duma. “We don’t go to school.”

But Duma wasn’t there. He must have darted out before I had shut the

door. I didn’t want to go to school. I wasn’t a human.

The door opened. It was Becky, dressed in a thick woven blue pullover

and a long skirt. She must have thrown it on in a hurry because her

sweater was on backwards.

“Time to go,” she said, blankly handing me over a pair of like-new

tennis shoes. Her eyes were red and droopy, and she was a little fidgety.

“Oz, are you okay?” I asked.

Last night must have still been on her mind. It looked like it had

affected everyone except Jacoby, and there he was, walking into the hall

in pressed slacks and a black dress shirt. His full black mane was clean,

damp, and forcefully groomed, but still sticking up a bit like a black

shrub. He looked clean and smelled like shampoo. His face and hands

had been scrubbed so thoroughly that even his skin pigment looked a

thousand times whiter, making him look almost ghostly.

“Jesse, you didn’t change,” he said, sizing me up and noting that I was

wearing the same filthy pirate costume I wore yesterday, or what they

would refer to as “two days ago.”

“Oz, you’re taking me, right?” I turned to her, taking off my brown

vest and pulling a green sweater over my white dress shirt.

She hugged me tightly, and we walked to the door. Before walking

outside, I glimpsed Duma brawling on the kitchen floor, attacking his tail

like an adversary.

Oz pulled her car out of the garage just as Katie and Jacoby walked out

of the entryway.

“What?” I said. “You’re not going to school with me! Oz?”

“He wants to go with you.”

I didn’t want to talk any more about this stupid thing and walked

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around the back of the car and plopped into the passenger’s seat. Jacoby

climbed in the back, leaving Katie to enter on the other side. Becky

drove slowly and cautiously. She looked somewhat calmer. Jacoby

looked like a tall, pouting brat. He threw glances out of the window, but

mostly spent his time looking at the dull interior of the car and fiddling

with his safety belt, which he gripped the entire time. I laughed, and Oz

glared at me, even though she herself was frequently peering back in the

rearview mirror to see what he was up to.

Once in the parking lot, we were oddly reluctant to step out of the car.

Oz made me hug her twice. Katie had to as well.

I decided to keep quiet, letting Jacoby roam the school, having no clue

how to get to the front office. It took him thirty minutes to find it. Inside

the office, I overheard the principal and Jacoby exchange a few

concerned words about Katie being in a Sheltered Math class, which was

meant for the mentally challenged.

“Katie, these are your new classes,” he stated when he walked out of

the office, handing her a small pink slip.

I strained my eyes over Katie’s shoulder.

11/03/02

Principal: Mr. Tim Mountain

Vice Principal: Mrs. Alexa Hill

Katie Pundeff

PERIOD COURSE INSTRUCTOR

FRESHMAN FIRST QUARTER

Period 1: Pre-Calculus 1H Kaitlin Haar

Period 2: English 1-2C Lisa Leighton

Period 3: Spanish 5-6C Hillary Vasquez

Period 4: Computer Applications Don Haar

FRESHMAN SECOND QUARTER

Period 1: Pre-Calculus 1H Kaitlin Haar

Period 2: Physical Education Rubin Hopkins

Period 3: Social Studies Travis Capell

Period 4: Biology 1C Desiree Snell

These were her classes for the next two quarters. Jacoby stressed the

need to maintain a “B” average. Yes, he was crazy. I had a “B+” average

so far, and I actually studied. She didn’t. I turned in my homework, and

she either didn’t do it or turned it in only when she felt like it.

105

And so we went to Pre-Calculus, for which I had forgotten to bring my

homework. Outside the door, Jacoby forced us to wait for all the students

to enter the classroom. A few students halted unsurely and stared at

Jacoby, curious about a man dressed in black with crazy black hair.

Jacoby informed us that he was not there as my father, but a friend of

the family. He mentioned it twice, which meant that this was extremely

important because he never repeated himself. Halfway through his rant, I

walked past him and into the classroom, getting sick and tired of his

lecturing, and was struck square in the face with a wad of wet toilet

paper. Bert was in the last row, stifling a laugh, pretending to be

occupied.

“Jesse, what’s up?” Bert asked. “You have an accident with the toilet

this morning? Sucks.”

“You stink,” I said, removing the bits of wet paper splattered on my

cheek.

The class quieted as Jacoby walked over to my teacher, Ms. Haar, who

was twenty-three years old, with long blonde hair. She was the reason

why all the male students combed their hair and tried to act mature. I

don’t think anyone noticed Katie cross the room and sit in the open seat

in the first row.

Ms. Haar told Brooke Coffelt to fetch an extra chair outside for Jacoby.

She dragged it inside and nearly dropped it on Jacoby’s foot. When he

offered to do it himself, she blushed and took her seat.

“Where were you yesterday?” whispered Bert, leaning his head into the

aisle, but his eyes were glued to Jacoby, who set his chair down next to

me. He looked over the top of his glasses to get a better look. “And the

day before? Are you still wearing your pirate costume from Halloween?”

His eyes were back on me.

“I didn’t have time to change,” I said.

“So, what’s up with that dead man? Looks like somebody just shocked

him back to life. Jesse, there’s a tree branch in his hair.”

“Not so loud, Bert,” I hushed.

Bert hid his head behind mine and then peeked around.

“He’s my dad.”

“I thought your dad was in Hawaii? He came back? Okay, wait, your

mom and this guy . . . ? He’s so . . . corpse-like.”

“He got her drunk,” I lied.

Bert tossed his Californian silky brown hair out of his eyes. “You

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serious? What a crack head.”

“He’s drunk all the time.”

“Does he beat you? Is that why you have bruises and scars on your

arms? Whoa, that’s a big one!” His eyes were fixed onto my left shin.

My birthmark was partially visible because my pirate pants were

shredded.

“Yes,” I hurried, trying to hide it with my right leg. “He beats me.”

“It looks like a handprint – wait, Jesse, you got tattoos?” he blurted.

The students nearby leaned in. Wait, I didn’t have tattoos. What was he

talking about?

Bert reached over my desk and turned my left forearm over.

IRELAND FESTIVAL CLEAR

O

I knew the “Ireland Festival Clear” was the festival brand and the

round scar was what had once been burnt in around my spider bite, but

the double-ended arrow was a mystery.

“I don’t know how I got these,” I said.

“What does ‘Ireland Festival Clear’ mean? Are you Irish?”

Pretending not to hear Bert, I waited for Ms. Haar to get the class’s

attention before sliding my forearm under my desk to take a closer look

at the tattoo. Had I really blanked out for the past two days and gotten a

tattoo? I thought it looked more like a black scar.

“Okay, class,” announced Ms. Haar. “We have a new freshman

student. Katie Pundeff will be with us for the remainder of the year.”

Cathy Dollar, a short black-haired girl, raised her hand. “Ms. Haar, is it

Parent’s Day? I overheard Jesse telling Bert that man is his dad.”

Jacoby gave me a piercing look.

“Dude! What was that?” Bert snapped back at Jacoby, rocketing out of

his seat and taking off his glasses, towering proudly in his six-four frame.

“Bert, sit down!” demanded Ms. Haar.

Bert slowly lowered himself in his seat, mimicking a gangster,

however, throwing up peace signs and jutting out his chin. “Recognize,

son!”

“I am not his son,” informed Jacoby.

Bert unnecessarily pushed his desk out of the way and threw up more

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peace signs. “Peace, sucka! You want dis?”

The class giggled and chuckled.

“Bert, sit down,” Ms. Haar said impatiently. Bert sat back down.

“You’re in Pre-Calculus, not English. My students do not act like that.

Cathy, I’m sorry, it’s not Parent’s Day, whether or not Mr. . . .”

“Cob,” said Jacoby.

“Mr. Cob could you explain to them why you’re here? We won’t get

anything done otherwise.”

Jacoby explained to the class in a lengthy manner how he was a

District Supervisor who was auditing certain classes and that he was not

my father or my son. Soon, the students were bored and nodding off to

sleep.

Ms. Haar politely waited for Jacoby to finish. “Thank you, Mr. Cob. I

think they know plenty about you now.”

We were split into groups of four so we could finish up last week’s

worksheet. Katie was in my group and she struggled from the start.

Something was off though with the worksheet; I was positive that I had

never seen these problems before. But how was it truly possible for my

mind to go blank for two days? Magic? Could I have conjured up a spell

that backfired?

Strangely, Wendy Pinney was distant all period and had said nothing to

me other than a shy “hello.”

Next period was freshman English with Mrs. Leighton, my favorite

teacher and neighbor. It was my hardest class, no doubt. Putting words

together was like working on a Chinese puzzle. It was also intimidating

because half of the students were on the defensive line for our freshman

football team. Two had been bumped up to Junior Varsity. Luckily, all

my friends were in my class, Bert and his good friend, Amy, Sam the

basketball dribbler, the two cross country twins, Steve and George, and

Angela Alvarado, who was also in my Computer Applications class.

It was turning out to be an easy day. In Spanish, we had to take a

placement test, which had nothing to do with our class. Last period was

the worst. Computer Applications, the dullest class I had, and the most

daunting. Alex Haynes was in there, which meant Taylor Kerendian was,

too. They were two football players who were always around me.

The last bell rang, and I jogged to Oz’s car, which was a mistake. She

had found out about my violent rampage from the night before. Luckily,

none of my neighbors pressed charges. It was not until seven at night –

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four hours later – when I had picked up every knocked-over trashcan and

spilled garbage that Oz finally took me home.

The next morning at school I was grouchy and fed up with Jacoby’s

babysitting, so I told my friends everything about him. I had to explain it

more than once. They couldn’t grasp the meaning of a halloween, a

mystical creature that lives on Halloween. However, it wasn’t true for

Jacoby, so . . . I guess I could understand why it was so confusing.

Outside the boys’ locker room, during lunch, Bert, Amy and Sam

approached Jacoby, feeling confident they knew everything about my

life.

Bert poked a finger at Jacoby. “Uh . . . we know,” he said.

“Know what?” asked Jacoby.

“We know Jesse is a holiday.”

Amy punched Bert in the arm. “We know Jesse’s a halloween

halloween,” she corrected.

The following week, Dorian and I replaced the pumpkins and turnips

outside the house. The endeavor took us into the next week, the turnips

taking even longer than the pumpkins. The pearl-white vegetables

deteriorated fast and needed to be replaced once a week. I learned that

Dorian was an avid gardener and had regularly gone underneath my

house for the past ten years to cultivate the pumpkin field. I was

surprised he didn’t think of growing the turnips inside large pots so he

didn’t have to replace them every week. On the third week, he took my

advice and magically made four turnip plants blossom in seconds.

“Do these really keep Jack away?” I asked Dorian as I stared at a

happy-face jack-o’-lantern I had made.

Dorian was still scraping the seeds out of his pumpkin. It was tedious

for him and normally took him two hours to complete.

“No,” he answered, only half-listening, occupied with scooping out a

spoonful of slimy seeds. “A long time ago . . .” He whacked his spoon on

the newspaper laid out on the ground, trying to get off the last seed stuck

to it.

I grabbed his spoon and used my fingers to slide the seed off. He

looked at me with a look of bewilderment.

“A long time ago, an Italian farmer, the owner of two hundred acres of

harvested pumpkin fields, survived a town massacre. That night he was

carving a pumpkin in his cottage. He was never aware of the killings

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until the next day.”

“Did Jack try to kill him?”

“Likely not.”

With my work hours being cut immensely, I now had time to shoot

hoops with Sam and Bert. Because none of us had sufficient funds to buy

a basketball hoop, Bert forced his dad to buy us one. Whenever Amy

came over, she stank up the court, shattering windows and denting Mr.

Park’s sports car. Some days Katie would come over and watch with

Amy. They giggled like cheerleaders, but they came to play. No matter

how lopsided the games were, it was always fun to play. The last game,

we clobbered the girls twenty-five to two. Bert had swatted Amy thirty-

two times in ten minutes. It was the funniest thing to watch. Basketball

was my antidote against Jacoby, and I played it every day. Without it, I

don’t think I could have survived three months of school with him.

I felt good about life. It was going very well. The decision to not go out

for track was made by Jacoby because my grades had fallen during

basketball season.

Jacoby came into my room while Katie was teaching me how to

accurately pronounce “booty bejo.” We were sprawled on the floor next

to our history textbooks.

“Jesse and Katie, would you two like to come to the graveyard?” he

offered.

We slammed our books shut and followed him out. Everyone came,

even Duma and Oz. Duma was the first to enter the graveyard. He darted

crazily around the foggy grounds, going from one grave to the next.

“Someone recognizes his home,” said Oz, watching Duma hiss at

Charles’s gravestone.

We reached Jacoby’s half-destroyed cabin when he knelt down for a

second, looking sick. He flinched in pain, as if he had been struck by

something.

“Jacoby!” said Oz, kneeling down beside him, immediately worried.

“What’s wrong?”

Oz struggled to help him up. This was the first time I had ever seen her

touch him. She promptly let go, startled. His forehead was bleeding.

Jacoby and Dorian walked over to a long bench and sat facing each

other.

“I’m sorry, I felt a little off balance,” Jacoby said to everyone. He was

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lying.

“You’re bleeding,” said Oz, anxious for an explanation. “Jacoby, what

is it?”

“I felt the first death,” he admitted, wiping the blood off the bridge of

his nose.

111

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“What first death?” murmured Oz, walking up to the bench. Katie and

I stood behind her.

Jacoby rested his bloody hands on the rough wooden planks, nervous

and watchful. “Becky, Dorian and I are gravediggers,” he explained.

Oz looked to be retrieving an old memory. “You didn’t lie then: you

were gravediggers.”

“Who endure the deaths of others before they occur.”

“You endure their pain?”

“I’m fine now.”

“Many halloweens die every Halloween, don’t they?” I said, not

understanding why he looked so troubled.

“Yes. But I have never felt a death this early. Normally, we don’t feel

the first one until summer. It will grow from mid-August to mid-

September. By October fifteenth we will know the expected number of

halloween deaths. What does an early presentiment mean? I’ve gotten

one as early as May before, and that day’s toll count was normal. It could

be nothing.”

He left it at that. Jacoby and Dorian recovered a few things from the

rubble that was because of rampage, and we headed out of the cemetery.

Jacoby brushed by me on Acacia and told me that for the next three

weeks I was to rebuild their cabin.

The following day I spent four hours after school rebuilding the stone

walls with Dorian. I hadn’t realized until now how much damage I had

done. I had decimated an artistic masterpiece. It was like I had destroyed

the Sistine Chapel.

“I’m sorry,” I told Dorian while he moved through the rubble that had

once been a priceless depiction of a scene from halloweens’ rituals. “My

temper gets the best of me,” I went on timidly. “I’m scared of myself. I

can’t . . . I’m sorry, Dorian. How long did it take you to make it?”

The moment of bitter silence that followed deepened my discomfort.

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Had it taken years? Did it have a unique value to it?

I felt tears well up in my eyes. I was a bad person. I had killed a part of

their lives, something they had cherished. I was a murderer. A vicious

beast. I was not human, nor halloween. Much less a friend! My mind was

drifting me to a desolate land where I would live forever by myself. I

was doomed, and I could feel it coming. This was my prediction of my

life.

After a sleepless night of drowning myself in guilt, I dragged myself to

school with sunken eyes, which looked like they had been rubbed and

scratched for hours. I didn’t talk to anybody, and nobody wanted to talk

to me. Little by little, I recovered as the day wore on. By the time it was

lunch, I was playing around with my friends, Bert, Sam, Amy and Katie,

in the shade of a large tree. Their light-hearted chatter slowly lifted my

spirits. At the moment, Bert was telling Amy that trees were actually

weeds.

“A tree is a weed!”

Sam held his basketball in his lap like it was his baby. Katie was

making faces at me. She was amazing. I was never going to do a thing to

harm these people in any way.

“Hello, Jesse,” said a perky voice behind me.

Wendy strolled past me in a flirtatious blue dress. Her curly blonde

hair was longer than I remembered. She smirked at Katie, who hadn’t

noticed, too busy sneaking a handful of grass in Bert’s hair.

“I want to talk to you,” she said. “Get up.”

“Why?”

She pulled me up and dragged me over to the wall of the girls’ locker

room.

“What’s going on with you?” she started. “I thought we were dating,

but ever since Halloween . . .”

“I don’t–”

“Did Katie tell you something about me?”

“About what?” I said, confused.

“So she didn’t. I knew she wouldn’t.” She beamed a smug smile at me.

“You do something?” I asked, watching Wendy darting glances at

Katie and my friends. “What was Katie supposed to tell me?”

“Oh, nothing. We are still boyfriend and girlfriend then. And the spring

dance is–”

“Not any–”

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I looked over where Wendy was looking this time. Katie was looking

at us. It was a candid and apprehensive look, and it made me instantly

realize how much she meant to me.

“Jesse, stop looking at her.” Wendy grabbed my chin, turning my face

to hers, and kissed me. Stunned, it took me a few moments to pull away,

but she still kept a firm grip on my face. No. I pried myself away. She

eased her hands down my body and held onto my waist.

“W-why did you do that?” I mumbled, scared. But a sudden upsurge of

curiosity came over me. I needed to know who I was. Had I really

blanked out for two days after Halloween? Did Hale’s Tcl Cans have a

purpose? Why had Carole told me to let Wendy kiss me twice? She

somehow knew I would be going out with her. I had studied that middle

school memory the most. Remembering it clearly, I heard Sam’s and

Carole’s voice. “Don’t take your eyes off the back of my shoes.”

“It feels good to kiss you,” said Wendy.

I didn’t resist her hold on me, and she pulled my waist toward hers and

she pressed her lips against mine once again.

Allow Wendy to kiss you twice.

Allow Wendy to kiss you twice.

Allow Wendy to kiss you twice.

When Wendy finally pulled away, my lips slowly unfolded as though

they had been pursed onto hers for hours. I looked around to see Katie

sitting with her head bowed and Bert and Amy gaping at us, and Jacoby,

too. But where was the answer?

“I don’t get this.” I muttered under my breath, suddenly feeling very

sad. “There are no answers,” I cried out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” Wendy skipped toward Katie and threw

in the passing, “Hey, Katie.”

I swore under my breath, pushed my way through an assembly of

students, and walked off the grounds. I stopped at the top of Pasadena to

wipe my eyes. It was true: I was a bad person.

An hour later, I was in my bedroom, still in tears. I hugged my pillow,

feeling sick. Before going to my bedroom, I had to fight an urge to stomp

all over Snailville. I was a–

“Baby, what’s wrong?” muttered Oz standing over me.

“I hate myself,” I mumbled, gasping for air. Oz pulled me into her

arms. “I don’t want to go to school anymore.”

Oz held me tight.

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“Oz, I-I–” I muffled through a sob. “I kissed Wendy. Everyone saw.”

“On purpose?” she asked cautiously.

“In front of Katie!”

Oz didn’t say anything.

“I am a bad person. I don’t think I’m your son.”

It must have been the harshest words I had ever spoken, but it was true.

Oz would never have a child who was so bad. I walked down the hall and

scooted the rug to the side revealing the four holes. I grabbed a chair

from the kitchen and set it atop of the four holes. I removed the spider

picture from the wall, uncovering another hole, and pushed a broom

inside it. Hearing the pathway open on the other side of the wall, I

hurried inside, retrieving the lantern, and strode past the dark walls

carved with evil faces.

There I was inside the alcove of the Sequoia in the presence of the

breathing jack-o’-lantern moored into the redwood door.

“Let me in!” I cried, feeling the tears streaming down my face. “I know

you can hear me! Let me in there! I want to get away!”

The eyes fluttered opened, and a red glow illuminated the alcove. The

triangular eyes studied me and my spotted shirt.

“Why is that?” he asked, speaking in a reserved old voice, screechy

and slow, the kind an ancient chest would emit when pried open. I felt a

blast of icy air on my face.

“Let me in, please!”

“Why are you crying, my boy?” he said tenderly, yawning briefly to

clear his sleepy face. “There’s nothing in here for you. You know I once

cried, too?”

I lay down and curled up into a ball. “I’m bad, I’m bad, I’m bad,” I

sobbed into my lap.

“I don’t believe that,” I heard the pumpkin say. “Tell me, why the wet

face?”

I looked up. “When I think of who I am, I see a bad person. All I am is

bad. There’s nothing good.”

“Well, that’s hardly worth crying over. I once cried for someone I

loved who had died. I cried so long I wound up here. . . . I was once a

halloween.”

“What kind of halloween?” I said.

“A hana ghoul. I died of guilt. And here I find myself forbidden to

shed tears. It’s a curse I must bear. When I cry, I live longer, paralyzed

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and helpless, forced to watch the lives of others. Then, we can see that

we didn’t have it so bad, and it’s awful to blame yourself for things that

you just can’t help.”

“I could have stopped her,” I cried out, starting back up again. “I knew

what she was doing. I chose to let her kiss me. It’s my selfishness–”

“I saw you once,” he cut me off. “I remember you as a spooked little

boy. Can you stand up? My eyes hurt when I have to look so far down.”

I stood before the pumpkin.

“You’ve grown tree rings. . . . You’re a good man.”

“Men don’t cry,” I protested.

“Not true. I was a man when I cried. I wouldn’t be here if I were lying.

Men cry. Women cry. Children cry. And so do halloweens. If you have

never cried, you have never loved.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Ten years.”

“You must be bored?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you be if you had to live in a door? But I would love to stay

a little longer to see what happens to your parents.”

“In what way?”

“They were once a great couple.”

“Not anymore.”

“They still are. Let me tell you something: I liked your mother the

moment I saw her. She wasn’t scared. One thing I observed while living

in this door is how death can destroy a life. I am withering away because

of it. When Jacoby left your mom, she curled up in the very same spot

you are in now. She didn’t talk to me, but I was there for her if she ever

needed me,” he half-smiled. “She went a long time without eating or

drinking. In her mind, she was already dead, and so was the child in her

womb if she stayed like that. I told her a story, and she understood . . .

after you were born she was happy again. . . . She would come to my

door and put her face against mine, and my skin would wilt. Worry leads

to suffering and death. When you cry about something that can’t be

helped, you let death in. Will you wipe those tears of yours because each

one takes a day off my life.”

I dried my face roughly with my sleeve.

“Let me tell you another thing: Your dad is a very good man.”

“Does he come down here to see you? Does Oz, still?”

His eyes quivered. “No.”

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“Would you like me to bring them down?” I asked.

He stared blankly as a pumpkin seed rolled down his face. He grinned

thinly. “I’m glad he came back to her,” he said. “I do not need to see

them again. I am happy. My boy, can you remember one thing?”

“Yes.”

“Fight the urges to hate yourself. Don’t become a door in someone’s

home. Yes?”

“Okay.”

“Will you put your face against mine? I miss the feeling of soft skin.”

I hesitantly put my face against his.

“Thank you, my boy. . . .”

I lifted my face, feeling his skin rub off onto mine. His face drooped,

and the entire pumpkin shriveled away. The door was just a piece of

lumber now with a normal knob.

“Why did you tell me to do that?” I yelled.

Confused and depressed, I stayed under the house for hours, roaming

the pumpkin patch, the cemetery, and the dusty corridors of the two-story

house. I just couldn’t understand why he had me kill him.

I crossed back over the lily pad moat to look at the iron gate. The sign

read: “Halloween’s Hill.” Halloween’s hill? I traversed the wood of the

rickety bridge and walked back over to the hilly cemetery. Halloween’s

hill. It wasn’t referring to the creatures or the holiday. It was someone’s

name, and, whoever this Halloween was, this place was his hill.

I plopped down on a patch of grass next to the gravestone that bore the

list of names:

Aidan Beatrice Caronwyn Cameron Delwen TomáS Rowena Rossalyn Dallas Ainsley Fionna Edana Ailean Aili Aoife Sean Llyn Hagan Haley Gwen Elwyn Eilwen Alroy Deri Dara Jenna Gail

Jean Lair Leslie Sheila Ilisa Máire

“Jesse, I would like a word with you,” said Jacoby from behind me.

“What is this place?” I asked, looking out at the gravestones densely

studding the hillside. “Who are all these stones for?”

“I will tell you later,” he said. “I want you upstairs.”

I shook my head.

“Jesse, they are old Celtic names. These names, I believe, had

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importance in Halloween’s life. Will you get up now?”

“Is Halloween the very first halloween?”

“Jesse, there are too many questions down here.”

I pulled out a torn out page of my journal from my pocket and

scribbled down my questions.

March, 2003

123. What is the importance of the Celtic names on the

gravestone?

March, 2003

124. What is the first name of Mr. Halloween?

Jacoby watched me strangely as I tucked the page back into my pocket.

“Is this about Wendy?” I asked, following him over the bridge.

“It is. And it is about you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted answers. And I’m sorry

for destroying the art on your house.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“I killed the curse in the door,” I confessed. “That will be my last

wrong.”

I strode past him, making my way amongst the enormous pumpkins in

the pumpkin patch. I didn’t look back to see the expression on his face,

but he stayed down there for the night, forgetting about our chat. I fell

asleep in the bathtub and somehow Duma got in and fell asleep on my

face.

In the morning, I took a long cold shower and walked to school by

myself, getting there an hour before Jacoby and Katie. Katie and I both

got a “D” on our last test in Pre-Calculus and received no participation

points in Art.

At lunch, I was moping on a flower box with Jacoby and my friends,

none of us having said as much as a word, when Katie excused herself to

get a sip of water. She picked one of the newer fountains, so cold you

could get a brain freeze. Taylor emerged from his group of football

players and walked up to her.

“Jesse, stay here,” said Jacoby.

It was too late. I had gotten up with Bert and Sam and ran behind a

nearby hedge. Taylor’s jersey’s sleeves were rolled up, showing off his

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muscular arms.

“Hey, Katie,” he greeted.

With bated breath, I waited for one of them to speak. All of a sudden,

Taylor flipped a dozen red roses from behind his back.

“I got tickets to a play downtown,” he said. “I thought you might want

to go as friends. Nothing more. I know Amy has been home for the past

week with the flu and thought maybe you could use an extra friend.”

Katie was quiet . . . for a whole minute.

“Yes,” she replied.

“What, the big bird?” Bert stood up, gaping with an opened mouth.

Sam laughed, which made Bert burst out laughing and ram into me,

making me fall over the shrub.

“What you doing?” snarled Katie. “You eavesdropping on me?”

“Sorry,” I said, picking myself up as though I weighed three-hundred

pounds and shuffled away to last period.

Sorry for being alive, I thought, slumping dismally in my chair, resting

my chin on my crossed arms. Don Haar gave us a free period to do

whatever we wanted. I fell asleep. When I woke up, the track coach was

standing over me. He was tall and lean with a bald head.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said. “You would really be

helping our team. The practices are only an hour every day, and–”

“Okay,” I somehow spoke without opening my mouth. I was tired of

being a problem to everyone, and I did love to run.

The coach grinned. “Our first track meet is tomorrow. They’ve got a

fast Varsity mile team. I think you can get second.”

“Varsity?” I muttered.

“Yes.”

Why would he think I was good enough to run with the seniors? I

wasn’t.

Because Jacoby and Katie had to go wherever I went, they were stuck

following me to practice. I was happy about that, but I couldn’t stop

thinking about Katie on a date with that muscle man, Taylor, who all the

cheerleaders liked.

“Go!” a voice shouted in my left ear. “Jesse, go!”

119

CHAPTER TWELVE

I had been staring at Katie and Jacoby in the bleachers for the first lap;

they looked grumpy, annoyed to be out in the blistering sun. Katie was in

her favorite skateboarding sweater and baggy brown shorts.

On the dirt track, the Varsity mile team was ahead of me, just curving

the first turn on the second lap. I swiftly ran forward, struggling to catch

up. I sprinted as fast as I could and soon shot past them. When I hit the

end of the third lap, I slowed to a walk. My legs were tight and

throbbing, and my ears had popped. Seconds later, the team passed me. I

put my hands at the back of my head and looked up at Katie and Jacoby,

hoping they weren’t laughing. They weren’t even looking at me, instead

watching a flock of foreign red-bellied crows flap down onto the football

field. What were they doing here?

“Jesse, keep running! You got one more lap!” I heard the timer yell.

Why don’t you run it yourself, timer boy!

The last lap was easy as I decided to jog like a granny, instead of

running it. I made 5:32, compared to 5:01, the best time on our team. The

timer encouraged me by noting that, had I not given up and dawdled for

100 meters, I might have run a mid-four-minute mile. He also explained

to me that the top miler at our rival school averaged 4:20; the second best

average in the county.

But I didn’t run a mid-four. I ran a mid-five. It was a big difference. I

walked home after practice to cool down.

Oz drove the car at a crawl beside me. Jacoby and Katie were in the

backseat.

“How are your legs?” she asked at the top of Normal.

“Better,” I said.

“You going up Windsor or staying on Normal?”

“Windsor.”

“Good job today, Jess.”

“What did I do?” Yeah, what did I do?

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“Jacoby tells me you ran a good mile. You only walked once.”

“But you’re not supposed to walk at all during the race.”

“Oh.”

The month passed quickly between running track and fixing Jacoby’s

and Dorian’s cabin. Every day after practice I headed straight to the

graveyard and toiled away. It was depressing too, knowing I had brought

this upon myself.

Our first track meet was a disaster. Taylor sat next to Katie and Jacoby

on the bleachers while I was running the mile against the second top-

miler in the county. I was ten yards ahead of him on the second lap.

When I reached the far side of the track, where the infield bleachers

blocked my view of Katie, I sprinted as fast as I could to hurry back to

where I could see her, so I wouldn’t miss anything. The crowd was

cheering for the final stretch of the third lap.

“3:07!” someone blurted.

I barely paid attention to the time, shaken at the sight of Taylor putting

his arm around Katie. I was so startled by the scene. I forgot to turn the

curve and ran straight into a concrete rail bordering the track.

The rival team got the top four spots and pulled in all the points. Our

wins in the sprints and jumps didn’t make up for their sweeping triumphs

in the shot put, pole vault, and long-distant races. I left the meet drained

by failure and with a swollen lip. I was never going to lose again.

The regular season track meets had all passed, and I was waiting for

the League Championship. It was merely five days away, and I felt good,

having run okay times, but most importantly, consistently coming in

first.

It wasn’t until after school that I realized that the pumpkins outside my

window were smashed. I replaced them, and the next day someone

smashed them again. Who would go around smashing pumpkins? And

not just smashing them, but beating them into a pulp.

I paced room to room all night, constantly keeping an eye on the

pumpkins outside the windows. I stayed at my windowsill with Duma

staring out until two in the morning, but saw nothing more than bat

wings and heard the sounds of crows scuttling around the rooftop.

Katie was not in the room with us at daybreak. She wasn’t even in the

house or at school. She had gone home. She stopped caring about

everything. Her grades were looking bad, barely a “D” average. Principal

Mountain pointed out to her that if she didn’t pass the upcoming math

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test in three days, she was to be put back into Sheltered Math, and he told

her she would have to get an “A” to pass the course. Not a “B+” or an

“A-”, but a solid “A”. With Katie and me in separate classes, Jacoby

wouldn’t be able keep an eye on the both of us. This didn’t sit well with

him. Not helping this fiasco, Jacoby gave Katie a two hour speech about

getting herself together, which was stupid! That was only wasting her

study time. I tried going over to her house because she sure wasn’t

coming over here anymore, but she didn’t answer the door.

The following day, I found out that she hadn’t studied, and she ended

up failing the practice test I made up for her.

It was a little after two. Duma had fallen asleep on the windowsill. I

knew I couldn’t stay up the whole night this time. I did one last

inspection of all the pumpkins before falling asleep by the front door.

In the morning, every single pumpkin had been crushed. It wasn’t like

last time. The pumpkins seemed to have exploded. Skin and seeds were

plastered all over my neighbors’ yards. There was something creepy

about all of this. Everyone was alarmed. Jacoby had brought Katie back

to our house before sundown, and Duma was acting unusually jumpy,

always at Jacoby’s side, pricking his ears at the slightest sound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katie stepped over a splattered jack-o’-lantern and headed down

Pasadena, carrying the backpack Becky had let her borrow. She’d stuffed

it with her parents’ clothes, toiletries, and her math work. She’d studied

hard for the test yesterday and had still failed the practice test. She knew

she wasn’t stupid, but she just didn’t have a photographic memory all the

time.

Katie was never going back to their house, not after overhearing Becky

and Jacoby talking about a second mortgage. Jacoby’s night job at a

cemetery in Rancho Bernardo underpaid him because he wasn’t a citizen.

Katie felt like a burden.

She unrolled today’s newspaper and walked across the living room,

skimming the headlines. One made her stop.

“It’s Raining Pumpkins and Turnips!”

By Lauren White, STAFF WRITER

LA MESA – It is not Halloween yet, nor is it the

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month of October, but this hillside neighborhood

found their streets littered with smashed pumpkins

and turnips. Yesterday, a nonchalant resident

admitted, “This neighborhood really gets into the

Halloween spirit, but not usually to this extent.

Probably just a couple of bored high school kids

playing a prank on one of their friends.”

Crystal Robinson, a soon-to-be preschooler, asked

her mother if it had rained pumpkins. The popular

phrase “It’s raining cats and dogs” may have found

its successor. This is one of many bizarre stories to

have turned up in the past two years. According to

Crystal’s mother, last Halloween, “pumpkins soared

through the sky like cannonballs in the Caribbean.”

These locals may need to purchase pumpkin tire

chains because here the weather forecast through mid-

next week is expected to be overcast with a slight

chance of raining pumpkins and turnips.

Katie turned to the television set; Channel Ten news was on. A

newscaster in purple was rapidly dispensing the evening news.

“Other news, an English professor outside his La Mesa home had the

privilege of observing an Indian House Crow bathing in his Jacuzzi.

Sadly, the discolored bird, found only in the eastern hemisphere, didn’t

live through the night and was found floating in the shallow end of his

neighbor’s swimming pool the next morning. . . .”

Katie went upstairs and threw herself onto her broken mattress. She

unraveled the math sheet from her pocket and studied the first two

chapters. The Chain Rule and derivatives were easy, but limits and

trigonometric integrals sucked and were as useless to her as listening to

Sandy. If this limit equals this, then the graph and the line get closer and

closer – Crapper! All the mathematical terms were clogging and slowing

down her brain even further, and she already could barely concentrate

with everything else going on in her life. Jesse was always on her mind.

She couldn’t sleep because of it and for sure couldn’t sleep in Jesse’s

room with him so close by. The more she looked at him, the more she

cried, realizing most dreams didn’t come true. She didn’t know what to

do. And now there was Taylor, who was okay, but no Jesse.

She rolled over and was poked in her side by a broken spring. She

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curled up into a ball and started crying.

Crapper!

Why hadn’t she told him that Wendy had cheated on him?

Crapper! Crapper! Crapper! Die Crapper!

She fell asleep on her left arm.

Waking up with a big yawn, she tiptoed downstairs and fetched the

study guide she’d angrily chucked out the window the night before. For

the remaining two hours, she reviewed all the questions she knew how to

solve, which were only 30 of the 50 problems. Crapper! She was

screwed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat down in math, rubbing my sore legs. Coach Boob thought it

would be good for me to jog three miles this morning to help loosen my

legs. Was he stupid?

The more Bert poked my arm and called me “number one,” the more I

perspired and thought about the League Championship – but where was

Katie? She had the biggest test of her life waiting for her. She couldn’t

just run and hide all the time.

She came in with Jacoby ten minutes after the bell. The test was tough.

I felt confident on twenty of the thirty questions, and guessed on the last

three. When I turned to Katie to see how she was doing, her seat was

empty. I scanned the room, but she wasn’t there. She couldn’t have

ditched–

“She finished already,” grinned Ms. Haar.

“She did?” I said, astonished. “Did you grade hers yet?”

“From the looks of it, she got it all right.”

I smiled my special Katie smile; a big smile that could probably cure

cancer. I found out from Amy in second period that Katie had earned her

stay in Pre-Calculus, missing only one question. I couldn’t help but

glance at Katie in every class. She didn’t smile, looked really tired, and

had a pillow crease across her left cheek. She really looked really good

though. Her beauty never waned.

The race went well. I ran my personal best coming in at 4:32. It was

only because Katie and Jacoby weren’t there. He was having a custody

argument with Sandy, which he had no chance of ever winning.

I made it to the CIF championship, which included all the top runners

in San Diego. I came into the race with my most recent time of 4:24 at

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the CIF prelims. The CIF program had written a short paragraph on the

event. I read it while standing outside the gate with the other milers

waiting to be called onto the track.

1600

National Leader: *Simon Elbert (3:57) TX

State Leader: Paul Crow (4:07) LA

*Junior **Sophomore ***Freshman

This year’s one-mile line-up is remarkable, promising an exciting and challenging

race. Running only his fourth race of the year, after overcoming knee surgery, Daniel

Jones of Escondido set another personal best of 4:10 last Saturday, placing him behind

Paul Crow’s state-leading 4:07. Other contenders are Ray Felix (4:12) of El Cajon and last

year’s CIF winner, Rick Poland (4:17). Amongst the new faces, freshman Jesse Jayden has

continued to shed seconds off of his time in the last six meets and, with his competitive

spirit, sports critics believe he is a solid contender for a medal.

Competitors: Daniel Jones (4:10), *Ray Felix (4:12), Rick Poland (4:17), Glen Snow

(4:19), *Brett Lewis (4:19), **Anthony Venegas (4:21), John Coleman (4:22), *Tim Jordan

(4:23), ***Jesse Jayden (4:24), Michael Turner (4:27), Hank Leabo (4:28), Richard Barrett

(4:29), Alternates: Cole Grant (4:31), *Lucas Daimon (4:33)

TOP THREE QUALIFY FOR STATE PRELIMS

I then reread the section to fuel myself with some last minute

inspiration. My adrenaline was flowing. I was ready. I stepped onto the

all-weather track, following behind thin Tim Jordan. Leading the pack

was Daniel Jones and Ray Felix, both short and skinny. The crowd was

on their feet, still hyper from the dramatic finale of the girls’ mile.

I looked up at the stands. Amy, Sam and Bert, all excited, were holding

up banners, just a row below Jacoby and Oz.

FRESHMAN POWER CHARGING UP

WHOOP WHOOP!

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Basketball #22

Don’t run into the fence, Dead Boy!

I could only assume Jacoby had made Bert try to erase “dead boy.” He

was sitting with Oz a row bellow Katie. As I lined up, I saw Taylor sneak

up behind Katie. What was he doing here?

I heard screaming somewhere, but I wasn’t trying to listen. Amy, Sam

and Bert were huddled together. They knew about Taylor. Amy flung up

a new sign.

JESSE! THEY ARE STARTING!

I turned back just as the gunshot went off and chased after the sprinting

milers, zipping around the curve at a mad speed of a 200-meter sprinter.

The first lap was an extremely fast lap, and the track announcer up in the

sky booth called out, “Fifty-five seconds! What a first lap! Daniel Jones

is a meter in the lead – fifty-eight, fifty-nine – one minute for Jesse

Jayden. . . .”

One minute? I was going out too fast. But where would I be if I were

running any more slowly? Fifty yards behind them? And Daniel did his

first lap in fifty-five seconds? That had to be a record start.

I slowed my breathing, feeling it starting to pick up.

As I came around the second turn of the second lap, just catching up

behind the pack, I slowed my pace enough to look up in the bleachers.

Taylor was trying to scoot closer to Katie. He didn’t get an inch closer,

though. Bert had purposely fallen onto his lap and gestured me with his

fingers to look down. Amy and Sam held up another sign.

EVERYTHING IS OKAY WITH YOU KNOW WHO.

WE GOT YOUR BACK. JUST WIN!

Daniel and the pack were practically a half stretch ahead of me. I

strained my legs and pumped my arms, and did my best to narrow the

gap by the end of the second lap.

“Two minutes!” the stadium’s speakers spoke. “2:01, 2:02, 2:03 . . .

2:05!”

I was too tired. My body was trembling lightly and I was feeling light

headed which I usually didn’t feel until the end of the final lap.

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I heard Dorian’s voice coming from the infield. “Jesse, would you

want me to tie Daniel’s shoes together?”

I smiled, understanding his intention, though it caused me to falter into

the outside lanes. Spectators gasped.

“And Jesse almost runs off the track!” the commentator announced.

“He’s gathering himself up – here he goes, coming back strong – what a

stride!”

I controlled my breathing and picked up my pace, focusing on a tall

lanky runner ahead. The crowd rose to their feet as the pack turned onto

the last stretch of the third lap. Once I came out of the turn, whizzing

ahead at top-speed, as if motorized, I glanced up at Katie and Taylor. But

I couldn’t see them. Bert had gotten on his tiptoes and pushed a new sign

high above his head so I couldn’t see them. He was laughing with Amy

and Sam. What was so funny? I looked at the sign.

You want me to punch Tay?

Peace sucka!

Stop looking up here Katie Lover.

I stumbled and lost my balance.

“Oh! There goes Jayden, staggering . . . he’s about to fall – but stays on

his feet – he’s good! . . . I don’t know what he was looking at.”

I caught my balance and kept on running. Katie jumped down a row to

look at the sign, but Bert dropped it down before she could.

Down on the track, a brunette girl was striking the final lap bell.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! . . .

“3:17!”

I lifted my knees and straightened my arms, sprinting along with quick

calm breaths. The crowd on both sides of the stadium cheered and blew

their horns. As I shot around the first curve I was thirty yards behind

Hank Leabo. I maintained my fast pace while taking a moment to enjoy

the loud raucous crowd growing louder. I hit the last curve and passed

Hank and Michael Turner . . . and Tim Jordan.

“Here - comes - Jesse Jayden!”

Athletes on the infield stopped to watch.

At the end of the curve, my ears plugged, and it became hard to hear. I

didn’t glance up at my group because I didn’t want to fall. And then . . .

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I passed another runner and another and another. I was flying past

them, pretending the crowd was chanting my name and believing my

legs weren’t cramping up and were still as fresh as they were in the

morning. I couldn’t lose.

“Freshman, freshman, FRESHMAN, FRESHMAN . . .”

I passed Glen Snow and Brett Lewis, two superb runners. I was closing

in on the leading two milers, in their own battle for the first place.

I am going to win, I encouraged myself, despite the fact that I wasn’t

winning. I was losing. My eyesight was failing, and my leg muscles were

tightening. I was fading out. I didn’t think I was even turning my legs

anymore.

Feeling tears gush out of my eyes, I closed them and let myself fall.

I was doomed, and I could feel it coming. This was my prediction of

my life.

I slammed hard against the all-weather track, scraping to a stop with

my whole body. The silent crowd watched the runners run through the

finish line.

Someone helped me to my feet. “Look down,” I heard Dorian’s voice

as the crowd went wild.

I had fallen onto the finish line.

“You won, Jesse,” said Dorian.

I didn’t smile, but not because of the pains in my muscles or my skin

stripped raw–

“Dorian, did you help me win?” I whispered, wiping my tears. I knew I

looked like a lunatic talking to myself.

“No, you did it all by yourself.”

And then the smile came, right as a crowd of medics rushed across the

field towards me.

“He must have an angel at his side,” the guy medic told one of his

coworkers. “Jesse, who were you talking to?”

I looked up at the scoreboard that was listing the times. It had already

showed my time, but after the last runner’s time, it flashed mine again.

CIF CHAMPION

1600 METERS

4:06

JESSE JAYDEN

FRESHMAN

----------------------FASTEST TIME IN THE STATE----------------------

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“I’m guessing those are tears of joy?” said a short man with a

microphone. All of the stadium could hear him speak. I didn’t reply.

“Jesse, you have exceeded all expectations. You have the best time in the

state, ranking fifth in the nation. Without those mishaps during the race,

you could have run a four-minute mile. What I would like to know is,

what was going through your head when you were flying towards the

finish line?” He held the microphone close to my mouth.

“I . . .” Out of breath, was all I could think of. It felt weird hearing my

voice throughout the stadium. “I was thinking . . . I don’t want to lose.”

The crowd laughed.

“I think if I lose, I’m doing wrong,” I added.

The commentator left it at that. He wished me good luck at State and

went on his way. Dazed by deafening cheers and congratulations, I no

longer knew who was speaking to me. The next thing I knew I was in

Oz’s car, being driven home. Bert, Amy, Sam and I were all scrunched

up in the back, celebrating. Jacoby was up in the front seat.

I was about to ask where Katie was, when Bert announced, “Guess

whose birthday it is today.”

At the same time, the back seat started singing “Happy Birthday.” Oz

looked like she wanted to chime in, and Jacoby looked like he thought

my birthday was some other day.

When we got home, Amy told me to stay outside so she could prepare

a cake. Everyone went inside while Duma and I sat on the grass,

watching crows roam the street. Dorian psyclined outside every few

minutes to check on us.

“They sure are taking a long time, Duma,” I said, wondering how long

it took to make a cake? Making batter didn’t take long. The baking itself

was . . .

Duma skittered under the fence, startling the crows before he had a

chance to attack. Stupid. I lay on my stomach, with my arms under my

chin, and watched him from my yard. He was a great-looking cat. I

couldn’t believe he was a halloween, though. He sure acted stupid.

He began to yowl at the birds up on a telephone wire.

“Duma, stop whining, they’re not going to come down,” I said, turning

over on my back. “Crows are smart.”

Duma climbed on top of me, sat on my face and closed his eyes. He

sluggishly fell onto his side, then crawled onto my stomach and made

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himself comfortable. “I know you’re not asleep. I’m not stupid. Duma?

Duma?”

He played dead so well that I nudged him. His eyes didn’t open. Nor

did he move. What a goof.

I looked back at the house, thinking I had heard something, but it was

just a few leaves blowing up against the pumpkins planted underneath

my window. How can anyone be scared of a pumpkin? Katie did say it

reminded Jack of his eternal life.

The western sky darkened, and dusk descended, blackening the yard.

Uhmm . . . what should I think about now? . . .

How about Repel Shield? But I first needed pumpkin seeds, one onion,

minced, and–

I shot up, and Duma flew off of me, shooting wild looks in all

directions.

“Repel Shield?” I said to him. “What’s that? Pumpkin seeds? An

onion?”

I stared oddly at Duma, who returned the stare and then darted inside. I

returned to the pumpkins under my windowsill and grabbed a medium

size pumpkin. Katie needed one. I couldn’t have her at her house

unprotected for even a second. Why hadn’t Jacoby and Dorian made her

put pumpkins and turnips outside her house? Why let her go home by

herself? Why leave me outside unwatched? Why anything, really? The

whole thing was getting a little old. If Jack hadn’t come yet, he probably

wasn’t coming.

I peeked inside her dark house and rang the doorbell. No answer.

“Katie!” I called at her closed window anyway, but then remembered

she had a date with Taylor tonight. Dang it! Crapper! Why was she going

out with that guy?

What if she was home and just didn’t want to answer the door? Then

again, what was I going to tell her if she did answer? Oh, I thought you

needed a pumpkin. Now you don’t have to worry. Yeah, that would

sound convincing.

I rang the doorbell one last time as I readjusted my grip on the

pumpkin. After another minute, I set the pumpkin on the doorstep. I ran

back and retrieved three of the smallest ones and carried them back to

Katie’s house.

Duma came bounding down Pasadena with a pumpkin seed in his

mouth.

130

“Thanks for coming,” I said sarcastically, watching him frisk the small

yard. “You can put the seed you brought at the back door.”

Duma scuttled over to my side. I put a pumpkin at the back porch and

put another on the ledge of a side window. Now, as for Katie’s

window…

“Duma, what do you think?”

He stood at attention at my feet like he did with Jacoby. “Thanks. I

agree completely. So, how am I going to get this pumpkin up there? –

where are you – Duma, don’t go in that burrow!”

Duma stuck his head inside and came out a mess. I brushed some of

the dirt off of his face as I thought of something. I smashed the pumpkin

on the driveway, grabbed some of its pulp and threw it at the window.

Got it perfectly on the first try. Half of what I threw stuck. The whole

window was covered with stringy seeds.

“That should be good. What do you think?”

“Jess, what are you doing?” said Bert behind me.

“Just decorating,” I said.

“I know it’s your birthday and you’re a CIF champ, but now you’re

just acting crazy – hey, got some more?”

“No.”

“Come on then, the cake’s ready.”

I ran home happy, knowing that Katie’s home was now protected. We

must have looked like a funny trio running up Pasadena: Bert, a skinny

giant, and me, reeking of pumpkins, and Duma, a spastic cat, peeing on

the hood of every other car.

The chocolate bunt cake was even better than last year’s. Bert had used

his fingers to spell “winner” and was the first to shove his present at me,

which wasn’t wrapped. He had given me Katie’s pillowcase.

“Now you can feel her all night long,” informed Bert.

Amy shook her head dismissively.

I got a gift from everyone. Even Katie had dropped off a gift,

something wrapped in plastic grocery bags. Bert popped the air out of the

bags with a knife, egging me on to open it. I pulled out a folded piece of

paper. There was nothing else.

“Jesse, what is it?” blurted Bert. “Read it. Maybe she wrote she likes

your butt in those tight shorts Boob makes you wear.”

I pocketed the note. “I’ll read it later,” I announced, opening the giant

gift from Dorian, Oz, Jacoby and Duma. It was the black chest box

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containing liosellion holograms.

Oz hugged me, holding me in her arms for a while. I only gave Dorian

a quick hug, knowing he hated them. Bert and Sam hauled me over to

Jacoby and forced me to hug him, too.

Amy got me two movie tickets to some romantic comedy and

explained I wasn’t to take Bert or Sam.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have a talk with Cat,” she whispered in my ear.

“So read us what Katie wrote,” insisted Bert. “Everyone knows you

like her.”

“He doesn’t have to read it, Dirt,” Amy scolded him.

“Yeah, he does, we’re his friends,” he stated, pretending to be angry.

“What goes on with him goes on with all of us. Isn’t that right, Sammy?”

“Kind of,” Sam mumbled, handing me his gift, a brand-new basketball.

“Sammy, where did you get the money for that?” asked Bert in awe.

“You don’t have money.”

“My brother,” he said quietly.

“You stole it from him? You nuts? He’s in college. He could pound

Jesse’s face in.”

Sam looked embarrassed. I handed him back the basketball.

“Sorry, Jess,” said Sam.

“It’s alright,” I said.

I walked out to the living room, telling them I’d be back in a minute. I

plopped on the couch, and Duma swaggered to one of his marked

corners. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I was alone and then

unfolded the piece of paper.

Come to the Mexican restaurant downtown at 9

Why would she say that when she was on a date with the macho man?

“Come on, let’s go, it’s ten til!” said Bert, standing behind me.

Sam and Amy walked over, as if on cue.

“So, are you going?” said Amy. “What if she ditched the guy and is

sitting there all alone waiting for you in that beautiful dress your parents

gave her?”

“A candlelight dinner,” smiled Bert. He puckered up his lips and made

kissing sounds. “She’ll let you kiss her nice full lips and touch her long

black hair, which you said shines like–”

Amy elbowed Bert.

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I didn’t know what else to do, but go. None of them would dream of

missing this, so we all rushed downtown. Katie was there, sitting alone

on the restaurant patio near a tall furnace.

“Told you,” said Bert, peeking over a parked car. “When you go over,

kiss her and say ‘I’ve loved you since you picked up my runaway

supplies on Normal,’ then say ‘let’s kiss the night away–”

Amy punched Bert. He jokingly dodged and ducked like a boxer.

“What, Amy, you want to fight?” he taunted.

“Get a girlfriend,” she growled.

“I can’t. They all think I’m with you. They probably think you’re

going out with all three of us. Dirty, dirty, dirty.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Okay, Jesse,” she explained

carefully. “What you do is ask her to another table – but don’t sit down

before she does! You push her chair in just as she takes a seat.”

I was starting to sweat. I kept my eyes fixed on Katie. She was wearing

a red sweater and black pants. Her long hair was tied back, and she had

her hands tucked inside the sweater’s sleeves.

“You got it bad,” Amy observed calmly. “Bert was right: you do love

her.”

Not listening to her, I fanned my track sweater trying to dry the sweat

spots.

“Jess, you’re making me sweat,” said Amy. “Stop trembling. She likes

you too, you know. You do know, right?”

I looked wide-eyed at her, trying to process this strange notion. I had

never taken Katie’s words from the day after Halloween seriously.

“Well, she does. I know this kind of stuff. I’m a girl.”

Bert jumped in. “You are?”

She tried to kick him and instead kicked Sam.

“Oh, sorry, Sammy,” she whispered.

“That’s my friend,” said Bert, throwing up peace signs. “Now I’m

going to have to beat you up!”

“Shut up, Bert.”

Bert stopped.

“Now, Jesse, after you push her seat in, tell her you’ll be right back.

Don’t get all mushy, she won’t like that. At least I don’t think she would.

Then, you go find your waiter inside and tell him her name so he knows

it, and then it’s like you had planned this all along, not her. Tell him to

bring out a candle – don’t elbow me, Dirt!”

133

It wasn’t Bert. It was Sam. He tapped her again, trying to get her

attention. Taylor had walked on the patio.

We all crawled around the car and peeked over the restaurant fence.

“How cold is she?” Bert said, not whispering. All of us dropped our

heads.

“You’re so beautiful,” said Taylor. “You’re, like, the finest girl in the

whole school. I wanted to tell you that.”

And I wanted to punch the guy.

“I want to tell you something,” said Katie.

“Okay.” He sat in a free chair next to her. “Dang, you’re fine. Not one

cheerleader is–”

“Taylor, stop! I’m going to dropkick you!” she threatened.

Bert leaned forward, so he wouldn’t miss a thing.

“Yeah, I did have a great time at the play,” she went on, “but–”

“You don’t like shows because we can’t watch each other,” Taylor

finished her thought for her.

Bert pretended to puke.

“Jess, tell me when,” said Sam.

“We’ll mess him up real good,” Bert added, “and let you watch.”

We turned back to the scene.

“You have great lips, Kate. You want to–”

Katie pushed herself out of the chair, and Taylor planted a kiss on her

lips.

I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. Bert side-wound himself and

pitched a pebble over the garden fence. It curved with the wind and hit

Katie in the neck.

“Hey!” said Taylor, instantly tearing away from Katie, who looked like

she was going to hurt someone. “Whoever threw that is going to pay! I

dare you to do it again!”

Behind the fence, Sam and Bert were gathering up curb garbage:

sticks, soda cans, soggy newspaper, a stiff rag, and a plastic bag with a

half-eaten salami sandwich.

“We have to run up close,” Amy whispered, “so we don’t accidentally

hit Katie.”

Bert counted with his fingers: One, two, three . . .

They all rushed the table and chucked the curbside trash at Taylor.

“Peace, sucka!” shouted Bert, watching a wet salami roll off of

Taylor’s forehead. “Run, everyone!”

134

Our instinct was to do just that. There was no time to stand around and

apologize. Our lives were more important than our dignity. Bert

screamed like a girl. We crossed the trolley tracks and split up, scattering

in all directions. We met up behind a broken-down camper at the dead

end of Acacia. I showed up last, feeling light-headed. I thought I was

going to . . .

And then I barfed up my chocolate cake and cream soda.

“I thought you milers were better conditioned than that?” said Bert.

“Dirt, be quiet,” said Amy impatiently. “You know why.”

“Maybe I’m just a better miler than him,” he told her, grinning.

“His lover just kissed someone else. How would you feel?”

“His lover?” he laughed.

“Don’t be stupid. You okay, Jesse?” She patted me on my back as I

continued throwing up.

“Jesse,” Bert wondered, “you think Katie invited you there to show off

her kissing techniques?”

“What?” Amy said, almost laughing.

“Look, Amy, I’ve known Katie a long time. She likes to hurt people.”

“Dirt, be quiet! She’s a good person. I think Katie didn’t want Taylor

to–” Amy crouched next to me. “You feel more coming?”

“Jesse, let’s go shoot hoops at my house,” said Bert.

“I’m going home,” I said faintly.

“It will distract you from–” Bert was interrupted.

“Jesse, we all understand,” said Amy.

Amy nudged Bert and Sam to get going. I picked myself up and

trudged up Beverly like a zombie. When I got home, I climbed in

through my bedroom window and shut the door, beating Duma inside for

the first time in my life. I collapsed on my bed, burying my face in my

pillow and soaking it with tears. Doomed. Crapper. My grim prophecy

was coming true. And – just as it had once been conveyed to me in a

vision of deep etchings in a stoned road – I was going to be told that I

had no purpose in life.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Duma had slipped inside my bedroom from the crack in my closet and

sat at the foot of my bed. I screamed at him to get out. I had never done

anything like that to him before, and he darted away. I climbed out of

bed and stared out the window. Dark clouds drifted low to the ground,

flowing over flattened pumpkins and turnips. Yesterday’s pumpkins

were missing from below my window and by the gate.

I cautiously cracked open the front door and peeked into the entryway;

the pumpkins that I had placed on the doormat two hours before were

gone as well.

“Who is doing this?” I muttered, lingering in the doorway, hesitant to

venture out. The air was chilly and damp. I stepped back inside and

locked the door.

Duma caught up to me as I shuffled across the kitchen floor, keeping

very close. What if the two pumpkins in the backyard were gone like the

others?

I let the kitchen door slowly swing open and peered around the door,

hoping to see any kind of pumpkin skin. I wouldn’t even mind if they

were smashed, just as long as they were still there.

“Please, please, please,” I prayed, “let it be right–”

They weren’t there. I scanned the flower garden. There wasn’t a trace

of pumpkin seeds. I went out into the yard, stooping against the cold.

“Who took them?” I demanded of Duma in a quivering voice. He

meowed as the wind picked up, brushing up against the side of my leg.

He never meowed.

“I know, Duma, something’s wrong.”

I stepped backward, watching the wind knock down oranges from an

orange tree, and then headed back inside. “Come on,” I gestured to

Duma.

Duma scurried inside, and I locked the door. Passing by Oz’s bedroom,

I pushed the door open on Oz and Jacoby embracing each other. Dorian

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was sitting cross-legged next to the bed.

“W-what,” I stammered, “what are yooou doooing?” I ended up

yelling.

Oz took her head off Jacoby’s chest and turned to face me.

“You - said - you - can’t!” I yelled. “What are you doing?”

No one said anything. They didn’t look right.

“Why are you all looking at me like this?”

“There are now fifty deaths,” said Jacoby.

“So?” I exclaimed. “Fifty deaths, that’s not that many.”

“It will get worse–”

“Then that’s your problem.” I paced back and forth, wanting to break

something. I stopped in front of Jacoby. “Don’t touch my mom again!”

“Jesse, where are you going?” inquired Jacoby. “You can’t go

outside.”

“You think you can stop me?”

“Jess,” said Oz, alarmed. “Listen to him.”

“Don’t take his side.”

“If you tell me you’ll stay inside,” Jacoby proposed, “I promise not to

touch Becky.”

“No.”

“Jesse, this is important.”

I stopped at the doorway. “Who took the pumpkins from all the

windows and doors?”

Getting no answer, I dashed to my room, feeling something terrible

was going to happen, and fell onto my bed in helpless rage. But the bed

was too comfortable, and I hated it, so I lay on my side next to my desk

instead.

“I hate everyone,” I murmured to my cat as he came in. “I hate

everyone, Duma.”

I fell asleep and woke up to a thump on the roof. Duma was up on all

fours in the middle of the room, his bulging eyes fixed on the

windowpane. He looked like he had been frozen in that pose for hours.

Heavy storm clouds hung low over the hill. The yard was still and

gloomy. Time was at a standstill in this ominous night . . . like the village

of the Hollowks . . . Hollowks?

I shot up as the memory surged through me. It was like a kick in the

head, coming on so hard, that I had to grab one of the legs of my desk to

steady myself.

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<you asked why Katie is in our history>

Images shuffled through my memory in fast-forward. Having trouble

enduring them, I cowered against the desk.

<Jesse, a note for you: Two nights ago, Jack discovered

Katie is one of the five remaining Descendants> <this will

be the last time you will see Katie alive

No, no, no, no, . . .

I made a sudden and unexpected jerk.

Duma must have felt the danger because he shot out of the room as

though he had seen a werewolf.

I didn’t know where the text came from. I just knew this was a genuine

memory: I had seen those exact words before.

“Where’s Katie?” I leaped to my feet. “Jacoby and Dorian aren’t

watching her.”

I pried open the window using my shoulders and jumped out,

staggering across the wet grass, feeling as if the heavy exertion of a lucid

nightmare was weighing upon me.

I spotted an untouched pumpkin buried under thick weeds and picked it

up. Fighting back panic, I hurried out of the gate and ran barefoot down

the cold vacant street.

She’s okay. She’s okay. “She’s okay, she’s okay.” My body was

shaking in the freezing air, making me drop the pumpkin twice. When I

secured it in my hands, I saw Duma standing inside a half-smashed

pumpkin in my neighbor’s front lawn, staring at me, with a gooey seed

hanging from his lips.

“What are you doing?” I said, desperately trying to hold back my

anger. “Duma!”

He gave me his bug-eyed stare.

Two minutes later, I was at Katie’s house. The front door was

unlocked. I barged through and peered through the dark living room.

“Katie?” I called out. A thud came from upstairs. “Katie?”

I scrambled up the stairs and pushed the door – tried to push it;

something was wedged up against it inside. I leaned back and rammed

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my shoulders into the door, dislodging the mattress that secured it shut.

“You okay?” I gasped out of breath, smiling dumbly.

“Get out,” she snapped.

I caught my breath, feeling I needed a second to calm myself. I wanted

to touch her skin. I wanted to hug her, just to make sure I wasn’t

dreaming.

“You’re okay,” I mumbled.

“Get out! Taylor’s coming over in a second–”

“What – why?” I blurted.

“Because he asked me if I wanted to go to–”

“But – but it’s late,” I went on feverishly. “You can’t . . . where are

you going?”

“In the morning, we’re going to his cabin in Big Bear.”

“You can’t!”

“Get out, Jesse. He’ll be here soon.”

“Please, don’t go, Cat,” I said quietly.

“Get out!”

I lowered my head and stared at the pumpkin I was still clutching to

my chest. “Could I stay until he comes?” I asked.

“Why are you here, Jess?” prompted Katie, watching me keenly.

“I-I wanted to bring you a pumpkin,” I said, “and make sure you were

okay.”

“I am. So drop the pumpkin and get out. Taylor wants to beat you up.”

Unfazed, I looked at her window. “Where are the pumpkin skins?”

“I cleaned them up – where are you going?”

I stopped at the door. “To check outside your windows–”

“I trashed the pumpkins.”

“You trashed them? Why?”

“So you’re the one.” She was angry. “I knew it was you. Get out of my

room.”

“Please . . .”

“Go!”

Her anger drove me out the door. I stuck my head back in. “Don’t go

outside, okay?” I noted.

“I will be,” she said. “You going to leave, or just stand in the

doorway?”

“There’s something out there, Cat.”

“Stop calling me Cat. I don’t like it.”

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“You don’t?”

“No.” Katie plopped herself in the corner.

“Don’t go out with him,” I pleaded sadly, inching back into the room.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Why?” She looked up. “We’re not going out.”

I turned away from her.

“You’re going out with Wendy Pinney.”

I put my hands onto my knees, feeling dizzy. I was going to throw up.

“If you puke in here–” she warned me.

“I’m not. I’m fine.”

“You know what, Jesse . . .” she stood up. I stood up, just because she

did, readying myself for anything. “I’m going to wait outside.”

“No,” I prompted.

“Then leave.”

“I am. But can I ask you something?” I reached for something –

anything – to buy me more time.

“What?”

“Uh . . . why did you give me that note? It hurt me.”

“I invited you there because I was going to break up with Taylor.”

“You kissed him,” I stated, confused.

“No.”

“You did.”

“He kissed me. Now you going to leave?”

“Can I stay downstairs? I’ll hide in the cupboards.”

“Crapper, Jess.”

“Okay, I’ll leave.” I kicked her mattress on the way out, frustrated with

everything, and a stack of papers flew out. Familiar papers . . .

“You stole my journal?”

“I . . .” she hesitated.

“It’s right under your bed! You stole them! Crapper!”

I wanted to hit something. Just to make contact. Now, I wanted Taylor

to come.

“Did you read them?” I said. “Tell me the truth.”

She nodded.

“Did you take them?”

She hesitated at first, but then said, “Yes,” and came face to face with

me. She was so close to me that I had to take a step back. I hadn’t been

that close to her in a while.

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“I like you,” she said. “There. And what’s wrong with us being

together when we hang out all the time anyway?”

I thought she was about to cry.

“Because it’s different,” I said.

“Why kiss me then?” she asked, as though she’d been waiting forever

to say it. “You kissed me.”

“I don’t know.” Even though I did know.

“Do you like me or not? I’m tired of all this. I’m willing to risk death.”

“I’m not willing to risk it.”

“You wouldn’t die for me?” she pressed on.

What? Why was she talking about death?

“We’re not even going out,” I said. “We can’t–”

“You’re my best friend. Would you die for your best friend?”

“He . . . will kill us,” I said sadly. “Jack will kill you.”

“Then protect me!” she screamed through tears. “Because I can’t stand

being away from you! I was lying about Taylor coming over. I dumped

him. I don’t ever want to be with anyone but–”

“Katie?” I cried, wanting to hold her and kiss her. “This will be the last

time I’m going to see you alive.”

I don’t know how I got that out, but I did.

“Jesse, I don’t get it.” She looked genuinely scared.

“I saw the writing. Jack knows you’re a Descendant. He’s going to kill

you.”

Tears streaked down her brown face. “Together forever?” she got out

just as a frightful shriek came from downstairs. She froze, only her eyes

shifting, fearful of what was coming. I peeked out the door to see the

hallway in complete darkness.

My arms were trembling, and my heart was pounding. The goose

bumps and chills ran up my skin as a dark presence loomed into the

room. My memories were real. This was the last time I was going to see

Katie alive. This was the end.

Katie tipped over and struck the floor, disappearing as if she had fallen

through the wooden boards. . . .

“You can’t take her!” I screamed.

I scrambled on my hands and knees, sweeping the ground with my

hands, trying to feel for her. She couldn’t be gone. I was destined to be

with her. Together forever.

“Don’t t-take her f-from me,” I stuttered frantically through the most

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violent fit of sobbing.

There were light footsteps. . . . I could hear each individual step creak

the floorboards. I rubbed my blurry eyes, following the sound to the

door.

“Katie?” I muttered. “Katie, I can’t see you?”

At last, I could focus, just enough to make out a human shape. It was

Katie, hanging upside down, held up by her ankles. Her body coiled as if

she was being throttled.

“Katie?” I crawled across the floor to her as . . .

Rain started falling inside the room, despite the ceiling and the roof

above our heads. Through the downpour I saw an outline of a tall, reedy

body as tall as the doorway and hunched over like an old man. It was

him. . . . I couldn’t make out his face or the color of his skin, but I knew

this was Jack Ottaggaemenel, the darkest and most feared halloween who

had ever lived. For a minute, all I could hear was his sonorous breath.

Suddenly, he gave Katie’s body a dreadful jerk, and she went limp . . .

nothing moved; she just dangled upside down and was taken out of the

room.

“Give her back!” I bellowed.

I got to the stairs and fell down, tumbling out into the living room. I

got up and reached for the lopsided pumpkin . . . there was still hope. . . .

She was mine.

I hugged the pumpkin to me and walked forward in a trance, passing

by Sandy’s body, twitching on the kitchen floor.

“Katie, you there?” I asked into the shadowed living room. “Leave her

alone. Please.”

There was a short scream outside. When it came to an end, I knew she

had been taken from me. What Jacoby had once said was true: one life

taken could end another. And so, my life ended here.

I ran through the streets, calling Katie’s name. I was going to find her.

“Give her back to me!” I shouted furiously, running down an

unfamiliar street.

Unleashing my vicious temper, I kicked in a car window. My anger

had grown to its full capacity, surging through my limbs, causing me to

psychotically lash out at the air.

“I hate you . . .” I kicked in another car window. “I - HATE - YOU!”

“We need immediate assistance up here on Pasadena Avenue,” I heard

a commanding voice say. “Son, step away from the vehicle!”

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I put my foot through the passenger side window, shattering it. “I hate

you, Jesse!”

“Step away now!”

Two police officers had their guns drawn on me, but I didn’t care,

circling around the beat-up car.

“Drop what’s in your hand!” one officer shouted.

Sirens echoed through the streets, coming from all directions. Three or

more patrol cars zipped up to the scene and blocked the streets. I was

surrounded. Fully armed officers ran out of their vehicles and crouched

behind the trunks.

“Give her back,” I threatened, stepping forward.

“He’s not aware of us,” the older officer said to his partner.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not talking to us–”

“Drop your weapon!” ordered a voice over the intercom. “We will take

you down if you don’t cooperate! We will shoot! I repeat, drop your

weapon!”

Using all the strength and fury left in me, I screamed, “Give her back!”

Gun pouches unsnapped, and searchlights flared onto me. “Drop your

weapon!”

Weapon? I didn’t have a weapon.

A tall officer rattled into a portable radio clipped onto his chest. “We

have a fifteen-or sixteen-year-old male demonstrating severe symptoms

of schizophrenia, or perhaps extreme intoxication. He’s gripping an

unidentified object in his right hand. . . .”

Another patrol car pulled up at the scene, and two cops hopped out and

ran to the commanding officer. It was Pete and Ian.

“I know him,” said Pete. His curly thick mustache was freshly

groomed. “His name is Jesse Jayden. He lives on Valle Drive.”

“We have reports that Jesse Jayden has attacked a local resident.”

“Sir, Sandy Robbins is fine–”

The turmoil continued as a flock of Indian House Crows invaded the

area and was now waddling amongst the cops.

“Drop your weapon or we will shoot!”

The moment I showed them the pumpkin skin, they immediately

knocked me to the ground. I didn’t care if I was going to jail. However, I

cried all the way to the police station, deranged and incoherent. For a

while, I couldn’t remember the reason for my grief. When I finally did, I

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all but disintegrated in the fingerprinting room. I tucked my hands under

my drenched shirt and curled underneath a bench lining the wall, waiting

for them to prepare the ink pad. I was a mess, smelling like trash and

vomit, coughing my heart out like a dying man. Nothing made sense

anymore.

“Jess?” I heard a wavering voice. It was hoarse and shaky like mine.

“Oz?” I cried. “H-he took her. I don’t want her to die.”

I heard another voice, crisp and stern. I looked up at Oz and Jacoby

standing over me and slowly picked myself up from the floor.

“Oz, I couldn’t save her,” I muttered, feeling my eyelids droop shut.

I fell in and out of sleep for the next few hours, all the while that they

were signing release papers and taking me home. I couldn’t think, or

listen, or move.

I awoke in the living room. My eyes stung badly. I screamed, and was

immediately comforted. Oz rocked me and softly whispered comforting

words. Jacoby and Dorian stood opposite of the glass table. I was too

dazed to search for Duma, but I knew he was in the room.

“Jesse, it’s important you cope with this,” said Jacoby. “We need to

know what happened.”

“Katie’s gone,” I rasped out, pulling away from Oz. “I have to go find

her.”

“Jesse, we don’t know what happen. Katie’s gone where?”

“Jack took her.”

“Did you see him take her?”

I nodded quickly. “We need to go – we need to find her.”

“We don’t know where he lives.”

“W-what? You don’t?” I broke into another ugly scream. “T-then what

do we do? How do we find Katie? We have to find her, Jacoby.”

Jacoby didn’t respond.

“Say something,” I snapped at him. “Tell me we can find her!

Dorian?”

Dorian muttered something under his breath.

“Jesse, we just wait,” Jacoby said, visibly upset by his own words.

“Wait?” I said hopelessly. “I can’t wait. I need to go.”

“Jesse, Dorian and I will eventually find her.”

“E-e-eventually? . . . No.”

“Jack has taken her and we can’t do anything else–”

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“Yes! We! Can! Don’t you ever say that to me! I will see her again!”

Oz pulled me to her and wept.

I spent the whole Monday morning with her in the living room,

mourning and raving and sleeping. Jacoby and Dorian left the house

periodically, coming back to check on us every so often.

I awoke from a long nap. Oz and I were both still on the couch. She

was asleep. Her eyelids were red and swollen. It was dawn. Jacoby came

in. His thick black hair was frizzy and forcefully matted. The top of his

forehead was marked with a dried streak of blood.

“Jesse, I can’t have you missing school,” he said.

“I’m not going anymore!” I snapped.

“Jesse!” he barked back. I had never ever seen him so moody before.

Ever. It silenced me. “We’re not giving up on her. You’re sitting here

moping like she’s dead already.”

“No, I’m not,” I groaned through my stuffed nose.

“Jesse, I know. I need you to go to school. Dorian and I are doing what

we can.”

“What?” I wondered. “Tell me. I want to help.”

“It’s some very tedious map work.”

“Let me help! I want to save her! . . . She wanted it.”

“There’s nothing you can do at this point. I need you to go to school. I

know it doesn’t seem right at the moment, but–”

“You think she’s okay?” I interrupted, not caring to hear his

explanation. I hoped for good news, secretly hoping he would lie if he

had to.

“I don’t know,” he said. “You don’t have to change, but I want you to

clean up and wash your face.”

I stumbled over to the bathroom. I tried to lock the door, but my hands

didn’t obey me. What did it matter, anyway?

I did the best I could to rinse my sleep-creased face and scrub my dirty

arms. Jacoby escorted me out to the car. Oz was gripping the steering

wheel with both hands, looking straight ahead. It was a warm day, and

the sun was out. I couldn’t believe it. I hated nice weather.

She drove very slowly down Pasadena and Normal. It took us twenty

minutes to get to school. Cars honked and jetted around us. She parked a

street before the school and wept softly.

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Jacoby walked me to Statistics, stopping at the door. He looked out

onto the baseball fields and then turned back to me. The school grounds

were empty. Everyone was already in classrooms.

“I need you to keep doing your school work,” he said, not looking like

he meant a word of it.

I nodded gloomily.

“No more tears,” he concluded, propping the door open.

Somehow crossing that doorway meant giving up.

I planted my feet stubbornly in the doorway, repeating to myself that

Katie and I were going to be together forever.

“Jesse,” said Jacoby sternly.

“I’m not going in. Katie’s not gone.”

Jacoby closed the door. “Katie’s strong. She’ll make it.”

“Not without me.” My eyes watered.

“What did I tell you? No more.”

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I took in a long breath and walked in. I didn’t look up, but I felt the

stares. I walked to the back of the classroom and dropped in my seat. All

I could do was sit there and stare at the ground.

“Jesse?” It was Bert. “Where’s Katie?”

I pulled the top of my shirt over my face.

“Quiet, class,” said the teacher. “You’re still working on page twenty-

two.”

I began to make out whispers.

“You know what happened?”

“Where’s Katie? She get shot?”

“I heard they suspended her.”

“What if she’s dead?”

I don’t think I remembered anything else from that day. I did

remember, however, that I didn’t participate in school or talk to anyone.

Oz would find excuses to check on me. It wasn’t my grades, but rather

my physical state that worried her. I was becoming deathly ill. Insomnia.

Loss of appetite. Depression. I was in a bad way, feeling nothing and

doing nothing.

“I feel lost,” I rasped through my raw vocal chords. I was sitting

outside my bedroom window alone, watching Snailville going about its

business. No matter what the circumstances, the snails slugged the same

speed, quite unaware of the horrible world they lived in.

I picked up a slimy mollusk and watched it protrude its two feelers.

“Are you scared?” I asked it. I broke into a sob.

“Baby, you okay?” Oz kneeled beside me and gently lifted my face

towards hers with both her hands. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I miss her so much,” I stammered.

“Jess, you’re going to catch a cold. Let’s go inside–”

“I don’t know who I am. . . . I threw a snail into the street. I’m going to

go find it.” I stood up, soon spotting the cracked shell. “I’m sorry,” I

cried, cautiously picking it up and dusting the dirt off its shell. I turned

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back to Oz, still holding the snail in my hand. “Oz, I want to go to

Ireland. She may be there.”

“Why do you think that?” she asked.

“A halloween saw him come from there. I’m packing my bags.”

“I’ll talk to Jacoby–”

“No! Just me.”

“You can’t go alone.”

“He won’t let me go. . . . He’s not doing anything to find her.”

“He is, Jess. Have you seen him? He looks terrible. He hides it from

you. Dorian’s the same. I don’t think they have slept in a week.”

Oz took me to school while she explained how she had overheard them

talking about visiting Spain in a couple of days.

“Why wait a couple of days?” I exclaimed. “They should go now.”

“Kiss,” said Oz.

I leaned over and kissed her goodbye. “Will Dorian be watching me?”

I said.

“He said he’ll stop by off and on. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“Okay.”

Hesitant to drive away, she accidentally let the car roll back a bit. I

loved my mom. She was a good woman. In the past, I would have teased

her about her poor driving skills, but today neither of us could summon a

smile. She fumbled with the car a second, finally put it in gear and drove

off.

The subject of Katie was subsiding at school, though I would hear it

every now and then. That day, the class’ attention turned to the snail in

my hand. Cathy Dollar asked Mrs. Leighton if it was My Pet Day. Of

course it wasn’t.

“What are you doing with that snail?” asked Bert cautiously.

I tucked the snail underneath my desk. “Nothing,” I said, watching

Amy walking over.

“Uh . . . Jesse? Bert and I want to know what happened to Katie?”

“Yes,” said Bert.

I waited until we were put in groups of four to tell them. Bert, Amy,

Sam and I were all together for the first time since Katie’s disappearance.

I told them everything. Amy cried, and the guys were speechless. The

class knew I had told my friends what had happened, and now everybody

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was anxious to know the truth.

Mrs. Leighton came to our table. “Jesse, would you like to tell the class

what you have told your friends?” she said.

I shook my head.

“Was it concerning Katie? I would also like to know where she is. If

she’s having problems at–”

“She was kidnapped,” I said.

Mrs. Leighton shrieked, stumbling backwards. The reaction of the

class was oddly subdued and morose, like at a funeral parlor. However,

Amy, Jennifer Sanchez, Angela Alvarado and Mrs. Leighton herself

were all in tears.

“Ya’ know the kidnappa?” asked Justin Hibbler, who was secretly

smart and an after-school boxer.

“Jack,” I grumbled.

No one reacted.

“Katie never punched me,” confided Sheena Higgs after a long pause.

“Me neither,” announced Valerie Rivadeneyra in the back.

“Yeah,” added Ashlee Stephenson, a pudgy blonde. “She only told me

to get out of her seat. She never hit me. She’s nice.”

I was seconds away from walking out when Jacoby showed up. Oz was

right: he was a sight, worse than a homeless person. I could smell his

unwashed socks and make out the grime underneath his fingernails. His

hair was unkempt, dirty, with patches of dried blood from a new cut on

his forehead. He was back in his forgotten shabby brown pants and

billowy black T-shirt, revealing the mystical birthmark on his left arm.

The class wasn’t startled by his neglected appearance, only by his

tardiness.

“Come with me,” he ordered.

A little while later, I caught up to him on Normal. Bert, Amy and Sam

came too, knowing Jacoby was taking me somewhere important. He

didn’t say anything, so they continued tagging along.

“I need to inform my mom if I’m going to be home late,” Amy

mentioned to Jacoby.

“Be prepared,” I told her, knowing Jacoby wasn’t going to reply.

She quickly ran home with Bert and Sam.

Oz was already home, waiting with Duma underneath the square

opening between the kitchen and the living room. My friends arrived

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seconds later, holding baseball bats.

“I told them to be prepared,” I explained to Jacoby.

“They’re not coming,” he said.

“Mr. Jayden, I’m Katie’s friend,” said Bert, taking a step forward,

grasping his bat with both hands. He was the first non-halloween to be

taller than Jacoby.

“Yeah,” chimed in Amy and Sam.

“I’m sorry, you three, but I can’t put your lives at risk,” he ended.

“Jesse, have them go home–”

Bert pointed his bat at Jacoby. “I know you’re a halloween and that

you’re Jesse’s dad and Becky’s husband. I know about Dorian Kel and

that you two are gravediggers. I could go home and tell my parents.”

“He would do that, too.” I seconded.

Jacoby sighed. “Alright, you three, drop your bats.” They obeyed

instantly. “Do you know who Jaculus Ottaggaemenel is?”

My friends shook their heads.

“Melaskimel!” he called sternly as he entered the living room.

Duma obediently ran up to Jacoby, almost dog-like, as if awaiting

instructions. Jacoby walked over to one of two corners Duma marked as

his own, while Duma positioned himself opposite of him in his other

corner. The significance of the mysterious corners and Duma’s territorial

responses was beginning to dawn on me.

“Jacoby, you know where Jack is?” I asked, watching him closely.

“Yes. Dorian told me ten minutes ago.”

“Is she okay?” I said, feeling the floorboards begin to quake under me

as Jacoby and Duma started their descent beneath the floor.

A wall of green light sliced around the couch. It was the same light that

had led me to one of the Secret Veils under Jacoby’s cabin.

I was the first to walk through, knowing it was safe. Oz was next, then

Sam, Bert and Amy.

Next stop: Jaculus Ottaggaemenel’s Secret Veil, a train conductor’s

voice spoke to us from inside the light.

The couch jolted, and we sank through the floor, right as the lights

went out in the living room and everything went pitch black.

Warning: We will come to a stop in an owl hoot.

The platform hit bottom.

Thank you for traveling with us.

Shortly after, I heard Jacoby in the dark. “Once you’re handed the

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lanterns, your lives are in Jack’s hands. Do you all understand?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Becky?”

“Yes.”

“Sam? . . . Amy? . . . Bert?” They all nodded bashfully.

Three glowing spots swayed gently ahead of us; a tiny apple-sized

jack-o’-lantern, carved with three round holes for two eyes and a mouth,

hung on the top of a walking stick. Jacoby handed it to me, then reached

into the darkness and pulled out more of these for the group, each jack-

o’-lantern beginning to glow as soon as he touched it.

I moved my walking stick around, catching glimpses of dark wood. We

were inside a hollowed-out Sequoia tree. Cold water droplets fell from

the darkness above us. The damp air and the sound of the dripping water

made me think of the end of a rainy day.

As I swung my light around, a sinister voice detached itself from the

wood, sounding like it had stopped just outside the glow of Jacoby’s

lantern.

Thou creeping circles shall fall in a wicked soul, screaming fear in a

belly, cold and dark.

Jacoby ducked his head as Dorian psyclined to his side, already

gripping a walking stick. My friends ducked their heads, too.

“I presume Jesse has told you about Dorian,” said Jacoby, turning back

to look at them. “Yes?”

They nodded, turning away their eyes, even though Dorian’s back was

to them. Jacoby stopped at a small wooden door, waiting until everyone

arrived.

“We are on the other side of Gemble Jinn’s door, a living pumpkin that

passed away. His death left behind an unlocked door, known to be the

door connecting the four Secret Veils. A door that, when locked, kept

Jack from entering three of the Veils. Jaculus Ottaggaemenel is an

intelligent entity, who can manipulate and murder. No one is safe in his

presence. You are to listen only to Dorian or me. Understood?”

They quickly nodded, looking quite spooked.

“You three will stay with Dorian. Jesse and Becky, you come with me.

If Katie is on the other side of this door, she is to be taken out as quickly

as possible. Remember, our sole purpose here is to get her, and nothing

else. Do not stray off the path for any reason.”

Jacoby released the doorknob, but he didn’t turn around. “The land is

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in complete darkness and stretches on for thousands of miles. I will need

you to close your eyes.”

“What about Duma?” I said softly, feeling the fear growing inside of

me. Duma was between Jacoby and Dorian.

He turned to me. “He’s a great psyclin chaser. He’ll follow me. Jesse,

eyes.”

I hesitated. I wanted to see. Jacoby opened the door to endless darkness

stretching in every direction. It was the realm of nightmares. A living

hum was moving around us, coming so close that we could feel its eerie

vibration.

Jacoby pointed the end of his walking stick into the darkness, probing

for something. An inhuman wail, like a dolphin’s cry, broke out of the

hum, as if acknowledging our arrival. It flew inside the pumpkin and put

out the glowing ember.

Jacoby pulled the walking stick back and relit the magic coal. I

tightened my grip on his and Oz’s hands and squeezed my eyes shut,

immediately feeling the upward pull of the psyclin. It wasn’t a pleasant

one. My legs and arms were being yanked and twisted. I was filled with

the nauseating feeling of falling into a hole, about to hit the bottom.

Finally, we landed on a hard surface. I heard Jacoby’s voice inside my

head: The passage is not letting us psyclin more than one mile at a time –

hold on–

A howling gust of wind crept up against my skin.

“Jacoby?” I whimpered.

Jesse, keep them closed–

Dozens of psyclin leaps later, I couldn’t guess how far we had traveled,

but we must’ve left California far behind.

“Katie?” I heard Jacoby call out quietly.

“What?” I murmured, wanting to open my eyes. “Jacoby?”

Jesse, don’t open your eyes. And do not let go!

I snapped my eyes open, having momentarily lost my grip. I was in the

light of Oz’s walking lantern. She was still holding my hand, shivering

and as erect as a standing pencil. Her eyes were still closed. An elastic

black cloud was undulating around us, speaking in sighs.

With eyes closed, Jacoby psyclined in midair and stretched out his

hand, taking us away just as I heard a faint whimper of a girl.

“Jacoby–” I was promptly interrupted by Jacoby.

Keep your eyes–

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Suddenly, there was a drastic temperature drop, and the whimpering

died out.

She’s here. She’s alive. . . . Open your eyes.

I opened my eyes to the soft light of our lanterns. I let go of Oz,

shining my lantern across a grassy expanse. My friends’ lanterns stayed

nervously poised in the darkness. Dorian psyclined over to Jacoby. I

could tell they were channeling information to one another.

Meanwhile, I was straining to see past the glow of my lantern.

Occasionally, the shifting black cloud drifted through my light,

absorbing some of the glow, so I could see it later trailing about in the

dark. I followed the cloud and watched it drift through Jacoby’s and

Dorian’s light. Duma was crouched next to them, keeping perfectly still.

I never took my eyes off of the cloud, tracking it through the darkness,

losing sight of it and then finding it again. I had to strain my eyes to the

point of exhaustion to keep up with it.

If we don’t get her now, we lose her.

Jacoby waved me over. I hurried over through tall wet grass. He

gestured for everyone else to stand still.

The whimpering echo grew again. It was Katie.

Jacoby placed a hand over my neck, inhibiting my ability to speak.

He’s letting one of us take her.

This frightened me. It meant he was really close. It meant he was

watching us. I began to breathe heavily. My heart was thumping wildly.

I wanted to find Katie. I wanted to bring her home.

Jesse, she’s shaken up, his voice reverberated. The rest of you – Bert,

Sam, Amy, Becky – don’t move. If you take a step closer, he’ll kill her.

With my eyes bulging out of their orbits with fear and tension, I finally

found the long luminous cloud snaking around Jacoby’s bare feet. It

glided down a grassy hill, covered with colossal boulders and bare trees,

along a grassy riverbank and up to a tall shape. . . . It was him. For a split

second, I could see Jack’s willowy hunched-over frame and the curvature

of his round face gleaming in the dark. But when the cloud was gone, so

was he.

“J-J-Jacoby?” I muttered.

I sensed Jack was waiting in the darkness . . . close to me . . . Oh my

God . . .

The whimper came back.

Jesse, listen to me. He’s allowing you to take her.

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Oh my God. . . . Why me? . . .

Drop the stick.

I couldn’t.

Drop the stick or you’ll never see Katie again.

I dropped it and watched the light go out. Darkness enveloped me, but

I could still see the glowing points of the other lanterns.

Jesse, follow her cry. Do not say a word until you reach her. Go now.

I hesitantly stepped forward, losing sight of the glowing spots. I looked

back at them. I couldn’t catch a glimpse of a single light. The darkness

was complete. I turned back around, feeling my way with my hands. The

faint whimpering was coming from . . . I strained my ears. . . . It was

coming from my right – across the riverbank.

Oh my God, please don’t kill me.

I cautiously and silently shuffled towards the cry, feeling Jack lurking

beside me. I stopped. He stopped.

The whimpering turned to guttural sobs of fear.

“I-I-I’m g-g-going t-to get her,” I mumbled to Jack, just as I

remembered that Jacoby instructed me not to say a word.

Feeling my way with my hands and feet, I continued creeping forward.

I was going to get her. I wanted to call out to her. I wanted her to hear

my voice and know that I was coming for her.

Overgrown grass was no longer wrapping around my feet. I was now

treading along a rocky surface, stumbling over bumps and crevices.

Come on, come on, come on . . . Katie, where are you?

The crying stopped, but I knew she was near. I stretched out my arms

in front of me and called for her. “Katie?”

Nothing.

The spooky presence and cavernous breathing were right next to me.

A dot of light hovered inches above the ground, illuminating a slender

shape nestled into a hollowed-out boulder. Katie was curled up against

the rock, her body shaken by sporadic spasms. Her wet hair was clinging

stiffly to her face. Her arms and legs were covered with slashes and

bruises.

“K-Katie?” I muttered, staggering over to her.

She shrieked in terror at the sound of my voice, jamming herself

deeper into the nook in the rock.

“Katie, it’s me, Jesse,” I quivered. “You can go home.”

My heart contracted painfully, and I felt shaken to the core of my being

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as I got closer. She looked like she had been beaten half to death.

I reached for her hair to brush it aside, but she pushed her body harder

into the rock.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. “Katie, it’s me. Can you hear

my voice?”

I reached for her and rested a hand on a raw arm: skinny, bruised and

bleeding.

“Oh, my God–” I clamped my hands over my mouth in horror.

“Katie…”

I got a grip on myself and tried to scoop her up into my arms. She

flailed her arms and legs furiously, recoiling and pounding me in the

chest, and even getting one good kick in my jaw. I almost lost my

balance, flustered by her screams.

“Katie, I’m sorry. I’m here. I’m not leaving you again. I promise.”

I made another attempt to pick her up. She swung and kicked, batting

me away. Her face reflected sheer horror as if she believed I was about to

kill her.

I braced myself and firmly put my arms around her frail shape. Katie

doubled her efforts to break away, writhing in my arms and pummeling

away at me.

“Katie!” I called out to her with all the love I had for her.

I picked her up. Instantly, she threw her arms around me and clung to

me for dear life. I felt her nails digging into my skin. I took two deep

breaths and lifted myself up. She was a lot heavier than I expected. Her

uncontrollable spastic jerks made it painful to hold her. I lowered one

arm and held her shivering legs, trying to calm them.

I took a heavy step, almost tipping over, and hurried to put my other

foot forward, blindly making my way back. She began to whimper and

grabbed harder onto my neck, burying her bloodied face into my chest.

My knees nearly buckled.

“It’s okay, Katie, I won’t drop you,” I reassured her. “I promise.”

She relaxed a little for a moment, shifting her head across my chest.

“Jacoby!” I called out in a hurry, losing my grip. I wasn’t sure how

much longer I could carry her. “Where are you? I can’t hang on much

longer. . . .”

Katie must have understood this because her body tightened at once.

“K-Katie, I can’t breathe!” I gasped. “I promise on my life, I won’t

drop you.”

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I got a surge of energy in my legs and strode forward. She loosened her

grip a bit, perhaps finally trusting me.

“We’re almost there, Katie. Just a little further to–”

I spotted everyone. No one moved. They waited.

“Help me!” I called to them.

They didn’t move; they remained inside their lights. I began to stride

towards Jacoby and Dorian . . . almost there . . . moments later, I entered

their lantern’s light.

Jesse, close her eyes.

Emotionally and physically depleted, I used the last of my energy to

push aside Katie’s wet hair to find her eyes.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

My wheezy breathing calmed gradually as I lay on the hardwood floor

of the living room. Katie was on top of me, shivering, still clinging to my

chest like a starfish. Her pounding heart echoed through me.

“She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay,” I repeated.

A deluge of voices filled the stale air. I couldn’t make out most of it.

Jacoby squatted next to me. Everyone was there: Oz, Dorian, Duma, and

my friends.

Jacoby was attempting to pull Katie off of me, but to no avail. He

pulled harder, and she kicked him. Slowly but surely he pried her off.

She reached for me, as though Jack was taking her away. I had never

seen her so frightened. She continued to make involuntary jerks, which

were painful to see. Gradually, she came to realize where she was,

recognizing Jacoby and calming down at last. He had an easier time

handling her than I did. I kept close behind them as he carried her down

the hall.

“We need to get her in the water,” he said, making his way to the

bathroom. “Oz? Amy?” he called out.

Oz and Amy hurried into the bathroom as Jacoby started filling the

bathtub. He carefully unfastened each of Katie’s arms and legs one at a

time and slowly lowered her into the tub. She didn’t like this and broke

into a short convulsive fit.

“Keep her in,” Jacoby said to Oz and Amy.

They held her as Jacoby exited the bathroom and closed the door

behind him.

I slid down the wall just outside the bathroom door, rolling up into a

ball, listening to Katie’s cries and moans. It was hard to bear. I was

surprised everyone stuck around.

Oz poked her head out after an hour. All the men stood up.

“She’s looking a tad better,” she gasped, looking exhausted. “Can I get

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dry clothes, three aspirins and warm milk?”

I ran for my room and rummaged through the top drawer of my dresser

and picked out the first set of shorts and shirt I could come up with.

Meanwhile, Sam and Bert started warming up the milk on the stove. I

came running back with my green shorts, a black dress shirt, brand-new

boxers and long socks. Oz quickly grabbed the clothes, aspirin, and a

pitcher of warm milk out of our hands, and shut the door.

Another hour had passed before the door opened again. Amy came out

with a stack of bloodied towels and a wet one for herself, which she used

to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

“I’m going home to tell my parents that Katie’s okay,” she told Jacoby

and Dorian.

“Amy, you don’t have to come back if–” Jacoby started.

“I’m coming back,” she said and walked out of the house.

She was back in an hour, having changed and showered. Her short

brown hair was tightly pulled back. She smelled like shampoo. She

knocked on the bathroom door, and Oz stepped out.

“It’s going to take some time,” Oz informed us. “I’m going to go take a

quick shower. You should all do the same.”

Sam and Bert went home. Jacoby got up and directed me to a shower

stall in the haunted house below while Dorian stayed at the door, waiting

his turn. Each stall had a different rainfall showerhead. Mine was an

opened-mouthed chrome python that hissed lukewarm water, which

turned hot or cold, depending on what I thought at the moment. The next

stall was a chrome gargoyle, with water shooting out of its raised claw.

Jacoby picked the one with a chrome cat sitting tall on a soap shelf,

shooting water out of its snarling jaws. The water ran black, not clear.

Jacoby informed me that it was infused with special cleansing fluid,

nothing to worry about. I was just happy to wash the dirt and stench off

of me.

I put on some clothes that Jacoby had left for me on a rock bench. Two

bats squeaked and fluttered their wings as they hung upside down on a

tree growing half outside and half inside the house, branching off into the

corners of the giant bathroom.

When he was done, we sat down next to the enormous pumpkin in the

pumpkin patch that I had once thought was real. I still had a vague

grudge against the pumpkin even though now I knew this one wasn’t

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real.

“Why did he let her go?” I wondered.

“I don’t know, Jesse.”

“Did he talk to you?”

“No, but I could read his body language. He wanted you to retrieve

her, not your friends.”

“What about you? You could’ve gone with me.”

“Dorian and I were forced to stay back. Jack stepped forward at my

mere thought of going to get her. He chose you – as I would have done

anyway.”

“Why me though? Is it because he had seen me before?”

“Jack was enabling you as her savior because he knew you were the

only one who could bring her back. She might have not welcomed

anyone else to rescue her.”

I thought for a second, and then asked, “Why would he set her free?

Why would he set us free? He spared all of us.”

“He didn’t want to kill, not at this time.” He paused to watch Duma

spot a crow nesting on top of a large pumpkin.

Jacoby continued. “There has to be a motive to end a life. Jack is not a

psychopath. However, he does not shy away from killing the innocent if

they stand in his way.”

I had one more question.

“Is he going to come back?” I asked, not trying to read his expression.

I waited for a “yes” or “no” answer.

“You want the truth?”

“Yes.” I stared right at his mouth.

“Yes, he is. From now on he’ll be close to her, but he’ll stay in his

Secret Veil and we’ll stay in ours. We’re going to carry on as we always

have–”

Jacoby stopped, expecting me to speak. He went on after I lowered my

head.

“We’ll eat breakfast, go to school, go on with our lives the same way

as usual. I’ll find an additional job to pay the bills. You shouldn’t worry.

We may never know this for sure, but she might not even have what he’s

after. He may never take her again.”

Could it be true? Was Jack really going to let her be?

Jacoby made a strange dinner of banana salad and roasted chicken. It

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was actually pretty tasty. Oz and Amy were still inside the bathroom

with Katie, who had calmed down substantially. I brought three plates of

chicken salad for the three of them. I wanted to see Katie. I wanted to see

her face, to see if she was looking better. But the bathroom door was

only cracked open for a moment and quickly shut again, not giving me

enough time to peek inside.

I fell asleep in the hall late that night and awoke at seven the next

morning. Katie had been transferred to my bedroom. She was sleeping

under the covers. I couldn’t see her, but I could see the soft rise and fall

of her breathing. That was good enough for me.

The school days were difficult to endure when all I could think about

was Katie curled up in my bed, twitching and whimpering. People kept

asking me if they had found Jack, even though they didn’t know who he

was. My friends kept their promise, keeping quiet about Jack and what

had happened that day in the Secret Veil.

The end of our freshman year was approaching fast. Oz and Amy

continued to spend most of their time tending to Katie, taking turns

sleeping in my bedroom while keeping their watch. They thought that

being with girls was best for her. I was ordered to sleep in the living

room.

It was only the day before the first final that Katie began to

communicate again. Amy was the bearer of good news.

I ran to my bedroom door, with a “do not enter” sign taped on it.

“Can I come in?” I asked.

“She’s not ready!” I heard Amy say. “She’s only nodding and shaking

her head!”

Jacoby and Dorian were there with me, listening. Sam and Bert came a

minute later with a large jug of warm milk.

“What did she say?” panted Bert.

“They won’t tell us,” I said.

Oz and Amy spoke very softly to her, making it hard for us to hear.

“Katie, you have a test in Statistics and Spanish tomorrow,” said Oz.

“Do you think you could take them? No? . . . Would you like for me to

ask them to bring the tests to you? . . . Yes.”

Jacoby called the principal right away, who agreed to release the test

under a teacher’s supervision.

“Would it be okay if I let your friends in?” we heard Oz ask.

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There was a long silence.

“Katie, your friends, Bert, Sam . . . and Jesse–” There was a slight

rustle and clang on the bed. “Yes, you know them.” The next words

seemed to be addressed to us. “She smiled!”

In the hall Bert shook his fist. “Yes!” he yipped a little too loud.

We heard Katie let out a shriek.

“Katie, everything’s fine,” said Oz. “You don’t need to be scared

anymore. Katie, just relax and scoot over here . . . that’s good.”

Amy’s voice was heard. “Katie, you’re doing very well . . . just move

forward . . . don’t fall off the bed–”

We all waited in silence.

“Sorry,” Bert apologized to us in the meantime.

“It’s alright, Bert, she just hasn’t heard a new voice in a while,”

explained Jacoby. “All she’s accustomed to is Becky’s and Amy’s.”

“G-o-o-d j-o-b,” we heard Amy say inside, as though she was speaking

to a child.

Crapper, Amy was treating Katie like a baby. I knew they had to be

gentle and patient, but there was no need to treat a fifteen-year-old like

an infant.

Thankfully, Oz spoke normally. “Would you like to see your friends?

Katie, they’re outside the door. They’ve been waiting there patiently for

the past week. They brought you warm milk. . . . Okay. That’s fine for

today. I’ll have Jacoby get your Spanish test, and you can take it

tomorrow. Do you want to study a little for – No? Okay, that’s fine. I

know you do.”

On Wednesday, Ms. Hernandez came over in the morning to sit in with

Katie while she took the test. I had too stay at school because Jacoby

wanted me to take the test with my classmates. Mr. Mountain filled in for

Ms. Hernandez at school. It was funny to watch his face when students

swore using “booty bejo” over every difficult question, having picked it

up from Katie.

The test had some hard verbal questions, but I passed with a “C+”. I

found out that Katie had received an “A-”, and Ms. Hernandez had

startled Katie at one point during the test and had to be escorted out of

the room. She passed all her other tests with either a “C” or “C+”. More

importantly, school was out and summer was here. The hot days

consisted of digging for eight hours at the graveyard and then sitting

outside of my bedroom door and listening. Oz and Amy were still

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babysitting Katie daily, and Bert and Sam came over less often.

The night before the start of my sophomore year of high school, Oz

told me she was going to bring up Jack with Katie for the first time.

Jacoby and Dorian were in the hall. I had called Bert and Sam, who

showed up five minutes later.

“She say anything yet?” said Bert quietly, out of breath.

I shook my head and pressed my ears against the door, just then

realizing it had been a little over three months since we brought Katie

back.

Bert nudged me out of the way so he and Sam could listen in for a bit.

Duma came wandering in, curious about the gathering, then slinked off

when he realized we weren’t doing anything special.

“Katie, you want to try going outside?” said Oz. “It’s a warm night.

What do you think? . . . Okay, but you’re going to have to go out soon.”

“Hey, Katie,” Amy said, “guess what! Jiracek is transferring over to

teach Geometry. What a dope! . . . Sorry, Becky.”

“Katie, it’s been three months,” Oz continued. “Why don’t you say the

first thing that comes to mind? . . . Could you say your name?”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Katie, can you remember the day you were taken from us? Katie,

there’s nothing to be scared of anymore. Amy and I are here. All your

friends are just outside that door. Katie, it’s fine. Don’t be scared. . . .

Okay, that’s better. Could you tell me what Jack–”

Katie’s piercing shriek was followed by a loud thud. We could hear

Amy and Oz struggling with her, evidently trying to restrain her.

“Katie!” said Oz firmly. “Jack’s not here!”

After two hours, Bert and Sam went home. Amy came out and said that

Katie had another attack. Sandy called me right after Amy left. For the

last month she kept asking how Katie was doing. She didn’t sound like

she cared, but she kept calling.

I went to Oz’s room for my nightly routine to make sure Oz was

sleeping on the bed and Jacoby was sleeping on the floor, something he

said he liked doing. I closed the door and went to the living room, seeing

Dorian walking the perimeter of the house. The only pumpkin securing

the house was the one outside Katie’s window. Duma trashed them if we

put more than one out.

Last on the agenda was falling asleep under Katie’s door. I couldn’t

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fall asleep unless I heard her calm breathing. By now I could easily tell if

she was asleep: her breathing was different.

I put my ear to the door. Her breathing was normal. Actually, it was

kind of quiet.

My mind wandered through a motley maze of memories, but it always

came back to Katie, bloodied and terrified, trapped in the Secret Veil. I

missed her. If I could just get a glimpse of her hair, I would be happy.

I peered down the dark hall and then carefully turned the doorknob.

The door opened, and I slipped inside, quietly shutting it behind me.

I stood there, completely still, facing the door, hoping and praying she

hadn’t heard me come in.

Alright, Jesse, turn around, I told myself. Don’t be a coward.

I turned around. Katie was sitting in my bed, gaping at the opposite

wall. She had her hands wrapped around her tucked-in legs, which were

covered with her baggy sweater. Her thin black hair was perfect,

gleaming in the moonlight. Amy and Oz had kept it healthy. The cuts on

her arms and legs had healed completely. Under her sweater, she was

wearing the black dress shirt and shorts that I had given Oz on the day of

her return.

I smiled. She looked great. I just stood there, entranced by her beauty

that would change the life of anyone who saw her. Her golden brown

skin and long black hair were flawless. However, she looked scared. She

reached her hand out to the side and snatched her mother’s hair band off

the bed and tucked it underneath her.

Her arm made a twitch, and she kicked her feet up, knocking the

blankets off of the bed.

I ran over. “Katie, you okay?” I asked.

She whirled her head around and gaped at me with the most beautiful

brown eyes.

I bowed my head bashfully, unable to endure her gaze, and then slowly

sat on the bed, making sure not to startle her. I looked up gingerly. She

was staring at me, serene and happy.

“Hey,” I whispered.

And then the best thing imaginable happened: she mouthed a “hey”

back. . . .

And crawled over to me. What was she doing? I thought she was going

to attack me. She didn’t. Instead, she threw herself on me, gripping me

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like she had that day. But this time, her body was warm and calm.

Unsure of what to do, I said, “Katie . . . you okay?”

She rested her head on my shoulder. After a minute, which I counted in

my head, she shifted slightly, without letting go of me.

“Katie, can I tuck you in?”

I tried pulling her arms off of me, but they were tightly fastened to my

back. It was useless trying to pry her off of me. I carefully lay down,

taking her with me.

Maybe she would let go. . . .

Nope. She kept her firm grip on me. It was then that I blushed,

realizing we were in bed together.

“Katie, you can go to sleep now,” I said warily.

And she did just that.

I sighed and tried unfastening her right arm. I got it off. Thank God, I

thought–

She stirred awake and threw her arm back over.

Crapper!

So, I lay there with the girl of my dreams, sweating and probably still

red in the face. What was I going to do? I couldn’t fall asleep with her

holding me.

“Katie?” I whispered after staring at Oz’s alarm clock for three hours.

“You need to wake up.”

Maybe if I startled her, she would let me go. Or, she might sock me.

First, I had to move into a more comfortable position; half my body was

hanging off the bed.

I heard someone’s voice at the door, and then the doorknob turned. I

couldn’t look. A moment later I heard Oz’s voice. “Jess!” she snapped.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oz,” I hastened to explain, “I came in to check on her – she just – I

can’t move. She won’t let me go.”

Oz walked over, starting to smile.

“Why are you smiling?” I whispered angrily. “This isn’t funny.”

“Hold on.” She left my bedroom and came back with Jacoby and

Dorian.

Oh, great.

“Oz, my legs and arms are asleep,” I murmured. “Can you pull her off

of me?”

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They stared and grinned.

“I said I’m hurting!” I was getting impatient.

“Alright,” said Jacoby. He came in and carefully lifted Katie’s arm. . . .

She awoke and latched right back onto me.

“Katie, you need to let go of Jesse,” said Jacoby. I could have sworn

his voice was quivering with laughter. “Katie, let go.”

Katie buried her head in my neck.

“Jesse, we’ll try again in the morning.”

“What?” I protested. “I can’t go to sleep like this.”

Oz was pondering the situation. “Jacoby, I don’t want Jess and her in

the same bed.”

Jacoby came over and tried once more.

“She’s glued on,” declared Jacoby, smirking.

“No, she’s not!” I snarled. “Get her off!”

“I can’t, Jesse.”

Oz also tried and failed.

“I’m staying in here with them,” she concluded.

“Becky, they’re fine,” assured Jacoby. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.

I think Katie is now well enough to go to school.”

Oz contemplated for a moment then left the room. She gave me a stern

look, and I shot her a glare. “Oz!” I hissed. “What’s wrong with you

guys? You can’t leave me here!”

That night was the most painful night ever. Having often dreamt of

Katie hugging me, I could have never imagined it would be under such

awkward and painful circumstances. My legs were tingling, and I was

getting thirsty and hungry. A scary thought occurred to me, what if she

never let go?

I moaned.

“Hey, Jessman, you da’ man!” teased Bert, let in by Jacoby with no

warning. Amy and Sam walked in after him.

What time was it? I looked outside. Seven o’clock?

Amy smiled. “What did I tell you, Jesse?” she said.

“Jacoby, get her off,” I begged.

“Don’t do it, Jacoby,” prompted Bert, “at least not before I get a

camera. Hey, Amy, you got one?”

She nodded, and they both made a dash for it. While everyone waited,

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Sam gave me a thumbs-up.

I wanted to beat up everyone.

“What are we going to do?” inquired Jacoby.

No one answered.

“Katie and Jesse have to go to school,” he said.

Jacoby talked to Katie for an hour, once even trying to peel her off,

getting kicked in return.

“You have one more day with Jesse,” was Jacoby’s final say.

“What?” I said furiously. “I have to go to school!”

What was he talking about? To him, school had always been more

important than anything else.

Bert and Amy came running back in.

“Katie,” Bert asked, poking over the camera, “could you move your

head so I can see Jesse’s face. . . . Umm . . . okay, never mind, I’ll just

move over . . .”

Snap!

Snap!

“Perfect! You two are fantastic! Great look, Jessman! Show those

teeth, baby. Snarling is so sexy.”

Snap!

“Bert, time to go,” said Amy, laughing with Sam.

“Yes, it’s time to go,” said Jacoby. He turned to Oz. “I think Katie’s

fine where she is.”

“Jacoby, get her off!” I shouted, no longer concerned about disturbing

Katie.

Katie shrieked.

“I’m sorry, Katie,” I repented immediately. “I won’t do it again.”

She calmed down a few minutes later, after everyone had left. Jacoby

came back in with a straw and a glass of protein shake. Gee, thanks, I

thought sarcastically.

Neither of us said a word as he put the straw to my lips.

“I’m not a baby,” I told him.

“You have to eat.”

“I want Oz to feed me.”

“Alright,” he said and walked out of the door.

Oz didn’t come in until that afternoon. She brought me a peanut-butter-

and-jelly sandwich and a glass of milk.

“She does look much better,” she whispered to me, handing me the

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glass.

“Oz, she’s right here!” I said. “She can hear you!”

“Jess, look, your friends from school are here.”

“What?”

I craned my neck back as far as I could to see a bunch of students from

class laughing and giggling in the window. Bert was pointing at me like I

was “the man.”

We became the local attraction for a day. New crowds showed up

every ten minutes. The pilgrimage went on till seven, and that was when

I fell asleep on Katie’s shoulder.

I awoke, enjoying the freedom in my legs and arms, no longer in

Katie’s grip.

“She finally relented,” said Jacoby, taking a bite of an apple. “You

both have school in ten minutes. Quickly wash up and get ready.”

Jacoby, Katie and I walked to our class. Bert, Amy and Sam were in

two of our classes.

Katie was the most popular kid at school that September, and I think

she didn’t even know it. Still out of it, she didn’t speak a word,

communicating exclusively through writing. It was hard to read

sometimes because of tremors in her hand. She received a “C-” on her

first test, which was an instant talk of town, and she was rewarded with

an all-you-can-eat buffet at lunch.

Things were going back to normal. Katie was slowly recovering,

writing more legibly with each hand stroke, and becoming aware of her

surroundings.

It was then that Jacoby and Dorian started distancing themselves from

us, showing up only once or twice a week. When they came by, it was to

grab a snack or a dinner plate. Dorian soon stopped showing up

altogether. Finally, they both just vanished. No one knew where to.

There was no letter, no phone call, no reason for their disappearance, but

they were gone. As the days went by, I started thinking we might all be

in danger.

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was now October 1st, which marked the fifteenth day that Jacoby

and Dorian had been gone. Oz had caught the flu two days earlier, and I

was gradually getting over my own battle with being sick. Katie was

doing well. She would still have involuntary twitches now and then, but

by now they were minor. That night she made everyone dinner, tucked us

in, and then went back home by herself without telling anyone.

I ran to her house, and she met me at her doorstep and handed me a

piece of paper: “I cost too much.”

I couldn’t change her mind. Surprisingly, Sandy said “hello” to me as

she passed by the door. Katie didn’t let me go; she wanted me to stay

with her. These days, wherever I was, she was always close by. At the

end of the night, she couldn’t bear to see me leave, so she came back

with me.

On October 9th, Oz woke me up from a dreamless slumber.

“Jesse, it’s time to get up,” she whispered.

“Why?” I muttered tiredly.

I propped myself up to look out the window; it was still dark. Oz

walked out of my room, and Duma darted after her. I trudged drowsily

down the hall and into the living room. Jacoby and Dorian were standing

in the middle of the room. They were filthy. Their pants were splattered

with mud, and Jacoby’s hair was a tangled mess crusted over with dried

blood. Dorian’s bald head was oily, and the hair on his arms stood up in

scruffy tufts. Katie was sitting next to Oz on the couch. Jacoby motioned

for us to follow him. In the dead of night, we made our way through the

graveyard.

Jacoby took us past countless freshly dug graves, which sprawled out

further than the eye could see, and then into his cabin. The front room

was heated by a small white flame flickering in a cauldron set in the

middle of the floor. He motioned for us to sit around it, and Oz and Katie

sat down. I remained standing, not about to obey him after he had

disappeared without a word for 23 days.

A croaky voice flew over our heads.

168

The Irish farmer’s luck dwells in my chambered bones, skulking

Halloween’s mortal eyes.

The sinister curse wafted through the steamed-over window and faded

into the graveyard fog.

Jacoby stood in front of the crackling white flames. “Jesse, I’d like to

apologize to you,” he started.

“Why don’t you apologize to Oz?” I retorted.

“No,” he confided, “she knew my reason for leaving. I told her–”

“Oz?” I cried out in anger. “You told me you didn’t know!”

She looked down.

“Jesse, I asked her not to tell you,” he continued. “It was my fault. I

didn’t want you or Katie to know–”

“What is it?” I grumbled, trying to control my temper.

“Two days ago, the expected body count equaled the number of the

entire halloween population. And moments ago, it exceeded it. The total

count will be official on the eve of Halloween.”

Everyone remained silent, waiting for him to continue. Duma

wandered out of Jacoby’s bedroom and joined the gathering.

“Dorian and I left because the deaths were striking too fast. I can’t talk

long because we are still busy recording the casualties.”

“How is it that the death toll exceeds the halloween population?” I

asked.

“There are halloweens who aren’t accounted for–” Jacoby was

interrupted mid-sentence by an invisible strike to the head. He recoiled as

an old cut reopened, and blood trailed down his forehead.

When it passed, he continued.

“Based on what we’ve seen, Halloween is going to perish. Jesse, I’ve

told your mother that we’re not sure if you’re part of the population. You

don’t have a halloween’s soul. Neither does Dorian or me. But that

doesn’t mean we are safe.”

A halloween’s soul? They must have a different soul from humans

then. A Hallow’s Soul was the name of it, I was quite sure. In a flash, my

memory transported me to a room with three skeletasaltis – no, four . . . a

fleeting image begging to be deciphered. Vaguely familiar thoughts came

crowding in.

I learned they were trying to locate my second soul, called Hallow’s

Soul, a dilation of a halloween’s human soul.

A husky voice spoke. “He cannot be numbered. Neither can his

169

Hallow’s Soul be found. It is capable of enshrouding itself. This is the

soul of the devil.”

“Jesse, you want to ask me something?” said Jacoby.

“What?”

“You looked like you had a question.”

“No. . . . Hallow’s Soul is the name of a halloween’s soul. Yeah?”

“Yes,” said Jacoby. “Did Katie tell you this?”

He turned to Katie, who wore a blank expression. She shook her head.

“Did you learn that word last Halloween?” Jacoby persisted, watching

me closely.

“No. I heard it from a skeletasaltis.” It was a shock to me that I knew

how to pronounce a hazy name.

“A skeletis?” said Jacoby.

“No, a skeletasaltis.”

“Is that a halloween?”

“I . . . think it is. I can’t remember. I lost the exact memory.”

Jacoby dropped the subject and carried on. “The count is two-hundred

and ninety-one thousand deaths on October 31. This will be an

apocalyptic event–”

He lowered his head, as if preparing for another collision, but a death

didn’t come, and he lifted his head again.

“We will not warn the halloweens, nor will I call off the four festivals.”

“So what now?” I demanded.

“Tomorrow, you’ll go to school, and Becky will go to work.”

As always, Jacoby brusquely ended the discussion, eliminating any

further questions. Once back at the house, we all dispersed to our rooms.

The house was quiet. I crawled into my sleeping bag and closed my eyes.

Could a fatal catastrophe strike the world of Halloween? All in one

night? I fell into a deep sleep, brimming with grim visions of my

halloween friends dying.

I woke up by myself every day, walked over to Katie’s, and together

we both walked to school. We didn’t read, take notes, or participate.

With no supervision, Katie and I had the freedom to do what we felt like,

which in our case meant doing nothing at all.

For dinner on Halloween Eve, I made everyone an omelet with

shredded cheese, salsa, olives, green peppers, and tomatoes. Katie

showed up with a dozen eggs, a carton of milk, and biscuit batter,

170

unaware that I had made dinner already. I let her make her pancakes to

complement my omelet.

As soon as Jacoby was done eating, he stood up. “You two, in the

room.” He escorted us to our room. “Stay put.”

Katie sat on the floor, finishing up her plain pancake, using the bed as

a backrest. I sat on my sleeping bag. Yellow leaves brushed against the

windowpane and were swept off into the sky by a gust of wind. A wilted

old pumpkin slumped on the edge of the windowsill, its triangular eyes

and the “O”-shaped mouth now sagging in a perverse leer.

I turned back to Katie to see her staring at me. Something was

different: her face looked more animated, her mouth was open. She was

going to speak . . .

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I echoed. “You okay?”

She shook her head.

“Me neither.”

“I hated Hayes’s last multiple choice question in English,” she said

softly.

“I don’t think I got it right.”

“Liar.”

“Really, Katie.”

Her smile twisted as she twitched a little. She held her breath, then

asked, “Where’s Duma?”

I shrugged, spotting two living werewolf statues ducking their heads

behind the doorway. They were made of redwood and each held a granite

pumpkin at its chest. Alive, they betrayed signs of fear, but only for a

moment, at once turning back into lifeless statues.

“I want you two in the living room,” said Jacoby at the door.

“Okay,” I said, not taking my eyes off of the werewolf statues.

“Okay,” echoed Katie.

Jacoby showed no surprise at the sound of Katie’s voice or the sight of

the uninvited visitors. He turned and walked out of the room. I took one

last look at the werewolves’ pointy snouts before exiting. Jacoby took us

into the living room where there was another werewolf statue crouching

on the couch, this one gripping a pumpkin made of quartz. Katie and I sat

down on the rim of the rug next to Oz and Duma. There were enough

chairs and sofas for all of us, but we instinctively chose a spot furthest

from the werewolf.

171

“Melaskimel,” Jacoby called. Duma darted over and sat at his side. He

turned to us. “You all have an important decision to make right now. I’m

giving you a chance to aerobasal the day after Halloween.”

He had our attention.

“Aerobasal is a type of masme for non-halloweens. It can alter human

memories as a masme can for halloweens. They erase a day’s memory. I

made three of them to remove the memory of Halloween. It’s your

decision–”

“I’m not taking them,” I responded right away.

“Katie?” asked Jacoby.

She shook her head. Jacoby turned to Oz, who gave the same answer.

“I will leave them in the stall if–”

“You’re not a halloween?” said Oz.

“No. Jesse, what is the definition of a halloween?”

“A creature that lives one day a year,” I said. “But–”

Oz interrupted me. “So, then you’re not part of the population? You’re

not going to die.”

“The death toll is just a number. One still are not guaranteed against

being killed tomorrow. However, a human that dies will not be given a

halloween burial.”

“But how about you and Jesse? You’re not human. It doesn’t make any

sense.”

“It doesn’t. Becky, I’m not sure what we are.”

“You really don’t know who’s accounted for?”

“We don’t inscribe headstones. We dig graves.”

Oz stood up and jumped into his arms. I watched and waited, surprised

to see that Jacoby hugged back. Oz slowly lifted her face towards him…

“What’s that?” I said, pointing in the direction of the werewolf.

“An ancient protective curse summoned by halloweens from the Veil

of Time,” explained Jacoby. “They are precautions in the event of Jack’s

entrance–”

“So they are protecting us?”

“Yes. They don’t want us to go out on Halloween.”

“What?” I was getting alarmed.

“Halloweens living during the Veil of Time were smart – casting long

lasting curses to ensure the survival of Halloween. Which brings us to

the second decision we need to make: do we want to step outside of this

house when halloweens are guaranteeing us our safety? Jesse?”

172

“No,” said Oz.

“Jesse, you decide.”

Oz waited nervously beside Jacoby. “No, Jacoby.”

“You know what my answer is,” I said.

“No,” cried out Oz. “Jess–”

“Becky, it’s his choice,” said Jacoby. “Your son chooses to go out on

Halloween. Katie?”

“Yes.”

“W-why is this happening?” Oz mumbled in despair.

“Becky, you chose to be in my life–” said Jacoby.

“Okay,” sighed Oz.

“Alright.”

“Will the curses be here tomorrow?” I asked. “Just in case we decide to

come back.”

“I believe they’ll be gone as soon as we depart. Ancient halloweens are

stern and cranky. They won’t stand for being dismissed or disobeyed

when they know what’s best. And they do know.”

“They do?” I said.

“Jesse, your choice is . . . ?”

“I’m going out on Halloween.”

“Alright,” concluded Jacoby. “Katie, you have your Zone tickets?”

Katie nodded. “At . . . the house,” she said with difficulty. Her words

came out odd, labored, different from when she spoke to me.

I looked over at the rigid curse on the couch; it was still lifeless, his

face stuck in a frightened expression.

“It’s ten now, am I correct?” Jacoby asked Katie.

She didn’t have to look at the clock. “Yeah.”

“So, how about it, Jesse,” he asked me, “would you like to go to

Ireland and see the birth of a halloween?”

I looked at Katie to see if she wanted to go, but I couldn’t tell by her

blank expression.

“Katie, do you want to go?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said, looking only at me, as if we were alone in the room.

“Alright,” nodded Jacoby. “Dorian and I will be making a few friendly

pick-ups on our way. We can head over to the festival – the exact

location will be announced during the first hour – and watch Hess win

the Jack O’ Games. Remember, you must act as if tomorrow is a normal

Halloween day. I’ll make sure you get to see your halloween friends. Are

173

we all in agreement?”

Everyone nodded.

The last hours were hard to bear as we were all overcome by

apprehension and anxiety. The clock above our heads seemed to be

ticking louder and louder as the time got closer to twelve. Once it struck

11:51, it was time for us to head out. We got up, and Jacoby took us

below the house, inside the Sequoia, past the pumpkins, to the Celtic

cemetery, and gathered us around a simple stone, topped by bright

colored turnips and pumpkins.

Jesse Samhain Halloween

Jesse Samhain Halloween? Was that a Celtic name? Was the name

Jesse Celtic? I didn’t think it was. I couldn’t believe I had never spotted

this gravestone. I did remember Katie mentioning the last name once as

being the first halloween, but hadn’t mentioned the full name. I

wondered if she had thought it would’ve made me too big-headed to

know that I shared a name with the first halloween?

At once, my memory took me back to the day of my first Halloween,

when I was at Ray’s doorstep. I could easily scroll through the memories

back and forth, as though I had a remote control.

“Jesse?” said Ray. “What a gift given to you. Did you know that Jesse

was once a powerful name in Halloween?”

Jacoby said nothing about the stone, nor did he have to. Oz had picked

out a good name for me. Or did Jacoby pick it out?

Katie and Oz were dressed in ragged, but magnificently stitched, witch

robes. Neither wore a hat. No need for hats, as their hair already looked

just right, frizzy and grubby. Well, Katie’s wasn’t that bad. I was given a

warlock robe that puffed out sparkling dust. Jacoby was in his everyday

super-sized T-shirt and pants. Dorian was sporting his usual long shorts

and a mystical top.

“Close your eyes,” said Jacoby.

“Duma will psyclin chase us, right?” I said, seeing two werewolf

statues sulking in the shadows of the cemetery gate. Four more were

standing in front of the haunted house. “We’re not leaving without him.”

174

“He’s staying here–”

“No, he’s coming,” I protested. “Duma, you follow us. Listen to me.

I’ve been taking care of you for the past fifteen years. Okay . . .

Melaskimel?”

Duma pricked up his ears, but remained at Jacoby’s side.

“No one leaves Dorian or me,” Jacoby continued. “No matter what

happens, you stay with a halloween. You’ll have many friends to choose

from in a few minutes. Close your eyes.”

None of us followed his orders, instead exchanging alarmed and

affectionate glances, as if preparing for the worst.

“If we don’t psyclin in . . .” he lifted his black watch, “twenty seconds,

we miss the Zone tour. Ten seconds. . . . Nothing will happen. . . .Three,

two–”

175

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I landed on the muddy planks of a tall bridge that crossed an orange

river, leading to a green mountain. Ghost-faced lanterns decorated the

tops of rope railings, which extended past low clouds. Crawling along

the ropes like a creepy spider was a dark curse.

“Watch the footprints,” warned Jacoby.

I stepped backward out of a footprint just as a scaly gargoyle psyclined

in front of me, and along with him hundreds of halloweens: witches,

warlocks, mummies, vampires, werewolves, skeletis, and even a farm of

spectacalons. Some halloweens I couldn’t identify. More psyclined

behind us. Within seconds, the bridge was full.

I heard Oz’s voice. “Jacoby?”

Jacoby had his hands on his knees, throwing up a mouthful of blood.

He let out a bronchial cough, and a scar ripped open across his forehead.

“Jacoby?” repeated Oz as we all watched his scar reseal itself. “What

was that?”

“The day’s change,” he said.

“Explain?”

“It’s like seasickness,” was all he said.

Dorian was gone. Our attention was drawn to the back of the line.

“No cutting in line, melflin!” shouted a redian vampire with a red coat.

“What’s this? A ticket!” A child’s voice talked back.

“Go back to your candy shop!”

Conveniently, Dorian arrived at the scene right as Lin was about to be

cursed by a line of angry halloweens. Lin patted Dorian happily on his

back and made a face at the snarling line.

“Thanks for picking me up, Dorian,” said Lin. He was the only

halloween who never bowed his head in Dorian’s presence, and he

always wore large overalls. Lin stopped inches from Jacoby. “I was stuck

waiting in Brazil forever!”

“Lin, you were waiting for one second,” said Jacoby.

176

“Don’t talk to me. You left me – Jesse! Katie!”

He excitedly shook our hands. He got to Katie, and she flinched.

“Katie, what’s wrong with you?” he said, frowning. “What did Jack

do? I’ll Jical him–”

“She’s okay,” said Jacoby. “Lin, where did you get that ticket?”

“The Monster Mash.”

“How?”

“A fopen was handing them out . . .”

“I don’t want you pickpocketing halloweens.”

Lin handed me his ticket while he continued arguing with Jacoby.

264739*3329

EnTeRiNg ZoNe ToUr

Admit 3

one time entry

VALID THRU 2448 HD

243

NONREFUNDABLE

No photographs, brooms, or magical weaponry are permitted inside.

EZ is not accountable for lung or eye contamination, injuries, or death.

No readmission. Psyclin 129 for VIP PASS or EZT information.

Lin snatched the ticket from me and danced around, waving the paper

in the faces of those around us. “I got tickets! I got tickets! I got tickets!”

It was kind of stupid since everyone had tickets.

A beam of light shot out of nowhere and struck Lin square in the face.

Everyone laughed as Lin shook out a few tears.

“Lin, are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded, staring at Oz. “Who are you?” he asked quietly. “Are you a

welchick?”

“Yes, Lin, she is,” Jacoby answered.

Lin didn’t take his eyes off of her. “What’s her name?”

“Banksia.”

“Banksia?” cringed Lin. “That’s the ugliest name I’ve ever – how

many halloweens are you going out with?”

“Lin,” prompted Jacoby. “Why don’t you go with Jesse and Katie.”

“Who ate your candy corn, shrubby head?”

The halloweens were getting annoyed with him. However, they

weren’t saying anything. A short witch approached Jacoby, keeping far

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from Dorian.

“Uh . . . Jacoby?” she asked nervously.

“Rachel, I’ll no longer be altering Lin’s character,” said Jacoby.

“Why? No one likes him.”

Jacoby said nothing, and Rachel pursed her lips and retreated back into

the line.

“Lin, I want you to behave–” said Jacoby.

“Okay,” said Lin, doing the bat dance.

No one laughed. Was this going to be the last time we were going to

see Lin? . . . The last time we were going to see halloweens or visit a

halloween festival?

Katie took my hand and smiled at me. Feeling uneasy, I looked away. I

couldn’t remember if it was okay for halloweens to hold hands.

Lin came over and pulled my right earlobe. “You think Katie would

object to dating two halloweens?” he asked.

“But . . . we’re not dating,” I whispered, speaking in a muffled voice,

away from Katie.

The line finally moved across the middle of the bridge to where the

creepy curse was crawling.

A black skeletis in a red robe that billowed in the wind was dividing

the line into several groups and guiding them along the opposite side,

steering clear of the curse. A name tag on his belt said:

Outside Guard: Chisel Bone

malicauht skeletis

EnTrY: 2419 HD

“I want this done quickly!” he announced to the line.

“Why are you moving us here?” asked a clean witch. “We have the

entire bridge. We’ll get there faster if–”

“You’ll get there safely if you do what I tell you.”

“What are you looking at?” The witch looked up at the left side of the

bridge where Chisel Bone was looking. “What’s that?”

Not bothering with explanations, he pushed her along the bridge. “The

Entries are coming quickly today! We’re getting a record number! I want

groups of four! There are enough Entries for everyone to get an eyeful,

by the looks of it! You’ll all get to witness an Entry! Have your tickets

ready! I don’t want any delays!”

178

Jacoby said something to Oz, just before psyclining off with Dorian. I

went over to Oz, hoping Katie would let go, but she didn’t, making sure

to stay as close to me as possible.

“They’re going to pick up some friends,” said Oz, looking a little

nervous around the halloweens.

“Do you know who?” I asked.

She took a second before she shook her head.

“Next four!” said the outside guard. It was our turn.

“We have a cat,” I said.

But he wasn’t paying any attention to me. The curse shivered its skull

head and walked across the bridge, right between the guard and my

group. The guard froze, scared.

“I see Jack,” said Katie quietly.

The tiny curse opened its mandible, but then turned around and

crawled back up the railing.

“Your group?” said the guard, keeping an eye on Katie.

“We have a cat,” I said again.

“That’s fine. Move along.”

We hurried along the side of the bridge and stepped off, coming to a

giant stone staircase descending to the bottom of the mountain. Glowing

above the entryway was a small inscription that changed every minute or

two. Chisel Bone motioned to us to wait for the groups ahead of us to

finish their descent.

__________________________________

Halloween’s Entering Zone Agency

Established: 0000

Founder: J.S. Halloween

Jack’s Blackout: 1444, 2001, 2334, 2363

Location: Kilkenny, Ireland

__________________________________

Chief of Halloween Control: Cathie Mabel

Ground Level Controllers: Doctor Mad, Lobby, Clairekill, Lebra Tonic,

Creptin Joe, Kinder Littles, Hawk Johnson, Goo Brett Mandel, Dark Sam

Outside Guard: Chisel Bone

Outers: Bucky, Dinga Well, Renee Reek

Flank Guards: Boo Scare, Frilch, Frieda Boil

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1. Shielding Level & Explanatory Sectors

2. Halloween Count Station & Ineffective Administrative Office

2. Housing Units

3. Entering Zone

3. Howl Sector: Zones 1-2

3. Malicauht Sector: Zones 3-4

I asked Lin about one of the numbers and abbreviation, and he

explained them to me, but not before letting me know how stupid my

question was.

The writing disappeared and a new message came on. The groups close

by quieted down.

.JACK O’ GAMES FINALS PENDING IN TANZANIA, AFRICA.

.HESS RUFERD CLAIMING INJURY TO THE LEG.

The halloweens went berserk, some truly excited, and others angry and

scared. Their frenzy reaching its peak just as Jacoby and Dorian arrived

with a giant green halloween. Jacoby had brought Franky, and Hess, who

didn’t look injured. Two gray halloweens, the color of an overcast sky,

came gliding down from above. One of them was Soundrec, whose left

arm was a branch. The two halloweens folded their wings, jetting down

through the mist like two pelicans and flinging their wings out at the last

moment for a soft landing.

Franky wore a spidery green tuxedo that matched the color of his skin

and Hess, a mighty gargoyle, was fitted in ragged pants and a double-

breasted shirt.

The tumult died down, followed by breathless anticipation, they knew

something was up.

“Hess, what’s going on?”

“I bet on you. You can’t quit.”

“Why aren’t you competing? Is it your leg?”

Hess didn’t respond. However, he did look disgruntled. He joined

Jacoby, Dorian, Franky, Soundrec, and his partner just outside the

staircase.

“Okay everyone,” commanded Chisel Bone, having noticed the new

arrivals, “let’s keep the order. Hold the line for a moment.”

Mud poured over the stone stairs and grass sprouted as Chisel Bone

psyclined away. An excited warlock from the back of the line, who

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looked no older than maybe ten or eleven, ran up to Franky, holding up a

freshly picked branch.

“Mr. Frankenstein, can I have your engraving?” gasped the young

warlock.

“Not tonight,” said Franky. “Go back in the line now.”

Finally, Jacoby walked over to Katie and me. “They’ll be with us from

now till the Dark Hours,” he explained.

“Who’s Soundrec’s friend?” I asked.

“Shreek. I accepted his offer to help. I told them about what happened

to Katie. They’re willing to fight and put their lives on the line. I didn’t

tell anyone else, so I’d like this to remain between us. We’re still treating

this as a regular day. A strong halloween will replace Hess and sign the

Beneficiary Contract, and the Jack O’ Games will resume.”

Lin stepped in. “Jacoby, why did you tell Hess no?” he said angrily.

“He offered for you to take his place – I heard him asking you if you

wanted to. You could take Jake. I bet you could grind him into powdered

sugar!”

“Lin, you know why,” said Jacoby.

“Why?” he whined.

“Because the Games’ officials would want to postpone the match till a

later time to inspect me. And they would need to design a solo contract

for me like they did with the tortic. And, Lin, I just don’t want to bother

with that now.”

“You’re scared!”

The line overheard their conversation.

“Yeah, Jacoby, how come you said no?” one gruff voice blurted from

the back of the line on the bridge.

“You would do well,” said a skinny witch in a purple gown, stepping

out of line for him to see her. “We want good Finals. . . . Jacoby,” she

attempted to start a chant, “Jacoby, Jacoby, . . .”

The line of halloweens joined in.

“Jacoby, Jacoby, JACOBY, JACOBY . . .”

Lin quickly joined in, but no one in my group uttered a sound.

Hess made a frightening growl, and the crowd fell silent.

“I am sorry about that, Jacoby,” he growled and made a small grimace.

“Don’t worry,” Jacoby said. “You’ll gain back your health.”

“There are not that many halloweens who would be willing to sign.”

“Yes, a replacement is going to be hard to find,” agreed Jacoby. “You

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try asking Soundrec? Or Shreek?”

“They have an international-shift-call during the time,” he said.

A sudden thought made me wince so hard that Katie released my hand.

Hess’s injury, was it not part of the doomsday fate? And, if so, could it

not be reversed through a sudden turn of events? If Hess was destined

not to find a replacement, I could be the one to volunteer and sign the

paper. That could alter the course of events and somehow prevent the

disaster, maybe even stop all the deaths.

I could barely hide my giddiness. I felt jubilant. I was going to save

everyone!

Chisel Bone psyclined back and arrived with a female halloween in

tow, who had discolored patchy skin and long purple hair that magically

fluttered and spiked on and off, as if from an intermittent electric charge.

She walked up the stairs, the grass and the mud sliding off to the side in

her wake. Chisel Bone directed the last group in front of us down the

stairs.

The purple-haired halloween snipped off long bangs covering her eyes

by swiping her index finger across them.

A tag on her purple veil said:

Cathie Mabel motioned for Jacoby and my group to follow her

downstairs. We hurried after her, watching glowing spheres of light flare

up where our feet touched the ground.

Cathie Mabel scanned our group before speaking to Jacoby. When her

eyes reached Dorian, they lingered and narrowed sternly.

“What’s the count?” she asked.

“The regular,” lied Jacoby.

“I’ll only do this once, Jacoby. I don’t like giving out VIP passes. The

agency is not getting enough funds from the Haunt House or Yellow

Blood Corporation. We get half our CC’s from VIP customers–”

“I understand, Cathie. We only need three.”

She put her hand on a circular apparatus, causing a door to be lowered

out of nowhere. She ushered us into a small room, examining each of us

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as we passed by her. The secret door shut behind us and promptly

dropped out of sight. The ceiling was so high, it disappeared into the

darkness above our heads. The room was bleak and moldy, its walls lined

with large book cabinets and alphabetized drawers, each marked with a

letter and a number. A drawer marked “VIP” opened by itself two stories

above our heads, and three tickets floated down, landing into Cathie’s

hand.

“Who are the three?” she asked Jacoby.

“Jesse, Katie, and Lin?” he said.

“No, I mean who are they, these two and the orange witch? Not Lin.

They don’t have Entry files.”

“They were in the stolen cabinets E-F of day 2378,” lied Jacoby

without batting an eyelash.

“Here you three are.” The tickets floated to us, and we grabbed them.

Katie’s winning history game ticket slipped out of her pocket and ripped

itself on its way to the jack-o’-lantern wastebin. “You will be joining

Doctor Mad shortly. He’s a Ground Level Controller. Mr. Frankenstein,

we never grow tired of your generous donations.”

“After I double-check the house level and the Administrations,”

Franky said tersely, “I’ll see to it that your funding gets to you by the

Dark Hours.”

“Back to you, Jacoby,” she said as considerable voltage bristled her

hair. “To what do we owe this visit?”

“I need to talk with someone in the Count Station.”

A balding man with curly green wisps of hair stepped through the

cabinets. He wore a fitted black lab coat, a thick protective undercoat,

black gloves, and had the initials E.Z.A. stamped on his neck.

“Jesse, Katie, and . . . Leonard, I think it is,” the man said through a

full green beard. We all nodded. “Come with me – Jacoby! What brings

you here? – Dorian Kel!”

Dorian kept his head bowed.

“I’m just here to check the population count,” said Jacoby casually.

“Oh, it’s grand. The largest it’s been in fifty days.”

“Do you know the number off the top of your head?”

“Check down at HCS. How about the deaths? Same as usual? I hope

not like yesterday?” Jacoby shook his head. “That’s good because we’ll

be right back on target as we’re getting a huge amount of Entries – Okay,

I must get back to work.”

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Franky trudged over, leaned down and shook hands with me and Katie.

“Just wanted to say hi,” Franky said to me, smiling in his strange way.

“Thought it would be impolite not to.”

Hess and Soundrec came over to us. Soundrec didn’t say much, just

watching Katie twitch slightly.

“How have you been, Katie?” inquired Hess.

Katie mouthed a “fine”.

“Jesse, I am sorry I could not keep going. Accidents happen in the

games.”

“Will your injury heal okay?” I asked.

“Yes. If I can get one of Murlie’s friends or Murlie herself to treat it, it

will be gone in a day.”

“What about Franky?” I turned over to him.

“That is not my area of expertise,” said Franky sadly.

“Soundrec, are you alright?” I asked.

“I am. Thanks to Mr. Frankenstein and Murlie.”

“I’m sorry, Soundrec,” Doctor Mad said, “but I must be taking them

now.”

He pulled us away and put his hand through the cabinet wall so we

could pass through it. The next room was filled with busy halloweens

wearing lab coats, hurrying around. A female halloween was sitting

down, taking a moment of rest.

“The only melflin,” she said, spotting Lin.

“Clairekill, is it that bad down there?” asked Doctor Mad.

She couldn’t even get out an answer. She lifted herself from her seat

and waved to Lin before she walked away down a corridor.

“You’ll each need to put on boots and a coat. I’ll brief you while you

suit up. In 2445 the yslas were annihilated in the Moroccan Mountains.

And as of now we have a count of one-hundred yslas Entries. The count

is going up every few minutes. Additionally, as of now, we have a count

of ten bredock goblins and seven sorskis, which are all record highs since

the last Blackout.”

Doctor Mad led us into a long narrow downward corridor. Katie

grabbed my hand again. It wasn’t awkward anymore.

“Hey, Jess, who made your robe?” said Lin, searching the sides of my

black robe. His ears were fluttering.

“Quiet, Lin,” said Doctor Mad. “Being a celebrity does not give you

the right to talk whenever you please.”

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“Did you know I’m close to my days? I have a day left.”

“If you look to your sides,” Doctor Mad explained, glancing back at us

and ignoring Lin, “you can see the Halloween Count Station, where we

record the number of Entries and store files on EZA history.”

On our left, we passed two buildings nestled into a rock wall. Behind a

stone railing to our right, was an open space with hut-sized buildings.

“Also, on the left is the Ineffective Administrative Office that will have

their claws full this first hour. Large amounts of Entries mean large

amounts of Ineffective Entries. I will explain this later. The small

buildings are EZA housing, places where the employees can nap, eat the

most delicious candy you can buy, and have a ball without going to the

Monster Ball – watch your step.”

There was a two-foot drop. We jumped down, and the ground shifted

and sloped in a smooth circular motion.

A ghostly moan soared past us.

Daaark. It is daaark. Shall I die in my own shadow?

“That is a curse from a Veil halloween,” he informed. “It is a regular

down here. It is believed Veil curses in modern Halloween dwell near the

Secret Veils.”

“Or inside,” I stated, picking up my step to keep up with Doctor Mad.

Katie hurried along with me.

“Yes, Jesse, that is correct. . . . As of now we don’t know how exactly

a human is chosen to be resurrected in the realm of Halloween. There

have been no patterns, connections or similarities that we could trace.

However, two days ago the entire yslas race was wiped out, and now

they’re coming back in great numbers.”

Doctor Mad raised his voice to a shout because the walls around us

were shaking and rattling. A coffin lantern came unhooked, and Doctor

Mad levitated the lantern back up into its place.

The winding road took us to the bottom of a gigantic corridor that was

a quarter of a mile long. On the wall to our left was an etching.

ENTERING ZONE Howl Sector: Zone 1

“Okay, welcome to God’s womb – one thousand feet below the

surface. This is the first of four Zones down here where the humans who

have died since yesterday enter. The human margin of three hundred and

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sixty-four days is curved – not allowing a fraction of a second to pass

between our yesterday and today – making us live one day a year. What

Samhain Historians believe – make sure you understand that this is not

factual information – is that the creation of Halloween took place without

these cubicles.”

Halloweens dressed in black lab coats, paced up and down the fifty

foot square cubicles flanking both sides of the passage, carrying black

clipboards with a black piece of paper containing glowing text. There

were exactly 26 blocks – 13 on each side – each with a large door, bolted

shut. Each enormous room was outlined in a carved line. As the walls

trembled and rained rubble, the lines began to disappear.

“My job as a Ground Level Controller,” Doctor Mad explained loudly

over the din, ‘is to oversee the operation of Howl Sector’s 26 station

blocks. I am also head of GLC.”

He smiled coolly, even as one of the block rooms tipped with a violent

jerk. I thought the wall was going to explode, but somehow the rock

flexed like a muscle and straightened back up. A GLC came out of the

room, hurriedly locking the door behind him by pressing a flat red circle

next to the door.

“Another yslas,” the female GLC said, brushing her long eyebrows.

“That’s 106.”

She walked past us, glancing through each door window along the

way. Doctor Mad kept walking. The corridor went on forever.

The GLC called back to our guide. “Doctor Mad, you want to get space

triple ‘B’? A quebellion hew just entered.”

Doctor Mad nodded, and the GLC continued with her inspection of

each block.

“Space BBB is one of the 26 spaces we have here. Each space – each

block that you see on either side of you – is an Entry Zone. On average,

one Entry turns up every five minutes. That’s what makes my job hard.

You’ve got to get in and get out quickly. During the first minute, the

Entry vents its magical anger or fright inside the room. Then we get only

four minutes to take the Entry out. If we interfere during that first

minute, we are sure to never come out alive. When they first enter, they

are at their most powerful and aggressive state. Most of them will never

attain those levels in their entire halloween lifetime.”

There was a frightening roar inside Space LLL. The block rumbled and

the steel door bulged out like a bubble and then popped back.

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“I assume that’s an yslas. You go in there now, and you’ll be

disintegrated as soon as you set foot inside. What I do first when I get

inside is locate the Entry and carefully keep my distance. I don’t want to

startle it. I usually wait ten or twenty seconds to see if it reveals anything

about its past human life. Most don’t, but we do get an occasional talker.

It is important that we listen when they do speak in case they reveal

something that will explain why they entered. If they don’t speak first,

we ask them what language they speak. Usually I ask in Spanish first,

then German or Hindi, depending on how they act, then English. Native

speakers of those four languages comprise most of the Entries. We then

either take them to the next room, if we’re near the five minute mark, or

brief the Entry on the who, what, when, where, and how of Halloween.

We explain to them who they are, where they are – the basics they need

to start off with. Usually we don’t get far because they can’t retain any of

it. We give it to them anyways. While this is happening, the GLC records

the Entry. We record information, such as the Entry date, the halloween

race, and any information given by the Entry. The hardest part is jumping

from one space to the next and praying you don’t get an Entry like a

tortic. The two GLC’s who admitted the last living tortic, Lorseria, were

instantly killed.”

Doctor Mad stopped by a door and peeped into a clean window. Cut

into the glass was the letter tag of the space.

SPACE BBB

“I want you to read the engraving on the wall,” said Doctor Mad. “But

don’t worry too much about it. I deviate from the rules all the time.”

On the wall, to the left of the door, there were several paragraphs of

script. Lin, Katie and I walked closer to it. However, Lin didn’t bother

reading it, instead trying to get a peek through the window.

You must agree to abide by the rules of conduct listed below.

If you refuse to accept these or break any of them, you will

be taken into custody and your ticket will not be refunded.

You shall treat the Entry

in a professional friendly manner

and shall not resort to magical functions,

even if the Entry violently conjures or kills.

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You shall not perform

magic or Jical’s magic in either a

Triple Letter Space or in the adjacent area.

You shall be forbidden to taunt

a fellow tour member to a magical duel or a Jical. The

duelers will be removed from the Entering Zone premise.

“We’re two minutes behind,” said Doctor Mad. “Quebellion hews tend

to be the sharper ones. Eighty percent of them occupied prominent

positions in their previous lives.”

Doctor Mad made us walk in first. The enormous square room was

dark and musty, and the walls were savagely burnt and scratched up. An

orange halo illuminated a pitch-black-skinned halloween with a bald

head. He was kneeling in the corner, pondering something, as if trying to

solve a difficult math problem. He didn’t seem at all scared.

Doctor Mad handed me his clipboard. Glowing text began to write

itself across the page as he inspected the naked halloween, who was now

looking at him. Doctor Mad addressed him promptly.

“¿Usted habla Español?” asked Doctor Mad in Spanish. “Kyá áp hindí

bolte haí? Do you speak English–” He stopped. The quebellion hew

reacted promptly by responding with a “yes” in Spanish, Hindi, and

English.

He stood up, very tall, maybe seven feet. He glanced at Katie and me at

the opposite side of the room and then studied Lin like he was something

different, which was true for the most part. Then he turned his attention

back to himself. He dabbed at his dark skin and rubbed his long fingers

along his bare body. Then he looked down at Doctor Mad, who looked

like a child next to him, and picked up the ragged black cloth set out for

him.

“Follow me, Sir,” Doctor Mad ordered the halloween, who was

studying Doctor Mad’s curly green hair. Cuffs appeared on the

halloween as Doctor Mad pressed a green circle, found next to the door.

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Doctor Mad made sure the “Secure” light turned green before opening

another door, located across from the front door. “Don’t be alarmed by

the cuffs,” Doctor Mad explained, letting the quebellion hew go in first.

“It’s solely for our protection from you. If you please, there’s a seat to sit

in. Otherwise, you may stand.”

The obedient halloween sat down in the chair in front of a large desk.

He hadn’t put on the cloth yet, instead laid it on his legs after he sat

down.

“Am I reincarnated?” the halloween asked.

“In a way,” answered Doctor Mad. “State your name, please.”

“Glen Goldberg.”

“If you’re able to recall, tell me a bit about yourself – occupation,

family, hobbies – anything that comes to mind.”

Glen didn’t answer.

“It’s okay, everything said here will remain confidential,” informed

Doctor Mad.

“I grew up in a family of five in Birmingham, Alabama. I was never

any good at sports, so I stuck my head in a wide variety of books. I spent

most of my school years in libraries. I graduated from high school at the

age of sixteen and enrolled in Harvard. I studied there for a year, then

dropped out, all for a gorgeous brunette. I transferred to her school, USC,

and we soon got married. I graduated with Bachelor’s degrees in Political

Science, Applied Science, Engineering, and Film and Television. And a

few other things after.”

Glen said no more, showing that he was finished. I couldn’t believe it.

This halloween was a genius.

Katie and I sat down in the chairs across the room, and Lin stood next

189

to Doctor Mad.

“Mr. Goldberg you may continue,” said Doctor Mad. “I usually want

only a brief explanation, but please go on. What did you do after

undergrad?”

“I received my MBA at MIT at twenty-four and returned to Harvard

Law School to earn my J.D. It was that year, 1978, that I found out about

my wife’s cocaine addiction. She divorced me for a cocaine partner just

months later. Subsequently, I joined the navy and spent years hacking

into large corporations for the hell of it.”

“And then?”

“Five years later, I constructed an advanced non-electrical computer

unit and wrote a program that could decipher a computer’s mainframe.

Not long after, my ex-wife turned me in. Ironically, what came out of

that, is I got a job working for the White House, working for every

President over the last twenty-five years. During which, I got a chance to

study at all the top schools of the world and taught myself a few

languages.”

“Dr. Goldberg, you could very well be the most brilliant Entry we’ve

had in the past fifty days,” said Doctor Mad.

“Don’t make me look like a loony, Doctor Mad,” he smiled as he read

the name on the name tag.

“What did you die of? You were . . . fifty-one? Certainly you didn’t die

of old age.”

“I died in a lab dealing with density matter, the object being to mirror

electromagnetic waves to travel faster than the speed of light.”

“Did you succeed?” I asked from my corner.

“Yes. But now I’m here.”

I was in awe, feeling as if I was in the same room with Einstein.

“You were an exceptionally bright man, Dr. Goldberg,” said Doctor

Mad. “Your timing couldn’t be better. We’re in the process of forming a

new Samhain Government. It should be signed and working by

tomorrow. We could use a brilliant mind such as yours.”

“Samhain referring to the first of November – ‘Summer’s end’?” asked

Glen.

“Jesse, why don’t you briefly explain to Mr. Goldberg where he is?”

I hesitantly walked over, and Katie followed me.

“Hi,” I said nervously. He said “hello” back. “Samhain is the name of

the world you’re now part of. Samhain and Halloween mean the same

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thing and both have two definitions. One is the race and one is–”

“The world,” finished Glen. “Am I still on Earth?”

“Yes.”

An employee in a lab suit walked in. Doctor Mad stood up.

“Renee Reek, here, will be your Outer,” explained Doctor Mad. “She

will explain to you everything: how the economy works, how we should

keep away from the human world – everything you need to know. And

she will answer any questions you may have. She will also instruct you

on how to get started in this new environment. Once you’ve settled,

please consider a job here at EZA as a controller. Controllers are

intelligent and magically strong halloweens. It’s a great life, and you will

get great candy benefits.”

Glen looked confused by the last sentence, but appeared to catch on

fast.

Lin came forward. “And you can change your name,” he said. “You

don’t have to keep your human name. I did, but I should have changed

it.”

“Then I think I will go by the name Otis Lion,” he said, now donning

the cloth.

“Why that name?” I asked.

He turned to me and smiled. “Otis was to be my child. He died inside

my wife’s womb. And Lion . . . I always was fascinated by lions when I

was a child. I thought it would be amazing to be fierce and strong like

one. . . . I guess I am now.”

He smiled again and was escorted out the door.

“Otis Lion,”called Doctor Mad. The black halloween turned around.

“How many and what languages do you speak?”

Otis Lion smiled. “Fluently? Thirteen. English, Spanish, German,

Dutch, Japanese, Russian, French, Italian, Hungarian, Czech, Turkish,

Hindi, and Mandarin. I don’t speak Mandarin as fluently as I’d like to

though.”

And he was gone. Doctor Mad walked us out of yet another door,

which brought us back to the main corridor.

“I will take you into one more space before I take you back to Jacoby,”

said Doctor Mad as we strode by some overworked GLC’s who looked

like they were going to faint. “You three are very lucky to have such

unique friends.”

Lin was tagging along in the back, his ears pricked up.

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“A hakin enters maybe every 500 days,” Doctor Mad continued.

“There’s no factual data on that but there are stories. A hakin is known to

many as God’s messenger, a halloween that calls in the deaths. Hakins

tend to become Gravediggers. Jacoby and Malo both possess that special

magic I would hate to bear.”

He stopped outside the door of Space JJJ.

“We’ll go inside in a few minutes. The Entry hasn’t arrived yet.

Meanwhile, let me explain what an ineffective Entry is. It’s an Entry that

can’t recall who he is or is unable to get himself out of his state of shock,

and so he continues going berserk and requires more than a minute to

calm down. The term is also applied to those who have no magic. Katie,

you haven’t said a word, do you have any questions?”

Katie shook her head.

“Jesse and Lin?” he asked.

Lin thought hard while I shook my head. That very second, the walls of

Space JJJ shook from top to bottom.

“Okay, we have an Entry,” he announced quietly. “We’ll give the

Entry a minute . . .”

He peeped in and instantly the window fogged. The room was now

completely quiet.

“That’s strange,” he said.

“What’s strange?” said Lin, trying to peek in. “I can’t see.”

“What’s strange is that it’s quiet. Every Entry summons on average a

thousand times. I’m not tracking any.”

“Doctor Mad, could it be an ineffective Entry?” I asked.

“No,” he said, looking up at a green light flashing next to a none-

flashing red, “it says the Entry is not ineffective. It’s just not conjuring.”

“Would this mean it would be okay for us to go in before the first

minute?” I asked. “Keeping the Entry in there for no reason, wouldn’t

that make it more confused?”

“It would, Jesse, but this never happened before, and we as GLC’s are

told to never go in until that minute is up.”

He looked up at the flashing green light then at the clock below it.

“I’m just going to wait,” said Doctor Mad. “This is one rule I never

break.”

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We all watched the time. One minute passed, and Doctor Mad grabbed

the new clipboard and opened the door. Mist drifted out. Doctor Mad

signaled for me to close the door. The lights from the inside clock had

faded. The room was dark.

“¿Usted habla Español?” Doctor Mad asked to a corner that was

growing darker and darker. “Kyá áp hindí bolte ho? Do you speak–”

A hairy foot stepped out of the dark. The halloween was enormous,

with a thick long coat of fiery red hair. He was taller than Franky. His

head would easily reach as high as a basketball hoop, maybe higher. The

halloween plopped down. He was crying.

“Katie, Jesse, Lin get in front of me right now,” Doctor Mad ordered in

a whisper, gaping at the red hairs rippling in the perfectly still air.

“What is that?” said Lin, without lowering his voice.

Cuffs appeared on the hairy wrists of the creature. The crying stopped.

The Entry stared down at the cuffs, looking confused, then magically

snapped them off and slid them back to Doctor Mad.

Doctor Mad was now looking nervous. He flipped his head around to

consult the columns of buttons.

Doctor Mad spoke promptly and quietly into the door intercom.

“Cathie, stop what you’re doing and get down here this minute. I need

all GLC’s and OG’s.”

“What’s the Entry?” said Cathie’s voice from the intercom.

“It looks to be a kid,” his voice wavered.

“Doctor Mad, you signaled all three lights – you can’t handle an

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yslas?”

“It’s not an yslas. It’s an ozmapel – Cathie, get down here! It’s an

ancient halloween!” His arm was thrown back into the wall, his other

arm twisted by an invisible force, and he was forced to kneel.

Everyone turned to the clock.

“The next Entry is coming in seven seconds,” trembled Doctor Mad,

talking to us. “Go out the door!”

It was too late: the door was sealed off, and the time hit five minutes. A

big ball of light grew in the middle of the room, sucking in dust and

firing it up in a swirl. As it grew dimmer, there in front of us stood a

werewolf. Light tracks shot out of its eyes and would have sliced Lin in

half had he not psyclined just in time. The werewolf began to bare its

teeth as it grew bigger and jumped for the ozmapel. The ozmapel

snatched the werewolf by the waist and carefully set it down. The

ozmapel slowly psyclined out of the room after he made sure the

werewolf wouldn’t attack again.

Doctor Mad was released from the wall, and everything was put back

into place. Cathie came rushing in with ten other GLC’s.

“It’s gone?” panted Cathie. Doctor Mad nodded.

Cathie dispatched five GLC’s to the Haunt House and the outers

further into the forest. Doctor Mad took the werewolf, showing weak

signs of life, to the medical room. Cathie dropped us off inside the

receptionist’s office inside the Halloween Count Station. The walls were

built out of orange bricks and striped with pumpkin wallpaper. The office

had no desk, no chairs and no receptionist. The floor was laid out in

books and journals sealed together with mud and black timber. Jacoby

was talking with a thin halloween in a white robe.

“The population count is a clawful over two hundred and eighty

thousand,” said the halloween, holding to his chest a giant book, swathed

in cobwebs and crawling with living spiders. “Are you expecting a lot of

deaths? More than the Wiskchickian War?”

“No,” lied Jacoby, signaling to Oz and Duma to come to his side.

The record-keeper stole a shy glance at Hess and Franky before

psyclining out of the room. Soundrec and his fellow Night Watcher stood

guard by a brick pillar.

194

“We’re heading to Mollo’s graveyard,” Jacoby told the group.

Hess reached out his hands to Katie and me and psyclined us to a large

corn field. Barely visible inside the dying crop were slanted graves and

moldy pumpkins. An elderly halloween that looked like a human

grandpa was waddling through the tall stalks. He had a full head of white

hair and wore a wide-brimmed farmer hat. All of us arrived at the same

time and waited at the entrance underneath a large archway sign.

M o l l o M i d g i c a l ’ s G r a v e y a r d

Mollo smiled, striding towards us as fast as his old legs would carry

him.

“Jacoby!” he said excitedly, but as he saw Dorian he bowed his head.

“Everyone is here. Is that . . . a black cat?”

“Yes,” answered Jacoby.

“A melaskimel?”

“Yes, Mollo.”

Duma stayed at Jacoby’s side.

“What’s wrong, Jacoby?” said Mollo, glancing at Oz, then at Katie,

and finally at me. He didn’t know who we were, and he didn’t see Lin,

who was messing around inside a corn stalk, cutting the corn with his

knife. Lin wiped his forehead, and a straw hat appeared on his head. He

came over to me, wielding his knife, and snipped off my overgrown

bangs in one swift movement, which had grown past my eyebrows.

Before I could say anything, he went right back to trimming.

“Could we use your graveyard?” asked Jacoby.

“Sure thing, Jacoby. What’s this about?”

“I need your help.”

“Okay. Let me find a spot for you and – Lin, what are you doing?”

“You forgot to trim the field!” he shouted from a distance. He was

already halfway done with the first section of the field.

“I forget to do a lot of things these days. Jacoby, how about going by

the graves we used to dig together? Dorian, remember the old times?”

Dorian shook his head.

Mollo took us over to a patch of dirt, littered with leaves and pumpkin

skins. Some of us found seats among the many gravestones still waiting

their turn to be used. Soundrec and Shreek remained standing. Oz sat

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next to Jacoby and Duma. Katie and I sat on a boulder, shaped like a

couch. She tapped her hand on the stone, and Duma came over and

jumped in her lap. Everyone waited for Jacoby to speak.

“Soundrec, we need a perimeter check,” said Jacoby.

Soundrec flapped his wings and propelled himself into the overcast

sky. Shreek flew along the ground and glided through the field,

disappearing among the stalks. Soundrec and Shreek soon psyclined

back, confirming it was safe to proceed.

“Alright,” Jacoby started, “I want to first talk to you, Mollo. You seem

well, by the way.”

“I’m doing okay,” he said, a tad fidgety. “Today is not looking good

now that Hess is backing out. Thanks, Hess, for thinking I could

outmatch Jake, but I don’t think I can. I’m close to the end of my days.”

“Jacoby, what time is it?” I asked, guessing it was almost one in the

morning Pacific Time.

“That’s not a concern right now,” he said.

“I just want to know.” Sorry, Mr. Moody.

“We’re in the first hour. Alright. Mollo, what is the count?”

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

’

“A good amount,” said Mollo evasively.

“I need to know the exact number, Mollo. Your count may not be

wrong.”

“Did you get a large number?” he asked, sounding uncertain.

“Mollo . . . everyone is expected to die.”

Soundrec, Hess and Franky, all hearing this for the first time, remained

calm, but not Shreek.

“What do you mean?” said Shreek, standing up. “What’s the death

count?”

Jacoby turned to Mollo. “Mollo, what did you pull in?” he asked again

firmly.

Mollo pondered, with his head lowered.

“Mollo?” asked Jacoby.

“Everyone?” muttered Mollo to himself.

“The count is 291,398.”

“That can’t be!” exclaimed Shreek. “The total number of halloweens is

below that.”

“If Mollo’s prediction matches mine, then it’s true,” stated Jacoby.

“Mollo?”

Mollo was watching Lin finish the last section of the corn field. The

graves all poked out of the flattened stalk, now visible from where we

were.

“Mollo?” said Jacoby. “Are the numbers the same?”

“Uh . . . yes,” he mumbled at last. “The count is 291,398. . . . But that

can’t be right–”

“The count is official,” announced Jacoby. “Sometime in the coming

hours the whole race is going to be obliterated by an act of genocide.

Whether by a magical virus or Jack’s assault, halloweens will be

exterminated.”

Everyone remained perfectly still. Jacoby went on about what might

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happen and why the predicted body count outnumbered the halloween

population. Meanwhile, I was trying to get my hands on Hess’s

substitution paper. I knew this was it. Hess had to get someone to replace

him before the end of the first hour. Everyone had turned him down. No

one was going to stand up to Jake.

I looked over at Katie’s watch to see what time it was, but then

remembered that Oz had taken it off that night she tended to her in the

bathtub.

Lin bumped me as I stood up.

“Jesse, stay still while I cut the grass,” said Lin, hacking at the weeds

like they were his enemies. “If I don’t finish in one more minute, there’s

going to be a stink bomb.”

“A what?” I said, almost grinning, but Katie came over and took my

hand.

“I’m going to have to let one fly,” said Lin seriously. “I can only hold

it in for so long. When I come back, ask Katie about what I asked you.

Okay?”

Katie looked at me questioningly, curious to know what Lin wanted

me to ask her. Oh well, it couldn’t do any harm.

“Lin, wanted me to ask you if you wanted to go out with him?” I said

quietly so I wouldn’t disturb the meeting.

Katie looked like she wanted to smile, but she didn’t. I really felt

uncomfortable now. She wasn’t answering the question. She was staring

at me and holding my hand. My first reaction was to get up and walk

away, and that was what I did. Katie inevitably tagged along, all the

while gripping my hand. We went around the side, circling a large

number of empty graves and came up behind Jacoby. I first had to see

what time it was. I had to sign the paper just before the end of the first

hour.

I stealthily leaned in from behind Jacoby while everyone gaped at us.

They kept quiet while Jacoby was talking about what happened to Katie.

“Jesse!” said Jacoby sternly, noticing us. “What’re you two doing?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“Sit down.”

I saw the time. It was five minutes to one. I began to count as I walked

behind Hess. I kneeled down, and Katie kneeled with me. I didn’t think

she knew what I was doing. I sat there and counted down. I was on four

minutes and fifteen seconds – fourteen, thirteen, . . .

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“What you doing?” she murmured to me.

Crapper, she made me lose count.

“Nothing,” I said as I guessed a number. I picked four minutes. I

continued to count down when I noticed that Katie was looking

depressed. I hated seeing her like this. What could I say or do to snap her

out of it, make her laugh? Marvelous spectacles? No. A charade? No.

She never laughed at my jokes. She usually laughed at me.

“You okay, Katie?” I whispered.

She lifted her head and gave me what looked like a half-nod half-smile.

That was good enough for me. Crapper! I forgot I was counting down.

Okay, I just had to go in. No one was going to sign the paper. I reached

for the paper.

“Jesse!” blurted out Lin, and I jerked my hand back.

Everyone turned around.

“Sorry,” I said lamely to them.

They turned back.

“Jesse, you going on an adventure?” said Lin.

“Lin, be quiet,” I said.

“Okay,” he whispered, “but I need to find an adventure because I

haven’t been on one since yesterday.”

“Why don’t you go find one then?” I said, wondering what Lin was up

to now. “Lin, what kind of an adventure?” And then, I had an idea. “How

about finding a secret scroll that, if I sign it, will lead us on a long safari

through Africa to a buried treasure chest filled with Candy Corn?”

Lin’s eyes widened. “Who’s the Captain?” he blurted, but quickly

lowered his voice. No one looked back this time. “The scroll you’re

talking about, where is it?”

“It was in the hands of the evil Pirate Jacoby from Puerto Rico – the

nemesis of our home land – but he gave it to his trusty Parrot Hess.”

Lin was getting into it now, absolutely delighted. Katie was smiling. I

couldn’t believe it. She was finally smiling. I turned back, knowing I

didn’t have much time.

“And I must sign the scroll seconds before one o’clock western time,

my time in San Diego. If I don’t, the scroll explodes, and the buried

treasure will be lost forever.”

“How much Candy Corn?” considered Lin eagerly.

“A hundred – no, a thousand boxes – Lin, there is Parrot Hess and the

scroll.”

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Lin saw it.

“Lin, I need to know what time it is,” I informed him. “And only Pirate

Jacoby has a watch.”

“Gotcha, mate,” said Lin, putting on a helmet and buckling himself up

in a large utility belt equipped with a knife, flashlight, walkie-talkie,

water pouch, and a fly net. He tied leather straps around him and snagged

a rifle, which comically outsized him, flinging it behind his back.

“Captain Jesse, keep Left Feather far from the crocodiles,” said Lin,

conjuring a hard hat on top of Katie’s and my head.

“You mean Katie?” I said.

“Left Feather is her name. I’ll cross the Tooth River and make it to the

monkey. I’m taking the beaten path. It’s a better experience.”

“What crocodiles?” It was then I noticed that Lin had conjured a river

of sleeping crocodiles. Their eyes and nostrils poked out above the

surface. Lin jumped on the raft and used the paddles to quietly push

himself along across the water. A crocodile awoke and bit a piece of the

log. Lin quickly leaned back and dove sideways into the water,

frantically treading water until he caught a rope and pulled himself up

onto the ridge.

He unstrapped the wet walkie-talkie from his utility belt.

“Captain Jesse, do you copy?” His voice was coming out of a walkie-

talkie planted in the grass. Soundrec and Shreek looked back, and I

shrugged. “Captain Jesse, to your left.”

I picked up the walkie-talkie. “Stop shouting,” I said into the walkie-

talkie. “Just figure out the time.”

“Very well. I’m out. Double 33, Devil’s River.”

Lin sprinted around the river bend, not far from where we were seated,

and summoned more crocodiles, even larger. Then, against all logic, he

jumped into the infested river and started swimming across.

“Help me!” he yelled, frantically plowing across the water.

What was he thinking?

Speechless, Katie and I watched the crocodiles submerge and go after

him. Lin swam even faster and hauled himself ashore, narrowly escaping

a jaw snapping for his boot.

“Lin, we’re not in Africa,” said Jacoby, annoyed.

“Be quiet, foe!” trumpeted Lin, grabbing Jacoby’s wrist. “I don’t speak

to pirates. Captain Jesse, we have . . . three minutes!”

That was good enough. I scurried over to the paper and grabbed it.

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“Jesse, what are you – Jesse, no,” said Jacoby worriedly. “Hess!”

Hess’s wings swung open, and I ran, slipping out of Katie’s grip.

“No,” shrieked Katie.

Everyone stared at her. Hess was in the air flapping his wings in one

spot as he turned to her. That bought me some time.

I bolted for the river. “Lin!” I shouted. “I need a pen!”

“There are no pens on a safari, Captain Jesse,” he said and plunged into

the river and scrambled onto a double-deck tour boat. He waited for me

to jump on board, then jammed the ignition stick forward and the giant

boat slowly chugged down the short river. Mummy passengers on the top

deck leaned over the railings, snapping pictures of the crocodiles. A tall

mummy pointed at Jacoby, and everyone snapped a photo of him.

“If you take a look to the right side of the boat,” Lin announced from

the cockpit, “you can see an army of extremely rare red crocodiles, found

only in the Tooth River – oh, look over there, one’s eating his friend!”

We watched the long reptile thrash the cannibal meal across the surface

of the water.

“I have strict regulations! Please do not pursue the hakin monkey! Do

not feed or offer it food. It is most famous for snatching your belongings

and destroying them! Oh, and do not jump into the river unless you are a

professional! The crocodiles will chomp your head off!”

With these words, Lin leapt overboard, screaming like a little girl.

“Crapper, Lin, stop jumping in the water!” I exclaimed. I went to the

edge and pulled him back onto the boat.

“But I am a professional!” he panted.

“Not when it comes to swimming with crocodiles.”

Lin went back to the cockpit, and I went back to clinging to the bottom

railing of the boat. The river grew longer and longer as the boat circled

around the gathering.

“Captain, look out!” advised Lin, looking up at Hess. “It’s a vulture!”

Hundreds of camera flashes went off on the top deck. Hess swooped

down and magically sucked the paper out of my hand.

“Captain!” shouted Lin. “Evacuate, evacuate! The wheel is jammed!”

Lin jostled the steering one more time, and then jumped out. I threw

myself off just as the boat ran up the river bank and exploded into pieces

all over the graveyard. Lin cocked his gun, aiming it at Hess.

BANG!

More cameras flashed.

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SNAP!

SNAP!

SNAP!

A rope web sprung out and snatched the paper out of Hess’s claws.

Stuffing the paper into his belt, Lin jumped into the driver’s seat of a six-

door Land Cruiser as the mummy tourist climbed into the back. All of

the excited mummies fastened their seatbelts and popped their heads out

of the windows, gesturing for me to jump in. Lin peeled out, the

Cruiser’s tail flailing wildly from side to side and raining mud all over

Hess, who just stood there.

The vehicle slowed as it reached me.

“Captain, get in!” ordered Lin out of the driver’s window. “We’re

being chased by bees!”

The front passenger’s door flung open, and I jumped on the ledge and

grabbed the roof. I looked back to see a swarm of bees closing in on us.

“Hold on!” yelled Lin over the roaring engine as he slammed his foot

on the accelerator. I slid in as the Cruiser flew over bumpy terrain,

spraying mud everywhere. Lin was driving like a maniac.

“Captain, I’ve never driven before! Hang on!” shouted Lin, handing

me the paper, and plowing the cruiser across a field of weeds.

The mummies pulled out binoculars and peered out of the windows,

exhilarated, all the while pointing at my friends like they were some

endangered species. Two were sharing an animal pamphlet, studying

pictures and descriptions.

Name: Jacoby

Scientific Name: stupid hakin monkey

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 185 pounds

Color: white

Habitat: Earth

Diet: Probably nasty things like guts and doo-doo.

Predators: anything with a brain

Friends: none; a dead beat

Description: a hakin monkey is a one-of-a-kind, long-living animal that grazes day

in and day out. It is torpid and stubborn, with a story to tell, and will act childish when

it doesn’t get what it wants. The long-limbed hakin is a very filthy animal. It never

grooms or bathes. It tries to attract mates with the stench of its worn sweaty

garments. It has overgrown black hair and skin as white as the sole of a foot. It has

an elongated birthmark around its left arm. Some scientists claim that the hakin is

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related to a nut tree.

–-PAGE 8--

Next to Jacoby’s picture was a picture of a lone tree with a bushy top.

When I turned back around, someone snatched the paper from my

hands.

“Captain, I know how to psyclin chase.”

“Wait, Lin!” I shouted back, but Lin was gone, and I was in the jeep

with no driver. I threw myself from the car as it made a sudden

squeaking turn in front of Soundrec. With magic, Soundrec easily took

control of the jeep, stopping it just as it was about to hit Oz.

Lin then appeared in front of me with a pen and the substitution paper.

“Sign, Captain! The monkey is mad! Sign, Captain, he’s coming!”

I took the pen and signed it. The paper was magically folded,

crumpled, ripped, and then shredded into millions of pieces.

“We did it!” yipped Lin as his eyelids fluttered.

“Jesse, why did you do that?” said Jacoby, stepping through the slow

rain of shredded paper. He was drenched and covered with mud from

head to toe, and so was everyone else: Oz, Duma, Katie, Soundrec,

Shreek, Franky, Hess and Mollo. Somehow, however, Dorian was clean.

I wasn’t surprised.

All of them were glaring at Lin and me.

“Jesse, I think I made a mistake,” said Lin, slowly stepping back.

“What have I done? You have to face Jake now.”

“Hess, can it be re-assigned?” appealed Jacoby.

Hess made a cautious landing on his bad leg. “It cannot,” said Hess.

“We are into the second hour.”

“Hess, are you informing us,” Franky asked pensively, “that Jesse is

going to be in the Jack O’ Games finals?”

“Yes.”

“Jesse, why did you sign the agreement?” persisted Jacoby.

I regretted drenching everyone in dirt, but not signing the paper. Katie

was sitting on a stone, looking ill. I jogged past Jacoby and Hess over to

her.

“You okay?” I said softly.

“I didn’t want you to sign it,” she murmured.

“But Katie, I don’t want my friends to die.”

Katie continued to stare at me, processing what I said. “You trying to

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change it?” she said.

“Yes,” I said as I saw Jacoby making his way over to us. “You think

it’ll work? If I change one thing, this may change what happens, no? I

don’t think fate had me in the finals.”

“It’s a try,” she said quietly.

“Jesse, this was a bad decision,” said Jacoby sternly. “This

championship is the deadliest of the rounds. Why do you think Hess

didn’t sign?”

“Hess didn’t sign because he was injured,” I said angrily. “And

wouldn’t Hess have to compete anyway if he couldn’t find a

replacement?”

“No, Jesse. An injured competitor has the choice to continue or

discontinue.”

Oz was looking worried, striving to grasp what was going on. Jacoby

sat back down and after ten minutes he said, “It is done. Jesse, you’re

now to be in the finals.”

But what if I had been destined to sign the contract? What if every

halloween death wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t signed it? Thinking

about it made me queasy and weak in the knees.

“Katie, can you speak about what happened?” said Jacoby quietly.

I couldn’t believe he would bring that up now.

Katie was still not ready to talk. She shook her head numerous times.

“Jacoby, she’s not ready!” I snapped at him.

Jacoby ignored me. “Katie, it’s important that you try. We need to

know why Jack has taken an interest in you.”

“Jacoby, why didn’t Jack–” Shreek stopped.

Katie flinched and reached for my hand. I sat down next to her so she

could take it.

“Dorian and I can’t figure out why,” persisted Jacoby. “At this point, I

don’t think she is meant to be killed, or at least not yet, not until she

fulfills her purpose.”

“Her purpose?” Shreek sat down as his black wings pierced the

ground. “Why is she so important? She’s a human. That’s what you told

us.”

“Yes.”

My head was throbbing, it was getting hard for me to pay attention.

“Jess, you getting a headache?” said Oz. “I can have Dorian get you

some aspirin at the house.”

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“I’m fine,” I lied. “I just regret what I did,” I lied again.

“Maybe this final match can be good. Hess can teach you some magic,

and you can win.”

Hadn’t she listened to a word of what Jacoby had said about the

games?

“Oz, it’s not easy. You have to see a game to know how it works.” I

said no more because I didn’t want to scare her.

When Oz turned away, I cringed painfully. It felt like someone was

throwing baseballs at my forehead.

Then a vivid memory hit me; an image of text carved across a square

stone.

<it is the evidence of Katie being a Descendant that

makes her knowledge about Halloween fact>

The vision blurred, and my head stopped pounding.

“Jacoby!” I blurted. “Katie is a Descendant! I just remembered!”

Everybody stared strangely at me.

“Whose descendant?” Franky was the first to break the silence.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I just remember seeing text engravings saying

that.”

Dorian, who had stayed in the mud since we arrived at Mollo’s, came

over and kneeled next to Katie.

“Descendants,” said Dorian to himself. He pondered. Meanwhile,

Jacoby came over and sat down beside him. Everyone else gathered

behind them. Lin was offering everyone flat tree stumps to sit on. He

gallantly took Oz’s hand and helped her down.

“Thirsty?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Jacoby?”

“Spidery Lemon would be a delight,” said Jacoby.

“Oz, you sure?”

“Same.”

“Hess?”

“Spidery Lemon.”

Mollo wanted Black River and Acid Milk. Soundrec, Shreek and

Franky declined. Lin walked over to a shed, magically pulled out a

countertop out of nowhere and proceeded to make the drinks.

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After a while, Dorian lifted his head, and the rest lowered their eyes.

He looked straight into my eyes.

“Jesse has recalled a true memory,” he announced.

“We don’t know that,” said Shreek. “I’m a descendant of my father.

That doesn’t mean Jack should come after me.”

“But a halloween doesn’t use the word ‘descendant’,” reasoned Jacoby.

“When he does, it’s of some importance.”

“I agree,” said Franky.

“Me too,” said Lin as he sat down. Mollo was already sipping his

Black River.

“Jesse, can you remember the location of your memory?” asked

Jacoby.

I didn’t want to talk to him, but he was finally listening to what I had to

say. “No,” I replied.

“Did you hear about this at the Entering Zone? Maybe you saw a file

that slipped out somehow?”

“No,” I repeated. “I can remember everything that happened there.”

“Jack killed my parents.”

Everyone turned to Katie, stunned.

“Katie,” Jacoby said shortly after, “about your father . . . was it after he

was killed that you began taking an interest in Halloween?” She shook

her head. “Your father was the one who got you interested in Halloween

then?” She nodded, returning his intense gaze.

Meanwhile, my lips and throat became deathly parched. I needed some

liquid right away. I stood up, with Katie still latched onto me.

“I’m thirsty,” I told her. “I’m just going to get something to drink.” I

gently pulled her hand off. Her widened eyes stayed fixed on me as I

walked over to Lin, still busy at the counter.

I waved back to Katie.

“Thirsty?” said Lin. “I was going to offer you a scary beverage, but I

didn’t want to disturb you.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “Could you fix me up something to drink,

whatever you want to make me. Wait, how about water?”

“Yes, Sir.” Lin hurried over to the rock where there was a variety of

jugs and bowls, as well as mounds of black cabbage, frozen milk, carrots,

sliced apples, turnips, oranges, and other things. He handed me a bottle

of regular water.

“Anything else?”

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“No. Thanks, Lin. I’ll serve myself next time. You don’t have to do it.”

“I like serving people. I know I haven’t lately. I’m sorry for the mix-up

with the contract.”

I smiled. “No, no. You be yourself. And don’t be sorry.”

“Thanks.”

I walked back with Lin, suddenly realizing how much shorter he was. I

hated growing up. It was like now I was distancing myself from him.

I stopped behind the group to see if they were talking to Katie; they

weren’t. They were waiting for me. And so was Katie. She hadn’t taken

her eyes off of me.

“Katie, you say that your mother was killed by Jack,” pressed Jacoby.

“Why would you think that?”

Katie just stared at me. I gulped the rest of my water as everyone

looked back and forth between us.

Jacoby turned back to Katie. “This is important, Katie. I need you to

start communicating. It might be the only way to find out what Jack

wants. Alright? Katie, I’ve looked your mother up. Malena was said to

have fallen asleep at the wheel. There’s no evidence that she was killed

by Jack. Do you disagree?”

Everyone turned back around because she wasn’t looking anywhere

else but at me.

“Jess, come back and sit by Katie,” said Oz.

I walked back over under Katie’s gaze. I looked away, feeling

uncomfortable. I sat down, and she instantly grabbed my hand.

“Jacoby, go ahead,” said Oz.

“Katie, do you disagree with what I said?” She nodded. “How do you

know it was Jack?”

She took a long time to think. “I know,” she said quietly, squeezing my

hand.

“Alright. You’re saying the Ten Dark Deaths are one short?”

She shook her head.

“The count is correct?”

She shook her head again.

“There are more Dark Deaths?”

She nodded.

“Many more?”

She continued to nod.

No more memories came to me, yet I knew what the Dark Deaths

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were.

“Katie,” I started. She turned to me and almost smiled. I smiled back,

collecting myself. “You think you will become the next Dark Death?”

Everyone turned to her. Her eyes were sad. She lifted her head back up

and nodded.

For the first time, Jacoby was letting me speak, and it felt good. I took

a short break before moving on.

“Are these Dark Deaths related?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Do you think the Dark Deaths are your family tree?” I rephrased.

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Did you know you were a Descendant?” She shook her head. “You

know as much as we do?”

She nodded.

So she was a Descendant of someone important and she thought that

she was going to be the next Dark Death. Yet, she had so far been spared

by Jack. He had let her go. And she thought the Dark Deaths were deaths

of the Descendants. That meant the reason why Jack let her go was

because . . . because Katie had another purpose. But what did he want

when he took her? What did she have? Why the Dark Deaths? What did

her father, Frederick, and her mother, Malena, have that Jack wanted? It

is the evidence of Katie being a Descendant that makes her knowledge

about Halloween fact–

“Jesse,” Oz nudged me, snapping me out of my trance.

I had it!

“I think I know what Jack wants,” I said. “I think he wants to know

what her father had told her. Why did he let her go? I don’t know. But

it’s all about Halloween’s origin, which you halloweens don’t know

about, and he told her. She knows more about halloweens than they do.

And Jack is after that knowledge.”

Katie was staring intensely at me now and so was everyone else.

“That’s a bold statement,” admitted Shreek. “What does she know that

we don’t?”

“She knows a lot,” I informed. “She wouldn’t have won the ‘I Know

More Halloween History Than You’ contest. The one run by . . . by . . .”

I had discovered another Descendant. Dorian and Jacoby figured it out,

too. The three of us stood up, but not before Katie did. She knew first.

“What’s going on?” said Mollo with Acid Milk on his lips.

208

“Jesse and Katie,” Jacoby called to us, “we’re heading to Ray’s.”

209

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Soundrec, are we clear to go?” called Jacoby into the sky.

Soundrec and Shreek were gliding through the dark clouds. Soundrec

flapped twice with his mighty wings and then psyclined with Shreek.

“We’re clear,” Jacoby informed us. “Mollo, it was nice talking to you.”

“Jacoby, I’m going to see you again, right?” said Mollo. “We can’t all

be killed.”

“Possibly. There’ll be no reason to dig any more graves. Lin, you have

Henry.”

“Yes, Jacoby,” said Lin. “Anything else–”

Jacoby psyclined Oz, Katie, and me straight to Ray’s front porch.

Duma, Lin and Franky psyclined behind us.

“–you want me to do?” finished Lin.

“No,” said Jacoby.

Dorian had already gone in without knocking. He came back out and

spoke to Jacoby for a moment and then psyclined.

“Where’s Dorian going?” I asked.

“He’s off to warn the other Descendants,” said Jacoby, stepping inside.

The living room was quiet, cold, and dark, as were the kitchen and the

long hallway. Katie and I were about to go upstairs when we heard

Jacoby talking to Ray in the living room, lit by the glowing tips of

Soundrec’s wings.

“Soundrec, I say you don’t have to do that,” said Ray, sitting on the

sofa. “I’ll just turn on the lamp. . . . Henry, I’m sorry, but I can’t judge

the contest this year.”

“That’s okay.”

“The Haunt House will be closing your Festival early today? Yes? I

say, they should because everyone is going to be at the Jack O’ Games.

Hess, don’t you have to prepare?”

Hess had just squeezed through the front door. Him and Franky had to

slouch inside so their heads wouldn’t hit the ceiling.

210

“There has to be few more Jical’s magic you haven’t tried summoning.

I placed a lot of bets on your victory.”

“Ray, Hess is injured,” said Jacoby.

Ray watched Shreek fold his wings and enter through the door.

“Jacoby, what’s going on? Where are the two? Katie! Jesse!”

Franky and Soundrec moved aside so Ray could see us. I managed a

smile. Katie was still holding my hand, looking a bit less shy than before.

“Jacoby, what’s going on?” repeated Ray. “Jesse and Katie, come sit

down.”

We made our way past the others and sat on the couch next to him.

“Ray, may I sit?” said Franky.

“Of course,” said Ray. “Make yourselves at home. Hess, why don’t

you sit too? I forgot the semifinals ended badly. Did you find someone to

take your place?”

Hess bowed to me. Ray didn’t get it.

Jacoby offered Oz the last sofa chair, but she remained standing. Duma

promptly jumped on top of it.

“Ray, Jesse is the replace–” said Jacoby.

“Jesse . . .” Ray mumbled, confused. “I say, how can he when he is a–”

“You haven’t checked the Tolihap?”

“Not all of it. My back started hurting. What am I missing?”

“Ray, I’ll explain everything to you in private.”

Ray sensed at this point that something gravely important was

underway.

“Jesse, I heard you saved Halloween again,” said Ray. “And Katie was

right there – Katie, you okay?”

Ray looked over to her, then at Jacoby, finally noticing Oz. He stared

at her for a while. Now he was beginning to look alarmed.

“Hess, Henry, and Lin, can you wait outside?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” said Franky, tired of slouching.

As he and Hess walked through the door, it magically bent outward to

let them through. Soundrec signaled to Shreek to follow him. Soundrec

accidently broke off the screen door with his left wing.

“Don’t worry about that,” said Ray. “I don’t need one there anyway. I

say, could you widen it for me?”

Soundrec spread his wings to the side and widened the opening.

“That’s much better.”

Lin offered everyone a drink before he left. No one wanted anything,

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and Lin walked out. I heard him pestering Franky and Hess outside.

Now it was just Jacoby, Oz, Duma, Katie, and me.

“Jesse, why don’t you and Katie get something to drink in the kitchen,”

suggested Jacoby.

“Sure,” I said, knowing he wanted us out of the room.

The kitchen was clean and organized. Everything was in its right place.

I brought Katie over to the table.

“So . . . what would you like, madam?” I addressed.

Much to my surprise, Katie released my hand and smiled.

Great, she thought it was funny. Before I could blush, I whirled around

on my feet and walked to the fridge. It was practically empty, there was

no food or drinks. There was nothing but a jug of water and a pitcher of

orange juice on the counter.

I spun back around and said, “Okay, madam, I can offer you cold

sparkling water with something inside, orange juice with something

inside, which looks like a fly, and smashed pumpkin pie.”

She smiled. “Water with something inside,” she said in a low voice.

I turned away, blushing. I stopped my act and poured the water. The

thing floating inside was a plastic spider, which slowly disintegrated and

blackened the water.

I set the drink on the table. She stared at it.

“I guess that something was food coloring,” I informed. “You want

water from the faucet instead?”

“No,” she said.

I noticed another fridge in the corner, opened it . . . and struck gold!

There was virtually a mini grocery store inside, jam-packed with all the

food and beverages one could ask for, all with a halloween flavor. Katie

was right behind me, eagerly peeking in.

“You holding out on me?” she asked, taunting.

“No,” I said, embarrassed. “I didn’t notice it at first.”

We stood there looking inside for a good five minutes.

“I can make whatever you want,” I told her.

“Let’s make Dead Man’s Toes,” smiled Katie.

“Dead Man’s Toes?”

She pulled out a fruit plate of olives, a glass of pink dye, onions, and

cabbage. I was already grossed out by the ingredients.

“And we’re going to eat this?” I said, making a face.

“Let’s make it first,” she said.

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So we took the makings to the table. I saw where she got the name. It

was written on the tape stuck to the plate. We made Dead Man’s Toes by

cutting the olives in half, putting a thin layer of onion on top, stuffing a

smidgen of salad underneath for a fungus look, and covering the olives

with pink dye. We didn’t know if we were doing it right. There were no

instructions, but it was looking pretty good.

Lin came around in the back. “What are you doing? Can I play, too?”

He was already claiming one of the toes. He threw two of them at

Duma in the living room. I went to go retrieve them, knowing Jacoby

would make me pick them up. Jacoby, Oz, and Ray were all staring at

me when I entered.

“I dropped my olives,” I explained. Duma stared at me from the sofa.

He had salad and onions splattered across his face.

Katie and I poured each other another round of drinks, what may have

been Black River with a sugary taste to it, before going outside to the

back to visit the welgos. All of them were nesting in the back, sleeping.

They were beautiful halloweens, black as night and warm as wet

blankets.

Katie came back to me after petting her welgo.

“Hey, Rose,” I said, watching Rose yawn mutely in the back corner.

“How do you like having a girl’s name?”

I chuckled. Katie gave me a tiny glare.

I spent a few more minutes with my own welgo, Duma, thanking her

for saving our lives last Halloween.

“We better get inside,” I told Katie, who was scratching the top of her

welgo’s head. “I’ll visit you again soon, Duma. Okay?”

Duma disappeared into the tall weeds. Katie and I walked back into the

living room.

“Katie and Jesse, take a seat,” said Jacoby, who was sitting on the

couch with Oz.

We sat down on the carpet. Duma stood on the sofa, as if readying

himself for a big jump.

“You’re my family,” said Ray, looking at Katie.

“You have two more relations,” said Jacoby. “Is that correct, Jesse?”

I hesitantly nodded.

“Their names are Nail and Nick Portal,” explained Jacoby. “They live

in Morocco.”

Ray looked from one person to the next, bemused. “Jacoby, I say, this

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is a lot to take in. You are telling me that Jesse is your son. That he is the

second child ever to be born of a halloween and human. And that Katie is

my family. And now I have more?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” said Jacoby.

“And the prediction for today is a complete halloween extinction?”

“Yes.”

“I say, I need a moment to myself. I’ll be back.”

Ray left and came back minutes later with a regular glass of water. He

sat down and patted his knee. Duma jumped up on it.

“Give me a minute,” he said, taking a look at all of us, staring the

longest at Katie. “Jesse, can you pull out that large rectangular book from

the top of the pile there for me?”

I wrestled a large dusty photo album from under a pile of books on a

shelf just behind me. Ray flipped to the back, still thinking, going

through what looked like continuous sequences of names.

“What I have here,” he explained, “is my nearly completed family tree.

Katie, what were your parents’ names?”

“Frederick Pundeff and Malena Más,” she said.

“Before I look, I say, are you okay?” he asked.

She didn’t nod or shake her head.

“I’m proud of you. I say, I would have been a lost soul.” He saw her

holding my hand. “Jesse, you keep her safe. I’m very proud of you, too.

Jacoby mentioned what you did for her inside Jack’s Secret Veil. He also

mentioned that you’ve seen him. I would ask Katie, but . . . I’d like to

know just one detail.”

“Ray, we need to focus on different matters–” said Jacoby, but Ray cut

him off.

“I won’t find peace until I get at least one detail of the creature denied

from Hell. I just need one. I don’t move on until I hear it. Did you never

itch to know what Satan looks like?”

He stopped to stare at me emphatically, waiting for the description. I

didn’t know what to give him. I knew he was dark forest green.

“Jesse, give him one detail so we can move on,” said Jacoby. “We

need to get to Morocco in a few minutes.”

“He’s willowy,” I said.

“How tall?” Ray said keenly. “As tall as Jacoby? Henry’s height?”

“Little taller than a doorway. Seven or eight feet.”

Ray smiled instantly. “Thank you, Jesse. You don’t know how long

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I’ve been waiting for this. Now I just wait for his death. I say, I can go on

now. We’ve got Katie, the only child–” she nodded. “–of Malena Más

and Frederick Pundeff. Pundeff sounds familiar. Where was he born?”

“California,” she said.

“California?” He flipped through the pages and stopped and stared at a

page in the middle of the book. He smiled. “You are my blood. I say,

that’s startling. There was a Pundeff. Ronald and Terry Pundeff are up

ten branches as my tenth great grandparents. They had two kids,

Alexander and another one, who was lost.”

“You know anything about their kids?”

“Just Alex. Brutal and strong. Possibly a great warrior. And then there

are Nail and Nick Portal . . .” He flipped further back. “There is a Port,

and the name of one of the Port’s son’s was Al. They were British.

Sometimes people change their last names. It happens. Why do you think

they are related to us?”

“Because you, Katie, and Nail can read pages from the unopened book

of Halloween’s history,” stated Jacoby. “The first time we met Nail, she

showed a strong sense of Halloween history. Her parents were also

killed. She thinks she is the last of her family.”

“And so did I,” said Ray. “What you say is that Jack is coming after

our whole family to gain information on the Veil of Time?”

“Yes. Unless I’m wrong about this, you’re a future Dark Death.”

“Oh my. That mad halloween. But you told me he let Katie go?”

“For some unknown reason, she is needed alive.”

“Needed? Just a teenager . . . a teenager who every halloween historian

I bet would love to sit down with.”

“Ray, one final question. Who is at the top of the tree?”

He closed the inherited book, not having to look at it. “Costo Rose.

The answer she gave last Halloween. The second biggest human name in

halloween history. I say, Katie, I was proud of you when you got that

correct. I had kept that name secret for twenty years. I thought I was the

only one who knew.”

“Alright, Ray, it’s time for us to get moving,” said Jacoby.

“Morocco?” said Ray, confused. “What are they doing there? I say, it

is a peaceful place.”

Jacoby called everyone back in. Lin was hiding a laugh, pointing at

Hess. Hess stared back grumpily. There was a smashed olive on his neck.

Jacoby had Soundrec and Shreek check our psyclin path to Morocco.

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When they returned, we closed our eyes and were carried to Nail’s home.

Her vegetable garden was dead, but she did have three pumpkins and two

turnips below her window. Modest clay homes with blue doors and

windows lined both sides of the country road. This was a village of

tranquility and rain clouds.

We all arrived within seconds of each other, landing by the side of the

road, where I had once landed two years ago. Jacoby waited for

Soundrec, Shreek, and Hess to catch up before opening the door. Franky

paired with Lin. Duma sat between Oz and Jacoby. Ray, Katie, and I

stood behind them.

“We’ll be back,” Jacoby said to the halloweens. Soundrec made sure

not to step on the plants, but Shreek didn’t care. He didn’t do much to the

garden anyway because his steps were weightless.

“Jacoby!” greeted a five-year-old boy at the door. He had short black

hair and was wearing a long garment.

“Nick, is your mother home?”

He took a long time to comprehend what Jacoby had said and then ran

away. “Mummy! Jacoby! Jacoby!”

I heard Nail’s voice tell him to be quiet. Nail came walking to the door,

sporting her usual cropped hair and a gown made of blankets. She didn’t

look a day older since last I saw her.

“Hello, Jacoby. Dorian just got in a second ago,” said Nail, sizing up

the large group behind Jacoby and Oz. “We might want to all go

outside.”

“They’ll wait,” said Jacoby. “We’ll come back outside in a moment. I

wanted to talk to you first.”

“Okay, come on in. I was serving Dorian some tea. You want some?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Nail, I want to introduce a very good friend of mine. This is Becky.”

The women shook hands, exchanging warm smiles.

“Do you grow your own tea mints?” asked Oz.

“Yeah, I used to. I had to stop because we weren’t getting enough rain.

Would you like to try what I have left?”

“That’ll be great.”

“And this is Ray Castanos,” introduced Jacoby.

They shook hands while Ray studied his newly found relative.

Nail led us into her one-room house. The opened kitchen and bedroom

areas were brightly dressed with ornate carpets, flowerpots, and hanging

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vases. A hamper filled with kitchen appliances rested in the middle of the

room.

Dorian was on the ground, eyes closed, being pestered by Nick. Nick

had one eye closed, trying to tilt his head to look into Dorian’s eyes.

“Nick, stop that!” said Nail, serving Oz a mug of steaming tea.

“Thank you,” said Oz. She took a sip. “It’s really good.”

“You’re welcome. Nick, stop poking Dorian!” She hurried over and

dragged him over to a chair. “Sit!” He jumped back and sat down in the

chair. “Katie and . . . Jesse, right?” she said, looking to have some

important questions.

We nodded as Nick spotted Duma. He immediately jumped off the

chair and ran over and hugged Duma. Duma wriggled loose and darted

away.

“Nick, leave that cat alone,” called out Nail absently, keeping her eyes

on us.

“Momma, can I keep it?” yelled Nick, having chased Duma into a

corner. Before Nick could reach for him, Duma shot between his legs.

She turned to Nick. “It’s not yours. Are you going to stop making me

go crazy?”

“Yes, mummy,” he whined.

“Good. Just sit down next to Katie and Jesse, please.”

Nail waited for him to sit before questioning Katie and me about last

Halloween. She turned out to be more informed than I had anticipated.

She already knew about the deaths of her close relatives in Pantanal,

Brazil. She had visited the site the day after Halloween. What she really

wanted to know was if we had gone into the country that night and seen

what happened. We didn’t get to tell her because Jacoby sat down, which

meant one thing: he was going to talk forever. And so he did, explaining

to Nail in tedious detail all about who she was. She took the news

calmly, and then she and Ray spoke for five minutes about their family’s

history. They tried talking to Katie, but she didn’t say much. Jacoby also

told Nail who Oz and I were and how he wanted nobody to know.

At first, it was all confusing about who knew what about Katie and me,

and whether they thought we were halloweens or humans. But I quickly

figured it out. Jacoby had told the halloweens outside that Katie was a

halloween and a Descendant of an important human. Jacoby trusted

them, but he knew it was too risky to tell the truth with the masme spell

being a constant threat. Lin, however, thought that we were humans one

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minute and halloweens the next. I knew, as did Jacoby, that Lin would

never rat us out, nor would his word ever be taken seriously by other

halloweens.

Nail’s and Ray’s conversation ended when Jacoby finally stood up. He

brought everyone out to the garden, where the others were waiting

anxiously.

“We are going to meet up at the old meeting grounds of Jical’s,”

announced Jacoby, speaking to our halloween friends and moving to the

side of Ray, Nail, Nick, and Katie. “These are the four Descendants.

Their lives will be defended before ours.”

One by one, the doors of the neighboring homes opened, and Nail’s

neighbors came out to see what the commotion was all about. They wore

the traditional drab clothing that covered everything but the face, hands,

and ankles. With some, all I could see were their eyes.

“Jacoby, where’s Meesi?” Nail inquired, clutching Nick’s hand. She

searched our group with her eyes over and over. “You said you would

bring her back to us. She went into hiding again last Halloween.”

“She’s dead,” said Jacoby.

Nail bowed her head.

“Nail, what’s happening?” shouted an Arab man from three houses

away.

“Meesi is dead!” she called out quietly as tears streaked her cheeks.

I turned away, trying to hold back my own tears.

Be strong, be strong, be strong . . .

There were shouts from one home to the next.

“Meesi’s dead!”

“When?”

“Who killed her?”

“Meesi was killed!”

“Who said it?”

“I want to see her body!”

“Not now!” said Nail. She turned to Jacoby and Dorian. “I know you

did what you could to get her back. I thank you for that. You give her

grave a kiss for me.”

“I will,” said Jacoby.

“Meesi?” mumbled Nick. “Mummy, where’s Meesi?”

“She left us, Nick.”

“Where’d she go? Are we going to see her?”

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“No. I want you to listen to me.” She stooped down to his level. “I

need you to act like a big boy now. No pouting or yelling.”

Nick stared at Dorian’s long orange forearm hairs swaying in the cold

breeze. “Like Dorian?”

“Yes, act the way Dorian does.” She stood back up. “Jacoby, can I ask

you one more question? You said a Descendant of Rose must be

protected. From whom?”

A next-door neighbor must have overheard. The lady wearing a green

robe ran over, grabbed Nail’s hand and stared right up at Jacoby.

“Does Ottaggaemenel want to take Nail and Nick?” she asked,

pronouncing Jack’s last name perfectly.

“I’ve told her,” Nail explained to Jacoby.

“Jack does, yes,” Jacoby told the neighbor.

“Talba, go back, I’ll come home in a little while,” said Nail.

“Mummy, I don’t like Jack,” wept Nick, tugging on her garment.

“I know, Nick. But you promised me you would act like Dorian. Can

you do that?”

“Mummy, I don’t like Jack,” he repeated, looking for her to pick him

up.

“Nick, you see every halloween here?” He looked around. “You see

how big they are? They are all here to watch over you and me.”

Nick was still looking alarmed and stomped his feet. Dorian came

over, kneeled down with his eyes closed in front of Nick, and took his

hand.

“Nick, I will be your guardian,” said Dorian.

In a flash, Nick’s terror subsided. “Mummy, did you hear Dorian?” he

yipped happily.

“I did,” she said.

“He’s my guardian,” he smiled, bouncing and tugging at her robe.

“Okay, Jacoby. We’re ready,” said Nail.

The villagers approached and shook hands with all of us. Afterwards,

they raised their hands to us and muttered something in Arabic.

Talba shook Dorian’s hand and held onto it. “Protect them,” she said.

“We give our strength to you.” She said something in Arabic as she

raised her palm toward him. She joined the rest of the villagers, watching

us depart.

“Nick, close your eyes,” said Nail. “Don’t open them until I tell you

to.”

219

Soundrec and Shreek were gone, and so were Hess and Franky. Were

they going to clear the psyclin path? I didn’t think they were. They were

gone too long. I looked at Jacoby. Was he going to clear our path?

Maybe he already did.

“Don’t you have to clear our–” I began.

“Jesse, eyes,” he said.

I closed them.

220

CHAPTER TWENTY

’

Jacoby had to psyclin four times because he had gotten lost. The fourth

time we landed in a dark cave, which was lit by Soundrec’s and Shreek’s

wings. They were our guides, leading us down the steep and jagged

tunnels and through vast chambers of crooked ceilings and cracked

floors.

We filed out of a thin passage and into a cool echoey cavern that was

illuminated in places by large flames flickering along the walls. In the

middle, was a half-empty basin. There was a sense of something lurking

in the dark recesses of the place. The eerie swirling wind, produced by a

slightest of sound, made everyone nervous and uneasy.

I sat down on a log-shaped rock with Katie, who by now was acting

less clingy and more confident. Her eyes were fixed on our wavering

shadows cast onto the rocky floor by a small wooden lantern. The flames

crackled and popped, reverberating through the cavern like distant

thunder.

Katie scooted over to me and grabbed my hand. Everyone settled on

the rocks around the small basin.

“Katie, why don’t you come and sit in the middle,” said Jacoby,

waiting for his echo to die down before continuing. “I want you with

your family. Jesse can stay there.”

She squeezed my hand.

Jacoby stood up. “Before I get started with this gathering of the

Descendants of Costo Rose, I would–”

Jacoby saw Duma scurry into the cavern with a bat’s wing in his

mouth.

“Duma!” I called in a whisper. He gave me his usual stare.

“Melaskimel!”

He came right over and jumped in my lap.

“Jacoby, I would like to say a few words,” said Hess.

“Go ahead,” said Jacoby.

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Hess went to the middle and peered into the black basin before

speaking. “I want to tell everyone,” he addressed, “that I do not believe

in the deaths to come. I have always trusted and respected the prophecies

of the gravediggers, but I believe that if we stand together, the way we

have been, we can detect and prevent any calamity.”

“Hess, we will live by your words,” said Jacoby.

“Yes,” said Soundrec, bowing to Hess.

“I would like to add that I need to prepare Jesse for the finals,”

continued Hess. “He is now a player in the final match of the O’Games

and will be competing against the strongest player I have seen since

ghoul retirement. Jacoby, I want to make sure you understand that a

player must prepare himself magically and mentally. We are not tortics

or ghouls and cannot expect to go in unprepared and win.”

“Hess, you may take Jesse as soon as we’re done here,” said Jacoby.

Oz turned back and gave me a worried look. The violent Jack

O’Games hadn’t slipped my mind till then. I was feeling faint.

“Jacoby!” said Soundrec, facing down the passage with Shreek, their

wings spread out, emitting light into the darkness. “Someone is here. I’m

sensing six. Shreek?”

“There’s seven,” corrected Shreek.

Every halloween in the cavern got to their feet.

“I can’t fight it!” cried Soundrec, bending under a sudden magical

attack. His wings were pushed downward, and he fell onto his face.

Shreek was likewise pushed down to the ground until he was prostrate,

as if in a devout prayer.

A black-bearded warlock – looking to be Jake’s twin – stepped over

Shreek, followed by two monstrous halloweens. They had enormous

muscles and ferocious troll faces. They stomped into the Night

Watchers’ spots. Four more halloweens filed in and circled the basin.

One was a black werewolf, and the other three were warlocks in floating

black robes with the familiar pumpkin symbol and the letters SGC

stitched on their left sleeves. Jacoby immediately sat back down with Oz

and Ray. Lin stayed close to Franky and Hess.

The bearded warlock addressed Jacoby.

“The Samhain Government Control has been clawed,” he stated. “The

head of SGC is Jake Crawl. He will be overlooking this discussion

concerning the Descendants, who Jack is hunting down, according to

you. At my side are the Local Council of Defense, Hector Rolando and

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Cell Willard, and the Chief of Entering Zone Jical Intelligence For

Acquisition, Mufa Pauk. On guard are the Executives of Samhain-

Human Restraint, Crical Yoam and Frarry Hawkons – known as

Scavengers. I am the Keeper of Defense, Jim Labe.”

“This is a private gathering,” declared Jacoby.

“Private meetings are strictly forbidden without a written consent of a

member of the SGC. They are in violation of Rule 144 and subject to

review and penalty by the Haunt House.”

“Where is Forlin?” I threw rudely.

“You are Jesse from the quarterfinals,” he stated flatly. “And next to

you is Katie, a Descendant, who was also there.”

“So?”

“Forlin was not clawed. He will not be enlisted in the SGC.”

“He’s been preparing to take the post forever!” I blurted.

“And he still wasn’t good enough.”

“What do you mean not good enough? I bet you didn’t consider him at

all!”

“Forlin is not on the committee. He did not meet our standards.”

“But he worked so hard.”

“Jesse, no more,” prompted Jacoby.

“This is why we need a Samhain Government,” continued Jim. “We

cannot allow secrets to be harbored in our midst.”

I spotted some official-looking papers in the hands of the Local

Council of Defense halloween. I recognized them right away.

Thank you for considering my suspicions of this extremely

heinous crime,

Forlin, quebellion hew, EnT2404

These were the lost treaty papers, proof that there had been a welchick

witch massacre in HD 2394.

“What are you doing with Forlin’s documents?” I asked.

“Jesse, don’t press it, it’s not your–” said Jacoby.

I cut him off. “No, I want this answered. Jim, it’s in the council’s

hand,” I indicated to make sure he understood.

“Jesse, these papers are the property of the Haunt House,” he retorted.

“You stole them!” I shouted.

“In just moments, Jesse, you will be reprimanded and penalized for

you insolence and past actions, but now I want this meeting to continue.”

223

Katie pulled at my hand, as if to say, no more.

“Jesse, you will release Katie’s hand,” commanded Jim. “We have

ruled that there will be no show of affection of any kind in Samhain.

Affection leads to progeny. This regulation, Rule 421, has been signed

thirty minutes ago. Whoever disobeys this rule after a second warning

will be sentenced to two full days at the Haunt House, where they will be

subjected to serious punishment.”

Katie and I let go of each other’s hands.

“Jacoby, you may proceed with the Descendants’ meeting.”

Jacoby stood up while the Local Council of Defense, Rolando, stood

behind Hess, and the second council, Willard, stood behind Franky.

Pauk, the Chief of Entering Zone Jical Intelligence For Acquisition,

wearing a shiny coat, stood next to Jacoby.

Jim went over to Dorian. “But before you start, Jacoby, I would like to

mention Rule 12: Dorian Kel must remain a distance of one hundred

claws from any samhain. This regulation will take effect the moment we

complete this meeting.”

“This is a corrupt government!” snarled Hess.

“Rule 13 states:” Jim went on, ignoring Hess, “the menala, Dorian Kel,

will be prohibited to participate in the four festivals or attend any

gathering of ten or more samhains. The death penalty will be carried out

should he refuse to obey.”

Dorian kept his head bowed.

“Jim, I don’t know who you are,” said Nail, “but you’re discriminating

against a kind and honorable halloween.”

“Are you a Descendant?” inquired Jim.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Oz, standing up with Nail. “Because you’re

afraid of him–”

“And who are you?”

“Banksia, don’t,” prompted Jacoby.

“There will be no further interruptions,” concluded Jim. “Jacoby,

begin.”

Jacoby stood there for a moment, contemplating, before he turned to

Jim. At that moment, I suddenly noticed that Jim seemed to be wearing a

long brown wig. Or was he? One thing for sure: something about him

looked fake.

“I am going to start then,” Jim said, “by asking Nail Portal who Jack is.

Beware, if one of you shows a lack of respect or dismissive behavior of

224

any kind, such an offender will be put to death. Secondly, as Jacoby and

some other samhains here can testify, it is pointless to lie in the presence

of a minical. Nail Portal, who is Jack? I want a comprehensive answer of

what you have been told by your parents.”

Nail pushed Nick next to Dorian. “No one knows who Jack is.”

“But you know his name?”

“No. His given name is Jaculus Ottaggaemenel, given by a ten-year-

old boy living in Spain during the Veil of Time. Jack’s real name was

never discovered.”

“Is that all you can tell me? Did you not know that he was banished

from Hell for his heinous pranks and from Heaven for the undefeatable

evil inside of him? Did you know that Heaven and Hell clashed with

Jack?”

“They failed. J.S. Halloween was defeated by Jack seventy-seven days

after the creation of Halloween.”

“Samhains are correct then: J.S. Halloween was a son of God.”

“So says the tale,” she agreed.

“A tale is made up,” he debated.

“Over time, a fact can turn into a tale.”

“Do you believe the tale?”

“I believe J.S. Halloween was the son of God.”

“I have also heard a tale that samhains are the army of God. Do we

have a higher purpose? Are we expected to defeat Jack?”

“I don’t think halloweens have a higher purpose, no.”

Jim pondered and then looked over the basin at Ray. “Do you believe

Nail? I have heard different stories of who Jack is. I have heard that Jack

is Satan.”

“Yes, there are many tales in circulation,” said Ray, looking whiter

than usual. “And I think Nail is correct.”

“Ray, how much of the Halloween folklore passed down in human

textbooks is actually true?”

Ray was obviously reluctant to speak.

“Ray, if you do not answer–”

“Not much. The Jassum’s folklore contradicts most of the writing in

the Roman books, which serve as the main reference for all human

textbooks. The Romans wrote the story. The Jassums told the story.”

“Can you tell us which is and which isn’t true?”

“I say, I’m in no position to do so. I haven’t read a book on the Celtic

225

culture in a long time. I don’t remember much.”

Jim glanced back to the minical werewolf, Pauk. “That’s good, you

were telling the truth, Ray. Let me ask you this: did the Celts and the

Jassums ever unify?”

“Are you aware that they were the same people? It was only their

religious views and interpretations of teachings that separated them.”

“I am aware of that.”

“Lady Wilde wasn't far from the truth in her book Mystic Charms and

Superstitions. They didn’t unify their beliefs because it was a ghost

religion.”

“Good. Now I want to talk about Dorian.” He moved away from the

basin, brushing past Dorian, and walked to Katie and me. Katie fidgeted.

“You are the fourth Descendant?” he smirked. “Katie, did your father

tell you about Dorian Kel?”

She took a while to shake her head. Jim double-checked her response

with Pauk, and then turned back.

“Do you know why Jack murdered three of the four menalas?”

Jacoby shot up from his rock. “Jim, it is irrelevant why Jack is coming

after them,” protested Jacoby, clearly not wanting Jim to find out why

Jack went after the menalas.

“Sit,” Jim commanded. Jacoby sat. “Katie, answer my question.”

She nodded.

“What is the reason? Will he be coming after Dorian?” She nodded.

“For?”

“Second Entry,” she said softly.

Something got his attention, and he strode over to speak to someone

who must have been using the ugo.

“Mr. Willard and Mr. Rolando, secure Dorian,” prompted Jim. “He is a

threat while this meeting is in session.” He walked back to Katie. “Has

Jack gone after Dorian already?”

She didn’t answer. She was silently glaring at the warlock.

“Katie, answer,” cried Oz.

“Katie, I’ve stated the consequences clearly,” said Jim firmly. “A one

hundred percent Binlisac can kill a human.”

“Yes, he has,” I hastily answered for her.

“Katie?” Jim didn’t look at me.

Katie nodded. I could hear Oz exhale.

“Are you informing me that Jack is living outside Samhain?” said Jim.

226

She nodded.

Jim stepped away from her, as everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of

relief, and walked to Dorian. “Keep your eyes down,” ordered Jim.

“There will be a third regulation: you will remain with your head bowed

at all times in the presence of a samhain. Dorian, who else has–” He

made his way over to Jacoby. “When did you Second Entry?”

“Some time between Human Year 1914 and 1924,” said Jacoby.

“Why at that time?”

“I can’t remember living outside before that time.”

“Nail?” He turned to her. “Did you know about Dorian?” She nodded.

“What had you been told?”

“That he is a cursed menala,” she answered.

“Why can Jacoby look into his eyes and not crumble under this curse?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know he could.”

“Jacoby, how do you counter it?”

“I don’t know.”

Jim checked Jacoby’s answer with the werewolf; it was the truth.

Frankly, I myself found this confusing.

“I have been thinking,” Jim said to Nail. “Dorian is part of the plan to

kill Jack. He has been given the magic to give halloweens a longer life so

they can become stronger and wiser through Jical’s magic, which they

could never do in fifty days. And before I ask Dorian, do you think

Dorian has been secretly building an army?”

“No.”

“Do you think after Second Entry you can counter the olisvmasian?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Dorian, how many have performed Second Entry?” he asked briskly.

“One,” he said with his head bowed down.

Jim checked twice with the werewolf. “Do you know how to

accomplish a Second Entry? Can you get me in right now?”

He shook his head; he wasn’t lying.

Jim thought for a while and then walked up to Ray. “Who is Costo

Rose?”

“Rose was a prophet,” Ray explained, “who predicted the day the son

of God would create Halloween.”

“If Jack is indeed after your knowledge, we need to know everything,

so we can find out his purpose. Explain further.”

“Rose was eleven years old when he made the prediction of

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Halloween.”

“Go on.”

“Just before Rose’s death at sixty-four, he related to his only child,

Bersal, the story of Halloween.”

“I have heard those words many times before.”

“In that story lies the explanation of what happened on the first day of

Halloween. No one can account for that day. Not even a Descendant.

Bersal never passed the story of Halloween to anyone.”

“That contradicts the importance of a Descendant, doesn’t it?”

“No. Bersal was the first human to chronicle Halloween. His father’s

story inspired him to study the life of halloweens. Bersal lived during the

Veil of Time. A Jackologist or a Samhain Historian cannot tell you much

of that time period. That is the importance of a Descendant. They

recorded the events of Halloween.”

“This chronicle . . . where is it?”

“There is no book,” said Ray. “He wrote it in his memory. There is no

physical account of the Veil of Time. Do you understand now the

importance?”

“Say no more,” said Jim, grasping the situation. “Nail, were the

Jassums scared of Jack?” She nodded. “Can you explain?”

“Jassums were scared of very few halloweens, and the one they feared

the most was Jack. They believed the smell of a rotten turnip would keep

him at bay. Jack never touched a Jassum in the Veil of Time, and so, it

must have worked.”

Jim looked back at the rock and then asked Nail, “Is Samhain a title or

a name?”

“Both.” She saw that it wasn’t a long enough answer so she added to it.

“Samhain originated as a name and later turned into a title.”

“Good. Back to Rose’s family. How many kids did Bersal and his wife

have?”

“They had two kids. One died at five . . . and one ran away at ten and

was never heard from again. But the Rose tree evidently didn’t die

because a century later Halloween customs and stories began spreading

over Europe.”

“And how many Descendants are left?” asked Jim.

“I don’t know.”

Ray didn’t know either. Jim walked over to us and asked the same

question.

228

“She doesn’t know,” I answered for her.

She doesn’t know, she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know . . .

My words echoed over and over in my head until an image of text rose

before my mind’s eyes.

<the death of Lucadia Samos - Descendant Count:164>

<159 Descendants are slaughtered in Brazil - Descendant Count: 5>

“Katie, do you know?” Jim pressed his question, never looking at me.

She shook her head.

“Does anyone know how many Descendant are left? . . . Hess? . . .

Henry?” Jim checked with Pauk the minical werewolf if it was true.

“Soundrec? . . . Shreek? . . . What about you, Lin?”

I was praying he wouldn’t turn back to Katie and me, but he did.

“Jesse, do you know?”

“About?”

“Do you know how many Descendants are left?”

Oh, great. What could I do? I couldn’t lie. The minical werewolf was

there. Everyone was looking at me.

I nodded.

“How many?” said Jim.

“Five,” I muttered.

“There’s four here. Who’s the last one? . . . Jesse, how do you know?”

“I’m not a Descendant,” I assured him.

He verified my answer. “Okay, so you are not. But then who is the last

Descendant?” He scanned the room. Out of the general silence came the

sound of footsteps splashing heavily across the basin. At first, I thought

they were heading for Katie and me. But I was wrong. They were

moving towards the exit. A raspy voice resounded.

“Take Katie and Jesse. Binlisac Dorian full degree. He shall be

sentenced to solitary confinement for the remainder of his life.”

The temperature changed. The unseen halloween must have psyclined

out of the cavern.

“We have ten Night Watchers and twenty blackian vampires outside,”

said Jim, addressing Jacoby and Dorian. “Punishment for fleeing will be

death–”

Jacoby and Dorian exchanged a few hushed words, and then Dorian

was gone.

229

“Where is he?” Jim turned to the werewolf. “Chase him down! Send

orders out to kill him!”

“He cannot be psyclin chased,” grumbled the werewolf. “He is out of

the country.”

“Warn the Night Watchers!”

“I have control of my fleet,” said Shreek. “They will not take orders

from–”

“The Haunt House has control of your fleet, and the Haunt House is

under the SGC,” refuted Jim. “I think they will do as we tell them.

Everyone is free to go. Katie and Jesse will be coming with us, for aiding

Hess Ruferd in the Jack O’ Games’ quarterfinals. Their punishment will

be determined and carried out at the Haunt House–”

“You’re not taking my kids,” said Oz.

“Banksia, we can’t interfere,” said Jacoby.

What was he talking about? He had to interfere! He was the one who

said the Haunt House would kill humans for entering the Jack O’ Games.

“Run!” prompted Oz.

And we did just that. Katie and I both took off, sprinting out of the

tunnel right between the frightful Scavengers.

“They will grow tired,” I heard Jim’s voice echo behind us.

Katie picked up the bottom of her gown, and I picked up the bottom of

my robe, and we sprinted out of the cave and into a forest. We lifted our

knees and went for it full speed ahead, flying past the vampire guards,

unnoticed. The Night Watchers were circling overhead, trying to locate

us, but they couldn’t spot us either.

It wasn’t until twenty minutes later that Katie started to lag. Sweat

poured down our faces, and our gowns were drenched.

“I can’t run anymore,” she panted.

“We have to keep going!” I said.

“I’m going to fall.”

But she didn’t, somehow managing to keep up with me stride for

stride. I finally relented and slowed down. Before I could catch my

breath, I was seized and lifted into the air by one of the Scavengers. But,

even as I was being whisked away, all I could think of was: why hadn’t

they psyclined earlier? Maybe they couldn’t.

230

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The Scavengers psyclined us up to the two massive wooden doors at

the entrance to the Haunt House. The Scavengers stayed behind us as the

heavy doors boomed open, and we could see Jim standing in front of a

second set of large doors at the end of the orange-carpeted corridor.

Three giant spider chandeliers lit the large interior.

The Scavengers growled for us to get moving. The carpet was old and

spongy. It felt like walking across a mattress. The walls were laid in

black stone and decorated with imposing portraits of sneering

halloweens. At the end of the hallway, framing a massive door, were

portraits of Jake and Jim, two bearded Japanese warlocks.

Head of Samhain Government Control,

Tokuma Jake Kimura

quelix warlock HD 2420 - present

Keeper of Defense & Jack-Defense,

Cheng Jim Yun-Sun

quelix warlock HD 2427 - present

“Banksia thought we wouldn’t catch you,” Cheng stated with an

arrogant grin, his head almost reaching the massive doorknob. “I do

admire your courageous run, Jesse. You didn’t psyclin or silbal . . . you

just ran. I’m impressed. Follow me. I will take you to the place where

you will get your MPR and HPR.”

MPR? HPR? It sounded like we were going to get vaccine shots.

“Did you know, Jesse, that the first time I saw you at the games, I

knew you were a human? The punishment for a human entrance is death.

However, I cannot kill Katie, a Descendant.”

Cheng was looking at Katie, who was clinging to me. He guided us

through a pumpkin-lamp lounge, where warlocks and witches were

231

mingling merrily. A few reclined on couches around tables, each topped

with a lamp and a bowl of candy. The same black-suited skeletis pianist

that I had seen last Halloween was effortlessly fingering a one-pipe

organ, which bellowed like a hundred-pipe organ.

“You will not be released until the samhain inauguration,” Cheng told

us, noticing that our attention was on the pianist, boldly building to a

spellbinding climax, accompanied by an invisible choir. “The samhains

you see will remain captive here until our announcement even if we

cannot currently put them to use.”

He continued walking through the giant lounge as Katie and I stopped

to read a billboard propped up on a nearby table.

SGC employment opportunities:

____________

Samhain Historian

Daily salary: 5900 CC’s

Requirements: samhain credentials in Level Two Geojackology and Advance

Veil of Time History + human MA in history, bioengineering, or geography +

certified knowledge of biomedical engineering and basic biology or a PhD in

Molecular, Cell, and Developmental Biology

Geojackology Investigator

Daily salary: 9090 CC’s

Requirements: twenty years of experience in human botany, environmental

studies, biology + samhain credentials in Level Ten Geojackology + a title of a

scholar of Wars of Jack + in-depth knowledge of the Darth Deaths +

willingness to travel + availability to meet and consult with the head of SGC +

ability to endure a minute with a morcal sarsca

Cheng waited for us at the opposite side of the lounge. The next room

was filled with long tables, seated with warlocks and quebellion hews

who were reciting documents and calculating stacks of spreadsheets.

Sometimes the halloweens would get up and hover back and forth,

floating the papers along with them as they studied them.

“Got it!” exclaimed a quebellion hew. “Two million CC’s were not

accounted for in Asia!”

“Report it,” ordered Cheng as we strode by the tall halloween.

232

“Yes, sir.”

The back part of the room led to thick metal cages, holding brawny

werewolves. The halloweens snarled and huffed loudly, but behaved,

never lunging or snapping at the bars. They did look disgruntled and

dangerous, however, causing Katie and me to quicken our step.

“What did they do?” I asked Cheng.

“Nothing,” he answered, making us walk into an office. He remained

at the doorway. “Here, you will wait. The Haunt House is charmed. You

cannot psyclin out of it. Mr. Aforb will be with you shortly.”

Cheng shut the door. The ice-cold office was furnished with two

bookshelves, two tables, two couches, and two pumpkin-lamps. Howling

skulls were flying in and out of the room through the walls. I dodged one

as it flew past us.

“I don’t want do die,” wept the skull quietly.

We were surrounded by hundreds of them, their hollow doleful eyes

fixed on us, as they lamented in long wails.

“Who are you? Have you seen my ma? I can’t find her. She went into

the forest. It’s been three days – what are you doing in my cabin? Get

out!”

“Stop cutting into my head! It hurts, doctor!”

We took a seat on the ripped couch and waited for a few minutes,

trying hard not to listen to them. Another skull sailed past us, with tears

streaming out of its empty sockets.

“Maaahmeee! You’re strangling me! Mahme, I can’t breathe!”

“Jesse and Katie?” said a soft male voice from the doorway. A brown-

boned skeletis was standing there, with a characteristic military posture.

We hurried over to him.

“Follow my talus bone,” he said quietly, walking through an opening

in the wall. “My name is Goss Aforb. I am here to give you your S-MPR

and S-HPR.”

Much to our relief, we left the wailing pandemonium and entered a

room where everything was upside down. Chairs and tables clung to the

ceiling, and large chandeliers sprouted out of the floor. The properly

aligned lanterns on the walls were the only thing assuring us of the laws

of gravity.

Goss Aforb clanked his foot bones on the ground to hurry us along. We

shuffled over and entered a round dungeon with tall stone walls, which

disappeared into the heavy fog high above us.

233

Katie tugged on my shoulder to get my attention. Goss’s bones were

shrinking as rubbery skin grew over his body. His skull elongated into a

beak and sprouted a black beard. He was now five feet tall. He stared up

at Katie for what seemed like an eternity, and then shifted his eyes and

stared at me in a most unnerving way.

“Jesse, do you know what I am?” he said in a different voice, much

higher and huskier than before.

I shook my head.

A black-hooded cloak appeared on him, with long sleeves hanging past

his glassy fingers and the hem undulating softly above the floor. His

beak drew back into the shadows of his hood.

“Katie, step into the light,” he said.

I hadn’t noticed until now, but piercing the fog in the middle of the

dungeon was a beam of green light.

Katie stepped into the light.

“This is the S-MPR,” he mentioned. “If you look over to your left, you

can follow your rank.”

I looked over at the inscription on the wall. It read “Samhain Magic

Potential Range” and had some strange numbers inscribed below it.

“I was ordered to determine your rank,” said Goss Aforb.

Suddenly, negative numbers appeared and the negative 1.11 glowed.

Then negative 2.22 . . .

It stayed glowing on negative 4.44 momentarily, then dimmed. Goss

Aforb gestured to Katie to step out of the beam.

“Jesse, I will not be informing the SGC of your rank,” said Goss

calmly. “But I still will like to test you one more time. Step into the

light.”

What was he talking about? I had never been tested.

“Do you know what you are?” he asked me, noticing my confused

look.

“Yes,” I said hesitantly. “A biffle warlock.”

“With no magic? Step into the light.”

I stepped inside. After a moment, the negative numbers appeared and

the set of boxes glowed, just as it did with Katie a minute ago.

“A negative 4.44 is the human rank,” Goss Aforb explained.

“However, you are not a human. In just moments, every box will light

up, reaching the topmost Rank and then returning to negative 4.44.”

After two minutes, exactly what he had predicted happened: every box

234

lit up, all the way up to the top. Then the lights went out, and negative

4.44 remained lit.

“Jesse, step aside,” he said.

Katie and I stood side by side, watching the light change from green to

red and the inscription alter by one word and a letter.

Samhain - History Potential Range

(S-HPR)

3.33

“Jesse, enter the light,” said Goss Aforb.

We waited for a minute as nothing appeared and then the 11.1111 set

of boxes glowed. Goss waited another minute after the glow faded.

“Step out,” he told me. “What you know and what you have gone

through and seen has given you a high Rank, higher than ninety percent

of the halloween population. On the other bone, a Descendant ranks as

high as the ancient halloweens. If the General is correct, she will. Step in,

Katie.”

Katie stepped in and instantly the 1.11 glowed. One by one each of the

set of boxes glowed. It stopped on 16.1616 and then shot through the

remaining boxes right up to the top Rank of 22.2222.

The red light vanished, and the inscription disappeared. Something had

caught Goss’s attention. He peered through the wall, and the next

moment the keeper of defense walked through. Cheng was see-through

when he entered, gradually becoming opaque as he made it through the

wall.

“What are their ranks, Mr. Aforb?” he asked eagerly, unfazed by

Goss’s altered appearance.

“Katie ranks 5.55 S-HPR,” he said.

“Did you make sure it was accurate – did you wait?’

“I ranked her twice, and the outcome was the same.”

“She didn’t seem to know that much at the meeting,” Cheng said,

pondering briefly. “I guess her family branch hadn’t been told as much

as some others.”

“That may be correct.”

“And Jesse?”

235

“An average biffle rank – 3.33 S-MPR and negative 1.11 S-HPR,” he

lied again.

“Okay, your work is done then,” ended Cheng. “You may now leave

out of the east wing–”

“What is going to happen to them?” Goss said.

Cheng was taken aback by this unceremonious query. “If you must

know, Mr. Aforb, they will work in CC accounting and do outside work

in the–”

“Scavenger work?” interrupted Goss again. “Cheng Yun-Sun, I need to

speak to you in private concerning your disguise and the fate of these

two. Mind you, whoever harms them in any way will surely suffer death.

Cheng, please follow me.”

Goss slowly floated upwards towards the fog. Cheng’s long beard

bristled, and angry fumes came billowing out of his mouth. But he

curbed his rage and followed Goss.

“What is your race?” asked Cheng, climbing through the air as though

he was walking up an invisible staircase.

“I do not have the authority to reveal my race,” Goss stated. “I am

offering you and Kimura a chance – as you did for me when I presented

myself. . . .”

Their conversation faded into the fog.

“You know them?” said Katie quietly.

“No. Do you know them?”

She shook her head. “Let’s go,” she said.

“I don’t think we can make it out of here. There are too many

halloweens.”

At that moment, Goss and Cheng landed back onto the stone floor.

Goss was still hooded, and Cheng’s beard had relaxed and was hanging

calmly below his chin.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Aforb,” Cheng concluded, “but Mr. Kimura and I have

our own plans. We are not interested in your offer. I have called for

assistance to escort you out. I know Katie is very important and Jesse is a

biffle warlock. If you think he’s important, I will look into it, but now–”

“Don’t bother, Yun-Sun, I will escort myself out–” said Goss Aforb,

cutting himself off and psyclining off.

Cheng grunted as the doors opened for us. “Get moving,” he ordered.

He took us back into the room with the accountants. I was half-

expecting to see Otis Lion, thinking he might have become a halloween

236

accountant, but he wasn’t there.

“Get started,” Cheng spat out gruffly, pushing me into a seat. Katie sat

next to me. “I want the Monster Mash Royalty Report for 2445 and 2446

floated to my desk in two hours.”

He scolded a couple of quebellion hews on his way out and cursed a

warlock’s arm with a low percent binlisac. The warlock clutched his arm

as he staggered to the first cage in the back. “Please counter it!” he

appealed to a caged werewolf, clutching his cursed arm to his chest.

The werewolf bared its teeth grumpily, however, decided to help him,

snorting a cloud of red fumes on the shriveled arm.

“Thank you so much,” the stricken warlock murmured as he slowly

backed away.

“Let me out,” snarled the werewolf.

“But I would be killed.”

“Let me out!”

The warlock darted away.

Katie and I turned back to the stack of papers on the table.

MONSTER MASH ROYALTY REPORT

CC INCOME FOR HD 2445 & 2446

2% H. FRANKENSTEIN (50% TO Yellow Guts)

25% SAMHAIN FESTIVAL ADMINISTRATION

.05% SGC ACCOUNTANTS (ACCOUNTANTS: 50)

70.5% SGC

MONSTER MASH TIMES: 5:01, 6:05, 7:33, 8:38 -page 13-

CANDY SUM CC VALUE HF SFA ACC. SGC

Ghoul Cakes 8

Gobstoppers 76

Gold CC’s 49

Gold Mine Gum 12

Goo Goo Cluster 545

Gooballs 3411

Good & Gross 22

Grapeheads 45

Gum Drops 89

Gum Pops 34

Gumballs 63

Gummy Bears 592

237

Gummy Brains 893

Gummy Guts 271

Gummy Worms 251

Gummy Spiders 271

Gummy Teeth 232

Gummy Welchicks 12

MONSTER MASH TIMES: 5:01, 6:05, 7:33, 8:38 -page 13-

Katie and I just stared at the gobbledygook in front of us, not knowing

where to start. How could we start when we didn’t even know the candy

currency of CC’s?

“It’s a hundred pages,” whispered Katie in despair.

I glanced back at the previous pages, which were neatly filled in with

writing, but I still couldn’t figure out the currency conversion of each

candy to Candy Corn. Katie craned her neck to peek at a quebellion hew

seated next to us who was magically scribbling away, filling out his

royalty papers for the Ghost Land Incorporation.

“Hey, butt-looker, why don’t you find somewhere else to look!” the

testy halloween growled at Katie. He floated his papers jealously away

from our eyes, moving to a different bench.

“Butt-looker?” smirked Katie.

I laughed. It was then that I saw a young melkian gargoyle growling

sleepily under his breath. It was Peter, a friend of Hess’s.

“Peter!” I called out in a whisper.

“Quiet, you snot-talk!” snapped an aggravated warlock.

Peter snarled at him.

“They finally caught you, did they?” Peter sighed, not bothering to

whisper. None of the accountants protested. “I let the Scavengers catch

me – they were going to hire a hanalin ghoul. What kind of punishment

did you get?”

“What types are there?”

“According to the prisoners, the easiest punishments are named after

the weakest halloweens and the hardest after the strongest. Jack

punishment is the worst.”

“Peter, ‘CC’ stands for Candy Corn, right?” I asked. “We have to do

the royalty report for the Monster Mash.”

“Yes.”

“Could you, uhmm . . . tell us how to convert each candy to Candy

238

Corn?” I asked.

“Here, let me see,” he said, rummaging through our stacks of papers,

“it should be in here. Here we go. This gives you every candy

conversion. You know how to do the rest, right?”

I nodded.

“How do we calculate it?” whispered Katie. “We don’t have a

calculator.”

“Yeah, I can’t count in my head either. You can have mine. I just

finished. I have to go now. I still have to do my last punishment.” He

came back. “Do you know who Hess found to replace him? Did he get

Jacoby?”

“He got me,” I whispered. “Well, I mean . . . I signed the paper behind

his back.”

“Are you eating Chocolate Crazy Critters?” erupted Peter, but quickly

composed himself.

Why did I tell him? Crapper! “Hess said he would train me,” I put in

sheepishly.

“Can I help?” He whispered. “I’d be glad to, just as soon as I get out.”

“Sure.”

“Great.”

Peter dashed out of the room, leaving behind two calculators. Katie and

I started working on the CC conversions. We took the CC fraction that

the candy was worth and then multiplied it by a given amount. We took

the resulting number, the “Value”, and multiplied by the factor of “.02”,

which gave us Franky’s CC total. I couldn’t believe the SGC was taking

70.5 percent of the total earnings. To go faster, we split the stack

between us. Katie never once needed help and finished her pages before I

did.

“How much more do you have left?” I asked Katie after two hours.

“One more . . .” she said, never lifting her head, calmly punching in the

last number. “Done.”

We calculated the totals due and converted those back to candy,

narrowing things down to four candies. We could get either 18 Gummy

Gravediggers, or 15 Scream Bits, or 16 Chunks, or 10 Candy Corns.

Katie and I picked Gummy Gravediggers.

“Finished?” said Cheng, standing over us.

All of the accountants pretended to work intensely.

“Two hours have passed. By now, this should have been on my desk,”

239

said Cheng icily.

I handed him the stacks, and he skimmed through them at lightning

speed.

“You have two errors. I want them corrected in two minutes, or you

will be given a second stack,” he said, staying behind us.

Katie and I rummaged through as fast as we could, but it was like

looking for a needle in a haystack. We racked our brains in vain for a

solution. It was impossible. There was just no way –

I looked up to see Katie neatly filling in two blank lines from her stack.

“Okay, that’s good enough,” he said, snatching the last page with the

totals due. “I don’t know why you added yourselves to the list of

royalties’ recipients when you are not SGC accountants. You’re getting

punished – not rewarded. Get up and follow me.”

He took us to his office, where he sat down immediately, proceeding to

write something on the top sheet.

“What are you doing?” I asked, leaning in, to see he was altering the

royalties. “You can’t take fifty percent of their money! You’re already

taking–”

“My share is half of everything,” he cut me off.

“But you already get seventy percent!”

“No, I have a separate account with the SGC.”

“You’re a crook.”

“Now . . . you are to help track down an ozmapel who had escaped the

Entering Zone in the first hours. His name is Abe Kelvin. You will be

dropped off at Glendale Road in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. You will talk

to the ozmapel’s human father and find out about the boy. If you find out

the location of the ozmapel, you are to call me at 5003.”

240

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Without grabbing our hands, Cheng psyclined us to a broken-down

home on an urban street, and then disappeared. The entire block was

dark, with only one house seen in the light from a single streetlight. The

house was pink, with bars over the windows. There were no pumpkins or

Halloween decorations anywhere in sight, only trashed lawns strewn

with debris of every kind, rickety fences, beat-up cars, graffiti, and a

distant radio blaring rap music.

We walked up to the pink house and climbed onto a rickety porch,

tiptoeing nervously across the creaking floor. The doorbell was broken.

We knocked on the door, and it gave way, swinging open crookedly on

one hinge.

“Hello,” I said, sticking my head in. The door slipped off the hinge,

falling to the floor.

“What you doing?” said Katie. “The house is busted up enough as is.”

“It wasn’t me. The hinge was–”

She smiled.

“Do you think you’re funny? It’s too early to . . .”

A scruffy bald man in a wife-beater came trudging up from the street,

using a shotgun as a cane. He tossed an empty bottle into the front yard

and rubbed his beer belly.

“What the hell you doing on my porch?” he slurred in a gravelly voice,

barging past us. He muttered something under his breath and waddled

groggily into the house, apparently too drunk to notice the missing door.

“Mr. Kelvin, we need to talk to you about your son, Abe,” I heard

myself say.

A bottle shattered inside.

“Do we go in?” I turned to Katie.

She was already stepping inside.

“Hey, who’s there?” slurred Mr. Kelvin. “Is that you, Diamond?”

Katie quickly took cover behind the living room wall. I was right

241

behind her.

“Mr. Kelvin!” I shouted. “We just want to ask you a couple of

questions.”

We could hear grumbling somewhere down the hall.

“Okay, we’re coming in!” I informed him, following Katie as she

slithered along the wall. “Just a few questions! That’s all! Don’t shoot!”

I moved in front of Katie and peeked into the room; the man was

sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his shotgun.

“Mr. Kelvin, just a couple of quick questions,” I repeated carefully.

“What?” barked Mr. Kelvin.

Katie quickly popped into the room.

“Is it Halloween already?” he muttered, squinting at her witch gown.

“Yes,” I said. “Could we ask you about your son?”

“What?”

“Uhmm . . .” that was when I noticed a blood stain on his pant leg.

“Okay, we’re going to be leaving now,” I said quietly. “Thanks for

your help, Mr. Kelvin.”

He raised the gun, pointing it at us. “Ask your questions!” he barked.

“I want to hear what you’re trying to get at.”

“Uhmm . . .”

“I said ask your freaking questions–” He froze. A tall red creature

ducked his head under the doorway.

Mr. Kelvin fired.

BANG!

BANG!

The bullets stopped in midair, reversed their trajectories and turned

back on Mr. Kelvin. The ozmapel snatched the man by the throat and

pulled him up into the air with one hand as one of the bullets whistled by,

just nipping the man’s ear.

“Don’t kill me!” bellowed the father in terror.

“Daddy, I don’t like you very much,” bawled the halloween back, his

voice a spooky mix of a monster’s and a child’s.

“Abe, it’s okay,” I called out.

Abe turned to me, still holding his father up in the air with one hand, as

if holding a turkey by its neck.

“Abe, you can take him to the police.”

“H-h-he . . .” exhaled Abe loudly, struggling to cope with his emotions.

“I know what he did,” I said, “but you can’t kill him in return.”

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“I can scare him.”

“You’re not going to kill him?”

“No.”

“Is your mom here?”

“She’s at work.”

“Where does she work? We’ll go get her–”

“She works on Yale and Cranberry, at eleven. She gets home at three –

someone’s coming.”

The bullets fell to the floor, and Abe released his father just as Cheng

psyclined into the room, followed by five minical werewolves, who

zapped Abe with surges of light. The kid dowsed the light before it could

even touch his red hair. The one stream of light that got through was

absorbed and neutralized, trickling from his eyes like orange tears.

“You’re here to take me?” Abe asked Katie and me, and then turned

back to the werewolves, all of whom had been disarmed and pinned to

the wall. “Leave me alone.”

“We will leave, Abe,” said Cheng calmly in the back. “We will wait

outside.”

With a swift wave of his hands, Cheng freed the werewolves and

psyclined them out.

“I hate grownups,” he said.

“Everyone does,” said Katie.

“What am I?” he whimpered. “I don’t like it.”

Katie didn’t look like she was going to answer so I did. “Abe, your

father killed you.”

Abe looked down at his trembling father and shoved him under the bed

with his hairy foot.

“We were sent to track you down,” I said. “We didn’t have a choice.

But it’s going to be okay. . . . How old are you?”

“Eight,” wept Abe softly. He wiped his large nose.

“Abe,” I explained, “you turned into a creature that lives one day a

year, on Halloween.”

Abe plopped down like a kid settling in for a bedtime story. His father

whimpered and mumbled while Abe magically warped the bed into a

dome and pressed the sides to the floor, trapping the man inside.

He mopped his face with his giant paw and looked over his long red

hairs. He started to cry again.

“Abe, the strongest creature is a menala,” stated Katie.

243

That wasn’t really true.

“His name is Dorian Kel. Kel can be short for Kelvin.”

“Yeah, he is the strongest of all time,” I added, figuring out what she

was doing.

Abe dropped his paw into his lap and stared at Katie.

“You’re like his brother,” she said. “See, you got his last name.” He

nodded. “That’s kind of what you are.”

“I was wondering, Kel,” I said, “if I can have your autograph . . . you

know, since you are related to him.”

“I can tell you’re lying,” he said quietly.

“Yes . . . I am. Know what? I think you could take down Dorian with

no hands and . . . with no eyes.”

He spent a second peering into my eyes and then said, “What’s an oz-

ma-pel?”

“You’ll love this,” I said. “You are a very powerful creature, an ancient

blood that became extinct ages ago. You are the first ozmapel to enter

since then.”

His black eyes brightened.

“That’s all I know.”

“Are you a monster?” he asked me.

This caught me off-guard.

“He’s a warlock,” said Katie simply. “I’m a witch.”

He didn’t search her eyes. “Can you fly?” said Abe.

“No. I’d need a broom.”

“Ooh yeeah.”

“I bet there’s a broom somewhere in this house.”

“No, we don’t have a broom.”

“Oh.”

There was a long silence.

“I like you, Katie Pundeff and Jesse Jayden – someone’s coming–”

Cheng psyclined behind him and slammed him against the ground.

“It’s okay!” shouted Katie. “It’s not going to hurt!”

Cheng uttered something in Japanese into the corner of the room, and

Abe was magically removed from the room by an invisible force.

“You did a great job, Katie and Jesse,” said Cheng, closing his eyes.

“Jake will keep him safe . . .”

I opened my eyes. We were in a large cage. Cheng stood on the other

244

side.

“What are you doing?” I screamed in fury. “You promised to set us

free!”

“Did I?”

“Yes!”

“You will be given more duties tomorrow.”

“But I’m competing in the Jack O’ Games. It’s a signed contract that

states I must compete.”

Cheng hurried back to the bars. “You signed Hess’s contract?” He said

in bewilderment.

“Yes! I don’t know what they would do if I failed to show up–”

“The games’ officials will kill you for breaking the contract,” he

replied. “Why would you sign? In the finals, the rules do not apply. Jake

can kill you.”

“Well, you have to let me out then . . . right?”

“I’ll first find out if you’re telling the truth. Jake has the power to

revoke the contract – but I think he would rather enjoy going against

you.”

Cheng psyclined, and, as he did, something pushed my eyes shut.

“Chosen Jesse, I’ve brought you to Ray,” I heard Goss Aforb’s voice.

“Please, do not get into any more trouble.”

Katie and I were standing alone on Ray’s porch. Duma, the welgo,

came out and licked my face. Duma followed us into the living room. Oz

was crying on the sofa, a familiar sight.

“Oz, I’m okay,” I said. She jumped out of the seat and rushed over to

hug me, and I could tell she had feared that she would never see me

again.

“You escaped,” she murmured euphorically. “I told that rotten

halloween you would never stop running.”

“They did catch us. But someone got us out.”

“Who?” said Jacoby, coming from behind me.

“His name is Goss Aforb. He looked like a sea halloween. I think he

saved us last year.”

“What about him looked like a sea halloween?”

“He has glassy skin, webbed-feet . . . uhmm . . .”

“Katie, did you see him?”

245

“Yeah,” she said. Everyone looked startled by her brisk response. “He

had a long beak and long ears.”

Ray came out of the kitchen. “Katie, I just made some stuffed pep-o’-

lantern,” he informed. “I say, it’s still warm.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Jesse?”

“Sure.” I followed Katie into the kitchen. A green bell pepper stuffed

with ground beef sat on the table. It was carved like a jack-o’-lantern.

Carrots were cut in tiny triangles and added in for the eyes and the nose.

Ray handed us some forks, and we dug in.

“Jesse, while you and Katie eat,” Jacoby said, “tell me more about this

halloween who saved your lives.”

Everyone crowded into the kitchen, aside from Duma the cat, who

curled back to sleep, unconcerned.

I forked the last of the bell pepper into my mouth, relishing it, before I

answered. “That’s all we know about him.”

“Jacoby,” Hess reminded, “Jesse needs to arrive at the festival in two

hours. If I am to prepare him at all, we need to go now.”

“I’ll let you take him in a few minutes.” Jacoby turned back to me.

“Did the halloween have skin like a dolphin?”

“Yes.”

“Katie?”

She nodded while she chewed.

“An ubolo?” Franky raised his brow at Jacoby. “Jesse, was he short –

five feet?”

“Yes,” I said, gulping a glass of Acid Milk. “He’s the one who

psyclined us out of the Haunt House.”

“But the Haunt House is impenetrable,” Hess told Jacoby. “There can’t

be an ubolo.”

“An ozmapel did enter today,” said Jacoby.

“But not an ubolo.”

“I know. If what Jesse says is true–”

“Of course it’s true!” I snapped. “Why would I lie?”

“Did he give you any clues to why he was protecting you two?” he

asked.

“No. He did call me Chosen Jesse right after he dropped us off. That’s

it.”

“Soundrec, did you see Katie and Jesse come in?” said Jacoby.

246

“No . . .” said Soundrec slowly, trying to remember. “When did they

get in?”

“When you were out patrolling Saint Paval’s hill.”

“But I was here. Shreek was flying over the hill, but I was here the

entire time. Yet, I didn’t see a psyclin.”

“Then,” Jacoby said, “somehow an ubolo is unaccounted for.”

“And that’s the reason why the death count is more than the

population,” said Shreek. “There could be more.”

“Jacoby, I must take Jesse,” cut in Hess anxiously. “There is so much I

need to teach him–”

“Alright, Hess,” said Jacoby. “Soundrec, I want the Night Watchers

who haven’t joined the SGC to go along with Hess and Jesse. Shreek,

you can stay here with us until the festival. Hess, I need you to meet us at

the festival at – what was the time you said?”

“We will meet there in . . .” he looked at Jacoby’s watch, “one hour

and forty minutes.”

“Alright, go get Jesse trained. Focus on Jical’s magic. He seems to be

having a difficult time with it. Where will you be training him?”

“Greenland.” said Hess.

“The safest place. Good.”

“I’m going with them,” said Katie.

“Katie, you’re staying here.”

She snatched my hand.

“Katie, I can’t have you go with them,” argued Jacoby. “Hess.”

Hess took my hand, and, as soon as the others pried Katie away, I was

psyclined to a little settlement lying just beyond iced-covered docks. The

brisk frosty air smelled of salmon, and the cold spray from the water was

gently specking my face.

247

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Hess took me down a short snow hedge that surrounded stone pillars

and a mile-long plane of ice.

“We will go to the middle,” said Hess, stomping his big feet across,

balancing with his wings. “So, why did you sign, Jesse?”

“I thought maybe if no one was going to sign . . .” I started slowly,

debating whether I should tell him about my idiotic plan, “and I waited

until the end and then signed it. I wanted to change what’s going to

happen.”

“Jesse, how many O’ Games have you been to?”

“Two,” I said proudly.

“That is it? Did you know that the first time I saw you, when I came

for Kala, I thought you were a human?”

“Really?” I said dumbly. “Many people – I mean halloweens, think

that, too. That’s because I hide my magic like Jacoby and Dorian. I don’t

like using magic.”

“You will have to today, or you will wind up dead. The finals of the O’

Games are second only to Jical warfare in fatality.”

“Isn’t Jical’s the kind of magic your kind don’t possess?”

“Yes, but Jical is a duel using only Jical’s magic. The duels end in

death. There is only one survivor. Let me give you a historical fact: You

and Jake are to be the first two warlocks to compete in the final match of

the O’ Games.”

He stopped at a snow-covered pillar.

“This is where a ghoul Jicaled a pel kelical on Halloween Day 2254.”

We both read the faded inscription on the stone.

HD 2254

The pel kelical Yi Lang was killed by the hana ghoul Rwander Sawh a day after Lang won

the Jack O’ Games’ Crown from him in an Australian record time. Lang was found crushed

underneath this rock.

248

The Haunt House’s claim that Lang had bribed the Games’ officials with a rare European

crow roost and an Egyptian bat in order to secure his victory was never confirmed. However,

Sawh presented evidence of having beaten Lang in a private Jical.

“A pel kelical cannot defeat a ghoul.”

- This was Sawh’s announcement to the Haunt House on the day of his Jack O’ Games

defeat.

“Do you think Lang cheated?” I asked, starting to sweat, finally

beginning to see what I had gotten myself into.

“Sawh’s statement is very convincing. Yes. But do not be frightened,

Jesse. I will teach you some legitimate tricks and tactics – do you know

what Lin is doing here?”

“What?” I said, just then noticing Lin making his way over the ice.

“He is going to cause trouble,” griped Hess. “If he was not a great

psyclin chaser, we could psyclin to a different ground.”

“Lin, what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I wanted to come – so I came,” he scoffed.

“Lin, what are you now, an angry halloween?”

Lin stepped back and jammed his fist into my ribcage.

“Lin, stop,” said Hess, pushing Lin aside right as he was rearing for

another punch.

“Sorry, Jesse,” said Lin lamely. “I just hate your face.”

“Why?” I said in dismay. “You don’t have to punch me.”

Hess yanked Lin up in the air by his feet before his fist could reach me.

“Let me down!”

Hess tossed Lin aside.

“Ignore him,” said Hess firmly. “The training needs to begin. You will

be competing against Jake, a very powerful quelix warlock. I felt

spectacalons crawling up my spine when I watched him play as effortless

as a tortic. You have two choices: you can play or just let him win.” He

noticed someone up in the overcast sky. “Here comes Peter.”

Peter coasted across the sky like a hang glider, circling once before

landing.

“Hey, Jesse,” Peter greeted me, making a picture-perfect landing.

“Hey,” I said.

“Jesse, you will be the halloween player,” explained Hess. “Peter will

be Jack. I want you to get him to the far side of the plane.”

“Uhmm . . . what if I can’t,” I stuttered, sizing up Peter’s slender but

249

strong physique; he was a foot shorter than Hess, but probably more

agile. “Can we start with the tricks?”

“I actually do not think it will be good to dwell on them too long. The

competitors in the finals are too strong and experienced – Jake is too

smart and powerful – to be defeated by trickery. From what I have seen,

if Jake is the player of Jack, there might be a slight chance he will give

you the first summon. We will start on that assumption. But, I have seen

two finals, and they were extremely violent, both ending like a Jical.

Now, if Jake is the halloween player, it will be a full-on duel, and you

will either fight or resign to being beat. Either way, let’s hope he throws

you in the hole and not the wall.”

“So, what do I do?” I didn’t know what to say. Why did I sign the

paper?

“Jesse, relax,” said Peter. “Are you a good psyclin chaser?”

“I do not think he can psyclin,” said Hess.

“Jesse, can you counter a twenty percent Binlisac?”

I shook my head, feeling cornered, forced to exposing myself as a dope

that I was, having no magic at all.

“How many kinds of Jical’s magic can you summon? Can’t be less

than fifty.”

I faltered before I nodded.

“Less?”

I nodded.

“Less than twenty?”

I wasn’t going to continue this. “I don’t know how to.”

“How to what?” said Peter, confused.

“Jesse,” Hess looked at me squarely, “you have never performed

Jical’s magic?”

I shook my head.

“What kind of magic can you perform?”

“I paralyzed a dog once,” I said.

“That’s Jical’s magic,” pointed out Peter. “That’s a rivolion. Kind of a

weak spell, unless you have complete control.”

“I don’t know how to do it though,” I confessed. “I have never been

able to summon magic when I wanted to.”

“Hess, doesn’t he have to sign in soon?”

“Yes,” replied Hess. “Going in early might be good. You will have

more photo opportunities. What do you think, Jesse?”

250

What did I think? I wanted to make a run for it.

“Jesse, what do you think?” repeated Hess.

“Uhmm . . . I don’t know. How do you use magic?”

Hess spat out a ball of fire in front of him and cupped it into his claws.

Lin came over and peered wide-eyed into the blaze as if it was something

amazing.

“It is natural,” explained Hess. “I just try things. If I want that stone to

break–” A pillar shattered at the far end of the field. “–then it happens. If

it does not, then I find out that I cannot break stone. Sometimes strong

magic takes practice, as with psyclining, for instance. It is difficult magic

to master.”

There was a silence as we watched a leaf sail between us. Their eyes

shifted back and forth between me and the leaf.

I smiled and stretched my arms out to the leaf, trying to direct it. I was

making it move!

“Jesse, it is the breeze,” informed Hess. “We cannot help you if you do

not use magic.”

“What’s your Rank?” said Peter. “You got your S-MPR today.”

“What was yours?” I asked.

“Five.”

“They ranked you at 5.55?” said Hess, startled. “You sure? That is high

for an undeveloped melkian.”

“They tested me twice. They couldn’t believe it themselves.”

“I thought you would be a four at the most.”

Peter looked down, put down by his idol.

“I should have considered you as a prospect. Jesse, what did you get?”

“I don’t remember,” I lied.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” said Lin, stepping between us. “One time I

tested a one and then two days later Jacoby told me melflins have a

tendency to change, and I got a four.”

“No, you didn’t,” argued Peter.

“I did, too! Ask Jacoby. I can Jical a sealon and a blackian vampire.”

“Hess, is that possible for a melflin? They’re some of the weakest

halloweens.”

Lin pouted.

“Jacoby may be right about melflins having varying S-MPR’s,” said

Hess. “But let’s focus on Jesse. You may be having the spiders. They can

really disrupt your ability to conjure.”

251

“But they don’t block simple magic,” remarked Peter.

“Well, whatever the reason, Jesse has no magic. And now it’s time to

take him to the festival. I will explain to Shreek what our plan is. I have

to make one visit before the festival.”

“Me, too,” said Lin. “Two visits now.”

“You can go on your own.”

“I don’t want to go without protection,” whined Lin. “I’m expected to

die soon!”

“We all are.”

“Jacoby instructed you to watch over me. He said it clearly.”

Hess unfolded his wings and bounded into the dark clouds where seven

Night Watchers were soaring. Peter stayed with Lin and me, telling us

how he was going to apply for the Night Watcher position tomorrow. He

hadn’t heard of the grim prophecy, and I wasn’t about to ruin his day.

“I have to stop at my mom’s house,” continued Lin right after Hess

landed. “She’s working in the bee fields.”

“This early?” said Hess grouchily. “No. We cannot risk being late to

the festival.”

“I want to see the bees, I want to see the bees . . .”

“Hess, why don’t we make the stop?” I suggested. “I don’t want to

arrive that early.”

“Jesse, you will miss pictures,” said Hess. “Well, okay. Our first stop

will be the American Festival.”

“Hess, you’re the nicest halloween ever, in millions and millions–” Lin

stopped talking to psyclin chase us to a dark street just outside the

festival grounds in Los Angeles, “and millions of days,” he finished.

Hess waited for the Night Watchers to appear in the night sky, still

gliding over our heads.

“I will be back,” said Hess, taking off into the sky with Peter.

The Night Watchers all stayed above us. Lin took me to his shop.

Pumpkins were piled high on the doorstep. An old sign above the door

read, Dress To Scare. Below it was a new sign:

HD 2447 - Roar for Hess

“Sorry, Jesse,” said Lin. “Let me change that for you–” Lin laughed. “I

made a joke. Get it?”

252

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“Don’t worry, I don’t get it either.”

Then what was he laughing at?

“Jesse, what do you want me to put instead?”

Words chiseled themselves onto the board.

HD 2447 - SCREAM FOR JESSMAN

I shook my head. “No, I don’t like that one.”

“Okay . . .”

HD 2447 - brittle your mouths, here comes jesse the biffle

“That sounds alright,” I said. “What does ‘brittle your mouth’ mean

exactly? I always wondered about that.”

“Are you candy high? You never had peanut brittle before?”

I shook my head.

“Peanut brittle is hard and sharp. You can cut yourself if you speak

with a mouthful of it. Jacoby says it’s best not to talk when you’re eating

it. You want to come in? I have to fill up on some CC’s.”

“Sure,” I said.

Lin placed his hand on the chipped door, and a screechy alarm blared

from the mouth of the stone goblin above the door.

Die . . . Die . . . die thieving spectacalons . . . Die.

“Lin, I think you might want to change that to something less

offensive,” I remarked.

“Yeah, it’s pretty outdated, and I’m sick of it myself. I made it when

spectacalons raided my store and took everything in it. They didn’t leave

one candy corn.”

We walked to the back, where he stuffed his overalls with handfuls of

packaged candy.

Hess called for us, and we hurried back outside.

“Hess, I just remembered something,” I said. “I want to stop by Hale’s

store.”

“What is that?” asked Hess.

“A can shop. It sells candy beans and other things.”

“Will this be quick?”

253

“Yeah. It’s just a few blocks that way.”

“Okay. We have to hurry.”

After a short walk through the ruins of the bellnicsi, we came to a tidy

little street and crossed over towards a building with a small glass

window, stacked with cans from top to bottom.

“Come on!” I shouted, running to the shop and knocking on the door.

“Hal?” I called, trying to see inside. “It’s me, Jesse!”

“I don’t think he’s home,” said Lin as his black skin oozed down his

arms.

“Hale, are you there?”

“Who’s Hale?”

“The owner.”

“That’s not what the door says,” noted Lin.

“What do you mean?”

A new piece of plywood was nailed onto the door.

THE SHOP OF

HALLEN’S TCL CANS

Do I have a purpose?

“I don’t get this,” I complained. “Hallen couldn’t be the new owner.”

“No one’s home,” said Lin, pressing his wet nose against the glass. “I

would sneak in, but I don’t have magic anymore.”

“Maybe they split up. Hal said one odd thing to me last time I was

here, ‘don’t come back’. Why would he have said that? Was it because

they weren’t going to be here anymore? No, that’s–” I stopped, realizing

I was thinking out loud. “Crapper!”

“It is time to go,” said Hess, only glancing at the place. “Hallen is not

home.”

“No. I have to know what’s going on here. I’m going to break in.”

“The shop is charmed.”

“But I have to know!”

“Why?”

“I just do.”

“Can this wait until tomorrow?”

“No, this can’t wait a year!”

“A day,” corrected Lin, puzzled.

254

“No! A year! And I’m tired of waiting!”

“In that case, I will break in for you after your match,” concluded

Hess.

“Fine,” I said moodily, pulling out my Question Journal from the inner

pocket of my robe.

“Wait! I have magic!” yipped Lin out of the blue. “I can psyclin to my

mom!”

And he was gone. Everyone psyclin chased him, dragging me along,

leaving me no time to write in my journal. Seconds later, we arrived at

the entrance to a brown barn. Wet farmland spread for acres and acres all

around us, bounding with burly livestock, healthy crop fields, and lush

orchards.

“Jesse, come meet my mom,” exclaimed Lin happily. “She’s great!”

While everyone stayed behind, Lin and I ran down the hall and into a

cold cellar. On the walls were pots, pans, hatchets, butcher knives,

shovels, rakes, every farm tool you could think of.

“Lin-Lin!” cried out a tiny pudgy black woman in large overalls. She

was quite old, fit to be his grandma. She wore huge muddy boots and

long brown socks, folded back down over the boots.

“Mom, I brought my friends,” said Lin, trying to wriggle out of his

mom’s mighty hug.

“Lin-Lin, are you making stuff up again?”

“No, I’ve got many friends! Here is one.”

“Oh . . . hey there! I’m Lin’s mother, Bringa Gibbly.” She put out her

hand cheerfully.

“Jesse Jayden,” I said, taking her rough hand.

“What are you supposed to be, a bad hair day?”

I smiled with her.

“Mom, don’t make fun of my friend,” whined Lin. “He’s a warlock.”

“You know that every time you bring someone in, I have to tease them.

It’s a ritual.”

“It’s not. He’s the first one. I have a friend named Katie. She’s

beautiful. Her skin is the color of our barn. Jesse has kissed her.”

“That is brave of you, Jesse. You didn’t get caught, did you?”

I shook my head, blushing deeply.

“Lin-Lin, you haven’t grown an inch.”

“Mom, you know I don’t grow.”

“I know, sweety bee. One more hug!”

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When Lin and Bringa finally pulled apart, she turned to me. “Jesse,

would you like to take a walk through the bee fields?”

Lin psyclined.

“Now you have to,” Bringa chuckled. “Lin loves bees, you know. Did

he tell you he was allergic to them?”

“No.”

“That’s how he died.”

“Really?”

“Someone who is allergic to bees but loves them this much is a rare

thing.”

“Befriend your enemy,” I said.

“Except for tortics.”

Both of us smiled as we walked outside and crossed a soggy field. We

passed by a few cows, which mooed and jingled their bell collars, until

we came upon a grove with long rows of honeycomb boxes, each

swarming with thousands of bees. A huge colony like this would kill us

instantly if provoked. Yet, they were buzzing around happily,

undisturbed, leaving us be. I chuckled to myself: leaving us be.

“You don’t wear protective nets?” I asked over the loud buzzing.

“The worker bees won’t attack,” replied Lin’s mother. “They respect

and protect Lin . . . like he’s their queen. If my Lin is threatened, they

will come zipping to his rescue like a desert storm.”

“I’ve never seen so many bees.”

“They don’t scatter much. . . .”

Hess and Peter were moving across the fields towards us, crunching

their way through twigs and dry grass.

“Lin looks happy,” I told Bringa, watching Lin squat by a rusty tractor

making friends with bees crawling up his finger. His skin had stopped

oozing, and his ears cheerfully fanned the air.

Bringa smiled. “That’s where I found his body. . . . Where’s Jacoby?”

She glanced at Hess and Peter, then back at Lin, who was now

pretending he was a bee.

“He’s at a friend’s house. Why?”

She didn’t take her eyes off of Lin. “He looks after my son.”

“We’ll be getting back to him soon.”

“I’m going to miss my boy. No one’s quite like him.”

Hess stepped up to us. “We need to get going.”

Bringa walked up to Lin and rested her hand on his head, causing him

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to change character.

“Lin, one more hug for the road,” she said.

“Not in front of my friends.”

“You hugged me in front of Jesse.”

“That’s different. Jesse likes hugs, like candy.”

“Then, come get some candy.”

Lin gave her a quick hug and pulled away.

“Bringa?” I started unsurely, about to pull out my Question Journal,

but thinking better of it. “I was wondering . . .”

She looked back at me surrounded by a friendly cloud of bees. “How

can I change him?” she guessed my thoughts.

“Yeah. How did you? Are you a halloween?”

“No. It must be a mother’s gift.”

Hess and Peter bowed to her, and Lin pushed us to the end of the

orchid.

“Leonard! Tell Jacoby and Dorian that I appreciate everything they’ve

done for–”

Lin psyclined me before she could finish.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

We were in a huge stone trench that was packed with halloweens who

roared, screamed, and yelled in excitement. This was the line to the

Africa Festival, but we weren’t in it, instead waiting off to the side.

Lin held my hand up like a referee announcing a winner after a

wrestling match.

“Hello, everyone!” he shouted. “We are here! Brittle your mouths, here

comes Jesse the biffle!”

No one heard him, except a pair of giggling witches who turned their

attention to the front of the line. Moments later, the distant crowd roared

and screamed. Streams of light shot into the dark, and a red-boned

skeletis rose out of the trench and jetted into the sky, drifting smoke out

of his fingers. The skeletis roared as bright firecrackers scrawled the

clouds with letters, crackling and popping, lighting up the clouds.

T H E A F R I C A F E S T I V A L I S N O W O P E N

A child’s depiction of a white ghost flew through the sparkling words

and bellowed an earth-shattering “BOO!!”

Halloweens erupted with cheers and growls.

“Come on, Jesse, get in line!” shouted Lin excitedly.

“We must wait for Jacoby,” pointed out Hess. “Lin, you do not need to

wait in line. Jesse is entitled to bring in a group of fifteen.”

We were soon joined by Oz and Jacoby. Duma was at Jacoby’s side.

Ray, Nail, and Nick were behind them.

“Where’s Katie?” I asked Oz.

Katie was right next to me. “Hey,” she greeted.

“Hey,” I said back, instantly feeling better.

“Where’s Dorian?”

“At Ray’s,” she said, watching a gremlin nervously talking to Jacoby.

“Go ahead,” said Jacoby.

He bowed his head shyly as he shuffled past my friends, stealing

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another look at Jacoby. He stopped in front of Katie, and just stared

wide-eyed at her.

“Hi,” said Katie.

“They’re right,” he murmured to himself.

“Right about what?”

“You have to be a wilarchike witch. You’re really pretty.”

Katie smirked and blushed.

“I was there when you won yesterday,” said the gremlin. “I Know

More Halloween History Than You is my favorite thing ever. I haven’t

missed a single one. I was growling for you all the way. Well, I just

wanted to see you up close. Okay, I have to go now–”

The gremlin psyclined back to his friends, and we started up again,

making our way to a snowy underground tunnel. A sign above it said:

-WELCOME TO THE AFRICA FESTIVAL’S 149TH CELEBRATION-

MOUNT KILIMANJARO, TANZANIA

HD 2447 Pacific PM 1:19:01

Weather Report...............................

Plenty of ominous clouds

Swirling winds up to 1000 mph

Current Festival Ground Temp: 81 F

Current Outside Temp: 59 F

By The Numbers...............................

Festival Count: 3,738

Line Count: 130,322

Expected: 243,943

Samhain Population: 281,243

Electronic Amanda, the festival reporter, thundered through the domed

tunnel.

“Welcome, scary dwellers. You have survived another Halloween Day.

For those 37,300 skipping the festival, I wish you a safe fright. But for

all of you brave souls in attendance, we have a special – ancient – treat.

But you will have to wait. Here at Mount Kilimanjaro – a mountain once

as white as the hairs on Himalaya’s back – you will experience the

pinnacle of beauty and wisdom. For more treats and scares for you; we

have Boral’s semifinals and Wandering Lost prelims, featuring the

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victorious Wikitch Welks’ Return. Yesterday, the Samhain Government

Control was officially clawed in the Dark Hours. Tokuma Jake Kimura

was appointed the head of SGC. This is Electronic Amanda Melons, as

always bringing you the scoop of every dreadful minute. Here is your

growl–”

Her growl was cut off by booing. By then, we had made it out of the

tunnel, onto a steep road winding up a treacherous cliff. Somehow we

had been lifted halfway up the mountain, thousands of feet above the

tunnel. The road was split in two, one path continuing up the mountain,

the other leading down to a round plateau, stacked with locked coffins.

The next sign was covered in ice and snowflakes, and read:

AFRICA FESTIVAL

STORAGE: POTIONS, BROOMS & CARRYING ITEMS

Half of the line hurried down the path to buy a coffin.

“Is anyone carrying anything other than candy?” called out Jacoby,

stopping at the sign.

Everyone shook their head, except Lin, who nervously looked into his

pouch.

“Lin, your knife is fine.”

And we started up again, with the summit already visible on our left.

After a few minutes of treading up the meandering road cluttered with

banners, signs, flags and all kind of festival memorabilia, we emerged at

the top of Kilimanjaro. From here, a bumpy passage took us inward,

spiraling down a deep gorge into the heart of the mountain. Below lay an

amusement park valley, obscured by heavy dark clouds. Sticking out of

the clouds was a massive stadium. I couldn’t look long because my

group was entering a pitch black tunnel. Katie and I went in after Franky

and Hess, taking each blind step with caution.

“Hello, hello!” welcomed a haunting voice in the darkness. “Please

watch your step. Hahahaha!”

The voice faded as glowing creatures hovered around us, fluttering

their frail butterfly wings and plunging into into the darkness beneath our

feet, revealing that there was no floor. It was as if we were walking on

air. I hadn’t noticed till then, but I was squeezing Katie’s hand.

At last the spooky darkness lifted as glowing jack-o’-lanterns lined a

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narrow path glowing with tiny text.

Secure any loose items: beverages, candy, mini-cauldrons, brooms, etc...

Do not tamper with the cart in any way.

Do not psyclin or perform magic while inside.

Do not leap out or push a fellow passenger.

Keep your claws, hands, legs, and wings inside the cart at all times.

Please remain seated until you are instructed to dismount.

Please immediately report any violations of the above to the management.

“A five thousand foot drop! Scary!” said the scary voice. “You can tell

me how it feels! Welcome to the Africa Festival! Hahahaha . . .”

The invisible surface gave way, and we fell through, dropping

perilously through prickly cold air. There was no end to our fall. We kept

on dropping . . .

“This iiiis fuuunnnn, nooooo?!” rang Katie’s voice.

“I - don’t - like - thiiisss!” I stammered back.

I screamed again.

“Stop screaming!”

I felt a tug in the pit of my stomach as we were flung forward, forty or

fifty miles per hour. But then we slowed, finding ourselves strapped

inside an oval coaster cart, clanging along an invisible track. There were

carts in front of us and behind us, coming out of the darkness.

“I forgot to mention,” echoed the voice.

“What?” said Katie perkily.

I was much too shaken to participate in any chit-chat, hastily fastening

my arms to the lap bar. This was going to be scary. I could tell.

“Your seatbelts . . . where have they gone?”

I looked down in terror to see that the safety belts were gone

altogether.

“But do not worry, you halloweens! You have been scared from the

day you entered! At least you have the safety bar! Think of what would

happen if that was gone!”

The next thing I knew, I was gripping air. The bar had vanished, along

with the cart. We were jolted and propelled downward, turning, twisting,

rolling, flipping and twirling. Not once did the cart slow down. What was

worse, the total darkness concealed the tracks, so there was no telling

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which way we would be hurtled next.

“Ahhhhh!” we screamed together, as the cart jerked up into a backward

loop. “Ahhhhh!”

Our cart sharply tilted forward and rocketed straight toward a light, a

hundred feet below us, jamming me into my seat. Thankfully, it pulled

up, but did so at the last moment possible, and grazed the ground.

“Thank you for letting me scare you! Have fun and don’t forget: a

smile is grander than a frown! You can call me the Bone Shiver! And

now back to Electronic Amanda Melons! Hahahahaha!”

The cart clanked into a foggy cave that emulated an Irish landscape,

where rolling hills were dotted with small huts.

“Hello, tense-faces,” crackled Amanda Melon’s voice from inside our

cart. “I hope you enjoyed your transit down to the festival level. Bone

Shiver is always a great start. Before I leave you, I would like to give

you a quick tour of the ancient times – the times when wikitch welks and

torticalist roamed the land. It is believed that the Veil of Time was so

scary that it would even scare a tortic. To your left, you can see the

remains of a beltane goblin who died of starvation.”

I saw a few dead sheep next to a giant corpse with exceptionally long

phalanges curled up on a rock bank. The skull was short and wide with

massive flat teeth.

“Unlike today’s goblins, this beltane goblin-domgium preyed on flocks

of sheep and occasionally children, who would wander curiously into

their two-feet-long claws,” she continued as lightning struck and thunder

rolled. “To your right, you will see another ancient halloween known as

the torticalist.”

Gasps of excitement came from the carts behind us.

The creature was slumped low in the mud, underneath an umbrella

rock, keeping out of the rain. Its black arms were wet and shriveled, its

broad torso was hunched, and its wet triangular ears stuck to its

shoulders.

“A torticalist is presumed to have been one of the deadliest halloweens

in the Veil of Time. It wasn’t sheep or humans they preyed on, but other

halloweens. They were reclusive, and came out only to hunt or defend

their land. As you can see this torticalist finally met its match.”

The tour continued for a little while longer, dispensing more myths

about the Veil of Time. I zoned out through parts of the tour, too

entranced by the sight of Katie’s keen face. She seemed completely back

262

to normal; her long black hair was perfectly straight, and her brown skin

was flawless. She was a Mexican Goddess to me – a Bolivian Goddess, I

corrected myself, wondering if she had some Mexican in her.

Katie bumped my shoulder with hers. “What you thinking?” she said.

“Uhmm . . . what’s the difference between Mexicans and Bolivians?”

“Mexicans are from Mexico, and Bolivians are from Bolivia.”

“No. I mean their physical features, like their skin or hair.”

Katie gave me a long puzzled look.

Amanda Melon came back on while our cart drifted down a muddy

river.

“. . . Pantanal, Brazil – the home of the woman from Brazil. I want to

clarify the common question of whether or not she is human. The word

‘woman’ generally refers to an adult human female, but the ‘woman

from Brazil’ is in fact a halloween. So why not the ‘halloween from

Brazil’, you might ask. The first mention of the ‘woman from Brazil’

was in reference to a native woman in Pantanal – not the halloween we

know now as the ‘woman from Brazil’. This native woman told stories of

her sightings of the halloween. The name ‘woman from Brazil’ came

from halloweens in 458 and originally referred to this human lady. But

when she disappeared, the name was somehow passed on to the

halloween. Thank you for listening. Please keep in mind a new law just

clawed by the SGC: anyone that litters candy is subject to a 100 CC fine.

Watch your step when leaving the cart. The cart will disappear in . . .”

We were pushed up to our feet.

“. . . three, two, one.”

The cart was gone, and my feet landed on a cushy carpeted surface. We

were inside a long corridor.

Amanda Melon’s voice continued from large column speakers that

lined both walls. “Your exit is in front of you. Don’t forget to check all

time listings. The Jack O’ Games final match is scheduled to start in two

hours. Please arrive early to avoid the traffic. The Jack O’ Dome seats

two hundred thousand. If you arrive too late, you may miss out on a

scare. This is Electronic Amanda Melons, bringing you the scoop of

every dreadful minute. Here is your growl–”

Her growl was loud and shrill.

“That was really fun!” said Lin giddily, jumping up and down, as Katie

and I eyed the walls in between the speakers. They were decorated in

animated wallpaper. Witches soared in and out of the orange-and-black

263

wallpaper, flying atop of their brooms or psyclining to the opposite wall,

cackling and chortling. A phantom orchestra accompanied a vampire

choir inside the wallpaper. It was amazing.

“Yeah,” Katie and I said together.

“Hey, move it!” I heard Lin shouting orders. “Mons mummy, move it!

Move it, murf goblin! Make way for Katie and Jesse!”

264

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Heads turned eagerly as we made our entrance into the corridor, some

sending over to us a second head that they conjured to take a closer look

at us. Heads of werewolves, vampires and gargoyles sailed up to our

faces and orbited around us, which was a bit spooky.

“Get out of here, head!” scowled Katie.

“I know Jake’s strategies,” the floating head said to me. “It’s a simple

playful torture with your bones.”

A ten-foot-tall mummy lumbered leisurely over to us, instead of

psyclining his head. First, he inspected Katie, then Lin, who was busy

peeling dried skin off his elbow.

“Make sure not to die,” the mummy told me, then turned around and

ambled away.

“A biffle you are?” chimed a cloudy witch head. Her true self was far

away, peering at us. She had purple skin. Her face was smooth and

without imperfections, and her black hair floated as if on the surface of a

pool. Her lovely face drifted closer. “Two warlocks in the finals. Only

one wins.”

“Wow!” An energetic young voice yipped, causing the witch’s face to

dissipate. The gremlin psyclined up to his own projected head and, after

re-absorbing it, spoke again. “Jesse, I have been a huge, huge, huuuuge

fan since two hours ago. Although I still think you will lose, I’m rooting

for you, and hope that you don’t die.” The short gremlin tilted his baby-

face, listening for something. “Did you hear that? Someone is going to

claw a petition to permit physical affection.” He looked at Katie.

“Jesse, Katie, Lin, move along,” ordered Jacoby, rounding us up like

little kids.

No one protested, including Lin. We caught up to our group at the end

of the corridor and walked out into the mayhem: halloweens screamed,

growled, booed, psyclined, flew around, chatted, and chomped. Every

inch of space teemed with mad activity.

265

A circular road in front of us split in three. The left road led to a festive

boulevard lined with merchant booths. The middle road stretched straight

ahead to a large cavern. The only halloweens I saw go in there were

hulky giants. The third path on the right led to a dusky town with

bunched-up buildings and narrow streets. Behind it was the giant Jack O’

Dome.

The center of the circular road was like an enormous commercial

anthill with countless signs, billboards, decorative pumpkins, a festival

map the size of a tablecloth, flying jack-o’-lanterns, and a crawling

spider intercom announcing special events and SGC news.

A flying lantern, making its way through the crowd, stopped by a scary

black-boned malicauht skeletis. The skeletis rippled its bone, and the

jack-o’-lantern darted away, now braking sharply in front of Jacoby.

“Hello,” said the lantern in an ingratiating baritone. “This is a big

group. Can I hear a scream?”

Only Lin screamed.

“This festival is scarier and grander than any festival out there. Every

park here is bigger than the entire Australia Festival. What is your

pleasure today, you hideous monsters? Would you like a tour guide?

Information?”

“We are fine,” said Jacoby.

“Do you have any questions on where to start?”

“No. We’ll be moving on.”

“Okay. Thank you and have a frightful day.”

The pumpkin sensed movement and spotted a group of bluian vampires

who cursed it before it spoke, smashing it into a large sign right as we

walked up to it.

Africa Festival Operating Hours: Pacific PM 1:00 - 9:59

CANDY of the HOUR: Badeck’s

the FOUR GAMES

park location: JJ WB

Jack O’ Games finals - Jesse vs. Jake

Fright time: 4:03 - 4:06

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Jack’s Memorial

Fright times: 5:00 - 9:00

Wandering Lost quarter-finals

Fright times: 6:10 - 7:10

Boral’s Speed Road quarter-finals

Fright times: 7:59 - 7:59:40

events & restaurants & shops OF CHILLS

park location: mysterious wonders

Monster Mash

Fright times: 1:15 5:15 7:15

Movies

(showtimes at theater)

Fright times: 2:00 - 9:32

THE CAGED MONSTER

Fright times: 1:00 - 9:59

“I KNOW MORE HALLOWEEN HISTORY THAN YOU”

Fright times: 1:45 2:45

CHAMPIONSHIP: 8:00

Bennie’s Magic Show

Fright times: 1:45 2:45 5:45 6:45

“I Cry Help”

Fright times: 6:00 7:00 8:00

CHAMPIONSHIP: 9:00

Scary Ghost Stories

Fright times: 7:01 8:02 9:03

RESTAURANTS: BAY PIRATE, CANDY ISLAND, CC DINING, 3 MEALS, LAB

484, NO FORKS, HOUR OF THE DAY, HEEBIE-JEEBIES

SHOPS: STUFF & TREATS, BADDIES, DEAD STUFF, WITCH WHACKS,

TRICKS & TREATS, CANDY-CANDY, FIT ALL COSTUMES

267

events, shows, & attractions are subject to change without omen

rides OF TERROR

park location: death zone

Boogie Boogie

Fright times: 1:00 - 5:00

“The Real” Haunt House

Fright times: 1:00 - 5:00

“AAAAHHH”

Fright times: 1:00 - 5:00

End Of All Monsters

Fright times: 1:00 - 5:00

The Endless Grave

Fright times: 1:00 - 5:00

‘I Hate This Ride’

Fright times: 1:00 - 5:00

WW Potion is required for ALL rides

SPONSORS: SGC * FRANKY * WIBBLERS INC. * YELLOW GUTS *

DEAD MAN COFFIN * SCARY CANDY COMPANY * CREEPY CATS

I eyed my options, anxious to try just about anything, whatever would

take my mind off of the match and the ominous Jack O’ Dome looming

on the horizon beyond the hazy town. I was eyeing the entrance to the

Mysterious Wonders park, which had the booths in the front and tall

haunted houses, markets, and shops in the back. I could hear the

delighted screams of countless halloweens as they poured in along

cobwebbed dividers.

MYSTERIOUS WONDERS

The area in front of the rocky cavern had no signs. There was only one

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inscription glowing softly in the rock:

DEATH ZONE

The entrance was guarded by two hooded skeletis. I studied the third

entrance, fashioned under the legs of a twenty-foot-tall mummy, made of

wood and rough cloth. The park’s name was spelled out in bold red and

black letters throughout the cloth.

JJ WB JJ WB JJ WB

JJ WB JJ WB JJ WB

At the entrance to JJ WB park, were two familiar halloweens, Mike

and Vince, who grew thinner every day. They wore baggy overalls and

were stuffed with hay. Mike had no arms.

Katie stepped away for a moment to look at the mummy guards at the

Mysterious Wonders’ booth, however, she never let me out of her sight.

More and more halloweens walked past us. Soon we lost track of our

group. Jacoby psyclined from the other side of the island and pulled us

through the crowd to a gate between the Death Zone cave and the

entrance to Mysterious Wonders. On the closed gate was a dark

inscription:

-Beyond this point only Jesse’s party of fifteen & park officials may enter-

Warning: violators subject to a melkian gargoyle curse

It was almost perfect because I had a party of fourteen: Jacoby, Oz,

Katie, myself, Duma, Lin, Soundrec, Shreek, Franky, Hess, Peter, Ray,

Nail and Nick.

I stepped inside, fearing I was going to get cursed anyway. Jacoby said

we were going to see a film because that was what Lin wanted. I didn’t

mind.

We entered the Mysterious Wonders and walked through the packed

boulevard of booths filled with merchandise, amusements, games, and

information. The place was crowded beyond belief. I couldn’t even see

inside some of the booths.

While we waited for the crowd to move, a flier floated into my hands.

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It was for a nearby candy shop.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| HAUNT HOUSE PRINT HHCOPYRIGHT HD 2447 ADVERTISEMENTS PAGE 19

Wrappers No HH Tax

Sealed & Opened

Badeck’s - IN STOCK

All halloweens permitted

Properly Manufactured By Yellow Guts & Scary Candy Company

Jack O’ Games Chocolate Figurines

All candy has Cafang’s 1000g Saturated & Trans Fat Addition

HD 2447 Top Candy Sellers:

Badeck’s 396 Candy of the Day Candy Corn 391 Brainaches 166

Chocolate Chew 164 Yucky, Ewwy 155 Brittle Mouths 155

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| HAUNT HOUSE PRINT HHCOPYRIGHT HD 2447 ADVERTISEMENTS PAGE 19

/ESP RECORDS/ Skool External Spooker Player - 50 CC’s + SGC TAX

Cry Plugs - 5 CC’s + SGC TAX

Volume Up Yowl - 3 CC’s + SGC TAX

Volume Up Growl - 8 CC’s + SGC TAX

HIT RECORDS WEARY TORTICS by Big Ears - 8 CC’s + SGC TAX (IN STOCK)

DISABILITIES by Haun Gale - 13 CC’s + SGC TAX (SOLD OUT FOR 10 MIN)

SAMHAIN CLASSICS by Numerous Artists - 20 CC’s + SGC TAX (SOLD OUT FOR 2 MIN)

HIT SINGLES Green Thing by Dan Vamp - 2 CC’s + SGC TAX (IN STOCK)

I’m A Witch And I Don’t Fly by Haun Gale - 3 CC’s + SGC TAX (IN STOCK)

Second Life by James Tee Scream - 2 CC’s + SGC TAX (SOLD OUT FOR 1 MIN)

Candy Corn Living by Angel Sibyl - 2 CC’s + SGC TAX (IN STOCK)

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| HAUNT HOUSE PRINT HHCOPYRIGHT HD 2447 ADVERTISEMENTS PAGE 19

Lin pointed out the hit singles, Candy Corn Living and Green Thing,

which were his favorites. And he informed us that the only reason

270

Badeck’s was so popular was because gargoyles and gremlins bought

more candy than anyone.

The flier jumped out of my hands and landed in the claws of a gang of

gremlins. I watched it jumping of its own accord from one claw to the

next, and then fly away into the moonlight.

We moved on, shuffling slowly along with the crowd. Hess told Jacoby

in private if I were late for the check-in, park officials would have

scavengers tear me to pieces. Lin overheard this and made sure to inform

me at once. I would be sarsca food before the Dark Hours, and he

wouldn’t go to my funeral if I were killed. Funerals were boring, he

added.

Dang it, I hated this. I didn’t want to compete. But I didn’t want to be

hacked up either. Either way, postponing the inevitable was now my only

comfort.

“Jacoby, let’s go sign in,” I made a decision.

“It’s too early, Jesse,” he replied.

“I don’t want to be late.”

“Jesse.”

“Fine.”

I didn’t put up a fight because Katie was just then watching two

mummies holding hands. She turned to me, and I shrugged like an idiot.

The truth was, I actually wanted to hold her hand. I just didn’t dare to

take the initiative.

Duma was acting completely oblivious and without a care in the world,

sprawled on the pumpkin tile floor inside a gift shop, yelping a bit and

biting himself.

“Melaskimel, stop,” said Jacoby.

Duma rose to his feet and gave Jacoby the stare. Behind Duma was a

figurine of a skinny teenager with orange hair. As I inched closer, I felt

an eerie tingle inside. It was me. It even had my marks: the double-ended

arrow, the “festival clear,” the spider scar, and the birthmark on my left

leg.

Katie was already fiddling with the toy. She turned it upside down and

lifted up the bottom of the cloak.

“Katie, what are you doing?” I said, tensing up.

“Just checking if they’ve got your leg mark right,” she said, setting the

miniature me back down quickly.

“Jess!” Oz raised her voice, noticing my “tattoos” on my arm because

271

of the stupid toy. “What are these?”

“It’s not a tattoo. It’s . . . it’s ink. Katie drew it yester . . .”

Katie shook her head, ashamed. “Stupid,” she muttered under her

breath.

Oz took me to the corner stacked with Jack O’ Games merchandise and

scolded me, as though I was thirteen years old. As she went on and on, I

watched Lin talk to a frizzy-haired cashier up front, exchanging a

package of candy for two wristbands.

“Jesse’s my friend,” Lin told the cashier. “You’re ripping me off,

witch. I own a candy shop. I know how things work at festivals. You see

that over there? Jesse is in trouble.”

“Jess, look at me,” said Oz, frustrated.

“This is embarrassing, Oz,” I grumbled. “Can you punish me later?

They’re looking at us.”

Oz and I were momentarily distracted by a smiling witch who was

dragging a life-sized dress-up dummy of me out of the shop. It was the

most disturbing thing I had seen in my life.

Oz smiled, and so did Katie. I wasn’t amused at all.

The shop had everything: posters, masks, black lace-up boots, candy,

tricks and gags, globe strobe lights, vampire fang retainers, inflatable

100-foot pumpkins, halloween celebrity medallions, cursed props,

coffins, art portraits, portable cauldrons, and all kinds of jewelry:

wiskchickian witch earrings, pumpkin-bead necklaces, skull rings, and

sparkling bracelets. And then there were the O’ Games gifts, souvenirs,

and merchandise with my name and face printed all over it. There were

Jesse Action Figures with motion-sensors and sound effects, cheering

stickers, hair ties, wristbands, orange-bristled brooms, Candy Corn, toys,

twisty lights, hats, replicas of my warlock cloak, orange and red flags to

match my hair, and hundreds of T-shirts inked with my name, an orange-

leaf tree, and a banner bearing the slogan “a tree is a weed.”

Katie thought it was hilarious. I didn’t. It might have been funny back

when Bert had used it, but not now that it was casually attached to me.

Wait . . . how did they get a hold of this joke? Did a halloween invade

my memories? And why did everyone think Jacoby and I looked like

trees?

Oz shook my shoulder. “Jess, this is no time to daydream.”

Katie was still laughing. You would think my life was just one big

joke.

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“This is not funny,” I scowled.

She didn’t stop laughing.

“Jesse, you made her laugh,” mentioned Lin.

Jacoby made his way towards the door, signaling to us that it was time

to go. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. There were too many

halloweens all around me, snapping photos of me and staring

shamelessly. Just as I elbowed my way to Jacoby, I was intercepted by a

group of pert adolescent witches, asking me to sign their tree-T-shirt.

Katie took my hand.

Stunned by this, the witches just stood there speechless, staring at us,

while we started our climb back up the Mysterious Wonders promenade.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the witches trailing behind us.

The smallest witch drifted through the crowd and released a sparkling

green light out of her wiggling fingers, which flew over and hovered

above Katie’s head, squawking “ugly!” over and over.

Peter hurriedly coughed a crackling cloud onto the vocal spell,

countering it immediately.

“You all need to leave,” commanded Jacoby, looking like he meant

business.

The witches blew away in a blustery psyclin like leaves in the wind.

This was perfect timing because we finally reached the majestic Mansion

Theater. The three-story Victorian building was crawling with wily

spectacalons, and an invisible marching band could be heard tuning its

instruments.

Jacoby took us to the ticket booth, where Lin was already buying

tickets for all of us with two packages of Chunks and one package of

Strawberry Dead Beets.

MOVIES SCARE TIMES

*JACK KILLS AGAIN* 1:00 - 7:00 (every 30 min)

suspense, drama, horror

HDA25 human death after 25 4 claws - “Chilling” “Best of the day”

“Seen it fifteen times” “Mimi Pike’s

conjure-movie debut is a masterpiece”

*I SHARE YOUR HEART 1:00 - 7:00 (every 25 min)

AND LEG*

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comedy

HDA3 human death after 3 3 claws - “A great flick” “After it, I

wanted to share my candy with everyone”

“Spectacalon hilarious”

*LIFE OF THE TORTICS* 1:00 - 7:00 (every 60 min)

historical drama, horror

HDA25 human death after 25 ½ claw - “I vomited” “I’d rather eat Black

Licorice”

*JESSE VERSUS JAKE* 1:00 - 7:00 (every 3 min)

comedy, horror, drama

HDA17 human death after 17 4 claws - “Haunting” “What will happen”

“Definitely not for younglings”

*OH NO, A MONSTER* 1:00 - 7:00 (every 15 min)

comedy, kids adventure

HDA3 human death after 3 3 ½ claws - “Date movie” “Sadly GREAT!”

*SEALONS IN THE WILD* 1:00 - 7:00 (every 25 min)

historical drama

HDA3 human death after 3 1 claw - “Sealons? Who cares?”

“Fantastic footage!”

* without proper Entry-Identification no ticket can be purchased

* all CC CONJURES are accepted (no peeled corners on CC boxes)

Lin handed us tickets to “Sealons in the Wild”.

“Sorry, Jesse,” he said. “Jacoby won’t let us see anything else. I’ve

already snuck in to see Jack Kills Again. It’s too scary.”

A bunch of halloweens came leaping down the portico steps of

Mansion Theater, chewing candy and chatting loudly.

“One claw, for me. The ending, however, was phenomenal.”

“You gone liosellion? They have Jake murdering him. It got me all

teary.”

“What? That was awesome the way Jake crushed him at the end! I

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wish they could’ve gotten a better actor for Jesse. His death wasn’t good.

I was laughing–”

They spotted me. After an awkward pause, they giggled bashfully and

wished me luck.

“Jesse, don’t worry,” Lin leaned to me confidentially. “Half of these

movies stink! The directors spend five hours max on them.”

“Lin, we need to get moving,” prodded Jacoby.

“Come on, shrubby head, don’t be a poopa’!” yipped Lin. “When’s the

last time you saw a movie?”

Katie and I ran up some carpeted steps, covered in piles of leaves, and

into a big hall, quickly handing our ticket to a mummy ticket ripper in a

red-suit. Lin psyclined up to us.

“Hey, there’s no psyclining here!” blurted the mummy.

“I’m in my last hours,” retorted Lin. “I might die any day now.”

“Psyclin one more time, and I’ll make it today.”

“Not so fast. . . . Look behind me.”

In came Jacoby, Franky, Hess, Peter, Soundrec, and Shreek, followed

by Duma, Oz, Ray, Nail and Nick.

“Why don’t you charm the place?” Lin asked the dumbfounded

mummy.

“We’re working on it,” he mumbled, unable to take his eyes off of my

group.

“Fourteen,” said Jacoby to the mummy.

“Huh . . . okay,” he mumbled in a daze, putting out his hand.

Katie and I peeked inside Auditorium 4, screening Jack Kills Again.

There was no screen. A thick fog was flowing through the aisles and

around mounds of yslas corpses. I would have thought it was real if not

for a small glitch in the hologram.

Katie and I were tempted to slip into the Jesse Versus Jake auditorium,

but Jacoby and Hess made sure we didn’t, firmly directing us to

Auditorium 3, a cool and misty place, made to look like it was

underwater. Three-stories of brightly lit balcony seats encompassed a

large round pool in the center. The movie experience was actually pretty

engaging. We had to hold our breaths underwater for ten seconds at a

time, which Nick handled very well, and I learned that sealons were the

largest halloweens ever to have lived on earth. Also, they breathed air

twice in their lifetime and lived between ten to twenty days.

“You okay, Lin?” said Katie once outside. The soaked audience was

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slowly filing out, looking as depressed as Lin and as wet as us.

“Yeah,” answered Lin, sniffing a snot string back up his nose. “I’ve

seen it four times – I never cry so late in the movie. I hate tortics.”

“It was sad, no?” Katie turned to me.

“Yeah.”

Hess hurried us along because we were already running late to our

reservation at a pirate restaurant, the best in all the festivals, according to

Lin. Jacoby looked reluctant to go, but Oz assured him that Nick’s and

Lin’s crankiness would get unbearable if we didn’t. Soundrec was

thrilled because he was hungry. Shreek was altogether glum; he wanted

to be in the sky, not on festival grounds. He languidly followed the Night

Watchers with his eyes as they flew by.

Jacoby was watching the wind blow back Duma’s ears as he was

carefully weighing pros and cons of going to a restaurant. “Alright. Lin, I

don’t want anymore fussing.” This inadvertently also applied to Nick,

who now was shifting uneasily.

“Nick, what do you say?” said Nail.

“My mom wants me to say thank you, Jacoby.”

Jacoby said nothing in reply.

Lin took the lead, guiding us onto a wet dock packed with witches. Lin

explained to me the differences between all the witches. Wilarchike

witches, the first ones we passed, were gorgeous, flawless, and tall, as

Lin put it, and were mild-tempered, never angry, rude, or violent. They

usually wore colorful dresses. Their red or blue hair was silky, long and

straight. A welchick witch was the exact opposite; they were wrinkly,

grouchy, with short tangled hair, capable of cursing or killing a child or a

spectacalon. Wiskchickian witches were mysterious, had long finger

nails, possessed the most Jical’s magic, and fed on animal hearts.

The left side of the dock was lined with old stores, among them the

KinPumpKings shop, which sold pumpkins, turnips, and jack-o’-

lanterns. I remembered KinPumpKin from last year. He was tall and

skinny with dark yellowish hair. His gray cloth coat was covered in

glittering cobwebs.

Katie and I waved at him. He didn’t wave back, clearly not

remembering us.

“Pumpkins?” rasped the KinPumpKin, psyclining to us. He was

carrying a bag full of pumpkins.

“How much?” said Katie.

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“Chewy Pumpkins are one-thousand CC’s–”

“You candy-high?” exclaimed Lin.

“We’re fine,” said Jacoby.

I just loved the halloween environment. If it weren’t for the Dark

Hours and the bad halloweens, this would be nothing short of perfect.

Just walking amidst halloweens, once fellow humans, made me feel

alive. I only wished that I could have brought my human friends. Bert,

Amy, and Sam would have loved it here.

I peeked at Katie’s orange-and-black wristband that Lin had bought for

her.

JESS WINS JESS WINS JESS WINS JESS WINS JESS WINS JESS WINS

JESS WINS JACK O’ GAMES FINALS - HD 2447 JESS WINS

JESS WINS Jesse VS Jake JESS WINS

JESS WINS biffle warlock quelix warlock JESS WINS

JESS WINS JESS WINS JESS WINS JESS WINS JESS WINS JESS WINS

It didn’t cheer me up any. Katie seemed to like it, though. She wore it

next to her wristwatch, which she must have picked up at the house when

I was in Greenland. She pointed at wilarchike witches and warlocks

dancing to a live band of scarecrows and gremlins. I snapped out of my

brooding for just a moment, but watching the merry dancers only made

me feel even more dismal. I barely even noticed that she was dragging

me over to the dance floor. Oh no!

“I can’t dance,” I said quickly, blushing blood-red as she pulled me up

onto a square marble floor designed in musical notes, candy corns, and

happy-faced jack-o’-lanterns. “I can’t. Katie!”

I hated when she pretended not to hear me.

“Katie!”

She began swaying her hips. That was it. I was a goner. Oh well, I told

myself, wilarchike witches couldn’t dance anyway, and nor could the

warlocks. All they seemed to care about was smiling and laughing. Some

were doing the bat dance while others wiggled their butts. I recognized

the song, A Scary Shadow. I remembered Katie singing it for me once

before.

The band of black gremlins were singing together like a class of

elementary school students.

“I rang the doorbell and saw a shadow. It moaned a hoot just like an

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owl. Mommy, mommy, what is that I see. It’s dark and scary. Mommy,

mommy, I want to flee.”

It was funny dancing to such a childish song.

Katie took both of my hands and swayed with the beat, singing along,

trying to get me to sing along, too.

“Trick or treat, trick or treat, a scary shadow is on your wall – come

on, Jesse, you know the lyrics, too!”

I saw no reason not to sing since I was already dancing, so I joined in.

The couples around us followed our lead, all singing along and giggling.

Giddiness and glee ruled the dance floor. Lin was doing the bat dance

with a wilarchike twice his height, and Jacoby and Oz were doing some

formal dance. Oz was just as good as Jacoby, keeping up with him step

for step. Soundrec, Shreek, and Hess watched from the sideline, a bit

puzzled. Duma was darting around the floor, confused and apprehensive,

looking to escape the rowdy scene. He hurled himself at a wilarchike, but

she scooped him up and carried him out.

“It’s moving, it’s coming, it’s going to eat me. Daddy’s here, listen to

me, it’s a scary shadow. Say this with me: I’m brave, I’m smart, I’m not

going nowhere. Trick or treat, trick or treat, a scary shadow is on your

wall . . .”

I spun Katie, getting better with every move. Dancing was easy. All I

had to do was move a body part – and there I was, dancing! I bobbed my

head.

“What’s that?” giggled Katie.

“The bobbing-for-apples dance,” I said, trying to sound sure of myself.

The next song came on with a crackle, I’m A Witch And I Don’t Fly by

Haun Gale. Katie and I were too dizzy from spinning each other to

continue, and so we stepped off for a breather. Many more halloweens

now flocked to the stage, eager to try the spinning-and-swaying routine

we just demonstrated. However, they mostly spun their dizzy partners off

the stage.

Jacoby and Oz were still dancing, and she was weeping tears of

happiness. To my surprise, my feelings had changed; I no longer hated

their affection for each other and was even happy for Oz. She was finally

happy. I pulled myself together, feeling my eyes starting to water. They

stepped off the stage while Peter got a psyclin number from a really

pretty wilarchike.

Everyone sat down on covered cauldrons planted around a wooden

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table in the shape of a flattened pumpkin. We hadn’t realized it, but we

were sitting outside of the sea restaurant. A pretty redian vampire came

over, wearing a shredded white dress shirt and brown pants, which lit up

around the waistline. She wore a pirate patch over her left eye.

“How many in your party – oh, you’re Jesse!” She greeted happily. “I

wish you luck. I heard great things about you and . . . Katie,” she

finished, spotting her. “Katie, I cried yesterday when you won I Know

More Halloween History Than You. I have a soft spot for spectacalon

competitors.”

“Thanks,” gasped Katie, a little out of breath like the rest of us.

“You think you’ll play again today? The questions are harder here.”

“Not today,” said Jacoby. “We’re the party of fourteen, under no

name.”

“Oh, you’re the big one. Give me one minute.”

She came back exactly one minute later with a bluian vampire

waitress. She had blue hair and blue eyes. She was dressed the same.

They escorted us up a steep creaking plank into a large pirate ship. On

the side of the boat was the name:

Bay Pirate Keeper of the

eye patch vampires

Inside were dewy pillars draped with dripping fishing nets, and

decorated with eye patches, swords, knives, plastic fangs, jewelry, candy

clusters, and gold coins. The floorboards creaked and tottered under our

feet, as though the ship was out at sea.

We were seated on a long bench next to a massive table, covered with

a brown tablecloth and a fishing net. The table was set with oversized

knives, spoons and forks. A traditional pirate’s lament played from the

far side of the room.

Duma was given a stool, but wouldn’t stay put, lurking instead around

the table like an idiot. They even brought in a special baby chair for

Nick. Everyone chatted and laughed. Only Hess seemed unable to relax;

he constantly threw desperate glances at the hundreds of antique clocks

hanging on the walls.

“Welcome to Bay Pirate, Keeper of the Eyepatch Vampires, my name

is Gigi and I will be one of three waitresses serving you this horrid day,”

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intoned the redian vampire at the head of the table, while two waitresses

handed out chilled bowls and fifteen-inch plates. “We have two soup

specials today, Brain Afloat and Slobbery Corn. Sad hours will walk the

plank in five minutes. Anyone care for a toxic drink?”

“We are good,” said Jacoby.

“We’ll be back in two. Scream if you have a question.”

The menus were thin sheets of wood with a map of Tanzania delicately

carved into them. Katie and I studied the same menu while Duma was

chewing on mine.

Bay Pirate Bay Pirate Bay Pirate Bay Pirate Bay Pirate Bay Pirate

[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]

MENU SLICING & DICING []\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]

Keeper of the eye patch vampires Keeper of the eye patch vampires

Entrees

All barrels & plates are given a nasty side order from the dock, and a choice

of finger fries, creepy fruit, and ½ Candy Corn

Graveyard Breakfast.................................................................................................... 4 CC’s

Melted cheddar cheese and smothered eggs. Served with Melflin Muffins and

two decapitated finger sausages with your choice of chocolate pancakes,

burnt bacon, tombstone potatoes, or goblin vomit

Flabby Eye Omelet.......................................................................................................... 4 CC’s

A barrel of four eggs, filled with olives, gargled spit, chewed tomatoes,

crunchy bell peppers, Swiss cheese, and Chocolate Balls. Drizzled with

mozzarella and served with a Melflin Muffin, Gravy Pork Loin, two Dirt Toasts,

or a Chocolate Roll

My Messy Sirloin ........................................................................................................... 5 CC’s

56 ounce broiled Wisk Sirloin, topped with roasted and shredded artichoke

and your choice of pure chocolate fresh from Witch Bakery in Ireland.

Specially flavored by top Bay Pirate Chef, seasoned with sugar cubes and

fresh basil, and brined with an earthworm pasta and gorilla armpit sweat

Gravestone Pizza........................................................................................................... 3 CC’s

Crispy crust, giant sausages, brown bell peppers, chilly tomato sauce

blended with rich Caramel. Sprinkled with moldy cheddar cheese.

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I found what I wanted, and so did Katie. Both of us ordered a

Gravestone Pizza, substituting fresh cheese for the moldy cheese. For our

drinks, we picked a cauldron of Acid Milk to share with Lin and Nick,

and we all shared a Bon Fire Artichoke. Our meals were decorated with

candy, fudge, and caramel, and came with tiny glass shots of sugar. The

waitresses gave me a confused look when I passed my sugar shots to Lin.

Every halloween at the table, besides Jacoby, was dumping three or four

sugar shots right on their meals. Katie and I almost gagged. It was the

funniest and grossest thing in the world. Nail helped Nick to carefully

pour a spoonful of hot fudge on his Gargoyle Deluxe Burger along with a

half shot of sugar. It looked nasty, but he seemed to enjoy it.

Lin mostly behaved, except for when he became convinced that his

food was alive and flipped over his plate of pasta, dumping the food all

over Duma. Everyone laughed.

“Duma, you are so awesome!” I taunted, laughing hysterically. “I wish

I was so awesome.”

Duma went crazy, and I had to hang him up to dry in front of the ship’s

inside propellers, which fanned the room, to cool him off. The unruliness

proved contagious. Katie splattered me with the pasta remains. Now she

was laughing hysterically.

“You are awesome, Jesse,” she said, unable to contain herself, nearly

falling off her chair.

Trying to join in, Lin pitched a sirloin right at Jacoby’s face. Jacoby

was so angry.

“Lin, that was impolite,” he said.

“But it was funny,” smiled Oz.

The moment was perfect. I could say this was what I wanted my life to

be like.

Hess finally demanded that we leave as we only had twenty more

minutes before I had to sign in. All of the halloweens pulled out sacks of

candy. None of the humans had any. Lin offered to pay for the meal, but

Franky wouldn’t have it, and had the waitress add it to his tab.

“Jacoby?” said Gigi, taking out her plastic fangs. “My entire staff

wanted to take a picture with all of you. And if you wouldn’t mind, could

you sign the photo?”

“Sure,” I said for him.

She excitedly called over the staff who had all been just waiting for her

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signal. We went to one of the clock walls, and Gigi jumped up in the air

and levitated a Scream Cam in front of us.

“Scream!” shouted Lin.

“AAAHHH!” we all screamed.

It was a day to remember, and the picture captured it perfectly. Since

Lin didn’t have to pay for anything, he insisted on buying a photo for all

of us.

Gigi and the rest of the staff escorted us out with a long line of

handshakes. They wished me luck and said they were closing down in

twenty minutes to go to the stadium.

The dock was a ghost town. It was so quiet I could hear the two

welchick waitresses talking politics while cleaning up the outside tables.

But midway through their conversation, I heard a soft distant wail

drifting in from the backside of the park.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

’

“I know that whimper,” I stated confidently, not caring what Jacoby or

anyone else might say, and strode across the empty dance floor. I walked

past a foggy amphitheater lined with werewolf butler statues holding

plates of granite candy corn, and finally ended up under a crooked

thatched roof. The winding passage led to a small museum of historical

documents and archival pictures of halloweens. I didn’t care to read any

of the headlines. I exited the museum and jogged up a small hill. A sign

was planted at the top.

Warning: there is a high risk of deadly conjures on

anyone who crosses the blood line.

The “blood line” ran across the ground.

“Should we cross it?” I asked Katie, who had been right behind me the

entire time. I was lingering mischievously with my toes right over the

line. But Katie had already crossed it and marched ahead.

“It’s Abe,” she said.

I followed her up to a cage with white bars and peered inside. It was

raining inside, and the trees were creaking and swaying. I could barely

see the back of the cage.

“Abe!” I shouted, not sure where to look. “It’s me, Jesse!”

Abe’s info was listed on a plaque below.

Ozmapel in Captivity

Name: Abe Kelvin Samhain: ozmapel

Samhain Birth: 1EnT 2447 Human Age: 8 years

Murders since Entry: 000 Extreme Magic: 4

Height: 9' 11" Weight: 488 pounds

Coat Color: red Arm Span: 10' 10"

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Eye Color: red & black Primary period of inhabitants: Veil of Time

Samhain Life facts: escaped E.Z. at 12:28:06, only to be captured hours

later by the SGC. Considered by Samhain Historians to be the next

Lorseria Luvale.

“Stupid!” she cried.

“I know. Abe!” I shouted, rattling the bars. I wanted to march to the

Haunt House and do something. I didn’t know what I would do, but I

was ready to do some damage.

The conjured rain continued pounding the muddy floor. We poked our

heads in and yelled until we couldn’t yell anymore. Why wasn’t Abe

showing himself?

“Jesse, get away from there!” yelled Lin, staying behind the blood line.

“There’s an ozmapel in there!”

“Aaaabe!” Katie and I yelled together.

“Jesse, Katie, step away from the bars,” said Jacoby at my side.

Everyone else was behind the line, waiting. “It’s time to go.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” I snapped, glowering at him like he was

one of them. “He’s not dangerous! He’s an eight-year-old boy!”

Jacoby studied me calmly. “Jesse, we need to keep moving. This

matter can be dealt with later.”

“No,” I said, as he put himself between the cage and us. “Move! I don’t

care what you or anyone else says! Get - out - of - my - way!”

“Jesse!” scolded Oz.

Great. Just what I needed.

“Listen to your fath–”

“Don’t talk to me, Oz!” I said in an unrecognizable grim voice. I felt

my hands shake. I squinted my eyes, trying to hold back my anger. When

I finally opened them, everyone was staring at me. “Oz?” I cried. “I’m

sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll move along.”

“We’ll come back, Abe!” yelled Katie. “We’re going to get you out!”

I wanted to add my own words of comfort to that, but I just moved

along like I was told to do. I hated myself.

“I hate myself,” I mumbled.

Lin timidly bowed his head and hurried up to the front with Jacoby and

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Hess.

Our large group exited the amphitheater and headed along the side of

the dock toward the boulevard of booths. The place was deserted. Most

of the booths were closed or closing.

“Where is everyone?” I heard Lin say up front.

“The Jack O’ Dome,” answered Jacoby.

“What’s wrong with Jesse?” Lin peeked back to get a quick look at me.

“He’s fine.”

“Weird,” said Katie right next to me, looking in the direction of a lit

billboard glowing with running quotes. Just as I passed it, it flashed a

new set.

"Good can turn bad and bad can turn good, but pure goodness cannot

turn bad and pure evil cannot turn good."

- Julee Wacula, redian vampire, HD 1796

"One who lives beyond our loved ones can only be an Angel."

- Starla Yelp, welchick witch, HD 1598

"No life knows what it is until its end."

- Jordan Vessel, bredock goblin, HD 2375

The billboard was posted to the left of a dark building, which looked

like a provincial school building. Lin stepped up to it as the last quotes

vanished and a third set of quotes appeared, about the life of bees.

I walked up to a red door with a plated sign nailed to it.

The Cure For The Unknown

Cure Time: 10 min

Price: 2000 CC’s

“Jesse,” said Jacoby at the doorstep with me.

“I want to do this,” I said.

I didn’t have to wait that long for his response. “We have exactly ten

minutes.”

“I don’t want anyone inside except you and Duma.”

“Alright. Melaskimel!” called Jacoby, going in first.

The three of us entered a dreary narrow hallway with shaded windows

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and scowling portraits of halloween clients. The hallway wrapped around

the building, bringing us to a wall covered in squiggly writing.

I FEEL I HAVE AN UNUSUAL PROBLEM SHY

CANDY ADDICTION GRIEF PHOBIAS

SCARED TEMPER GUILT DEPRESSION

I AM OVERWHELMED BY THE OMINOUS WORLD OF HALLOWEEN

LONELINESS ISOLATION

SPEAK YOUR WORDS MY GREAT ONE

A piece of black paper with white ink in a fancy frame, read:

Festival Board Audit of Barry Sylvia

Halloween Day 2447

Patients treated: 26* (average therapist: 204)

Will travel? Yes

Psychiatric License: none

Days to complete halloween qualification: 20

Experience: 3 days

Human education: Bachelor of Mathematics

Human profession: High School Teacher

Referral: Dr. Goo (previous proprietor)

The snaking hallway opened up to a dusty room with four rows of

chairs, a bookcase of psychology books, and a desk. A red-striped goblin

with black toad skin and long scaly claws greeted us from behind the

desk. He was thin and wore a simple dress shirt and long shorts.

“Good . . . evening,” he said slowly, eyeing Jacoby. “Will you be

wanting a cure?”

Jacoby glanced at me as I walked up to the desk.

“What is your name, type, and human age?”

“Jesse. Biffle warlock. Fifteen.”

“The reason for your visit?”

I took a long time to answer. “Anger.”

“Sorry, Jacoby, but no one can sit in during the session. Such are the

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rules.”

“He’s staying,” I said. “And my cat.”

“We’ll stay in the back,” said Jacoby, dropping 10 packages of candy

on the therapist’s desk.

“Thanks,” muttered the goblin, a little shy. He waited for Jacoby and

Duma to move to the back. “Jesse, you can sit.”

I hesitantly sat in the closest chair while he flipped through the first

few pages of a large book, mumbling to himself something like “begin

the first session with small talk” and “do not lead the conversation”.

Finally, he looked up from the book.

“Why did you come to me? . . . Sorry.” He glanced at Jacoby, which he

had been doing for the past few minutes. “Are you going to watch the

final match for the Jack O’ Games?”

I didn’t answer.

“I never go,” he said. “It’s too much for me. Do you like the Games?”

“Could we get started?”

“Yes.” He buried his head into the book again while stealing more

glances at Jacoby. “How to cope with anger,” he mumbled, running his

claws along the text in the book. “Work up Jical’s magic, psyclin,

meditate, talk to a . . . okay, Jesse, let’s first start with your background.

One’s past life is almost fifty percent of the reason why we act the way

we do. Were there ever problems in the household: parents fighting,

abuse, alcoholism, divorce, rape, a death of a family member?”

“No.”

“Do you still talk to your human parents?”

“Yes.”

“That is very good. Why don’t you . . . I’m sorry, Jesse, but I’m still

learning. I promise I’ll cure you in ten minutes if that’s what you really

want. Could you tell me your biggest concern?”

“I hurt others,” I came straight out with it.

He looked affected by those words. “When was the first time? It could

be mental or physical.”

“Duma!” I called out, turning around. My cat didn’t move from

Jacoby’s side. “Melaskimel, please come. You’re my cat.”

Duma came and jumped into my lap.

“First time, Jesse?” said the therapist.

“I . . . threw a snail,” I said quietly, petting Duma’s back.

“Okay. Another time?”

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“Another?”

“Yes. It doesn’t have to be physical.”

“I kissed a girl I hate in front of a girl I like.”

He sat back in his chair. “Why did you do that?”

“So I could get answers–”

“What, like math answers?” he interrupted sarcastically, but quickly

checked himself. “Answers, meaning?”

“Why I do bad things. I want an explanation of who I am.”

“But there’s no such thing.”

“Why?”

“‘No life knows what it is until its end’,” quoted the goblin. “That’s

what makes life hard. I had the same conflicts as you when I was in my

early twenties. I never wanted to be a math teacher. I wasn’t great at

anything; I didn’t get good enough grades in college to apply for

graduate school.”

“Yeah, but that’s different!”

“It’s different for everyone.”

“Yeah, but why do I want to leave right now? I’m getting angry with

you.”

The uncertified therapist looked deep into my eyes. “You seem fine to

me–”

“I’m not!” I shouted, startling Duma, who was close to jumping off my

lap. “I can’t control my temper. I tried to exercise, talk it out – I tried

everything.”

“How about writing your thoughts down?”

“I said everything! I write down a billion questions – I can’t answer

half of them. I don’t have a clue as to why I am evil.”

There was a drawn-out silence. The goblin put down his book and

stood up.

“I hate myself,” I said through tears, pushing Duma off my lap. I stood

up, doubled over, and screamed.

“Control it,” ordered the goblin. “Control that impulse.”

I cried out another frightful scream. “I - hate - myself!”

“Jesse, snap out of it and remember where you are. This is a

psychiatric facility, and you are here with your friend, Jacoby, and your

cat. Do not give into your anger. Do not let it control you.”

I stood tall, tears gushing down my cheeks.

“Control it! . . . Think about what is important. . . . Do you want to be

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bad or good? . . . Control it. . . . Good. . . . That’s very good, Jesse. Let

me ask you something. You said you wrote out questions you couldn’t

find answers to. Can you tell me what kind of questions those were? . . .

Sit, please.”

I sat back down and looked back. “Melaskimel,” I called.

My cat jumped back into my lap.

“Jesse, what kind of questions?”

“Why does Hallen keep re-carving new names into his door? Why did

Carole tell me to let Wendy kiss me twice? I have another one: Who puts

up those quotes on the billboard outside?”

“Wiskchickian witches.”

“I have more.” I pulled out a page of questions from my inner pocket.

“I wrote down fifty questions over two months.”

“Jesse, trying to make sense of every little thing won’t help you find

out who you are.”

“Why not?”

“Look. Halloween hormones are ten times more willful and moody that

of a typical human teenager. I told my last patient that. Your temper is

going to be violent. But you must control it. That is a halloween’s job.

Your ten minutes are up.”

“I want to change, Barry. Please.”

“Jesse, I think you’ve been through a lot and you’ve held back a lot.

You’re in control. One last thing: what is the most important question

you have?”

I thought long and hard, carefully choosing the question, and then said,

“Do I have a purpose?”

“If you want, Jesse, I can guide you to the answer, and cure you of

your temper. But before you answer, just know that bad can turn good.

You yourself can change who you are. Now my question to you: would

you like to change yourself or would you like me to do it?”

I looked back at Jacoby.

“It’s your decision,” he said in the back row.

I scratched behind Duma’s ears, thinking. “I . . . I want you to cure

me,” I concluded.

He made a psyclin jump and clamped his claws on the side of my head.

“Toovile pula rike,” he chanted. “Toovile pula rike.”

I felt ice-cold blood running through my veins. Dizzy and nauseous, I

fell off my chair.

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I awoke with a quiet yawn.

“You have been out for two minutes,” the goblin explained, standing

next to Jacoby and Duma. “You are cured.”

“Thank you,” I sighed, not feeling any different. “When will I notice?”

“You won’t. But your temper has been tamed.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I believe your smile is worth all the Candy Corn and

Badeck’s. I’ll see you again?”

I nodded. Jacoby bowed his head at the beaming therapist.

“You deserve that certificate,” I said before exiting. I was brimming

with excitement and anticipation. Now, if only there was a way to test

my temper.

“You okay?” asked Katie the second we came out.

“Yes.”

“Jacoby, Jesse is late!” cut in Hess, before Oz could say anything to

me. “He was supposed to be at the stadium one minute ago.”

“He’ll be alright,” said Jacoby calmly, leading us down the dark road. I

was marching in the middle of our party. Oz caught up to Jacoby and

asked him something. It looked like a serious discussion.

The booths were now all closed. No one was out, except us and a

group of fans following us. They were trying to get to me, but Soundrec

and Shreek kept them at bay. The fans shouted to be heard.

“Jesse, the stadium’s packed! Are you nervous?”

“How are you planning to beat him?”

“Do you have extreme magic?”

I paid little attention, concentrating on keeping up with Hess’s and

Peter’s gargoyle stride.

“You going to get health care?” asked a black-haired wiskchickian

witch as we passed a booth titled Wikitch Welk Potion.

“Jacoby, I want health care,” I said.

Jacoby turned around. “Henry will treat you if you have any mishaps.

And Murlie will be there to ward off any malignant curses.”

Malignant curses? I didn’t like the sound of that.

“You told me he would be fine,” said Oz, walking quickly alongside

Jacoby.

“The SGC permits a player to receive free outside treatment,” said

Jacoby.

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“What are you talking about?” snapped Oz, distraught, looking like she

was going to lose it. She was definitely my mother. “He’s not competing

in this thing if there’s a chance he will get injured! He is my—”

“Becky, watch what you’re saying.”

I snuck over to the booth while everyone was distracted by Oz and

Jacoby. Katie saw this and ran after me.

“What kind of service do you supply?” I whispered to the

wiskchickian, who was cursing her stand with chains and boards. She

didn’t look at us while she spoke. “I can relieve pain after, before, or

during. I can reduce the extent of the suffering–”

“I want it,” I decided. “How many CC’s?”

“Can you handle a bastelphemanen procedure inside your Hallow’s

Soul? Most cannot.”

I nodded quickly. “How much?”

“I need a sample of your blood.”

“Alright.” I offered her my arm.

Katie looked alarmed. However, Jacoby pulled my arm away before

the witch could pierce my skin with her curved nail.

“I want to be protected,” I argued, feeling an odd stirring in the pit of

my stomach. I felt . . .

“You know you already are protected,” said Jacoby, his eyes locked on

me, never once looking at the startled witch. He wasn’t going anywhere

until we got a move on. He looked down at my stomach as he put a hand

to it. “What’s wrong with your stomach?”

“I . . . felt mad at you.”

“A psychiatric cure is old Jical’s magic. It may not work on you. How

do you feel now?”

“No longer mad. Maybe the cure beat it after all.”

“Maybe. Let’s move along.”

The walk back to my group felt strange. I couldn’t explain it. It just felt

like we were never going to stop again. No one spoke. All I could think

of was that there was a journey ahead of us. I had felt this once before,

when we climbed down Mount Helix two years ago with Jacoby and

Dorian. Katie was feeling it, too. I could tell. She was gripping my left

hand like a scared kid.

“You feel something, no?” She ventured. There was a tiny echo in the

festival grounds.

I nodded. We came to a stop. Jacoby was standing in front of the

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entrance to the JJ WB park. The two rude scarecrows sat on top of their

large haystacks.

“Yooouu,” said Vince as he plucked a straw out of his neck. “Mike,

stand up.”

“Let us in!” shouted one of the witches who followed us. “Jesse needs

to claw in!”

“Jesse, who?” said Vince.

“You candy high?” said Lin. “That’s Jesse!” They craned their necks

to see me in the back of the group with Katie. “He’s competing against

Jake in the Jack O’ Games finals!”

“We know him. We see all of you every year. Mike, I said get up! I

can’t help you all the time.”

Armless Mike wiggled off of the hay stack, falling flat on his face.

“Hey, Vince, help me up!”

“Vince, we are going in,” glared Hess.

As soon as Vince saw Hess, he cowered behind one of the mummy’s

legs, letting us pass on through.

The empty town was a maze of motley architecture. The buildings

stood dark and deserted. No lights were on anywhere.

Lin fished out of the gutter a rag-doll that looked like me. It shrieked

when Lin squeezed its chest.

“Just follow the noise,” instructed Hess.

I was confused for a moment, thinking he was talking about the doll’s

shriek because there was no other noise. But soon I heard it. A distant

crowd wafted through the streets like an ubiquitous whisper. And when it

was gone, only our footsteps could be heard.

Lin stopped by a stone pillar.

HIGH STAKE TALLIES HD 2447 JACK O’ GAMES’ FINAL MATCH

JAKE JESSE

/////////////////////////////// //

////////////////////////////// 24

//////////////////////////////

//////////////////////////////

//////////////////////////////

//////////////////////////////

195,104

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Everyone left the post without saying a word. Lin wanted to speak, but

Peter covered his mouth and nudged him along.

The wind picked up, sweeping newspapers and empty cups across the

street. Soundrec and Shreek immediately shot up in the air where four

Night Watchers flew in circles. For a moment they flew side by side with

them, and then Soundrec folded his wings and jetted down to us.

“The deaths are starting,” reported Soundrec anxiously.

“The cause?” said Jacoby.

“It wasn’t witnessed, but there was a murder. The halloweens’ bodies

were mauled and crushed. Humans were found dead nearby. It seems

they had gotten in the way.”

Nail had covered Nick’s ears.

“How many?” said Jacoby.

“Fifty halloweens and eleven humans.”

“Send Shreek out with his clan to relay this to Dorian. He can conjure

the total number of deaths that have happened so far. I need you here.”

Soundrec shot off immediately and dispensed orders to the band of

Night Watchers above us. After they psyclined, he soared back down to

rejoin us.

The bad tidings deadened our spirits. We walked on in gloomy silence.

Now that the deadly countdown had started, things around us took on a

more sinister character. Oz was the first to speak. Jacoby explained to her

that Halloween is a dark world, filled with extremes and uncertainties.

He didn’t like talking about halloween notions with her, carefully

avoiding mentions of the Veil of Time and such. Oz couldn’t handle any

of it, overcome by anxiety, having trouble focusing on what he was

saying. She wanted one thing, and that was for him to take us back home

to safety. All of us.

The Mysterious Wonders park was the good side of Halloween and the

JJ BW park was the heart of it.

Individual halloweens crept quietly out of the dark buildings, and

cursed their doors. They didn’t look at us once, slipping back in as we

got closer.

Hess spotted a crowsk scarecrow and followed him through the streets.

The straw halloween felt our presence and turned back around to look at

us, but he kept on strolling slowly as we caught up. His face was half

hidden behind the brim of his large hat.

“Do you know how to get to the Jack O’ Dome?” asked Hess. “They

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have changed the roads since I was last here.”

“I do,” said the halloween mysteriously. “You can follow me.”

“Thank you.”

“Darker days, darker days,” he maundered, walking as if on stilts. He

looked to be wandering aimlessly, and soon I started to wonder if that

was indeed the case. But nobody was saying anything, so I kept quiet.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

’

We followed the crowsk scarecrow in silence. I soon figured it out. He

was using the glass jack-o’-lanterns set out on doorsteps as his

navigation points. We were definitely moving in the right direction,

getting much closer. The crowd was growing louder and louder, and the

ground shook a bit.

“You are late,” said the crowsk, folding back his hat’s brim and

looking at us curiously, revealing Asiatic features and a bald head

covered with tattoos. “You might have trouble finding seats.”

“We have reserved seats,” said Hess.

“You are a melkian, aren’t you? You were the one to compete in the

finals?”

“Yes.”

“Who signed the Beneficiary Contract?”

“Jesse. . . . The biffle warlock.”

The crowsk looked over to me and then bowed his head. “I wish you

luck. This Jake is a devious and powerful creature.”

“Do you know Jake?” said Hess.

“I do not know him personally, but I have seen him around.”

The drum beat was so loud that it was getting hard to hear our own

voices. The stadium must have been on the other side of the building,

and as we turned the next block the giant walls rose in front of our eyes,

so tall that we had to tilt our heads all the way up to see the top. Orange

lights threw hard beams from circular alcoves at the top, and hundred-

foot-tall halloween statues towered along the walls. One particularly

scary statue was a black tortic with long droopy ears and a menacing

leer.

We quickly walked along the wall that was covered with ancient

writing. At some point the crowsk had disappeared, and Hess and Peter

were now leading the pack. They stopped at a two-story archway

guarded by a hooded ghoul in a blue cloak. All I could see of him was

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two green eyes and trails of green smoke drifting from under the hood.

The green ghoul pointed further down the stadium, sweeping the

ground with his wide sleeve, and we all continued in that direction. But

the ghoul stopped me with an invisible stomach tug and pointed at the

archway. Feeling as though a hand had gripped my insides, I froze and

stared queasily in the direction he was pointing.

“Jacoby!” called Katie, alarmed.

Everyone hurried back to us.

“I guess this is your entry,” said Jacoby. “We’ll be up in the second

row.”

“Jesse, you call me if you need anything,” Katie wavered, unsure if she

should hug me. “Alright?”

“Alright,” I nodded.

Katie gave me a big hug. As she was letting go, I thought for a

dizzying moment that she was going to kiss me. I sighed, both

disappointed and relieved, when she didn’t. I might have fainted if she

did.

“Jesse, you teach that Jake turd a lesson,” Lin wedged in. “You need

anything, don’t call me. I won’t come to help you.”

I grinned, still looking at Katie. Jacoby walked up to me.

“You’ll be alright,” he said. And that was it. But, for some reason, I

was comforted by it. He stepped back to let Soundrec and Franky shake

my hand.

“Punch him hard, Jesse!” said Nick, scrambling up to his tiptoes

behind my giant friends. “Punch him really–”

His voice was cut off by a thunderous boom inside. The crowd

CHEERED.

“Time to let him go,” said Jacoby.

Peter and Ray quickly shook my hand.

“Focus on the rivolion,” reminded Peter.

Duma gaped at me like he had been gaping at everything and everyone

all night. He didn’t seem to like the Halloween world. Jacoby seemed to

be waiting for me to move. I couldn’t move. I was a nervous wreck,

numb from head to toe, scared and sweating, unable to be separated from

my friends and family.

I heard Hess and Peter whispering that it was the spiders. I winced,

fighting a sudden sharp migraine. Memories were surging back, starting

with the one of Hess training me in Greenland.

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“. . . You may have the spiders. . . .”

The flashing images paused on a year-old memory of my spider curse

coiling on one of Bounded Field’s fences in Kilkenny, Ireland. The death

of the spider was so real and vivid. White spots faded on his abdomen.

His spindly legs shriveled. The curse was dead.

A voiceover played over the scene. The voices were mine and Quil’s.

“Did you know Katie before that?” my voice faded.

“Yeah. She is on every page of all our textbooks.”

“Every page?”

Oz approached me, concerned.

“Give me a moment,” I said, watching words from another time and

place form on a black stone surface right before my eyes.

<it is the evidence of Katie being a Descendant that

makes her knowledge about Halloween fact> <she knows more

about our history than we do> <even though she learned our

history through Halloween stories, she holds the true

knowledge>

<when he finds out what she knows, he will kill her>

<it is time for war, Jesse>

<the Hollowk Ottagga War>

Tears were streaming down my face. Oz stayed back with Jacoby,

looking stunned.

“Jesse, what’s going on?” said Jacoby.

“Jess?” said Oz, beginning to weep herself.

“Just the spiders,” I told them.

“Spiders don’t do that to you,” stated Lin, puzzled. “Spiders make you

woozy. Jacoby, what’s the Hollowk Ottagga War?”

“Jesse,” Jacoby insisted, “your vision was materialized before us. We

all saw it. You need to explain this.”

How was it possible that my memory conveyed itself to the others?

297

“Hollowks are going to attack Jack,” I answered vacantly, never taking

my eyes off Katie. Her brown skin went pale, and her breathing

quickened.

“I brought you back,” I told her, trying to make sense of things. “Jack

let you go–”

The ghoul growled and smoke came out of the long swaying sleeves of

his cloak.

“That means you better hurry,” said Peter.

I wasn’t going anywhere. I was going to stay with Katie.

The ominous ghoul now hovered right behind me, emitting more

smoke. A wisp of smoke touched my skin, and I jumped back as it singed

me. The cloud of smoke forced me inside the passage. The archway

doors closed behind me before I could take a last look at Katie. But at

this point it dawned on me that I didn’t have to worry. She wasn’t going

to be killed. What I did know about the memory was that it dated back to

the time before she was kidnapped. So it must have been referring to the

kidnapping. Yet, Jack decided not to kill her. But I did want to say

goodbye to her before going in. Crapper!

The drifting smoke, blazing bright like a sunset sky, illuminated the

way for the ghoul and me.

A booming chant shook the air around us.

“TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! . . .”

It was so loud, I had to cover my ears. The noise came from carved

jack-o’-lantern faces in the wall.

“TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! . . .”

The ghoul waited for me to move down the sloped tunnel. I hesitated at

first. As soon as I took my first step, the ghoul psyclined, leaving me to

scuffle down by myself through the darkness. The roar of the crowd

grew quieter. The next thing I knew, I couldn’t hear a thing. The

vibrations died down, too.

Jack-o’-lanterns were spinning slowly inside the mouths of melflin

statues lining both walls. The light filtering from the jack-o’-lanterns was

dim, barely enough to make it from one statue to the next without

missing my step.

As I approached the next set of statues, I realized they weren’t

melflins. Neither were they statues. Lining the walls were actual hooded

ghouls puffing out smoke, which rolled over the floor and lit my

footsteps. The thin fabric of their cloaks rippled. I quickly picked up the

298

pace and strode past them, all the while staying inside the lingering cloud

of green smoke, the sole source of light.

The cloud of smoke began to shrink and drift upward. It gave out a

faint cry and formed itself into a translucent green ghoul, shrouded in a

blue cloak that hid his features. The ghoul floated ahead of me, leading

the way, taking many right turns as we moved from one tunnel into the

next.

The ghoul halted in a misty cold corridor, waiting for me to catch up,

and then headed left. The air had gotten a lot damper.

Halfway down the curving corridor the ghoul parked itself opposite of

another ghoul. I had to walk the rest on my own, making my way toward

a source of dim light coming from a room at the end of the corridor. The

mysterious crowsk from before was standing at a black coffin-shaped

table that stood in the center of the room. As soon as he saw me, he got

up and shambled off, crouching through a small doorway.

A minacious ghoul waited for me at the front door, looking ready to

strike me at the first false move.

“Hey!” I called out to the crowsk, running after him. I didn’t get

further than the table, being seized by the ribcage.

The ghoul hadn’t moved.

“What do I do now?” I asked the ghoul. He said nothing as I watched

smoke seep out of his sleeves and loom over to the coffin table. It had a

glass plaque set into the wooden top. I walked up and read it.

I, Jesse Jayden, have thoroughly read and understood THE code OF magic. I

have consulted the hanalin ghoul concerning any and all uncertainties. I have

studied the rules of the finals for the Games of Jack Ottaggaemenel and

understand that penalties will apply and be administered if the rules are

violated. I hereby sign my will of ownership to the SGC and understand that

injuries will not be treated until the game is over. The game will not be

postponed or cancelled for any reason, except the violation of the rules.

____________________________________________________

Jesse Jayden

HD 2447

Date

I went over to the wall that bore the inscription:

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THE code OF magic

The final game is over if there is use of the following magic:

Forsili - body control

Bellnicsi - sound loss (extreme magic)

All other magic is authorized for usage

“What?” I exclaimed bitterly. “Those are all the restrictions?”

I searched the walls in vain for something that would say that the game

will be immediately stopped if there was torture or foul play. But there

was nothing.

“There are no rules then,” I confronted the ghoul. “You’re telling me

that he is allowed to cast a one-hundred percent binlisac on me? . . . Why

aren’t you answering? I have an enquiry!”

Green smoke drifted over to a wall imprinted with a massive list of

magic names.

non-extreme magic that may be of use inside the boundaries of the

stadium

111 Ugo

112 Masme

113 Scerion

114 Binlisac

115 Endosac

116 Treeplex

And that was the answer to my question. I soon gave up, seeing that

protesting would be useless, and signed the contract. I crossed the room

cautiously, hoping I was free to go this time, and slowly exited, stooping

to fit through the small door.

The next room was a plain tiled space with one shower stall and yet

another ghoul standing guard.

I walked into the black-powdered shower. “Now what? Do I have to

take a shower? There’s no knob.”

The ghoul was as lifeless as the last one. I was tempted to look into the

hood and see if there was anything in there, aside from the smoke, but

300

thought better of it. After I spent ten minutes stepping in and out of the

stall, which was what a drifting cloud of smoke seemed to guide me to

do, it finally occurred to me what it was getting at. I waited for another

ten minutes, just in case, and then went to peek into the corridor to make

sure no one was coming.

“Okay,” I sighed, and began stripping, keeping a close eye on the

ghoul.

I was now standing in my dinosaur boxers. Nothing happened. I

exhaled a weary sigh, took a long look at the ghoul, and then dropped my

boxers. First, I was doused with freezing black-powder, and then hosed

with tons of icy water. I was then magically fanned dry within seconds.

I quickly dressed and stepped out, waiting for further instructions.

There were no doors or passages, except the one I came in through. I

started walking towards the corridor, but was stopped by another rib tug.

“Where do I go?” I said patiently. I just wanted to move on, ready to be

done with the preparations. “Do I wait here?”

The ghoul didn’t budge. The smoke slithered and twirled with no

detectible pattern or purpose.

“Fine,” I said, “I’m just going to walk around.”

I paced back and forth for a bit. That got old. I picked at a wall

absentmindedly, and the room was suddenly filled with halloween

portraits. I stumbled back, and the room went back to the way it was

before. I stepped towards the wall, and then back, over and over,

watching the room transform back and forth.

“Okay,” I said, now knowing what to make of it, and walked forward

into the picture room. The halloweens in the portraits were either

scowling or expressionless. The room was furnished with a sofa

decorated with white and black beads, a stepping stool, and a couch with

two skeletis bones leaning against it.

Tired, I sat on the stool. A glowing ball appeared in front of me and

snapped a series of pictures in rapid succession. I barely managed to

compose myself by the time the last shot went off, staring into the ball

with a blank expression.

“Alright. Next,” I said, searching the room for clues. This time it was a

jack-o’-lantern spinning in the air. “What?” I asked it when it froze in

front of me.

It repeated the signal as a hatch opened in the wall. The jack-o’-lantern

glowed more brightly and flew inside.

301

“Alright.” I said, following it into a claustrophobically small tunnel.

Then, the jack-o’-lantern fell. I carefully stepped over the glowing skin

of the smashed pumpkin and stepped into a narrow room, following a

long black carpet to the back. The spongy carpet had candy names

stamped all over it. I read some of the candy names as I walked across.

Apple Cakes Chewy Hats Chunks Bar Love

White Omen Corner Coffins

Badeck’s Scream Bits Flu-Bird Candy

Gummy Gravediggers Ghostly Ghost Hurts Freezes

BED AWAKES Veil Bites Cinnamon Rollers

Strawberry Dead Beets Mint-Slimals Almond Bundles

Brain Freeze Candy Corn Brainaches

Carmel Chunky Mini-Cauldrons Fake Outs

Peppermint Spice Flabby Cream Sour Teeth

Flanked by gothic lampposts on both sides, the carpet led to a table

presided over by a redian vampire with red hair, red eyes, and brown

skin, and a translucent cape that clung around his scraggly figure.

I walked straight to an open chair and sat down, never taking my eyes

off him. He had his name stitched on the right side of his cape.

Skip Ripper Wandering Lost

Africa Festival

“I am Skip Ripper, a Wandering Lost announcer and festival

broadcaster,” started the redian vampire on the other end. “I will be your

pre-game interviewer. Jesse Jayden is it?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I have questions and you have answers I assume. Make them short.

We only last days, not years. This interview may additionally be

published in CryGrowl Magazine and Yikes Articles. I’ve been told the

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game will be postponed if you choose not to answer these questions.

First question: What do you like to scare?”

I was stumped. What? What kind of question was that? There was

nothing I liked scaring.

“I understand. Next question, Jesse: are you scared of Jake the Irish

record-breaker?”

I didn’t feel like answering the question. Just being reminded of Jake

was making me queasy.

“Yes, got it. Jesse, how many days old are you?”

What was he up to? I wasn’t answering his questions, yet he was

moving along unfazed. Now he wanted to ask me how old I was as a

halloween? How would I lie about that?

“You don’t know when you entered?” said Skip Ripper, confused.

“Just speak from your Hallow’s soul. When did you enter?”

“I’m five days old,” I lied reluctantly.

“Jesse, lying does us no good. I want drama, not made-up inanities.”

“Fifteen.”

“Good, you’re fifteen days old. Human age?”

“Fifteen,” I said, hoping he would move on to the next question.

“What was it like in Morocco in 2445?”

“I hated it. All I wanted was to get Meesi out.”

“Who is your best friend? Who is your worst friend? And who is not

your friend?”

“Katie. . . . I don't have a worst friend. And Jack is not my friend.”

“Who is your halloween role model?”

Uhmm . . . was it really . . .

“Jacoby?” questioned Skip. “Jacoby is your role model?”

“He was,” I stated, more surprised that I would think of Jacoby as my

role model than the fact that Skip could read my mind.

“Common question: if you could change one thing about yourself,

what would it be?”

This one was easy. “My temper.”

“Next, a one-sentence description of yourself.”

Uhmm . . . “A confused soul.”

“A one-sentence description of someone you love.”

“Is everyone going to read this?”

“No. Your answer?”

“Life-changing beauty.”

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“Favorite samhain song?”

“A Scary Shadow.”

“Name something that hurts?”

“Hugs.”

He looked at me strangely, and then asked, “Name two Jical’s magic

you possess? Maybe something you used on Jack to escape.”

“Uhmm . . . the rivolion and a photographic memory–”

“You can summon the rivolion? I will make a donation to Die Early

Corporation for everytime you summon it.”

“How many more questions, Skip? What is the point of this?”

“Halloweens like to know who they are looking at. I have a few more

questions. You have surrounded yourself with the most prominent

halloweens. You hang out with Katie, a welchick, who looks like a

wilarchike, and was listed as number two in Halloween’s Most Beautiful

just one hour ago.” He showed me the first two pages of the magazine.

“There is Dorian, Jacoby, Henry Frankenstein. Is the Broken Doll Media

correct in naming Soundrec and Shreek as the latest additions?”

“Yes.”

“You are just the luckiest bat. Do you only run with the most popular

halloweens?”

“No. I chose them because they’re good friends.”

“What about the melflin? His fame is questionable. Is he paying you

for the privilege of your company?”

“Lin is one of my best friends.”

Skip Ripper stared, and I glowered right back at him.

“I guess that’s true. The most burning question: are you dating a

halloween?”

A halloween? No. Crapper! Don’t give him a clue. I shook my head.

“That will boost the ratings,” Skip Ripper smiled. “I wish you luck,

Jesse. I hope the crown is yours.”

Skip Ripper stood up, his chair sliding back into place, and walked out

through a nearby door.

I quickly walked out of the room and found myself in a hallway with

two cages across from each other. A ghoul was hovering by an opened

cage. I walked in. The ghoul disappeared just as the door closed behind

me.

The other cage contained the crowsk. He was sitting against the back

wall with his face covered by his hat. I knew immediately: this was Jake.

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He had disguised himself as a crowsk.

I faltered back into the wall, knocking a loose brick out of the wall. It

shattered like glass when it hit the floor, the noise shooting chills down

my spine.

“I don’t want to do this,” I muttered to myself, cowering in the corner,

not daring to look back into the opposite cell. “I don’t want to do this…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Crapper!” said Katie as she and Lin strode down the inner corridors of

the stadium, passing endless beverage and candy stands packed with

halloweens. She hated this place.

Oz had been crying for the last half hour after Lin’s character swings

had made him brutally honest. He’d been shouting at her that Jesse

would either be killed in the Finals or die soon after from his wounds.

Katie couldn’t take it anymore and went roaming around the huge

place. She was sweating and wondering if she was coming down with

something. She spat into a trash cauldron.

Thankfully, Lin was back to normal. “Katie, let’s go buy a Juju Jesse

Figurine,” he said, pulling at her arm. “You going to throw up?”

Katie shook her head as she spotted a group of Kenyan witches in silky

garments coming her way. They had the same Jesse wristbands as Katie.

“Jack’s Pamphlet says Jesse is single, but I see with me eyes that

you’re with him,” said one of the witches, gesturing frantically to a shy

female mummy to come over. “Katie, are you with him? I would like to

have Jesse for myself. I like Jesse because he has the courage to fight

Jake.”

This witch wasn’t going to have Jesse. Stupid.

“Katie, she’s challenging you,” whispered Lin. “You have to face the

challenge, or you’ll lose. You have to tell her why you like him. Your

answers are judged by this . . . stinky mummy.”

“Katie, you aren’t answering? Then I win.”

“I . . .” Katie thought, knowing that, no matter what, this witch wasn’t

going to get Jesse. “He’s funny,” she said.

The witch quickly turned to the mummy who was pointing a brittle

brown nail at Katie.

The witch scowled. “Well, I like Jesse because he has red and orange

hair. Like mine.”

Katie was getting impatient with this stupid game.

“Katie, you have to,” said Lin, sensing her mood.

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“He thinks about me,” she said.

The mummy pointed at Katie again.

“Two to zero, broomy,” yipped Lin, doing a funny little hop.

“I,” the witch snarled, “I like Jesse because he is taller than me.”

“Just two more wins, Katie,” said Lin. He squeezed her hand.

“He comes to me,” she said.

Katie won this one as well.

“Come on, mummy! Why should she win all the time? My reasons are

good! . . . I like Jesse because he is famous.”

Katie was going to walk away, but she decided to say one more thing.

“Jesse saved my life four years ago. He saved my life two years ago and

he saved me this year.”

Confused by Katie’s counter, the mummy still pointed at her. “Jesse’s

fulfilled the human vows of sacred love,” the mummy mumbled in fear.

“He can’t do that.”

“For your information, Jesse really likes her,” proclaimed Lin to the

witch.

“He didn’t say that,” retorted a tall witch.

“Yeeaaah, he did, broomy. He blushes around her a lot – You can’t

beat my friend Katie. She never loses–”

Lin had another personality switch, suddenly bent on ripping apart

everything in his path, especially trash cauldrons and candy wrappers.

The witches hurriedly mounted their brooms and flew away.

Katie quietly waited for Lin to change back to normal. When he did,

they circled the stadium a second time, stopping at trash cauldrons

whenever she felt she was going to throw up. Lin vomited in reaction to

her gagging.

Katie stopped to look at a poster of Jesse. He had no expression.

“Katie, you’ve got to get out of the way,” said Lin, nudging her to the

side so she wouldn’t get trampled by passing halloweens.

Katie just stared blankly.

A small group of young goblins marched by and chanted, “Jesse’s

dead.” She overheard someone say that Jake would Binlisac Jesse to

death. Another group was laughing, making up rude names for Jesse.

Katie followed Lin for a little. She needed something to take her mind

off of Jesse for at least a moment.

“Jesse, read all about him!” shouted a pretty brunette gremlin. “Jesse is

on the market! Single, handsome, and scary!”

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Katie slid down the wall and tucked her face into her knees.

“Katie, what are you doing?” asked Lin. “Tired? Me too. Yeah, let’s

just sit here.”

The stupid electronic voice came on.

“Hello, joyous halloweens! Jesse Jayden has just been put into the

dungeon. It’s getting close to showtime! The biggest fright of the day is

coming in just forty minutes. Better get to your seats. A estimate number

of two thousand and four halloweens have sneaked in during the past

hour. That means two thousand ticket holders could be left standing. The

coin toss is minutes away. I’m rooting for Jesse. To all the skeptics out

there – all 195, 104 of you – I say: do you know what Jical’s magic he

possesses?”

Many halloweens stopped and listened.

“He can summon the rivolion. This dramatically raises his chances…”

Katie covered her ears and closed her eyes.

“Katie, you okay?” Oz kneeled by her.

Katie shook her head.

Oz gently lifted Katie’s face and mopped up the sweat. “Peter just won

a free ticket to speak with any of the competitors down below. He gave it

to me. Would you like to have it? I think he would like you down there

with him.”

Katie saw that Oz really wanted to go. Her hands were trembling, and

she was going to cry again. Katie shook her head.

“You – you sure?” stammered Oz. Katie didn’t respond this time.

“Jacoby said he–”

“Jacoby can’t do anything,” muttered Katie. “He won’t be able to help

Jesse if he needs it.”

“If he doesn’t, I will. I won’t let them hurt my baby.”

“I don’t want him to compete.” Katie was going to cry. She tried

holding back the tears. It was hard, so she just let it out. Crapper!

Some vicious witches soared by on their brooms. Two struck Katie’s

ear with a paint ball of blue gunk. Oz pulled Katie and Lin toward her,

shielding them from the witches who kept zooming by. Meanwhile,

Katie was able to hear a conversation between two warlocks taking place

far away in the aisles.

“Jake has extreme magic.”

“What do you think he will conjure?”

“I bet many scary things. Come, let’s get back to our seats. Jesse will

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be lucky to last even twenty seconds.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was slumped in the corner, sweaty, filthy, and smelly. Gnats were

clinging to my wet skin and tiny spiders were crawling all over the place.

I didn’t care because I had done something demeaning. It was an old fear

that had come true.

I wiped my nose and hung my head. I had been crying for the last half

hour. My congested nose hurt to breathe through.

“Jess?” a teary voice rang out from somewhere. “Baby, you okay?”

I looked up; Oz was clinging to the bars. I didn’t move. I shook my

head and dropped it again.

“Jess, please, come,” she cried

“I don’t want to play anymore,” I murmured, bringing up my wet face.

“Baby, come here, I want you close,” she sniffled.

I shook my head.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to see.”

“See what?”

“I . . . just want to stay here.”

Oz was quiet for a moment. “Baby, I don’t care about that,” she said,

spotting the wet spot. “No one will laugh. It’s just you and me. Come

here.”

I stood up in my stained robe, and shuffled over to her. She reached

through the bars and grabbed my shaky hand. She looked like she had

been crying since I left her.

“You don’t worry about that,” she said, not once looking down at my

soiled clothes.

“I don’t want to play,” I mumbled. “Tell them I’ll return to the Haunt

House. I’ll do anything. . . .”

“Jess, listen. He’s not going to hurt you. You got that?” She squeezed

my hand. “You got that? I’m your mom and I will make sure of it.”

I pointed behind her. Jake was motionless, his black hat covering his

face.

“He heard,” I murmured, worried. “He heard, he heard–”

“Heard what?”

“He knows you’re my mom.”

She reached in and pushed some of the gnats off of my face. “You

think I care? I’m not hiding my love for you. You know what Katie told

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me?”

I shook my head.

“She said she would protect you with her life, the way I would.”

“I would do the same,” I cried.

“So I don’t care if he knows. You just hold on. You pluck yourself

together and pick up those feet, okay? I will see you out there.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to. I was supposed to be here only for one minute.” She

managed a weak smile. “Jess, I want to see a smile. I won’t leave until I

see one.”

I didn’t smile.

“Jess, we’re all out there rooting for you.” She grabbed my other hand

through the bars. “You look for me and Katie and your father in the

second row of section A & E, okay?”

I nodded.

“Jess?”

I creased my lips as best I could.

Oz let go of my hands. “A & E,” she repeated. She marched over to the

other cage. “He’s fifteen years old. He’s just a boy. If you hurt him . . .”

Oz gathered her angry thoughts. “Do you understand me? If you hurt

him, I promise I will come after you. And so will Dorian. He wanted you

to know this.”

Jake didn’t move.

Oz exited using a ramp to my right, and I waddled back to my corner

crawling with gnats.

Minutes passed, which felt like hours. I was about to fall asleep when I

heard a coin drop in the middle of the dungeon.

A hooded ghoul was towering over the coin. He looked down at it, and

then psyclined. I heard the sound of Jake’s cage clinking open. Jake was

up on his feet, wiping some of the hay off of him. He stepped out and

peeked down at the coin indifferently. He smirked as he made his way up

the tunnel, shaking off the rest of the hay. His skin turned to human

flesh, and a dark robe rippled around him. He was bald with a full black

beard.

My bars slid open.

“No,” I murmured, shaking my head. I heard my own echo. “I don’t

want to play.”

I threw up and quickly rubbed the puke off of my robe as best I could.

309

I dragged my feet to the middle of the hallway and looked down at the

dusty gold coin.

Jesse Jayden plays Jack Ottaggaemenel

Jake plays samhain

I really didn’t think it mattered who I was playing. I forgot who did

what anyway. I looked over to my left and saw only one tunnel leading

out of the room, and it went down, not up. Where was the first tunnel, the

one through which Oz and Jake had exited? It was nowhere to be found.

There was a seamless wall where it used to be.

I left the dungeon, feeling sick as a dog, trudging down the

underground passage as if I was descending into hell. Passing piles of

jack-o’-lanterns lining the walls, I searched my mind for some

consolation.

The tunnel led to a dead end. Great. Had I missed a turn? No, that

wasn’t possible. I hadn’t seen any other way to go. I turned around. From

one moment to the next, all the jack-o’-lanterns were blown out by an

inside breeze. The ground shook with a clanking sound, and then

everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Streams of light were shooting over Katie’s head. She was sitting on

the ground in front of the safety railing in order to be as close as possible

to the game floor. Jacoby couldn’t stop her so everyone had moved

down.

Every seat was taken; and the two thousand viewers without seats

packed all the aisles and staircases.

The crowd was chanting the word “start,” while magical imagery

unfurled across the sky.

The cheering grew louder when tall ghouls appeared out of the exits,

gliding to their positions around the railing.

A spooky echo rolled through the stadium.

“Trick ooor treeeeat . . . . Triiiiick oooor treeeeaat!”

The crowd chanted along in unison, the entire stadium getting to their

feet.

“TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! . . .”

Nick started to cry.

310

Katie shut her eyes.

The chant just grew louder and louder.

“TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! . . .”

A door boomed opened, and Jake stepped out onto the black game

floor.

“Trick or treat – Jake, Jake, Jake . . . JAKE, JAKE, JAKE . . .”

Sparkling explosions detonated throughout the stadium. A minical

werewolf summoned a warlock hologram into the dark clouds, and it

exploded, showering the spectators with hologram bones, brooms,

cauldrons, pumpkins, and black cats.

Jake bowed to the crowd and then to the black-robed officials sitting in

the box seats.

TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK . . .

A large transparent clock appeared above the game floor as Jake faced

the door that Jesse was to come out of.

TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK . . .

15:59:03

Jacoby went over to Soundrec and Franky to talk privately. It wasn’t

long until the crowd started to clap with the ticks. The game was going to

start at 16:03.

TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK . . .

16:00:47

Katie felt out of breath. She looked around, feeling like she was going

to collapse.

“Jacoby?” panted Katie. “I c-can’t breathe!”

Jacoby put his hand around her throat, and she gradually caught her

breath. As she did, she looked at the others to see how they were coping.

They weren’t doing much better. Oz was muttering to herself. Nick clung

to Nail’s waist, deathly pale. Ray was sweating a lot, looking much older

and whiter than usual. Soundrec was throwing frantic glances at the

Night Watchers flying above the Jack O’ Dome. Franky and Hess both

looked nervous and glum. Duma was sitting still at Jacoby’s side,

yelping softly.

Katie looked up at the clock.

16:01:29

Katie took deep breaths. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” she

breathed.

The clapping drowned out the ticking.

311

WHOMP, WHOMP, WHOMP . . .

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay . . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The platform I was standing on was being slowly lowered. The air

shuddered with sounds of heavy strikes, as if a giant infernal blacksmith

was hard at work. Everything was still submerged in complete darkness.

WHOMP, WHOMP, WHOMP . . .

The intensity of the clapping was frightening. I lost balance and hit the

side wall, throwing my hands over my ears. I wasn’t ready.

The platform stopped. Light filtered in through the crevices of the

massive doors.

Oh my God! The descent had somehow magically brought me up to

the game floor. The anxiety spiders were plowing across my skin.

I put my eyes to one of the cracks, seeing a black floor patterned with

turnips and Sequoia trees.

“You’re okay, you’re okay . . .” I said to myself over and over again,

hearing a chant starting, which turned into a deafening roar.

“TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT!

TRICK OR TREAT! . . .”

I jammed myself into a corner, as if hoping to get away from the

horrible noise. There were three thuds at the doors, and then one by one,

the locks clanged and rattled, coming unlocked.

This was it. The end. There was nothing I could do. I just hoped to see

everyone one more time.

Only four locks remained.

“I’m not ready,” I said.

Jesse, said a voice inside my head, cutting through the roar. Jesse . . .

“Dorian?” I cried. “Y-You there?”

I am right beside you.

“I don’t want to play. Psyclin me out. Please.”

I cannot take you outside. The Dark Hours have come before its time.

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be here.”

Jesse, the halloween deaths have multiplied. We are to consider an

evacuation of the festival.

I couldn’t respond. There were two more locks left.

There’s been one thousand deaths. The halloween genocide–

“No, that can’t be!” I exclaimed. “Jacoby’s wrong. No one’s dying.”

The killer’s calling your name.

312

The last lock snapped open.

BOOM!

The large doors began to crank open. I stayed in the shadows. What

was happening? Was I really to compete in this deadly game?

I saw the empty game floor. “Dorian, I don’t know how to use magic,”

I stuttered.

I will veil the ugo all I can and remain at your side.

“Is Jacoby here? Is he going to do something?”

Jacoby’s waiting for your thoughts prior to any halloween evacuation.

And, Jesse–

“My thoughts? Who am I to decide? Why should this be up to me?”

Your memories have been meddled with. Jesse, the killer’s calling

Katie’s name.

“You just said he was calling mine – how do you know?”

Your names have turned into curses everywhere the murders occurred.

“And I must decide whether or not Katie and I go to the killer to save

the halloweens? We are going to have to sacrifice our lives for their

lives?”

No. The deaths cannot to be stopped.

An unseen force struck my side, and I was flung out onto the hard

surface. The crowd went crazy.

“Dorian?” I cried, seeing blood on my elbows and knees. “Dorian?”

Jake was standing all the way at the other end of the huge arena, doing

nothing. Okay, where was A& E? Where were they? . . . There it was . . .

but hollering halloweens were in their seats.

I turned to Jake, who was striding towards me. I fell back.

“JAKE! JAKE! JAKE! JAKE! JAKE! . . .”

Katie’s voice rang through the air.

“Jesse!”

I quickly looked to where it came from. She was leaning over the bars,

and everyone was there with her. She seemed okay. I smiled. She was the

best thing in the world. She was my . . . she was my . . .

I went blank. Memories started pouring through me . . .

<we are under Core K. P., where first war tactics will be

set forth>

313

<this will be the first line of attack>

<this is also where we will release Leonard Gibbly>

<you have a powerful friend>

R Y - Chief Katie Commander P-Pel Low P. <advises General or Lieutenant General on any

essential or nonessential news involving Descendant K.P.>

“Katie’s a Descendant of a human prophet.”

<when he finds out what she knows, he will kill her>

<this will be the last time you will see Katie alive,

“Dorian?” That was all I could mutter. I bent over and threw up.

Jake was getting much too close.

“Katie’s going to be sacrificed in the war! Dorian?”

Jesse, something’s changing. I could hear a frightened realization in

his voice. Jake’s not a quelix warlock . . .

Dorian’s voice slowed grotesquely, and everything around me started

drifting in slow motion.

Jesse, he knows I’m here. I must leave. . . .

The stadium and the crowd bent and melted, replaced by blackened

windows, glass mosaics, ornate pillars, glass lamps that stood two stories

tall, and Sequoia trees that were used like columns. The Halloween-

pervaded architecture was of the highest quality. The sky turned into a

vaulted ceiling painted lavishly with halloween motifs. I stood in a daze,

lost in the architectural marvel. The stadium was gone, except for some

muffled cheers bleeding through the temple walls. I could barely make

out two frenzied voices I knew so well.

“You’re killing my baby!” hollered Oz.

“Stop!” yelled Katie.

I even heard my own voice. “My . . . l-l-leg hurts.”

That brought about a throbbing sensation in my arm, not my leg.

A minute later, all stadium sounds ceased. The only sound came from a

howling wind sweeping across the temple and Jake’s footsteps

314

thundering across the tile floor. He stopped in the center of the room,

fixing me with an indignant stare.

“Who are you?” I said.

“I am a member of a religious organization of humans and halloweens,

seeking information on the Veil of Time and the birth of Halloween,” he

answered, standing inside a bright beam of light coming from directly

above him.

That wasn’t what I was looking for.

“And this is a one-room Halloween Temple built by unnamed Hindus

and halloweens in the days after the Veil. This is one of two gateways

into Bounded Field. You had the privilege to go there last year. Not

many have had the opportunity to walk the border of Halloween’s Secret

Veil.”

“And we are in . . .?” I said, cringing. My arm was still hurting.

“We are in Mumbai, India. . . . Let me heal that.”

I put out my right arm, and the pain went away instantly.

“A human and halloween,” he stated. A faint silhouette of some

obscured object soared between us. “Jacoby, is it? The one you hang

around a lot?”

“What do you want?” I asked, breathing heavily.

“Your mother is a human, and Jacoby is a halloween,” he continued,

ignoring my interjection. “And the one you stay close to, Katie, is a

descendant of a prophet. You do have one extraordinary entourage.”

His warlock cape melted, replaced by an orange robe. His facial hair

vanished.

“What are you doing?” I asked nervously, seeing in him some

resemblance to Dorian.

He put his black hat back on. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint my fans,

would I? I’m here to win.”

“You’re corrupting the halloween government. I know exactly what

happened.”

“Let me hear it,” he said, interested. “I would like to hear what it is you

think you know.”

“You didn’t give Forlin a chance. You knew he would have won

otherwise. You rigged the whole thing, appointing yourself the head of

the government. You stole his Halloween life’s work.”

“Jesse, I will make a Rule against the killing of a halloween child,” he

said, imperiously switching the subject.

315

“If what?”

“If you become the SGC’s Keeper of Defense.”

“Take me back. I must go back now.”

“Jesse, I’m offering you the chance of a lifetime.”

“I don’t want it. I already have everything I want.”

“Decide wisely, or–”

“You want me because I live outside Halloween,” I retorted. “So I can

carry out your will throughout the year while your own existence is on

hold.”

A smug-smile spread across his face. “Jesse, decide. In less than three

hours, Jack will be dead. I will be the emperor of Halloween.”

“There is going to be a war?” I said, pondering. “That’s the reason for

all the deaths? But . . .”

My left leg was pierced by some sharp object. I grimaced in pain, but

continued. “I know that Katie’s important in this war. But why? Jack

already took her.”

“Jesse, have you come to a decision? Will you or will you not become

my ally?”

“No.”

“If that is your decision, I will kill every one of your celebrity friends,

your parents, the descendant–”

“Please take me back. I need to go back to them,” I muttered dumbly,

grimacing again.

“You’re bleeding.”

I lifted my robe and saw that my pain-afflicted leg was unscathed.

There was no blood, but it hurt as if a claw was slicing deeper and deeper

into it.

“I don’t understand,” I muttered. “I’m not bleeding.”

He peered at my birthmark on the same leg and then said, “You’re

bleeding on the game floor. Your magic capability is a human negative.

You must have taken after your–”

“What’s happening to me?” I cried out in agony. The pain was too

strong. “My leg’s . . . it hurts horribly!”

“You’re playing the game.”

A piercing scream tore out of my chest, and I collapsed onto the tiles.

“Right now, you’re challenging me around the arena. I’ve lend you the

magical ability to conjure animals. You have unleashed giant birds,

reptiles, a leopard, and now . . . a crocodile on me. The crowd is loving

316

it.” He focused on the remote events for a moment, looking displeased.

“They cheer for you.”

“I don’t understand. I’m in two places at once? Where in time and

space am I? I can’t be there playing you while I am here talking to you.”

He didn’t look like he was going to grace me with a response, but he

did. “Yes, it is possible.”

“Can I see?”

“See what? Us playing? But you’re standing in front of me. We are

playing.”

Jake held up his hand, and the searing pain in my back was gone. I was

about to say “thanks”, but caught myself.

“I don’t think we’re playing,” I said. “I think you froze time and the

game won’t start until I go back.”

“I will take you back,” said Jake, “just as soon as I inform the hana

ghouls that Becky Jayden is your mother and Katie is a human, thus

sentencing them to–”

“You can’t!”

“I will ask you one last time. Will you join me?”

I shuddered convulsively as I felt a hand reach under my ribs and

squeeze my heart.

“Jesse, you’re losing,” informed Jake.

A cut on my arm opened. “But we’re not at the–”

“What is your decision?” ordered Jake sternly.

I dropped to my knees, enduring the pain as much as I could, straining

not to faint. “You can’t kill them because . . .” I couldn’t think of a

reason. “Because . . . I know who you are.”

“Tokuma Kimura?”

“Yes!”

“Do you think that can save you?”

“No . . . that’s not all. You’re the Japanese twin–”

“Japanese and Chinese,” he corrected.

Like that mattered! “If you kill anyone, I will blurt out to the whole

stadium you’re the twin de-moan demons.”

“You don’t know–”

“One of the first things I learned about Halloween was the story of

powerful halloweens. And two of them were demons. Also, I know no

warlock has made it to the Jack O’ Games finals or dared to replace an

injured finalist—” Another surge of pain shot up my leg. “Stop! What

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are you doing?”

“You mean what am I doing on the floor?” he said. “I’m not doing

much. . . . Katie and your mother have just interfered. Katie is . . .

jumping the railing to save your life,” he commented cooly and as

though he was watching it right before his eyes. “She has been captured.”

Jake muttered something in Chinese or Japanese. I couldn’t tell.

“Dorian is letting the ghouls take Katie away.”

“Now?” I panted, beside myself.

“Your mother, with some of your friends, also tried to help you. Now

the ghouls await my orders. My orders will be death without trial.”

“I’ll do it,” I sobbed. “I’ll join your government. Please release them.”

The glass and stone tiles trembled while his beard grew back and his

heavy robe gave way to the silky warlock getup.

Loud growling, cheering, and drums shook and shattered the

foundation of the shrine. Gone were the mosaic windows, the giant

lamps, and the painted ceiling. I was back on the black game floor,

panting wildly and clutching my bleeding arm. My face was covered in

sweat and grime, and my legs were bruised and badly scraped.

“Jesse, run to the far end!” said Jacoby at the safety bar high above.

Katie and Oz were nowhere to be seen. Neither did I see Soundrec,

Hess, Peter, and Lin.

“Where are Katie and Oz?” I said to myself when the crowd fell silent.

Everyone heard me.

“Jesse, you must run!” repeated Jacoby.

I couldn’t get up, all my strength had left my legs. “I can’t get up.”

“JESSE, JESSE, JESSE!” chanted the crowd. “JESSE, JESSE,

JESSE…”

I placed both of my shaky hands on the ground and pushed myself up,

moving away from Jake.

“TWENTY, NINETEEN, EIGHTEEN . . .” counted down the crowd.

Jake produced a clone of himself, and the clone picked me up and

psyclined me in front of the 10-foot-deep hole, grasping me in midair as

the countdown continued.

“. . . TEN, NINE, EIGHT . . .”

The crowd roared with delight.

I wiggled in his grip, but it was like a vice. There was no way out.

“. . . SIX, FIVE . . .”

“J-J-Jacoby,” I mumbled. I was crying. “Jake is a de-moan–”

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The crowd didn’t hear me, but Jacoby did and so did Jake.

Help me.

Jake made a psyclin jump to his clone and summoned a spell while he

remained in the air. “Esnir-dool tonocol nikat seerrecht . . .”

“ . . . THREE, TWO . . .”

“Moolu-sow teedal,” he ended.

I felt the toss, the echo of the hole, and the ROAR AND CHEER of the

crowd. However, I passed out before I hit the back of the hole.

I opened my eyes to the sound of whispers. I was strapped to a wooden

table. Unseen halloweens were talking in whispers behind a black curtain

at the foot of the bed. The place was filled with small cages, bottles,

crystals, cauldrons, and brooms. Tiny dead creatures and squeaky green

things floated inside jars on the shelves along my bed.

Jacoby came from around the curtain and rested his hand on mine.

“Hold on.”

“Jacoby!” I mouthed in panic, feeling a sharp pain moving about in the

heel of my foot. “I-I-I . . .”

“It’s important that you keep calm.”

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts–

“You mustn’t scream, or we can’t operate. Do you understand?”

“What – what do you mean you can’t–”

“Jesse, there are crowds of halloweens outside the shop. This is an

illegal surgery.”

He slipped behind the curtain.

“It’s irreversible,” whispered Franky’s voice. “If Jesse’s correct–”

“He is,” prompted Jacoby.

“De-moan demons have an oracular lahmin kelk, a foe-curse that can

only be countered by its maker.”

I heard another familiar voice.

“One minute left,” informed Murlie. “You want us to continue? . . .

Franky, steep a crias conspic . .”

Jacoby came back and placed a stick into my mouth.

“Bite down,” he said.

I shook my head.

“Jesse.”

I bit down, and he readjusted the stick to make sure it stayed in.

“Jake Kimura cursed you with an incurable curse,” he explained. “The

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longer it stays, the more damage it will do. We can’t allow it to travel up

your leg. Murlie and Franky are going to amputate your right foot.”

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The mental anguish and physical pain were almost too much to bear. I

prayed for all of this to end. But first I was going to have to suffer with

no anesthetics or Wikitch Welk Potion.

Murlie and Franky came out from behind the curtain like a pair of

medical nurses.

I writhed and wriggled frantically as Jacoby gave them the go-ahead.

“Bite down,” he told me.

I bit down and closed my eyes, half-wishing I were dead—

Jacoby held his hand over my throat, magically silencing my screams,

which would have otherwise been heard miles away. The pain was

indescribable.

“Four more seconds,” announced a voice behind the curtain.

I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going into cardiac arrest–

“Done,” said Franky.

The second he said it, the pain was gone.

Franky was helping Murlie untie the ropes. They were sweating like

crazy. She grabbed a cloth and wiped her forehead. I had never seen her

without her hat. She had dark green hair, a puckered face, and a black

and red eye. The welchick put on her witch hat and tucked her hair into

it.

“You’ll be able to walk,” said Jacoby, studying me. “You alright?”

I shook my head even though all the pain was gone.

“You won by two-tenths of a second,” he said.

“Is my foot . . .”

“Murlie made you a new foot,” he explained as Murlie and Franky

walked up behind Jacoby. “Thank you, Murlie and Henry.”

Franky closed his eyes, and Murlie psyclined him away.

“Where are they going?”

“They can’t risk being caught performing magical procedures or they’d

be sentenced to death.”

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“Tell them I said thank you.”

“They know you’re grateful. I want you to get up to see how it feels. It

shouldn’t be that tender. Henry tripled the dosage of Exelbs – it’s an

analgesic.”

Jacoby didn’t help me to my feet. My leg was stiff, but I was able to

get up without much difficulty. I lifted my robe; the boot was covering

my new foot, so I couldn’t tell what it looked like, but my entire leg was

purple.

“Is it going to hurt if I pull off my boot?” I asked.

“It shouldn’t.”

I carefully took it off.

“You should gain feeling in your foot in a minute.”

Just moments later, I was wiggling my toes. It felt amazingly natural.

The foot looked normal, but was a little darker than my skin tone and

there was a scar around my ankle.

I limped across the room. “I’m not walking right,” I said worriedly.

“That might be something for you to learn to live with and manage as

best as you can. There’s nothing we can do about that. Are you alright?”

I nodded, bitterly hating the foot.

“I’m going to let in a fan of yours,” said Jacoby. “He’s a rare skool

skeletis, rating as the fifth darkest halloween in modern Halloween. He’s

been waiting outside. He is dangerous. We are to be humble and

submissive. Are you ready?”

“Uh . . . okay.”

The red-boned skeletis didn’t need an invitation, promptly drifting

inside with a slow-motion psyclin. Everything about him, down to his

dark robe, was menacing. His eyes were lifeless red sockets. He was all

skeleton, no flesh.

“My name is Ronald Bass,” he introduced in a cavernous voice,

offering me his blackened phalanges. “Could you hold the hand of the

halloweens?”

What did this mean?

He kept his hand out.

I shook it. His bones were cold and smooth. It was like holding

polished pebbles. Before he let go, he bowed his skull ceremoniously.

“High respect, biffle,” he said.

“Oh,” I said, not knowing how I had earned this honor. “Thanks,” I

added.

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“‘Life-changing beauty’ is a remarkable saying.”

He bowed to Jacoby, and then did a regular psyclin, vanishing

instantly.

I let this peculiar event sink in before I spoke to Jacoby. “Why did he

want to shake my hand?”

“It was to thank you on the behalf of all halloweens who saw the

match. By shaking his hand, you accepted their gratitude.”

“For what?”

“Somehow they all related to your mental condition.”

“Mental condition?”

“The grim side of a halloween – the dark impulses – and the struggle to

understand who we are or why we are here. Halloweens came to identify

with your inner turmoil as emblematic of the whole race.”

Jacoby knew what I was going to ask next. I didn’t have say it.

“Your psychiatric visit was first page of Jack’s Pamphlet. Every

stadium seat came with a two page excerpt.”

“So now every halloween knows my problems?”

“Everyone who was at the stadium. Jesse, this is the highest honor that

can be given to a halloween. There have only been three or four other

occurrences in Halloween’s life.”

“But I haven’t coped with my problems.”

“Jesse, I’ve just told you what you mean to them. Take it as you will.

We won’t speak of this anymore. I’m going to leave you here with

everyone. We’ve been told where Murky’s rampage may be heading.”

“Can I see Katie and Oz?”

“Yes. They don’t know about your foot.”

“I’m not going to tell them,” I said.

“That’s a good choice for now. But you will have to tell them

eventually. Dorian and I will leave you here as we go with the Night

Watchers.”

“Who’s Murky?”

“Murky Himalaya.”

Murky Himalaya? What? He couldn’t be still after us? “Dorian said he

was calling Katie’s name,” I mentioned.

“And yours.”

“You can’t go. He’ll kill you and Dorian.”

“Not with the Night Watchers and whatever SGC still remain.”

“What do you mean ‘still remain’?”

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“The de-moan demons fled after your announcement. Now listen

carefully, I’ve told Becky and Katie that Tokuma reversed the curse.

Soundrec and Shreek will escort you over to Lin’s. I don’t want you to

be seen at Murlie’s.”

Dorian psyclined inside. He was in Jacoby’s black T-shirt and brown

pants. “Very sorry, Jesse,” he said with a pained expression.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Ireland Festival first,” Jacoby told Dorian just before they psyclined.

They left two shining dots behind them. But what were Jacoby and

Dorian doing? Dorian said the deaths could not be stopped. What were

they up to then?

“Winner, are you in there?” shouted Lin, rushing in and running

around in circles, brandishing his knife.

“Hey, Lin,” I said.

“Come on, it’s time to celebrate! Party time at my place! . . . Looking

for someone? . . . Katie! Ozzie!”

Soundrec poked his head in and shuffled through the narrow doorway.

Katie and Oz were right behind him. Oz was the first one to hug me. I

think Katie deliberately let her go ahead of her.

“Was there really padding at the back of the hole?” she questioned

candidly while she examined my arms, neck, and face. “Soundrec said

there was.”

“Yes,” I lied. “The back was covered with big fluffy pillows.”

Katie usually laughed at my outlandish lies, but this time she didn’t

react, fully focused on getting her turn to hug me. Oz finally pulled

away, and Katie rushed over.

“You okay?” we both said at the same time.

“No more leaving,” she said with a half-glare.

“Your hair’s all tangled,” I pointed.

She pulled back and scratched the top of her head.

“Don’t make it worse.”

“I’m a witch, no?” she said.

“Yeah, but . . . what happened to it?”

“I don’t know. Some mummies kept shooting wind at me and calling

me number two.”

“Number two? . . .” I smiled, remembering. “They’re wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”

Like I was going to tell her.

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“Tell me or I’m going to sock you in the face,” she ordered.

“What?” I laughed.

She laughed, too.

Shreek peeked his head in. “Lin, Jacoby ordered us to take everyone to

your shop,” he reminded.

“Okay, Reek,” said Lin.

Oz and Katie stayed close to me as we headed out. Lin was on fire,

regaling everyone with nonstop charades. Katie never took her eyes off

of me.

“What?” I said finally.

She smiled. “Nothing.”

Duma was outside, hissing at Nick, but the second he saw me his eyes

bulged out.

“What’s up, Psycho,” I said as he hurried over, which was strange.

Stranger yet, he sat by my side, something he had only done with Jacoby.

“Jesse, you were limping,” said Katie.

“Just a little bruise on my leg,” I lied.

“No.”

“No?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I . . . I’ll tell you later,” I said quietly. “But I’m okay.”

“Okay. You did great out there with the lions and stuff. No one thought

you could use magic. I didn’t think . . .”

Katie paused, feeling the sudden change in the atmosphere. It was

different from a psyclin. The air became stale and musty, accompanied

by a foul smell, a bit like rotting pumpkin skins and old cheese . . .

actually, it was the smell of missal cheese. It was Kay’s Repel Shield.

Two lines of skeletasaltis walked up to us. They were tall, dark-boned,

with next to no skin, and oozing green gunk. They didn’t so much as

look at us, walking tall and facing straight ahead like model soldiers.

I overheard halloweens on the porch of their shops talking about going

to a fallout shelter, which was a place where mons mummies and

crowsks took cover during the Dark Hours to hide until the following

day. None of the shops had windows or lanterns. The street was

submerged in darkness.

The line turned inward to face us.

“We’ve been given orders to proceed,” announced a skeletasaltis with

glowing yellow eyes. He stared at Katie for a while. It was the same way

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that halloweens looked at Jacoby when they saw him for the first time, a

combination of reverence and humility mixed with a bit of incredulity.

“Take Descendant K.P. and Leonard Gibbly. The last three Descendants

are to be kept in a Refuge Zone outside of the boundaries. Chosen-H

Jesse J. is to come with us.”

Chosen-H Jesse J.? . . . Descendant K.P. . . .

The two-day gap in my memory from a year ago started to quickly fill

itself in. Thousands of images flashed and momentarily froze before my

mind’s eye, coming and going under my full control. I shuffled through

the memories, pausing and taking a closer look at some of them. I saw

everything: my journey down to the fourth Secret Veil, my stay with

Quil and Kay, Quil’s school, Battlefield Hollowk, and especially General

Heloe’s fateful etabpry stating I was not to recall a name, a color or an

inscription on the wall after the cast of his memory spell.

This was my magic; I had the key to unlock any hidden memory. I

could remember anything I wanted to. Was it possible that I could jog

my memory back as far as my birth? . . .

The rewind was like a hammer to the head, as I went straight to my

birth. The scene was of a place of peace, crashing waves, a cold ocean

breeze, dark skies glittering with stars, and two huddled bodies. . . .

Nothing more. Was I not born at a–

“Jesse, why you daydreaming now?” Katie snapped me out of my

thoughts.

A tall skeletasaltis psyclined Katie and Lin out of sight, and then

himself. Two more Hollowks psyclined Ray, Nail and Nick away.

Heloe appeared in front of me. The Hollowks saluted him by glowing

their eyes orange. He looked down at the ground as Quil’s father placed

two long phalange hands over Soundrec’s and Shreek’s heads. Their

wings folded around them, and they were both flattened against the floor.

Two skeletasaltis, soaked in Repel Shield, towered over Oz and Duma.

Heloe made a gurgling sound at me. I looked down at the road.

<close your eyes or I will order Captain-S Oso R. to put

them all down>

I glanced at the Night Watchers sprawled lifeless on the ground, and

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then at Oz and Duma. I wasn’t about to let them suffer for my mistake.

I opened my eyes inside a dirt tunnel.

“Where are you taking Katie?” I demanded.

Heloe etabpried on the wall.

<you did your job well> <we wait here>

“Take me to Katie, Heloe.”

<you remember me?>

I wasn’t going to answer him. He continued carving into the wood.

<we are under her house> <we will not move until Chief K.

Commander P-Pel Low P. finds what is needed>

“Take me to Katie,” I repeated, raising my voice.

There was a long silence as Heloe sat down.

<you should sit down> <it may be hours>

I sat down only because my new foot was aching. “Is everyone okay?”

<yes>

“Katie?”

<yes>

“Oz? . . . Duma? . . . Lin?”

<do you know Leonard’s fate?>

“Yes, but . . . but Lin might not be able to kill Jack. What if it doesn’t

work? Then Lin will be killed.”

327

<you think the way your father does> <you should not

doubt yourself but instead remember that your first

instinct is usually the right one>

“Jacoby won’t change Lin for you,” I said. “I know he won’t.”

<did you know using Leonard was Jacoby’s idea to begin

with?>

“But he changed his mind?”

<the second he met him>

“Then Jacoby won’t change Lin for you now.”

<Lin’s mother will be the one who will change her son

into a killer>

“You have never been in the presence of Jack! We’re in his world, not

the other way around! The choice is his! We have no say!”

Frightened by my own thoughts, I couldn’t go on. Nothing happened

for the next few minutes. The tunnel felt damp and muddy.

I shifted around uneasily.

“What are we waiting for?”

<information on the location J.S. Halloween’s tomb>

<something we thought Katie knew about>

“Is that why Jack let her go?”

<I assume you remember the Address of the Eyes>

“I’m not going to blink my eyes before I speak. . . . But I will if you

take me to Katie.”

<why should I grant you any favors?> <you will never give

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up your job>

“What job?” I said. He didn’t answer. I blinked twice.

<being alive> <she cannot live without you>

“See? You said I had no purpose. But that’s not true. I’m here to keep

her alive. I have a purpose.”

I have a purpose. Saying it felt really good. Katie gave my life purpose.

That had to be what I had been searching for. It made perfect sense. She

was the one I thought about all the time . . . the one I loved . . . a life-

changing beauty.

A jubilant smile warmed my face. Heloe went on.

<however, Katie is not going to live past the Dark Hours>

<the Descendants are not to survive, and if you attempt to

fight me, neither will you>

That wasn’t true. Nothing was going to happen to the Descendants.

Nothing. Nail and Nick were going back safely to Morocco, Ray was

going to return to Mount Helix, and Katie was going to return to Saint

Paval’s hill – wait, there weren’t four Descendants. There were five.

“I read on the timeline, which you gave to Quil, that there were five

Descendants.”

<Descendants of Costo Rose have incredible knowledge

about Halloween history> <something that no halloween

possesses>

“There are only four humans that fit this description.”

<a Descendant could live after death>

The last Descendant was a halloween? But what halloween knew more

history than his fellow halloweens? Heloe knew a lot. He was the one

who gave Quil the Halloween History timeline–

“Heloe, how do you know so much?” I asked.

329

<how did Tokuma Kimura and Cheng Yun-Sun know so much?>

<what about the Promulgated Samhain Fellowship?> <Judd is

not a Descendant either, but he knows many things

Descendants know nothing about> <I know about Judd, but he

does not know about me> <Jesse, the last Descendant is not

a halloween>

“Then why did you tell me ‘a Descendant could live after death’?”

<I have read many transcripts about the life of Katie,

her beliefs

The etabprying stopped for a moment.

and why she does not visit her father’s grave>

“I know,” I said. “Her belief . . .”

<her true belief is that her father is still alive>

<making it five Descendants> <you tell her there are four

and she will tell you there are five>

“But what about what the newspapers said? He ran into a drunk

homeless man and . . . they don’t know what really happened, but–”

<Frederick’s death cannot be told if there never was one>

“And the body at the cemetery?”

<Joriylalsecotol is magic that can disfigure, shape, and

transform a soul, thought, or a beating heart> <one of the

highest degrees of magic known to halloweens, which can

only be summoned by one halloween>

“The woman? . . .”

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<the woman from Brazil and Katie’s father are alive

somewhere in Brazil>

“Can you take me to them?”

<why?>

“So I can tell him how wrong of a decision he made. A father must

protect his children. If you love someone, you never leave them. You

stay with them and protect them. Can you take me to him?”

<that is impossible> <if he never comes out in public, he

cannot be located>

“But the woman from Brazil did! There’s a picture of her visiting

India!”

<but not him>

“How do you know he’s alive then? How do you know they’re in

Brazil?”

<eight years ago a human couple found encased letters in

the sand of a San Diego beach, written by Frederick> <one

of the two addressed to Katie> <a letter he was to leave

for her to read when she grew up> <however, he decided not

to give it to her> <the second letter was torn down the

middle> <only half of it came out of the case> <the case

closed before the second half could be retrieved> <sealed

with a lock-curse>

“Take me where everyone else is. I want to see Katie.”

<you will very soon

331

There was a pause in the writing.

<stand up> <we found out what we needed>

I stood up with Heloe. A short creature, smaller than Lin, trudged

through the back of the tunnel, grasping something in its claws. The

creature was green and bald, with long strands of green hair sprouting

from its neck.

<do not speak to him> <if we do, Jack will swipe him

before he reaches us> <Chief K. Commander P-Pel Low P.

does not know what he is holding in his claws> <you speak,

and Jack will kill you, too>

Chief Low had his eyes fixed excitedly upon the unknown precious

item in his claws. However, he never once peeked inside.

<close your eyes> <we will risk psyclin chase marks> <I

doubt Jack will trace them>

I closed my eyes just as I heard a thud of a body hitting the ground.

When I opened them, I saw Chief Low dead on the ground, still

clutching the unseen treasure. We were in the same room as a year ago,

with no windows and doors.

Heloe kneeled to the ground and slid his glassy fingers along the

corpse’s arm. He parted Chief Low’s claws, and extracted a small key.

<you will wait with the same family as before> <but

before I drop you off, remember you are to not tell

Leonard any of this> <if you do, Katie will die>

The Hollowk closed his eyes, and, before I could respond, I was inside

Quil’s musty home, standing next to him. Quil was gaping at Lin, who

stood in the corner, melting and oozing like a wax figure near a fireplace.

Both Lin and Quil were slimed all over with the smelly Repel Shield.

332

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Jesse!” yipped Lin. “You’re okay! Look, it’s a skinned skeletis.”

“Lin, did they do anything to you?” I asked.

“No,” he made a face back at me.

“What did they tell you?”

“I’m going to be protected. See all this sludge? It’s a shield. It’s also

good for the skin. They’re going to kill Jack.”

Quil took his one good eye off of Lin. “Chosen-H Jesse J., I thought I

would never see a melflin,” he said. “He is so small. He barely reaches

up to my waist. Leonard, show Chosen-H Jesse J. what conjure you can

do.”

Lin brought out his stink bomb.

“Lin, I’ve already seen your stink bomb,” I said. “And Quil, call me

Jesse, please.”

“That’s right,” said Kay from behind us. “Listen to Jesse.”

“Mamá, I have to go,” said Quil.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re my pumpkin.”

“Captain-S Oso R. said they needed–”

“Quil!” snapped Kay, her love and sadness for Quil brimming over the

edge.

“Papá said I am to go. It’s why we’re here, mamá. I’ve been training

for this.”

“You’re not going.”

“But they’ll kill you, mamá.”

“We’ll hide. You know the place I told you about before?”

“Yeeesss,” whined Quil. “But I want to fight. Third Sector – my class

is going. All of the Hollowks will be taking part. If I don’t go–”

“Quil,” I interrupted, “your mamá is right.”

“Jesse, why you taking her side? Aren’t you my friend?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must tell her I am fighting.”

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“Jesse knows,” said Kay.

“Jesse knows what?” said Quil.

“He knows Jack. Jack has killed tortics.”

“But, mamá, I heard Captain – I heard papá telling a Hollowk that if

we fight together, we are stronger than a hundred tortics.”

“Quil, please. Your papá doesn’t know what’s really happening. Jesse

and Leonard are the only ones who have seen it with their own eyes.

They know.”

“Descendant Katie Pundeff is here in the tower,” retorted Quil. “I’m

going to fight for her.”

“Quil,” I prompted eagerly, “you know where Katie is?”

“I thought you call her Cat?”

“Not anymore.”

“They put her in Cruel Dungeon 888. I can’t believe they locked her up

there. She must be punching the walls.”

Kay was about to say something, but she let me talk first.

“Quil, Katie is the bait. Jack is going to take her.”

“What – what do you mean?” stuttered Quil, confused. “Papá said they

were going to summon a clone. He said they would be doing this for me

because I don’t want her to die.”

“He’s lying,” cutting in Kay promptly. “He’s using you. Don’t call him

papá anymore. Quil, do you understand?”

Quil turned to me. “Jesse, are they using me?” he asked worriedly. “Is

Cat . . . is Katie going to die?”

“No, she’s not,” I said firmly. “Take me to her.”

“You going to rescue Katie?”

“Yes. And I need your help. I can’t do it without you and Lin.”

“Really?” gasped Lin gleefully. “No one has ever asked me to help.”

“Yes, Lin,” I said hastily. “Ready, Quil?”

Quil looked up at his mom and gave her a hug. “Sorry, mamá,” he

muffled into her ragged robe.

“It’s okay,” she said, hugging him tightly.

“You think I can change his mind?”

“Whose mind? Oso? . . . He doesn’t love me. That will never change.

Quil, who has the higher S-MPR?”

“You do.”

“When you were five, what did you tell me?”

“I want to be powerful like papá. But I want to be like you, mamá.”

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“You had better go,” she smiled affectionately.

“You’re really letting me go alone?”

“You have Jesse and Leonard.”

“Ready?” I asked Quil.

Quil gave Kay another hug, then made a quick psyclin into his room,

coming back with the Repel Shield completely wiped off.

“Mamá, I’ll be back,” declared Quil. “I’ll be back with Katie. We’re

going to save her like he does all the time.”

“I know,” she said, smiling at me, watching us head out the door.

“Jesse, you take care of my son.”

“Mamááá!”

“I will,” I said quickly. “Ready, Quil?”

“What about me, Jesse?” whined Lin. “I’m ready.”

“Yes, you two ready?”

“Yes!” they shouted in unison.

“Quil, you’re the leader.”

Excited, Quil immediately gave orders, “We have to take West

Earelavon, then Tortic Road, then up Ottagga’s Hill and across

Battlefield Hollowk.”

Kay waved goodbye and trotted back into the kitchen. Quil cursed the

door with three spider-locks and covered the cracks with black wood,

called timbrite, which fired magic spells at any intruders.

The outdoors was a lot mustier and warmer than Quil’s house. But

when we got to the western part of Earelavon, it got cold and damp. All

the places were lit; female skeletasaltis were sealing up their windows

with timbrite and clay. Soon, all the lights went out.

“Q-Quil, c-can you psyclin to the field?” I muttered in the icy-cold air.

He shook his head. “General Heloe will sense a psyclin.”

We continued to move quickly through the town. I would have been

running if not for the shooting pains in my recently grafted foot. It took

us five minutes to reach Tortic Road, another five to climb Ottagga’s

Hill, and even longer to go down the other side of it.

Quil stopped for a moment to look to his left, where, if I remembered

correctly, the First Line Hollowks spent countless hours practicing war

tactics. Nothing stirred along the trees boarding the field.

“I thought I’d be years older before I got here,” said Quil quietly.

“Y-you don’t want to ever be here,” I said, freezing and shivering.

“Whisper, Jesse.” Quil was staring into the trees on the right side.

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“Why not? Did Heloe take you there?”

I nodded, unsure how quiet he wanted me to be. Something alarmed

Quil from among the trees. Something was there. I could feel the warmth

it radiated.

“Come on,” I whispered, turning away from the trees and pushing Quil

past the black bamboo in the center of the field. I couldn’t resist glancing

at the life-like dummy tied to the top. Her head drooped, and her hair

covered her face. I stared at her, unable to look away.

“Sorry, Lin,” I whispered, bumping into him.

“What is that up there?” he asked.

Quil bowed his head and hurried along. I followed suit. We picked up

our pace as we headed for a passage of broken trees.

“Q-Quil, are we there yet?” asked Lin, exhausted. “My ankles hurt. . . .

My head hurts. . . . My skin hurts.”

“Yes.”

Just ahead of us were four towers that encircled a giant tower in the

middle. Like many of the structures here, they had no windows or

openings. They were speckled with white residue and mildew, but the

stone itself was smooth like an underwater rock.

We jogged between two of the outer towers, slowing down to a more

cautious speed as we neared the mother-tower.

“How are we going to get up there?” I asked, crouching behind a bushy

vine that climbed up the back of one of the smaller towers.

All of us stared up at the tower. It was dizzyingly high.

“I’m not sure,” said Quil.

“Have you been inside?”

“Yes.”

“How many Hollowks are inside?”

“At night there are always three; one keeper and two top chamber

guards. The ones at the front had to be summoned to Battlefield

Hollowk.”

“There was nobody on the field,” noted Lin.

“They were on the Private’s side.”

“Private’s side? Whose privates?”

“Lin, war privates,” I whispered, feeling an adrenaline rush. The war

against Jack was beginning right as we stood here. They were planning

to use Katie and Lin – but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Where can we enter?” I asked, stepping out in the open and crossing a

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stone courtyard overgrown with grass and weeds.

Quil and Lin caught up with me. “There,” said Quil, pointing to a small

hatch door ahead of us. “Jesse, you can take down the guards. None of

them are skilled Hollowks.”

“Jesse, what will you do to them?” said Lin. “Can I watch?”

“You’re coming,” I said. “I need both of you.”

“You need us?” said Quil. “Why?”

“Quil, I’m not ranked on the S-MPR. I’m a negative.”

“But you’re a human-hallow.”

“Yes, with a human rank.”

“No, Jesse,” Lin said, “halloweens don’t have a human rank.”

Lin didn’t have a clue what I was, I reminded myself. To him, I was

sometimes a human and sometimes a halloween.

Lin turned to Quil. “Jesse won the Jack-O’ Games’ Crown – HD

2447.”

“Yes, Lin, that’s true. But I need you two. You both are very strong…”

I stopped walking as I thought of something. “Wait. We’re going to

wait.”

“Wait for what?” asked Lin.

“Jesse, we don’t have much time,” reminded Quil. “Heloe will be

calling the battle very soon.”

I paced back and forth, glancing back at Lin, who sat down on a

smooth stone to rub his foot. He picked at scabs between his toes and

constantly wiped at the black skin oozing down his cheeks. His ears kept

pricking up intermittently.

“Jesse, is that how you summon magic?” asked Quil, watching me

pace.

“No, I’m just waiting.”

Quil was confused. “For . . . the magic to come?”

“No, for that,” I pointed at Lin.

Lin’s eyes and ears fluttered rapidly. This was what I was hoping for.

He was dressed in dark trousers and an expensive coat decorated with

countless shiny medals, ribbons, and three military patches: army, navy,

and marine. He sported an incredible number of Medals of Honor.

Twenty, all in all, according to a patch on his right shoulder, which read:

“I have twenty Medals of Honor.”

Laid out in front of him were all types of weaponry and tactical

paraphernalia: grenades, pocket knives, pistols, shotguns, bullet belts,

337

night vision goggles, walkie-talkies, compasses, boots and gloves, and a

tripod machine gun.

I grinned. “This will do,” I said.

“You there, get over here,” ordered Lin.

I ran over. Quil walked after me.

“Equip yourselves.”

There was so much to choose from.

“Arm yourselves or die,” ordered Lin.

That was kind of harsh.

“Now!” he yelled.

“Easy, Lin,” I said.

“Easy? We are at war!”

“What?”

“If you want to live, listen and obey! This is a direct order from your

superior, you weakling!”

“Okay . . . understood,” I said.

Quil and I pushed our way through the military apparel and picked out

our clothes.

“You done?” Lin barked one minute later.

“Almost,” I grunted, slipping on my last boot.

“This is a battle! We do things quickly!”

Quil and I were ready, or at least as ready as we were going to be. I had

a leg holster around my birthmark, a cargo backpack filled with water

canteens, on-the-go food rations, two flashlights, and a small duffle bag.

Both of us were dressed in sleek shiny uniforms.

“Is this a good idea?” Quil muttered to me.

“He has always helped me and Katie when we needed it.”

“Hey!” shouted Lin. “Did I sanction chit-chat?”

“No, Sir!” I said, standing at attention.

Quil straightened up next to me as Lin marched behind the machine

gun.

“Lin, stop,” I prompted. “It’s going to be too loud–”

An endless round of bullets riddled the tower, the move as pointless as

it was painfully loud.

“Lin, stop!” Quil and I shouted.

The barrel rotated through its last round.

“Didn’t work,” Lin said to himself.

“Lin, there’s a door,” I said. “We need to investigate and plan before

338

we act.”

“Let’s move.” He slid sideways along an invisible wall, peeked around,

then tossed a grenade. The door exploded into a billion pieces. Quil had

to quickly create a shield to block the debris.

“Come on, men!” prompted Lin as he crawled on his stomach through

the opening.

Quil and I slowly got on all fours and crawled after him.

“The door was unlocked,” Quil sighed.

Lin motioned us to join him as he flattened himself against a wall and

looked around the corner. There was a long staircase to the left, receding

into the dark, and a sleeping skeletasaltis up on a balcony to the right.

Lin proceeded to make motions with his hands as we patiently waited

beside him.

The skeletasaltis didn’t wake up, thankfully. I really didn’t see the

reason why Lin was pulling out another grenade. He plucked the pin out

with his teeth, and chucked it at the far wall, nowhere close to the

balcony.

BOOM!

The skeletasaltis sprang up to his feet.

Crapper, Lin!

“Put on your goggles,” said Lin just as he blew out the lanterns.

We shuffled quickly against the right wall, holding our rifles high. The

skeletasaltis was glaring right down at us.

“We come here in peace,” Lin said while he pulled out a bazooka twice

the size of my pumpkin launcher.

KA-BOOOOM!!!

The bottom half of the staircase was obliterated, which would have

been the easy way up.

I shook my head in dismay.

“I have rope hooks,” announced Lin triumphantly. He flung two ropes

up to the top and started climbing one of them, barely waiting for it to

catch.

“Follow me, Privates!” he shouted. “The enemy is coming! Here,

catch!”

He unhooked the second rope, which I was about to climb, and

dropped it down to me.

Okay, it was now official: Lin was plain stupid.

“Do it yourself,” said Lin.

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“Jesse, climb up,” shouted Quil as he magically had the skeletasaltis

pinned against the wall and his mouth forced shut.

This was all so stupid. But it was too late now, and I just had to go

along with it. In the end, Lin had always gotten me out of trouble, even

though he was often the cause of it.

Hooking the rope to the top of the staircase was easy. It was the climb

that was hard, and had it not been for the notches carved into the wall, I

probably wouldn’t have made it.

“Good job, soldier,” Lin greeted me at the top, helping me to my feet.

“We can’t leave yet. I never leave anyone behind.”

“Yes, I know,” I mumbled.

I took out my rifle, ready to shoot, wondering what it would be like to

just pull the trigger. But I didn’t want to find out. I didn’t want to shoot a

halloween, or anyone else for that matter.

“Jesse, he won’t do anything,” said Quil back at my side, lowering my

gun. “He’s scared of you and Lin.”

The halloween indeed seemed scared. He was gaping down at us, as if

much the same way as most halloweens gaped at Jacoby and Dorian.

“Sir, may I speak?” Quil asked Lin.

“Yes, Private.”

“Why did you blow up the staircase?”

“So that the halloween couldn’t climb it.”

“Sir, he’s a halloween,” I said. “He can psyclin.”

“Not here. If I can remind you, psyclining can be traced.”

“But it doesn’t apply to them.” I didn’t explain why. “Sir, we need to

hurry.”

“Yes, we must. Katie’s a good friend of mine.”

He hit the wall and quickly waved us over to the remaining fragments

of the staircase. We proceeded up the stairs, fascinated by the exquisite

carvings of ghosts and witches. Each individual step was unique, bearing

its own beautiful carving. The staircase itself was plain with timbrite

handrails, ballpoint posts, and sided with red carpet. The width of the

steps was thirty feet across. Five gargoyles could walk up side-by-side

without touching. However, Lin made us go up the far right side in a

single file announcing: “Right is always right.”

We stopped before the last couple of steps. Two Hollowks were

guarding the end of a long empty hallway. They were sitting down,

facing each other.

340

“Privates, this is a tropical rainforest,” Lin told us as the hallway

turned into a hot humid jungle filled with chirping birds, screeching

monkeys, growling tigers, and slithering snakes. The walls were coated

with dewy greenery and bent trees, too tall for a hallway.

“Where’s the rain?” inquired Quil sarcastically.

Lin looked back, and a heavy downpour followed.

“Take cover!” he shouted.

We did that for the next five minutes, dashing from one tree to the

next. A few times Lin climbed a tree to look through his binoculars. He

always came back down, saying, “There’s a jaguar nearby.”

Finally, he changed his tune.

“We have to become the wild. Pick an animal and let’s get moving.”

Quil glared at Lin, and Lin glared back.

“Quil, trust me,” I said. “It always works. He’ll get us through.”

I began making chimp grunts. Lin waited for Quil. Reluctantly, Quil

made a bird tweet.

“Wait, stop that,” whispered Lin, resting his rifle on his chest. “Things

have changed. We are going to fire. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Ready.”

“Fire!”

Quil and I jumped out with him and opened fired, hitting nothing but

trees, even though the guards were ten or fifteen feet away.

“You die, tropical rainforest rats!” yelled Lin.

The guards didn’t move. It was Lin, not the bullets, that scared them.

In a matter of a couple of minutes, Lin’s character took a radical turn,

developing absurd quirks one after another. One moment he thought all

green objects were hostile, then seconds later he was terrified of hairy

armpits, the word “the”, stay-home halloweens, and the notion that

Badeck’s would one day replace Candy Corn and become the official

halloween currency. The worst change was that Lin was convinced that

he was directing a melodrama in cold tundra and was therefore adamant

about it being below -10 degrees Fahrenheit. Each change appeared to

hurt him and made him cry, but he couldn’t stop it.

We waited for Lin’s manic outbursts to be over. Now that the worst of

it had passed, he was slumped over, weeping without a sound.

“Lin, are you okay?” I asked as the Hollowks psyclined out of the

hallway, feeling it was safe to leave.

341

Lin’s tears continued pouring for another minute. I had to grab his

hand. He looked like he wanted his mother.

“Jesse, what do you think happened?” Quil whispered into my ear.

“I don’t know,” I said, but I did have an inkling.

Lin let go of my hand and used his knife to write “mute” into a block

of ice left over from his tundra conjuring.

“But are you feeling better?” I stressed. “You didn’t seem yourself. I

thought . . .”

Lin wrote: “I am okay.”

His ears and eyes fluttered anxiously; somehow he had found his way

back to his military persona. He was already on the ground, making a

brace for his left arm.

“I’m badly wounded, Privates,” he informed us. “You have to leave me

here.”

There was a tiny cut on his arm. It was no bigger than a paper cut. He

spat a bottle cap out of his mouth and poured water on it.

“Go!” he said. “I’ll be dead in a few minutes.”

“Lin, we can’t leave without you,” I objected.

“You would rather die with me?”

“Well . . . yes,” I ended. “You’re my best friend.”

Lin’s face turned fierce. He darted his eyes around. “Okay, pick me up

and carry me forward.”

“You serious?” said Quil.

“Yes! You will obey me or you’ll be relieved of your duties.”

Quil and I picked him up and hauled him up the next set of stairs.

When we were at the top, he let us set him down. “My arm is feeling

satisfactory,” he said, rubbing his arm.

He took us down a corridor of cells, each of which held four inmates.

They didn’t look like criminals to me. Quil told us that over half of them

were put in here because they refused to become a Hollowk. They

weren’t bad halloweens, they were just like Kay, weary of war. The sad

part was that we couldn’t release them without knowing the exact spell

that was securing the locks, something only Heloe knew.

I was glad to get out of there; the prisoners had come up to their bars

and followed us with their eyes. It was depressing and heartbreaking.

They didn’t belong in cages. We passed more prisoners on the third and

fourth floor. More staircases and more cells. I thought they would never

end. We climbed level after level, hoping each would be the last. Even

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Quil wasn’t sure how much further we had to go.

It was taking us longer than it should have because Lin liked turning

the hallways into training grounds with wire fences, obstacle walls,

crocodile pits, monkey-bars, and even raging rivers.

“Okay, this is it, I can see her,” said Lin after he peeked through a

broken door. He held his hands out, blocking my way. “We can’t go in

yet. We need to check all–”

“Lin, we’re here,” I said. “Let me through.”

“There’s one more guard.”

“Sir, can I speak?” said Quil. Lin nodded. “The soldier at the top is

unarmed. They’re given this job as a reward for being good. They’re

called Consolidated-U-S.”

“Are you telling me, Private, that he’s a weakling? A coward? A baby?

A . . . a . . .”

Lin was going through another painful character change. He was back

into his striped overalls and three layers of undershirts. And Quil and I

were back into our robes.

“Lin?” I asked.

His face calmed down. He grabbed his knife and carved the word

“doing well” into the wall.

“Sure?”

He nodded.

“You’re mute again?”

He shrugged his shoulders. He looked dazed.

“Don’t worry about it. Just tell me if you start feeling strange again . . .

Lin?”

He nodded.

“Let’s go in.”

Katie was standing at the bars, waiting for us. She smiled. “Jesse!”

“Katie,” I said, beaming back at her. “Quil, can you unlock the–”

Quil was in a trance. He couldn’t take his one eye off of her.

“Quil, go ahead, the lock’s not timbrite,” I indicated.

Quil nervously stepped up to the bar and slipped a sharp phalange

inside the key hole. Katie was right at the door, waiting, ready to bolt out

the moment Quil opened it. I was equally giddy with excitement.

She jumped into my arms. “I knew you’d come,” she said.

“Lin and Quil volunteered to help me,” I informed. “Lin got us up

here. He’s now a mute.”

343

Katie smiled and hugged Lin. Quil faltered back as Katie looked at

him.

“Katie, this is Quil,” I introduced, “it’s spelled q-u-i-l.”

“Katie, I have read so much about you,” murmured Quil.

Katie shot me a funny look.

“You can shake her hand or hug her if you want,” I said.

Quil’s eye twinkled yellow excitedly. Katie opened her arms and

Quil’s eye buldged out of its socket. He hugged her and didn’t let go.

Katie smiled at me.

“It’s nice to meet you, Quil,” said Katie, pulling him away gently.

“I’ve read up on you,” repeated Quil. “I know you’ve done amazing

things.”

Katie was confused.

“Katie, his kind knows everything about you,” I prompted. “You’re in

their textbooks.”

Quil nodded. “Wal would never believe this. Unless you . . . can you

scrape my textbooks? You’ll just have to sign twenty.”

“Uhmm . . .” she thought. It was the first time I had heard her use

“uhmm.” She turned to me, and I shrugged my shoulders.

“Katie, why do you cry at night?” he asked. “All the Chosens – all my

friends always wanted to know.”

Katie hesitated, looking at me. “Quil, is it okay if I don’t answer?” she

said.

Quil thought about it. “How about Crapper? Why do you always look

up to the sky and say Craaapper!”

Katie held back a laugh. “It’s God’s nickname,” she answered.

“Crapper?”

“Yes.”

“You say it a lot with Sandy. Why don’t you kill Sandy? She hurts

you. . . . You know, that time you punched her in the face once, I cheered

when I read that part. That one was my favorite . . . one of my favorites.

The kiss was my favorite—”

His prattle was cut short as he sensed a heavy presence and backed

away from Katie. His worried eye glowed orange and remained glowing.

Something was about to appear in the middle of the dungeon.

344

CHAPTER THIRTY

’

A skeletasaltis appeared beside Katie and picked her up by the

shoulders, holding her like a priceless painting. As they psyclined away,

three skeletasaltis and three uboians entered.

“Leave her alone!” I told Heloe, wherever he was.

He was facing a faded square scripture made of long and curvy

symbols. Overlapping it was his etabpry.

<the Hollowk Ottagga War> <HD2447> <49695 uboians and

50004 skeletasaltis> <sorskis Tee Henderson> <melflin

Leonard Gibbly and human Bringa Gibbly> <Costo Rose’s human

Descendants Katie Pundeff, Ray Castanos, Nail Portal, &

Nick Portal> <human-hallow Jesse Jayden and halloween Jack

Ottaggaemenel>

49,695 plus 50,004 equaled . . . 99,699. That was nowhere near the

death count. But I couldn’t be sure if these were even counted as part of

the deaths.

Heloe wrote on a side wall.

<Magic Command Sergeant-U Goss A., take Quil back to

Structure E131> <his loyalty is not with the Hollowks> <he

will be dealt with after the war>

Quil was taken away immediately.

<First Line Sergeant-S Popul L., you will take Chosen-H

Jesse J. and Chosen-M Leonard G. to Tactic Command

Sergeant-U Exile B. for preparations> <they are to be back

345

at headquarters in precisely 20 minutes> <their families

are to be killed if they do not cooperate>

Sergeant Popul psyclin Lin and me to the muddy field, which wasn’t

empty anymore, but filled with hundreds of regiments, grouped together

so tightly that they looked like square crops. There were: no arms, no

hardware: no tanks, no helicopters, just troops armed with Repel Shield.

“Set stance,” ordered Sergeant Popul. “You are to be shielded.”

A uboian who was slimed with far too much gunk caked us with the

foul stuff. He didn’t have to touch us to smother us with it. A single look

did the trick.

“Get up,” said Sergeant Popul while Lin and I barfed up our last meals.

“You are to look at me when I speak to you.” He waited. “You will be

set on First Line Hollowk. Only Chosen-M Leonard G. will accompany

Bringa Gibbly underneath Core K.P.”

“What if he can’t do it?” I said.

He gave me a dismissive snort. “No one can bargain with Death,” he

stated.

Lin looked to be preoccupied by a different matter. “My mom?” he

asked the tall skeletasaltis. His arms and ears were fluttering nervously,

and his black face had lightened. “Why is my mom going to war? She’s

human–”

Sergeant Popul cursed Lin in the head, and just as he hit the ground, he

was psyclined away by two Hollowks. Sergeant Popul coolly psyclined

up into the air. He psyclined again and again, making his rounds to the

back of the unit. The regiments single-flashed orange eyes and emitted

smoke out of their eye sockets as he passed overhead.

“Jesse?” said Katie from behind me. She was tied to the black bamboo

that had once been in the center of the field, now resting on the shoulders

of two Hollowks. The key was hanging from her neck. “What are they

doing?”

“Uhmm . . .”

“Don’t lie,” she said, trying to shake her head. Most of her hair was

hanging over her face.

The Sergeant came between us and turned his back to Katie. “You are

given the right to speak your last words to the Descendant,” he ordered.

“No,” I said.

“Your last words?”

346

“No.”

“You don’t want to tell her anything?”

“I’m not leaving her!” I said just as they carried her away. I ran after

her, trying to speak, but nothing came out. I tried again, and still nothing.

I strode alongside of the procession, trying to think of a way.

“J-J-Jesse,” she stammered, terrified, grasping what was happening.

I ran ahead of the Hollowks and wrote in the dirt what I wanted to tell

her. When Katie came across it, tears streaked down her cheeks.

“Me, too,” she muttered just as the Hollowks psyclined her out of the

field.

“You can’t take her!” I screamed hoarsely at the Sergeant.

I was invisibly punched in the stomach.

“Stand!” ordered the skeletasaltis as all of the regiments were

beginning to psyclin.

I threw up all over his bony feet.

“Stand or you will lose your voice for good.”

I stood up. “Let me go with her!” I cried. “I promised her!”

He single-flashed his eyes red and black, and levitated me into the air

as the last Hollowks psyclined.

“I command you to close your eyes in five second,” echoed Sergeant

Popul’s voice. He was floating upward with me. We were the last ones

on the field.

“Nooo!” I screamed in his face.

“I will commence a full Binlisac on her before her death. Now!”

I opened my eyes. We were underneath large bushy trees, looking over

a vast field of white limestone, sand, and chalk. The land was scattered

with huge white monoliths, shaped like mushroom, pyramids, and human

heads. The layout was exactly like Battlefield Hollowk; an open land

bounded by a forest. However, unlike on Battlefield Hollowk, the trees

here were robust and unscathed, tagged with white flags. The huge desert

was shadowed by thunder clouds.

Sergeant Popul and I came to a chiseled limestone.

White Desert Southwest of Cairo, Egypt

347

Sergeant Popul advanced into the open land, heading toward a

stockade of monoliths over a mile away. Hundreds of skeletasaltis were

waiting there. The rest of the First Line was camouflaged at the outer

edge of the forest. The air was cold with an occasional warm sandblast

from a cyclone. The land was even bigger than Battlefield Hollowk. The

diameter could have been two or three miles.

Heloe slipped in front of Sergeant Popul, who was looking out into the

desert in between two monoliths. Heloe’s webbed feet were planted and

his beak was tilted keenly. Nothing disturbed the landscape but a distant

thunder, which slowly grew quieter. Nothing disrupted the perfect calm,

except a teeny fearful whimper from afar, the sound of someone crying

for her life.

“That’s Katie,” I wanted to say, but nothing came out. I turned to

Heloe, mouthing frantically. “Let me speak!”

He didn’t turn to me, nor did the Hollowks. All eyes were fixed on the

center of the desert.

I moved to the side to get a better view through the rocks and saw two

Hollowks standing beside the forty-foot-tall bamboo pole. They carefully

jabbed the bamboo into the ground, making sure it was secure, and

psyclined.

Katie was at the top, not struggling, just sobbing in heart-rending sobs.

I fell to my knees, feeling as if I was about to lose my mind. I had never

heard Katie cry like this before. Now I was shaken to the core by the

horrible scene as she was stammering the word “no” over and over again.

She understood full well she was going to be taken by Jack.

The wind swirled the red dirt into the air, painting the sky a fiery red,

resembling summer wildfires. Katie’s shape was obscured by the

swirling sand.

Go to her, I commanded myself. Get up! Get up! Get–

I was up, slowly jogging through the line of Hollowks. No more

waiting. I passed the regiments and the large rocks, and sprinted across

the red dust storm, keeping up a sprinter’s stride.

I wasn’t being stopped. They were letting me go. Perhaps they hadn’t

noticed my escape. But the answer was behind me, Wal was distracting

the Hollowks by psyclin jumping around the monoliths, stopping once to

show me the double-ended arrow on his ulna.

I was in too much of a hurry to wave back my thanks, but I knew he

understood.

348

The red clouds were thickening, making it harder to see. However, I

wasn’t worried, knowing I was running in the right direction.

“Katie–” My voice had come back. “Katie, I’m coming!” I yelled,

literally watching the sound of my voice be carried away by the wind.

My sprint was slowing to a jog. It was a lot further than I had thought,

two if not three miles out. Plus my foot was starting to give out. I had to

slow.

“Katie, I’m coming,” I gasped, stumbling across the hard sand. “I’m

coming.”

I couldn’t get up. Get up!

I couldn’t.

I was out of breath. My foot was throbbing.

Steady your breathing, I whispered to myself. Forget the pain. . . .

It worked. I was back on my feet, running alongside the forest glowing

with black dots. The wind had pushed me to the side. But what were the

glowing black dots? . . . I sure felt like I knew what this meant, but

couldn’t quite place it. This was . . . an arrival of some sort.

I curved inward, shifting into the highest gear, pushing my run up to

full capacity, and entered the storm like a whizzing bullet. I was going to

reach her in time. She was just up ahead. I was almost there. I could see

her. I slowed as I came up to the tall bamboo. She wasn’t crying

anymore, just frantically squirming in terror. But before I could reach

her, I fell headlong once again. Katie let out an ugly scream; a scream

that startled everyone; it was the most disturbing sound I had ever heard.

“Katie . . .” I lifted my scraped face off the ground and struggled to get

up.

The Hollowks had moved closer, their eyes still glowing black. Heloe

and Captain Oso stood side-by-side, gaping up at the bamboo.

A scared skeletasaltis shuffled up to Captain Oso. “T-they’re all dead,

C-Captain-S Oso R. T-the Bellnicsi can’t be summoned. He killed the

sorskis.”

Heloe’s beak turned in the direction of the messenger.

“Where’s Leonard Gibbly?” prompted Oso.

“Taken.”

“The Descendants?”

“Taken. He knew about us.”

I turned back to Katie. Her face was expressionless, exhausted and

creased with rivulets of blood and tears. She was virtually unconscious,

349

unaware of her surroundings.

“J-J-Jesse?” she rasped thickly as the bamboo broke in half and she

was ripped from it. Before she could touch the ground, she was gone.

“Katie?” I cried, stumbling toward the broken trunk. “Katie? Where

are you?”

Hollowks were screaming in the distance, making panicky psyclin

jumps out of the trees as horrible screams rolled through the forest.

The Hollowks outside spat out some protective curses, but something

stormed onto the scene, and their bodies caved in, surrendering to a

violent death. Hundreds dropped like flies before my eyes.

“KATIE!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

I vomited.

“Jesse, get up!” shouted a voice over the whirling wind.

My arm was tugged upward, and I was pulled up to my feet.

“Close your eyes!” Jacoby was putting himself between Heloe and me.

Dorian was right there next to him.

“Jacoby, he took Katie,” I cried.

“Close your eyes, he’s killing everyone,” he explained hurriedly,

keeping an eye on the Hollowks. “Jesse!”

“I’m not leaving!” I shouted.

A squad of skeletasaltis psyclined around us, but not one would come

near me, not with Jacoby and Dorian at my side.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Magic bombs went off in the red-clouded air, taking down hundreds of

Hollowks. They didn’t stand a chance against the invisible attacker, dead

before they hit the ground. Some were whacked and banished from sight,

as though a large sledgehammer swung across the air.

“Jesse, where’s Lin?” yelled Jacoby.

“I don’t know . . . taken. . . . I need to go after Jack. Take me to Jack!”

The sandstorm had died down, and my voice was echoing through a

white landscape strewn with thousands of gory corpses. There were no

more screams. It was quiet.

“JACK!” I yelled angrily.

“Dorian, the deaths?” Jacoby asked.

“JACK!”

“The warriors are dead,” answered Dorian, taking a look at Heloe’s

corpse. “We are on 99,699 here.”

“JACK!”

350

“What’s the total?”

Dorian’s face twisted.

“How many?”

“Not many,” said Dorian. “The warriors’ families are being killed.”

“He’s going to kill off what’s left. We let it be.”

“JACK!” I screamed at the broken bamboo.

“Jesse, we’re going to get her.”

I spun around. “Now!”

“Yes, now. We’re going to put you in front of Murky Himalaya. We

have to stop him.”

“Katie comes first!”

“Himalaya can find her. The warriors’ protective curse set upon you

two has faded. Katie is first.”

“Yes,” I stated authoritatively. “Let’s go.”

“But first, I need to tell you what he has done.”

Okay then. Go on.

“He has murdered over one hundred halloweens and eighty humans.

You’re to end this murderous path by befriending him.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“To save lives you’re to become his friend. Is that clear?”

“Okay.”

“He’s smart. You must be careful with your words and actions.”

“Okay. Can we go?”

“Jesse, do you understand that Katie can’t be found without

Himalaya?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. What will you do?”

“Befriend him, and he will take me to Katie.”

“Dorian will psyclin you there,” he explained finishing up. “You’ll be

left alone. Our part in this is done. Himalaya has agreed to stop if we turn

you over to him.” He turned to Dorian. “What’s the death count?”

Dorian mumbled something, then cleared his throat and repeated.

“Three deaths remain.”

“Jesse, you hear that?” said Jacoby. “There are three more before

Halloween’s twilight.”

I nodded.

“Dorian planted a Natsa curse on your heart.”

Dorian put out his hand and shut my eyes with two fingers.

351

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Jesse, a Natsa curse permits you to sense a halloween’s death,” I

heard Jacoby say. I didn’t open my eyes or release Dorian’s hand. I

hadn’t left yet. I could still feel the vast emptiness of the desert around

me. Sand was blowing in my face. The desert air was cold and putrid.

“Every human that dies at the hand of magic will be known to you.

You’ll experience a stabbing sensation in your heart with every death.”

I was beginning to rock back and forth. I wanted to go.

“Jesse, you bring them back,” Jacoby instructed. I felt his hand touch

my head.

The atmosphere suddenly turned to a breezy night. I landed in the

middle of the dirt arena of the America Festival. The stadium was

cracked in half. Seats had been crushed and pushed back up against the

balconies.

Himalaya was standing there waiting for me, his towering shape

dwarfing me to the size of a spectacalon. He was glaring down at me.

Dried cuts ran across his broad white nose and fleshy white lips. His

thick white hairs were tinged with red, and blowing sideways in the

wind.

I didn’t know what to do next, how to appeal to this enormous

halloween, who wanted to kill me.

I was lifted off the ground and brought up to his eyes. They were large,

glistening and round, partly veiled by his shaggy eyebrows, just as I

remembered them.

“The - halloween - kept - his - word!” bellowed Himalaya, grasping me

tightly in his hands, with only my head poking out from his furry grip.

“Where - is - Katie?”

“You . . .” Katie’s name startled me. “. . . you can find her?”

“No!” He was thinking.

“You can now. The protective curse is gone.”

352

His thoughts turned in the direction of the wind. He knew where she

was.

“Can you take me to her?” I said. “Jack has her. You have to get her

out before he kills her.”

The giant brought me closer to his tired reddened eyes. “You - like -

her?”

“Billy, I’m sorry.”

“I - am - going - to - kill - you, do - you - understand?”

“Find her first. I want her to live. You want her to live, don’t you? . . .

Everything was my fault. I messed up everything. She always wanted to

be your friend. I wanted to be your friend, too, but . . .”

“There - was - truth - in - your - voice - yesterday! You - wanted - to -

kill - me!”

“I did,” I said truthfully. “I have problems. . . . Jacoby instructed me to

befriend you. But I’ve always wanted to be your friend. It was just my

temper in the way. All I want now is for Katie to live.”

“I - like - Katie!” he admitted.

“Me too. She is my best friend.”

His wide pupils focused on me. Something was changing in him. He

sat down slowly. “She - is - to - be - killed - by - a - friend,” he reminded

me.

“But not in my life.”

“Shut - your - eyes!” he said, opening up his other hand and revealing a

frightened witch in his palm. “Witch, psyclin - us - to - the - water!”

Billy and I closed our eyes, and we were taken to the vast shores of a

dark ocean. He carefully lowered the trembling witch to the sand.

“Thank you,” I said to the witch and Billy.

“Thank - you, witch!” Billy told her before making a monstrous dive

into the Pacific Ocean. He had cupped me in his hand, sealing out the

water.

We resurfaced a few times to replenish my oxygen.

“We - be - there - now!” he bellowed above the surface. We were in

the middle of the ocean. No land in sight. Gray clouds hung low above

our heads. Brisk winds swept over the water.

“We - be - there - now!” he repeated dumbly. “Me, Billy! It - better - to

- act - dumb! Me - like!”

“I like the old Billy, too.”

“Close - mouth! We - get - our - friend!”

353

I closed my mouth, and he took me under, his mighty strokes carrying

us into the deepest waters, where no light could reach. After what

seemed like an hour, we entered a dark cave with shifting black clouds

and spine-chilling ambient sounds, echoing wails and hums. It was the

place I never wanted to return to, yet here I was again.

Billy set me down. His head touched the ceiling, which made it hard

for him to move inside the cave.

I was reluctant to breach the silence as a sinister melodic hum traveled

aimlessly up the cliff, skirting the wall, as if tracking prey.

“Billy, you can’t go anywhere,” I whispered.

“Me - stay!” He assured in a spooked tone.

Both of us followed the wanton sound with our eyes.

“I need you,” I begged.

“He - kill - me - if - me - move!” He tried not to bellow. “Me - do -

what - me - had - to! You - me - best - friend, Jesse! You - tell - Katie -

me - friend, too!”

I nodded uneasily. A desolate cry drifted along the surface of the rock

we stood on. It didn’t stay long, lingering only for a moment at the tips

of his large toes.

“Where are you going to go?”

“Me - forced - to - stay - here!”

“What is he going to do to you? He’s going to let you go, right?”

He shook his head, and put out a huge hairy white hand. “Thank - you,

Jesse!”

“He’s not going to kill you, is he? Come with me! Please!”

We watched a vibrating bass hum make its way across the hollow.

“Is he here in this cave?”

“No - he - somewhere - far!”

“Far? Far from Katie?”

“Me - think.”

“Then we have to go now! This is the time! We can’t talk anymore!

Are you going to come get Katie with me?”

His thoughts were elsewhere, as he started to vanish.

“Billy? . . . What are you doing? . . .”

“Me - small!” he said, morphing into a man in a white shirt and white

pants. He was built like me, but had milk-white skin and white hair tied

in a ponytail. “We go save Katie!”

“And Lin.”

354

“The melflin?”

“Yes. There are four humans: Katie, Ray, Nail, and Nick. We have to

find all of them.”

“We go.”

“We go,” I repeated.

Billy and I cautiously slipped past the sounds and climbed slowly up

the haunted staircase that throbbed with strange moans. Looking

surprised to make it to the top, the small Billy hurried down a short

tunnel and over to a muddy nook with mossy rocks and rotting fragments

of wooden steps placed over mounds of soil. The place felt no safer than

the large cavern. The hums and wails hovered and swirled overhead; it

was easy to imagine that we were walking across the sea floor while

whales swam above us in the dark.

Billy summoned a few fireballs up ahead to light the way.

“Katie be close,” he said in a dry hushed voice. “We call?”

I nodded. “Katie?” I whispered, stopping for a moment to scan my

surroundings, but it was pitch black beyond the short reach of the

fireball’s glow. “Ray? Can anyone here me?”

The stepping planks had ended at a grassy hill. The summit wasn’t far

away, but we couldn’t see it. I dug my fingers into the soil and pulled

myself up. It was easier for Billy. However, he was trailing behind.

“Is this the way?” I turned around.

My heart began to beat faster.

“Billy?”

Billy looked up at me. “Me don’t know,” he answered, disappearing

into the darkness as a black cloud killed the fireball.

“Billy, let’s check at the top. Shoot another fireball. . . . Billy, climb up

here.”

I peered into the darkness.

“Billy? You need to speak so I know you’re–”

A section of the grass was undulating. Something was moving toward

me. . . .

“Billy, summon a light!”

No sound came out of the darkness.

“Billy, if you’re still there,” I trembled, “please say something to me.”

The grass was ruffled again. This time, it wasn’t feet treading through

the grass. It was a body rolling down. My heart pounded, ready to rip out

of my chest. No. The wait wasn’t long. A stabbing pain pierced my heart.

355

I ran blindly down the hill, tumbling half of the way down.

“Billy!” I reached out my hands. “Billy, speak to me! Please–”

My hands touched a massive body. No, this couldn’t be Billy. I pushed

my fingers through the long hair. There was no movement. . . . It was too

dark to see who it was. But I knew it was him. There was no other

halloween this big.

Hearing footsteps shuffling through the grass, I turned in that direction,

and muttered, “He chose to change to be my friend. And you killed him?

You just kill things!” The rustling stopped. “Take me to Katie. . . . Take

me to Katie!” I screamed not knowing precisely where to look, feeling

like I was somewhere in outer space. There was a cluster of twinkling

stars out there. The one closest to me looked like it was dancing. The tiny

sphere of light was jumping around like a firefly. It was coming my way.

I was feeling really good. My foot felt much better. So this must have

been all in my head. However, it felt more real than a memory or a

hallucination–

“Wait here,” said Katie. She was in her bulky sweater and long board

shorts. She had a funny looking pop belly. “I’m gonna talk to Oz. Today,

we’re going trick-or-treating.”

She ran out of my bedroom and headed for the kitchen. I chased after

her and as she entered the kitchen I threw myself at her and hugged her.

“Jesse, what–” she lingered for a moment, about to hug me back, I

thought. She then pushed me away. “What you doing? I haven’t

persuaded Oz yet!”

Oz had just shut the oven door and was staring right at us. I dashed to

her and hugged her.

“Jess, what’s this for?” said Oz. “Are you trying to get on my good

side? I’m sorry, but it’s still a no. No trick-or-treating.”

I faltered, releasing my hold on Oz. “Where am I?”

“Where are you?” said Oz, confused. “Jess, this is no time to

daydream. . . .”

Everything faded to a new scene. Mr. Edward was handing me my P.E.

uniform inside the boys’ locker room.

“Okay, just don’t stare at me like a deer,” said Mr. Edward. “Go put

them on. Yours is locker number 60.”

I stepped backward into the wall of the shower stall, hearing students

gossiping loudly and throwing underwear around.

356

“What’s going on?” I mouthed to myself, seeing skinny Steve and

George walk past me.

“Let’s stick together in the beginning,” said Steve.

“But I want to go for the record today,” countered George.

“So you’re going to run full out this time?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yep,” said Steve. “You’re going down. I win, and you have to clean

our room for the whole year.”

They continued talking as they walked out of the locker room. As I did

before, I waited until everyone left. Sam came in just as I remembered.

He didn’t spot me right away, searching my locker aisle first.

He did look different back then. He had a shaved head.

“You Jesse Jayden, skinny-whitey?” said Sam, securing his basketball

in between his feet. He took my PE shirt from me. I hadn’t written my

name on it yet. “Well, if you are, Chris calling for you. He’s taking roll.

If I were you, I’d run so fast.”

I stood up and walked out with him. “You’re going to be late,” he

repeated.

“That’s okay,” I said.

“My name’s Sam. Aren’t you going to put on your P.E. clothes?”

My spider curse poked its beady eyes out of my front pocket. “Spider!

You’re alive! . . . Come out!”

Sam looked at me strangely.

“Sam, this is . . . Spider, I have a name for you! . . .” I really didn’t. I

don’t think I ever thought of one for him after his death. “Uhmm . . . your

name is Himalaya. You’re as special as the Himalayas and–”

The black spider inched a little further out.

“You’re crazy,” said Sam.

“Sam, get back on your number,” said Chris outside. Sam did as he

was told. “Are you Jesse? . . . Next time, don’t be late . . .”

I turned to Katie’s number. She was trying to mouth something to me. I

couldn’t make it out.

“Katie, why are we in our memories?”

The scene turned into Mr. Jiracek’s Algebra class. Wendy had just

stepped in wearing her orange dress. All the boys were ogling her.

I got up out of my chair and strode to her before she could stop by

Katie’s desk.

“Don’t you talk to her!” I snapped at Wendy. “I’m with Katie!”

357

Everyone was gaping at us. Bert yelled “fight” from his seat.

“I know you cheated on me!” I added.

“You’re loony,” ridiculed Wendy.

“Yeah, call me names. Why don’t you go back to the high school and

kiss up to the star athletes there. I’ll never kiss you ever again.”

Everyone was shocked. I turned to Katie to see her reaction. She

looked shocked. Just then I realized that Wendy hadn’t gone out with me

yet.

“Katie, I was just . . . I never kissed Wendy. . . . Katie, are you in

there?” I still wasn’t sure what to make of all this. Were both Katie and I

trapped in the same memory?

“Kiss me?” Wendy exclaimed for everyone to hear. “I would never

kiss a scrawny dork like you. Sick. I’d rather go out with . . . Bert.”

Bert’s eyes popped out of their sockets.

The scene faded away. I was at the “I Know More Halloween History

Than You” contest. I blurted out that Jack was the color green, and

Katie was thrown out of the contest. The memories kept rolling. I was

taken back to the time when I was replacing a burnt bulb one year

earlier; the night I discovered the existence of halloweens. I even

revisited the time when Katie flung a shovelful of dirt at me. The rapid

succession of disjointed memories came to an end, replaced by a new

scene.

Lin was leading Katie and a class of students across the rickety bridge

inside Lorseria’s dungeon. Tall fires were bouncing and crackling below

us. I watched them walk across.

“Katie?” I called out to her.

She didn’t turn around. I ran across the swaying bridge.

“Don’t run, Jesse,” ordered Lin.

I couldn’t stop myself in time and bumped him off the bridge, sending

him flying over the railing.

“LIN!” I shouted. Lava burned him to death.

“Jesse!” prompted Katie quietly. “You’re not really here.”

I flipped around. “I just killed–”

“No, you didn’t,” she assured softly.

“I just killed–”

“Lin is not dead, Jesse.”

The air was smoldering hot. I forgot how hot it was.

“Who are you?” I said to Katie. “Are you real?”

358

“I am,” she said.

“Then tell me what I used to call you.”

“Cat.”

I smiled. “What’s going on?”

“Flying memories keep hitting us.”

“Is Jack doing this?”

She shook her head as she began to dissolve. The next memory was of

Sam, Bert, and me spying on Taylor and Katie behind a hedge. Taylor

was holding a dozen roses.

“Yes,” answered Katie to Taylor’s invitation to the downtown play.

“Katie, how did you get in here?” I asked, getting up to my feet.

She gave me a peeved look, as if I had done something wrong.

“Jesse, you can’t keep changing the memories,” she said. “We’ve got

to let it play out the way they happened. It goes by faster then.”

“So I have to . . . storm away?”

She nodded, then snarled and said,“You eavesdropping on me?”

“Uhmm . . . yes.” Wait, I forgot, I had to hurry away.

Katie saw that everyone was staring at us.

“Jesse, next time we can’t change it,” said Katie, giving up.

“But how are we in these memories together?”

She shrugged her shoulders as Bert came over to me.

“You two crazy people are so meant to be together,” he declared, dead

serious.

The memory lasted for a while because I had trouble remembering

what I had done. After a few more memories, I noticed that Katie was

right: whenever I faithfully recreated my actions, the memory would fly

by.

Now Katie and I were back in Jack’s Secret Veil, walking amid

clusters of glowing orbs that flew around in the dark.

Katie hugged me quickly.

“Katie, where are . . . is this another memory? I can’t remember–”

She pushed me away, out of the path of an incoming orb. Both of us

ducked twice as another one circled overhead. Katie and I pulled each

other in as memories soared behind both of us.

“You okay?” I said over her shoulder, holding her close.

I felt her nod on my shoulder. “We have to get Lin.”

“He has Ray and Nail, too,” I said.

“You know where?”

359

“No.”

She slow-danced me backward, avoiding a large constellation of

memories, and then leaned in, so close our foreheads were touching.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling the sweat on her forehead. “I hate memories

— most memories.”

“Is it safe now?” she asked, my face bathed in the warmth of her

breath. Her lips were too close. They were going to touch mine– “Jess, is

there any more of them?” she repeated.

I shook my head against hers.

“Let’s . . .” she started.

“There,” I pointed at an opening among the orbs, our best bet of safely

escaping the room.

She slowly pulled back. “Let’s go.”

We hurried along, but I stopped halfway, seeing Billy’s giant arm off

to my right.

“What?” she said.

“Billy’s dead.”

Katie sidestepped a group of treacherous memories and then came

back to my side. We peered at his hairy white arms, tucked awkwardly

underneath his belly.

“He changed,” I told her. “He brought me here. . . . I don’t know what

to say.”

“Saying nothing is okay.”

“Bad can turn good. You’ve done something great, Billy. You’re my

friend. I will see you.”

“Bye, Billy,” added Katie.

“Alright. Let’s get going.”

The opening was harder to get through. We had to twist our bodies in

weird ways to squeeze through. Sometimes there was nothing we could

do, and we just had to re-live them. At last, we made it onto the jagged

pathway. On my first step, I kicked a small box. Not far from it was the

familiar key and a tattered sheet of paper, or at least half of one, with the

second half missing.

“Jesse, we need to hurry,” said Katie.

“I think this is important.” I picked up the torn paper.

It was a letter penned in black ink.

Dear J.S. Halloween

360

Katie interfered, pushing the paper down before I could read further.

“First, we’re getting Lin. Jesse, why did you come here?”

“To be with you . . . and save my friends.”

“Okay, then.”

She was right.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said, ready to break into a sprint. I dropped the

letter, but Katie picked it up and tucked it into the inner pocket of my

robe.

The pathway was cold and lit by gleaming dark clouds. There were a

few glowing memories here and there, which helped, but we needed

more light to be able run.

“There’s going to be two more deaths,” I remembered, stopping below

an old glass lantern, crusted with mud.

“You know who?” she asked. She looked thin and ghostly in this light.

Her skin had turned from golden brown to ashen grey. Three cuts ran

across her face, as if she had been clawed. Her witch gown was stained

and torn.

“You okay?” I said quietly, cringing a bit.

“I’m fine. How do you know there’s going to be two more deaths?”

“Jacoby . . .” was all I could get out. She was in really bad shape, “. . .

Jacoby had said there are three deaths left. And now Billy is dead.”

Katie grabbed my hand. A human cry rose from the nightmarish hum.

“Did you hear that?”

“I can’t get out of here,” came a tearful plea. It was Lin.

Katie and I took off at full sprint into the dark. We didn’t stop to think

what path to take when we had multiple options, rushing ahead at full

speed following the cries, stopping now and then for a breathless

moment to regain our bearing whenever the weeping halted. My bad foot

was beginning to slow me down again.

“Back!” I prompted, stopping and veering back stiffly, like an old man

trying to jog.

“I can’t hear him any–” panted Katie just as another whimper came.

“Lin, where are you?” I shouted.

Lin heard us. “Jesse!”

Run faster. And we did, or at least she did, rushing up a hairline path,

just barely clearing a bottomless pit.

“We’re coming!” I said as I caught up to Katie. “Lin, stay where you

361

are!”

“I don’t feel so good,” echoed Lin.

“Where are you?”

“Here,” came his weak voice, dwindling across acres of vines, looming

orchards, and gigantic pumpkin patches. We slowed through the fields of

pumpkins, as if walking in a dream. Dorian’s pumpkins were miniatures

compared to these. The largest pumpkin was the size of a two-story

building and had uprooted its own pumpkin tree.

The soft soil soothed my throbbing foot. Because the ground was

lumpy, I didn’t have to hide my limp.

I looked at Katie, and she looked back.

“You okay?” she asked, grabbing my hand.

“Yeah . . .” I said. “We’re together so I’m okay.”

“Me, too.”

It was a long time before we heard Lin’s voice again, this time coming

from a grassy cave. We entered the dark place, guessing our way. Soon,

our shadows fell across three bodies, sitting against the wall.

“Ray?” I called and squinted, making sure it was indeed them. Ray and

Nail were sitting side-by-side, with Nick fastened to Nail’s lap.

“Nail, let’s get Nick up,” I whispered, scared to see what had happened

to them. Thankfully, they were okay.

Nick’s eyes got big as he traced the sound of a spooky hum.

Katie was helping Ray to his feet. “Are we safe?” he asked.

“You’re inside a Secret Veil,” I explained. “We have to get out of

here.”

“Jack’s Secret Veil?”

“Ray, we have to go. . . . I don’t think Jack’s here. Now is our chance.

He’ll come back to check on you.”

“Jesse, I am an old man. A Veil is too vast for me. I won’t make it.”

“I’m not leaving without–”

“You hear that?” said Nail. “Is that . . . ?”

“That’s Lin,” I said. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t leave them

here. I wasn’t leaving anyone anywhere.

“Jesse, I see you,” said Lin from far away.

But I couldn’t see him. “That’s not me, Lin!” Oh God. “We have to get

him,” I rushed to Katie. “I think Jack wants to kill him. Jacoby had once

thought Lin could kill him. If Jack knew that the Hollowks plotted the

war, then he also knows about Lin.”

362

“You have to go,” said Ray.

“Nail, what do you want to do?”

“Get Lin.”

“But . . .” I turned to Katie. “I’m not leaving.”

Katie was peering in the direction of Lin’s call. “Jack’s approaching

him.” I could tell she believed it, too, that Jack was going to kill him.

I couldn’t believe what I was about to say. “Katie, you have to run

ahead without me.”

She stood motionless, dumbfounded. “No.”

“Katie, I’m hurt. I was injured in the match. They had to . . . give me a

new foot.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Let me see it.”

I looked into her eyes and said sincerely, “Katie, we have to do this if

we are to save Lin. I’ll catch up to you. We can’t just stand here. Go.”

363

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Katie stared deep into my eyes and gave me the bravest smile she

could muster. She sprinted away, but stopped and ran back to hug me.

“I’ll catch up to you,” I repeated.

“I know,” she said.

“Katie, you have to go.”

“After this, we’re not leaving each other.”

“Never.”

She hurried away without another word. I painfully limped after her,

losing sight of her after a couple of seconds. I couldn’t hear Lin

anymore. I picked the hardest routes: trekking up slippery wind-shaped

terrain, a curse-encumbered cliff, a lumpy marsh, and through a

tunneling maze.

While I waited inside a short tunnel for a glowing cloud to come along,

I spotted human footprints. One was small, bare-foot, and mincing, as if

someone old and feeble shambled along. The other print was small,

booted, with broad steps. I thought they were Lin’s and Katie’s. But

there was a third print.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katie followed Lin’s footprints into a large dark cavern. A faint beam

of light was glowing up ahead.

“Lin?” she said toward the light.

A young boy in baggy overalls turned around wielding a glowing

knife. Lin’s black skin was glistening with sweat. His ears didn’t move

or quiver.

“K-Katie, c-can you c-come here?” he exhaled weakly.

He hadn’t noticed a tall shape looming behind him, leaning over him.

Katie couldn’t move or make a sound. She shuffled backward, then

turned and ran for her life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lin!” I bellowed inside a tunnel embedded with black pebbles. “Lin”

364

was echoed back at me. “Katie!”

I kept calling for them, using the echo to navigate in the dark,

stumbling forward with outstretched arms.

Darkness.

Emptiness.

Pain.

I was lost inside a boundless room. I swept my hands around me,

feeling a powerful presence. Animal-like breathing came from the dark,

followed by stifled sounds of a desperate struggle; a life was being put

out.

“Katie!” I cried out. “Lin!” My voice was going out. “Why did I let

you go?” I croaked to myself. “Katie, why aren’t you answering me? I n-

n-need you–”

I grabbed my chest. My heart was pierced. It was the death of a loved

one. I screamed, feeling like the world was collapsing around me.

A thin crescent of a blade threw glimmering light onto a motionless

body lying further away. Katie was curled up on her side, her back

toward me, her hands and legs splayed awkwardly.

I screamed again.

But she was alive; her body was heaving slowly. Exhausted and half

out of my mind, I crawled around Katie’s motionless shape and collapsed

across from her, peering into her face. I reached for her with my

trembling hand.

“Katie? . . . Katie? . . .” She wouldn’t answer. “You okay?”

Sensing Jack, I peeked over her, the gleam of Lin’s knife outlining

Jack’s ghostly silhouette in the dark. He was holding a lifeless body. He

let go of Lin, and he landed on the ground with a sickening thud, like a

slab of meat. Lin’s Hallow Soul was dead.

I gathered Katie in my arms, holding her tight. I felt like my insides

had been torn out.

“I’m the last death,” I sobbed. “I’m the last death–”

Something tugged on my legs. I almost felt a sense of relief and peace,

knowing I was next. The last death. There was nothing else to think

about, nothing to try. If it wasn’t Jack’s time to go, then it was mine. I

looked up at the dark ceiling, thinking just maybe I would see Duma the

welgo, but she wasn’t there.

Giving up on Duma, I indulged a soft kiss on Katie’s cold rigid lips,

hoping she would understand. I painfully released my grip on her as I

365

was pulled across the rocky surface. She was going to be alright.

“You’re going to be alright,” I mouthed. “I’ll protect you.”

I didn’t reach for any crevices or rocks to grip on to, letting the coarse

floor sear my back.

An undefinable voice rolled through my body, inviting me to visualize

my own death. I was spilling tears with each haunting word. I didn’t

fight it. I was going to do what Katie wanted me to do. I was going to

protect her. And in order to do so, I had to leave her. The promise to be

“together forever” took on a different meaning.

I was dragged past Lin’s corpse. His neck was creased with handprints.

My best friend Leonard Gibbly had been a good halloween–

My head was clamped and pulled off the ground, as though it was

being removed from my body. With a shattering surge of pain, I realized

I wasn’t ready to die. I wanted to live. Everything became a jumble right

then, except for one thing: this was the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katie awoke with a long piercing cry that she couldn’t quite bring to an

end. She’d left Lin. In her mind she was still running away.

Dorian was holding her hand.

“I left Lin,” she muttered. “I need to go back. I need to go back. Let me

go back, Dorian.”

But she was ‘back’. She’d never made it out of the cave.

Drops of tears hit her forehead. Dorian was crying.

“Dorian – what’s wrong?” she urged, the coldest feeling wrenching her

insides. She looked back to see Jacoby crouching with a lantern. “What’s

Jacoby doing there? Where’s Lin?”

Katie shot up like lightning. Dorian was up with her, trying to shield

her.

“Dorian, get out of my way! Jacoby!” she called out as she saw the

white and black fabric of Lin’s overalls. She turned back to Dorian,

trying to find his eyes. But he’d closed them. “Let me go, Dorian,” she

wailed. “Move out of the way!”

Turning back to Jacoby, she caught sight of two bodies.

“Two bodies,” she gasped wildly. “Dorian, who’s over there?” Her

voice broke into a squeak. “Is that . . . Jesse? – Let me GOOOO!”

Katie almost hit Dorian, but he had already released her. She collapsed

before she got to the bodies.

“LET ME GOOO!” But she wasn’t being held. She was losing her

366

mind.

“Katie, close your eyes,” whispered Jacoby, holding a limp body in his

lap. It was Jesse. His orange hair was blackened with dirt. His skull was

cracked.

“That’s not Jesse. . . .”

Jacoby wouldn’t move, unable to walk away from Jesse and Lin.

“Katie, a Secret Veil can delay his death. Grab Dorian’s hand.”

Jacoby tried psyclining Jesse and Lin, but only he left. Jesse and Lin

remained. Jacoby appeared seconds later.

“We cannot psyclin a dead body,” Dorian reminded him.

Jacoby stood there for a long time in a daze. Katie couldn’t stop

shaking her head.

Jacoby did two quick psyclins by himself returning with Katie’s welgo,

Rose, and Jesse’s welgo, Duma. The black slender halloweens didn’t

know what was going on, looking on with hesitant curiosity.

“Rose, take Lin to Midgical’s graveyard. Duma, take Jesse to his

house.”

The second Jesse was lifted onto Duma’s back, her skin molded around

him, cradling him.

Katie watched as Duma squeeze through the front door of the house.

“I thought you died,” Oz cried into Jacoby’s shoulder, not having

noticed the new arrivals. “Ray, Nail, and Nick were dropped off at Ray’s

– Jacoby, you’re trembling. . . . What’s . . .”

She pulled back and looked behind him. “Where’s Jesse? Jacoby!” She

spotted the welgo kneeling to the floor to slide Jesse off of her.

Everything from this point on was a blur. Katie vaguely remembered

psyclining to an empty grave with Oz, whose deranged screams and

shouts could be heard in the background. Franky and Murlie were there.

Jesse was laid down next to a grave. She couldn’t recall anything that

had happened until then, nor was she aware of what was happening

around her now. But she did pick up on two things: the one-eye

skeletasaltis showing up and Jacoby’s haunting words: “Jesse will never

wake up again. He will be dead in two years.”

Katie never saw Jacoby and Dorian leave. Somehow she knew that

they’d gone after Jack. She picked up a sheet of paper that rested next to

Jesse’s body: it was a page of questions, the one he had carried on him

367

and scribbled on all the time. Katie read them over carefully. She

couldn’t answer them all, but she did her best. She sat on the ground,

grabbed his pencil, and scribbled in the answers.

September, 2003

302. Will Katie ever let go of me? yes. Jacoby pulled me off when I fell asleep

October, 2003

303. Where did Jacoby and Dorian go? to count deaths

Note: Think of a way to stop the deaths.

October, 2003

304. Is Jesse Samhain Halloween a Celtic name? no

Note: Something seems fishy about Mollo. Look into it. yes

Note: Jake and Jim could be the de-moan demons. you’re right

October, 2003

305. Why can’t I summon magic? you did at the game

October, 2003

306. Why is it now Hallen’s shop? maybe Hallen divorced Hale

Note: Visit Lin’s mother. She’s a good woman.

October, 2003

307. Why does Katie want to hold my hand all the time?

because I feel safe with you

When Katie tucked the paper back into Jesse’s pocket, she felt another

piece of paper, a smaller piece that was cut in half. She took the letter out

and sat down beside Jesse. Even though she couldn’t make sense of the

one-half, she read it anyway through a full blown sob.

End of Part 3

www.tonyjortiz.com

myfriendsaredeadpeople.blogspot.com

368

The full inscription found on Quil’s home:

Unit hollowk

Rank - Title-Race Name

<Age>

<><><><><><><><><>

Rank Z - General-Ubolo Heloe C.

<1EnT2299-2EnT2332-present>

Rank Y - Halloween Lieutenant General-Goblin Rara I.

<1EnT2415-present>

Rank Y - Hollowk Lieutenant General-U Myapeck T.

<BoRn2397-present>

Rank X - Captain-S Oso R.

<BoRn2401-present>

Rank W - First Chief Warrant-U Mewin J.

<BoRn2388-present>

Rank V - Second Chief Warrant-U Meek J.

<BoRn2391-present>

Rank U - Sergeant Major-U Booler Z.

<BoRn2395-present>

Rank U - Magic Command Sergeant-U Goss A.

<BoRn2370-present>

Rank R - Tactic Command Sergeant-U Exile B.

<BoRn2409-present>

Rank P - Haunt Corporal-S Danjee K.

<BoRn2409-present>

Rank P - First Line Sergeant-S Popul L.

<BoRn2412-present>

Rank G - Private Pumpkin-S Bello M.

<BoRn2406-present>

369

Rank G - Private Scream-U Ion O.

<BoRn2410-present>

Rank G - Private Commander-U-S

<varies-present>

Rank F - First Line Hollowk-U-S

<varies-present>

Rank E - Private Hollowk-U-S

<varies-present>

Rank D - Chosen-U-S

<varies-present>

Rank A - Consolidated-U-S

<varies-present>

<><><><><><><><><>

Rank Y - Chief Katie Commander P-Pel Kelical Low P.

<1EnT2399-present>

Rank X - Bellnicsi Jack-Sorskis Tee H.

<1EnT2330-2EnT2332-present>

Rank X - Backup Bellnicsi Jack-Quelix Warlock Evan R.

<1EnT2321-2EnT2332-present>

<><><><><><><><><>

Rank Y - Chief Katie Commander P-PK Low P. <1EnT2399-present>

Rank X - Bellnicsi Jack-Sorskis Abe H. <1EnT2400-present>

Rank X - Backup Bellnicsi Jack-Quelix Warlock Evan R. <1EnT2430-present>

commission

R Z - General-Ubolo Heloe C. <commands & is responsible for all Ranks and war black prints>

R Y - Halloween Lieutenant General-G Rara I. <updates General on current halloween events,

economy, and future halloween governments> <confides all Jack investigations to General>

<unaware of Unit Hollowk & Descendants due to probable contacts with Jack, halloweens, and

370

humans> <secures & guards confidential information> <scouts & evaluates war terrain for better

usage> <identifies & adjusts any dysfunctions in selected ground stations for war operations>

R Y - Hollowk Lieutenant General-U Myapeck T. <moderates & oversees Unit Hollowk>

<advises General of progress & disturbances among divisions> <advises Halloween Lieutenant

General of ample Jack information> <does not inform on any matter regarding Ottagga or

Descendants>

R X - Captain-S Oso R. <carries out General’s plans> <selects & prepares ready Chosens, who

have graduated from S1 & S2, to become Private Hollowks, medical crew, or unit positions>

<demonstrates proper rank addresses to lower rank> <divides birth-entries into Chosen-U-S &

Consolidated-U-S> <appoints candidates among qualified Private Hollowks to be part of the

Consolidated Officers>

R W - First Chief Warrant-U Mewin J. <assists Captain in commissioning future Private

Hollowks>

R V - Second Chief Warrant-U Meek J. <officer of all Corporal Commanders> <supervises,

designs, builds, & repairs all structures and landscapes in Battlefield Hollowk>

R U - Sergeant Major-U Booler Z. <seeks all mother halloweens in West-East-North-South

Wikitch & West-East-North-South Earelavon for monthly reports> <observes and gives orders to

Magic & Tactic Command Sergeants> <reports to the Captain of all developments in all necessary

fields>

R U - Magic Command Sergeant-U Goss A. <manages magic control in Battlefield Hollowk>

<treats all medical crisis with medical crew> <high degree of magical knowledge>

R R - Tactic Command Sergeant-U Exile B. <researches & plans ground & aerial tactics within 2

miles of Core K.P.> <recruits tactic assistance and maintains 5 operational Uboian or Skeletasaltis

Tactors>

371

R P - Haunt Corporal-S Danjee K. <guides, prepares, engages in, and instructs all Private

Hollowk divisions on Battlefield Hollowk> <assists First Line Sergeant>

R P - First Line Sergeant-S Popul L. <leads all division in First Line>

R G - Private Pumpkin-S Bello M. <a top Rank Private Hollowk in all fields> <designs and

improves warfare apparel>

R G - Private Scream-U Ion O. <commands & instructs Private Hollowk divisions, H1 & H2, &

Chosens in S1 & S2> <serves & assists First Line Sergeant & Sergeant Major>

R G - Pot. Corporal Commander-U-S <carries out magical war tactics near Battlefield Hollowk>

<possesses high skeletasaltis or uboian magic & exhibits Haunt Corporal potential>

R F - First Line Hollowk-U-S <obeys Rank G-Z> <has passed classes H1 & H2> <stations in First

Line>

R E - Private Hollowk-U-S <obeys Rank F-Z> <has passed classes S1 & S2 and met all Chosen

requirements>

R D - Chosen-U-S <recently born with potential to become a future First Line Hollowk>

<learns Lower & Upper Division Halloween History> <passes Rose’s Descendants Test> <reaches

12.1212 S-MPR & 14.1414 S-HPR> <engages in audits of divisions H1 & H2> <learns proper

addresses of each rank>

R A - Consolidated-U-S <newborn contains no magic or fails to meet Chosen standards>

<must be trained to reach the standards>

<><><><><><><><><>

372

R Y - Chief Katie Commander P-Pel Low P. <advises General or Lieutenant General on any

essential or nonessential news involving Descendant K.P.> <spots any life-threatening

developments and reports to General> <handles on-the-spot critical decisions regarding

Descendant’s safety> <thoroughly investigates any Descendant-related evidence> <unaware of

Unit Hollowk due to probable contacts with Jack, halloweens, or humans>

R X - Bellnicsi Jack-Sorskis Tee H. <deploys Bellnicsi>

R X - Backup Bellnicsi Jack-Quelix Warlock Evan R. <backup in the event that Bellnicsi Jack-

Sorskis Tee H. dies at practice>

<> WANTED FOR BREAKING HOLLOWK CONTRACT <>

R Y - Ex-Halloween Lieutenant General-T Lorseria L. <a high rank Hollowk, more powerful

than a typical tortic> <no longer in service> <fled without warning and is condemned to death>

<may be operating secretly with the head of the new halloween government>

<during the HOLLOWK OTTAGGA WAR, if the ex-Halloween Lieutenant is encountered,

report at once to any upper Rank before taking manners in own claws> <General-Ubolo Heloe C.

will handle all affairs with the ex-Lieutenant and kill him without remorse>

373

The complete ingredients for Kay’s Repel Shield:

Repel Shield

ingredients for 2

<foul smell can reach up to 1 mile>

<can also remove dry skin and maintain healthy and natural tone>

ingredients

pumpkin seeds

1 onion, minced

1/7½ pound of butter

6½½ pounds of 1 month old missal cheese

frozen arborio rice

fungus broccoli

2 mildewed yellow and green turnips

5 ten-pound molded pumpkins

year in preparation

<grow pumpkin patch>

<grow turnip patch>

day in preparation

<crush pumpkin seeds>

directions :follow precisely:

<shred onion and boil until liquefied>

<add butter and cheese>

<stir with a long stick for 20 days or Swirk it for 11 seconds>

<add rice, stir slowly: DO NOT SWIRK: the rice will absorb most of the

contents of the pumpkin seeds, butter, and cheese>

<drain the liquid into a wooden bowl> <the bowl should be big enough to

only be half full when all the liquid filters in> <let set for 5 seconds>

<split the 2 turnips in half and scrape the insides> <the root should be

shorter than a claw and the top should not be golden or purple> <mellow

the creamy flesh inside by cooking until a heavy simmer> <add the

contents from inside the wooden bowl, stir for 10 days or Swirk for 5½

seconds> <this will rid the sweet peppery taste>

374

<count to 10 after the stir, then directly proceeding, stir with the head of

the broccoli with fungus, then flick the accumulated contents inside an iron

bowl> <repeat process until nothing is left in the pot> <this will get rid of

the unwanted stench>

freeze the contents for 17½ seconds, then reheat on a medium fire or

high burner> <a professional Haunt Cook can Heliobel for 1½

milliseconds>

<puree the molded pumpkin flesh (with white mold) by a uboian or

skeletasaltis weighing 2 tons (good luck) or Cruelop 4 times in 3 second

intervals> <mix gently with the hot substance> <spread immediately over

skin> <the longer it sets, the less pumpkin & turnip stench>

375

A magnification of Captain-S Oso R.’s list of some modern and

primitive halloween’s S-MPR’s:

Samhain - Magic Potential Range

1.11 <Liosellions, Crowsks, Mons Mummies, Spectacalons, Recktails> 1.11

2.22 <Blackian Vampires, Quebellion Hews, Sealons> 2.22

3.33 <Rethos, Bluian Vampires, Biffle Warlocks, Sarsca> 3.33

4.44 <Yslas, Zuvadems, Murf Goblins, Fopen Mummies, Swellons> 4.44

5.55 <Wilarchike Witches, Mauks, Taz Mepians, Weegals> 5.55

6.66 <Lova Gremlins, Morcal Sarscas, Rospins, Melkian Gargoyles> 6.66

7.77 <Jackal Werewolves, Quelix Warlocks, Hewkels, Hickstans> 7.77

8.88 <Babel Gargoyles, Kion Gargoyles, Hellgon Werewolves, Sorskis> 8.88

9.99 <Sorlidiansorbins, Teegal Goblins, Minical Werewolves, Minalips> 9.99

10.1010 <Kitis Skeletis, Redian Vampires, Welchick Witches> 10.1010

11.1111 <Wiskchickian Witches, Malicauht Skeletis, Pel Kelicals> 11.1111

12.1212 <Skeletasaltis, Welgos, Nabulkites> 12.1212

13.1313<Tortics, Skeletasaltis (Oso. R.), Bredock Goblins>13.1313

14.1414 <Hana Ghouls, Uboians> 14.1414

15.1515 <De-moan Demons, Tortic (Lorseria)> 15.1515

16.1616 <Ozmapels, Hanalin Ghouls, Binards, Yslasmaskians> 16.1616

17.1717 <Skool Skeletis, Skeletasaltis (Kay R.)> 17.1717

18.1818 <Samhers, Beltane Goblin-Domgiums> 18.1818

19.1919 <Ubolos> 19.1919

20.2020 <Earelavons> 20.2020

21.2121 <Mersa-Hewkels, Melflins> 21.2121

22.2222 <Torticalists, Wikitch Welks> 22.2222

376

Other SGC employment opportunities:

Samhain Chief Accountant

Daily salary: 870 CC’s

Requirements: twenty human years in auditing + a human degree

concentrated in either mathematics, accounting, personal finance, public or

business administration + ten human semester hours of accounting courses or

a Certified Public Accountant certificate or a Certified Internal Auditor at

Psyclin 1436Sc

Manager of Samhain Department of Candy

daily salary:500 CC’s

Requirements: human background in Management, Base Contracts,

Operations, & Logistics + a minimum of four days of experience in

samhain candy facilities + Crying Union membership (preferred, but not

required) + consent to undergo a security background investigation

Candy Auditor & Patroller

daily salary:300 CC’s

Requirements: a human degree in accounting or related fields + at

least two days of experience as a Night Watcher + twenty years of

experience in the human police force, Army, or Navy

Wikitch Curse Magician

daily salary:990 CC’s

Requirements: must be a welchick and wiskchickian witch + ability to

conjure the following languages: German, English, Spanish, Chinese,

Japanese, Norwegian, Arabic, Bulgarian, Czech, Danish, Estonian,

Korean, & Russian + ability to counter a 48% or higher Binlisac

377

The entire Bay Pirate menu:

Bay Pirate Bay Pirate Bay Pirate Bay Pirate Bay Pirate Bay Pirate

[\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./]

MENU SLICING & DICING [\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./]

Keeper of the eye patch vampires Keeper of the eye patch vampires

Entrees

All barrels & plates are given a nasty side order from the dock, and a choice

of finger fries, creepy fruit, and ½ Candy Corn

Graveyard Breakfast_____________________________________ 4 CC’s

Melted cheddar cheese and smothered eggs. Served with Melflin Muffins and

two decapitated finger sausages with your choice of chocolate pancakes,

burnt bacon, tombstone potatoes, or goblin vomit

Flabby Eye Omelet_______________________________________ 4 CC’s

A barrel of four eggs, filled with olives, gargled spit, chewed tomatoes,

crunchy bell peppers, Swiss cheese, and Chocolate Balls. Drizzled with

mozzarella and served with a Melflin Muffin, Gravy Pork Loin, two Dirt Toasts,

or a Chocolate Roll

My Messy Sirloin _______________________________________ 5 CC’s

56 ounce broiled Wisk Sirloin, topped with roasted and shredded artichoke

and your choice of pure chocolate fresh from Witch Bakery in Ireland.

Specially flavored by top Bay Pirate Chef, seasoned with sugar cubes and

fresh basil, and brined with an earthworm pasta and gorilla armpit sweat

Gravestone Pizza_______________________________________ 3 CC’s

Crispy crust, giant sausages, brown bell peppers, chilly tomato sauce

blended with rich Caramel. Sprinkled with moldy cheddar cheese.

Swampy Cereal________________________________________ 3 CC’s

Overcooked oatmeal or burnt flakes. Dipped in brown sugar, garlic butter,

melted Gummy Worms, and chocolate ice cream. Lined with weedy celery,

crusty snot, and lettuce ribs

Beltane Waffle_________________________________________ 3 CC’s

Your choice of burnt, crispy, or droopy Belgian waffle. Served with a second

choice of Sour Teeth, Veil Bites, and Chunks

Black Cat Popcorn Balls___________________________________ 1 CC

378

Buttery popcorn, glazed with Maple Walnut and melted dark chocolate,

designed with Apple Cakes and powdery sugar

Stuffed Pumpkin Bell Pepper_______________________________ 2 CC’s

A sizzling green pepper, stuffed with lean ground beef right off the cauldron

burner and seasoned with a cup of sugar

Popped Eye Balls_________________________________________ 1 CC

Black olives spread over a cold dish of burnt seaweed, icy milk, and shredded

mozzarella

Dead Insects Delight_____________________________________ 2 CC’s

Fried boneless chicken, dipped with Milk Chocolate, a variety of green

peppers and chucked with fat potatoes the size of a gargoyle’s toe

Barbecued Gargoyle Arms_________________________________ 3 CC’s

Juicy chicken wings, glazed in vanilla and chocolate buttercream, then

sprinkled with coconuts and almonds. Served with your choice of 1 CC of

candy

Bredock Goblin Steak____________________________________ 5 CC’s

Served with a barrel of Melkian Chocolate and a cauldron of solidified

potatoes. Splashed with cheesy sauce and a crunched 15-ounce tenderloin

Scrapped Lamb________________________________________ 4 CC’s

2 pound lamb flesh, served freshly after kill. Dumped in Milk Chocolate, gravy,

and toast crumbles

Halloween-Style Fired Ribs________________________________ 5 CC’s

A friendly cauldron of tender spinach artichoke on the grill, with a side dish

of sliced and diced chicken breast and a 26 ounce slab of ribs

Scary Sand-witches

All sand-witches are served with a cauldron of either Milk or Vanilla

Chocolate, and a choice of Potato Worms and Flesh Bone Ribs

Cheeseburger_________________________________________ 3 CC’s

Gargoyle Deluxe Burger__________________________________ 4 CC’s

Vegetarian Burger______________________________________ 3 CC’s

Skin Sand-witch________________________________________ 3 CC’s

Smoky Ghost Turkey_____________________________________ 3 CC’s

Skin and Ham__________________________________________ 3 CC’s

Brittle Mouth Sand-witch__________________________________3 CC’s

Soups From The Black Sea

All soups are served with a barrel of salad and baked bread

379

Bloody Lake___________________________________________ 2 CC’s

Simmering red licorice, onions, olive oil, and Black River

Brain Afloat___________________________________________ 2 CC’s

Scrambled eggs, squeezed on Caramel and pink dye floating on top of a

cauldron of chowder

Golden Soup___________________________________________ 2 CC’s

A treasure of vegetables, layered with melted cheese and leaves

Slobbery Corn Soup_____________________________________ 2 CC’s

Tender, steaming corn, pico, vegetable sauce, basil, raw beans, mushrooms,

ripe plums, and brown sugar

Killer Appetizers

Shattered Chips_________________________________________ 1 CC

Deep fried chips with swampy salsa and melted cheddar cheese

Bond Fire Artichoke_____________________________________ 3 CC’s

Soft artichokes, spilled with steaming tartar sauce, complimented by mild

sauce, Chocolate Moose, and Sour Punch Dust, sprinkled on a sour cream

barrel

Fruit Cauldron Galore____________________________________ 2 CC’s

Chopped pineapples, Cursed Apples, Eyeball Watermelons, Monkey Bananas,

and Ghost Melons

Barbecued Gargoyle Wings________________________________ 4 CC’s

Hot wings with a cauldron of salad grass and Chewy Hat treasures and a ring

of bloated banana pills

Wimpy Skeletis Shrimp Cocktail____________________________ 3 CC’s

Tequila shrimp with a cauldron of your choice of melted Brittle Mouths,

Lemon Squeezers, or a barrel of Honey Marshmallows and molasses

Dark Hour Desserts

Welchick Chocolate Cookies_______________________________ 2 CC’s

Cheesecake Spill_______________________________________ 2 CC’s

Claw of Ice Cream________________________________________1 CC

(vanilla, chocolate, strawberry)

Heart Strawberry Pie_____________________________________ 2 CC’s

Wiskchickian Apple Matter________________________________ 2 CC’s

From The Dock

Bat Biscuits and Muddy Gravy _______________________________ 1 CC

380

Fruit Cup with Bloody Yogurt ________________________________ 1 CC

Polly Wanna Cracker ______________________________________ 1 CC

Chandelier Popcorn ______________________________________ 1 CC

Chocolate Roll __________________________________________ 1 CC

Flesh Bone Ribs _________________________________________ 1 CC

Melflin Muffins __________________________________________ 1 CC

Coffin Danish ___________________________________________1 CC

Eye Grapes _____________________________________________ 1 CC

Pineapple Squeal ________________________________________ 1 CC

Orange Pumpkin _________________________________________ 1 CC

Steamed Veggy Guts ______________________________________ 1 CC

Alive Tree Broccoli _______________________________________ 1 CC

Crispy Fungus Salad______________________________________ 1 CC

Mushy Pears ___________________________________________ 1 CC

Apple Worms ___________________________________________ 1 CC

Monkey Banana _________________________________________ 1 CC

Cursed Apple ___________________________________________ 1 CC

Eyeball Watermelon______________________________________ 1 CC

Gnats In A Banana ________________________________________ 1 CC

Warm Pretzel___________________________________________ 1 CC

Witchy Carrots__________________________________________ 1 CC

Prickly Pickles__________________________________________ 1 CC

Knifed Eggs_____________________________________________ 1 CC

Black Eye Toast __________________________________________ 1 CC

Ghost Melon ____________________________________________ 1 CC

Tortilla Flap ____________________________________________ 1 CC

(3 flour, wheat, or corn tortillas)

Smelly Beverages

Blue Bird Coffee _________________________________________ 1 CC

Plank Cappuccino with a stick of cinnamon _____________________ 1 CC

Maid Witch _____________________________________________ 1 CC

Beer Belly _____________________________________________ 1 CC

Heated Lemonade Nights ___________________________________ 1 CC

Snowy Hot Chocolate - clawful of powdered sugar ________________ 1 CC

Ice Tea ________________________________________________ 1 CC

Chilled or Heated Halloween Juice ____________________________ 1 CC

apple, orange, mango, grapefruit, pineapple, prune – dumped with a cup of

Milk Chocolate

381

Light Fright _____________________________________________ 1 CC

Ghost Ginger ___________________________________________ 1 CC

Bloody Mary ____________________________________________ 1 CC

Hissing Shakes __________________________________________ 1 CC

(vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, banana, apple)

Apple Cider_____________________________________________ 1 CC

Acid Milk______________________________________________ 1 CC

Black River_____________________________________________ 1 CC

Eerie Cold Chocolate______________________________________ 1 CC

Parrot Sweet____________________________________________ 1 CC

Seven Bloods___________________________________________ 1 CC

Spidery Lemon__________________________________________ 1 CC

Witch Thirst____________________________________________ 1 CC

Witch Brew Merlot________________________________________ 1 CC

Mountain Water_________________________________________ free

[\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./[]\./]

382

The first two pages of Halloween’s Most Beautiful (shown to Jesse

during his Jack O’ Games’ interview):

HALLOWEEN’S MOST BEAUTIFUL 2447 PAGE 1 & 2

Woman From Brazil 99 Katie Pundeff 88 Coco Sums 88 Bell Crim 87 Hoo Jai 86

Brooke Palla 80 Debbie 79 Dianne Foster 79 Veil White 79 Kathleen Gobbles 78

1) “WOMAN FROM BRAZIL”

photograph taken by a spice merchant. HH CopyrightHD2378

Photo: She is dressed in a brown silk sari embellished with traditional

embroideries. Her body is lavished with gold and silver bangles and anklets, purple

gem earrings, and a simple apple-quart pendant necklace. The foreground is a

Colaba market in southern Mumbai.

NATURAL BEAUTY: 99

The photograph of the infamous “woman from Brazil” first appeared among the

halloween community in HD 2378. In “HY 1930", a human Mumbai resident took

notice of a stunning Indian amidst a populace crowd of shoppers and took a picture

of her. To this day this is the only valid evidence of her existence. The original

photograph is kept locked up in the cursed vaults of the Veil of Time Museum in

Kilkenny, Ireland.

She is best known for her flawless beauty, long life, and possessing the

Joriylalsecotol. Though gorgeous, she is listed as one of the top five feared

halloweens in modern times.

HALLOWEEN: unknown

HAIR COLOR: brown

EYE COLOR: brown

SKIN COLOR: brown

HEIGHT: 5'8"

AGE: human year 18-22

NATIONALITY: Indian

SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): unknown

383

PERSONALITY: unknown

WORST FEATURE(S): none

LAST SEEN: Mumbai, India

DAYS AT NUMBER 1: since first edition

DAYS ON TOP 10: since first edition

BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT(S): living untold

BEST DESCRIPTION: “Alien”-Such Johnson, HD 2420

2) KATIE PUNDEFF

photograph taken by CryGrowl. HH CopyrightHY2445

Photo: She is gowned in a vintage welchick robe made from human hands.

However, the all-black fabric is created by halloween claws. She wears a basic witch

hat and her left wrist supports a relatively large digital watch. She is waiting her turn

to read the stadium’s check-in proclamation.

NATURAL BEAUTY: 88

Katie’s festival debut was at the America Festival in HD 2445, where she stood

up for the menala, Kala Kel, in the Jack O’ Games quarterfinals. Sometimes

outgoing, and sometimes jittery and shy, the fifteen year old can sure spin the

heads of halloweens. If she had registered in Miss Wilarchike 2447, she would have

won, and not be a wilarchike. Her history is unknown, but her knowledge of

halloween history is well-known. What sets her apart is the combination of beauty

and intelligence.

HALLOWEEN: welchick witch

HAIR COLOR: black

EYE COLOR: brown

SKIN COLOR: brown

HEIGHT: 5'6"

AGE: human year 15-16

NATIONALITY: unknown, possibly Latin American

SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): Spanish, English, Portuguese

PERSONALITY: exuberant, courageous, modest, shy

WORST FEATURE(S): scars

384

LAST SEEN: Africa Festival

DAYS AT NUMBER 2: 1

DAYS ON TOP 10: 2

BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT(S): Escaping the Morocco Mountains. Winning the 7:33

Monster Mash’s “I Know More Halloween History Than You!”

BEST DESCRIPTION: “Life-changing beauty”-Jesse Jayden, HD 2447

HALLOWEEN’S MOST BEAUTIFUL 2447 PAGE 1 & 2

Woman From Brazil 99 Katie Pundeff 88 Coco Sums 88 Bell Crim 87 Hoo Jai 86

Brooke Palla 80 Debbie 79 Dianne Foster 79 Veil White 79 Kathleen Gobbles 78

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