Something to shield us from this beast.
But the giant metal gate that guards Sears department store looms ahead of us. Every store around us is gated. Locked tight.
We’re in a dead end. Trapped.
No way out.
I remember how I felt the instant before I defeated the big, bad, odorous, evil Blarg: terrified but confident. Frightened but alive.
That’s how I feel now.
Brave.
Stupidly brave.
This is my moment.
The moment of Jack Sullivan, Post-Apocalyptic Action Hero.
The Wormungulous will be upon us in seconds. Its massive form is barrelling forward, turning everything in its path to dust. And I can’t let my friends fall into the category of ‘dust.’ That’s my biggest fear. That’s what keeps me up at night (well, that and thoughts of Selena Gomez – I hope she’s safe somewhere!).
I step toward the beast like some sort of samurai ninja Jedi.
‘Jack, what are you doing?’ June screams.
‘June, Dirk, Quint. Get back,’ I say. ‘Behind me.’
‘I’ll try to open the gate into Sears,’ Dirk says. ‘If you can slow it down, maybe we won’t all die today.’
I nod.
If Dirk gets that gate open, they can get to safety. But if not – they’ll be squished, squashed, splattered. Done-zo.
‘Jack . . .’ June pleads.
‘GO!’ I shout. This feeling of samurai ninja Jedi heroism is totally beating out my feelings of butt-clenching fear, and I raise the dramatics up a notch.
June knows my goofiness. She knows I pretty much stumble and bumble my way through every monster encounter.
I blush. ‘Sorry. Carried away. Just, please? Ah, please, go?’
KRAKA-SMASH!
The Wormungulous rips through the cell phone case kiosk. The walls quake. Glass falls and shatters from the railings above.
At last, June sprints toward Sears.
I stand tall. Blade at my side, like a cool, calm warrior. I can’t take this ferocious, fanged beast head-on. But if I can do some nifty light-saber type moves, I might be able to buy my buds enough time to –
Jagged cracks spread through the floor like ice splintering on the surface of a pond. The Wormungulous’s mouth opens, revealing a fat tongue darting around in the darkness of its gullet.
I take a deep breath.
And then, when the monstrous worm is nearly upon me, so close I can smell the rotten meat on its teeth, so close I can see my reflection in its hundred tiny eyes, I leap to the side. My fingers clench the blade, and I hold it with two hands, arms extended, parallel to the ground, gripping it as tight as I can as the worm blasts past me and the blade cuts into its flesh –
The monster shrieks in pain and its thick tail whips into me, and –
POW!
I slam into the side of the PacSun clothes store. I sag against the gate, then crash to the rubble-covered floor. Looking up, I see Dirk struggling to lift the heavy metal gate to Sears. Quint and June frantically help.
But it won’t budge.
And it’s too late.
The Wormungulous is upon them. The monster’s mouth has closed and its wormy head is lowered, ploughing through the floor.
But then I see it.
The man-monster. He’s rushing toward my friends. Quint spins around, horrified. The man-monster knocks him aside, grabs the gate, and lifts.
That’s the last thing I see.
The worm’s tail lashes me across the face, I’m flung to the floor, and everything goes black.
I slowly blink my eyes open. I’m seeing stars and spots and even four-leaf clovers – it’s like a whole Disney cartoon thing.
No sign of the others. I get to my feet and weave my way toward Sears. The entire front of the store has been destroyed.
I didn’t stop the Wormungulous.
And my friends? Have I lost them?
Wreckage and debris litter the tiled floor. Water rains down from the sprinkler system. Rubble from the ceiling is scattered through the store.
What I spot next makes me go light-headed.
June’s sneakers. The boy sneakers she wears that I love so much. One juts out from beneath a pile of wreckage.
No.
No, no, no.
My friends are buried beneath there. A pile of rubble as big as a February snowdrift.
I begin clawing and tearing at the debris. But it’s all too big. Too heavy. My fingernail snaps as I struggle to lift the massive metal gate that blankets them.
My breath becomes ragged. I feel my eyes well up with tears.
And I smell – I smell –
I smell that pungent aftershave.
I spin around to see it. Gigantic and towering. The man-monster . . .
- The Man-Monster -
I don’t draw my blade. I don’t run. I just stand there. And then, still having said nothing, I turn around and continue trying to pry my friends free.
A warm hand grips the back of my neck. The man-monster’s fingers close around my collar and I’m lifted into the air. He gently sets me down a few feet away.
The man-monster begins digging through the rubble, carefully pulling away huge chunks of ceiling. He removes bent and twisted pieces of gate. With one tremendous pull, he lifts the final piece away. And I see them.
My friends. Alive.
A little bloody, a lot dirty – but very much OK.
Relief floods through me. ‘You’re OK!’
June grins as she crawls from the pile and gets to her feet. ‘You’re OK! Why did you just stand out there and try to stare the monster down? What is wrong with you?’
‘I was trying to do a samurai thing.’
‘No more samurai things, Jack.’
Quint stumbles from the rubble and throws