Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins, page 23
“Well, I’ve had quite enough,” Lorrine sighed. “Come along, Margaret. We should go to Biology early, and organize the lab stations for Mr. Berg.”
Maggie thought to herself, I have the weirdest friends, but she went along to Biology with Lorrine anyway.
Luckily, and much to Maggie’s relief, the rest of the school day was pretty uneventful.
Bridgette wanted to tell her all about Holden after school, but Maggie had already put up with a little more of Holden Guarlo than she’d wanted to in one day. It was bad enough that he had embarrassed her in Math class, shook her like a toddler in the drama hall, and had become an instant obsession for her best friend; but as it turned out, he was in two more of her classes as well.
“I missed English this morning, Bridge,” she tried, “I should go back and pick up my work, or I’ll get behind. I’ll call ya later and you can tell me all about him.”
“Oh, all right,” Bridgette sighed, “but he's sooo sweet and he really listens to me and . . . oh, my gosh! Did you see his eyes?”
“Bridge . . . really, I need to go! I'll call you tonight! I promise!”
Bridgette reluctantly nodded and gave Maggie a fake peck on the cheek.
Maggie smiled and shook her head, and then went back inside the school. She wasn’t really that worried about getting behind in English, but decided to see if her teacher had any make up work anyway.
She called her dad and asked him if he would pick her up after he got off work.
It was around four o’clock when Maggie walked out the big double brown doors and sought out a good spot on the deserted school lawn to wait for Nathan.
She was never so relieved that a day was almost over—bizarre, strange, unusual, wacky, off-the-wall—no words seemed to even come close to describing it.
She decided on waiting in the shade of the school marquee, and had just dropped her bag on the lawn when she heard something—a sound surging in and out directly behind her.
She froze. Her heart began to pound. Her breath seized inside her with a gasp. It was back—the strange “whooshing” sound! It was happening again!
“Oh no!” she shouted. Instinctively, she dashed back toward the stone steps, not even pausing to pick up her bag.
As her foot hit the third step from the top, an “internal lasso”, just like the one before, grabbed her abruptly. With a loud whoosh and a pop, she was again standing, dazed and alarmed, in an unfamiliar place.
This time the picture in front of her was much clearer than it had been before—clearer and more frightening. She was in a large meadow, but it wasn't like earlier. It was night this time—dark and eerily quiet.
The still, black canopy above was shredded by literally millions of jagged stars which, by virtue of their numbers, should have been far more illuminating than they were.
Across the field was the scariest looking forest she had ever seen.
All of the trees appeared to be nearly dead and leafless. Their twisted, gnarled, charcoal branches jutted out at odd angles creating a chaotic maze of tangled limbs.
A dense murkiness hung close to the ground, tightly encircling the distorted tree trunks. The muck looked as though it was trying to strangle away any life that the trees might have had left in them.
Behind the forest, a small, crooked mountain protruded up from out of nowhere. It was steep and harsh with a sharp, angry form. The shadows that were cast by the sadistic stars overhead played on its crevices and outcroppings, sending demonic faces rippling across its surface.
The scene was straight out of a horror movie, and as Maggie took it all in, a chilling wave of fear rippled through her body.
She attempted to remain calm, but what she saw next ripped the calmness right out of her and threw it to the low, howling wind.
There was a faint rustling in the mangled trees, and then a loud crash as an enormous two-headed creature burst out and thundered onto the meadow.
“Okay, okay,” Maggie’s eyes widened with terror. “Don’t panic! Two headed . . . two headed . . . not real!”
The creature turned back toward the dark forest and let out a deafening shriek. Slowly, it paced back and forth in front of the twisted trees.
In the piercing starlight, Maggie could see the massive, frightening animal quite clearly. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen or heard of—a huge, mythical-looking beast with a thick, muscular body, resembling an enormous horse, but at least twice a horse's size. It was black and scaly with powerful, long, prancing legs, and a sleek, full, spiked tail. At the top of each swaying reptilian neck was an oblong, hooded head, similar to a king cobra's.
It turned, giving Maggie a full view of one of the heads. It had creepy, glowing, silver slits for eyes, an enormous mouth and gleaming, long, sharp, dripping fangs that gnashed wildly at the hazy air.
The thing hadn’t seen her yet, and she most definitely did not want it to see her—ever! She was next to a large outcropping of rocks, behind which she swiftly ducked. She glanced around the edge of the rocks and watched in horror as a small, furry animal darted out from behind a shrub at the edge of the forest. It twittered about for a bit, but then noticed the monster and froze in its tracks.
The beast sniffed the air, reared up on its hind legs, and one of its snake-like heads swayed backward. Suddenly, as fast as a bolt of lightning, it plunged toward the little animal and snatched it with its twisted fangs.
It threw the furry creature—which was shrieking and thrashing—high into the air and as the tiny animal fell, the beast's jaws snapped on it ferociously, and the shrieking silenced.
Maggie panted, trying not to panic. She was still attempting to convince herself that none of this was really happening.
Cold beads of sweat formed on her forehead and upper lip. She wanted to cry. She wanted to go home. “Someone,” she pleaded quietly, “please . . . please help me!”
Suddenly, a cloaked man burst out from the trees, yelling wildly, and running full-force at the beast. Maggie jumped and slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream.
The animal lunged at the man and one of the powerful jaws snapped loudly, narrowly missing his leg.
Maggie gasped and tried to get herself further behind the rocks, but she failed to see a large tree root that was sticking up out of the ground next to her. As she pulled herself back, she lost her balance and fell over the root, landing with a thud on the wet meadow—right out in the open.
At once, the beast froze. It turned its heads away from the cloaked man and stared across the field. Both heads lowered and sniffed the ground, and then four evil, silver eyes locked their gaze directly on Maggie.
Maggie’s heart pounded so hard, it felt like it was going to burst through her chest. She couldn't catch her breath. She felt like every muscle was being stabbed by hot, sharp needles. Multiple thoughts twisted frantically around in her head, tangling together and piling one on top of another. “Oh, no,” she whimpered, “I’m dead!”
The creature let out another deafening screech. It took two or three slow, deliberate steps toward Maggie, and then broke out into a full, thunderous run across the field.
Every inch of her felt heavy. She tried, but couldn't move. It was as though her mind and her body had disconnected. She just lay on the warm, dank grass, watching as the monster came closer and closer.
“Get up! Run! Run! What’s wrong with you? Ruunnnn!” The cloaked man chased quickly behind the animal, yelling loudly and waving his hands frantically. “Are you crazy? Run!” He raised a gloved arm out in front of himself and shot what looked like long, golden spikes at the rapidly-moving creature.
Several of the spikes glanced off the monster's back, which slowed it down a little, giving Maggie time to finally snap out of her horrified trance. Quickly, she sprang to her feet and started running—hoping to put as much space between her and the animal as possible.
But the situation was only getting worse. She didn't know where she was, so she didn't know where to go.
The rocks wouldn't hide her anymore and it looked as though were the only shelter at all on this side of the field. Additionally, the beast was heading right toward them. The only other cover in sight was the spooky forest across the field, but running toward impending doom didn’t seem like a good option either.
The beast was approaching rapidly.
The man kept up his attempts to slow it down with the spikes, but they didn’t seem to be having an effect any longer.
Maggie heard the monster behind her, and within just a few short seconds, its hot breath was blasting down on the back of her neck.
Instantly, she stopped running and dropped to the ground, curling into a ball. The creature was caught so off guard, that it flew right over her—one of its back legs barely missing her head. She jumped back to her feet. The beast stopped and swung around in front of her and a dripping, fanged mouth bulleted towards her.
Maggie jumped to one side, narrowly escaping its bite as the other head screeched and bolted toward her in the same way as the first. She lunged just as it snapped dangerously close to her right shoulder.
Both heads were now weaving and swaying above her.
She turned to face the beast and realized that it had her right where it wanted. The heads were poised on either side of her—in perfect striking position.
She froze—too panic-stricken to think of anything else to do—and waited for her untimely death.
“What are you doing?” The cloaked man yelled from the middle of the field. “Moooooovve!”
But she couldn't. She just stared at the massive, glimmering heads weaving and swaying high above her, and waited. The creature hissed and then roared loudly again; its stale, hot breath exploded across her face and blasted through her hair. Her eyes shifted from one head to the other, but, the rest of her stayed frozen in place.
“Oh please . . . I'm dead! This is it! Come on body! Please . . . MOVE!” Blinding tears welled in her eyes. “Please . . . .” she whimpered out loud.
Both of the monster's heads reared back—their slit-like eyes glinting in the harsh starlight. Maggie watched as they began their deadly descent, straight towards her.
Time seemed to slow.
“Move!” The man’s voice echoed somewhere in the distance.
The only thing Maggie could hear clearly was her own pounding heart.
The beast's heads weaved downward—their silver, pupil-less eyes wide as their razor-sharp fangs came closer and closer. One of the heads was now only inches away from her—and its jaws were spreading wide.
Finally, and without a second to spare, instinct took over. She bent to the side, almost folding completely in half, and then twisted around so fast that her legs left the ground and pushed her skyward into a perfectly graceful aerial. She flipped in the air, dropped, and rolled across the ground.
One of the monster's heads grazed across her back as she rolled, cutting a long gash in her shirt.
Time zipped back to normal as an ear-splitting, earth-shaking thud sounded behind her, followed by a deafening shriek. She looked back, expecting to see the thing coming toward her again, but it wasn't. It was pounding its enormous hooves wildly on the ground, and bellowing.
It staggered a bit, back and forth, shrieked again, and then dropped hard—sending up a thick cloud of dust—landing right next to where Maggie had stopped rolling.
Quickly, she scrambled backwards to get away from the gigantic scaly animal before its next strike, but oddly, it didn't appear to be moving. It just laid still and quiet in the damp grass.
She scooted back a few more feet, and as she did, what had happened became clear.
Her flip had caused the monster to miss her and instead bite one of its own heads clean off. The creature was dead—its severed head thrashing and flopping uncontrollably across the ground.
“That was unbelievable! Amazing! Unbelievable!” the man yelled as he ran toward her, his black cloak billowing largely behind him. “Are you all right?” He held out a gloved arm and helped her to her feet. “I've never seen anyone escape a rynolt like that! Amazing!” he repeated.
What she saw next almost knocked her back to the ground. She lifted her head and found herself face to face with arguably the most beautiful man she’d ever set eyes on.
“Whoa,” she breathed, and stumbled clumsily.
He was an absolute Adonis—at least six-foot-four, muscular and strong. Dark, wavy hair hung down and rested on his broad shoulders, framing his square, chiseled jaw. As if all of this wasn’t enough, his eyes were completely intoxicating. Maggie couldn’t tell for sure what color they were—only that they were dark—but little flecks of bright red sparkled and flashed across them in the starlight.
As the stranger looked at Maggie, a breathtaking, knee-shaking, glistening white smile grew across his handsome face. He bowed and then lowered down on one knee.
“Your Highness. Please forgive me. I didn't realize . . . What an honor this is for me!”
“Wha?” Maggie was more than a little stunned.
“You are all right, aren't you? How may I be of service, Highness?” He stayed on his knee, but looked up into Maggie’s eyes—awaiting her command.
She was panting heavily, and not just because of the ordeal she had just been through with the freaky two-headed thing. “Wha . . . I mean . . . um . . . who are you?” she stammered, feeling stupid that she couldn't think of anything to say.
He stood up and looked deep into her eyes.
Her cheeks burned and her heart pounded.
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry, I am . . . .”
But before the handsome stranger could finish, there was a sudden whoosh, a flash of blue light, and a loud crack! Maggie was instantly—and quite unwillingly—yanked back to the stone steps of Glenhill High School.
CHAPTER XVII
THE TABLE TALK
"Wait!” Maggie bellowed angrily. “No! No! Nooooo!” She dropped down onto the darkened school steps and buried her head in her hands. “You gotta be kidding me! This is so totally unfair!” she cried.
Just then, she heard the clunking and clattering of her dad’s old sedan, followed by Nathan's frantic, shrieking voice. “Maggie! There you are! Finally! Good grief! Where have you been?
She looked up to see her dad sprinting toward her with a wild and terrified look on his face. He reached the steps so quickly that she wasn’t sure how he’d done it. He grabbed a hold of her and hugged and kissed the top of her head repeatedly.
“Da-ad!” She wriggled out of his clutches. “What are you doing? What’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean, what am I doing,” he yelled loudly. “I’ve been looking for you for over three hours!”
“What?” She knew she shouldn’t be surprised, but she was nonetheless.
“Three hours,” he repeated. “Where've you been?” He eyed her disheveled and tattered appearance and added, “And what the devil have you been doing?”
“Dad, I . . .” She brushed a clump of mud from her ripped T-shirt and fussed with her damp, half-fallen-out ponytail. She couldn’t tell him. He’d never believe it. “I . . . I was . . . um, with some friends. I’m sorry. I musta lost track of time!”
“You lost . . . I can't belie . . . what?” Nathan’s face was red with rage. “You told me to pick you up here! I came to pick you up, and you were nowhere! Now I find you looking like you've been beaten and all you can say is ‘I lost track of time’?” He ran his hand through his floppy hair. “How in the world did you end up looking like this anyway?” He asked, motioning toward her dirty, wet clothing.
Maggie glanced down at her mud-covered jeans. “I . . . uh . . . well . . . we were . . . um. We were just . . . you know, wrestling around on the lawn,” she stammered.
“Wrestling?” Nathan grimaced. “And who exactly is this we you were wrestling with?” His tone was interrogatory. “You and a girl friend . . . or you and a boy friend?”
“Oh, yikes! Come on, Dad!” Maggie protested, “Girls, dad! Really! I . . . I was with Lorrine and Bridgette.”
Nathan's furious expression softened a little. “Lorrine and Bridgette?” he repeated. “Hmm, Lorrine and . . . uh, Bridgette?” Suddenly, he looked very angry again. “Then how do you explain the fact that Bridgette has been with me since 4:30? She's been helping me search for you!”
Maggie sighed disgustedly. She'd been caught, but instead of feeling the slightest bit apologetic, she was mad. She had been through so much in one day, including almost being killed by some freakish animal, and then, just when something nice happened, it was yanked away before it could even get started! Now, to be caught lying to her dad, only because he would never believe the truth? It all seemed to be so below-the-belt, and it made her mad!
“Fine, Dad,” she snapped, “whatever! Why don't you just punish me and get it over with!”
Nathan glared at her. He didn’t want to let on that he was incredibly relieved that she was okay. “Oh, I'm gonna punish you all right.” He pointed emphatically at the car. “March, young lady! We’ll discuss this when we get home!”
“Fine!” She stomped across the lawn, snatched up her book bag from where she had left it laying, and headed for the still-idling sedan. She practically ripped the car door off as she opened it, and then plopped down into the seat and yanked the door back shut with a slam.
The ride home was very tense. Neither of them made a sound. He just drove, and she just stared out the window, fuming.
It's not my fault! She consoled her nagging conscience; I didn't choose to disappear for three hours! And what am I supposed to do? Worry him even more with all this crazy junk?
She glanced sideways at her dad. He looked miserable. In fact, it looked like he was trying not to cry. Maggie's mood slightly shifted from anger and a sense of injustice, to a tiny twinge of concern for what her dad had been through. It occurred to her that he must have been pretty scared when he couldn't find her. Then, to discover her battered and beaten—after three hours, no less—only to be lied to? It was no wonder that he was upset.
