Liar Liar (9 page)

My heart pounding, I ran out onto the driveway. I've got to get away from here, I decided. I've got to get away and think.

I took off, running across front lawns. It was a hot, smoggy L.A. night. The air felt heavy and wet. I was already sweating. My shoes thudded over the perfectly trimmed lawns.

A Jeep rolled past, music blaring out the window. Its headlights rolled over me as it passed.

Normal. Everything normal.

Max's house came into view on the other side of the long, low hedges. Maybe Max is home, I thought. Maybe I'll stop in and see what's up with him. Try to talk to him. Maybe he can help me figure out what's really going on.

I ducked through the spot in the hedge that I always use. The backyard was dark. One terrace light on at the garage. The house was dark, too.

No one home, I decided. I wiped sweat off my forehead. Despite the heat of the night, I felt chilled. The back of my neck tingled. I'm just tense, I decided.

I started back toward the street but stopped when I heard a sharp yip. I turned and saw Flash, the O'Connors' Dalmatian, come trotting across the grass.

“Flash!” I called. I was glad to see him. I'd known Flash since he was a puppy.

The O'Connors live across the street. Sometimes when they go on vacation, we take Flash to our house. “Hey, Flash—how's it going?”

The dog stopped suddenly, a few feet from me. He began sniffing the air furiously. His ears perked straight up.

“Hey—Flash?” I called. I knelt down and motioned for him to come get some hugs. “Here, boy. Come on, boy.”

To my surprise, the dog lowered his head—and started to snarl.

“Hey—” I jumped to my feet.

Flash pulled back his lips, revealing two rows of sharp teeth. He snarled menacingly, his entire body arched, tense.

“Flash—it's me!”

With a furious growl, the big dog leaped at me.

I dodged to the side. Lost my balance. Slid on the grass. Landed hard on my side.

The snarling dog turned. Eyes red. White drool making the sharp teeth glisten.

He uttered another angry growl. Leaped hard. Lowered his head—and sank his teeth into my arm.

I let out a howl of pain and tried to roll away.

But the dog was too heavy, too strong.

Pain shot down my arm, my entire side.

With a groan I reached up both arms and grabbed the dog around the neck. I shot my hands forward, struggling to pull the furious Dalmatian off me.

He snapped his jaws angrily, snarling, clawing at me.

I held on to his neck. Held on tight, trying to push him away.

And then suddenly he uttered a high, soft cry. Like the mew of a cat.

Flash's red eyes appeared to dim. He backed off me, staggered back. He raised his head and opened his mouth wide in a high, shrill howl. A howl of pain.

I rolled away. Stumbled to my feet, gasping for breath, rubbing my throbbing arm.

And I saw the white fur on Flash's neck. Saw it blacken. Saw the red handprints on the dog's bare skin.

And then Flash uttered a choking sound. A gurgling from deep in his throat.

He gazed up at me—no longer angry, but surprised. Confused.

The fur fell off his body. And his skin peeled. Flaked away.

“Ohhhhhh.” A moan of horror escaped my throat as the dog toppled onto its side.

It dropped heavily onto the grass and didn't move again.

And its skin—its skin and fur—melted away as I stared down at the lifeless form.

“No!” I cried. I knelt down and grabbed the dog in my hands. “Flash! Flash!”

His skin peeled off in my hands. Warm, wet chunks of skin.

I gagged. Jumped away, frantically wiping my hands on my jeans.

The dog's skin all melted away until I was staring at the gray skeleton. Shimmering in the light from the low half moon, gray rib bones curling up from the grass. And an eyeless, silvery dog skull, jaw open in a silent cry.

I did this!

The words rang in my ears.

I did this to Flash!

No. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to believe it.

Holding my hands over my ears, I turned and ran. Ran without seeing. Ran without thinking.

The dog's last pitiful howl repeated in my ears. I kept running as if trying to escape from it, to escape from the sound in my own head.

I don't know how long I ran. I suddenly found myself on Rodeo Drive. The classy shops were all closed. The sidewalks were empty, except for a few window-shoppers, peering into the brightly lit store windows.

I stopped running. I was drenched in sweat, my hair matted to my head. My T-shirt stuck to my body. My chest ached from running for so long.

I leaned in a doorway and gazed down the street. It all looked normal to me. The shops, the restaurants. The same as always.

I stepped away from the building when I heard shouts. Angry, excited shouts. Across Wilshire Boulevard, a block away.

I crossed Wilshire, followed the voices—and found myself on a street lined with small stores. They were all closed. The sidewalk was deserted—except for the shouting men.

Three L.A. cops surrounded a young man. Two of the cops held the guy tightly by his arms. The third cop stood in front of the guy, blocking my view of him.

What's going on? I wondered.

I ducked behind the trunk of a huge palm tree and watched from my hiding place.

The cops were wearing uniforms I'd never seen before. Uniforms that looked like spacesuits, shiny silver and padded, and helmets just like the ones astronauts wear. Weird.

“Looks like we caught one,” one of the cops said.

“Yep. He's an Intruder,” another one said excitedly. “I've never seen one—have you?”

“No. But let's keep this quiet,” he answered. “We don't want the neighborhood in a panic.”

I moved in the shadows. Ducked behind another tree to get a closer look.

Finally I could see the young man. He had long, blond hair. Wild, blue eyes. A tattoo snaking along one arm.

He was struggling to free himself from the two cops who held him. Bending and twisting. He started screaming at the top of his lungs, his hair flying up, head tossed back.

“I'm not an Intruder!” he shrieked. “I'm not! You've got the wrong guy!”

The cops weren't buying it. “Calm down,” one of them said. “Save your strength.”

“Why fight?” the other cop shouted. “You don't have much time.”

“Give up.”

Instead, the man lurched forward with a furious cry, struggling to burst free.

The two cops lost their hold for a moment. Crying out, they made a wild grab for him. And ripped off the man's sport shirt.

One of the cops screamed. Another one shut his eyes and turned away.

I gaped in amazement at the man's bare chest. I could see his heart pumping inside him … see his stomach churning and bobbing … see blue blood pulsing through his veins, his guts twisting and curling.

I could see right through him!

Suddenly the man doubled over. He uttered gasp after gasp. The light faded from his eyes. He hugged himself tightly. “The pain …” he moaned. “Ohhhh, help me. I can't stand the pain.”

His screams and cries rang in my ears. My head started to throb.

I shrank back. Pressed myself against the tree. I shut my eyes and covered my face with my hands.

It was all true, I realized.

My twin had told the truth about Intruders. He had told the truth about me.

I didn't belong here. I was an Intruder, too.

And in a day or two … in a day or two …

I'd be gone. Forever.

The cops shoved the poor Intruder into the back of a van. The van sped off quietly. No flashing lights. No siren.

I was the only one on the sidewalk. I felt paralyzed, frozen with fear.

How could I save myself? How could I return to my own world before I faded away?

My head felt ready to burst. My panic made my heart leap around in my chest.

How did I get here in the first place? I asked myself.

The portal … the portal …

“Whoa!” I let out a cry. My twin had already told me the answer. It was so simple!

Max's swimming pool! That's where he and I had seen each other for the first time. That's the portal between our two worlds!

I had just been there a few minutes ago, in Max's backyard. I was so close … so close to returning home … and didn't even realize it.

Yes!

I pumped both fists in the air. I let out a happy shout.

I turned and made my way back across Wilshire Boulevard. Back down Rodeo Drive. I knew what I had to do. It was so clear, so easy.

I'll return to Max's backyard, I told myself. And I'll jump into the pool. Clothes and all. I'll dive down … swim underwater … through the portal … swim back to my world.

I'm so lucky, I decided.

I figured out how to return home before I got too weak. Before I started to fade away. Before the pain became unbearable.

So lucky …

I was just a block from Max's house, walking fast, swinging my arms, when the black-and-white police cruiser pulled up beside me.

“Stop right there,” a gruff voice barked.

I froze. A cold shudder shook my body.

Panic choked my throat. My knees felt about to collapse.

They know!

They know I'm an Intruder!

How did they find out?

A round-faced cop with a flat buzz cut and tiny, round black eyes leaned his head out of the patrol car. “Where you headed, son?” His tiny eyes studied me up and down.

“H-home,” I choked out.

He frowned and kept his eyes locked on me. “You live around here? Or are you out sight-seeing?”

“No. I live down there.” I pointed. I told him the address.

“What's your name, son?” The radio in the car squawked loudly. A low voice on the radio was calling out numbers. “Do you have any ID?”

“ID? N-no,” I stammered. I reached for my back pocket. “I left my wallet at home. But I'm Ross Arthur. My Dad is Garrison Arthur. He's with Mango Pictures.”

“We don't need your family history,” the cop's partner said from behind the wheel. “You shouldn't be walking around at night, kid.”

He turned to the other cop. “Let's go. We've got a 308 on Sunset.”

They sped away without saying good-bye.

I stood there trembling, watching the patrol car whirl around the corner. I hugged myself to stop the shaking. Cold sweat clung to my forehead, my cheeks.

A close call, I knew.

I have to get out of here, I told myself. I won't be safe for a second—until I get back to my own world.

I took off running. I didn't stop until I got to Max's house.

I was halfway up the front lawn when I saw the dog skeleton poking up from the grass near the hedge. The pile of bones gleamed dully under the moonlight. The ugly sight made my stomach lurch.

Poor Flash.

I've got to get home before I harm anything else, I told myself.

Max's house was dark except for a porch light. Still no one home.