The Carnival of Lost Souls : A Handcuff Kid Novel (31 page)

He dove for the open hatch, and the gaping mouth of the tunnel swallowed him. He clung to the metal rungs of the ladder and climbed down. An unsettling quiet washed over him. The cold unknown of the underside seeped into his bones. Jack pushed back his sleeve and whispered, “Show me how to get to the North Wall.”

The tattoo compass pulsed to life, only this time he was shown the maze; the narrow corners of the labyrinth appeared hovering in the air and an arrow directed him on which turns to take.

Jack navigated through the maze of stone, darting around tight corners, getting closer and closer to the North Wall. His heart raced, and his confidence grew as he fled through the labyrinth. He pretended that he was playing a game, a challenge he accepted and was winning. He could tell by the change in temperature that he was almost to the spot where Boxer and T-Ray were digging the tunnel under the fiery wall above them. He was going to make it. He could feel it. And the next second, Jack slammed into a wall. Not a brick wall, but a muscle-bound, bull-headed, highly agitated wall—a Death Wrangler.

Jack bounced off the creature’s chest and fell backward onto the ground. The creature roared and snatched Jack up off the floor, holding him one-handed in the air close to his hairy snout. His black orbs narrowed. Jack’s own face stared back at him in the reflection of the bull’s eyes.

“Looks like it’s my lucky night,” the guard said.

“You can’t stop me from leaving. It’s Halloween.”

But the creature just snorted and slung Jack over his shoulder. “Not for long,” he said.

“Hey, put me down.” Knowing how close he was to
the North Wall, Jack yelled, “Boxer! T-Ray! Help! Help me! Boxer!”

The Death Wrangler carried him through the maze, and his screams faded into the darkness. Jack checked the tattoo; they were headed toward the Death Wrangler lair and the terrible fighting pit. Once they reached the lair, the Death Wrangler dropped him on the ground and tossed his duffel bag beside him. Another Death Wrangler approached. Jack recognized the creature as the smaller guard that he had seen fighting in the pit weeks before. “Tie him up and throw him into the pit. I will alert the others that a prisoner has been caught.”

“No, I will alert the others. You will stay and mind the child,” the guard said arrogantly, obviously considering the other guard to be his subordinate.

“Put him in the pit. Or you will end up there yourself.” The smaller guard pointed to the great hole in the ground.

“I would gladly fight in the pit, especially if you were my opponent,” the guard said.

“We can make that arrangement.”

Jack clutched his duffel and tried to think of a way out. He felt his heavy stash of handcuffs through the canvas fabric. The larger guard stood near the side of the pit, turned his back on the smaller guard, and peered over the edge. With the guard standing so close to the edge of the pit, Jack saw his one and only chance to escape. He choked up on his bag and slammed it against
the back of the creature’s legs at the knee joint, causing the Death Wrangler to lose his balance, windmill his arms frantically, and fall into the pit. A loud crash followed as the Death Wrangler tumbled into a pile of shields and weapons. He was knocked out cold.

Relieved that he now had only
one
hideous horned creature to face, Jack turned and saw Boxer peek his head out of the maze behind the smaller Death Wrangler. A flood of joy and pride flowed through him. T-Ray and Boxer must have heard him calling to them and had come to his rescue. The remaining Death Wrangler approached Jack, laughing as he came. Puzzled, Jack asked, “What’s so funny?”

The beast peered down at his comrade. “I never liked him. Too arrogant, too confident, and even for our kind, he was annoying. I can’t wait to tell the others how a mere mortal took down a ferocious Death Wrangler. No wonder Mussini wants to keep you.”

Jack glanced at the creature, looking for an opportunity to make a run for it, but the creature sensed his intention. He snatched Jack’s duffel bag and threw it into the pit.

“Hey, why did you do that?” Jack stared down at his duffel. His handcuffs and straitjacket were lost for good.

“Because I can’t let you leave. Tell your friends to come out of hiding, and I won’t hurt any of you. I’ll just return you to Mussini.”

Boxer and T-Ray emerged from the maze. Their
clothes were covered in dirt and sweat. Boxer motioned for Jack to move away from the Death Wrangler. He held a machete, one of the creature’s weapons, in his hand. T-Ray held a shield. Jack swallowed hard. What were they thinking?

“Halloween is the one night that we’re allowed to leave the forest. You can’t change the rules just because Mussini says so!” T-Ray yelled. His eyes blazed. He was done. Done with Death Wranglers. Done with being afraid of his own death.

“You’re right.” The Death Wrangler faced T-Ray. “I can’t stop you from crossing the North Wall, but I can keep you from reaching it until Halloween is over.”

“What did Mussini promise you? Did he bribe you with magic?” Boxer asked to antagonize the guard, distracting him so that Jack could move closer to the exit where Boxer and T-Ray stood.

“We came to get Jack and get out. No more games, no more rules, no more forest,” T-Ray said.

During the speech, the Death Wrangler uncoiled a long leather whip and snapped it in the air. Jack heard the crack of the whip; it was so fast it broke the sound barrier. The whip snapped again, inches from Jack’s head.

Boxer ran to Jack’s side and blocked the Death Wrangler. The whip bit through the air, sending chunks of sediment from the ceiling cascading down on them. A bright splotch of blood appeared on Boxer’s arm where
the whip had torn a hole in his T-shirt. Boxer turned his back on the Death Wrangler, shielding Jack from the whip. Jack and Boxer ran for the cover of the labyrinth. The whip cracked over and over. Jack winced for his friend, the whip tearing into his skin, but Boxer was the strongest kid alive, his heart the size of an elephant’s. Nothing was going to stop him.

The Death Wrangler roared. Boxer turned and faced the beast. The whip clipped his arm. Blood appeared instantly. The whip snapped again, but this time Boxer snatched the thin leather strap from the air and yanked, causing the Death Wrangler to stumble. A tug-of-war followed as the two tried to claim the whip. Blood dripped from Boxer’s clenched fist where the whip cut into his hand. His muscles tensed and the whip flew from the Death Wrangler’s grip. The beast staggered and bellowed, but still advanced.

In a burst of courage mixed with temporary insanity, T-Ray grabbed a torch from the wall, held up his shield, and charged the Death Wrangler. When he came within a few feet of the creature, he used the torch like a spear and drove it at the Death Wrangler’s face. An explosion of sparks filled the air as the creature batted the torch away.

The beast roared. Bits of fur smoked. Furious and blinded by the flame, the Death Wrangler lowered his huge head and wildly charged at T-Ray with his sharp
horns. T-Ray darted out of the way and threw Jack the shield. Jack drew the Death Wrangler toward him, moving at the last second, causing the Death Wrangler to plow headfirst into a stone wall. The beast slumped, staggered, and kneeled. Finally, he fell to the ground in a heap of charred and matted fur.

The boys raced out of the lair and back toward the North Wall.

“We’ve got some bad news.” Boxer sighed; his shoulders slumped, the weight of the underworld becoming too much, even for the strongest kid alive.

“Are you serious?” Jack asked. He couldn’t take it anymore. “How much worse can it get?”

Jack skidded to a halt in front of a huge mound of dirt. They had made major progress in the tunnel. The hole was deep under the wall. Jack ducked his head inside to get a good look, and that’s when he noticed the problem. Thick, black metal bars blocked the tunnel. They must have been buried under the wall when it was constructed, making the forest a literal prison, even from underground. There was no escape. Hopelessly, Jack grabbed the bars with both hands and rested his head against the cold metal.

T-Ray grabbed his shoulder and shook him out of his trance. “Come on. We have to go. He’ll be after us when he wakes up.” T-Ray led the way out of the tunnel back to the surface.

Jack climbed out of the labyrinth, turned around, and stared at the flaming wall. It was over. There were no Death Wranglers, no Amazing Mussini, no Jabber or beautiful Violet. The blazing wall was hypnotic. There was no way through, no way out.

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Jack jumped and jerked around. His heart skipped a beat. Standing before him was a criminal kind—Shepard. “Out for a stroll in the woods?”

“No, we’re trying to get home. What are you doing out here?”

“Don’t worry, kid. I’m not going to stop you,” Shepard said. “It’s every man for himself tonight.”

“I thought you said that you’ve never been across the wall?” Jack was relieved that Shepard wasn’t under Mussini’s orders to bring them back.

“There’s a first time for everything. Ain’t that right, kid?”

Shepard walked toward the wall and then turned back to Jack. “Don’t waste your last chance. Don’t end your life with regrets.” And then Shepard walked right for the burning wall.

“No, Shepard! Don’t do it!” Jack yelled, but Shepard kept going and stepped right into the fire. His screams filled the night sky. His body spun and his arms whirled around, his dark image igniting into a stunning blaze of fire. And then as quickly as he went in, Shepard stepped
back out of the fire. His long leather coat was smoking from the heat but otherwise he was fine. He laughed and pointed at the wall. “This ain’t real, kid. It’s just a trick.” Shepard demonstrated again by reaching his hand into the fire. “I guess Mussini gets the last laugh.”

“Brother.” Jack just shook his head. Shepard waved and stepped through the wall.

“That proves that the dead can walk right through the fire, but what about us?” T-Ray asked. “It’s blazing hot. I’m sweating just standing here. It feels real.”

“It feels like fire,” Jack said. “Mussini is the master in real illusions.” Jack rubbed his arms that only hours before were crawling with snakes.

“What are we going to do now?” Boxer asked.

“We’ve come this far, we can’t quit,” T-Ray said.

“Maybe Shepard’s right and it’s a trick,” Jack said. “Violet said that Mussini would try to trick us. He’s a magician. It’s all he knows.”

“An evil magician,” Boxer said.

Boxer coiled the whip he had taken from the Death Wrangler. “One of us could make a run for it?”

But none of them wanted to be the one. Jack closed his eyes. The fire felt like a warm lake of water luring him closer. He took a step toward the flames and then another one, tentative, but certain. He could do it. His insides felt twisted like his gut was full of hot metal tumblers twisting
in his stomach. It was time to find out what was real in this world and what was fake.

Boxer grabbed his arm, but he kept going, walking into the flames, into the last trick of the Amazing Mussini. He was so hot at first, he thought the flames would lick the skin right off his bones, but suddenly the flames cooled.

In his elation, Jack hardly noticed a figure approaching from the other side. Jack jumped out of the flames back into the forest. A tall, thin man in a long coat walked out of the fire. Jack could hardly believe his eyes. It was Professor Hawthorne.

“Professor?” Jack reached out to him. “Is it really you?”

“It’s really me. I knew you would make it. I knew you were the one. But I’ll admit I was worried for you.”

“Yeah? If you cared so much about me, then what took you so long?” Jack glared at the professor and dug his hands into his pockets. Anger seethed through him, the fresh cut of being abandoned reopened. “I’ve been here for weeks on my own with no help from you. You sent me in your place and left me there. So you can quit your worrying.”

“Jack, believe me when I tell you that I studied the laws of magic for fifty years, and all roads led me to the same conclusion. I needed to beat Mussini on his own turf, with his own tricks. But by the time I knew, I was too old to do it myself. So I went looking for a boy like you. I knew you would figure out a way to escape.”

“Why should I believe you? You threw me to the wolf to save your own skin.”

“I’m here now. I came back. I can only ask for your forgiveness, my boy. And ask you to come home.”

Jack winced inside when he heard the old phrase
my boy
. Maybe the professor did want him back.

He had done it on his own—well, with his friends’ help. He had escaped the Amazing Mussini. He hadn’t needed the professor or anyone else to rescue him. Maybe his destiny wasn’t something that he ran aimlessly toward, but something he claimed and grabbed hold of with both hands. He wanted to go home, back to the way it was before. But things would be different because now he knew for sure that no matter what happened, he would be OK—he would survive. He wouldn’t waste anymore of the time he had.

“If I go home with you, you’re not going to sell me to any more magicians, are you?”

“No, I promise no more tricks.” The professor motioned toward the fiery wall. “I see Mussini has added his usual flare.”

“Can we really walk right through it and not get burned?” T-Ray asked.

“Yes, this is one of Mussini’s many tricks. Can you forgive me, Jack? Let me take you back to the land of the living.” The professor held out his hand and Jack took it.

Jack’s shoulders released; the effort of holding a grudge was too tense.

“We’re really going home?” Boxer asked.

“I think it’s safe to say, you boys made it.”

Together, they followed the professor through the fire and out of the forest.