The Librarian (Book One: Little Boy Lost) (12 page)

  
“I am!” Wesley quickened his pace. “You guys were right. Seeing them together like that...” His labored breaths wouldn’t let him finish.

  
“No one’s gonna believe us,” Taylor said between gasps. “You realize we saved two people today?”

  
Locke pointed a thumb at his own chest. “Three,” he said with a grin.

  
Wesley continued running after his friends. He could feel the sun’s heat on his back. The yellow brick road was whipping through the edge of his vision as he ran. He could hear the musical roar of the mammoth waterfall in the distance. For the first time since his move to Astoria, Wesley Bates didn’t feel the weight of a heavy heart in his chest. He wasn’t worried about a thing. Not the bus ride to school or the locker room after gym, not the embarrassment of finding a seat in the cafeteria, not even Randy Stanford. He knew his old life was still waiting on the other side of the portal, but all that mattered now were the hopeful thoughts of adventure bouncing around in his head.

  
The three friends continued through the meadow until Locke came to an abrupt halt, putting an arm out to stop each of his friends. Wesley and Taylor were happy for the break. Both were sweating profusely and short on breath.

  
Locke pulled his dagger. “Pirates. Get ready.”

  
“Locke,” Taylor began with a grin. “This isn’t Neverland. I’ve read almost all the
Oz
books, and I never—“

  
“Well, there you all are!” The strange voice that interrupted them was coming from inside the cabin. “We were starting to worry,” Douglas explained as he and Randy stepped from inside the rickety building. Wesley saw Randy was still holding onto the
Oz
book the librarian gave him. Just seeing it was enough to put that heavy weight in his chest again.

  
“I guess I’ve got good news and bad news for you guys,” Douglas continued. “Which do you want first?” The kids didn’t respond. “The good news is that two of you get to stay behind with your Uncle Douglas. The bad? Well, one of you has to go back through and tell that boring old fossil that we have your friends.”

  
“How much time do we have?” Wesley whispered.

  
“We need to get in that cabin,” Locke explained.

  
“So?” Douglas held out his arms as if offering nothing more than a welcomed hug. “Who’s staying?”

  
Taylor jabbed an angry finger at the man blocking their path. “There’s three of us, and Locke’s got a knife. We’re all going home!”

  
Randy flinched. No one talked to his dad like that without paying a price. No one. He looked up at his dad. Douglas’s crooked grin was beginning to show. That kid with the stolen sundae was back.

  
“He was hoping you’d say that.” Douglas shrugged then motioned with a single hand. “They’re all yours, my friend.”

  
Wesley turned just as the shadowy figure appeared from the brush and descended upon them. The hooded man was quick, his gloved hands a blur as they grabbed Wesley and Taylor, tucking each of them under one of his lanky arms.

  
He grabbed at Locke next, getting nothing but air when the Lost Boy evaded his grasp with a forward flip. He summersaulted through the air and landed in a crouched position just ahead of their attacker. From there he leapt, plunging his dagger into the hooded man’s arm. The dark figure dropped both children, gripping his arm in pain and letting out a bone-chilling cry that seemed anything but human.
 

  
“AHHH!!”

  
Locke took Taylor by the arm as Wesley rolled over onto his side. “Get her out of here!!”

  
His friends took off. Wesley moved to follow, scrambling to his feet, but the hooded man recovered quickly, snatching Wesley before he could escape, yanking him off his feet and pulling him into the air.

  
Wesley was face-to-face with the dark figure. Even this close, he couldn’t quite make out the features under the hood. Instead, his gaze was locked on the hooded man’s fiery eyes. Just inches away, he could hear the crackle of the flame; he could feel its heat.

  
Wesley kicked and swung – anything that might break the hooded man’s iron grip. He closed his eyes, pushed back the man’s hood and began clawing at the dark figure’s face.

  
That was all it took.

  
The hooded man moved to protect himself, releasing Wesley and allowing him to fall to the ground.

  
Eyes open, Wesley was ready to take off again. He glanced back, only wanting to size-up his attacker once more before running to join his friends.

  
But what he saw...

  
Left him frozen.

  
It left them
all
frozen.

  
There was a flaming Jack-O-Lantern on the hooded man’s shoulders in place of a human head. The grotesque pumpkin was misshapen and appeared to be rotting despite the grim face cut into its flesh.
 

  
And that face.

  
If it had been carved into any other pumpkin – a pumpkin on someone’s doorstep, perhaps – there would have been nothing particularly disturbing about it. It had a broad mouth with jagged teeth, oval eyes and a nasal cavity that looked like the missing nose on one of the skeletons in Mr. Meadow’s science class.

  
But it was the way the face
lived
that left them so unsettled. How that carved nose breathed air in-and-out. How the pumpkin’s orange skin stretched and wrinkled with each of its movements. How those flaming eyes seemed to always be on you.

  
Taylor and Locke stood staring in shocked disbelief. Even Randy was gaping, horrified by the monster that had finally been revealed. But Douglas continued to smile, happy to see he’d chosen the right character to aid him in his work. Kids were so hard to scare these days, but the Headless Horseman seemed to be doing
just fine
.

  
Wesley crawled through the grass like a retreating crab as the Horseman moved toward him. He extended a hand and his sword materialized in a flash of grey smoke.

  
All at once, the Tinman’s cabin filled with light. Douglas wheeled around, his eyes filled with rage. “Don’t even!” Long pillars of light spilled through the cabin’s windows. A blast of white shimmered through its open door. There was something moving around in the cabin too. A rail-thin shadow come to life.

  
The librarian stepped through the door and into the meadow. He’d traded his bone colored cane for a chiseled staff with a canary-colored stone at its tip. When they’d met him, the librarian had leaned heavily on his cane. Now he was standing tall. Shoulders back. Chin up. He was a formidable opponent. If the old man’s posture didn’t give it away, the worry on Douglas’s face certainly did.

  
“Wes!!” Taylor yelled.

  
Wesley stumbled to his feet. The Horseman saw he was on the move and brought his sword down hard. Wesley didn’t feel a thing when the blade sliced a shoelace that had come loose and was dragging behind him.

  
“Hurry, children!” The librarian waved the kids over. “Hurry!” Taylor and Locke went running for the cabin.
 

  
“Stop them!” Douglas barked. “Randy! Now!!”

  
Randy snapped from his trance just as Wesley passed within reach. He let his copy of
Oz
fall then reached for Wesley, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and yanking with such force the collar ripped and his knees buckled, sending Wesley to the ground once more.

  
Taylor and Locke reached the cabin’s doorway and turned to see Wesley was caught. Locke moved to help, but the librarian lowered his staff to stop him.

  
“What are you doing?!” Taylor screamed. “He needs us!”

  
“The portal’s closing.” Behind them the light was already beginning to dissipate. “Master Wesley is on his own.”

  
Randy pinned Wesley, rolled him over then slung his body into the air, making sure the skinny kid would land on his back in the dirt. Wesley landed hard too, his face twisting with pain as the air went rushing out of his lungs.

  
Wesley turned over on his stomach, desperate, trying to crawl away as quickly as he could.

  
Randy looked down on him with a smirk. “Like you could ever get away from me!” He grabbed Wesley at the ankles, pulling him back. Wesley clawed at the grass, his nails digging into the dirt, anything to delay the inevitable.

  
Randy leaned over, grabbing Wesley’s shoulders and putting his full weight behind both hands. On top of him now, Randy put a hand on the back of Wesley’s head and smashed his face into the dirt.

  
Taylor darted into the meadow. She’d had enough. The librarian grabbed her, struggling to hold her back as she swung her arms wildly at the air.

  
“Get your hands off him!!” she shouted.

  
Locke watched in silence as Wesley twisted his neck so that his face was no longer buried in the dirt. His glasses were crooked on his face, a twisted, mangled mess. Water was welling up in his eyes. Blood was trickling from his nose.
 

  
“Good!” Douglas shouted. “Hold him still!”

  
“C’mon,” Locke said quietly to himself. “You’ve got this, Wes.”

  
But he’d given in. The old Wesley was back, convinced there was nothing he could do from this point forward.

  
Until he looked over at Locke.

  
Locke hadn’t given up on his new friend and pumped his fist when he finally had Wesley’s attention. “C’mon!” Locke hollered. “You’ve got this!!”

  
The defeat disappeared from Wesley’s eyes, blown away by the winds of change, replaced by angry thunderheads that were moving in from the horizon once more.

  
Wesley braced his hand against the ground. He pushed against the earth with every ounce of his strength. Randy stumbled back – no more than an inch, really – but enough to give Wesley the breathing room he needed. Wesley wiggled free, hurried to his feet and turned to face Randy.

  
Watching from nearby, only the ghost of Douglas’s toothy smile remained. He saw what was happening. There was more than darkness in Wesley’s eyes. There was thunder and lightning, howling winds and pounding rain. This wasn’t the same kid who had backed down earlier in the library, and Douglas knew his son wasn’t ready.

  
Randy sneered. “Look who’s finally decided to—“

  
Wesley didn’t let him finish. He balled his fingers into a tight fist and with one violent swing, the storm clouds burst, unleashing their fury onto the world. The blow landed flush across Randy’s jaw, and the bully crumpled to the ground.

  
He stood over Randy, looking down in shock at what he’d done. His fist was cocked, ready to go again, but he couldn’t keep it still. His hands were trembling.

  
The librarian looked into the cabin. The light was waning. “Come on!”

  
Wesley was ready to join the others but spied something at his feet. Randy’s copy of
Oz
.
His
copy. He snatched the book and darted for the cabin. The librarian quickly ushered Taylor and Locke through the door and into the light.

  
“Stop him!” Douglas was yelling at his son, but Randy didn’t move. Furious, Douglas turned to the Horseman beside him. “Why are you even here?!”

  
The Horseman charged toward them, his sword poised for a violent thrust. The librarian saw him coming, widened his stance and gripped his staff with both hands.

   
“Fulgur!”

  
A bolt of yellow lightning surged from the stone atop the librarian’s staff, engulfed the Horseman and sent him tumbling back the way he’d come.

  
Undeterred, the Horseman quickly came to his feet and closed on them again, removing the Jack-O-Lantern from his shoulders. He took it in a single hand and launched it through the air, throwing it at the librarian, a trail of orange fire trailing behind it like the exhaust from a missile.

  
Wesley ducked under the librarian’s arm and into the cabin as the pumpkin drew near. The Jack-O-Lantern hit the door just as the librarian pulled it shut. It tore the wooden door from its hinges, but the portal had closed.

  
The librarian and the kids were gone.

WESLEY, TAYLOR AND Locke stood together, all three happy to see they were back in the library. Taylor shot a look over her shoulder at the Oz carving then turned her attention to Wesley.
 

  
“Oh! My! God!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe you did that! Did you see the look on Randy’s face?!”

  
Wesley forced a smile but it disappeared in the tremble of his lips. A moment later, he burst into tears. All the emotions he’d been bottling up since his move to Astoria – the sorrow, the anger, the loneliness and despair – they were all on display. He couldn’t hold them back any longer. After all, once a rain cloud opens up like that, there’s just no stopping it, no stopping it until all of the rain is gone.

STILL SHAKEN, RANDY watched as the Horseman came out of the cabin and re-attached his Jack-O-Lantern head.
 

  
“What were you thinking?” Douglas snatched Randy by the arm and yanked him to his feet. “How’d you let a scrawny little kid like that get the best of you?!”