Monster Behind the Wheel by Michael McCarty & Mark McLaughlin

Author:Michael McCarty & Mark McLaughlin
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781605421650
Publisher: Medallion Press
Published: 2011-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

MEETING MR. BROWN

When I was seventeen, I had another dream about that funny river—the one that looked like it was made out of liquid diamonds.

Earlier that day, I’d been arguing with a teacher at school. The teacher had accused me of hitting another student in the face with the bombardo ball in gym class. I hadn’t done it on purpose, but the poor guy had received a bloody nose from it. I remember I’d asked a very logical question that the teacher had refused to answer: “Why the hell are we even playing a stupid baby game like bombardo?”

Bombardo is a good game for weak little rug rats who can’t throw the ball too hard. But with big, strong teenagers tossing those hard red balls around, the game could easily knock a few teeth loose.

When I found myself on that rocky plain, I wondered if I was in hell for cussing in front of a teacher and/or giving another kid a bloody nose. Then I remembered I’d been to this dream plain before, and I started looking around for the scarecrow on the rock.

I found the edge of the canyon but no scarecrow man. I gazed into the chasm. In the distance, I could see one of those bat creatures. I crouched behind a large rock so it couldn’t see me. From my hiding place, I was still able to look down into the waters.

I thought about what the scarecrow had told me—that if you stared into the waters and thought about pretties, you’d get to see them. Well, I was your typical horny teenager, so I tried to summon some images of sexy ladies.

In one of the liquid facets below, I saw a bosomy gal in old-fashioned clothes walking along a moonlit cobblestone street. She was wobbling a bit, and I figured she might have been drunk. Then, from out of a dark alley, a figure in a swirling cape loomed forth, a silver blade raised in one hand.

I turned away and found myself facing a bizarre figure, heading right for me. He didn’t seem to be unfriendly, though. In fact, he waved to me.

It was another dead guy. But whereas the other one had been mostly rotted away, this one had chosen to hold himself together. Most of his body was wrapped in filthy tin foil, like a cannibal’s leftovers.

“Howdy,” he said with a big smile, revealing large, yellow teeth. “You lost? You look awfully—alive—to be hanging around here.”

“I’ve been here before,” I said matter-of-factly.

“You have, huh?” He stared at me with slightly deflated eyes. “So what are ya? A tourist? That ain’t the Grand Canyon, ya know.”

“I figured that out,” I said. “Maybe you can answer a couple questions. I asked a different guy the last time I was here, but he just told me to go away.”

“Well, ya should go away. But, sure, I’ll answer your questions.” The tin-wrapped man shrugged. “If I can.”

“Where am I, and what’s that river made of?” I asked.

“That’s the river and this is the edge, so duh, you’re at River’s Edge.

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