The Whispers by Greg Howard

Author:Greg Howard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2019-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

15

THE HOBGOBLIN VS. THE KING OF THE REDNECK SUPERHEROES

My crazed guard dog and the creek separating us from the creature keep me from turning tail right that second and running home, screaming like a banshee. That and the possibility that this thing could be holding Mama captive somewhere out here in the woods keep me anchored to the ground. I hold out my Swiss Army knife and make a great show of extending the larger blade. Gary picks up a thick branch and holds it over his head like a baseball bat. Carl cowers behind us. Useless.

We stand our ground—me, Gary, and Tucker. The hobgoblin doesn’t move either. It’s a standoff, just like on the cop shows on TV. If only Detective Chase Cooper were here. New sounds echo behind me—the rustle of crunching leaves underfoot followed by the jarring pump action of a loaded shotgun. My heart races. Maybe there’s more than one hobgoblin. And they have guns. We’re surrounded. We all spin around, Carl with a gasp and me and Gary holding our weapons over our heads, ready to strike the hobgoblin’s accomplice.

Dylan Mathews stands a few feet away, the flames of our fire flickering across his recently damaged face like war paint. A backpack and a rolled-up sleeping bag sit at his feet, and the butt of his shotgun rests against his shoulder. He points the barrel directly at the hobgoblin. I can barely breathe at the sight of him. My own personal redneck superhero steps forward, parting us like Moses parting the Red Sea. He doesn’t even glance our way, so laser-focused is he on his hobgobliny target. He walks right up to the edge of the creek beside Tucker, who instantly decides he’s an ally and not another threat. Dylan has that way about him, and Tucker has always been a great judge of character.

“Mordie,” Dylan says in a raised but steady tone, silencing Tucker’s bark. “Get on out of here, now. Just turn around and walk away.”

The hobgoblin stands motionless, training its beady gator eyes on Dylan. Tucker growls a warning for the thing to obey Dylan’s command. Still, it doesn’t move.

“I mean it, Mordie,” Dylan calls out, taking another step forward. “Go on home now.”

The hobgoblin stares at him. A few tense seconds tick by before the thing slowly backs away, never taking its eyes off Dylan. Finally, the creature disappears completely into the shadows of the woods. Dylan lowers his shotgun and stares out into the darkness where the thing just vanished into thin air.

“Holy crap!” Gary exclaims, a little too loud. “That was insane!”

Tucker returns to my side, panting to high heaven. I stare at the back of Dylan’s straw-colored head until he turns around and looks at us. The bruise on his cheek is a little less noticeable in the shifting firelight, and though the caked blood is gone, his lip is still swollen.

“What the heck was that thing?” Gary says, pacing around the fire with the energy of a thin person.

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