The Smashed Man of Dread End by J.W. Ocker

Author:J.W. Ocker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2021-06-21T00:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Erica’s plan had been simple but daring. Mark the forehead of the Smashed Man with the darkwash Elberex. Noe hadn’t understood when she first read the diary why Erica was so confident about the plan. And, Noe had to admit, she still didn’t. Noe didn’t feel that confidence, despite what she had told the other Dread Enders. What she felt was desperation. There was no other plan. No other choice. It was this or wait for the Smashed Man to get her while she was sleepwalking. Or Len.

But the time for thinking about the plan was over.

The crack in the basement wall glistened. The familiar shape of the Smashed Man’s head, especially after the past five hours, started creeping out, slower than usual. Much slower than usual. That was a good sign.

Noe opened the glass vial and dropped its small stopper to the hard dirt below. She took the thin paintbrush and eased it into the sparkly darkwash. It felt like she was sheathing a sword, getting it ready for battle. She felt a little silly with her tiny paintbrush weapon, but no way was she going to touch the Smashed Man with her hand. Not after last time. Her hand still throbbed.

The worst part about watching the Smashed Man creep out of the wall was when he first showed his face. The awful bruised look. The open wounds and torn gray skin. The glistening bone showing through. Those purple shimmering eyes that didn’t blink and seemed larger than they should be. That awful jagged smile.

But its silence was the worst.

After a long time, the Smashed Man’s face bent up and looked at her. Its expression was the same. As if it didn’t know or didn’t care that the Dread Enders had been luring him out all night.

Noe had a decision to make. Do it now or wait as long as possible, to weaken him further. She couldn’t let him get too far out this time, because of his arms. She couldn’t get close enough to his head if his hands were free. But she could wait a little longer. Maybe until he was free to the elbows.

She took a few steps toward him, remembering how close Dad had gotten without seeing him that first time.

The Smashed Man was out past his shoulders now, the gray rags embedded in his grayish skin like old grave clothes. Sixty more seconds, she told herself. Then I do it. For Len. For me. For the rest of the Dread Enders. For Erica. A type of scared she hadn’t felt before filled her stomach and head and made her arms and legs tingle. She counted down in her head.

Fifty seconds.

Forty seconds.

Thirty seconds. She almost wanted to count out loud just to destroy the eerie silence. To see if she could wipe that deranged look off the Smashed Man’s flat face.

Twenty seconds. She could hear the plastic handle of the paintbrush tinkling in the jar and realized she was shaking.

Ten seconds. She took a deep

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