Hunt

Adam was having a nightmare.

He recognised the signs. The desperate desire to run away, only to be slowed down by something - in this case, the weight of carrying Banter and being jammed together with the others in a narrow staircase. Also the surreal feeling he had, like he was only half there, half somewhere far away. He thought he might just be in shock, but it was also pretty similar to being in a nightmare, so why not? Why couldn’t this all just be a dream? If it was a dream then he’d have to wake up soon. And he wouldn’t have to lose anyone else…

They reached the door leading to the second floor. Cora kicked it open so hard it burst off its hinges and flew ten metres down the corridor. She led them through it, running lightly on the balls of her feet, but still leaving behind large cracks on the floor after each step.

They kept running. Empty classrooms flashed past on either side, most of them didn’t even have a single desk. The second floor of D block was never used. A horrible thought came to Adam’s mind. If the Nightmare got them up here, how long would it take for someone to find them? Would someone ever find them?

They reached the end of the corridor. There was a single door to the right. Cora opened it and they saw a room filled with old storage boxes. They were sagging and covered in dust. It looked like they’d been there for years.

“What do we do, Cora?” asked Ridley, trying and failing to keep the panic out of his voice. Cora turned to look back up the corridor, and they all turned with her.

The Nightmare was walking towards them. It had never looked more terrifying. Its jerking limbs, its bulging eyes, and that drawn mouth that made you think it was screaming even though it made no sound. It was coming for them, and they were trapped.

Suddenly, Gen began to shriek.

It took Adam a few moments to realise that it wasn’t just noise, but a single drawn out word, and that word gave him a horrible sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, because he was sure things were about to get a whole lot worse.

“BEEEEEEeeeeeees!”

As Gen shrieked she held her arms out in front of her, with her hands curled up like claws. Cracks appeared in the palms of her hands, and out of those cracks came a swarm of the largest and most dangerous looking bees Adam had ever seen. They were the size of hummingbirds, with thick yellow and black fur, and an inch-long stinger that made Adam’s skin crawl.

“Gen noooo!” shouted Moan, but it was too late. Hundreds of the bees filled the corridor. Most of them went straight for the Nightmare, buzzing so loudly Adam could barely hear himself think, but dozens of them did an immediate u-turn and came straight for them instead.

“Inside, quick!” commanded Cora, and they all dashed into the classroom filled with boxes, Moan dragging Gen by the back of her dress as she stared transfixed at the swarm she had created. They slammed the door shut behind them, but not before a few bees had slipped through.

Ridley burnt two of them to ashes with well placed bursts from his lighter, and Moan knocked a few more from the air with some easy swings of his bat. Gen shrieked each time, distraught to see her bees being killed.

“Get a grip, Gen,” said Cora, shaking the smaller girl by the shoulders. “They might slow it down, but they’re more dangerous to us than it.”

As if to prove her right, the buzzing from the corridor began to grow softer. A chill ran through Adam’s spine. Either the bees were escaping from the building, or they were being killed. A low groan came from Gen, and he knew she was thinking along the same lines.

“Get behind the boxes,” whispered Cora, and they all huddled behind a large pile that stood alone near the centre of the room. Adam hoped they were filled with something solid, like bricks, but knew it was probably just old papers. He looked down at Banter, still held tightly in his arms.

The dog’s eyes were closed, and he wore the faintest of smiles. It would have been easy for Adam to convince himself that Banter was just sleeping after a long day of adventuring together, but that couldn’t be true, could it? A sickening flash of memory showed Banter yelping in pain as the Nightmare held him by the throat - Banter’s body going limp like the life had been drained from it - Banter being tossed through the air like he was just an empty sack of bones, no longer the brave and loyal dog that had been the single greatest comfort in Adam’s life for so many years.

“Please Banter, wake up.” He spoke so softly he hardly heard it himself, but Cora was close enough to catch it and as she turned to look at Banter, Adam noticed that her eyes glistened with tears.

“I’m so sorry Adam, this is all my fault.”

The words struck Adam like she’d tipped a bucket of ice water over his head. How could she possibly think this was all her fault? None of them would be here if it weren’t for him. There would be no reason to hide from a monster in this dusty storage room if he hadn’t made the monster in the first place. None of this was Cora’s fault.

“I should’ve listened to you,” continued Cora.

The buzzing in the corridor had stopped completely.

“I’ve dragged you all into this.”

The door burst open with a splintering crash.

“But I’m going to get you all out of it.”

Adam saw the conflicted look on Cora’s face, the determination of someone many years older, mixed with the helpless fear of a child. He saw her rise until she was almost standing, grab hold of the boxes in front of her, and lift her right foot high off the ground. Only then did he realise what she was going to do.

“Cora, nooo!” Adam cried out like his life depended on it, though it wasn’t his life he was trying to save.

But it was too late.

Cora stamped down on the floor at an angle, causing it to break away right at the place Adam and the others were crouching. Half of the floor collapsed into the classroom below, taking them all with it. All except Cora, who held onto the pile of boxes, dangling right on the edge of the giant hole she’d created.

As Adam fell, one clear thought made it through the chaos of his mind. It’s not your fault, Cora. It’s mine.

Then he crashed onto the floor amongst the broken ceiling and storage boxes, briefly overwhelmed by the roaring sound and searing pain. On instinct, desperate to protect Banter from any more harm, he imagined the dog back in the world of his daydreams, alive and happy again. He saw a flash of white light and felt the weight of Banter disappear from his arms, then darkness took him.