The Last Kids on Earth and the Nightmare King. Max Brallier
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The fire station shakes, shudders, and bits of tile and dust sprinkle down. Something just landed on the roof . . . Something big.
Dirk and I head to the third floor to check out the roof situation. I quietly hoist open a window – whatever is on the roof is big, and I have zero interest in alerting it to my presence.
‘Be careful,’ Dirk says.
‘Look who you’re talking to!’ I reply, grinning as I bump his fist.
‘I know who I’m talking to. That’s why I said it.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ I mutter. I inch out the window and onto the ledge. I shimmy over and grip the drainpipe.
Glancing down, I notice that the firefighter zombies are gone. Whatever this big thing on the roof is scared the zombies away. And I don’t like that . . .
Pulling my way up, I peek over the ledge.
And I gulp.
A big gulp.
Like I just swallowed a softball.
I’m looking at some sort of terrible flying beast. This monster slightly resembles a Winged Wretch, but it’s, like – WAY BIGGER and WAY MORE BLOODCURDLING. Oh, and if you’re unfamiliar, this is a Winged Wretch . . .
I haven’t made a sound, but the monster’s head suddenly swings down toward me. As if he senses me there. His eyes, like, look into mine and it’s totally freaky and I feel frozen. This thing is horribly horrifying. There are scars on his face, like he’s been around the block a few times. Fear causes my fingers to squeeze the drainpipe, gripping tighter and tighter and, well . . .
A moment later, Dirk is yanking the entire drainpipe inside. I scramble off, happy to be on solid ground. I rush downstairs and my voice cracks as I say: ‘Dudes. It’s bad. The thing up there is like a Winged Wretch but bigger !
REALLY BIG. And not pleasant looking. I know everyone’s excited about the radio, but we are now trapped inside this fire station.’
‘I must remind you,’ Quint says, ‘it is very important that we escape with both our lives and the radio.’
‘We could just wait the monster out?’ June suggests.
The instant June says that, the building quakes and ceiling chunks crash to the floor. The monster’s talons are tightening around the walls.
‘I don’t think waiting him out is an option . . .’ I say quietly.
So with that, I announce a plan that kind of sounds thought-out, but I’m actually totally making up as I go. ‘Here’s the deal,’ I say. ‘I’m going to ride Rover straight out, a full-on stampede. That will distract this big flying freak while you hop in your BoomKarts and escape. Then we’ll meet back at the tree house. Fun, right? Smart, right? Brave, right?’
Everyone begins protesting, telling me how dumb that plan is, but in my head I’m just thinking that right now, this moment – I need to protect my buddies.
I take the radio from June – and I can see she’s reluctant to let it go. ‘Don’t worry,’ I say as I slip the radio into Rover’s saddlebag. ‘I’ll keep it safe. Promise.’
And before anyone can say anything else, Dirk’s lifting the fire engine garage door open, and . . .
I hear a swirling, deafening thunderclap, followed by the sound of walloping wings and crumbling brick. I throw a glance over my shoulder. The flying terror is rocketing after us.
‘This may not have been an A-plus plan, Rover. Possibly more of a C-minus plan. So . . . FASTER! ’ I cry, and Rover’s paws slam the pavement.
The monster’s wings are beating, air clapping, the sound of the swooping louder and louder. I feel the airborne enemy at my back, and then –
I smack into the street, flipping and flopping like a fish. My nose cracks against my knee, and I immediately feel blood bubbling inside my nostrils. I ignore it, suck air, then scramble to my feet – just in time to see the beast’s massive front talons pierce Rover’s hide.
Rover yelps as –
‘NO!’ I shriek.
The monster zooms low, dragging Rover across the pavement. The sound of pained scraping fills my ears while dread floods my stomach.
Rover suddenly snarls and – SLASH! – strikes with his claws, smacking the Wretch’s talons. Rover is released. He plunges into the pavement – cracking, bouncing, and flipping across the ground.
He rolls to a stop.
He’s on his side.
Not moving.
‘Rover!’ I cry as I speed down the street. My monster-dog has been hauled and tossed, like, fifty feet. ‘Oh no,’ I say, dropping to one knee beside him.
I scratch the thick, soft hair behind Rover’s ears.
The monster’s wings beat and snap. He’s swooping toward me and Rover, returning to finish what he started.
But then I hear voices yelling.
I snap my head around and see my friends –
Quint is a very literal person.
But the beast is not distracted.
The monster’s focus is only on Rover and me. He screams through the sky. His wings smack the ground, and debris whirls as he rockets toward us.
Three hundred feet and closing in.
Two hundred feet and closing in.
One hundred feet and closing in.
The monster’s dragon-like mouth opens, and I see an army of thick fangs. I gulp. But suddenly, the monster’s wings snap to his sides and his legs stab forward.
It feels like an earthquake as his talons slam into the street, claws digging into the asphalt.
I crane my neck to look up at the monster – and I see him, fully and 100 percent clearly for the first time. He is bigger than any Winged Wretch. In fact, it’s more like . . .
-The King Wretch!-
The smell of my own blood in my nose does nothing to lessen the terror. But Rover yowls behind me, and my fear is replaced by furious rage at the big ugly fiend that hurt my friend.
I