Strange Invaders Page 6

  Jessie moved closer to me. I could feel her trembling. “Squirrels are supposed to run around,” she whispered. “Whenever I come out here they chatter at me like crazy. But these squirrels act like they’re hypnotized or something.”

  “I’ve never seen so many in one place before,” breathed Frasier.

  “It’s like they’ve come here from all over,” I said. “I want to get closer. See if they’ll run away or if they’re paralyzed or what.”

  Frasier nodded. All three of us crowded together, approaching very slowly. The eyes seemed to glow hotter, the closer we got.

  “What’s that noise?” whispered Jessie.

  It sounded like the revving of a motor a long way off. But as soon as Jessie spoke I realized it wasn’t a motor and it wasn’t far off. The woods were no longer silent.

  “Uh-oh,” said Frasier.

  “Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

  The squirrels were growling. The sound came from deep in their chests. It was growing louder, more menacing. Was it my imagination or were the squirrels tensing to spring?

  “GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

  “I don’t know about this,” I said nervously. “Maybe we should leave.”

  Jessie and Frasier nodded but none of us moved a muscle. We were afraid to turn our backs on the squirrels. “Maybe they’re rabid,” said Frasier. “Raccoons get rabies, right? Why not squirrels?”

  “Sure,” said Jessie sarcastically. “All the squirrels in the woods get rabies at exactly the same time. Get real.”

  Suddenly a noisy gust of wind sprang up. It came from every direction at once, ruffling our hair, tugging at our clothes. Whirlwinds of leaves rose off the forest floor and smacked our faces, snagging in our clothes and hair.

  “We better get out of here,” cried Jessie. “It must be another storm coming up.”

  We turned to run. But we didn’t get far. No more than a step.

  “GAK!” yelled Jessie.

  I felt my heart stop.

  It wasn’t a storm that created the sudden wind. It was the wings of birds! Our path was blocked by a solid wall of fluttering birds! Hundreds of them had landed on the ground right behind us. Even as we stared, more arrived. The ground was a writhing mass of black and brown feathers.

  My throat felt thick. “What do we do?” I asked.

  As if in answer to my question, the birds began to caw and shrill and shriek at us threateningly, their beady eyes hard and cold.

  “CAAAW! WWRREEEEEEP! SHREEEEEEEEE!”

  The noise was deafening. Jessie clapped her hands to her ears. I gritted my teeth to try and stop them chattering from fear.

  I felt an elbow in my ribs. “This way,” shouted Frasier. I could barely hear him over the angry, awful din of birds. I nodded and pulled at Jessie. But as we started to plunge into the bushes, the whole flock rose like a black cloud and shifted to block our way.

  “What do they want?” Jessie cried fearfully.

  “I think they want us,” I shouted back.

  The birds kept their eyes on us, watching for any attempt to escape.

  25

  We huddled together, trembling in fear. “We’ve got to get out of here,” I said.

  Suddenly there was a huge roar of wings as loud as a jet engine. The mass of birds rose off the ground. Were they leaving?

  Wings beat the air as they hovered, and leaves and bits of dirt filled our eyes.

  “I can’t see!” cried Frasier, ripping off his glasses to claw the dirt out of his eyes.

  The hovering birds pointed their beaks at us. They were going to dive-bomb us. Peck us to pieces!

  We didn’t stand a chance, three kids against a thousand crazed birds. Suddenly one of them rose higher, folded its wings, and dove straight at Frasier. He was still rubbing his eyes and didn’t see it.

  I grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the way. All the birds began to shriek and caw. They were coming after us. “Run!” I shouted, dragging Frasier by the arm.

  “CAAAAAW! SSHHRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEP! CAW! CAW!”

  The three of us plunged into the bushes as the birds dove at our heads, screaming in our ears. We ran as hard as we could, but the undergrowth slowed us down. Thorns ripped at our clothes and roots snagged at our feet.

  The birds fluttered maniacally around our heads. “CAAW, CAAAW, CAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW!”

  Ducking away from their sharp beaks, we could hardly see where we were going. Frasier ran into a tree and fell down, stirring the birds to a gleeful frenzy. Jessie helped him up and pushed him forward while I found a stick and brandished it at the attacking birds.

  They flew higher, just out of reach, and seemed to laugh at our puny efforts to save ourselves. “KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA!”

  “Come on,” yelled Jessie. I dropped the stick and followed, trying to run and cover my head at the same time. I never knew the brush of bird’s wings could feel so terrifying.

  Then a robin darted over my head and attacked Jessie, snatching at her hair with its beak and claws.

  “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIII,” screamed Jessie, shaking her head wildly and batting at the bird. The robin tangled its feet in her hair, plucking out strands with its beak, its wings flicking like some maddened bat.

  I smacked my hand at the bird. It let go of Jessie’s hair and fluttered up out of my reach, making a piercing, warlike noise. The birds swirled around our heads as I pulled Jessie along.

  I caught a glimpse of bright sun through the thick woods, and my heart lifted. “The road,” I shouted. “This way!”

  But hope faded fast. Would the flock of crazed birds follow us out of the woods? Their noise was even louder now and they dove repeatedly at our hair, pulling strands with painful little yanks.

  We crashed through the bushes at the side of the road and emerged into the sunlight, panting and whimpering.

  And suddenly there was silence.

  The attack stopped as abruptly as it had started. Out of the woods, we were safe. At least for now.

  Frasier, breathing hard, wiped his forehead. His glasses were crooked and leaves and feathers were stuck in his bristly crew cut. Jessie’s hair was a huge tangle, like a bird’s nest. I brushed my head and watched small black and gray feathers flutter to the road.

  “This is ridiculous,” Frasier grumbled. “Now even the sparrows are trying to kill us.”

  Jessie’s eyes looked very big and dark in her ghost-white face. “Nick, you know how every spring I save all the hair from my hairbrush and every morning I put it out in the forsythia bush for the birds to make their nests?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I don’t think I’m going to do that anymore,” she said and started trudging for home. She wasn’t going very fast, but Frasier and I were so exhausted we still had to struggle to catch up with her.

  None of us had much to say, but I knew Jessie was thinking the same thing I was. Maybe Mom and Dad had a good reason for grounding us. Something didn’t want us messing around outside, and our parents just might know what it was.

  The thought made me shudder. Did the big project in the basement have something to do with what was happening to the birds and squirrels? Were our parents responsible?

  Jessie and I crept back into the house as quietly as we could. But it didn’t matter. There was so much noise coming from the basement, Mom and Dad wouldn’t have heard us if we’d shouted we were home.

  SCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPE! BAANG!

  It sounded like something metal and very heavy was being dragged and pushed across the floor. There were grunting noises that didn’t sound like either of our parents.

  We glanced at each other and bolted for the stairs, not stopping until we were outside Jessie’s room. “I’m really scared,” said Jessie. Even with dirt all over her face, I could see dark circles under her eyes. “We have to do something.”

  I nodded. “But what? Whatever is causing this is stronger than our parents.”

  “Yes,” Jessie agreed, wincing. “But for some
reason it doesn’t affect us. That has to count for something.”

  “You’re right. Maybe it doesn’t have any power over kids,” I said. “Tell you what. Let’s each go to our rooms and think hard about a plan. We’ll meet at your room in an hour and see what we’ve got.”

  “Good idea,” said Jessie enthusiastically. “We’ll think of something.”

  But half an hour later I was still sitting at my desk, chewing the end of my pen. Everything I could think of led to just one thing. We had to go back to Harley Hills. That’s where it had started, and I was absolutely certain that whatever evil thing was doing all this was in those hills somewhere.

  But every time I thought about going, I started to shake.

  So naturally my heart slammed against my ribs when I heard sneaky footsteps in the hall outside my door.

  “Who’s there?” I demanded, the challenging tone ruined by a squeak in the middle.

  “Me.” It was Jessie. She pushed open the door and slipped in. Her face was pasty white and her eyes were big and scared.

  I leaped up from the bed in alarm. “Jessie! What is it? What’s the matter now?”

  Jessie shuddered and pointed toward the window. Her mouth worked but she couldn’t get any words out. “L-l-look,” she finally stuttered. “Look out the w-w-window.”

  I ran to the window and looked out. And the hair rose up on the back of my neck.

  26

  People—adults—were coming out of all the houses I could see. They lurched out their doors, moving jerkily and leaving the doors swinging wide behind them. Moving like sleepwalkers. Or zombies.

  “Do you see?” breathed Jessie.

  “I see them,” I said, craning my neck and looking out through the backyards. As I watched, all the people disappeared around the sides of their houses, heading for the street.

  “It’s worse from my room,” moaned Jessie.

  “Let’s check it out,” I said, grabbing her hand. Jessie’s room was next to mine, but there was a better view of the street. I gasped when I looked down.

  All up and down the street, doors were swinging wide and people were staggering into the road. Their jaws hung slack and they stared blindly ahead of them.

  Mr. Mason walked into Mr. Forester and the two of them bounced off each other like rubber. They wobbled like toy tops, then got themselves upright again and went on with the crowd, never saying a word to each other.

  “Ow,” I said as Mrs. Pringle walked smack into a tree. But her expression didn’t change. She backed up a few steps and veered off in a slightly different direction, like one of those kid’s windup cars that bumps into things and buzzes off again.

  The people looked rubbery and stiff at the same time. They bounced off each other. They bumped into parked cars and trees like they didn’t see them. Just like those battery toys, they would back up and start going again, all of them heading in the same direction—north, out of town. But their arms and legs were jerky, as if they had strings attached like puppets.

  “They’re heading for Harley Hills,” I said bleakly.

  “Oh, no,” cried Jessie. “Look!”

  But I’d already seen. Mom and Dad came lurching out of the house, their legs jerking in unison. They joined the crowd and disappeared into it. “We’ve got to save them!” I shouted, heading for the door, Jessie on my heels.

  As we pounded down the stairs, I began to feel a faint vibration from under the floor. It seemed to rise from deep in the ground, up through the foundation of the house and the soles of my feet. It made my bones rattle and my skin buzz. I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering.

  We dashed out through the open door.

  “Yaaagllub,” yelled Jessie, like the wind had been knocked out of her.

  I turned to see what was wrong and—wham!—Mr. Harper, who weighed about 300 pounds, walked into me, knocking me instantly to the ground. He kept going as if he didn’t notice.

  All I could see around me were churning, jerking legs. “Hey,” I called out, trying to scramble to my feet. A foot caught me in the ribs and I went down again. Where was Jessie?

  A jolt of fear went through me as I thought of us being trampled by our own neighbors. I wriggled along the ground trying to get out of their path. But mobs of people were careening across our front yard. They were everywhere.

  I rolled into a ball to try and protect myself. “Jessie, where are you?” I called out. No answer. Then a foot planted itself in my side. “Aaaaaaah!” I twisted and the foot slid off. It was Mr. Rodriguez. He teetered as if he were going to fall on me.

  “Mr. Rodriguez,” I yelled. “Wake up!”

  He recovered his balance and backed away but never looked at me, never changed his shuffling, lurching gait.

  A hand gripped my shoulder and tried to haul me up. It was Jessie. Somehow she’d gotten to her feet. “Come on, Nick!” she yelled. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  It felt weird to be shoving at adults, but the crowd was so thick it was the only way I could get back on my feet. As soon as I shoved, they wobbled and stopped, then turned and went around me. Their eyes never once focused on anything.

  “Mrs. Pringle! Mr. Forester! Mr. Mason!”

  We tried yelling their names like we had the other night, but they didn’t respond. They didn’t even blink. My stomach shriveled to a cold, hard ball of dread.

  “I can’t see Mom and Dad,” said Jessie, jumping to try and see over the heads of all the people. But it was no use. Mom and Dad were completely swallowed up by the crowd. And the crowd was pressing on us more thickly every minute. If we didn’t get out of here soon, we’d be swept along.

  “Let’s get our bikes,” I yelled to Jessie, who was already getting separated from me.

  She nodded. “We’ll head them off.”

  27

  The sun was sinking rapidly. Strange clouds were boiling up along the horizon over Harley Hills, casting an eerie glow.

  Jessie and I grabbed our bikes and started pedaling furiously up the road. We had to get ahead of them, figure out a way to stop them somehow. Maybe Mom and Dad would recognize our desperate voices and wake up. Then they could help us wake the others.

  But people kept stumbling into our path. Then we’d have to brake hard to keep from hitting them. Most of the time, we no sooner got back on our bikes than somebody else would stagger into us.

  “This is no good,” said Jessie. “We’re not even moving as fast as they are.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard. “There’s only one thing to do,” I said.

  Jessie nodded back, looking scared and serious. “We’ll have to go through the woods,” she said, her voice small.

  “It’s shorter, at least,” I said, veering over to a path I knew. I tried to keep my voice steady as I looked into the blackness of the woods, but I was shaking all over.

  “What about the birds and squirrels?” asked Jessie.

  I bit my lip and hopped back on the bike. “Just pedal fast and keep your head down,” I said.

  The woods were dark, but the sky was glowing brighter now and there was just enough light to see the narrow path. The vibration in the earth seemed stronger, too. “Can you feel that?” I asked my sister.

  “The humming?” Jessie responded grimly. “I can feel it coming up from the ground. Right up through my tires. It reminds me of the pipe organ at church. The lowest note. You can barely hear it, but it makes the furniture shake.”

  I just grunted. That was exactly what I’d thought the night of the storm. I tried to push that memory out of my mind. We had work to do. I kept my head lowered and my eyes on the rutted path through the trees.

  But we hadn’t gone far when I heard a squeak from Jessie. Reluctantly I looked up. Eyes glowed from the tree branches. Thousands and thousands of tiny red, yellow, and green eyes, all of them fixed on us.

  My insides seemed to liquefy. I wanted to drop the bike right there and hightail it back to our house. But I couldn’t do that. We had to save our parents. So I put
my head down and pedaled harder.

  Zoom! Swish! Out of the darkness I felt the flutter of birds’ wings close to my face. I flinched and almost fell but steadied myself and kept going. The birds flapped closer, brushing my skin with their whispery wings. I gritted my teeth and gripped the handlebars, wishing I could close my eyes.

  “Behind us!” yelled Jessie, her voice cracking and shrill.

  I risked a glance over my shoulder. A big, dark shape slipped in and out of the trees, chasing down the path after us. I only got a glimpse before I had to look forward again to keep from crashing into a tree.

  But one look was enough to send my pulse racing. It looked like the hugest bird I had ever seen, its big wings flapping into tree trunks and branches.

  “Faster,” I shouted as a crow swooped down inches from my nose.

  I batted at the bird and looked behind us again. The flapping thing raced along after us. It was gaining. And it no longer looked like a bird at all. It was too bulky, and what I had thought were wings looked like a long cape whipping out behind the thing.

  But it was definitely flying. My heart was pumping like mad, but my blood ran cold.

  I risked another glance back.

  The thing was gaining on us. Getting closer and closer.

  My bike wobbled dangerously as panic shot through me. I whipped around and got control of my bike just as the front wheel hit a big rock and bounced high into the air. I shuddered to think what might have happened if I’d hit the rock when I wasn’t looking.

  “Faster!” I shouted to Jessie.

  We had to outdistance the caped monster. I stepped harder on the pedals, bouncing over ruts, feeling the shock go right through me.

  “Ah-heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  A bloodcurdling scream erupted from the darkness.

  28

  The thing had got Jessie! For one long instant my heart seemed to stop completely. I tromped on the brakes and at that same instant two things happened.

  First, I heard Jessie’s voice right behind me. “What was that?” she called out shakily. “It sounded like a person.”