“Is … is he turned?” Strunk glanced at Tom, who gave a tight shake of his head. Not an answer to the question, but rather a command to be quiet.
Benny took one more step closer. Definitely in reach now. Tom hissed, but didn’t move. His blade was poised to cut, and Benny knew how fast his brother was. If Morgie grabbed him, though, would it be fast enough?
“Morgie … you’re freaking me out here. If this is one of your jokes, it’s not funny.”
Morgie’s mouthed worked and worked.
“Morgie … please.”
Morgie whispered, “Nix!”
Then he bent forward and toppled off the step. Strunk cried out in alarm, clawing at his pistol. Tom almost took the boy’s head off, but checked his swing as Benny darted forward and caught his friend. Morgie was heavy, and he clamped cold fingers around Benny’s arms and pulled himself closer until his mouth was right next to Benny’s throat. Benny could feel the labored breathing on his neck.
“Benny get out of there!” Tom yelled. He grabbed Morgie’s shoulder with one hand, keeping the sword raised with the other, ready for the killing blow. “Benny!”
“Kill it!” bellowed Strunk.
Benny wheeled on them with a snarl. “Shut up!” Then he turned back to Morgie and leaned close.
“Benny …” Morgie gasped weakly. “They took Nix.”
“What? What happened?”
“Mrs. Riley … They wanted her to tell them … something … but she wouldn’t. They … beat her up. They made me stand and watch. Gun to my head. Nix tried to … stop them. Couldn’t. She was hurt. Mrs. Riley …”
And then his eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed against Benny, his limbs going slack, his head lolling.
“Tom!” Benny said, trying to catch his friend, to keep him from tumbling to the ground. Tom and Strunk caught Morgie under the armpits and pulled him back. The handful of crushed flowers tumbled slowly to the ground, scattering petals. They laid him on the ground.
“Give me some light,” Tom ordered, and Strunk brought the torch.
“Is he bitten?” Strunk asked. “Is he dead?”
Tom pressed two fingers into Morgie’s throat. “No. He’s alive, but he’s hurt.” He reached up to push the torchlight into place for a better view, and there it was. Although Morgie’s clothing had not appeared to be wet from the rain, the back of his hair and shirt were soaked. Benny leaned over to take a look, and gagged. The back of Morgie’s head was a tangle of matted, bloody hair, and the blood had run down his neck and soaked his back. Tom gently probed the wound, his expression lacking optimism.
“Is it bad?” Benny asked.
“It isn’t good. I think he has a skull fracture, and he’s going into shock. Keith, get me some help now.”
Even though Strunk was the head of town security and was not used to taking orders from anyone except the mayor, he nodded and went off without an argument. He ran to the end of the block where there was an alarm bell, and began ringing it loudly, calling out for the town watch.
Tom waved Benny over and laid Morgie’s head carefully onto his brother’s lap. “Stay with him, Benny. I have to check inside.”
They were both keenly aware there were lights on inside the Riley house, and no one had come out to investigate the voices and commotion on the lawn. Not even a bark from their dog, Pirate. Benny’s heart was a cold stone that kept falling through the icy waters of a deep well.
“Tom, Morgie said …”
“I heard what he said.” Tom sheathed his sword, drew his pistol, and thumbed back the hammer. As he turned toward the front door, Benny saw his brother’s expression in the moonlight. It was equal parts rage and terror.
Benny sat on the muddy ground with Morgie’s head in his lap. His friend’s mouth moved once or twice, and even though Morgie made no sound, Benny knew what he was saying.