Amber Waves of Angst

Chapter 20

Dylan and Christine huddled underneath a small van parked on Main Street in the Beacon Hills town square. Dylan's face was nearly black from crying and then rubbing his face with dirty hands in an attempt to stop. Christine had not cried once (and Dylan's admiration for his lifelong friend had doubled and doubled again at her strength), but her lower lip trembled now and then. Whether it was from anger or fear, he couldn't tell. Perhaps it was both.

When the last troop of the living dead passed them by, they made a break for it and ran into a hardware store, locking the door behind them. The owner had run out into the street (along with most of the other remaining residents of Beacon Hills) in an attempt to escape. From the screams they heard in the distance, his escape attempt failed.

Christine sniffed out the store while Dylan sat against a wall and huddled into himself, shaking uncontrollably. When she was satisfied that they were alone, she went about locking all the windows and doors and closing the shutters so that no one would be able to see inside. The hardware store was fortified against breaking and entering more than any other merchant on the street, so they would be safe for a while. She tried the phone with no success. She picked up a machete from a nearby shelf and gave it a few practice swings before putting it down regretfully. She was simply not strong enough to wield it efficiently. Christine looked at her small, delicate looking hands and wished harder than ever that they were capable of sprouting deadly claws so that she could rip those zombies to shreds. She caught her trembling lip in her teeth and bit it until she tasted blood.

She didn't notice when the small cut sealed itself shut.

Dylan let something out that was between a whimper and a groan, and Christine quickly grabbed a small hunting knife and strapped it to her belt before going over to him. Sitting down next to him, she put one arm around him, feeling an unusual surge of protectiveness and rage at his fright, and she racked her brain for a way to calm him down.

"We'll be okay, Dyl-weed. Our parents and our Alphas have fought monsters lots of times, and they always won. If we were just a little older, we could have flattened these creeps."

"Do you think our parents will be mad at us for ditching Aunt Maria and coming back here?"

"Um....yeah. We're in for it. But they have to stop treating us like-"

Christine stopped herself. She now knew exactly why they had been sent away, and how their parents would have every right to be furious with them. But the grown-ups just never told them what was going on, and the young pre-werewolves were worried. Aunt Maria had been tight-lipped about the whole affair, and that's why they decided to come back.

Christine suddenly had an idea.

"I'll tell you a story about how kick-ass our Pack is. Then you'll know that stupid zombies could never hurt us. Wanna hear it?"

Dylan turned to look at her. "Is it for real?"

Christine punched him in the arm. "Of course it is!"

Dylan shrugged. "Yeah, right. Okay, tell me."

"Once upon a time..." she began. "...there was a king named...um..."

A memory of Stiles wearing a Burger King crown at a long ago party came into her mind. "A king named Stiles. And Stiles was very unhappy..."

"Why was he unhappy?" interrupted Dylan.

Christine pinched him. "Quiet! Now I have to start again!"

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Once upon a time, in a kingdom (called Stiles' Isles) at the edge of a great forest, there lived a king named Stiles who was very unhappy. He was unhappy because although his kingdom was rich and he was loved by all the people, he was very lonely. Sometimes the beautiful Princess Christine and the stupid Prince Dylan from the Silver Lands would visit him to play games and try to make him happy, but he was still lonely sometimes.