Desire ❃ newt

cнapтer 11

It looked as if Ben had recovered only slightly since I had seen him in the Homestead. He wore nothing but shorts, his whiter-than-white skin stretched across his bones like a sheet wrapped tightly around a bundle of sticks. Ropelike veins ran along his body, pulsing and green—but less pronounced than the day before. His bloodshot eyes fell upon me as if he were seeing his next meal.

Ben crouched, ready to spring for another attack. I was filled with a queasy fear, disbelief that this was happening at all.

"Ben!"

I looked toward the voice, surprised to see Alby standing at the edge of the graveyard, a mere phantom in the fading light. Relief flooded my      body—Alby held a large bow, an arrow cocked for the kill, pointed straight at Ben.

"Ben," Alby repeated. "Stop right now, or you ain't gonna see tomorrow."

I looked back at Ben, who stared viciously at Alby, his tongue darting between his lips to wet them.

What could possibly be wrong with that kid? The boy had turned into a monster. Why?

"Don't kill me, she's bad." Ben shrieked, spittle flying from his mouth, far enough to hit me in the face. He snapped his gaze back to me.

"Don't be stupid, Ben," Alby said, his voice calm as he continued to aim the arrow. "Kameron just got here—ain't nothing to worry about. You're still buggin' from the Changing. You should've never left your bed."

What did he mean, why did he think I was bad?

Alby hadn't moved his weapon an inch, still aiming for Ben. His hands were perfectly steady as he held the bow, almost as if he had propped it against a branch for support. "Right now, back your scrawny butt down and get to the Homestead."

"She'll wanna take us home," Ben said. "She'll wanna get us out of the Maze. Better we all jumped off the Cliff! Better we tore each other's guts out!"

"What are you talking—" I began.
"Shut your face!" Ben screamed. "Shut your ugly, traitorous face!"

"Ben," Alby said calmly. "I'm gonna count to three."

"He's bad, he's bad, he's bad ...," Ben was whispering now, almost chanting. He swayed back and forth, eyes glued on me.

I was definitely not a 'he'.

"One."

"Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad ..." Ben smiled; his teeth seemed to glow, greenish in the pale light.

I wanted to look away, get out of there. But I couldn't move; I was too mesmerized, too scared.

"Two." Alby's voice was louder, filled with warning.

"Ben," I said, trying to make sense of it all. "I'm not ... I don't even know what—"

Ben screamed, a strangled gurgle of madness, and leaped into the air, slashing out with his blade.

"Three!" Alby shouted.

There was the sound of snapping wire. The whoosh of an object slicing through the air. The sickening, wet thunk of it finding a home.

Ben's head snapped violently to the left, twisting his body until he landed on his stomach, his feet pointed toward me. He made no sound.

I jumped to my feet and stumbled forward. The long shaft of the arrow stuck from Ben's cheek, the blood surprisingly less than I had expected, but seeping out all the same. Black in the darkness, like oil. The only movement was Ben's right pinky finger, twitching. I fought the urge to puke.