The Monster Apocalypse

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Brin was ready to crawl to the back of the van and slap her only sibling.

But then he smiled, crossed his arms, and shook his head, playfully, like he was three years old. "Just fooling you, sis," the college student said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"What?" Brin said, her mouth wide open, horrified. "That was a joke? That wasn't cool, Justin! Not cool!"

"Brin, I'm not going to let you out of my sight. Where you go, I go. And I'm going to do what I've always done, ever since we were little kids: make sure you're safe."

"No offense, dude," Dylan said, "but you didn't exactly keep Brin safe the first time we went to Bodie, or when our high school became infested with zombies. Where were you then, brother boy?"

"Well, I couldn't help her if I wasn't there. I don't understand your argument."

Dylan bit down on his tongue and crossed his arms, obviously upset he was the only one considering not re-entering the gates of horror for a second time. He looked at the front of the van to see Brin staring right back at him, telling him with her eyes, "we all have to stick together."

He looked at Brent, who for the last three years in that downstairs newspaper room had been the object of his affection, with never more than a wink or a flirtatious glance to accommodate his yearning. But now here he was, holding onto the man tight—and even though Brent was still not willing to call himself a bona fide queer, he was finally showing some affection toward Dylan. After all these years, his dream had come true. It was certain to him now: good things could happen.

Brin had already started turning herself around in the front passenger seat, when Dylan said, "All right. Fine. I'm in, too."

"What?" She looked back, happily startled by Dylan's words.

"You heard me. I don't want anything to happen to you guys. If I can be there, to help in any way I can, as much as I can't stand the thought of going back to that horrible place—I'm in."

"We're all in," Brent added, tapping the seat in front of him.

"Well shit, guys," Brin said. "I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say," Ash said, leaning forward. He was the one to take Brin's hands this time, and then he went a step farther—he kissed her softly on her cheek. He turned to his left and playfully kicked the back of Mr. Barker's seat. "Except that Mr. Barker needs to step on it! The faster we get there, the faster we can end this."

"All of this," Brin added.

"Because it's not just what we want or need to have happen. It's what has to happen. Droz, and all his followers, and that old, decrepit town, are going down."

Brin had rarely thought of her best friend in that way before, but Brin considered another kiss with Ash, this one on the lips. She patted him on his shoulder instead, then sat back in her seat and turned to Mr. Barker. He had the most serious expression on his face of anyone in the van. He looked focused, determined, like he didn't want anyone to get in his way. They were heading toward Topaz Lake, the California state border, small-town Bridgeport, and the blink-and-you'll-miss-it turn off to Bodie. Mr. Barker wasn't going to wait until the morning. He, clearly, wanted to get there tonight.

Brin didn't say a word to the Film teacher. She just rested her head back and looked out the front windshield, happy that no cars were slowing them down, that no light was revealing to the rest of the world their suspicious whereabouts. Droz had to know she was coming, but the big bad couldn't have had a clue that an army this large was on its way. She smiled and looked out her window. The black clouds loomed overhead; the mountain peaks in the distance showed off hints of snow. Brin started to close her eyes. With still another hour and a half of driving to go, Brin wondered if this was the only time to catch a wink before the epic finale.