Decimate

Chapter Twenty Nine--Sean--Ooh! Red Velvet! Wait...

I thought it was hilarious when the cranky guy attacked the woody guy.

I also thought it was hilarious when the woody guy smacked him into a wall.

Actually, right now everything was hilarious.

I rolled on the ground, too overcome with laughter to do anything else.

Hey, that's pretty funny!

While I rolled, a voice in the back of my head screamed at me. They told me to get up, to stop laughing and do something. I wonder who it is?

I caught a glimpse of a boy with pink hair imitating my movements. Pink hair! Ha!

The brown haired boy was still fighting the woody guy, but he was losing. Hilarious!

After a minute or so, my laughter began to die down. Why was I laughing in the first place?

I sat up and gasped as I saw Dan being held in the air with an ax to his throat. Mark's dagger lay on the floor below him

I swiftly grabbed my spear, then flung myself at the creature, stabbing the bronze tip into it's back.

The creature—I think it said it was a Leshy?—roared in pain and surprise and dropped Dan to the floor, swinging his ax wildly.

Somehow, I held on, attempting to drive my spear further into it's bark-covered flesh.

"You fools!" He roared. "If you kill me, you'll never find the location you seek!"

I tightened my grip on my spear. "And if you attack us, you'll die. So it seems we're at an impasse."

Dan struggled to sit up, glaring at the beast. "We'll let you go free if you tell us where."

The Leshy continued to thrash until I twisted my spear, which was still embedded in his back. He roared. "Very well, the boy is being kept at Greylock state reservation. Find the ruins."

I very gently began to pull out my spear, intending on honoring our agreement, but the creature roared in pain, kicking Dan into the window, which cracked.

But suddenly it stiffened, and dissolved into yellow dust. I fell to the floor with my spear, and glanced up to see Mark with his dagger outstretched.

"So," Dan groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I think we can agree no more taking food from strangers."

I laughed, letting the tension flow from my shoulders to be replaced by guilt. "Agreed."

Mark nodded, then flopped onto the floor, holding his abdomen. "Ugh. My stomach hurts from laughing."

Dan crossed his arms. "Well my chest hurts from being knocked into a wall."

Guilt stabbed through me. "Sorry."

He looked me in the eyes and sighed. "It's fine."

I smiled, feeling a bit better. "Are you guys feeling okay enough to go?"

Mark looked around. "I'm up for it."

Dan nodded.

"And," I said, my optimism suddenly skyrocketing. "Now we know where Phil is! We can find him!"

Dan grinned for the first time in days. "We're gonna find Phil!" He hopped to his feet, then yelped, wrapping his arms around his abdomen.

Mark rushed up to him and supported his weight. I suddenly noticed how pale and sweaty Dan was. And there was a dark spot on his shirt.

I lifted the gray fabric gently and pursed my lips together as I saw the gash. I assumed it was from the Leshy's ax, and it was ugly. Luckily the wound wasn't too deep.

"You hold him," I told Mark. "I'll be right back."

I went behind the counter and into the back room. Then gagged.

There were giant mixing bowls filled with batter, but there were also... the bodies.

Body parts were strewn about the room like dirty laundry. Blood spattered the floor and walls. Some of the cake batter looked suspiciously red.

I kept my eyes open, as much as I wanted to squeeze them shut. I was hoping to find some bandages, or even better, some— "Aha!" I exclaimed, lifting up a small glass bottle filled with nectar. I knew ambrosia healed faster, but this should heal Dan pretty fast. I raced back out and put the bottle against the wounded boy's lips. I decided to stay silent about the bodies in the back.

Dan took a gulp of the drink, and I quickly pulled it away and capped it, placing it in my bag. There wasn't much left, but anything would help.

"Agh," Dan muttered. "I'm fine."

Ignoring him, I lifted up his shirt again, to see the wound was now a faint pink line. He was in fact, fine.

I stood and grabbed his arm, hoisting him to his feet.

Dan glanced around the room, before locking his eyes on a certain ax and stumbling over to it. He picked it up in his hands, and it shrank to be the right size.

"I like it," he said. "I'm keeping it."

I decided not to tell him what it had done in the back room.

"Are you feeling good enough to walk?" Mark asked. "We should try to get going."

Dan stretched a bit and winced. "I'm a little sore, but I can walk. Let's go."

And then, thankfully, we left the pink bakery behind.