Dweller - Jeff Strand [32]
Toby was sure that Owen didn’t understand the plot, but he seemed to enjoy being read to, particularly when Toby laced the reading with sound effects. He mimicked the sound of an armored car plowing into a crowd of six tied-up hostages.
They made up lots of new games. Owen had trouble understanding most of the rules, but even something generic like Twenty Questions was a lot more interesting when playing it with a hideous monster. Tag was a little too dangerous and was discontinued after one session.
“Let’s try it again. Owen. Owe-wen. Say it.”
Owen silently stared at him.
“C’mon, you can do it. Owen. Oooowwwwen. Say your name.”
Owen contorted his mouth and made a low, growly noise that sounded nothing like his name.
Toby gave him a thumbs-down sign. “You’re not getting it. Owen. Just start with ‘Owe.’ Owe.”
“Ahh-ehh.”
“Better, sort of. A little disturbing, but definitely on the right track. Let’s keep trying. Owen. Owe-wen.”
“You know what he did?” Toby asked. “So I’m sitting there at lunch, and he asks to see what I’m writing, like he always does. You’d think he’d have outgrown that by now—we’re sophomores, right? But no, he tries to grab my notebook, and I yank it away, and I knock over my can of root beer. And everybody in the cafeteria starts applauding, and J.D. is laughing as if it wasn’t his fault! I wanted to make him eat the can. I swear, Owen, sometimes I’d like to just bring you to school and turn you loose.”
Owen walked back into his cave.
“Oh, well, gee, that’s not rude or anything! Sure, just walk away while I’m sharing my personal misery with you.”
He’d never quite worked up the nerve to walk back into Owen’s cave. He was very comfortable around Owen, but still…walking into a dark, narrow cave with a monster didn’t seem like a particularly good idea. Out in the open, he at least had some potential for running to safety if Owen went wild. In the cave, he was dead for sure.
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll go home now,” he announced. “Thanks for lending a supportive ear. I appreciate it.”
Owen walked back out of the cave. He held a skull.
The lower jaw was missing, and there was a pretty large crack in the center of the cranium, but apart from that the skull was intact. Any flesh or hair that might have been on it was completely gone. Toby had no way to be certain exactly whose skull it was, but he was pretty sure that he could narrow it down to one of two people.
Owen extended the skull toward him.
“Uh-uh,” said Toby. “That was a one-time thing. I mean a two-time thing. It’s never going to happen again.”
He could do it, though. Figure out a reason to lure J.D. out into the woods, show him the cave, and let Owen have another hearty meal. Then Toby could draw whatever he wanted in peace.
Owen tapped the skull against Toby’s chest, as if urging him to take it. Toby recoiled.
“Stop it. You don’t get to eat anybody else. I’m lucky I’m not in prison right now, and you’re lucky you’re not in a zoo. Why do you still have that thing? Bury it or eat it or something, okay?”
Owen prodded him again.
“Not a chance. I’m not going to bring anybody to you, and I’m sure as hell not going to stab anybody again. Do you want to know how often I see their bloody faces? Every goddamn night. I used to have cool fantasies. I used to pretend I was zapping aliens. Now I just keep thinking about what I did. Did you know that I can hardly even think about girls? I’m serious. I’m not sorry they’re dead, don’t get me wrong, but I’m going to be dealing with this for the rest of my life. So find your own meal.”
He yanked the skull out of Owen’s hand. He couldn’t trust his friend to properly hide it again. He’d just bury it on the way home.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to flip out on you, but that part of my life is over, okay? Still friends, right?” He forced a smile and gave Owen a thumbs-up gesture.
Owen tapped the skull with his talon.
“Friends, right?” Toby repeated.
Owen returned the thumbs-up gesture.
“Good. I have to get home. See you tomorrow.”
As Toby walked home with