Page 20 of Jacob Michaels is Dead

Screams reached Jason’s ears as he stumbled out of the circus tent, clutching his bleeding arm, breathing raggedly, his eyes out of focus as he did his best to stay on his feet. CARNAVAL was in full swing, the rides—sans riders—swooped and swirled, their lights shooting a dazzling array of lights into the night sky. The screams of the two boys were getting further away. Freshly popped popcorn, fresh cotton candy, funnel cakes, corn dogs, and other carnival treats perfumed the air as Jason fells to his knees, his vision like that of a person underwater.

Why did he hurt so bad?

He’d just been bitten once.

Before he got away.

Jason gasped and clutched his chest as a sharp pain shot through his body like a lightning bolt. He bowed his head, trying to focus on the ground, doing anything he could to clear his vision.

What had happened? He suddenly couldn’t remember.

Shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts, he did his best to let his mind ride the waves of pain shooting through his chest.

Something was wrong.

He’d been bitten.

By a…wolf?

Where’d the wolf come from?

He’d been watching the circus performers. Why had there been a wolf in the freaking circus?

The posters.

On Main Street.

They’d been everywhere.

The carnival—CARNAVAL—had come to town. They had set up fences and rides and stands and tents out on the old Owens’ land by the lake. The posters had invited all high school-age children to come participate in the carnival for free. Jason had gotten a few of his friends together, and they all decided to go check it out. They were the only students to show up…except for that Lucas kid who was just starting out in football. And that other kid…what was his name? Robbie. That was his name. He had shown up last. They were watching the acrobats and clowns…and…the ringmaster.

Something had happened. There were wolves suddenly. They had attacked everyone.

Jason coughed violently, holding his chest with both hands, doing his best to not topple headfirst onto the trampled down grass before him.

When his coughing fit past, he leaned back on his knees, looking up at the sky, watery stars and moon blurry in his vision. The screaming of the two boys—Lucas and Robbie—had suddenly gone. Had a wolf gotten them? Jason panted heavily as another wave of pain, and also nausea, coursed through his body. He looked toward the gates that led out of CARNAVAL. Maybe he could get up…get help. Get away from the wolves. Fear shot through his body, realizing that any of the wolves might stray from the tent and the easier prey…and come after him again.

As he looked toward the gates, even with his blurry, watery vision, he could see the figure coming towards him. He could just make out the red coat and black top hat. It was the ringmaster. Jason panted harder, clutched his chest tighter, as the man approached him at a leisurely stroll. When the ringmaster finally stopped before him, nearly close enough to reach out and touch, yet not quite, Jason looked up at him, his vision suddenly clear.

“Well,” the ringmaster—Richart maybe?—said, “they were faster than they appeared, I’m afraid. Just disappeared. Strong magics, I assume.”

The ringmaster laughed bitterly.

“Fucking Oracles and Guardians.” He ‘tsked.’ “They always ruin a good time, you know?”

“What?” Jason gasped, his fingers clutching at his chest.

Richart bowed ever so slightly, his eyes boring into Jason’s.

“No matter.” Richart sniffed the air. “You’ll do. I’m going to give you a choice, Jason Morris. You must make the right decision. And you must do it quickly.”

Jason shivered at the sound of something with more than two legs sauntering out of the tent.

“I need your allegiance.” Richart smiled wickedly.

Lucas yanked the sleeve of his shirt from the wolf’s teeth as I spun the car around. I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t drive the car and also fight the wolf who was trying to yank him out of the car. For once, I was going to have to trust that Lucas could handle himself. Besides, when I looked up, throwing the car into “Drive,” my eyes locked on the red, glowing eyes of a wolf clinging to the hood of the car. How the fuck was it holding on without human hands? The screech of metal let me know that a werewolf’s claws were good for finding purchase on almost anything. My lip turned up in a snarl as I hit the gas again, flinging us forward like a cannonball.

“Fuck you!” Lucas bellowed.