Spirits in the Park by Scott Mebus Page A

The streets were empty.
    â€œI ran into Tucket when I was running back,” she said before head-butting Bill in the face. “He was already on your trail and I followed him.”
    â€œWhere is he, then?”
    â€œI sent him back to get the others!”
    â€œWhy didn’t you send Tucket to me while you went back and got the others?”
    Bridget paused, glancing back at her brother.
    â€œI didn’t think of that,” she admitted, shrugging sheepishly. Sensing an opening, Bill thrust her off him, sending her skidding across the road.
    â€œI don’t know what you are,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “But anything can be carved up with enough swings of the cleaver.” He reached into his belt to pull out another wicked knife. Rory ran over to his sister’s side and pulled her to her feet.
    â€œWe gotta run for it,” he whispered urgently.
    â€œBut the reinforcements are coming . . .” she answered. Rory glanced back at Bill, who was advancing warily, cleaver in hand.
    â€œBy the time they get here, I’ll be cut into steaks and you’ll be the plates he serves me on.”
    â€œOkay, fine.” Bridget pouted. She reached up and yanked the cleaver from her shoulder, making Rory wince. “Ready,” she whispered, holding the weapon loosely in her hand.
    â€œNow!” Rory shouted, and Bridget threw the cleaver right at Bill’s face. The kidnapper barely got his other cleaver up in time to deflect the blow, and in that moment of confusion, Rory grabbed Bridget’s hand and took off.
    The siblings raced down the side street toward Broadway. They could barely see where they were going in the darkness of the blackout, but they could hear Bill’s curses as he chased them. Rory hoped that they’d run into the Rattle Watch, coming to rescue them, but the streets remained deserted. And by the sound of it, Bill wasn’t too far behind.
    Broadway seemed impossibly far. Rory realized they had to try something different if they were to escape. They had to use the darkness to their advantage. Rory spied an alley up ahead and decided to chance a right turn. He pulled Bridget toward the passage as a gust of air kissed his ear, followed by the thwack of a cleaver landing right in the center of Bridget’s back.
    â€œWhat is with this guy!” Bridget cried, trying to look behind her at the weapon sticking out from between her shoulder blades. “Who throws cleavers? Honestly!”
    Rory shushed her as he pulled her into the alley. They didn’t stop running, sprinting down the narrow space between the buildings. The siblings could barely see in front of them, and Rory almost fell as he stumbled over some cans. A muffled curse behind them told them that they weren’t alone in their difficult maneuvering through the dark. Rory had the sinking sensation that entering the alley hadn’t been the best move. It slowed them all up, but Bill was just a cleaver’s throw away from ending this chase for good.
    Rory quickly glanced around for some other escape route, but he couldn’t find any. He spied a Dumpster and he pulled Bridget behind it, crouching down in the hope the kidnapper would pass.
    Footsteps approached, deliberate, sending loud echoes through the alley. Rory bent over to peer beneath the slightly raised Dumpster; he spied two black boots passing right by them. He held his breath, hoping Bill would keep walking. Bridget rustled behind him and the boots slowed. His heart in this throat, Rory turned to keep Bridget quiet. She was tugging at the cleaver in her back, finally yanking it free with a light grunt. Rory made a fierce face at her, willing her to be quiet. He returned to peering at his kidnapper from beneath the Dumpster.
    The boots had stopped moving entirely, and the toe of the right shoe turned toward them. Bill had heard, and he was coming right for them. Rory took a deep breath; maybe the element