The Hanging Hill

111

Zack pretended he was the one operating the cable, lowering the harness.

“Let Derek go!” he said to Grimes as soon as his feet touched the floor. Or else I’ll change my mind.”

Again Grimes looked to the floor. “Grandpa?”

Zack could see through the floor. Down below, there was an old man with a purple towel wrapped around his head. The throbbing glow from a fire smoldering under his feet deepened the furrows in his face and made him look terrifying.

“Can I let the other boy go, Grandpa?” Grimes asked.

The demon under the floor sneered up at Derek. He flicked out his tongue. “Fine.” He huffed. “Let the coward run away. He won’t get far.”

“Hey!” Derek protested. Then he heaved a raspy wheeze.

Zack put his hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Go upstairs, Derek.”

“What? I want to help you guys!”

“You know, I’ll never forget when we first met,” Zack said, sounding all choked up. “How you gunned your little truck.”

“What?”

“Go upstairs. Play with your truck.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Go. Gun. Your truck.”

Derek stared at Zack. Zack raised his eyebrows. Twice.

“Oh.” Finally. Derek understood what Zack was trying to tell him. “Yeah. My truck. Good idea.” He bolted for the open door, running faster than anyone with allergies should be able to.

“How you holding up?” Zack whispered to Meghan.

“This is scary, Zack. They want to toss us on the grill.”

“I know. It’s what they did to Juggler Girl. Mr. Kimble told me.”

“Silence!” Grimes shouted. “We have wasted enough time. The dog moon has risen. It is time for the hounds of hell to rise with it! Say the words.”

Zack needed to buy a little more time. Not much. Just enough.

“Hakeem? Hand him the scroll!”

The swarthy man handed Zack a rolled-up tube of ancient papyrus.

“Recite the words!”

Zack adjusted his glasses and dropped the scroll. The brittle document shattered.

“Whoops. Sorry!”

He bent over to pick up the pieces off the floor. Scanned the room. Two guys with guns.

He wished there was only one. They’d have a better chance with just one. Two was going to be tough. He looked up at the trapdoor.

Very tough. Maybe impossible.

“Hurry up, Zack Jennings!” snarled a familiar demon: Mad Dog Murphy. He and his electric chair were under the floor with the others. “I told you I’d be comin’ back to get you, boy!”

They’d have one chance. One shot.

“Mr. Jennings?” said Grimes. “Recite the words! Now! Miss McKenna? Prepare to enter the vast unknown!”

“No!” said Meghan. “I won’t do it. You can’t make me!”

One of the thugs raised his gun, pointed it at Meghan’s heart. He cocked the trigger. Zack heard the sharp metallic click.

“Wait!” said Zack. “If you shoot Meghan, Moloch won’t get his live human sacrifice!”

“Give me that gun!” Grimes wrestled the revolver out of the muscleman’s hand. “The boy’s right! The ritual will only work if we exchange their lives for the lives of those down below.” He hurled the pistol into the fire pit under the grill.

The gunpowder inside the shells exploded like lethal popcorn. Zack heard five bullets ping against metal.

Good.

Meant they only had one gun now.

“Are you happy, little Miss Movie Star?” Grimes screamed. “Nobody’s going to shoot you. We’re just going to roast you alive like my father tried to roast me! Like he roasted my sister!”

A sixth bullet exploded.

That was when Zack heard metal start to screech.

Up near the top of the statue.

Near its mouth.