Chapter 15

chapter fifteen Bardle pulls a stone from his rucksack and lifts it to his lips. A small glob of yellow saliva drops onto it. He pitches the stone out into the water. I watch to see where it lands, but crashing waves hide the splash. For a long moment, nothing happens. But then the wooden pier creaks, a chill cuts through me, and the waves go flat. The water is still. Up above, a large cloud drifts by. It blocks the moon and everything goes dark. When the cloud passes, I gasp. Something ripples in the water—a football field away. Oh, real quick—a weird thing about me, I don't even really love football, but any distance—I measure in football fields. How far is it from here to Arkansas? I dunno—492 football fields?

And then it happens.... I see the creature rising out of the water and it takes all my strength to resist making a break for it. Actually, it takes more than that— Hold that thought. Let's See how this plys out, The surging sea creature is so big that the water rushing off its body, smashing the surface, sounds like a rainstorm. Dirk takes a shaky step backward and stutters, "It's—it's—" "The Scrapken," I say. "Bardle, the Scrapken tried to kill us!"

"Yes, you have told me the story," Bardle says. "As I understood it, you broke into its home. Destroyed things. Played games atop its head." "Well, when you say it like that..." I mutter. "Also, I don't think we technically played games atop its head. It was a sleepover." It's still rising—the Scrapken is bigger than I ever realized. At the junkyard, half of its body must have been buried beneath the ground. Bardle turns with a grim smile. "Let us make sure the Nightmare King is not playing inside your head, Dirk. The Scrapken, as you call it, always eats what it kills. And the digestive process is slow...." The Scrapken rises to its full height. One tentacle lifts out of the water and extends toward us, setting its tip down gently on the pier—but the tremendous weight of the thing causes the rickety wood to shift and moan. The tentacle unfolds outward—like a platform—and there's this feeling like an elevator door is opening.

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I've fought ferocious monsters. I've run from undead hordes. This is different. It feels like this creature was always here. I mean, it wasn't—it came through the portals. But it doesn't feel like an intruder. A gentle push at my back. Dirk. go. I think it wants us to like go. How about you first? You know, since we're here for your brain, if it was my brain, that was being weird, I would totally go first. Dirk mumbles under his breath, then takes a heavy step past me. Argh, now I feel lame. I

hurry to keep up. Together, Dirk and I step onto the large flat tentacle. It's squishy, like standing on a gym mat soaked in sweat. The tentacle dips once more as Bardle steps behind us. Slowly, we are lifted—the tentacle carrying us out, over the crashing waves, and up toward the creature's mouth and eye. It's overwhelming. Three small figures standing in the palm of a monster's hand. A monster that could crush, swallow, devour us if it wanted. Bardle looks nervous, too—not a great sign. He cracks his knuckles. Not like us—where it's a quick snap or two. It sounds like a hundred bones, cracking like dominoes. Then—