Нил Шустерман - The Shadow Club

“I can’t afford to be suspended either! That kind of thing stays on your record forever,” said O.P.

“So what do we do, Jared?”

“Yeah, what do we do?”

“There’s only one thing we can do,” I said. “We have to get Tyson. The only way we can clear ourselves is to make Tyson confess.”

“I say we take the little creep and give him a taste of his own medicine!” said Abbie. Most everyone agreed.

“We don’t even have to do that. Making him confess is all we have to do.”

“Yeah, but we want revenge!” They all agreed on that. I have to admit, I wanted revenge, too—revenge for what he had done to my good friend Austin Pace.

“He’ll be home with his aunt and uncle, or whatever they are. Our best chance is to tell them what Tyson’s done. Unless they’re as bad as Tyson, they’ll believe us, and Tyson will be forced to confess.”

“What if they don’t believe us?” asked O.P.

“What if they’re ax murderers like Ralphy Sherman says?” asked Jason.

“Shut up about that, OK?” I said. “They’ll believe us— they have to.” I looked at my watch. “If we’re going to do it, we have to go now. It’s almost three o’clock. Greene will be looking for us. Let’s go.”

I began to lead the way.

“Wait a minute,” said Cheryl. “Randall won’t be able to find us.”

“Where could he have gone?” I asked.

“With Randall, there’s no telling.”

“You want to wait for him?”

“No,” she said, “but I guess I have to. When you see Tyson, give him a good punch for me, OK?”

I turned and led the other four to Tyson’s lighthouse.

We didn’t talk much as we crossed through the woods and then the grassy field toward the lighthouse. It was getting colder, but it didn’t bother me. Dark clouds were looming out over the ocean, but they were nothing compared to the storm clouds within each of our minds as we approached Tyson’s front door.

As we got closer, I noticed that there was no car parked beside the house, as there had been the night I had spied on Tyson.

“Wait here,” I said, and keeping low, I snuck around the house, looking into every window, leaving Tyson’s window for last. Tyson was alone in the house, sitting at his desk, working on those ridiculous marionettes. This was perfect! Perfect! It was even better than I had hoped for.

I ran around to the living room window, which was open just a crack, carefully took off the screen, quietly worked the window wide open, then got the others.

“Hello, Tyson.”

Tyson jumped about a mile when he heard me, sending the scissors and string in his hands flying across the room. His eyes went as wide as his beady little eyes could get. What a shocker that must have been, to see the five of us standing there, right at the threshold of his bedroom!

“Get up,” I said calmly. Tyson looked at me, still shocked to see us there.

“I SAID, GET UP!”

“Get out of my house!” he said weakly.

I went up to him and pulled him out of his chair by his shirt, hearing it rip slightly.

“I’ll call the police, and then you’ll be in trouble!” he yelled. I ignored him.

“I like your room, Tyson,” I said. “Nice view of the ocean you got here, isn’t it? But what’s that I smell, Tyson? What is it?”

“You better shut up!” he growled.

“Hey, Darren,” I said. “Why don’t you take the sheets off his bed? I think that’s where the smell’s coming from.” Darren did what he was told and pulled back the blanket. The sheet underneath was clean, but when he pulled that away, there lay Tyson’s rubber sheet for everyone to see. Tyson struggled, and I put him into a full nelson.

“Wow,” said Jason. “You mean Tyson pees in his bed?”

“Oh, didn’t you know that?” I said. “He does it every night. It’s a wonder he doesn’t have to wear diapers.” Tyson struggled and I made the nelson tighter, pushing down on his head until he could barely move. “Did you know, Tyson, that Austin broke his ankle and he may never run again?” I forced the nelson even tighter. “I just thought you should know.”

“I hate you!” he screamed. “I hate you!”

“The feeling’s mutual!”

“You stupid Gopher,” he said, and then something in my mind snapped. It was as if suddenly I wasn’t me anymore—I was someone else— something else. Something evil. It was like I was possessed. I jerked Tyson around and took him out through the front door. He struggled all the way, kicking, knocking down lamps, leaving black footprints on the wall.

When I got him outside, I let him go, only to slug him full force in the face. He reeled and grunted, and I popped him one in the eye, then gave him an upper cut to the chin.

I couldn’t stop! I was out of control. Then the rest of the club grabbed him, and held him back so he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even defend himself, and still I pounded away at him, thinking about Austin, and Vera, and Drew, and the rest.

I kept delivering punches to his stomach, as he tried to kick me away.

“Do I get a turn?” asked Jason.

“How about me?” asked Abbie. “For Vera!”

Finally I stopped. “Are you going to confess?” I growled at him, and in his pain he looked at me and said, “I don’t confess to anything!”

I stepped right up to him, grabbing his shirt again, making sure I tugged it hard enough to rip it, and then, well, I’ll never forget what I did next—I’ll never believe it either; it will live on in my own nightmares.

I spat at him. Just like Randall had done, I spat at Tyson. I’m not proud of it; I’m pretty ashamed of it—all of it, if you must know—but that’s what I did. Then I let go of him, and the club grabbed him, holding him back.

That dark cloud that had been in my mind was now in my blood, filling up my whole body. It was hatred—evil hatred—mixed with power, and together those two things are more dangerous than nitroglycerin. It filled me and took me over. At that moment none of us were the kids we had been before; we were monsters filled with one desire: destroy Tyson McGaw.

I stood there like Darth Vader, breathing the power. The power of club leader. I had Tyson McGaw in the palm of my hand, and all I could think to do with him was crush him— like I would crush a soda can.

“Take him to Stonehenge,” I said.

“Yes, yes, to Stonehenge!” echoed the rest.

While they carried Tyson away, I called Jason over. “Go get all of his puppets,” I said. “Tear down that clothesline and bring it along, and don’t forget to bring the scissors.”

At Stonehenge, while Jason played with the marionettes, the rest of us tied Tyson’s arms to two separate trees with two pieces of clothesline. There was enough slack so that it wouldn’t hurt, but he could barely move his arms.

Cheryl had vanished, leaving me alone as leader. She had probably gone off to look for Randall and would be back soon.

“You’ll go to jail!” screamed Tyson, losing his voice. “All of you will! You’ll see. When my uncle and Mr. Greene hear about it, you’ll all be expelled from school! You’ll see!”

I stood back, leaning against the wall of Stonehenge, letting the dark power flow through me. I watched as, by my command, the members of the Shadow Club yelled nasty things back at Tyson about him and his family, and pelted him with pinecones.

Jason, who had been examining the marionettes, turned to me and said, “Hey, these puppets are of us!” He was right. Now, looking closely at them, what I had first thought to be a coincidence was no coincidence at all. The entire Shadow Club was here, as well as some teachers, and other kids at school.