The Book of Bart Read online

  “You could, but the competition… it’s different. I don’t exactly know what it is. Do you want to fight some third party we have no intel on, especially when it could destroy me instead of you?”

  Smoke escaped from my mouth as I spoke. Every color I saw took on an extra pop as the cigarette’s goodness ran through my body.

  Nicholas leaned against one of the trailers used as a classroom, since the school’s population had outgrown the main building. His eyes darted back and forth, like he tried to calculate the odds. He nodded.

  “You’ve got a point. But,” he said, moving in close. “I won’t be coming after you if this thing goes tits up. I’ll be coming after your angel friend. Let the boys have a run at her, like they did with you.”

  “That could be fun.”

  “After they’re done with her, they’ll come after you. If you think losing your horns is a fate worse than death, you’re very, very wrong. Remember that.” He tossed the pack of Red Circles on the ground.

  I knelt down and cooed over the pack. Such a beautiful sight. I picked up the cigs, then stashed it in my jacket. When I looked up, Nicholas had disappeared. That whole family needed to learn how to properly say goodbye.

  ith fifteen minutes until game time, I took a seat in the bleachers near the marching band, the only students who actually sat in the stands and watched the game. Everyone else just hung out behind the bleachers and socialized. Jenny and the other Homecoming nominees stood by on the track and Sam was cheering, so I had nobody to talk to. With starting quarterback Tyler off at the loony bin, at least the game would be a hoot.

  Jenny locked gazes with me and waved. I grinned and waved back. She looked amazing in her outfit. The wardrobe wasn’t anything special, just tight blue jeans and a low-cut, green, long sleeve shirt, but the clothes hugged everything just enough to show off her tight body, but not so much that she looked like a dime-store hooker. My gaze kept wandering over to Sam, who rocked her cheerleader uniform. I tried not to think of her as a sex object as the game began. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

  The first half of the game flew by. Without Tyler in at quarterback, Frady-McNeely got steamrollered. The backup, a sophomore, got sacked six times in the first half, en route to a 28-0 deficit. That kid was lucky his head didn’t get snapped off. I clapped at the players as they walked past me toward the locker room, applauding their good effort. Three or four of them thanked me with a one-finger salute, the sweeties.

  The marching band stepped onto the field to play the school’s fight song as the cheerleaders thrust their pom poms in the air. When the song ended, the principal made his way over to a makeshift podium and addressed the crowd.

  “Good evening, everybody. Let’s give our football team another hand for that great show of… sportsmanship in the first half,” he said into a microphone.

  There were scattered claps. I even belted out a half-hearted shout. I glanced down at Sam, who looked like she tried to stifle a laugh as she stood with the other cheerleaders.

  “This year’s Homecoming Dance has a special theme,” the principal said. “Awareness. Not necessarily the major issues, but ones that tend to get overlooked by the mainstream. That doesn’t mean they aren’t important, though.”

  The first float that rolled out onto the track featured a small child holding a baby, with the sign Being a teen mom is not the bomb painted on the side. The girls on the float alternated between speaking on phones and gossiping while dealing with baby dolls wrapped in blankets. The rest of the night could turn out to be one of the all-time worst, and it’d still have been worth it to see this cavalcade of good intentions gone wrong.

  The next float stuck with the baby theme. It featured a gnome that looked a lot like Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars, holding a bottle of beer. The slogan for this one? Just say gnome to Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. I bit down on my knuckle to keep from exploding in laughter.

  Sam caught my eye. She must’ve been looking at me to catch my reaction. The angel shook her head, but her lips betrayed the slightest hint of a smile.

  The next float had the slogan We’re bullish on bullying. Every boy and girl on the float looked either very scrawny, overweight, or had acne visible from thirty yards away. I bet their float was nothing more than a cry for help.

  The last float had to have been mandated by the school. I’d heard there’d been a case of arson here last year. I guess the school wanted to keep the memory of the tragedy fresh in people’s minds, because this float simply said that we needed to Kick arson’s butt. It featured students crying over a burnt-out building. So touching.

  The floats came to a stop behind the principal, who clapped and smiled at the students as they waved to the crowd. The entire scene felt so… tacky. I started to get a bad taste in my mouth.

  “Aren’t these floats beautiful?” The principal beamed. The students voted on which of these fantastic floats looked the best earlier in the day. I abstained, choosing to point and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all instead. The principal pulled out two envelopes from his jacket. He tore one of them open and read from the piece of paper inside. “And the winner for best float… Kick arson’s butt.”

  The band played some congratulatory music as the kids on the arson float cried and hugged each other.

  This time, I shook my head at Sam.

  I know, she mouthed.

  Once the students composed themselves, the principal held up the unopened envelope. “And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. At least during halftime. Not to denigrate the football team. We love our boys.”

  The principal cleared his throat. The crowd remained silent, amplifying the awkwardness of his words. He introduced the three finalists for both Homecoming King and Queen, but since the king finalists were either in the locker room or the nuthouse, a la Tyler, he’d announce that one first. He opened the envelope and read Tyler’s name.

  “Unfortunately Tyler can’t be with us tonight, since he’s out dealing with some… health issues,” the principal said. “Get well soon, buddy. We’re all rooting for you.”

  The principal proclaimed that in his stead would be the runner-up, Rob Nelson, a defensive back on the football team.

  Next, the principal called the three finalists for Homecoming Queen up to the stage: Jenny, Monica, and some junior I’d never seen or heard of before. I figured they’d thrown her in so it wouldn’t be such a senior-dominated affair.

  “These three young ladies exemplify everything that makes Frady-McNeely one of the best schools in the state. And the winner is…” the principal said, opening the envelope.

  In an effort to draw out the suspense, he looked at the name of the winner for several seconds, which naturally felt like several hours. Since Vixen’s identity hung in the balance, it seemed more like years. I almost tore the bleachers out, I felt so nervous and excited.

  Monica squealed as the principal called out her name. She hugged Jenny and the other girl, then stepped up next to the principal. The demoness wrapped her arms around him, and then fussed with her hair, so that her crown would fit perfectly on her head. The principal held her hand and led her to the arson float, so they could take a victory lap around the football field.

  I glanced at Jenny, to see how she’d taken the loss. She appeared sincerely happy for Monica, which didn’t come as a surprise. Jenny was a genuinely good person, and I would genuinely have a great time trying to round the bases with her tomorrow night.

  Monica climbed onto the arson float and waved to the crowd, holding a bouquet of flowers the arson students gave her. They hopped off the float, leaving her alone on it. Which is when the entire arson prevention float went up in flames.

  he crowd screamed as flames engulfed the float, and Monica with it. They ran for the bleachers’ exits, trying to get as far from the fire as possible. These people acted so insane, I bet they believed the fire would jump across the track, set the metal bleachers on fire, and burn them alive if they didn’t get away.
Usually, one or two people would try to help in a situation like this, but nobody did. Not one person. Truly a proper display of humanity at its finest. Pride overcame me.

  “Bartholomew,” Sam said.

  Sam’s voice broke me out of my watching-the-ants-flee trance. I sprang from my seat and ran for the float. I knew Monica, being a demon, would be fine, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to languish in the fire for hours. Funny, of all the souls here, only the rogue demon came to the rescue.

  “Can you help her?” Sam ran beside me.

  “She’s okay. She’s a demon, remember? Fire flows through her veins.”

  “So, she’s not hurt?”

  “Don’t be daft. Her uniform, however…that probably went up in a second. All that polyester.” I eyeballed her outfit. “Speaking of, you might want to keep your distance in that thing.”

  Everyone cleared out after a couple of minutes. I heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance. The fire department would be here soon. The fire started dying down once it destroyed most of the float. I walked closer.

  “Unless you want the firemen to see you in the nude, you might want to come out.”

  Monica emerged from under some debris, naked and covered in soot. A hot look for her.

  “What happened? One minute, I’m queen of the universe and the next, it’s like I’m back home.”

  I waved away a floating piece of debris. “It is an arson float. In my opinion, they were asking for it.”

  Monica scowled at me. “You really think this was an accident?”

  Sam and I exchanged glances.

  “Not really,” I said. “Ironically, I think it was arson.”

  “Good to know you’re not completely clueless. Your precious Vixen did this.”

  I removed my jacket and handed it to Monica, hoping she wouldn’t get too much soot and ash on it.

  “Thanks,” she said, wrapping it around her body. Shame. I wouldn’t have minded seeing her naughty parts a bit longer.

  I saw some woods past the football field.

  “We could get you to your car through there,” I said.

  Monica widened her eyes at me, like I’d just said she had bad breath.

  “Why don’t you pull around front and pick me up?”

  “Because, smart girl, look out in the main parking lot. It’s swarming with people who saw you get burned to a crisp.”

  Monica looked toward the parking lot.

  “Right. As much as I’d like to show off the girls, I don’t think that would go over very well.”

  We walked down the track toward the woods as the sirens grew louder. Sam stuck her hands in her pockets.

  “How are we going to explain that you survived the fire without a scratch?”

  Monica buttoned up my jacket. So much for navel-gazing.

  “Believe it or not, this has happened before. Of course, those other times I got burned at the stake, but the principle is still the same.”

  The corner of Sam’s mouth turned upward. She didn’t fully understand.

  “But everyone saw you get engulfed by flames.”

  Monica tsked Sam. “They’ll believe it. Their minds won’t be able to accept the truth. They’ll convince themselves I got out in time. If you haven’t noticed, people don’t have a clue what’s going on around them unless it slaps them in the face with a baseball bat.”

  The demoness did have a point. When recounting the story to others, people would just explain the whole incident as something they couldn’t believe they’d seen. Their minds wouldn’t let them even imagine they’d witnessed a demon survive a fire.

  “I’ll leave the details to you,” I said as we entered the woods. “But there’s still one last thing.”

  Monica glanced at me. “You want to know who Vixen is.”

  “No. I’ve thought it over, and I kind of just want to wait and find out who she is,” I said with a little bit of sarcasm. “Then wing it from there.”

  Sam smacked me on the chest. “No you don’t.”

  “Of course I want to know.”

  “We need to know,” Sam said.

  I cleared my throat, hoping Sam would get the message. She needed to shut her mouth.

  “Why do you need to know so badly?” Monica asked, a wide-eyed look on her face.

  “We’ve just been waiting so long,” Sam said. “I’m dying to know.”

  “We both are,” I laughed.

  Let’s all stop talking and just focus on business, please?

  Monica took a deep breath, giving Sam a sideways glance. “Fine. You held up your end of the bargain. Jenny McPherson didn’t become Homecoming Queen. Only fitting I hold up my end.”

  “Well, out with it,” I said. “We’ve waited long enough.”

  Monica stopped, looking back and forth between us. “All right,” she said. “It’s not an absolute, but then again, what is in life?”

  “Out with it already,” I said.

  Monica laughed. “Before I forget. That other favor you asked me about? You know which one I’m talking about?”

  My head almost exploded like Adam Bomb from the Garbage Pail Kids. She had to bring that up now? “I will send you back to Hell myself if you don’t tell us.”

  Monica smiled and crossed her arms. “Patience is definitely one of your virtues. Well, check your locker about the small thing. As for Vixen, it’s—”

  She started coughing into her hand. The suspense killed me.

  “It’s…oh, that bitch!” Her coughing became more violent. She opened her hand. She’d coughed up some black liquid. Her blood. “It’s the goo—”

  Before she could finish, the Black Cloud of Death appeared, narrowing itself into a long, thin line. The villain flew straight into one ear and out the other, then disappeared out of sight as fast as it had shown up.

  “Monica?” Sam asked.

  The cheerleader lost her balance and fell. I rushed forward and caught her, easing her to the ground. I moved the hair out of her face.

  “Stay with us, Monica. Stay away from the fire. Stay away,” I said.

  Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her body became uncomfortably hot. I jumped to my feet and moved away. Fire engulfed her, returning her to Hell. She’d be topside again at some point, but not in time to help us and probably not in Raleigh. When the fire disappeared, only a scorched, ashy mark on the ground remained.

  “Son of a bitch.” I slammed my fist into a tree, making a crack in the trunk. The impact sounded like thunder. “Can one thing go right? Just one? Is that too much to ask?”

  Sam grabbed my hand and pulled. “Not here.”

  She dragged me, literally kicking and screaming, to her car. As we drove past the flashing lights of the fire trucks, I missed the horns pressing against my skull, begging to be released, when I got angry. They always served as a reminder that I could either get myself under control or unleash the beast within. Now, I’d have to rely on discipline to keep my anger in check, which probably wouldn’t work out very well.

  “Every step of the way,” I said. “Every step we’ve been stopped. I’ve had more success bedding nuns than I have on this thing.”

  “We’ll figure something out. We’re still here. That’s got to count for something.”

  “Not much.” I rubbed my forehead where the horns should’ve been. As angry as I’d gotten, what remained of them didn’t even threaten to break out. I felt around for my pack of Red Circles… which were in my jacket. “Bless it. To Heaven with it all.”

  “What?” Sam looked in my direction.

  “I left my cigarettes in my jacket.” I threw my hands up. I finally got my hands on an entire pack of Red Circles, and they go up in smoke. Typical. “Seriously. Getting booted from upstairs felt pretty terrible, at least at first, but honestly? Right now I couldn’t be more pissed.”

  Sam drove in silence for a minute, as if she didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

  I waved her off. “Save it. I just want to get my claws o
n this Vixen and kill her as slowly as possible.”

  Sam sighed and brushed some hair behind her ear. “I think we’re going to have to use the Shard to find her.”

  “And then, Vixen will show up in her Black Cloud of Death form. Which is all fine and dandy, except we still have no idea how to stop or kill it.”

  “Then we do it where we can dictate what happens and hope there’s enough time to ask the Shard how to stop Vixen.”

  “Like where? A church? It’ll just wait outside until we come out.” What a terrible plan.

  We turned onto Glenwood Avenue and headed downtown, which reminded me of my destroyed condo. Which reminded me of my destroyed cars. And my ruined wardrobe. I punched the dash, pulling back at the last moment so I wouldn’t dent it.

  “Don’t take your anger out on my car,” Sam said. “I have an idea where we can ask the Shard.”

  This should be good.

  “If you say McDonald’s, I’m going to move to Tahiti and never come back. I’m just going to lie out on the beach every day in the buff, letting the native folk and bored tourists flock to me. It’ll be like a rogue demon remix of a Jimmy Buffett song.”

  “We’re going to do it at the Homecoming Dance.”

  “You and me? Not unless you don’t mind Jenny being there.”

  “No, silly. We’re going to use the Shard then.”

  Sweet music to my ears. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it. All those kids in their rented tuxedos and puffy dresses, just hoping to get past first base, and then, bam! Eaten by the death cloud, vanished without a trace. It would be like the Lost Colony all over again. When they had to move inland, as a joke I’d removed all evidence of where they’d gone, except for one cryptic word: Croatoan. I still got a kick out of all the fuss people made about that one to this day.

  “Stop smiling,” Sam said. She must’ve noticed how excited her idea made me. “Nobody’s going to die at this thing.”

  My spirits sank. “Not even a couple of people?”

  “Nope,” Sam said, shaking her head. “Not if we can help it.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You really do take the fun out of everything, don’t you?”