The Dark Corner by Christopher Pike Page A

he said. “It’s the only way to drive them wild, and make sure they follow us.”
    â€œWhat grocery store are we headed for?” Cindy asked.
    â€œFred’s Foods. It’s open twenty-four hours a day. Ann Templeton shops there every Friday evening.”
    â€œYou know her? We were in her castle.”
    Bryce nodded. “I heard about that. You were lucky to get out alive.” He glanced through the garage window at the demons. “We’ll both be lucky to survive tonight. Get on that bike and get ready. I’m going to trip the garage door opener. Save your flare for now. Mine should be enough to grab their attention.”
    With that, Bryce struck his flare. In the dark of the closed garage, the burning color struck a knot of fear deep into Cindy’s heart. How similar the light was in color to the light that had blazed in the three demons’ eyes at Harry’s Hamburgers. Briefly, Cindy prayed that Harry was all right. Vaguely she remembered Adam’s striking him, and the manfalling to the floor. Adam must be a demon to knock out a grown man.
    Bryce pushed the garage door opener.
    Cindy positioned herself on Adam’s bike, ready to take off.
    The garage door creaked upward.
    The demons came into view.
    They had stopped their dancing.
    They were staring at Bryce and Cindy.
    â€œGo!” Bryce cried as he shoved forward on Watch’s bike.
    The demons were as quick as Bryce had predicted. Even though Bryce and Cindy were on bikes and had the whole yard between them and the demons—and supposedly the element of surprise—the demons almost grabbed them as they swept by. In fact, one of the demons—it was Sally’s—reached out with long nails and managed to scratch Cindy’s left arm. Cindy felt a stinging sensation and then the trickle of blood over her skin. She cried out as she pedaled into the center of the street, pushing the bike harder than she had ever pushed anything in her life. Beside her, Bryce barely kept ahead of Adam’s and Watch’s demons. The flare burned in Bryce’s right hand and the demons howled at the sight of it.
    â€œHead for the center of town!” Bryce called over. “Stay ahead of me!”
    â€œI’m trying!” Cindy called back.
    â€œRemember what must be done!”
    â€œI remember,” Cindy replied, but quietly, more to herself. Straining to stay a few feet ahead of the demons, she felt more afraid than she could ever remember. And the worst part was still to come. How could she close the door on Bryce and leave him to the demons’ mercy?
    And what if he had to close the door on her?
    Ten minutes later it looked like that might be what had to happen.
    For some reason, after only ten minutes, Bryce’s flare began to go out. It must have been defective. Cindy knew most flares were designed to burn for at least a half hour. Of course there was no time to take the thing back to the store and complain. For all she knew, Bryce had bought it at Fred’s Fat Food. The bottom line was that she now had to strike her own flare. As she did so, the demons immediately focused on her. Fortunately, just before the grocery store there were two hundred yards of downhill riding, and she knew she’d be able to put a small distance between herself and her pursuers. Bryce called over to her. His flare was all but dead.
    â€œThrow me the flare!” he said.
    Cindy glanced over her shoulder. The demons’ eyes burned as they had that afternoon. She had to fight not to stare into them, to be drawn into their evil depths. Inside, she could feel them willing her to slow down. She wasn’t completely free of their spell.
    â€œNo!” she called back. “There’s no way you can catch it! You’ll burn your hand!”
    â€œI don’t mind a little burn! Throw me the flare!”
    â€œNo! They’ll get away! I’ll lead them where I have to!”
    Bryce stared over