Dance of the Red Death (Masque of the Red Death) by Bethany Griffin Read Free Book Online Page B

great reptiles slithering toward us from every direction. Their wakes are like a starburst.
    Elliott scans the line of trees and sets his jaw grimly.
    The gunman fires again, shattering the window behind Elliott.
    “April!” Elliott shouts, but she’s already firing. My ears ring.
    Elliott pries the girl from the dead boy and shoves her up onto the sagging wooden stairs. Can crocodiles climb stairs?
    The girl lets out a low wail, and then Kent is there, pulling her up and handing Elliott a gun. Elliott stands tall. He raises his hand in a half salute, half wave, mocking whoever just shot at him and missed.
    “I can’t leave him,” the girl says, her voice clear in the sudden silence.
    “He’s dead,” Elliott says, his eyes on the swamp.
    “But—” Her gaze is frozen on the dead boy’s face. She’s straining against Kent’s grip. I know the broken look on her face all too well. April climbs down, stopping just above where Kent stands.
    “Stay here,” I say to the children. Ignoring the pain in my shoulder, I crawl across the last few feet of roof to where the house has fallen away.
    The broken timbers form a natural ladder, so at least I can climb down, without taking a leap like Elliott did. Will is standing at the first turn of the staircase. I move to pass him, but he puts his hand on my arm.
    The girl is a thin little waif, but even streaked with swamp grime, she is lovely. Though the white mask covers most of her face, her big grief-stricken eyes are visible.
    “Elliott, here.” I toss down my cloak, and he catches it with one hand. “Cover his face, and then get back up here!”
    He catches the cloak but doesn’t indicate he heard my request or the urgency in my voice. “Show yourself!” he calls. I’m near enough to see that his eyes give lie to his calm demeanor. He’s scanning every possible hiding place in the swamp. His finger caresses the trigger of the gun.
    April, now halfway down the staircase, has her own poised and ready. Will’s hand tightens on my arm, and Kent peers through his binoculars.
    “Whoever is out there isn’t stupid. He’s not going to reveal himself. Araby is right. Get to the roof—move!” Kent pushes the girl up the staircase.
    Elliott isn’t moving. It’s like he’s offering himself as a target.
    April lists to the side, putting most of her weight on the banister.
    No one else seems to realize how weak she is. My heart pounds in my ears. I try to call out, but my voice has faded to nothing.
    April’s musket clatters down the stairs half a second before she collapses.
    Elliott turns, and another gunshot tears across the swamp.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    I FINALLY FIND MY VOICE AND SCREAM. I LUNGE forward, but Will keeps me from diving down the stairs, holding me back from both April and Elliott. I’m not even sure who I’m trying to reach first.
    April is lying on the stairway in a faint, and the surprise on Elliott’s face would be comical if his cheek weren’t covered in blood.
    “Everyone get back to the airship,” Kent calls. “It just grazed him.”
    Elliott raises his sleeve to his face, and his eyes blaze.
    Will lifts April and carries her up the stairs. How will we hoist her up onto the roof?
    The girl raises her hand, perhaps to beg us not to leave her friend here for the crocodiles, but no one is paying attention. Kent climbs up, and Will hands April to him. He has Elise and Henry in tow.
    “Come with me,” I say to the girl. The look she gives me is far from grateful, but she obeys.
    As we climb to the roof, Kent drops an ax to Elliott. He chops at the stairs, kicking the rotted wood down into the water.
    Crocodiles swarm below, snapping at one another. The boy’s body has already disappeared. I pull the girl away from the edge so she can’t see, and then turn back in case Elliott needs help.
    He kicks a last chunk of rotten wood down, onto the frenzy of crocodiles.
    “I dare anyone, or anything, to try to climb up now.” He passes the ax back