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  Now Andre’s mood was easy to read. He was angry. “What am I doing? What do you think I’m doing? Why do you think everyone comes here? It’s where you hook up. Why else would I bring you here?”

  “I’m not in the mood for that,” Nora protested. “I didn’t come here to…” Nora was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. It glowed in her pocket. Andre ripped Nora’s dress as he pulled the cell phone out. The light from the phone now illuminated his face. He was scowling. His fury built as he looked down and saw the name of who was calling. Farrell.

  “Why is he calling you?” he yelled.

  “I told…I told you,” Nora stammered. “We’re working on a science project together.”

  “Oh, come on!” Andre exploded. “Science project? Believe me, Nora, no one’s interested in you for your mind. No one!” He hurled the phone across the room. “There’s only one thing you’re good for,” he said as he began pawing at Nora, reaching up the bottom of her dress with one hand as his other hand dug into her arm.

  “Stop it!” Nora protested, trying to fight back, trying to push Andre away. “You have to stop now. Leave me alone!” She was becoming dizzy as the projections of ghosts swirled around the room. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t escape.

  Then suddenly Andre stopped. His arms dropped to his side and he looked down at his chest. Nora followed his gaze where she saw something that looked like a white knife slicing through his body. The object split in two and each side grew and snaked up Andre’s neck, twisting around his head. Andre began to shake violently, his face frozen in fear, paralyzed, as the pulsating, translucent tentacles of the Cambian virus bore into him.

  Nora reached out to him but Andre suddenly fell to the ground as the lights in the room turned back on. Nora now saw an old woman standing behind Andre. She was connected to him by a bright tentacle. It was Mrs. O’Brien, Rom’s math teacher.

  “I’m so glad you got the tickets I sent,” she said, as the tentacle retracted back into her wrinkled old body. “I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight.”

  * * *

  Blocks away from the battle Nora was facing, Bobby was engaged in a battle of his own. He was a strong young man and quick for his size but now that adrenaline was pumping through his body and now that he had a new title of Alien Hunter, no fleeing extraterrestrial had a prayer of evading him.

  The green alien was running for his life, stumbling across lawns and driveways, weaving around children, the bag of candy flopping around his side and its contents spilling along the street as he made one last sprint to elude the rampaging Bobby Ramirez. But it was no use. Bobby tackled the hapless alien on the doorstep of a house and they both tumbled off the porch into a hedgerow.

  “Freaky alien!” Bobby growled as the alien struggled in vain beneath him. “Taking candy from innocent little Earth kids. You’ve messed with the wrong planet, scum!” Bobby punched the alien right between his two big oval eyes and literally knocked its head off! Both the alien and Bobby yelled out in shock when this happened and both watched as the head fell into the grass beside them.

  Both the alien and Bobby could look at the head because the alien wasn’t really an alien. It was a teenage boy. And the head wasn’t really a head. It was a rubber alien mask.

  “I’m sorry!” the teenager said, his voice filled with panic. “I’m so sorry! It was just a joke. Here! Take it! It’s yours!” He pushed the bag of candy towards Bobby and squirmed out from under his grip, scurrying away just as Izzy and the little boy caught up with them.

  “He wasn’t the alien, Sherlock,” Izzy told Bobby as she grabbed the bag of candy out of his hands and gave it to the boy. “Here you go, Oggy. Sorry about that.”

  The little boy lifted his skeleton mask to reveal a real green alien head beneath. He rolled his big oval alien eyes and shrugged. He pulled his mask back down and continued on his way, dragging his bag of candy behind him.

  “What?” Bobby asked as Izzy looked at him disapprovingly. “So he wasn’t an alien. He was still a thief.”

  Any lecture Izzy was planning to give Bobby was put on hold when her cell phone rang. She pulled it out and looked at the name on the screen. “It’s Rom…”

  * * *

  Nora knelt down next to Andre. He was laying face down on the floor, motionless, and Mrs. O’Brien was slowly walking towards them. The elderly teacher’s handbag was hung over her shoulder, as if the Cambian thought it was part of the old woman when it took over her body.

  “Stay away from him!” Nora warned as she leaned over Andre, trying to protect him.

  Mrs. O’Brien scoffed. “Stay away from him? I am him.”

  Andre began to stir and slowly turned over to face Nora. Her eyes widened in shock when she looked at him. She was no longer looking at her handsome young boyfriend, the most popular boy at Lexham Academy. She was looking at an old man. The Cambian had infected Andre, turning him into the same thing it currently was --- a withered, wrinkled senior citizen.

  Nora stepped away from Andre as he stood up, steadying himself, trying to get used to the achy movements of an old man. He seemed surprised at first at his frailty but dutifully took his place next to Mrs. O’Brien.

  “I’m a part of him now,” O’Brien said. “I guess you could say --- we’re dating.”

  “Are you going to do the same thing to me?” Nora asked, slowly backing away.

  “No,” O’Brien told her. “I’ve been sent here to get you. Get you and kill everyone else. I’m sort of a hit man and in this case, my hit is your entire planet.”

  Nora inched closer to the doorway leading to the hall. “Who sent you? Why do they want me?”

  “I just do my job. I don’t ask pesky questions.”

  The old lady reached out to grab Nora’s arm, but Nora’s judo skills reflexively kicked in. She dug her hands into Mrs. O’Brien’s arm and flipped the woman on to her back. The Cambian virus was probably rethinking its decision to infect the body of a feeble old woman as Nora ran from the room leaving O’Brien sprawled on the floor.

  “Don’t just stand there!” O’Brien chastised old Andre. “Go get her!”

  Andre sprung into action. Sprung very slowly. He was a senior citizen now and his days of racing down the basketball court in a fast break were forever behind him. His weak knees carried him towards the door at a glacial pace.

  “Faster!” the old lady demanded. The Cambian was desperate now. Its mission was in jeopardy. “Find her!”

  * * *

  Rom, his penguin backpack hanging off his shoulders, and Farrell ran down the Main Street of Cahuenga Village and met up with Izzy and Bobby. Rom was still wearing his costume and looked an unlikely candidate for an intergalactic battle, but they all were unlikely soldiers.

  “So, Mrs. O’Brien is an alien now,” Bobby said. “I always hated her. She gave me a ‘C’ in algebra.”

  Izzy got down to the more important issue. “If the Cambian makes everyone old there won’t be any more procreation. Everyone in the world will be too old to have babies. Life on this planet will end.”

  “We have to find Nora,” Farrell said urgently. He pulled his cell phone out. “I’ll try calling her again.”

  “We can do this without Nora, Farrell,” Izzy chided him.

  Farrell pushed a button on his cell phone and the name Nora came up on the phone’s screen. “If we find Nora we find the Cambian. It’s here for her.”

  They all hovered around Farrell and listened to the phone but there was no answer. Rom grabbed the cell phone from Farrell and began navigating across its screen at speeds so fast it would make texting teenagers look like they had fingers filled with led.

  “I hacked into the cellular service,” Rom said, still fiddling with the phone. “Nora, or at least Nora’s phone, is there…” He pointed to the end of the street where the haunted house stood ominously in all its cobwebbed glory.

  Farrell led the group as they ran to the house and up the porch steps, Rom tr
ailing behind the others. Sound effects of screaming voices and ghoulish laughter played out from the hidden speakers around the house and the crash of thunder and flashes of lightening greeted them from within.

  Rom slowly walked up the steps to join the others. He was playing with a yo-yo and was totally engrossed in its movements as he swung it out on its string and reeled it back in. The yo-yo had a light inside and it flashed as it turned round and round.

  “I don’t think this is the time to be playing, junior,” Bobby chastised Rom.

  “He’s not playing,” Izzy corrected Bobby. Then she wasn’t so sure. “You’re not playing, are you Rom?”

  Suddenly the yo-yo shot up into the air, pulling Rom’s arm up with it. It hovered above them all like a balloon on a string. The light on it began to change colors and the yo-yo began to beep slowly.

  “A ship is coming,” Rom said as he looked up at the yo-yo. “Someone’s called for a barge.”

  “Someone?” Farrell said. “How?”

  “This is an old point of entry,” Rom told them. “Every barge still has this location programmed into it. All you need to do is activate the emergency beacon and the next available barge comes to get you.”

  “The Cambian has our codes,” Izzy said.

  Bobby stepped in between the others. “I don’t get it. What barge? What’s happening?”

  “Let me put it in a way even you can understand,” Izzy said to Bobby. “Someone just hailed a taxi. To outer space.”

  “We’ve got to move,” Farrell said. He went to the front door and tried the large brass doorknob. It wouldn’t budge. “We have to find another way in. The Cambian’s planning its escape it’s taking Nora with it.”

  “Why?” Izzy asked.

  “I have no idea,” Farrell said. “But we have to stop it. Check all the windows and doors. Get in. Go!”

  Farrell jumped off the porch and ran around one side of the house as Izzy and Bobby headed around the other. They left Rom standing alone and clutching the straps to his backpack. After a moment of indecision, he followed the others.

  Using his elbow to break the glass, Farrell wasted no time in finding a way into the haunted house. He reached in through the broken pane and unlocked the window, pulling it open, and climbed in. He was fearless and ready for anything and desperate to find Nora.

  Izzy and Bobby made their way to the back of the house and the locked back door. Bobby pushed Izzy back protectively with his arm. “I’ve got this,” he said dramatically. “Stand back.”

  She was about to protest, but Izzy didn’t have a chance before Bobby made a run at the door, leaping into the air awkwardly, and hitting it with both feet. The door remained firmly closed and Bobby ended up on his butt on the ground. He jumped up, grimacing in pain, and dusted himself off, trying to summon what was left of his masculinity.

  Izzy then thrust her arm out and pushed Bobby back. “I got this,” she said emphatically. “Stand back!”

  She raised her leg up and side kicked the door with one strong whack of her boot. The lock broke and the door flung open. Izzy didn’t even wait to gloat. She instantly ran into the darkness. Bobby ran in after her but lost her just as quickly. They each turned in different directions and disappeared into a maze of hallways.

  Rom was last. He usually was. Being last meant you were the last one to face danger and maybe, just maybe, the one who came to the rescue. It wasn’t so much a lack of bravery as it was an abundance of caution. Looking up at a window on the side of the house, a window that was already raised, Rom wasn’t eager to climb in, but that wasn’t going to stop him from doing it. There were always things, every day, he didn’t want to do, but he did them anyway.

  Rom’s desire, however, didn’t match his height. He may well have been looking up at the summit of Mt. Everest. Rom stepped back a few feet and eyed the window. He then got a running start and hurtled up the side of the house where he grabbed onto the bottom of the windowsill and hung on for dear life. He dangled there and tried to hoist his body up. He was kicking and straining and making very little progress when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He looked down to see the hooded old man, the haunted house attendant, standing below him.

  “What are you doing, kid?” the old man asked sternly.

  “Um, I was doing…nothing.” Rom let go of the windowsill and fell all of about one foot back down to the ground. “I was…well…I jumped and then I…you know…”

  Rom continued to stammer as a blue light lit his face. He looked up to see tentacles filled with the light, the tentacles of the Cambian virus, begin to reach out towards him, reach out from the body of the old man. The man was fully infected by the virus. He was a carrier and he was about to attack Rom.

  “I think it’s time for you to grow up,” the old man said. “Or at least…to grow old.”

  An octopus like arm appeared from beneath the old man’s robe and pushed the fabric aside just enough to reveal the shirt below. He wore a white polo shirt embroidered with a name. Rom’s eyes grew wide.

  “Coach Gwynn?” he asked in disbelief.

  The Lexham Academy basketball coach was now in his golden years. He was an old man. His baggy eyes with dark circles beneath them turned into black saucers as he lunged towards Rom. Rom ducked beneath the tentacles, avoiding capture, and ran away from the haunted house and across the street towards a playground next to a small church. Coach Gwynn followed wearily behind him.

  * * *

  Andre stumbled down the dark hallway in the haunted house as mechanical arms, bloodied, holding knives, stabbing and grabbing, lashed out from mannequins along the walls. Old Andre reached out, trying to brush them out of his way, annoyed by their obstruction.

  “Nora…” he called out. “Nora where are you? I can’t see a God damn thing in here. Getting old sucks, Nora. I won’t lie to you. But there’s no escaping it. It’s coming for you. I’m coming for you.”

  Andre struggled with his failing eyes and his stiff back and all the new ailments of the old that suddenly plagued the once athletic and handsome young man. He ran his hands along the wall and over the mannequins. He ran his hands past rubber hands and plastic torsos and inched his way towards one warm body pressed in against the cold ones. Nora’s body.

  Nora held her breath. She didn’t move. She didn’t even blink as her eyes followed the path of Andre’s fingers as they inched across the wall. He was coming closer, his hands moving over the fake bodies and towards Nora. Some of the mannequins looked more realistic than others, but they all looked fuzzy in Andre’s aging vision.

  “I can feel what she feels,” Andre said. “I want what she wants. And she wants you.”

  Andre tripped over a protruding bloodstained boot of a demon mannequin and fell into the body next to Nora’s. She pushed back farther against the wall. Andre’s hand was lodged between Nora’s stomach and the rubbery stomach of the mannequin beside her. The mannequin had two heads. It confused Andre when he looked at it. He tried to focus his eyes, unsure if he was actually seeing two heads or if his failing vision was playing a trick on him. All the while Nora stood motionless inches away.

  Andre pushed back from the wall, frustrated with his failing body. He moved slowly down the hall, bumping into walls and squinting as he tried to navigate in the darkness. He stumbled into another one of the many rooms and out of sight. Nora was safe for the moment.

  She finally took a breath. She was relieved but still terrified. She was lost in a maze of horror in a house of haunts, both manufactured and real. Hiding, however, wasn’t going to get her out of it. She had to keep moving. She had to find a way out.

  * * *

  Bobby stepped cautiously up the staircase in the house. No matter how light-footed he tried to be, though, each stair he stepped on emitted an artificially loud creeaaak and threatened to expose his presence in the house. He finally reached the landing on the second level and leaned up against a wall with great relief. It would have been nice if he hadn’t lost Izzy
when they first entered in the house. This wasn’t a place you wanted to be caught alone even if you weren’t looking for a murderous evil alien virus from outer space.

  Bobby took a deep breath and moved on. He tried several doors, but they were all locked, forcing him to move in one direction towards one room. It was a small bathroom and it was cramped and windowless. It was lit by a single, old-fashioned clear light bulb hanging from the end of a wire. It swung back and forth near the ceiling, casting moving shadows across the filthy, rust-stained sink and the white, bloodstained shower curtain that hung around an ancient claw-foot tub.

  There was a door on the other side of the bathroom and Bobby had no choice but to venture in to get to it. He stepped carefully over the threshold looking back as he went. The swinging light bulb was disorienting and Bobby ran his hand along the tiled wall to steady himself.

  The bathroom wasn’t just a bathroom. Bobby knew that. Everything in the house was meant to shock or scare and he was on alert for whatever that may be. So Bobby barely flinched when a bloody arm suddenly popped out from behind the shower curtain, a knife in its rubber hand. It sliced into the air in front of Bobby as a recording of cackling laughter played out.

  “Are you kidding me?” Bobby said to himself. “Give me a break.” He pushed the mechanical arm out of the way and was headed towards the door when the shower curtain was suddenly pulled over his head. Bobby clawed at it, but it tightened around him, blocking his mouth, smothering him.

  Standing in the bathtub, wrapping the curtain ever more tightly around Bobby’s head, was old Andre. He used all his strength to hold Bobby’s arms down, giving Bobby little chance to pull the shower curtain away.

  Bobby struggled to breathe and kicked at Andre, fighting for air and for his life, but he was quickly losing the battle. Soon he began wheezing as the air in his lungs ran out. It was a desperate sound, a deathly sound, a last gasp of life. His legs stopped kicking and Bobby’s body slumped and limply slipped down the edge of the tub.