Page 31 of Of Poison & Pumpkins (Of Witches & Men #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Elias

S he chose me. Rynn stayed with me through hell. For days, almost a week, I’d been sick with Covid, barely able to move, feverish with body aches, exhausted and even hallucinated a few times.

Tonight, I finally feel like myself again, and as glad as that makes me, a ticking clock counts down the time in the back of my mind.

It seems impossible to focus on fixing the curse on time when all I want is to broadcast my feelings for this beautiful woman.

She’s my savior, and she also collected the berries we need during my delirium.

After bathing in a nearby lake for the first time in days, I run a hand through my hair and then down my beard. “I don’t have a razor. How do you like the new look?”

She shrugs, but I can tell there’s a light in her eyes that had been missing when I was sick.

“Wow, you have such a way of complementing a guy,” I say with a laugh and wrap both arms around her waist.

“I simply don’t have a need,” Rynn says, rising on tiptoes to kiss my nose. “Because when you were delirious, I got to hear what you think about me. Apparently, I’m your luscious lady of lavender , who can do no wrong and has the body of a superstar, so I don’t think I need to fawn over you.”

I groan, leaning my forehead against hers. “Please don’t tell me anything else I said. I’d rather wipe it from both our memories.” She kisses my temple softly. “But thank you again, Rynnlee, for taking care of me. I hope you get awfully sick so I can take care of you, too.”

“Gee, that’s so sweet of you,” she remarks, mixing the ingredients for the antidote, now that it’s a starry night.

“When did you make all these?”

“Well, you’ve been asleep for about three thousand hours, so I had plenty of time to sit on a rock and knit extra spoons.” Rynn pours berries into a bowl that holds the carrot and seeds.

“And you happened to have yarn in this cozy rock valley?”

“It was at the bottom of my backpack. Will you help me recite the spell? Two Fuzers are stronger than one.”

I nod.

“Ready?”

“Can I touch you while we say it? That’ll for sure make the spell stronger.” I laugh. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’ve been a deprived man for days.”

“Of course you can touch me.”

I whip her a flashy grin until she points at the written spell and takes a deep breath. I guess we’re doing this.

“ Sana figo vicisi salvare maji ,” we read in unison, two Fuzers under the moonlight. “ Sana figo vicisi salvare maji. Sana figo vicisi salvare maji. ”

The ingredients form a purple goo, then meld into the shape of a little candy. It multiplies in an instant, until at least a hundred little violet gumdrop candies sit in the bowl as the final antidote. Hopefully it’ll work.

I stare at them. “Feels a bit sus to be passing out candy. You know how the saying goes?”

She shrugs. “I bet you can convince every Dazed to eat them. You could convince a polar bear to live in Egypt.”

Without wasting time, we hike down the trail back to Shannon’s factory. After repeatedly assuring her that we are indeed alive, a quick hug goodbye later, followed by promises to keep in touch, we’re ready to jump back into my car.

Shannon clears her throat. “I have a powerful spell to use this month. It’s the ability to transport to a different location with the snap of my finger.”

I grimace. “This doesn’t sound safe.”

“I’ve done it seven times. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, let’s do it. No time to waste,” Rynn urges.

Shannon holds out both hands as an offering. “Ready?”

“Now? Let’s talk about this. It sounds risky.” I lock eyes with Rynn.

“Do I have your permission to haunt you if we die?”

She laughs, a full-fledged cackle. “Of course, but I swear this won’t even hurt. You might taste a strong flavor. Prepare yourself; it could be a favorite taste or disgusting.”

“We’re ready,” Rynn says. “Do you count down or?—”

Shannon snatches our hands and the ground disappears from under me. Gravity ceases to exist. I’m nowhere and everywhere. There are flashes of light, but I can’t see Rynn. Was she left behind? My stomach flips and turns. There’s a loud whoosh sound resembling an airplane taking off.

Then honey drizzled apricot tickles my tongue until the flavor is so thick and overwhelming I may choke. It’s sweet, with a distinct tart taste, and I want to pucker my lips or swallow, but I can’t.

Suddenly, my feet slam onto a solid surface. Gravity has found me. Shannon had told us her intention was to drop us off at a low-risk spot like behind a dumpster or in an empty café restroom, but we’ve landed in the middle of the town square, next to the fountain.

“You okay?” I ask Rynnlee, still holding her hand, with Shannon nowhere in sight.

Her mouth is parted in an “oh” with wide eyes that match her shock as she stares behind me.

“Wh-what happened?” she asks, terror lining her question.

I turn around. Oakmar’s energy has been demolished.

The town’s heart and whimsical essence are gone, leaving only the skeletal remains of shops and roads.

Only a phantom land remains where the town once stood.

The cobblestone has cracked and caved in on itself into craters.

Corners of banks and gas stations curl in on themselves like paper in a fire.

Before our eyes, a stop sign is turning from solid to transparent and when Rynn reaches out, her hand goes straight through where the metal pole should be.

It’s like someone took an eraser to a chalkboard full of rainbow and smeared it into a streak of gray mess. Massive holes gape in the buildings as if their souls were ripped out. All people, Fuzers and Nergs alike have vanished. Wait, no, ahead someone stumbles around potholes.

“Hello?” I wave, but don’t approach, heeding my thundering heartbeat and sweaty palms.

He ignores us, wobbling next to the fire hydrant, and flounders past a cracked window in Pumpkins’ facade.

Not allowing Rynn out of my grip, I pull her into my shop, muscles tense and ready to fight.

The smell of rotting pumpkins infests the air.

Half the store is a corpse of what it once was.

All the orange has shifted to grays and blacks.

Static sounds spit from the speaker instead of the cheery, festive tunes we usually play.

The pumpkin balloons are deflated, marigolds, carnations, zinnias all sag, withered and dead and shelves lie like a carcass on the floor.

“Zanther!”

I rush to the back hallway, hopping over debris and smashed pumpkins. I send a prayer to whatever goddess that he’s safe. The break room is empty, a cave without a heart. A half-eaten burger sits on the table with flies buzzing around the plate.

“Zanther?! Kurt!” I burst towards the back exit to the alley.

Vacant. Desolate. Void. These are the only words I can think of when wandering the street, screaming Zanther’s name. Where is everyone?

Under the navy bruised sky, the shadows resemble monsters from my childhood nightmares, when I didn’t have Zee in my life yet.

When our parents married, I was twelve and Zanther was five, yet he always had a knack for protecting me.

When I encountered my first sticky popsicle massacre, Zanther was the one to calm me down and wipe my hands clean until I stopped hyperventilating.

When I didn’t get into Princeton on a rowing scholarship, Zanther threw me a ‘failure party,’ complete with a mug shot background for photo ops with my friends.

When my grandpa died, even though he had no blood relation to Zanther, my brother stood by me at the funeral and wake, never leaving my side.

He was ecstatic when I told him that Pumpkins was opening in his town and already planned a game night.

“Zanther!” I turn towards Palooza’s front entrance, out of breath.

Inside Rynn’s shop, dozens of people stand frozen, all facing the same way, like they’re at a performance.

An ominous, eerie concert from hell because not one sound slips through the cracked window.

I hear no chatter, popping of soda cans, or scuffling of boots.

Not to mention no one is moving. They all hold the same position like statues.

It's like the world is on pause and I’m the only living-breathing being. These people should all be at home, eating dinner. Not forming a zombie cult.

One step at a time, I creep forward, until the faces of those inside become clear.

First, I see multiple cops, all in uniform, but in a comatose state.

Kurt stands in a corner, glass-eyed and slack-jawed.

Which means the Dazed virus must’ve taken Zee too.

There’s no chance he’d be aware of his dad in this condition and not be knocking over walls to fix him.

Not one head turns in my direction to acknowledge my presence.

My skin tingles and the hair on my arms stands on end.

Nothing about this scene is natural. Every souvenir item, and every shelf, is muted gray or is vanishing from sight right in front of me.

No one else pays the phenomenon any mind.

Maybe I’m still sick in bed and this is another terrible hallucination.

I could believe that all these people became Dazed from contaminated water, but it doesn’t explain why they are congregating. Are they aware of anything happening in their surroundings? Did someone in leadership call this meeting?

“It’s pretty spine chilling, isn’t it?”

I spin, fist raised to throw a punch.

“Haha. Funny. Like my own son would ever hit me,” Noah says, face animated and lively. “Put those down.” He lowers my fists with one hand.

“What are you still doing here?”

“My fierce Brooke hasn’t finished her plan yet.”

I follow his gaze to the check-out register, where Brooke is climbing atop the counter. A necklace swings around her neck with a vial of bright purple liquid swirling like it’s alive. I need to find Rynn. Now.

I’m prepared to leave without exchanging another word with Noah, but he stops me with a firm grip on my shoulder.

“Where you going? The good part’s coming up, son.”

“I’m not your son. Where’s Kurt?”

“You mean that moron who sacrificed himself so his giant of an offspring boy wouldn’t get poisoned?” He points to Kurt, staring absentmindedly at Brooke like she’s the puppet master.

I scan the crowd, quick as darts. If Zanther is still safe, where is he?

“No, Kurt is a lame-ass-excuse of a father. I’m the one who gets the credit.

I’m the one who called your principal to get you into that advanced chemistry class to raise your GPA.

I’m the one who forged your recommendation letter to State.

So, your marketing degree is all thanks to me.

” Noah pats my back, a proud gesture I yearned for in my youth.

Not anymore.

I shake off his touch and force myself not to raise my voice. “Whatever the fuck you two are doing. Stop. Leave these people alone and get out of here.”

“No,” he says, grin widening.

“Why? What could you possibly want?”

“Revenge.” Noah’s look could challenge the Joker. “Her necklace holds the passion of these people. I helped her with the potions, but my girl is a genius. The next step is what I’ve been waiting for. I hope you’re not afraid of needles.”

His attention returns to the stage, where Brooke waves to Noah.

He blows a kiss, then closes his eyes and mumbles a spell under his breath.

My entire body tenses. What magic does he have this month?

Something large moves above. At first glance, I can’t see what it is, since so many heads block my view.

As I shift angles, the floating form of my brother appears, staring at the ceiling.

His eyes are wild yet in control, conscious of his situation.

“Zee!” I yell, and his eyes snatch to mine.

Aggressively, he struggles against the magic. It’s useless. I shove forward, pushing through the crowd as he’s positioned in front of Brooke.

“Zee! I’m coming!”

His mouth opens in a shout but no sound comes out, as if he’s suffocating on his own scream. My pulse races and adrenaline pumps through my body, surging me ahead.

Brooke dumps the purple liquid of her necklace vial into the syringe. Before I can reach the front, she raises the syringe above Zanther.

“No!” I holler, barging through. “Stop!”

She starts to lower the needle. But I’m faster. Its sharp bite pierces my forearm and sinks in deep. A dizzying sensation consumes me, making the room of gray spin.

“You look familiar,” Brooke says with a smirk. “Oh, wait! Are you my sister’s boy toy?! Well, shit, Noah will either love or hate me for this. Not that it matters. I’m done using him.”

I try to speak, to grab her, to warn Zanther to run, but I’m stuck.

Frozen. Whatever poison she infected me with is instantly working.

I can viscerally feel it swirl into my blood and move from my arm to my shoulder, expanding to every part of my body, lastly my brain.

Hot and thick and heavy like a weighted blanket meant only for suffocation.

“Eli!”

Zanther? I can barely keep my eyes open. He needs to run. Needs to find Rynn. Leave with Rynn. Keep my Sunflower safe.

“… safe …”

“Eli, don’t worry, I’ll fix you. I’ll get you safe.”

Darkness entombs me.

“You weren’t supposed to stab my son!”

“I didn’t mean to. He got in the way.”

“Well, I guess he’ll be good for one thing in his life.”

“Yeah, it’s better this way. Precious Rynnlee won’t have a choice but to listen if we use her guy.”

“We only need to capture your sister next. How do we find her?”

“Seriously? Does a witch have to do ALL the thinking? You have no faith in me. I already grabbed her off the street a few minutes ago. She’s locked in the back.”

She’s practicing witchcraft? No! I won’t let them hurt my Rynn. With every ounce of strength, I fight the powers caging me. Every muscle is so tight I’m about to snap. I strain and push against the mysterious force.

“It’s no use, buttercup. You’re my monster to control.” Brooke’s laugh sounds unstable, as if the unnatural magic she’s trying to practice has confused her. “Oh, this will be a fun sort of torture, don’t you think?”