(Narrated by Kevin Coffey)

Happy New Year everyone! Congrats on making it through the holidays. I hope everyone is in one piece!

The current chapter, Vampire Grove, was voted a favorite if not THE favorite chapter of my test readers that read this novel. Even if you’ve bailed or are waiting on the book to finish before completing, I encourage you to give this chapter a try (either by listening or reading) and let me know your thoughts as it seems to stand up very well as a one-off sub-adventure within the main story.

The beginning of the final act will follow this chapter. Enjoy!Kevin

Flying in the leafboat turned leafplane had been a blast.

Crashing? Not so much. The falling sensation of the torpedoing leaf vessel made Jimmy feel like his guts would come flying up out of his mouth.

The leafboat folded around them like a protective cocoon before gravity seized them. Jimmy concluded Burks must have figured out a way to make the leaf close.

They punched right through the canopy, breaking branches and tearing vines that slowed them, but not without inflicting numerous bumps and bruises.

They thudded into a (mostly) soft surface and pulled off multiple donuts before skidding to a stop. The leaf unfolded again like it was blooming. When Jimmy caught his breath, a field of hairy fungus the size of trees lay sprawled before them.

“Thanks, Burks,” Jimmy said, untangling himself from Lem. “Anybody hurt?”

“Just wounded spirits,” Francis said.

“Ugh,” Lem moaned.

“Good to go!” Charley said, helping Lem to her feet like she was about to throw sticks for him.

The leafboat said nothing.

“Burks?”

“So much for gratitude,” Lem spat on the ground.

“Burks, you in there?” Jimmy leaned down, now feeling a little silly talking to the jumbo leaf.

“Don’t tank anybody’s home,” Charley sniffed at the leaf.

In fact, like another illusion of Meird, the leaf shrank down to the size of a regular leaf again.

“Burks?” Jimmy asked again with the concern of a close friend.

No answer. Jimmy inspected the veins running across the back of the leaf. He traced his finger along their lines as if he might telepathically commune with his imaginary friend. With shaky hands, Jimmy scooped up the leaf and shoved it back in his pocket.

Their jungle surroundings on the canopy of the stump were as hot and steamy as a sauna, and Jimmy found himself surrounded by millions of fat, tropical-looking leaves beaded up with sweat of their own. And silence.

There was none of the usual jungle chatter of animals and insects, not in this place. Too quiet. It gave Jimmy the heebie-jeebies just like the Odd Woods had—maybe worse.

“Now where are we?” Lem said.

“Beats me,” Jimmy answered. “But we didn’t get Undine’s nose ring,” Jimmy muttered with disappointment. “Yet, I guess she got banished like the Guhgooner. My guess is we’re going to need to get it, but how?”

“The million-dollar question,” Lem sighed.

“Well, let’s locate Burks and—”

Something pawed at Jimmy’s leg, trying to get his attention. Francis rapidly blinked like something had spooked him.

“Uh, sir, I don’t want to make you lose sight of our goal,” Francis said, “But I think the trees are stalking us.”

A cluster of trees had moved inside of the jungle. In fact, it looked like the jungle had retreated to make way for the spooky things.

The trees surrounding them at a distance were sickly to behold; puny specimens with thin bare branches like skeletal, underfed arms—and they bore no kind of leaves or fruit.

The skinny barren branches were the worst, in Jimmy’s opinion. They were extra-pointy on the ends, like someone had intentionally sharpened them so that they resembled dangerous spear points or long fingernails like the Lurking.

The trees were a pale white, in fact, so pale Jimmy saw right through them! The shadows of the jungle on the outer perimeter of the stump flickered through their thin trunks. The colossal toadstools stood silhouetted in the backdrop like empty tables waiting for giants to sit down to eat.

“Definitely weird,” Jimmy said. “But trees live off water; maybe there’s a source nearby.”

“We need water,” Charley said, enthusiastically wagging his tail.

“No doubt,” Jimmy said. His throat was scratchy. They were overdue eating a real meal as well, but water was essential.

“And food,” Lem said, patting her groaning stomach. “Let’s hope there’s a buffet around the corner.”

They slowly moved toward the center of the top of the gigantic stump.

“Uh… Did anyone notice those trees here when we landed?” Jimmy pointed to a new clump of the ghoulish trees that unless his eyes were playing tricks on him were not only greater in number but closer to them now.

“Nice,” Lem said. “Now we’re probably going to have to hack our way out through some kind of instant growing forest.”

“I’d say a pack of hunters would be a more fitting description,” Francis piped in, and sat down, engrossed with the trees while his tail nervously twitched back and forth. “As a fellow hunter, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that they’re attempting to outflank us, drawing closer and closer to us, but only when our backs are turned.”

“And why would they do that?” Jimmy asked.

A cold, wet nose nudged his hand. “Maybe dat’s the answer,” Charley said.

Alone, in the cleared-out circular space inside the grove of suspicious trees, was a well.

“No way!” Jimmy said, licking his dry lips at the welcome sight. Lem nodded at him with craved eyes. They were beyond dehydrated and thirsty. “Come on!”

“Wait!” Francis pleaded with him, but Jimmy ignored his cat. There could be water, and that was the most important thing. Besides, they only had one direction and one narrow road to travel on, anyway.

They crunched their way over the chalky white ground surrounding the well and approached the simple round structure. It was composed of built-up, smoothed, and worn-out stone.

Jimmy stuck his head over the side, and his companions copied him.

“Can’t tell what’s down there,” he said. “Do you think there’s actual water at the bottom?”

“Perhaps, but my hackles are raised about this place—the offering is highly suspicious,” Francis declared. His tail thumped with nervous energy: back and forth, back and forth.

Lem shrugged. “One way to find out,” she said. She ripped a medal off of her letterman’s jacket. Jimmy was shocked. She liked to wear those medals around like a decorated general—especially at such a young age. Lem shrugged again. “This one’s only a bronze. I’ll replace it with a gold this year—if I make it back alive,” she said, flipping the medal down into the well.

After a short drop, there was a distinctive splash. They shared a smile of success and gave each other high-fives with hands and paws.

“So how do we get the water up to us?” Lem asked.

“And there’s the quandary,” Francis said.

The answer to her question turned out to be on the far side of the well, where a worn rope wrapped around a dusty, decaying crank of chiseled wood. Lem grabbed the crank until Jimmy stopped her and pointed to a sign.

Beside the crank, staked in the chalky earth, a cracked wooden sign with spidery writing warned: Beware!! Vampire Grove.

“Vampire Grove? What the heck does that mean?” Lem said with a hint of paranoia, checking behind her. But that didn’t stop her for long. “I don’t see any bats or pale faces around here, do you? I’m dying of thirst. We’re all thirsty; we need the water—end of story.”

Francis wasn’t so sure. “I can’t quite put my paw on it, but something about this place is dreadfully wrong. Most likely the trees.” The cat blinked. “Difficult to determine what they are, but certainly not friendly.”

Charley ran a quick perimeter check for them, sniffing the ground. The spirited canine returned with a shrug of his shoulders. “Nuttin’ bad yet.”

Jimmy nodded. “Stay sharp.”

Jimmy eyed the trees. They were now at their thickest around the perimeter of the well’s circular clearing, like an infestation of icicles.

“I agree with you about the trees, but we don’t have much of a choice, Fran,” Jimmy said. He cautiously placed his hands on the crank.

“If we do it together, it’ll be faster,” Lem said, ignoring the cat’s warning. She put her hands beside her brother’s on the crank.

“Right. Ready, on three. One, two, three!”

Brother and sister grunted in anticipation that the crank would prove too stubborn to turn. Instead, they found quite the opposite.

“It’s really loose!” Lem said, and Jimmy grinned, nodding. After several turns, Jimmy’s craving for the taste of water overtook his mouth as up came something, sloshing side to side and reflecting the light rising up the well attached to the end of the rope: a clean wooden bucket full of clear water!

“It’s water, all right! Almost there, keep going, Lem!” Jimmy paused to pull out his empty leather water pouch he had retrieved from the Guhgooner pile. “We’ll drink our fill and leave with a refreshed pouch, no problem.” What a break!

“Wait!” Charley grunted, tugging on something stuck halfway out of the ground. “I tank I pound sometang I like. Oh, yeah, one of my pavorites—Bone!”

The dog pulled out a long bone from the loose dirt and immediately dropped it, jerking back in shock. “It’s a person! I just broke every dog law,” he said in horror.

Jimmy inspected the chalky white ground at their feet that made up the so-called Vampire Grove. The object they thought to be jagged rocks poking out of the ground were bones, all of them!

All around them, in all sorts of conditions, were elbows, hands, feet, even the cracked forehead and empty eye sockets of a human skull!

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“This is a boneyard!” Jimmy wailed. “Quick, Lem. Turn the crank!”

“Hurry!” Charley urged them on.

“Master James, wait!” Francis dared to jump on the ledge of the well and scratched Jimmy’s arm with his extended claws. Red trails immediately bubbled up from the scratch marks, and his arm burned from the wound.

“Ow, Fran!”

“My apologies, but look!”

Jimmy snapped his head up. The sign was a warning. The clearing was no longer clear at all. The trees had closed in around them.

ALL around them.

Yet they remained eerily still. None of the pale branches moved an inch in the breeze.

Francis shuddered, “I suspect they are poised and waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Charley said.

Francis gulped, perhaps unwilling to answer.

“Did I make this nightmare up, too? Because this one isn’t familiar,” Jimmy muttered to himself.

Jimmy turned his attention back to the well and the desired water. The bucket was so close to the top, he could practically touch it!

“Lem, don’t move that crank one centimeter. I’m going to fill the pouch.”

Jimmy took the pouch and leaned over as far as possible, but the bucket remained just out of his reach. Not even when standing on his tiptoes.

“Switch with me,” Lem said, “I’ll reach it, short stuff.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. Even in dire circumstances, she couldn’t resist a dig at him. Jimmy stilled the crank in his hands while Lem rolled up her jacket sleeves and bent over the well. Strangely, the desired bucket was just out of Lem’s reach as well.

“Hey,” she said, “I’m way taller than you. What gives?” She indicated the crank with her eyes. “Turn it,” she said.

“No, Lem,” Jimmy said, pointing at the bones. “Like Fran said, it’s too suspect. Did you not see the bones littering the ground? How do you think they got there? Do you not notice the trees moving in closer the farther we bring up that bucket?”

“These are trees, not vampires. Besides, they aren’t close enough to get me.” She coughed. “And my throat is drying out if you can’t tell. We’ll die from dehydration sooner than later if we don’t drink something soon.”

“Don’t tank it’s a good idea, hon, water or no water. I agree with Frankie,” Charley said, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the pale plants.

Francis nervously patrolled the outer rim of the well. “The bucket is tantalizingly close,” he said, “but that’s what worries me. It doesn’t require a great brain to surmise it’s a trap. Right, Charles?”

“Right!”

“Turn it,” Lem said.

“You sure?” Jimmy hesitated.

“Just a smidge.” She indicated a small space between her thumb and index finger. “That’s all the length we need. We won’t be greedy, just little scoops off the top.”

Out of his mind with thirst, Jimmy turned the crank like Lem instructed, nudging it forward with the tiniest of turns.

Sharp probing branches were everywhere at once, like insect antennae. They targeted everyone in the group, particularly any areas of exposed flesh, like their faces, necks, hands, and wrists.

Several branches lined up around the bleeding wound on Jimmy’s hand Francis had opened. And especially his wounded heel from the Carousel. Fat, pulpy suckers exploded out of hidden grooves in their branches.

“They look like—”

“Leeches! They’re bloodsuckers!” Jimmy screamed, ducking under the crank while the branches just missed latching on to him. “Watch out, don’t let them stab you or latch on!”

“You think?” Lem mocked, dodging a flurry of hungry arms targeting her throat. Francis practically hung suspended inside the well, dancing away from the probing branches.

Charley barked like mad, going to the aide of Lem, who was by far drawing the most attention from the branches.

Lem was the most hot-blooded person in existence. She was a walking heater and literal mosquito feeding station. Whenever they hung out on a summer evening in the back yard or at a barbecue, she literally would be covered in welts by the end of the night.

Jimmy ducked again as another assaulting branch grazed over his head then stabbed the dirt beside him, impaling itself a good few inches into the ground.

Charley’s barks and lunging bites had no effect—he failed to back them off as more branches moved in for the kill.

“Master!” Francis yelled through a screen of white, groping, toothy fingers. “Let go of the crank!”

Jimmy did just that and fell smack on his butt.

The storm of parasitic branches whisked away.

But not before Lem screamed as one fleshy pale branch coiled around her extended arm and tore off the sleeve of her jacket!

The prize was taken back inside the grove and pounced on at once by the bloodthirsty mob of leech trees.

Jimmy jumped to his feet and rushed over to check on Lem, who was still in shock, rubbing her real flesh and blood bare arm, which had strange sucker marks on it, and luckily, with unbroken skin that was still attached to her body.

“I guess that’s your lucky jacket after all,” Jimmy said.

“Yeah,” Lem agreed, examining her pockmarked wrist. “What it is, is disgusting.”

Lacking anything of essence the parasitic trees could feast on, the torn piece of clothing was rudely rejected and flung back into the ring of death, where it fluttered to the ground in tatters.

“Hey, I lettered in three sports to earn that jacket!” Lem shouted to the greedy trees.

“Where’s Francis?” Jimmy said, unable to find the little guy anywhere in the near vicinity.

“Oh no.” Charley squinted, desperate to detect any further movement from the leech trees. “Did the sucking plants get him?” He gulped. “He’d be pretty easy to swallow, like a bite-sized biscuit.”

“Down heeeere!” a voice mewed from deep inside the well.

“Oh no,” Jimmy breathed. “He fell into the well!”

Jimmy scrambled to his feet and peered over the well with his sister. Charley jumped up on his hind legs and stuck his head over the ledge.

“Frankie, you in one piece down dare?” asked the dog.

“Yes,” the cat said, his high-pitched voice echoing back at them. “I take it they went away when you let go?” Let go, let go, go, his voice echoed.

Two small but piercing yellow eyes stared up at them, the only things visible.

“Yeah,” Jimmy said. “It worked.”

“Gross, is he in the bucket—in our water that we’re supposed to drink?” Lem said.

“Don’t worry your tangled head, my dear Ms. Reve, I’m on the bucket,” Francis shouted up. “Trust me, when it comes to the freshness of one’s food and water, I assure you no creature is more finicky than a cat. Don’t confuse me for a dirty bird.”

“Dirty Bird, dirty bird, dirty bird….”

“We’ll get you out, Fran. Hang on.”

“Of course. What else do I have to do? Do, do, do….”

“Da well made him say doo-doo,” Charley snickered.

“BUFFOON, buffoon, buffoon…”

Jimmy paced back and forth. The whiteout of glasslike trees patiently bid their time, and their lethal pulpy branches glistened, still out on full display and not bothering to hide now that their trick was revealed.

The weight of the leeches made the branches droop like infected willow trees; the parasites gently swayed to the rhythm of the wind as if the attack had never happened. Yeah right.

Jimmy stopped pacing and snapped his fingers. Got it. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, ready to grab the crank once more.

“What are you doing?” Lem asked, holding up her marked arm as evidence. “That doesn’t work so well, remember?”

“I’m… testing the water, well… so to speak. You have to trust me.”

Lem stared at Jimmy for a moment like she’d protest out of habit, but instead, nodded in agreement.

Without waiting for the inevitable argument, Jimmy wound the crank again, keeping a wary eye on the grove. Sure enough, the predatory trees slunk forward with every turn as if they were an optical illusion or propelled by ooze.

“They’re drawing closer again, aren’t they?” Francis’ nervous voice rang out from below inside the hollowed well.

Jimmy risked turning the crank just enough until the furthest branches and the tips of the trees’ grasping and sucking hooks were a man’s body’s length away.

Jimmy jammed up the crank by lifting a knee and leaned his full body weight into the iron handle now stabbing into his side. “Fran, just fill the pouch with as much as you can carry. Lem, help him—I got this.”

Francis carefully floated the pouch on the surface of the water, letting the liquid fill up inside. The cat quickly but mindfully cinched up the end, carrying it in his mouth, and with all of his claws out tacked on the rope, he ascended the short distance that eluded them before.

“Oh, thank God,” Lem said, plucking the pouch from Francis’ paw.

“And here I swore I’d never climb for my life again. Never say never,” the cat shrugged, catching his breath on the side of the well’s ledge.

“Just a little bit, for now, Lem,” Jimmy reminded his gulping sister (she always needed reminding not to gulp or consume whatever it may be that needed sharing, even in this dire situation).

Lem passed the pouch to Jimmy, who took a life-changing sip. “Oh man! Surprisingly cool and fresh.”

Jimmy poured the rest into Lem’s cupped hands that she let Charley lick out of while Francis rested on the ledge, intently watching.

“More?” the cat said in earnest and snatched the water pouch from a surprised Lem’s hands. “Why not cheat death a second time? Cheers!” And without hesitation, he shimmied back down the rope and filled up the pouch again.

And so, they repeated the exercise of drinking the nourishing water, taking turns at holding the crank while Francis remained the water bearer.

Charley waddled up to Francis after the last round. “Frankie, you should make sure… you know, make sure you drink some yourself,” he said with the hint of admiration in his eyes.

“Oh, I have been, Chuck, don’t you worry. I allow myself a wee nip each time I go down.”

Lem’s eyes grew huge. “What?” She spat on the ground. “You mean I’ve been drinking after a cat!”

“I assure you, we’re the cleanest of all creatures—quite finicky about what goes in. Plus, I ensured the water was unsullied and satisfactory to the pallet. It’s quite pure to the taste,” Francis insisted like they’re sampling vintage batches of the finest water. Francis refilled the pouch one more time, this one intended for the road, so he generously filled it to the top.

Jimmy feared the extra weight. The final trip might send his pet tumbling to the bottom of the well (if it had one), but the cat inched his way up the rope paw by paw until Lem relieved him of the cumbersome weight. (She also refused to drink anymore.)

Jimmy scooped up a tired but content and purring Francis and placed him in his hoodie’s hood again for a well-earned rest.

“Well done,” Jimmy said, eyeing the pathway they had come from that remained blocked by the evil vampire trees. “There’s obviously no going back that way. Or is there?”

He grabbed the crank again and twirled it counterclockwise. The trees retreated further and further with each crank until they were out of sight.

“Not bad, little brother,” Lem said, surveying the returning jungle canopy.

And for one brief moment, the unexpected miracle of finding water gave them a glimmer of energy and a break from all of the evil and chaos the dream world had thrown at them.

For a moment, they were not an unlikely group of tired and bickering summoned heroes charged with the impossible task of saving all dreamers; they were simply an ordinary family, enjoying a nice casual walk (albeit on the surface of a quite unique and possibly dead giant tree stump).

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