They reached into their pockets and pulled out their swimming nose guards. They donned their goggles and pulled out yellow rubber gloves. They were ready for the beasts.

“Boys, keep your weapons at the ready, your eyes ahead and stay close” Sam ordered.

Sam wielded his BB gun in front of him. Charlie, his rolling pin and Lenny, stuck to the back of Charlie, held his fly swatter.

They moved slowly while Sam waved the flashlight sweeping the width of the tunnel. At twenty feet when Sam stopped.

“Shhhhh. Listen.” Sam heard scurrying, then he felt it cross his foot. Followed by another. Rats, with bright red flashing eyes were looking up at him, their tails whipping against his ankle. He took a step back. He could feel Charlie’s breath on his neck. Sam raising the light ahead and coming at them was a moving wave of brown, speckled with red. Sam jumped back, crushing Charlie against the wall and screamed “Rats!!”. Lenny, who was cowering behind his two older brothers, tried to step back and tumbled falling to the ground screeching and swatting the air with his weapon.

Sam saw the red fly swatter in the air above the rushing wave of fur and shot off his gun, while Charlie reached under grabbing Lenny’s hand and pulling him up. They brushed him off and huddled together until the last of the rats had passed.

“You guys ok?” Sam asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Charlie answered, looking to Lenny’s face. Lenny look terrified and didn’t say a word.

“Lenny, its ok. We’ve passed our first challenge. I think you got some with your swatter. You are a brave explorer.” Sam said, patting Lenny on his shoulders. Lenny tried to smile. “Let’s get our treasure and get out of here, ok?”. Lenny nodded.

They forged ahead until the wall opened up. Sam put his finger to his lips and motioned to his brothers. He flashed light around the corner and saw a black mound on the ground. He whispered to his brothers “The bear!”

Sam, crouched and peering around the corner, kept the light low on the ground and saw a round object and what looked like a strap. He leaned in further and then he saw it. Just poking out from under the black mound was a hand. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The bear had eaten someone! He had left something behind. A treasure!

He whispered to Charlie to crouch down ahead of him. And told Lenny to stay on watch for the rats if they returned.

“See that round object? And the strap? I want you to reach and try to catch it. It must have belonged to the man.”

“What man?” asked Charlie, who was beginning to doubt the whole quest. “If it’s the bear” he hissed, “Shouldn’t we get out of here?”

“I’ll explain later. The bear is sleeping now. I’ll be above you watching him and if he moves, I’ll shoot him. The sooner we get it the sooner we get out, ok?”

Charlie lay down on the ground and reached as far as he dared with his arm, hoping the rolling pin would reach the strap. It did. Dragging it slowly Charlie could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

Sam, with the light poised on the object, and his gun pointed at the bear, held his breath. He could feel his sweat roll down his back.

As the strap was pulled, it slid out from under the hand. The bear moved and growled.

“Pull it Charlie, pull!!” Sam screamed as he shot at the bear. Charlie reached, grabbing the strap with his hands, got up and ran. Lenny, seeing Charlie head for the entrance, wasted no time in following. They could hear more growling and Sam shooting. “Go! Go! Go!” The bear had awoken!

The boys ran back to the ladder and climbed up, almost on top of each other. They slammed shut the sewer grate and took off home. They stopped at the back of their trailer, heaving and unable to speak. But their eyes spoke to each other. They saw the bear! It exists! And it didn’t eat them! They are alive! They took off their gloves and goggles, (the rolling pin and swatter left behind on their life saving dash), and tossed them under the trailer. Sam held up the strap. It was attached to a canteen. They screwed open the top and took a whiff. Booze. Sam was beaming.

“We got our treasure. The bear must’ve eaten the man who owned this canteen. Maybe he was also a great explorer. It’s our legacy now. Wait ‘til everyone hears about this!”

“Boys, lunch is ready!” Their mom called from inside. Sam hid the canteen under the trailer.

In the sewer, Jack a homeless man, wrapped in a dirty old velvety blanket sat up examining his body. Did someone just try to shoot me? He reached for his canteen but it wasn’t there. His head fell back and he let out a guttural groan.

“Hello.” he answered.

“Charles!” David Adams, president of FlyAway Books replied.

“David, what’s up?”

“It’s not something I can speak about on the phone. It’s… It’s…. well, can you come meet me for a coffee? I’m sorry to interfere in your writing time, I know how strict you are about that, but this really requires a face to face talk. It’s important” David stumbled over his words in quick succession. He was not his calm steady self.

“Ok. I can meet you at the Starbucks on Front Street. Would that be alright?”

“Yes, sure, that would be fine. When can you get there?” his voice was straining.

“Um…in an hour?”

“Great. Great Charles, thank you. I’ll see you there” and without a goodbye, David hung up.

His book sales were firm and steady. He was on schedule with writing this one, so, what could possibly be so important?

Charles arrived almost ten minutes late. The expressway seemed to have a never ending construction zone. He parked his Audi RS5 and rushed into the coffee shop, forgetting to lock it.

David was sitting in the back, away from the hustle and bustle at the counter. Charles raised a finger to indicate he’d be a minute, he felt he would need another coffee. David’s hair was out of place, worry etched on his face. His fingers tapped the side of his mug in a nervous flutter.

Sitting down, Charles said “So David. What’s going on? This is not like you.”

David’s suit looked crumpled, as though it was picked off the floor in a hurry. His shirt was off buttoned, leaving his collar around his neck askew. And he had no tie. For a man who was impeccably styled, he looked as though he had just come drunken from a bar fight.

“Charles. I’m sorry. I don’t have much time, but I have to give you some bad news.” David’s eyes kept shifting, scanning the room.

“Ok. I’m here. Let me have it”

“We are going to drop you. We won’t be publishing your latest and will no longer be republishing any of your past books. Your editor only knows you’ve been dropped and doesn’t know anything, so don’t bother asking her.” David took both hands and ran them through his slightly greasy hair. He was sweating. “I can’t explain. I’m sorry. We’ve had a good relationship. I’m sure you’re shocked.” David paused, looking into his mug.

“But, David. This is crazy! I mean out of the blue? I’ve always made money. Bookstores actually send in requests for a sign and greet with me even before my latest is published. This doesn’t make any sense. Can you at least tell me something?”

“No, I’m sorry. I won’t be giving you any recommendations either, to any other publisher. I have to do it. I really have to run. You were late.” David got up, his coffee mug still half full and rushed through a crowd of students at the counter. He took one last look over his shoulder, avoiding looking at Charles and was gone.

What the hell, Charles thought. This is insane. This was not the David he knew. He would never pass up a regular revenue stream that Charles’ books provided. His were constant bestsellers. People devoured his books and wrote in online forums how they couldn’t wait for the next. They enjoyed the ride, the shock, the gruesome details and the perplexing change from a good and normal person to an angry and disturbed monster. This did not make sense. Charles collected his thoughts and finished his coffee. He was going to have to do something.

As he got closer to his car, something didn’t look right. His Audi was a deep cherry red with black interior leather, but the inside didn’t look black anymore, it looked red. Maybe it was the light reflecting the paint off the windows? He opened his door realizing it wasn’t locked. The inside was covered in a red liquid. It dripped off the dash, the seats, the gear shift and the ceiling. Then he was hit with the smell, a metallic, acrid smell. Is this somebody’s idea of a prank? He reached with his index finger dipping it into the small pool that had formed on his front seat. He rubbed the substance against his thumb. It was gooey. It was sticky. It was a deep red. It was blood. Charles stepped back. Incredulously he stared at his interior, grasping the fact that someone had drenched it entirely in blood! What crazy sicko would do this?

His cell phone rang. The display said Gladys, his neighbour.

“Yes, Gladys, what’s up? I’m a little busy right now”

“You’re ok? I was worried. There’s a fire. I’m sorry, it’s your house. I can’t see too far, the police are keeping everyone back. There is a lot of black smoke.”

Charles hung up. A gate guarded the driveway to keep people a safe distance from the house. Fans sometimes would just show up. You just never knew these days. There were a lot of crazies out there.

He couldn’t sit in blood, so he ran into the street and hailed a cab. It was now rush hour and it took five cabs before one was available. This was not the time to have to fight traffic Charles thought.

Despite the driver’s best efforts, Charles arrived at his front gate, a torn down, run over, front gate, almost an hour later. He threw some bills at the driver and jumped out.

There were two police cars blocking his driveway, keeping the curious neighbours who were gathered in the street at bay. “Hey! Hey Officer! That’s my house! What happened?”

“You’re Charles Baker?” The officer asks.

“Yeah, I’m Charles, that’s my house…..” his voice trailed off as he looked down the lane to where his house used to be. He couldn’t see anything but smoke and a large mound.

“Well, you have one hell of a fire. Fire Chief says they had to keep back a few times because of small explosions. They couldn’t do much. Safety first you know.”

Charles just stared ahead in disbelief. Shock began to take over his body. His home…..his books! His notes, his files, his work! Of course he had back-ups. But they were all in the house. Oh my god, Charles whispered.

“Um…Mr. Baker? I have to ask you. Do you have a dog?”

Sparky! “Yes, yes a German shepherd. Do you have him? Where is he?”

“I… uh… I don’t know how to tell you, but he is dead”

“He died in the fire?”

“Um…no. Actually, we found him hanging from the oak tree in your backyard. Looks like someone cut him up too.” The officer stopped. Charles swayed like he was going to faint. “Maybe you should go sit down Mr. Baker. This must be quite a shock. Anyone you know who would want to do this to you. I’d say someone out there is pretty mad at you.”

Charles couldn’t answer. His head was spinning. Sparky, cut up? This can’t be real. He must be dreaming, having a nightmare.

He walked through the crowd and sat down on the curb. He held his head in his hands. What the hell is going on? Being cut by FlyAway Books, his exploding house, his bloody car, and now his dog.

“That’s a bad fire.” A man sat himself next to Charles. Charles looked up and saw the dried blood on his fingers. The man had black curly hair, was of Middle Eastern descent with piercing blue eyes. “Don’t recognize me, do you?”

Charles just stared.

“You ruined my life. I was a good man, a family man, a very smart man with a very bright and successful future in technology. My wife was beautiful and devoted. My sons…. My sons loved me, admired me, and wanted to be like me. You had to take all that away. Make me into a criminal.”

“What? What are you talking about? I don’t even know you!” Charles looked for the police officer.

“Ahmed Khan. Down Mulberry Lane?”

Charles jaw dropped. Down Mulberry Lane. It was his third novel. A Middle Eastern family moves into a waspy neighbourhood. Ahmed was an engineer. He tried hard to make friends. He would help them with their home tech problems for free. He showed he was being a good neighbour. After gaining everyone’s trust, he held the kids hostage at the school with outrageous demands, and then blew them all up, including himself.

“You’re dead….. Wait! Wait! You’re a character. I made you. This isn’t possible!”

“I heard it was quite the light show. There was no chance of saving anything, I made sure of that. With the multiple little bombs I set up, those firemen weren’t going to get too close. Not until it was all gone, burnt to the ground. Safety first you know.” The man grinned, his eyes focusing in like a laser at Charles.

“You take an honest hard working man and turn me into a monster! You make me a terrorist? My wife had to flee back to her parents who wouldn’t take her because of the shame. And my sons, my sons ended up on the streets of Egypt, begging with their mother, starving for food and cursing my name. YOU! Who do you think YOU are?”

Charles didn’t know what to say.

Ahmed got up. “This is what I owed you. Now you know how it feels to lose everything. I am not a monster. And I didn’t touch your dog. He was already dead. I would never touch an innocent animal.”

Charles rubbed his face. Ahmed walked away. Charles tried to follow him in the crowd, but he was gone. And the crowd, they had stopped, stopped moving and talking. They were frozen in time. Charles spun around, looking at everyone’s faces.

A blond woman in a floral pink dress walked towards him.

“I suppose you don’t remember me either?”

He looked at her closely. Blond hair, dainty features, porcelain skin like a china doll. He thought he would have remembered her. But he didn’t. She wasn’t one of his neighbours.

“Sherry White, the soccer mom? I was a wife to a hard working CEO, mother to a daughter who was a genius with the violin. A perfect life, until you made me into a secret prostitute and a murderer.”

“Seduction of the Daylight.” Charles whispered. “But you’re in jail. Wait a minute. You’re not real! This is not real!” He looked at the crowd, a sea of statues. Where was that cop?

“It was pretty easy getting Mr David Adams up to a hotel room, the octopus. He’s a dirty little bugger. You’d probably never guess it. After doing every despicable thing he wanted, I showed him I had it all recorded. YOU made me very good at what I do. Mr. Adams had until 6pm today to drop you, or the tape would go to TMZ and every network and newspaper. He burned all copies of your books left in stock and sent out the press release stating they were no longer affiliated with you for reasons they couldn’t disclose. The man is a respected family man you know. He couldn’t get dressed and out of there quick enough.” She smiled at the memory.

Sherry stood up. “One good turn deserves another, doesn’t it Charlie? Maybe you’ll stop making such good people into horrible creatures.” With a twirl of her dress, she was gone.

His mind spun with the plotlines to all his novels. So many murderers. Charles started to sweat. Were they going to come for him next? Was he living in his books now?

A young man tapped him on the shoulder. He was a well dressed stock broker type, with slicked back hair and Gucci sunglasses.

“Harry Snyder”

“A River of Blood Money”, stumbled Charles.

“I was your youngest killer. I was rising up on Wall Street, making a lot of money. My parents were one of the most respected couple in high society. I was going to have a good life, until you decided to make me into a psycho. YOU made me kill mercilessly; savaging young ladies who trusted me, slashing them open in my apartment, draining their bodies. There was so much blood….” Harry trailed off. He turned and grabbed Charles by the shoulders glaring at him, inches from his face.

“I wasn’t going to let you do it again. Not to an innocent little boy. He is only 12 for Christ’s sake!! What were you going to do to him? No! I could not allow it, was not going to happen. Charles.” He drew out the name with hiss. “Sparky was such a loyal companion. He was an innocent good old boy. So sad to have to open him up like that. He didn’t take long to drain. I had to have enough to spread all over your only other favourite possession, that ridiculous car.”

Charles felt like he was going to throw up.

“Innocence, Charles. Is there nothing sacred to you? Nothing? I think it’s time to consider a new profession, wouldn’t you agree? Remember we are all watching you.”

“You cannot take over people’s lives and make them into your demented slaves.”

Charles closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was alone, the street was empty, and the remains of his house were smouldering.