This would go down as the worst summer in Kansas history. Worse than that one summer he had gotten tonsillitis and spent half of it stuck inside. Gordon, stared out the window, watching his father's car as it left to head back to Tracy Industries for another week of meetings and deadlines.
Next to him, Alan sniffled, clinging to the toy rocket he had received for his sixth birthday. "I miss mommy."
The lump in Gordon's throat threatened to strangle him. He finally swallowed, wiping the tears that had threatened to spill. "Come on, Squirt. Let's go play a game."
Normally, they would go outside to play. Their yard was fenced in, so there was no fear of the youngest Tracy wondering off, but a curfew had been set after the unexplained disappearance of several children and young teens in the town. They would have to settle on a video game. Thankfully, Alan's game collection expanded past the typical cartoon-based point and clicks that littered the web.
Virgil eventually joined them after finishing his piano lessons. He informed them that grandma was in the process of making dinner. They groaned in unison.
"Please tell me you still have your stash?" Alan perked up at Gordon's question, looking longingly at Virgil.
The eldest just frowned, shaking his head. "After the last meal, it got cleared out. I haven't been back to the store yet. Scott was supposed to take me, but he's been so caught up with football practice."
"Did you see what she was making?" There could still be hope.
The dark haired brother shivered, "Quiche..."
Gordon paled, his mind flashing back to the dry, dense egg concoction that contained bits and pieces of overcooked vegetable. "There has to be something here we can eat?"
Virgil thought for a moment and then frowned. "There's always the storm cellar?"
Alan shrieked and grabbed onto Gordon's arm. "Not down there! It's scary down in the dark!"
Normally, the blond would agree, but the cellar also had a stockpile of canned fruits and jerky that were meant for if a storm hit. It looked like tonight's storm involved eggs in a cardboard crust.
"I'll go grab something real quick." He gave his youngest brother a reassuring ruffle of his hair. "Virge, you keep Grandma distracted."
"You sure?" Virgil was looking out the window. "It's past curfew."
"I'm not leaving the yard." Gordon grabbed a bag to place the supplies in once he retrieved them. "In and out before Grandma suspects a thing. Or would you rather take your chances with the quiche?"
Both brothers shook their heads in unified agreement. Gordon gave a quick salute and opened the back door that would lead to the storm shelter.
The sky was still lit with the dull oranges of dusk, providing plenty of light to see the wooden doors that led to the underground bunker that had kept them safe through many tornado warnings. He readjusted the bag on his shoulder and bent down to twist the latch handle. He pulled open one side and let it fall to the ground. Staring inside, he knew there wouldn't be enough light to see what he needed. Both doors would have to be opened. He pulled the second door, carefully lowering it to hang open.
He turned back to the opening and froze. In the opening, a red balloon floated up freely, coming up level with his face. What the... He reached out to touch it and as his finger traced the smooth edge, it burst with a sharp pop that made him jump back.
"Oh man, I hope Grandma didn't hear that..." He was whispering to himself, trying to calm his nerves. For a beat, he didn't hear anything. Then there was a laugh; echo-y and distant.
Gordon turned his attention back to the dark abyss that held what he hoped would be tonight's dinner. He took the first step down, kicking at the balloon remnants as he went. Ten steps down and he hit the shelter's floor. The low-light that filtered in, illuminated the shelves on the other side.
Heart still racing, he quickly made his way over and started grabbing a few of the cans. They would find a can opener later. The upper shelves held the jerky, too high for him to reach. Satisfied with the cans, he stepped up onto the lower shelf, attempting to gain enough height to reach the dried meats. His fingers grazed the bag, tipping it towards himself. It fell to the ground before he could catch it.
A deep bang echoed off the walls as the bag hit the floor, too loud to be made by the food item. Gordon stood, eyes wide and searching the dark on the other side of the room. Another, softer bang as something moved.
His heart was hammering, hands shaking as he tried to move his feet. He'd forgotten all about the jerky he was stepping over.
Glowing gold orbs illuminated in the shadows of the far corner and Gordon was running. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't supposed to be there. He hit the steps as something crashed behind him, hissing with an unnatural, low growl. He dared to glance back as he took the next step up and choked on the scream that had bubbled up in his throat.
Shivering in its slime-covered scales, a lizard three times the size of a large croc twitched as it glared at the boy frozen on the steps. Gordon's mind was yelling that this couldn't be real, even as its forked tongue shot out and twisted around his leg. He screamed as loud as he could, kicking out as the creature began pulling him in, its claws digging into the cement floor.
"HELP ME!" Nails scratched at the wood, trying to find purchase even as the lizard pulled sharply, sending his chin hard into the next step down. And then the steps were gone, replaced by the cold concrete.
Gordon flipped, ready to kick out. The monster was on top of him, its gangly foot pressing down on his chest. Tears stung his eyes as his breathing began to catch with the weight. He looked up, past the beast that was going to kill him and saw the white face rimmed with red hair, a red nose in the center.
"GORDON COOPER TRACY!" The angered shout came from above and he turned to see his grandmother descending the stairs.
As she reached him, he turned, wide-eyed and breathless to see that the monster had disappeared. The markings on the floor remained.
Trembling hands clung to the woman as she lifted him up. Her tone quickly turned to concern as she took in his reaction.
"Gordon? Kiddo, what's wrong?" She bent down, pushing him slightly away from her, but still keeping contact.
His mouth didn't want to work as he looked around the room, trying to find the thing that had attacked him. The space was empty again, the jerky still lay where it had fallen.
Grandma tsked as she took his jaw in one hand, "Did you fall down the steps? That's a nasty scrape."
"Liz-Lizard-" Gordon finally got the word out, but it didn't seem to have the same effect on the elder woman as it had on him.
Her brow pinched, "A lizard? That's what has you so freaked out?"
He nodded, gesturing to the large claw marks in the floor. Her eyes followed his hand, but after a moment she shook her head.
"I don't see any lizard?" She looked to him questioningly.
He frowned. "It- It clawed up the f-floor! See?" He bent down, running his hands over the ragged grooves.
"Come on, Gordo." She took his forearm and lifted him up, pulling him towards the exit. "Let's get you cleaned up. Maybe then you can tell me why you scared me half to death over a harmless lizard."
Once above ground, she shut the doors and latch, turning back to her second youngest grandson. "From now on, the storm shelter is off limits." He didn't argue. "And you're grounded for a week."
Gordon's mouth dropped open. "Grounded? But Grandma, there was a lizard! And it was huge! It almost killed me!"
He could see she still didn't believe him as she issued the order to go inside and straight to his room. As he stepped through the back door, he found Virgil looking pale as he held a crying Alan. He must have been yelling pretty loud for them to hear him. A hand on his shoulder steered him into the kitchen, handed him a wet towel for his chin, and ushered him down the hall without another word.
Later that evening, a knocked drew his eyes to the door. It opened a beat later, revealing Virgil with a plate of food. It was a useless offering.. He couldn't eat it even if it wasn't Grandma's cooking.
"You okay?" He asked, setting it on the bed.
Gordon shook his head, tears beginning to brim the edges of amber eyes. Virgil hadn't anticipated this reaction, expecting his usually energetic brother to spring back to his usual, happy self.
"Want to talk about it?" He began softly, taking a seat next to his brother.
He sniffled. "It was real, I swear it was."
"What?"
"The lizard! I-it was so big, bigger than a horse, Virge!" The tears were streaming down his cheeks now. "It was trying to-" His voice caught in a croak of despair as he buried his face into his hands. His shoulders shook with the sobs.
The bed shifted as Virgil moved, putting an arm around his brother. "Gords, is okay. You're okay now.
The brothers sat on the bed, the older as support until the younger slowly drifted into a fitful sleep. Virgil stayed, sleeping next to Gordon; a protective presence after a nightmare.