Evan hurried over to her and took the blue can from her hand. As he held it up to examine it, the lid popped off.
The green Monster Blood began bubbling over the top of the can.
“It’s growing fast!” Evan declared.
Andy stooped down and picked up the lid. She handed it to Evan. “Put it back on. Hurry.”
Evan tried pushing the lid back on. It kept slipping off.
“Hurry up,” Andy urged. “We’ve got to go.”
“The Monster Blood—it’s up over the top,” Evan cried.
“Shove it down,” Andy instructed.
Evan tried pushing the green gunk down into the can, pressing against it with the palm of his hand. Then he tried pushing it with three fingers.
He gasped as he felt the green goo tighten around his fingers and start to pull them down.
“It—it’s got me!” Evan stammered.
Andy’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?”
“It’s got my fingers!” Evan cried shrilly. “It won’t let go!”
As Andy hurried to help him, they both heard the front door slam.
“Someone’s home!” Evan whispered, tugging to pull his fingers free. “We’re caught!”
Andy froze in the center of the room, her eyes wide with horror.
Evan nearly dropped the can of Monster Blood. The sticky green substance tightened its grip on his fingers, making loud sucking sounds.
But Evan only cared about the sounds coming from downstairs.
“I’m home!” he heard Conan shout.
“We’re home, too!” It was a woman’s voice, probably Conan’s mother.
“They’re all home,” Evan whispered.
“We’re dead meat!” Andy murmured.
“I’m going upstairs,” Conan called to his parents.
Evan let out a terrified cry as he heard Conan’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. “Andy—wh-what do we do?” he stammered.
“The window!” she replied.
They both lunged toward the open window and peered out. A narrow concrete ledge stretched just beneath the window.
Without hesitating, Andy raised a leg over the windowsill and climbed out onto the ledge. “Evan—hurry!” she whispered, gesturing frantically.
Evan was still desperately trying to pull his fingers from the bubbling green goo. Andy reached in through the window and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Evan—!”
He heard Conan’s footsteps in the upstairs hall just outside the bedroom.
Using his free hand for support, Evan scrambled out the window and joined Andy on the narrow ledge.
“D-don’t look down,” Andy instructed in a trembling whisper.
Evan didn’t obey. He glanced down. The ground seemed very far below.
They each stood on a side of the window—Andy to the left, Evan the right. They pressed their bodies against the brick wall—and listened.
They heard Conan step into the room.
Did he notice that the light had been turned on?
No way to tell.
Loud rap music suddenly jarred the silence. Conan had turned on his boom box. He started chanting off-key along with the music.
Evan pressed as tightly against the side of the house as he could.
Go back downstairs, Conan, he pleaded silently. Please—go back downstairs!
