The Masked Family

Chapter 8-1

Chapter 8Johnstown, Pennsylvania, 1977Two days before Grogan Salt framed Cary Beacon for a crime he didn't commit, Grogan made breakfast for the Nuclear Family.

"Thisismy w-w-way ofsaying th-th-thanks." Grogan carried the skillet around the kitchen table, raking scrambled eggs onto everyone's plates. "F-f-f-for lettingmestayhere."

Cary was the only one who had cereal. He was the only one who wasn't warming up to Grogan.

Or "Blacksheep," as Cary called him behind his back. Blacksheep, the evil arch enemy working to destroy the Nuclear Family from within.

"Sorryforwhippingthe f-f-finger atyou," Grogan had told the kids a week ago, the day after his arrival. "I-I-I've gotarudesenseof h-humor." And then he'd shaken the hand of each kid.

Except Cary, who'd walked away.

Can't fool me. The hand may be quicker than the eye, but not quicker than The Hurry.

Unfortunately, Cary's parents weren't exactly keeping up with him.

"This is wonderful, Grogan." Maxi-Mom Lydia beamed as she raised another forkful of scrambled eggs. "What a nice surprise."

"I could get used to this," said Father Law, in his secret identity as E.Q. Beacon. "If each kid takes a different day, we could have a cooked breakfast just about every day of the week."

All the Nuclear Family kids immediately looked in E.Q.'s direction. "Just kidding," he said, and they all laughed loudly.

All except Cary.

Father Law's a genius. Maxi-Mom has super woman's intuition. Why can't they see how bad Blacksheep really is?

"I'm g-g-glad youlikeit," said Grogan. His fang-like incisors jutted out of his big, proud grin. "Icanmakehomemade B-B-Belgianwafflestoo."

"Belgian waffles are my favorite!" Paisley tossed her head, which gave her black hair a shake. It was immaculate as always, glossy and bouncy and neatly brushed. "They're the best!

"Belgian waffles?" E.Q.'s eyes widened. "Mmm!"

"Now now, E.Q." Lydia patted E.Q.'s back. "Grogan's not here to be our personal cook."

"E.Q.?" Grogan tipped his head to one side as he stared at E.Q. "What's that stand for?"

"No one knows," said Baron.

"He won't tell anyone," said Paisley.

"But maybe I'll tell you, Grogan," said E.Q. "If you keep making me breakfast."

Cary looked around the table from one kid to the next, and all of them were laughing. He couldn't believe it.

He couldn't believe Father Law had just said he might tell Grogan what "E.Q." stood for, though he'd always refused to tell anyone else under any circumstances. Cary didn't even think E.Q. had told Lydia.

And now he might tell Grogan?

Cary had been carrying around a brick of pure anger in his stomach for the past week. Suddenly, the heavy brick became an even heavier cement block.

Just then, Celeste looked at him with a worried frown. It made him feel just a little better knowing that she, at least, wasn't so Grogan-blind she didn't notice something was bothering Cary.

Still, Cary would've felt even better if she were glaring at Grogan like he was, carrying a block of cement in her stomach right along with him.

Then, he wouldn't have to worry so much that she'd get hurt when Grogan carried out his evil plans.

Cary knew those plans were coming. He had found out in a way that left absolutely no room for doubt.

Grogan had told him.

* * * *

Yesterday afternoon, Grogan had cornered Cary in the basement. Cary had gone down there to look for a Nerf football, and no one else had been around.

"H-hey, asshole," Grogan had said. "No one'll b-believe you, asshole."

Cary had been scared, being cornered by someone almost twice his age, but he'd tried to act brave. "Believe me how?"

"That I t-toldyou I'll k-killyou, asshole." Grogan had sneered as he shoved Cary back against the basement wall. "I'll k-kill youunlessyou j-j-join me, asshole."

"Join you?" Cary had thought about making a run for it, but Grogan had grabbed his arm.

"You're m-my n-newslave, asshole." Grogan had shaken him hard by the arm. "Y-You're gonnahelpme m-make these idiots m-m-miserable, asshole."

"Never." With that, Cary had lashed out a foot, cracking Grogan in the shin. The second Grogan had let go of his arm, Cary had sprinted around him and raced upstairs out of reach. He had hollered down behind him: "The Nuclear Family takes care of its own!"

Grogan had hissed out his words between clenched teeth. "They'll allknowabout y-y-you w-when it's over, asshole. They'll knowitwas all y-your f-f-fault, asshole!"

Even as Cary had run away, he'd known his escape was only temporary. He'd known he wouldn't be able to outrun Grogan forever.

And he'd known that the danger ahead wouldn't be anything like playtime make-believe.