Page 180 of Sweet Nightmare

If what he means by fixing things is going back to the fucked-up way they were before, then they can stay broken. We sure as hell will.

“Who’s everyone? And where’s my—” Clementine’s voice breaks, but I know what she was about to ask.

And so, apparently, does Caspian. “Your mom’s totally okay. I swear,” he reassures Clementine. “She’d planned on coming, but some last-minute problems kept her and my dad back at the warehouse. But you’ll be seeing her soon enough. We just need to round everyone up and…”

This time it’s his voice that fades off.

“We’ve found as many as we can,” Clementine tells him, voice hoarse. “We’ve moved all the bodies we could into to the gym. Everyone else’s location is marked. Danson has the master list.”

She’s trembling now, and I know she’s thinking about Ember and all the others we couldn’t help.

“You need to put a couple of the teachers on finding the Jean-Jerks,” I tell him as I rub a soothing hand up and down Clementine’s back. “They’ve holed up somewhere, but a lot of the deaths are their fault.”

“A lot?” Caspian’s eyes widen. “How many deaths were there? And what did they do?”

I don’t even know what the fuck to say to that, so I just shake my head. I know I’ll have to talk about it eventually, but not yet. Not when I can still see that fucking monster with Ember in its teeth.

Clementine shifts like she’s about to try to answer the unanswerable, but before she can, Henri’s voice travels across the air to where we’re standing.

“Oooh, breakfast!” I turn to see Henri and two other men—all in velvet smoking jackets and monogrammed slippers—shamble through the wall onto the beach. They’ve got bloody marys in one hand and old-fashioned paper fans in the other. “By any chance, did you bring any pain au chocolat, dear boy?” he asks Caspian. “I’m a bit peckish after all that oracle whist. Winning so many times builds up an appetite.”

The other men look deeply annoyed, and the one in the puke-green jacket snarls, “I’m beginning to regret searching for you so hard.”

“So hard? I feel like you took your time.” Henri sniffs.

“Oh really?” the one in piss yellow snaps. “Next time we’ll leave you in that rug. And make sure it finds a home with someone who has several incontinent dogs.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Henri says, looking very offended.

“Check your crystal ball,” Puke Green says. “That’ll tell you what we dare.”

Caspian’s eyes are huge as he looks back and forth between the three men. And I’ve got to say, if this is who the world is depending on, no wonder things are so totally fucked.

“What on earth is happening here?” Caspian demands, looking between us and them. “Who are you? How did you get here? And why would I bring you pain au anything?”

Henri looks offended at the questions, but before he can work up a retort, another portal opens just a few feet away. A puff of sparkly smoke explodes out of it seconds later, drenching Caspian with glitter.

Puke Green rears back in surprise. “What the hell is that?”

“Our biggest donor, of course,” Caspian huffs. “She insisted on touring the campus after the storm. I think she wants to assess the facilities and see how big her contribution needs to be.”

“Since when do we have donors?” Clementine asks, bewildered.

“How do you think we’ve been able to grow our beautiful menagerie so quickly?” Caspian asks. “Madame Z can’t wait to see it.”

Clementine glances at me out of the corner of her eye as if to say, “You want to break it to him or shall I?”

I nod at her to do the honors. But before she can break the news that the menagerie has menagered its last menager, an array of that fucking sparkly Z-shaped kibble we used to feed the monsters flies out of the portal.

“Come to Madame, my darlings!” says a low, rich voice. “Madame is so excited to see you!”

Out of nowhere, the three remaining Jean-Jerks come running down the beach and dive into the portal.

I’m not sure if she was trying to call them or some long lost dogs, but either way, I’m tempted to follow, if for no other reason than to kick their asses once and for all.

Only knowing the very special brand of hell they’re in for keeps me where I am. We’ll see what—if anything—is left when she’s done with them. “You mean all we had to do to find them was throw some kibble?” Clementine asks, bewildered.

“Were those the Jean-Jerks?” Simon asks as he and the rest of our friends come up behind us. “Should we go after them?”

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