英语小说网

Margaret and Casey stood motionless, exchanging terrified glances.

What can we do? Margaret wondered silently, realizing that her entire body was trembling.

"That's not your father!" Dr. Brewer with the Dodgers cap cried again, moving into the room. "He's a copy. A plant copy. One of my experiments that went wrong. I locked him in the supply closet because he's dangerous."

"What have we done?" Margaret asked her brother in a low voice.

"Put down the axe. You're not fooling anyone," the other Dr. Brewer said.

"He has to be destroyed!" the axe-wielding Dr. Brewer shouted, staring at his look-alike across the room.

"I -- I don't know what to do," Casey managed to whisper.

Beside them, plants quivered and shook, sighing loudly. Tendrils slithered across the dirt. Leaves shimmered and whispered.

"Kids -- what have you done?" Mrs. Brewer cried, her hands pressed against her cheeks, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Staring wide-eyed from one man to the other, Casey seemed too frightened to reply.

"You're the copy!" the other Dr. Brewer accused, and raised the axe again.

And then… us!

"Thank goodness!" Dr. Brewer with the Dodgers cap exclaimed. "We've got to get him back in the closet. He's very dangerous." He stepped up to Margaret. "Give me the axe."

Margaret pulled back and swung the axe. "Stay back. Everyone, stay back."

What can I do?

Dad would never act like this, Margaret realized. Casey and I were idiots. We let him out of the closet. And now he's going to kill our real dad. And mom.

"Margaret -- wait!" her mother cried, still too frightened to move from the doorway.

Uttering a desperate cry of protest, Margaret leapt forward and grabbed the axe from the imposter's hands.

What can I do? she wondered, trying to think clearly even though her mind was whirring wildly out of control.

He gaped in surprise as she steadied her grip on the handle. It was heavier than she'd imagined. "Get back!" she screamed. "Get back -- now!"

"You have to be destroyed!" Dr. Brewer with no cap repeated, his eyes wild, his face scarlet, moving closer, the axe gleaming as if electrified under the white light.

The capless Dr. Brewer reached for the axe. "Give it back to me! You don't know what you're doing!" he pleaded, and made a wild grab for it.

Her eyes darting back and forth from one to the other, she saw that each of them had a bandage around his right hand. And it gave her an idea.

Which one is my real dad?

"Casey, there's a knife on the wall over there," she said, still holding the axe poised. "Get it for me -- fast!"

"Get back!" she repeated, desperately trying to decide what to do.

Does this mean that the Dad in the closet is my real dad?

"Princess -- don't do it," the capless Dr. Brewer said softly, staring into Margaret's eyes.

"I'm warning you," Dr. Brewer in the cap said. "He's dangerous. Listen to me, Margaret."

Margaret backed away and swung the axe again.

Margaret hesitated.

The other one never had.

He called me Princess, Margaret realized.

"Give me the axe," he insisted.

"Get back! Both of you -- stay back!" she warned.

Mrs. Brewer shrugged helplessly. "I -- I don't know."

Margaret turned to her mother. "What should I do?"

Which one? Which one? Which one?

"Margaret -- give me the axe." The one in the cap made a grab for it.

Casey obediently hurried to the wall. It took him a short while to find the knife among all the tools hanging there. He reached up on tiptoes to pull it down, then hurried back to Margaret with it.

Margaret lowered the axe and took the long-bladed knife from him.

"Margaret -- give me the axe," the man in the Dodgers cap insisted impatiently.

"Margaret, what are you doing?" the man from the supply closet asked, suddenly looking frightened.

"I -- I have an idea," Margaret said hesitantly.

She took a deep breath.

Then she stepped over to the man from the supply closet and pushed the knife blade into his arm.