The Monster Catchers--A Bailey Buckleby Story

by George Brewington

  Bailey felt her long, smooth hair between his fingers.

  “I like that you don’t call me Monster Boy,” he said.

  “I like that you showed me Abigail and Henry.” After a long pause, she said, “It’s so dark down here.”

  “I know,” Bailey said. “Too dark.”

  For a while, they sat and said nothing. Bailey wondered if she had fallen asleep, but then she spoke up and startled him.

  “Do you remember Aaron Aackerman’s sixth-grade graduation party?”

  “Ugh. Yes.”

  “Do you remember playing Seven Minutes in Heaven in Aaron’s basement?”

  Bailey did remember, unfortunately. With no parents to interfere, the curious sixth graders of Whalefat Beach had decided to play a game that combined Spin the Bottle with Seven Minutes in Heaven. Ella Robertson didn’t even want to play, but peer pressure and threats of exile from the basement to the Aackerman living room to watch The Sound of Music with Mrs. Aackerman and Aaron’s five-year-old sister, Julie, drove Ella to the only alternative—to spin the bottle and sit in the dark in the basement closet with whomever the bottle chose.

  And it chose Bailey.

  The giggling sixth graders shut the closet door behind them, leaving the two alone with nothing but the darkness and the Aackermans’ vacuum cleaner.

  “I’m not kissing you,” Ella Robertson said firmly somewhere in the black.

  “No problem,” Bailey had said.

  “So stay on your side. Don’t even let your feet touch me.”

  “Understood.”

  “I don’t even like breathing the same air as you. I’ll get your cooties,” she hissed. “Everyone knows your family is cursed. My father says your father made a pact with the devil and that’s why your mother is dead.”

  Bailey had said nothing, and they’d sat in silence. Had Ella been a boy, Bailey would have punched into the darkness, hoping to hit his face. But Ella was a girl, so he had to sit there for six and a half minutes with the insult hovering between them unanswered, while children outside egged them on with “Oooooooh!”

  The memory made Bailey feel worse, but at least he hadn’t fallen asleep.

  “Well,” Savannah said, “when it was my turn, you had already run up the stairs to watch The Sound of Music, I guess, because you left without saying a word to anybody. I had to spin the bottle and sit in the closet with Billy Dolby, who smelled like Cheetos and asked me if I wore a bra.”

  Bailey started laughing at the thought of that. “Okay, I thought my turn was bad, but you win, Savannah. That’s a rough seven minutes.”

  “It was the longest, stupidest, cheesiest seven minutes of my life.” She laughed. “Especially because I wanted to sit in the closet with you.”

  Silence. Then Bailey felt Savannah taking his hands in hers and locking their fingers together. He could feel the calluses that she had earned from many hours of Foursquare and sword swinging. Holding her hands was so exciting, he thought he might faint. But really, he thought, I’m just dying from dehydration.

  And then, as if the muddy tunnel around them wasn’t dark enough, the world faded away to black and he was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  TRY OR DIE

  SAVANNAH’S FINGERS PULLED on Bailey’s hoodie string, choking him and bringing him back to reality.

  “I know how we can get out of here!” Savannah whispered suddenly, yanking the string free. “The ratatosker, of course! We can use this as a leash, and he can lead us back to your store.”

  Bailey considered her idea, floating in the dark. “I suppose we could tie it to his tusk. But it’s not very long and ratatoskers go whatever direction is the fastest route—even if it’s up or down a wall.”

  “We either try or die, Bailey boy.” And he knew she was right.

  Bailey held tight the ratatosker, whose little rat feet scrambled in the air like it had already been given a mission and was anxious to get going.

  “Let’s call him Snoopy,” Savannah said, carefully tying the string to Snoopy’s tusk with a double sailor knot.

  “Why Snoopy?” Bailey asked, his throat parched.

  “Because he’s going to be our beagle to find our way home. Also, I like Peanuts.”

  After checking the string to make sure it was tight enough, Bailey set Snoopy down on the mud floor of the tunnel and let him sniff the fragment of his father’s pizza-stained sweatshirt. Snoopy sniffed the cloth, then stood up on his hind legs to sniff the air, did an about-face, and led them back the way they had come.

  “Backward?” Savannah asked.

  “We have to trust him,” Bailey said, feeling like he might faint.

  Snoopy pulled hard against the string, so Bailey wrapped it once around his wrist. They walked in silence for a long time, turning when Snoopy wanted to turn. When the ratatosker jumped down, they jumped after him, but when Snoopy tried to scramble up the mud wall of the tunnel, they faced a problem.

  “How are we supposed to get up there?” Savannah asked. He bent down and she climbed onto his shoulders. “Yes! There is a tunnel going straight up here, but I don’t feel much to grab on to.”

  “Get down, Savannah. We can’t risk it. Even if we could climb up, we can’t see anything, and it would be too easy to reach out for nothing and fall to our death.”

  Bailey sat down while Snoopy jumped up and down like a bouncing ball, anxious to lead the way.

  “How can we get him to show us another route? There’s got to be another way out of here.”

  “We have to walk in another direction for a while and then eventually he will find another way to the store—like GPS when you go off course and it reroutes itself to your destination.”

  “Excellent. Let’s go.”

  Despite Snoopy’s protests, they walked determinedly up a slope for what seemed to be hours, turning whenever they ran into a wall. After they thought they had gone far enough, Bailey put down Snoopy, who immediately tried to pull them down another damp slope.

  “Can we sit here for a moment?” Bailey asked. He was dizzier than she was, and even though they were in complete darkness, he was seeing red and yellow spots.

  “Okay,” Savannah said. Bailey felt her body next to him, exuding warmth. She pulled a clump of mud from the wall and put it in her mouth.

  “What are you doing?”

  She spit it out. “Gross. I thought I might suck some water out of the mud. But that definitely doesn’t work.”

  “I would do anything for some goblin pool water now,” Bailey said. “We should have taken some.”

  “I know. I wish I had thought of that. I just wanted to get us out of there.”

  “You did get us out of there, Savannah. You’re amazing. You’re not scared of anything. I’m glad you’re here with me. Anyone else would have given up and we’d still be in cages. You’re made for monster hunting.”

  “Well, then, maybe you can hire me at Buckleby and Son’s. I need a part-time job. I hate babysitting because toddlers drool all over everything.”

  “You’re hired,” Bailey said, making an executive decision.

  “Thanks, boss,” she whispered.

  Bailey rested his head against the tunnel wall. Strangely, it seemed to be vibrating. “Do you feel that?” he said as softly as he could. He stood up, holding his breath so he could hear better. Snoopy bounced up and down and squeaked.

  “Hush, Snoopy, I’m trying to hear,” Savannah whispered, and Bailey picked up Snoopy with both hands and brought him close to his chest to keep him quiet, because now they both felt and heard something.

  Something rolling.

  It sounded like a tire rolling through mud that with each rotation made a slurp, slurp, slurp, and it was approaching quickly.

  “Oh no,” Bailey said when he realized what it was. “Run!”

  “Which way?”

  “Any way!”

  The rolling and slurping grew louder, and they immediately realized which way not to run. The sound was co
ming right toward them.

  “Bailey? What is it?”

  “I think it smells the ratatosker,” Bailey whispered. “Or us.”

  “What does?”

  The rumbling grew louder. It was approaching at terrific speed.

  “We can’t outrun it. Plaster yourself against the wall.”

  They both flattened themselves against the tunnel wall with their backs pressed into the mud. “Bailey,” she whispered in his ear. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  The thing slurped very close to them now.

  “Remember the hoop snakes I showed you in the shop?”

  “Yeah?”

  “The scientific name for them is Serpens interminus minisculus.”

  “Okay…”

  “Well, some hoop snakes aren’t so minisculus.”

  In fact, the hoop snake that rolled past them was Serpens interminus magnum. They felt its scales brush their noses as it rolled by, and soon it rolled to a muddy stop. Then nothing. Then the slurping turned and started coming back toward them again.

  “It won’t miss next time!” Bailey croaked, his throat dry from dehydration and fear. “Run!”

  They ran but felt it gaining on them as it rolled over and over, making the hideous slurp, slurp, slurp sound as it wheeled through the mud, coming closer and closer.

  Bailey decided it was pointless for them both to die. The snake might be satisfied eating just one of them, and he might as well fight before being digested. “Savannah, give me your sword. I’ll face it head-on.”

  He heard her slice it through the darkness.

  “We both will,” she whispered. Standing in front of Bailey, she took both hands and lifted the sword so that the giant hoop snake would wheel right on top of them and stab itself, hopefully in a vital organ. Bailey hated to kill anything, but he could see no other option if they were to survive.

  Snoopy struggled in his grip, trying to get out of his hands.

  “Get ready,” Savannah said as the rumbling, turning, wheeling beast was nearly upon them. All they could see were its eyes, like two pinpoints of yellow in the distant dark. Then the beast rolled again and its eyes were bigger and brighter, like headlights approaching. One more roll and they could see huge yellow eyes with red slits down the middles, the glow from them illuminating its entire head. They could see the details of it now, its great unhinged jaw holding its own tail firmly as the eyes focused on them, turning for one final roll.

  “This is it,” Savannah said, holding the blade tight and strong because they both knew they would only get one chance to drive it into the snake’s flesh.

  But Snoopy pulled hard against his string leash. He wanted to jump out of Bailey’s arms and go left. Bailey had just a second to make a decision, to stay put with the blade or to follow Snoopy. He pulled on Savannah as hard as he could and left their fates up to the little ratatosker.

  They fell down a slide of mud that grew wetter and wetter as they tumbled. Bailey felt his mouth filling with mud as the walls of the tunnel closed in on them. Behind them, they heard the snake slithering toward them as it unwound itself to travel by conventional serpentine means. Bailey looked back once. The yellow eyes with red slits had not lost their focus.

  They crawled on as the tunnel tightened around them. He thought at any moment they would hit a dead end of mud and then they would become the giant creature’s lunch. Bailey had fed so many live mice to the hoop snakes in their cage. Strange that his life would end like this—to feed a hoop snake one last time.

  Then his head bumped into wood.

  Savannah politely knocked.

  “There’s a door here. With a knob.”

  “Well, hurry up and open it!” Bailey yelled, because he understood now what adults meant when they said they were claustrophobic. He felt sick, squeezed into a hole with barely enough room to crawl. They could hear the snake writhing through the narrow tunnel toward them. It was so close, its glowing yellow eyes illuminated the door in the darkness.

  Savannah turned the knob and pulled the door open. A smaller tunnel loomed before them. She crawled into it and Bailey followed. He shut the door behind them and they heard the snake thump into it.

  “I hope this leads somewhere,” Bailey said, “because that snake won’t be stopped for long.”

  “There’s a rope here,” Savannah said excitedly, and she must have pulled it, because suddenly Bailey wasn’t thirsty anymore. Water engulfed them in the darkness.

  He couldn’t see or hear or breathe. He flailed his arms around, and Snoopy swam free. He tried to kick upward, but he couldn’t even be sure which way was up.

  Then something grabbed him and lifted him up toward the light.

  Light. He was so happy to see light again. Even if he was drowning, he was grateful—anything was better than dying in unknown darkness.

  They all broke the surface: Bailey, Savannah, Snoopy, and the minotaur maze-maker from the Mojave Desert—Nikos Tekton.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  GREED HAS DRIVEN THE DEMON TO MADNESS

  “ARE YOU KIDS still alive? Spit the water out, because we must start moving.”

  The minotaur dragged them to the edge of the water by their wet and muddy shirts like half-drowned cats. Bailey and Savannah sat up and spit out water, mud, and weeds.

  “I know you have undergone quite a harrowing experience, children, but time is of the essence.”

  Bailey felt his right hand being jerked away from him. Snoopy’s leash had tangled between his fingers, and the bedraggled ratatosker was determinedly pulling, trying to lead them out of the water.

  “I know where we are,” Bailey said as reality began to settle into place around him. “We’re at Mr. Hanson’s pond.”

  “Yes,” Nikos said. “This pond is one of the entrances to the goblin tunnels. This little girl led me to it.”

  Nikos pulled another ratatosker from the pocket of his work pants. Bailey recognized her as one of theirs, with white eyebrows, white whiskers, and exceptionally long tusks.

  “So you got into our store and stole her?”

  “Not at all,” Nikos said. “Your father gave her to me. Candycane refused to pay me, so your father and I came to a suitable arrangement—I agreed to help find you. I must admit, I prefer to take employment with your father than Candycane—he’s a far more honorable man.”

  While the female ratatosker sat perfectly still and content—her mission to find Bailey and Savannah complete—Snoopy pulled hard against the wet leash, still determined to reach Bailey’s father.

  “Hey, Snoopy, home is that way,” Bailey said, pointing in the opposite direction.

  “Yes,” Nikos said, returning the female ratatosker to one pants pocket and removing his Jeep keys from the other. “But your father isn’t at your store. He is rapidly approaching Whalefat Marina. We must catch up to him. Please, children, we must go. He’s not answering his phone, and I fear the worst. We must get to him before he tries something crazy.”

  Nikos helped Savannah up. Bailey saw John Hanson peeking from his living room window, very alarmed by what he was seeing. He was pale and quivering, and Bailey wondered why such a man would choose to live in a town like Whalefat Beach, known for monster troubles and worse—tourists.

  Bailey checked his phone, but the battery remained dead. “I’m not sure we should trust you. You could still be working for Mr. Boom. Just tell me why my father is on his way to the marina, and Savannah and I will make our own decisions.”

  Nikos dropped to one knee to look Bailey in the eye. His big bull mouth frowned with pity. “Your father thinks you’ve been captured by Axel Pazuzu. He’s agreed to give Axel the baby sea giant in exchange for you and Savannah. Your father loves you dearly. Please let me earn your trust, Bailey Buckleby. I know what the cynocephaly really intends to do, and it is frightening. Greed has driven the demon to madness. You defeated me honorably with courage and cleverness, and now I am proud to be in your family’s service. If you will trust me for just a
little while, I’ll explain in the Jeep.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  IN DANGER ONCE AGAIN

  SEVERAL DRIVERS in the opposite lane swerved their cars into the ditch when they saw a seven-foot-tall minotaur driving a Jeep down Highway 1 toward Whalefat Marina with the top down. The September sky had grown dark and gray, even during the daytime, and wind and rain seemed inevitable. Bailey looked up to see six black helicopters flying overhead toward the Farallon Islands, far to the west.

  Nikos, whose giant hands practically engulfed the steering wheel as he drove, kept looking from the road to the sky. “The wind demon is making his move. Those are military helicopters.”

  “Is that dog-head creating this storm?” Savannah asked, unable to resist playing with the two ratatoskers in the cage in the backseat.

  “Indirectly,” Nikos said. “He speaks the language of the sea giants and is quite adept at lying. He’s told the sea giants he is going to give them back their son, although he has no intention of doing so.” Nikos turned the Jeep radio to the news as they curved along the cliffs rising above the beaches.

  “Northern Californians are advised to evacuate their homes and drive inland. The expected earthquake and floods are predicted to be far worse than those that destroyed San Francisco seven years ago. The Coast Guard has issued a warning to all vessels to go ashore. Abandon your boats and drive inland. Repeat—all citizens are to drive inland immediately. Californian lives are in danger once again.”

  “The ancient sea giants are rising. They seek their lost son, and they won’t give up this time.”