by Greg Taylor
“Is that what your dad wants you to do?” Toby asked, surprised.
“The holy grail of his wish list for me.”
“Wow, my dad was thrilled I was just able to land a summer job.”
Annabel smiled. “That’s the way it should be, right? We’re only fourteen, after all.” As Annabel started to clean up the kitchen counter she looked over at Toby. “Know what I think might have started all this? Wanting to break out of the box and all that?” Toby shook his head. “Remember that extra-credit assignment we had near the end of the year in English class?”
Toby had to think a moment, then nodded. It was an assignment he had passed on, the regular assignments being more than enough to keep him busy.
“I decided to trace my family’s history for the assignment. I couldn’t believe what I discovered. It turns out I’m related, I’m pretty sure about this, things got a little murky around the seventeenth century, but I’m pretty sure that I’m related to a sixteenth-century samurai!”
“Get out,” Toby said, truly impressed with Annabel’s revelation.
“I’m totally serious.”
“Well, there you have it. No way would a samurai work at a business supply store.”
“Exactly!” Annabel said with a laugh. “Or hang out at a pool, either.”
“On the other hand, would he work at Killer Pizza?”
Annabel looked around the kitchen. It was a total mess after almost eight busy hours. She shrugged. “It’s a start.”
Toby and Annabel exchanged smiles, then fell silent as they got back to work, Annabel making quick progress in the messy kitchen, Toby putting together an order of Beasties, his final pizza assignment of the day.
Toby felt all warm inside as he worked, and it wasn’t just from the hot kitchen. He was thrilled that Annabel had felt comfortable enough with him to reveal this other “color” of hers, a more searching, less confident side that she had buried beneath her more cheerful, self-assured exterior. Getting to know Annabel was one of the really terrific things about Killer Pizza, as far as Toby was concerned. There were other things, to be sure.
Basically, Toby loved coming into work every day He hadn’t at first, during the first week when things had been so difficult. But then he and Annabel and Strobe—forget about Doug—had slowly settled in and figured out how to efficiently operate a busy pizza shop. In addition to the assignment of duties and the experience of just coming in and doing the job every day, the real breakthrough had been Strobe’s idea to start playing music.
They had all—except for Doug—contributed ideas to a CD that Strobe put together. Toby had been especially pleased with one of his selections, an infectious punk/pop version of the 1960s classic “Monster Mash” by an unknown band he had discovered on the Internet. That song had survived the final elimination process, during which at least a dozen songs were tossed. The final playlist was all over the place, musically—classic rock, hip-hop, folkie rock—but somehow it worked. It was like all three of their personalities were on that Killer Pizza sound track. When the music had started pulsing over the KP speakers, everything suddenly jelled. From then on, the three of them had been a tight, efficient working unit. It felt great being part of it, Toby thought happily as he put the finishing touches on his Beasties.
Just then the evening shift came into the shop. Steve was right behind them, and Strobe was right behind Steve with the skater boys’ orders.
“Where’s Doug?” Steve asked curtly when he came into the kitchen.
“He had to leave early,” Annabel said. “Something about a crisis at home.”
“Come to my office, please.”
The trio exchanged glances as Steve strode down the hallway and disappeared into his small, windowless office.
“Is it my imagination, or is he ticked off?” Toby asked.
“Maybe it was a mistake to let Doug leave,” Annabel said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Strobe said. “The genius doesn’t do anything, anyway. Let’s go see what Steve has to say.” Strobe walked down the hall toward Steve’s office as the next group of pizza chefs started to get busy in the kitchen. Toby and Annabel nodded their hellos, then followed Strobe.
Steve was behind his desk, looking through a thick sheaf of papers as they filed in.
“Is there something wrong, Steve?” Annabel asked nervously.
“I’ll let the owner of Killer Pizza decide that.” Steve placed his papers neatly on the desk in front of him. “He always visits his franchises a few weeks after opening. To check the books, see how things are progressing. See if any changes are needed.”
“I’d like to suggest a change,” Strobe said. “Doug. Get rid of the guy. He’s terrible.”
Toby winced at Strobe’s blunt assessment of their coworker. Steve leveled his gaze at Strobe. “I suggest you share your feelings about Doug with Mr. Major, Strobe. He’ll be here in a few minutes. He wants to talk to the three of you.” Steve got up from behind his desk. “Good luck.”
Annabel hit Strobe on the arm as soon as Steve had left the room. “What were you thinking?”
“I spoke the truth, didn’t I?”
“Sometimes it’s better to hold back on the truth, Strobe. If Doug is related to Steve, or maybe even to this Mr. Major, you might have just found yourself the exit door.”
“The owner of Killer Pizza isn’t gonna fire me. I’m head chef, after all.”
The door suddenly opened behind Toby, Annabel, and Strobe. The three did not look over their shoulders to greet the owner of Killer Pizza. They stared straight ahead at the wall behind the desk and waited for him to come around the desk and address them. What they saw gave them a bit of a shock.
Doug appeared before them, plopped down into Steve’s chair, and propped his feet on the desk. “Hey, gang. How’s it goin’?!”
6
Of course they thought it was a joke. Something cooked up between Steve and Doug. But why? Why pull such an elaborate stunt?
“I’d ask you to take a seat,” Doug said. “But as you can see, there are none. We’re on a bit of a shoestring budget here at Killer Pizza. I like to put my money where it’s best needed.”
Doug’s transformation was truly remarkable. Gone was the perpetual slouch in his posture. The furtive look in his eyes. And the Killer Pizza T-shirt. Doug now wore a natty, perfectly tailored business suit.
“An explanation is obviously in order. What the three of you didn’t realize is that these past few weeks have been a test. I like to observe my potential future employees up close and personal.”
“Hold on!” Strobe interrupted. “What are you talking about, test? What’s going on here? You expect us to believe you’re the owner of Killer Pizza?”
“You can believe what you want, Strobe, but the simple fact of the matter is … I am. Oh, and by the way? My real name is Harvey. Harvey P. Major. The third.” Harvey P. Major III leaped nimbly to his feet and walked toward the door. “If you’ll follow me, I’d like to show you something.”
The trio exchanged can-you-believe-this looks before following Harvey out of the room. He led them down the hallway to the storage room—the room that housed the jars of pizza sauce and cans of condiments and the refrigerators stocked with the cheeses and pepperoni and tomatoes and all of the other fresh toppings that were the “lifeblood” of Killer Pizza. When they were gathered in the middle of the room, Harvey closed the door and locked it. Toby and Annabel looked at each other uneasily. What was going on here?
Harvey smiled. “All of this?” he said, indicating the storage room with a sweep of his hand. “Is a front. A legitimate front, mind you. We make darn good, award-winning pizzas at Killer Pizza. I take this business very seriously. But it was created for one reason, and one reason only. To fund my humanitarian work.”
Harvey paused, allowing the trio time to ponder what kind of humanitarian work he was involved in.
“Which is?” Annabel asked.
“I eliminate monsters.”
I … eliminate … monsters.
Harvey turned and walked to a corner of the room. He took hold of the side of a shelf filled with Killer Pizza’s award-winning sauce with the special, secret ingredient and pulled it toward him. The shelf opened silently and easily, like a huge door! In the opening created by the pizza-shelf door was a spiral staircase that led downward to an out-of-sight basement.
“Come!” Harvey said cheerfully, then disappeared down the stairs.
The three instinctively hung back. They stood together in the middle of the room, staring at the hidden staircase, then Strobe finally said, “Well, I’m game,” and walked toward the opening.
“Strobe!” Annabel said. “Hold on a second. Let’s think about this. I mean … a hidden staircase? Our boss, who we didn’t know was our boss, reveals that his humanitarian work is killing monsters?”
“You’re not taking him seriously, are you? Obviously this is just some kind of joke.” Strobe resumed walking toward the opening in the corner of the storage room and headed down the stairs. Annabel and Toby gave each other a look, then fell in behind Strobe, with Toby bringing up the rear.
As he walked down the spiral staircase, Toby had a sudden panicked thought. What if the door behind him was thrown shut and locked? They’d be trapped in a basement room with their strange pizza boss!
Get a grip! Toby scolded himself. Like Strobe said, this is just some kind of bizarro joke.
Still, Toby felt goose bumps on his arms as he descended into the basement beneath the Killer Pizza shop. When he got to the bottom of the staircase he felt like turning around and heading right back up again. The whole downstairs scenario just felt so wrong.
The large basement room stretching out in front of Toby contained several spotless aluminum operating tables and scores of gleaming surgical utensils hanging from hooks on the walls. If that wasn’t weird enough, there was the smell to accent the odd basement furnishings. Formaldehyde? Is that what it was?
Strobe and Annabel stood in front of Toby. From the far end of the basement room, Harvey gave the trio a reassuring smile. “Don’t be alarmed. I’m not a miniature version of Hannibal Lecter. This is a forensics room. For conducting autopsies on deceased monsters.”
Annabel gave Strobe a slow, sideways glance. Strobe didn’t look quite as confident that an April Fool’s-type joke was being pulled on them.
“Your obvious uneasiness and disbelief is to be expected,” Harvey continued. “Allow me to prove to you that I’m not a total, raving loon.” Harvey turned to a high, narrow refrigerator located behind him and opened the door. The trio couldn’t believe what they saw hanging from a hook in the fridge.
It was a large, grotesque figure that looked like a cross between a human and an animal!
This time the creature was not backlit by a streetlamp or shrouded in darkness. The bright basement light revealed every chilling detail of the thing’s features.
A hairless, elongated head with a pronounced jaw. Eyes set in deep, dark sockets. Ears … well, the creature had no ears. Chest, abnormally large even for its six-foot-tall frame. Fingers and toes, long and muscular and accented by sharp talons. Finally, there was the distinctive-looking skin. Tough as leather, it was irregularly spotted light and dark, camouflage-like.
The thing looked horrific. And incredibly dangerous.
“I bagged this guy a few days ago,” Harvey revealed. “Come. It won’t bite. Not now, anyway. If you had met it when I did, that would have been a different story.”
The three teens didn’t move. Actually, they looked as though they couldn’t have moved even if they wanted to. They were too blown away by the sight in front of them.
“Very well,” Harvey said. “I’ll give you a briefing from here. In one form or another, monsters have been around for as long as we humans have. From the beginning, they’ve always done one of three things to us. Devoured us, sucked our blood, stolen our souls. Not necessarily in that order. The bottom line? They are not our friends. Take this creature, for example. His species has been around a very long time. Latin name, Guttata horridus horridus. Guttata, for short. The guttata are cousins, you might say, of the gargoyle. But unlike their more primitive gargoyle brethren, guttata have evolved into a very sophisticated species.”
Feeling as though he had been enveloped by some kind of strange, numbing cloud, Toby watched Strobe approach the creature. Annabel fell in behind Strobe. Toby didn’t want to be left behind, so he followed Annabel.
“Our friend here shares certain characteristics with the vampire and werewolf,” Harvey continued. “For example, if a human were to be bitten by a guttata, they would slowly transform into one of these creatures. Guttata have the ability to morph back and forth between human and guttata form. They prefer the human form. Which is how the guttata manage to walk among us. One could be your neighbor, for all you know.”
Toby stared at Harvey. Someone he knew could be a guttata? How far left of Main Street was that? Strobe reached out and touched the creature, then rubbed his thumb against his fingers, as though feeling some sort of residue from his contact with the beast. “Could be a fake,” he surmised.
“I assure you it’s not,” Harvey replied. “Listen, I know this is a bit much to lay on you all at once. Why don’t we go to my office? Have some refreshments.” Harvey indicated a door in the corner of the room. “I have photo albums. An introductory film on the monster universe. Various relics, mostly handed down from my father and grandfather, from their years of service protecting the unsuspecting public from the creatures of the night.”
Strobe suddenly snorted a laugh. It was all so absurd , after all. Annabel, however, looked quite serious when she asked, “Harvey, let’s say this thing is for real. Why are you showing us all this?”
“I’m sorry, Annabel. I thought it was obvious. I want you to work for me.”
“We are working for you,” Toby pointed out.
“Not making pizzas. I want you to consider becoming Killer Pizza MCOs.”
“Which would be?” Strobe asked.
“Monster Combat Officers.” With that, Harvey walked across the room and opened the door to his office. He stood to one side, waiting for the trio to join him.
7
A young female vampire, wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and plaid miniskirt, rushed at the video camera with fangs bared … .
A scraggly, gaunt werewolf—captured on old, grainy black-and-white film—leaped with incredible speed and power to the top of a garage in a dark back alley, glared at the camera, and disappeared into the darkness … .
A pack of ferocious guttata attacked a barricaded house, a half dozen of the creatures trying to get at the MCOs inside, who shouted commands and warnings to one another in a hard-to-place foreign language. Greek, maybe?
Those were just a few of the images on the film that Harvey showed Toby, Annabel, and Strobe in his office. There were quite a few others. An avalanche of images, revealing the strange and bizarre world of the creatures of the night, from the familiar (zombies, vampires, werewolves) to the not so (nagas and MAPs—mind—altering parasites—among others).
When the film ended, Harvey turned the office lights back on. Strobe, Toby, and Annabel blinked, their eyes adjusting to the bright light. It was as though they had just returned to daylight from a very weird, indoor amusement park—like ride. The kind with the fake creatures that jump out at you from the darkness. The kind that scares the crap out of you, when you’re younger.
But the creatures in Harvey’s film had obviously not been fake. Nothing phony or CGI-like about them, whatsoever.
Harvey took a seat behind his desk and studied the trio. “Convinced now that this is not some kind of elaborate joke?” When there was no response to his question: “I’ll take that as a yes. Which means I can proceed with my pitch. I hired the three of you t
o work at Killer Pizza because I sensed you each have something special to offer. Annabel, as I expected, you’re a quick study. You have the ability to take things in, process them, and move on. You’re extremely focused. It didn’t take long for you to establish yourself as the bedrock of this team. That’s because you have the posture of a true leader.”
Harvey shifted his gaze to Strobe. “Strobe, you’re a no-nonsense, hard worker. I like that. You’re the muscle of this group, you might say. But you definitely have a temper. And a problem with authority. You have to watch that. I’ll be keeping my eye on you if you decide to accept my offer here.”
After hearing Harvey’s assessment of his two coworkers, Toby was curious. What did he have to offer?
“Toby, you’re the perfect balance to these two. You’re low-key, you take orders well. A necessary quality in any officer. I don’t mean that as a slight. You do good work, you pay attention to the details. That’s important. Besides, I believe you have qualities you don’t even realize yet. You just need some seasoning. Pun intended.”
Harvey leaned back in his seat and looked at his three KP employees. “The point here is that I believed the three of you would make a good team. I’m rarely wrong about things like that, and I certainly wasn’t in this case. You solved problems, delegated chores, coalesced into a very effective unit. The bottom line? I believe you have what it takes to be MCOs. Of course, it’s not as easy as just saying sign me up. There is a rigorous training program, a written test, to get through before you can become a member of Killer Pizza’s elite force of monster hunters.”
Harvey pulled some files from a desk drawer. He handed a file to each of his employees. “Here is more information on the program. Also included is a contract. Go home. Read through it. Think it over. Do not discuss it with parents, siblings, or friends. We insist on complete secrecy here at KP. But by all means, take your time. This is one of the most important decisions you’ll make in your life. I don’t expect you to be hasty about it.”
