by Jerry Hart
Alyssa was suddenly brought back to the present by something rubbing against her legs. It was a little gray-and-white tabby cat.
“That’s Toby,” said David. “I just got him.”
Alyssa picked Toby up and set him down on her lap. “He’s so cute. I love animals.”
“I know,” David said quickly. “I didn’t forget.” He smiled.
Alyssa smiled back. David was the one friend she could never abandon. He’d been surprisingly supportive of her decisions, unlike the others who questioned her at every turn. The friends Alyssa had always thought would be there for her no matter what were the first to disappear.
Suddenly Alyssa’s smile faded. David’s support seemed to be dwindling. Hadn’t he just tried to persuade her to quit?
“David, you don’t understand what we’re doing. I can’t walk away from it,” she said, looking down at Toby. “I won’t. I feel like I actually have a purpose in life now. I don’t want to lose that.”
He nodded, appearing to understand. Alyssa hoped he did. If there was anyone who could, it was him.
“How’s the homeless shelter coming?” he finally asked after a long silence.
“It’s coming along great. It should be ready to open soon.” She had told him about the shelter nearly a year ago. She’d been so excited about it she couldn’t keep it in.
* * *
David knew he’d upset her, and he hated himself for it. But he wanted everything to go back to the way it used to be, the two of them hanging out all the time. And then, inspiration struck.
“Unicorn,” he suddenly said.
For a second, Alyssa just stared at him, uncomprehending. Then a smile formed, getting bigger by the second. And then she laughed so hard it looked like she would die from it.
“I still can’t believe you signed that petition,” she said, wiping away tears.
“I thought she said unicorn, damn it.” He laughed as well.
One time, while dining with Alyssa and some friends, David had been confronted by a woman with a clipboard at the entrance of the restaurant. She had been trying to abolish the sale of alcohol in the area, and when she’d mentioned unicards, David had thought she said unicorns and, puzzled by this, signed the petition without further thought.
“What do you have against unicorns?” Alyssa asked, laughing more.
“Nothing, but I like to please people,” he said, wiping away his own tears. “She had a clipboard and a pen; I was doomed from the start.”
The two of them laughed hard for at least five minutes, then settled down, and at that moment, David knew he was in love with Alyssa Turner. He really wanted things to go back to the way they used to be, before Owen and Chris.
“If you’ll excuse me a moment,” David said as he stood up, “I have to go to the little boys’ room.”
* * *
Les saw this as the perfect opportunity. He jumped in front of David and pulled him to the side, before Michael could see them.
“What the hell are you doing?” David asked.
“Look, man, there’s something I have to tell you,” Les said nervously.
“Who invited you, because I know I sure as hell didn’t?”
“Listen, it’s about that Michael guy you met at the arcade last night—”
David pried himself from Les’s grip. “Dude, you better be gone by the time I’m done taking a leak.”
And before Les could say another word, David was in the bathroom.
* * *
Daniel was on his fifth beer. The room was spinning but he didn’t care. He felt great. And he really liked his new friend, Michael, who claimed to be on his ninth beer, but seemed completely sober.
“You are a freak of nature,” Daniel joked.
Michael tipped his beer to Daniel and laughed. Daniel couldn’t help but notice Michael constantly scanning the living room as if he were looking for someone.
* * *
David opened the bathroom door and peered out. Les Huntington was gone. But now someone else was walking up to him. It was Curtis Merriman, and he looked worried.
“Have you seen Marco?” he asked David.
“No. Why?”
“I haven’t heard from him at all since last night at the arcade. Remember? He was talking to that redhead. Do you think Marco got his butt kicked or something?”
David stood there for a moment. Hadn’t Les just mentioned something about Michael and the arcade? The last time David saw Marco, he had been having a heated discussion with the weird redhead.
Did Michael do something to Marco? It was almost unthinkable, considering how tough Marco was. But no one had seen him since that night. What could that mean?
CHAPTER 12
Chris stared at the dogfish as it swam in its tank. He massaged his temples lightly; a headache was forming. He had taken a few aspirin, but so far they proved ineffective.
Owen was poring over some dream books in the living room, but Chris was taking no notice. He couldn’t stop staring at the hideous—yet oddly cute—creature swimming around in front of him. Was there a nest of these things, and if so, should he go after it and destroy it?
His head started to throb again. All thought was suddenly pushed out of his mind and he couldn’t concentrate. The pain was growing in intensity and everything became nonexistent to him. He moaned.
After a minute, the pain subsided. When Chris was able to focus again, he saw Owen standing on the other side of the tank, apparently talking to him.
“What?” Chris asked.
“I asked if you were okay.”
“No. My head is killing me. I think it might be from the bite.”
“Does Bentley fascinate you?”
“Who’s Bentley?” Chris asked, rubbing his temples.
“The fish. That’s what I named him.”
“Cute,” Chris said sarcastically. “You do know you shouldn’t name him; you’ll just wind up getting attached.”
“Too late; I’ve grown a soft spot for the ugly monster.”
Chris smiled and rubbed his head again. The headache was getting worse. He cast a sideways glance toward Owen.
* * *
A moment later, Owen propped Chris’s feet on to a big fluffy pillow, as Chris got comfortable on the couch. Owen suppressed a laugh and handed him a book, the one about the young wizard. Chris had a confused look on his face.
“What are you doing?” he asked Owen.
“Making you comfortable for your transformation into a hell-beast. You want anything? Pickles with peanut butter? Anything?”
“I’ll save that for when I’m pregnant,” Chris said as he opened the book and started reading. “Seriously, what is this?”
“This is me humoring you. Nothing is going to come of that bite you got from Eric. You’re worrying over nothing. He’s not a vampire!”
“This isn’t ‘humoring’; this is you being an ass. I seriously think something bad is going to happen to me and…” He paused as he thought of Stephanie.
“You two are fine,” Owen said, as if he’d read Chris’s mind. “Maybe Eric and those other guys are the only ones of their kind: freaks of nature, like Bentley. If it were contagious, don’t you think we’d be waist-deep in monsters like them?”
“Maybe, but I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions until we find Eric.”
“Are you talking about capturing him alive?”
“I don’t know,” said Chris. His head was starting to get worse. “I think it’s worth considering, so we can question him.”
Owen didn’t respond, but he looked a little grumpy.
“You don’t agree?” Chris asked.
“It just seems better to kill him and get it over with. Like I said, I don’t think he’s a vampire and, besides, every time they try to capture the monster in the movies, it always winds up escaping and killing everybody.”
“This isn’t a movie,” Chris snapped.
“I know; it would be a very boring movie. Our lives ar
en’t interesting enough.”
Chris laughed at that. It was true: They’d only killed five monsters since starting their monster-hunting venture, and all had been fairly easy to dispatch.
But those days were over. Now one of the monster hunters had been bitten by one of those very creatures; plus, there was a weird fish-monster added to the mix. Their lives were becoming more fascinating by the second.
“Do you really think capturing Eric is necessary?” Owen asked.
“I do. Maybe we can make an antidote out of his venom—if he has any venom, that is. Then we can kill him.”
“Something’s going to go wrong,” Owen protested. “It always does.”
“Just don’t let him get away next time.” The words were out of Chris’s mouth before he even realized it. He looked at Owen and could tell he was mad. “I’m sorry,” he added.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” said Owen. “I did let him get away. He almost bit me and I used my Rejecter on him. I should’ve just let him bite me; that way, you and I could be in the same boat and I could whine and moan, too.”
Chris didn’t say anything. Instead, he jumped up from the couch, grabbed his car keys and left. Owen didn’t go after him. He looked back at the tank, where Bentley was swimming in place, keeping an eye on Owen.
“Where did you come from?” he asked Bentley, pausing for an answer he knew he’d never get.
Owen paced the condo restlessly. He was jacked up and needed something to do. He thought of looking for Eric, but he didn’t have a clue where to begin, and he knew if he went after him alone, he would wind up killing the monster. Better to wait for the others.
What else was there to do, though?
Then the thought came to him. Owen grabbed a leash and collar from Daniel’s room (from Daniel’s pet-owning days) and scooped up the small aquarium holding Bentley the dogfish. He grabbed his keys before he left.
Minutes later, he walked along Trident River with Bentley on the leash. He left the fish tank in the car; he figured Bentley could survive outside the water for a certain period of time, seeing as how the creature had done it when it chased him and Chris through the woods earlier.
Owen’s hope was Bentley would lead him to a secret nest, if indeed one existed. After the dream he’d had during the softball game, there wasn’t much doubt in his mind the dogfish could be dangerous. Bentley himself was fairly tame, but if there were more dogfish out there, chances were they couldn’t be trusted to be the same.
Bentley hopped up and down, sometimes running too far ahead only to get yanked back by the leash. They had been walking up and down the river for thirty minutes. Bentley seemed to be enjoying the walk, not heading in any particular direction. A few times, the two of them even headed back the way they’d come.
Owen grew frustrated.
“Come on,” he said to Bentley. “Show me where your family lives so I can kill them.”
Bentley looked up at him now with his bulbous eyes, his fishy head tilted to the side.
“You don’t understand me, do you?” Owen asked.
Bentley continued to stare, then, finally went to the river’s edge and took a drink. Owen sighed in frustration and even contemplated going home. But then there was a hard tug on the leash. Bentley had broken free and was now riding the rough current. Owen ran alongside, trying to keep up; he couldn’t let Bentley get away.
Bentley was way ahead of Owen now, but Owen was keeping up. He’d always been incredibly fast, even when he was a kid. He used to race his friend Cullen all the time when they were young and always left him in the dust, even though Cullen was taller. Owen had only gotten faster since then. How else would he have caught up with Eric last night?
Bentley, however, wasn’t going with the flow anymore; he was going against it. Owen couldn’t believe his eyes. Bentley was actually swimming upriver, and at a surprisingly fast pace. Owen turned and headed in that direction. It wasn’t any easier keeping up, though.
Finally he saw Bentley climb out of the water and into the woods on the other side of the river. Owen was coming up on to Briar Jorsen Road, which passed over the river. He jumped up to the street, ignoring the honking cars, and jumped back down to the path. He stared at the woods in front of him, preparing himself. He tapped his jacket pocket, which appeared to hold a few small, clinking objects inside, and headed in.
* * *
Chris drove aimlessly through the city, not knowing where to go. He loved driving a stick shift; it made him feel cool. He didn’t like it when the weather was bad, though. Once, while showing off to Owen during a rainstorm, Chris had peeled out of a movie-theater parking lot and slid right into a ditch due to the slippery road. It only took a minute to back out of it, but it had still been embarrassing.
“Sorry for almost killing you,” Chris had said.
“That’s all right,” Owen replied.
“I was talking to the car.”
They had both laughed at that little moment. Owen still reminded him of it every now and then, much to Chris’s dislike.
He didn’t want to go back to headquarters and face Owen’s ridicule, and he sure didn’t want to go to David’s party. He liked David and all, but the party noise would surely make his still-throbbing headache worse. He wanted to be with Stephanie, but he didn’t know where she was. He didn’t think she’d want to return to her own house after what happened, but he decided to give it a shot.
* * *
It was apparent almost from the beginning that Owen was lost in these woods. Even with the flashlight he brought along, it was impossible to see much. Every now and then, he heard the sound of tiny feet scuttling around on leaves. He assumed it was Bentley, but wasn’t sure.
He just kept going, pushing branches out of the way to keep from getting his face scratched. He tripped on a rock occasionally, but he didn’t let it stop him.
Finally, after fifteen minutes, he heard rushing water, but it wasn’t as loud as the river. He assumed it was a stream. After a minute or two, he found out he was right. A stream lay before him. He looked up and down it. There were rocky surfaces all around, with a huge rock wall on the other side of the stream.
Owen headed upstream on a small path, not really sure where he was going. He knew there was an apartment complex nearby (he’d passed it while walking Bentley earlier) but he could not see it now. He continued following the path for a few minutes when he heard splashing. Then, he heard a low moan. It almost sounded like a whale, only not as large.
The path along the stream abruptly ended, causing Owen to step into the water to continue, but the moment he did, he slipped on the rocks underneath the surface. He fell with a loud splash.
He tried pushing himself back up, but the moss covering the rock floor was incredibly slippery. Finally he got his footing and continued carefully up the stream. He slipped a few more times, scratching the palm of his left hand a little. It started to bleed, but Owen didn’t pay much attention to it. He shined the flashlight up ahead to see if anything was there, but he saw nothing.
He continued for at least twenty minutes, slipping every now and then on the mossy rocks. It was becoming unbearable. His heart beat rapidly. He was regretting handling this alone but there really wasn’t anyone to help. Chris had stormed off and Daniel and Alyssa were at a party Owen had refused to attend himself.
Finally he found himself near a pond. The moaning was louder, and so was the splashing. He approached slowly, hiding behind a bush.
All he could see, though, was a boulder in the middle of the pond. It was poking out just slightly through the surface of the water, but it was what was swimming around the boulder that shocked Owen most: At least a dozen dogfish were in the water, swimming in circles. Owen was sure Bentley was among them, but he couldn’t tell; they all looked the same. Each had softball-sized eyes sticking out the sides of their heads, with black fur covering their reflective scaly bodies.
And then, suddenly, the boulder moved. Owen was sure of it. The moan
ing got even louder. It appeared to be coming from the boulder itself. Then it hit Owen like a punch to the face: The boulder wasn’t a boulder at all; it was another dogfish. It was the king of the dogfish.
“There you go,” said a young voice. Owen saw a boy appear at the edge of the pond. He had a clear plastic bag filled with large chunks of something and was feeding them to the dogfish. All but the king swam over to the young man. They were now making weird yelping sounds that reminded Owen of hungry dogs.
It was hard to tell from here what the boy was feeding the creatures, but they seemed to like it. Owen wondered if the boy fed them often; they seemed to have taken a liking to him.
Suddenly the bag was empty.
“Sorry, guys,” the boy said. “I’m all out.”
He held up the bag to emphasize the point. The tiny fish-creatures began making a new noise now, an unhappy wail. Now the big dogfish seemed to take interest in the young boy standing on the edge of the pond. It started wobbling toward him. The boy took a step back as the other dogfish jumped out of the pond and nipped at his legs.
“Guys, I already said I was sorry. I don’t have any more hot dogs.”
He sounded nervous. He was backing away from the pond when he tripped and fell on his back. The dogfish were on top of him in an instant. Owen started to take a step forward when the big dogfish gave a great roar from its bulbous body. The other creatures became even more aggressive.
Owen reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object. It was a Buster. He was about to activate it when the big dogfish turned toward him and moaned the loudest moan it could muster. All the other dogfish stopped attacking the boy and faced Owen. It was one of the creepiest things he had ever seen. The dogfish wadded in place as if waiting for further instructions from the big daddy.
The king gave a great croaky roar and the tiny dogfish suddenly began swimming toward Owen. He activated the bomb and was about to throw it toward the big dogfish when he slipped on the rock he was standing on. (This moss would be the death of him.) The Buster fell into the water somewhere, but Owen couldn’t see it. He started to run when he slipped again, the dogfish right on his tail.
