Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: The Varcolac's Diary

by D. C. McGannon

  Mrs. Nutterwicke, who was a shrewd woman, eyed them over her small glasses with blatant suspicion.

  “All right you two. Your sentences are up and you’re free to go.”

  Both of them stood and gathered their belongings to leave.

  “Thank you Mrs. Nutterwicke,” they said in chorus, scurrying out of the library. They waited to speak until they had passed the oak doors.

  Nash grabbed Charlie’s sleeve, pulling him to the wall.

  “Don’t ever follow me again,” said Nash. “I told you, I’m trouble.”

  Charlie’s ears felt hot. “I didn’t follow you. I was looking for a book on Hunter’s Key, by myself. But for the record, I don’t think you’re that bad, and two heads are better than one.”

  “Whatever. Just keep to yourself.”

  Nash let go of Charlie’s jacket and stormed off, leaving Charlie to glare at his back. After a few moments, Nash had rounded the corner.

  The scene in the library had told Charlie one thing, loud and clear: he was on the right track. Not only had Nash gone looking for answers, but the Vadiknov twins had beat them both to it. And if the Vadiknovs twins were onto Hunter’s Key, then something was definitely going on up in that mansion.

  Charlie was close to answers, then. But he needed help.

  He wondered briefly if this was what it felt like to be insane.

  Warning or no warning, Charlie jogged after Nash.

  The Chief of Assistants peered over the top of the school as he perched on its roof. He had searched it, his efforts fruitless. He watched the sun all but disappear in its early winter course. Winter. A season when his master was at his strongest.

  Something below, on the school steps, caught his attention. Trouble was brewing.

  The Chief of Assistants liked human troubles.

  “Nash, wait up!”

  Charlie burst out of the school’s front door, too much in a hurry to see the thick figures waiting on the steps. Donnie Wickles and a few of his lackeys stood off with Nash. When Charlie appeared, chasing after Nash, the bully stopped with interest.

  “Look at this, it’s a loner gathering! What’s up, backpackin’ recluse?” he called to Charlie.

  “Back off!” Nash warned as he tried to get past. “Remember what happened last time my fist met your face.”

  In fact, Donnie’s left cheek did have a nasty shiner appearing. He flinched back some as Nash raised a heavy fist.

  Below the steps, a small crowd of students gathered to watch what could potentially become an entertaining fight.

  Among the crowd, Darcy stood with her hoi polloi of followers. Caitlin stood next to her, ears plugged with small white earbuds blasting the latest pop anthem. She blathered on about the new flavor of gum at Tavern’s QUICK-N-GO.

  Darcy had stopped listening some time ago, really, but she had only stopped pretending to listen when she heard the other students whispering and pointing to the school’s front steps.

  “So‌…‌what?” Donnie asked, looking between the two. “You two starting the Loner Society, or the Detention Club? Oh, I know, it’s the Grandma’s Scouts Club, am I right?”

  Nash grabbed Donnie’s jacket lapel and raised his fist, ready to beat the living daylights out of the guy. It made his day a little better to see Donnie quiver in fear; not even the bully’s lackeys moved to stop Nash. A few of the jocks below had taken up a chant: “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

  But then Nash felt a hand on his arm, and his nostrils flared. He turned to see Charlie shaking his head. Charlie wasn’t holding him back, not really‌—‌they both knew Nash was the stronger one here. It seemed Charlie was reminding him more of where he was.

  Caught between aggravation and gratitude, Nash lowered his fist and shoved Donnie back with a sneer.

  “You’re not worth the detention,” said Nash.

  “That’s right, coward,” said Donnie, backing into his group of fellow bullies. “Even you couldn’t take us all on in a fight. And loner freak over there isn’t going to help you,” he added, pointing at Charlie.

  And that’s when Darcy made her move.

  In truth, she felt bad about reporting Nash the day before. He had backed into her accidently while fighting, and so she had used her influence as the mayor’s daughter against him. It was a force of habit.

  Nash had thrown the first punch. But she knew it was Donnie who’d really deserved detention. She knew Donnie’s habit of badmouthing anyone who’d gone missing, and she hated him for it. Truly, intensely hated him for it. And she could not forgive him for it.

  Darcy marched a third of the way up the steps.

  “Shut up, Wickles!”

  Donnie, not to mention Charlie and Nash, turned in surprise. In fact, the entire crowd was surprised.

  What on earth was Darcy Witherington, the mayor’s daughter of all people, doing sticking up for two of the school’s loser class? One of whom she reported to the principal’s office just yesterday?

  Donnie recovered quickly, pretending to be ashamed.

  “Sorry, Witherington. Am I making fun of your boyfriend? Which one is he?” he asked, pointing his fingers between Charlie and Nash.

  Darcy suddenly felt awkward and a little silly. Her cheeks flushed hot in the cold. But she wasn’t the backing-down type.

  And just when everyone was sure they had the absolute best gossip for the next day, the school doors opened again to let pass a certain set of black-and-white twins with piles of books in their arms. The Vadiknovs noticed the crowd and saw the standoff between Darcy, Donnie, Charlie, and Nash. They stared‌—‌Lisa glaring, Liev smiling‌—‌at each in turn.

  Now, everyone knew that detention was served in the library. And as small town gossip goes, everyone knew that Charlie and Nash had just come from detention, which made it very interesting to see the Vadiknovs coming out of the library with their arms full of books, yet staring suspiciously at the two detentionees. And just what was Darcy’s place in this, the crowd of students wondered. What was in it for her?

  This was turning out to be one very interesting Tuesday.

  And then a sound broke the excitement in the air. They heard it. They all heard it.

  Somewhere far off‌—‌but not far enough‌—‌a woman screamed.

  And the really horrible thing about the scream, everyone knew instinctively, was that it had been cut short. Muffled. Silenced.

  Someone had just gone missing.

  Everyone in front of the school held their breath, goose bumps creeping up their arms and the hairs on the back of their necks raising a shuddering chill. The twins looked and nodded at each other before pressing past Charlie and Nash, Donnie and his posse, Darcy, and the crowd below.

  The twin’s departure did it. The crowd seemed to melt like ice, every student back to the present. Donnie Wickles in particular, suddenly sweating enough to notice in such crisp weather, seemed in a hurry to get home. The students all scattered away, off in the parking lot, or to the sidewalks, talking about everything under the sun that could keep their thoughts occupied. Everything but the scream. And nobody left by themselves.

  Charlie, pale, looked at Nash. They quickly shared an understanding. Both had figured out which direction the scream had come from. In the same direction lay the woods of Hunter’s Point‌—‌Hunter’s Key sitting atop like a crown jewel of horror.

  “Two heads are better than one,” said Charlie. “And safer.”

  Nash looked at the ground, then at Charlie, and nodded. “Alright. Together then.”

  “It has to be tonight. We can’t let anyone else be taken.”

  Nash nodded solemnly.

  Darcy watched the two go before she realized what was eating at her: she wanted to apologize to Nash.

  Nash had been right to shut Donnie Wickles up the day before. Donnie had been in the wrong‌—‌a dirty, sickening wrong. And that made her in the wrong, too. It was a new feeling, and not a comfortable one at that.

  She felt disappointed, seei
ng that Charlie and Nash were already on the sidewalks, and that her father’s car was pulling up. She did not want to say sorry to anyone, but this sudden guilt trip would bother her until she did.

  It would have to wait. The two previously known school “loners” had turned a sidewalk corner, and her father’s car parked beside her. Darcy halfheartedly waved goodbye to her friends and left the school grounds.

  Up on the front crest of the roof hiding just out of sight, the Chief of Assistants had been watching the scene unfold with interest, until he too heard the scream.

  It was done. He allowed himself a smile for a job well done. But it was a broken smile, tarnished by despair and longing for a way out.

  Hopes and fears aside, he turned his attention back to the human fledglings. He was looking for possible new targets, even if he did not want to be because, if he didn’t, the master would have his skeleton for one of his many trophies.

  Worse, if he didn’t find the diary soon, the master might have it anyway‌…‌or something more gruesome would be arranged.

  The Chief of Assistants turned his gaze away from the departing fledglings. There was one last place to look, and that was in the woods around Hunter’s Point.

  He hoped it was not in there. The tangle of brush and trees would make it hard to find a neighing horse in those woods, even for someone like him.

  Then again, he hoped it was in the woods, and that he would find it, since it had not been anywhere else he had looked yet.

  Either way, it would be no fun whatsoever to be so close to Hunter’s Key.

  The Chief of Assistants scratched his small head and shuffled away from the edge of the roof with an eye open for a new target to send a Collector after, and also the diary, and‌—‌just maybe‌—‌a little piece of hope.

  His eyes grew wider in the nearly set sun. The air was growing colder. He jumped down from the roof, carefully avoiding human eyes, and made a beeline for Hunter’s Point.

  Chapter 3: The Varcolac’s Diary

  “Hello?”

  Charlie cradled the phone to his ear. “Hey Dad.”

  “Hi Charlie. Did you just get out of detention?”

  “Uh, yeah,” said Charlie, cringing at the D-word.

  Charlie’s mother had been absolutely livid about his getting sent to detention again, but his father had intervened. After all, Mrs. Pinkerly had been his dad’s teacher, too.

  “Alright, sport, see you in a minute then.”

  “Well, actually….” Charlie looked over to his shoulder to where Nash stood, impatiently tapping his foot. “I was going to hang out with some friends. I mean, if that’s okay.”

  “Friends?” asked Mr. Sullivan, surprised. “You’re meeting friends?”

  Charlie waited for his father to tell him no and to start heading home.

  “Well, your mother’s still upset about detention, but I’ll hold the fort down here. You go have fun. I’m always telling you to make some friends. Just don’t cause too much trouble around town….”

  “Dad.”

  Mr. Sullivan chuckled over the phone. “Love you, kiddo. See you when you get home.”

  “Love you, too, Dad.”

  Charlie closed his cell phone with a snap and turned around.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  Nash nodded.

  “Your folks won’t mind?”

  “Nah. They’re pretty cool with things, you know?”

  “Right. Well, let’s go on and get this over with.”

  After the scream, Nash had said he knew someone who could get them into the woods around Hunter’s Key. That someone was affectionately known as Fish‌—‌Fish McCollum.

  Charlie knew about Fish, and Wardley Dink, too. He protested‌—‌they were, in essence, the village idiots‌—‌but Nash reassured him, saying that if anybody knew their way around Hunter’s Point, it was Fish and Dink.

  But before they went to get the alleged simpletons, they needed another sort of expertise. Though the encounter in the library had been awkward, both Charlie and Nash agreed that the Vadiknov twins were onto the truth behind Hunter’s Key as well. The two could be useful allies.

  And if they were going up against a serial kidnapper, they would need all the help available.

  Charlie and Nash jogged, following the sidewalk the Vadiknovs had taken. It wasn’t long before they caught up with the twins, but what they saw stopped them dead in their tracks.

  In the distance, the Vadiknovs’ books were lying helter-skelter on the ground as Lisa held onto the clothing of some flailing‌…‌creature. It was hideous‌—‌like a grayish green devil, with long, skinny limbs and giant eyes‌—‌and dressed in elaborate robes.

  “What is that thing?” Charlie asked, hoarse.

  Nash shook his head, just as stupefied.

  As his sister held onto the monster, Liev tried to pick it up, unsuccessfully. It slapped Liev’s hand away and tried to bite Lisa with its needle-like teeth. In the dark evening, its big black eyes caught light from the streetlamps, giving the impression of a demon’s flashing eyes.

  “Get it! Would you get it already!” Lisa shouted. It had just missed biting her hand that time.

  “I’m trying! Would you kindly hold him still?”

  Liev was aggravated too. His hands were an angry red from being slapped so much. Finally, the monster’s slapping prevailed, and Liev could no longer feel his hands. It smacked Lisa with a resounding SWAP and she let go as well.

  The small monster fell backward, flailing. It rolled and scrambled upwards before disappearing into some foliage, quick as a cat being chased by a water hose.

  The twins, looking rather disappointed, rubbed their hands and watched the bushes wistfully.

  Charlie snapped out of it first. Considering he had just seen something that really was not supposed to exist, he was coping well. As the Vadiknovs stooped to gather their books, Charlie nudged Nash on the arm. They jogged up to the twins on shaky legs.

  The twins saw them coming and straightened up like nothing had happened, ignoring the books all over the sidewalk. Liev gave his whitest smile.

  “What on earth was that?” Charlie called, ten feet away.

  “What was what?” asked Lisa.

  “Oh come on! We saw it. Don’t try to act as if you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “I’m sure I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about,” Liev said. “And I doubt Lisa does, either.”

  The twins gathered their books quickly, turned and began to walk down the sidewalk at a casual pace.

  Desperate, Charlie called out to them. “It has to do with Hunter’s Key, doesn’t it?”

  They stopped, shared a look, turned.

  “What do you know about Hunter’s Key?” Lisa called back, doubt in her voice.

  “We know that it has to do with the missing people,” Nash said. “We were going up there tonight, and thought you might be able to help us.”

  “You’re going up to Hunter’s Key?” asked Liev. He clearly did not believe Nash. “How’s that? There’s a gate, you know. A really big one. With no way around it.”

  “It’s locked with a heavy silver chain,” added his sister.

  “I know somebody who could get us into the grounds,” said Nash. “Are you in or not?”

  The twins looked at each other, communicating silently.

  Liev turned back to them with a faint smile. “Alright. We’re in.”

  The twins were going home to drop off their books while Charlie and Nash went to fetch Fish and Dink. Everyone was to meet at eight o’clock on Midday Street. On the way, Charlie voiced his concern about getting past the gate, while Nash tried to reassure him.

  “Fish’ll get us in, don’t worry.”

  “Just in case he can’t, it would be nice to have a backup plan.”

  “Right, but the Vadiknovs said the gate had a heavy silver chain on it. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a chainsaw handy. Or are you thinking about knockin
g?”

  Really, Charlie already had an idea. He just didn’t want to say it. Nash would hate it, and understandably so.

  “Chains usually have padlocks,” he thought out loud.

  “Usually.”

  “So I’m thinking if we had a key to unlock the padlocks….”

  “And you’d find the key, where?”

  “Well, the property belongs to the mayor.”

  “Mmhm. And the mayor’s going to hand over his castle-mansion key ring because…?”

  This is where Charlie’s idea got difficult.

  “Not the mayor. His daughter, Darcy. She’ll give us the key. Or, I think she might.”

  Nash stopped walking and gave Charlie the evil eye. For a minute, Charlie thought Nash might strangle him, but instead he burst into a laughing fit.

  “Darcy Witherington‌…‌that’s a good one.” Then after a short pause, “Wait, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “What are you, crazy?”

  Charlie flinched. “She stood up for us today.”

  “Don’t tell me you bought that. She probably took a dare from one of her friends. Either that or she was trying to make herself look good, sticking up for the losers.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Well I am. Darcy, give us the key to Hunter’s Key? I doubt she would give us a spare umbrella on a rainy day.”

  The sky rumbled in the distance, as if Nash’s mention of rain had excited it. They both stood looking up at it as if it might break into a mighty thunderstorm before moving on.

  Charlie noted that the Witherington’s house‌—‌not to be confused with Hunter’s Key‌—‌would be on the way back from Fish McCollum’s house. It was clear that Nash was against the idea of inviting Darcy to their group, but Charlie was not ready to give up on that yet. He had seen her guilty expression and, given her family’s connection to the Key, he knew she might turn out to be useful, much like the twins had been.

  Still, Charlie kept it to himself. It was no use arguing with Nash.