PETER AND THE VAMPIRES (Volume One) (PETER AND THE MONSTERS)

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PETER AND THE VAMPIRES (Volume One) (PETER AND THE MONSTERS) Page 38

by Darren Pillsbury


  “How’d they get in there?” Eric asked.

  “Are you ready to hear the truth yet?” Peter challenged him.

  “Does the truth involve a twenty-foot-tall dinosaur?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then no, I don’t think I am,” Eric answered.

  “It was more like a giant frog,” Dill offered. “A dinofrog. Or a giant salamander…a dinomander. Or…salasaur. Or – ”

  “Dill.” Peter made a ‘zip it’ motion across his lips.

  “They’re not waking up, Jenkins!” the man called from down in the hole.

  “Get down there,” Jenkins snarled at the paramedics.

  The two men in blue jumpsuits grabbed the rope and climbed down into the ground. After a minute, one of them called out, “They’re breathing and they appear to be stable, but they’re in some kind of stupor and they’re not waking up. We gotta get ‘em back to the hospital.”

  Jenkins pointed at Dill and Peter. “You boys better have a good explanation for all this.”

  “They’re knocked out,” Peter told him. “The monster stung them and put them to sleep. I think it was going to hibernate and eat them later.”

  Jenkins shook his head. “That’s not what I call a good explanation.”

  Dill stuck out his chin. “I want a lawyer.”

  “What?”

  “I know my rights, I watch all the cop shows. I want a lawyer.”

  Jenkins balled his hand up into a fist. “Why you little – ”

  Eric stood up between the deputy and Dill. “I think we can do this later, can’t we? Right now our priority is those two kids down in that cave.”

  Jenkins pointed at Dill. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  “Talk to my lawyer, dude,” Dill retorted.

  “Yeah,” Peter added.

  He’d just been eaten alive. Mean sheriff’s deputies didn’t scare him.

  Well…maybe a little.

  38

  The hospital was small by most standards, but large for a town of Duskerville’s size. It stood three stories high, and probably had a hundred rooms or so. Right now Dill and Peter were on the first floor in an emergency room station, sitting atop a padded table where people normally laid down. Grandfather walked into the room as the doctor was examining them.

  “You alright, boy?” Grandfather asked.

  “Yup,” Dill affirmed.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Grandfather snarled.

  Dill fidgeted silently for the rest of the check-up.

  The doctor found nothing more than some bruises and scrapes. He did coat their cuts with some purplish liquid, though, which stung like fire.

  “OW!” Dill yelled. “Hey, cut that out!”

  “And you say you got eaten alive?” the doctor asked Peter.

  “Yes,” Peter sighed. It was the fiftieth time he’d answered the question in the last hour, and nobody had believed him yet.

  “By a giant amphibian.”

  “Dinofrog!” Dill chimed in.

  “Mm-hmm,” the doctor said as he scraped some gunk off of Peter’s hair and put it in a test tube, then labeled it with a sticker.

  Ranger Eric and Deputy Jenkins came in the room shortly thereafter.

  “What’s the word, doc?” Jenkins said.

  “Some minor cuts. I cleaned them up with iodine, they’re good to go.”

  “What about the…” Eric said, and gestured to his hair.

  “I took some swabs. We’ll run them through the lab, but you’d be better off sending the boy’s clothes and those tissue samples to Charterton University’s science department. They’re better equipped for something like this than we are.”

  “You actually think he got ate up?” Jenkins growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “I didn’t say that,” the doctor protested, and looked back at Peter and Dill. “Maybe we should refer them to psychiatrics for an evaluation.”

  “You keep those guys with the butterfly nets away from me. Are we banged up enough to stay home from school tomorrow?” Dill inquired.

  “No, you’re fine.”

  “Well, crap,” Dill muttered. “You got eaten for nothing, Pete.”

  Once the doctor left, Eric looked around the room.

  “Uh, where’s your mom, Peter?” he asked hopefully.

  “Back at the house, blissfully unaware of this foolishness. You can deal with me,” Grandfather said.

  “Okay…what about Dill’s parents?”

  Deputy Jenkins stared down at Dill. “We called ‘em, but from what I know about Bodinski’s folks, they’d probably just assume we lock him up as pay for the gas to come get him. Isn’t that right, Bodinski?”

  “Where’s my lawyer, cop?” Dill shot back.

  Jenkins bared his teeth. “You little snot-nosed – ”

  “Dill, you’re in an awful lot of trouble,” Eric butted in. “It would look better if you cooperated.”

  “And what trouble is that, exactly?” Grandfather asked.

  “Well, first off, their involvement in the disappearance of those two boys.”

  “How are they?”

  “They’re awake and doing fine. The doctors said they were under the influence of some kind of depressant or sedative, but they were able to bring them out of it with stimulants.”

  “And what did the two boys say about what happened?”

  Eric shifted from foot to foot. “Uh, Rory doesn’t remember anything. Greg says he doesn’t remember much, but he keeps mumbling about a…”

  “A what?” Grandfather pressed.

  “A giant frog,” Eric said quietly.

  “Dinofrog!” Dill yipped.

  “Well, until you have a more credible alternative, it would seem that the boys will have to be taken at their word,” Grandfather said.

  Jenkins pointed out into the hallway. “That kid’s brain has been twisted by these two punks here. I don’t care what you say, old man, these two juvenile delinquents did something to those kids, and I’m gonna find out what.”

  “And how do you explain the cave full of bones?” Grandfather asked.

  “I got no idea how they did it, but – ”

  “Are you suggesting two ten-year-old boys dug an underground cave, gathered hundreds of bones – some human, from what I understand – and placed them there?”

  “How do you know so much about this?” Jenkins sneered suspiciously.

  “Your fellow deputies are a talkative bunch.”

  “Your little grandson here might’ve been mixed up in some sort of Satanic cult with all those bones. What do you say to that?”

  “I say we conduct a lie detector test.”

  Jenkins looked surprised. “That’s not admissible in court, and you know it.”

  “But it would clear things up. While we’re at it, why don’t you dredge the lake? If there really is some giant reptile’s carcass down there, why don’t we settle this once and for all?”

  Jenkins huffed and puffed. “I’m not about to ask taxpayers to spend thousands of dollars to go running after your boy’s lies.”

  Grandfather smiled menacingly. “I’ll pay for it, Jenkins. I’ll even hire a private crew to do it.”

  Jenkins smirked, then shook his head. “That lake is a crime scene, old man. Nobody but nobody is doing anything until I say so.”

  Eric spoke up. “I think that should be Sheriff Gunderson’s call.”

  “He’s out of town, so shut up, Hartwell, and stay out of this.”

  Eric’s face flushed in anger.

  “Who’s going to inspect the cave?” Grandfather asked.

  “We called the university. They’re going to send down some biologists to take a look,” Eric muttered.

  “I would suggest the archeology department, too. My guess is that some of those bones are well over a hundred years old. Which would seem to rule out these two boys,” Grandfather snarled at Jenkins. “So what other trumped-up charges are you going to try to pin on them?”

&nb
sp; “That’s my lawyer,” Dill said, and pointed up at Grandfather.

  “Quiet,” he snapped.

  “Okay, okay,” Dill whispered.

  “Well, there’s the matter of them breaking into the ranger station buildings and stealing the raft and scuba supplies and walkie-talkies,” Eric said.

  “That’s trespassing, breaking and entering, and grand theft right there,” Jenkins grinned. “That’s enough to put them in juvie till they’re 18 for sure.”

  “We did that to save Rory and Greg!” Peter argued.

  “Or maybe to cover up whatever you did to them.”

  “You think you could prove that in a court of law?” Grandfather asked.

  “You bet your bottom dollar, I could,” Jenkins sneered.

  “I doubt it. Not until you can provide an eyewitness who remembers something other than giant frogs.”

  Grandfather and Jenkins stared each other down until Eric interrupted. “We’re talking close to a thousand dollars worth of damages, Mr. Flannagan.”

  “Well, I suggest a compromise. The boys should pay back what they owe.”

  Peter looked up at Grandfather. “Whaaaaat?”

  “Hey, what kind of a lawyer are you?” Dill shouted.

  “I’m sure we can work out a suitable schedule of community service. That way, the boys can repay their debt to the rangers, and it won’t have to go on their permanent records.”

  “You can’t do that!” Jenkins sputtered. “I’m taking this to court!”

  “Then I’ll fight it with every penny I’ve got.” Grandfather smiled grimly. “And as you know, Jenkins, I’ve got quite a few pennies. I can see the headlines now: ‘Sheriff’s Department Prosecutes Two Local Boys Over Giant Frog Case.’ It might just make the national newspapers.”

  “That’s my lawyer,” Dill grinned, until Grandfather’s heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder.

  “You do whatever you want, old man, but those two hoodlums right there are going to see their day in court.”

  “Not if the ranger’s department doesn’t press charges,” Eric said.

  Jenkins looked over in surprise. “What?”

  “And I don’t think we will,” Eric continued. “As senior ranger at the park, the state forestry department will ask me my opinion – and it’s my opinion we shouldn’t press charges. Provided we can work out some sort of a compromise, Mr. Flannagan.”

  “ Hartwell – ”

  “Shut up, Jenkins,” Eric shot back.

  The deputy looked like he was going to tear someone in half. “You’ll be sorry you crossed me, boy.” He looked back at Grandfather, Dill, and Peter. “You’ll ALL be sorry,” he swore as he stomped out of the room.

  “I apologize about that,” Eric said to Dill and Peter. “The rest of the sheriff’s department is really great, but Jenkins…he’s got a bit of a chip on his shoulder.”

  “More like a redwood,” Grandfather muttered.

  “I’ll call you with the details about the community service, Mr. Flannagan, and we’ll hash something out, okay?”

  Eric stuck his hand out towards Grandfather, and they shook on it.

  “Take care, guys. I don’t know if I believe all that stuff about monsters, but…I think you probably did something pretty brave out there today.” Eric’s eyes twinkled. “And say hello to your mom for me, okay Pete?”

  39

  After the ranger had left, Grandfather ushered them out of the hospital and over to his battered truck in the parking lot.

  “Do you think they’ll do anything about the monster’s body?” Peter asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not? It’s like knowing where the Loch Ness monster is and not doing anything about it!”

  “Yeah, we could be famous!” Dill shouted.

  “By the time Jenkins frees up the crime scene – which will probably be months from now – fish will have picked those bones clean. And with the currents from the springs, the parts could wind up scattered all over the lake.”

  “Maybe it’ll float back up or wash to shore!” Peter protested.

  “Maybe.”

  “Why don’t you hire a boat like you said and pay people to go find it?”

  Grandfather snorted. “I don’t want to give Jenkins a reason to throw me in jail.”

  “But you could be famous!” Dill begged.

  “All the more reason not to do it.”

  “Why do you think Greg isn’t saying what really happened?” Peter asked.

  “He may not remember. The brain is a peculiar thing…sometimes when we go through something horrible, the mind only remembers what it thinks we can handle.”

  “Then what are they going to say?” Peter asked. “If they don’t believe us, and there’s nobody to tell them the truth, what are they going to tell everybody?”

  “Didn’t you learn anything last time with those vampires, boy? They’ll make something up.”

  Peter sighed in despair. Even when he told the truth, people didn’t believe him.

  They had reached the truck. Grandfather unlocked the driver’s side door.

  “You believe me, right, Grandfather?”

  The old man peered down at Peter. “That thing really ate you alive, hm?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you blew it up from the inside, eh?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You smell like it.” Grandfather jerked his head towards the truck bed. “Ride in the back.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Peter asked in amazement.

  “I don’t want my truck smelling like frog guts,” Grandfather said as he climbed into the cab.

  “Ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Dill laughed, and pointed at Peter. But when he tried the passenger door, it was locked.

  “You, too,” Grandfather snarled at Dill through the closed window.

  “What?! He smells bad!”

  Grandfather shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s about a five mile walk back to the house. Or you can ask Deputy Jenkins for a ride in his cruiser, if you like. I’m sure he’d love to see you again.”

  Dill grumbled as he got into the back beside Peter. “I don’t care how much lawyering you did today, you old coot, I ain’t payin’ you for any of it, makin’ me ride in the back of the truck…”

  “You like riding in the back of the truck,” Peter pointed out.

  “Not with somebody covered in frog guts.”

  “So you don’t want to know what it was like?” Peter asked. “Inside the stomach?”

  Dill reconsidered. “Well…was it cool?”

  “It was GROSS.”

  All the way home, Peter told Dill about the horrors of being eaten alive. Out here in the sunshine, it seemed like a fading nightmare, and talking about it made it better. Almost funny, in a way.

  Actually, being back there in the truck bed with the wind in his hair made a lot of things better. He didn’t care that nobody except Grandfather believed them. He didn’t care how long he was going to have to do community service. And he didn’t care that he now had an enemy in the sheriff’s department.

  Well, Peter did care a little about that. But he could deal with it, because Greg and Rory were back in the hospital, awake and safe and alive.

  He had kept his promise.

  And now, a sneak preview

  of the first story in

  PETER AND THE WEREWOLVES

  (Volume Two)

  Or Just Buy It Here Right Now!

  PETER AND THE MANNEQUINS

  1

  It was a Saturday afternoon, and Peter was cleaning plants.

  Peter and Dill were at Duskerville’s only indoor mall, wearing orange plastic vests over their clothes and wiping the dust off of leaves. As part of their punishment for wrecking a state park rangers’ station, they had to work for the rangers until they paid off a broken lock, smashed window, and a stolen raft and scuba tank. And at less than minimum wage, it was going to take about a hundred and fifty years.

  Of course, nobody cared tha
t they had done all of that to save two schoolmates from certain death, because nobody believed their story about the giant swamp monster in the town lake.

  This was Peter’s first experience with telling adults about the strange events that had started when he moved to Duskerville two months ago. The week he moved in, he had to fight thirteen dead men who lived in the woods outside his grandfather’s crumbling mansion. Two weeks after that he had to deal with a girl who died and came back as a vampire. Then there was the fairie changeling that had swapped places with his two-and-a-half-year-old sister Beth. And the swamp monster after that.

  All in all, it had been a busy eight weeks.

  No adults other than Grandfather knew about his strange adventures, not even Peter’s mom. Grandfather knew because he had been dealing with the same problems all his life. In fact, Peter’s whole family had been dealing with horrible supernatural disasters for at least 200 years. Peter still didn’t know why; he had found mention of a centuries-old curse among Grandfather’s private papers, but the old man wouldn’t talk about it. In fact, Grandfather wouldn’t talk about much of anything unless a monster was beating down the door and trying to kill them. Most of the time he just kept to his study and read his thousands and thousands of ancient books.

  In Peter’s opinion, the old man’s reaction was far better than the one he got from everybody else. When the swamp monster’s remains disappeared and the victims developed amnesia, Peter and Dill had been doubted by the adults, threatened by a sheriff’s deputy, and sentenced to community service.

  At the moment, they were dusting trees in the sitting area outside a couple of clothing stores. Well, Peter was; Dill just gazed jealously at what was taking place a hundred feet away.

  The area around the Way Mo’ Toys store was roped off, and workers at the shop were demonstrating the newest toy SUV to a crowd of kids. It was one of those miniature plastic cars with an electric engine, the kind five-year-olds played with in the driveways of their homes. Peter had never had one, and had always associated them with rich kids.

  This particular SUV had a lot of pep. It could go really fast, brake on a dime, and turn in tight circles. It was the kind of thing that parents hated because it was dangerous, and kids loved for the exact same reason.

 

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