by Lija Fisher
Clivo laughed. “Okay, Coops, you’re right. As long as you understand the dangers, I won’t keep you out of the action anymore. Fair?”
Jerry rubbed his hands together eagerly. “You know I love nothing more than being in the middle of the action!”
Charles suddenly called to them from the middle of the room. “Dudes and dudettes, we’ve discovered something.”
Everyone gathered around Adam’s workstation, where he was holding something behind his back. “Okay, McConaughey’s idea about all the cryptids having the same electromagnetic energy is an interesting possibility, but super hard to prove. But it did get me thinking about other physical properties the cryptids have in common. Like this.” Adam pulled a tranquilizer dart from behind his back.
Clivo furrowed his brow. “But we used that dart earlier to see if the tranquilizer was contaminating the cryptids’ blood. And it wasn’t.”
“Actually, it was,” Charles broke in, his rabbit teeth sticking out ominously. “With this.”
He held up a glass slide with a black square on it that was no bigger than an ant.
“What is it?” Clivo asked.
“It’s a tracking chip,” Adam said, taking it from Charles. “Every time you caught a cryptid, you implanted a tracking device in it. Did you know that?”
Clivo shook his head, unsure if this was good news or bad. “I guess Douglas did that so he can track the immortal once I find it.”
“Well, someone’s been hacking the signal and tracking the other cryptids,” Adam said. “Stephanie, any chance you could hack into the signal and find out where the cryptids are?”
Stephanie took the glass slide and looked at the tracking device through a magnifying glass. “I think I could. I would just need access to a satellite.”
Everyone’s eyes swung to Jerry, who immediately began shaking his head. “No and no and, in case you didn’t hear me the second time, no and forever no.”
“Just hear her out, Coops,” Clivo begged.
“Anything regarding my dad’s work is off-limits. You know this!” Jerry said. “I gave you access to a SETL satellite once. Once! That was the deal, man. You need to find another way.”
Clivo put his hands on Jerry’s shoulders to calm him down. “Coops, I hate to ask you to stick out your neck again like this, but we need to find these cryptids.”
Jerry kept shaking his head. “After getting kicked off the football team again, my dad is this close to sending me to a military academy. If I mess up one more time, I’ll be in basic training by fall.”
“Just give her the codes, dude,” Adam said, peeling an orange.
“Hey, man, this could get me in real trouble!” Jerry retorted.
Adam flung an orange peel at him. “And Clivo was drugged by a demon chicken! We’re all taking risks here!”
Jerry took a step back and looked Clivo up and down. “You were drugged by a demon chicken?”
“Momentarily, but I’m fine,” Clivo assured.
“Don’t worry, Jerry, I’ll protect you,” Stephanie said, her hand resting on his arm in reassurance. “I’m good at what I do—very good. If you just give me the security codes, I’ll hop on and hop off, just like I did before. Nobody will know. We’ll just ask those sensitive receivers on the satellite to point in the opposite direction for a while.”
“Are you really as good as you say you are?” Jerry asked, looking at Stephanie sideways.
Stephanie cracked her knuckles. “As far as hackers go? I’m pretty darn good.”
Jerry blew air through his lips a few times in exasperation before finally saying, “Okay, let’s do this before I regret it.”
Stephanie sat at her laptop, rolled her wrists around as if she was about to perform a gymnastics routine, and hovered her fingers over the keyboard. “Ready whenever you are.”
Jerry glanced at everyone, who had huddled in close. “A little space here, please?”
“Right, sorry, dude,” Charles and Adam said in unison while backing away.
Jerry whispered something to Stephanie, who giggled. “Really? That’s the password for their computer system?”
Jerry nodded. “Right? My dad chooses it, and he’s such a dork.”
Stephanie focused on the computer, her hands flying around like hummingbirds. Her blue eyes flashed as number-filled screens popped up in front of her with incredible speed. With the password, she could walk right into the system through the internet. “Now I just need to make it look like the system is offline for a bit so I can hijack its equipment. It’s a LEO bird, meaning it’s in a low-Earth orbit and takes about ninety minutes to circle the planet. I’m asking it to turn away from outer space and sweep the surface of the Earth for what we’re looking for as it makes its orbit. Hopefully Douglas used the same bunch of transponders for each tranquilizer dart, so by tracking this one, I can track them all.”
Stephanie typed rapidly, humming to herself quietly. Her pursed lips were the only sign of effort as screen after screen of computer codes scrolled by.
With a final click of her mouse, she sat back and took a sip of water. “That should do it. Now, you all have to leave me be for an hour and a half while the satellite and I get better acquainted.”
* * *
The impatient gang took a break for a late breakfast, making a mess of Aunt Pearl’s kitchen and then cleaning it up again before she’d even surfaced from her bedroom. Clivo assumed it had been a late night of dancing the evening before.
They reconvened at Stephanie’s workstation exactly ninety minutes later.
“Okay, this has been going well. I have been plotting some coordinates from the satellite onto a map. We can throw it up on the wall so everyone can have a better view. Adam?”
Adam turned on a digital projector and a map of the world glowed on the wall, a collection of bright dots pinpointing different locations.
Amelia took it from there. She grabbed a yardstick to point at places on the map, like a lecturing professor. “Okay, folks, look alive. These are the locations of all the transponders from Clivo and his dad’s tranquilizer darts.”
Clivo studied the map. “There’s a dot over here by itself. Where’s that?”
Stephanie zoomed in from her keyboard. “Loch Ness. That must be Nessie.”
“Okay, so she’s still in the loch, but we knew that already ’cause of the sightings,” Clivo said. “Where was that other single dot?”
Stephanie moved the map to the other dart. “That one is in Russia, where you found the Ugly Merman. Maybe he’s okay, too?”
“Maybe,” Clivo said, scratching his chin, “but I also used a dart on a black bear who had invaded my camp, so there should be two dots there, not just one.”
Stephanie zoomed in on the western United States until they were suddenly looking at a large cluster of dots. She caught her breath sharply. “This is bad, guys. Over a dozen cryptids are all in the same place. Someone has been taking them, and they’re all gathered together.”
Clivo’s blood began to boil. As twisted a plot as it would be, he could understand someone taking the immortal; that made sense. But why gather up all the cryptids?
He and his dad had fought so hard to keep the other cryptids’ whereabouts a secret. Who’d done this, and why?
“Where are they?” Clivo asked, his jaw clenched in anger.
Stephanie zoomed in even closer, her face melting in confusion. “You can see for yourself. They’re right here. In Old Colorado City.”
“What?” Clivo asked, leaning in closer to the map. He had been prepared to fly across the globe to figure out who’d been doing this. Discovering the cryptids were all in his own backyard made his stomach turn. “Can you get me the exact address?”
She brought up a street-map layer and without much trouble zeroed in on the location. She scribbled down an address and handed it to him. “It looks like it’s near the Air Force Academy.”
Clivo grabbed the paper and stalked toward the stairs, where Jerry imme
diately stepped in front of him. “Where do you think you’re going, cowboy?”
“Out of my way, Jerry,” Clivo said, his face red with anger.
“So you can do what? What are you going to do?” his friend asked.
Clivo stared at Jerry. He had no idea what he was going to do. He just wanted to rescue the cryptids. “I’m a little short on plans at the moment,” Clivo admitted.
“That’s what I thought,” Jerry said, putting his hand on Clivo’s shoulder. “Now, you’re a little hot under the collar, so why don’t you simmer down, put your feet up for a while, and let your coolheaded friend plan our next move?”
“And what’s our next move?” Clivo asked. He was so angry, even his breath felt heated.
Jerry brought his face close to Clivo’s and smiled. “Time to do some reconnaissance work, my friend, which your old pal Jerry happens to be very good at.”
Clivo shook his head. “Jerry, I know I said you could come, but this is too much. Like, level-ten danger.”
Jerry wagged his finger in front of Clivo’s face. “We just talked about this. You can’t do everything alone, Wrenmaster, no matter how dangerous. I won’t let you. And that’s the end of that discussion.”
Jerry was right. Clivo couldn’t do everything alone, especially when he wasn’t even sure what lay ahead of him. He wanted to keep Jerry safe, but the reality was, maybe they were more powerful together. Clivo finally nodded. “Looks like it’s time to jump into the middle of the action, Coops.”
Jerry clapped his hands. “Right where I belong.”
XI
By the time the taxi dropped Clivo and Jerry off that evening, it was fully dark and the air had cooled from the heat of the day. Gray clouds had rolled in over the mountains, and rumbles of thunder echoed in the distance.
The address led them to a warehouse nestled up against the mountains on the outskirts of town. A row of lights blinked in the distance, and a massive military plane landed on the nearby Air Force Academy’s runway with a roar of its engines. The academy was so close by that Clivo thought the warehouse was perhaps one of their abandoned buildings. It was redbrick, with towers and turrets reaching to the sky like on a castle. A bolt of lightning lit up the clouds, illuminating gargoyles with evil, grotesque faces and pointy ears. Clivo half expected an army suited up in chain mail to start shooting arrows at them from the roof.
“The creep level of this place is totally off the charts,” Jerry whispered as a crack of thunder made him jump.
Clivo gripped the tranquilizer gun in his hand and stared at the castle-like structure. It really was ominous-looking, and it seemed like an appropriate place for something nefarious to happen. “Okay, Coops, this is an exploratory mission only. We’re here to see if the cryptids are actually in there, and if they are, we’ll come back once we have a plan.”
“You got it, Wren,” Jerry said, shifting the coil of rope over his shoulder.
They jogged toward the building, Clivo’s eyes swinging to the roof to make sure nobody was watching them. He still expected to see a glint of armor from a medieval army, but the flashes of lighting illuminated nothing but the turrets and gargoyles. They circled the castle, looking for windows to peer through or doors that might be easily broken into. No cars were parked outside, which hopefully meant it was deserted, although there was a large helicopter sitting on a landing pad in the back.
“That could be how they transport the cryptids,” Clivo whispered. “It looks just like the one I saw in Germany when the Elwetritsch was taken.”
Jerry nodded. “Should we sabotage it so it doesn’t fly anymore?”
Clivo thought about that. “No, let’s keep it exploratory only, remember? Also, we might need it to get the cryptids back home.”
Jerry looked at Clivo sideways. “You know how to fly a helicopter?”
“Well, no, but don’t you think it’s better to have the option of a helicopter than not?”
Jerry shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”
They inspected the whole building, but the walls were solid brick and the only door was an arched metal structure with a glowing number pad next to it that must have been the electronic lock.
“Looks like next time we need to bring a catapult or battering ram,” Jerry whispered.
Clivo pointed toward the roof. “Do you think we can use your rope to climb up there?”
“Easy,” Jerry said, tying the rope into a lasso. He swung it over his head like a professional cowboy and tossed it high, and it easily caught around the head of a particularly nasty-looking gargoyle. Jerry leaned on the rope with all his weight to make sure it would hold, then began to climb.
“Hang on, let me go first,” Clivo said. “I want to make sure it’s safe up there before you come.”
Jerry sighed. “And I want to make sure it’s safe for you, got it?”
Clivo stepped away and let Jerry continue his climb. Clivo knew he had to get used to Jerry wanting to protect him, even though he really didn’t like it.
Jerry easily shimmied up the rope and swung his legs over the brick ledge. He ducked down into a crouch and ran along the parapet, jumping around corners with his fists held up, ready to tackle anyone who confronted him.
Clivo watched the display and almost began laughing. Jerry was taking his job as protector a little too seriously. After an extended sweep of the roof to make sure all was clear, Jerry finally motioned to Clivo that it was safe to climb up.
“Thorough, aren’t you?” Clivo whispered as he heaved himself over the ledge.
“Never assume you have the element of surprise,” Jerry replied, helping Clivo over. “Come over here. I found something.”
They walked around the roof, avoiding the sharp horns of the gargoyles. Set in one of the towers was a metal door with a keyhole.
“Do you know how to pick it?” Clivo asked.
“Does an astronaut float?” Jerry replied.
Jerry pulled two paper clips out of his pocket, straightened them out, and began fiddling with the lock. Within seconds, a click was heard and the door swung open, revealing a stone spiral staircase that descended into darkness.
“Nice job,” Clivo whispered.
Jerry blew on his paper clips like a Hollywood gunslinger blows on his trusty Colt revolver and holstered them in his pocket. “My dad has yet to find a lock I can’t pick, and trust me, he’s tried them all.”
Clivo peered through the door. There was no sound coming from the darkness, but there was a very sharp smell. Clivo couldn’t quite place what it was, and he had the strange notion that it didn’t smell like a thing, it smelled like an emotion: fear.
Clivo was about to say something, but Jerry beat him to it. “I’m going down with you, Wren. End of discussion.”
“Will you at least let me go first, since I have the tranquilizer gun?” Clivo asked.
“Just this once, but don’t think it’s going to become a habit,” Jerry replied.
Clivo began to slowly creep down the stairs as a light rain started to fall outside. Jerry quietly closed the door behind them so the pitter-patter of raindrops didn’t echo down the stone stairwell. As they wound their way downward, Clivo could feel Jerry getting closer and closer behind him. He finally stopped and turned around.
“Do you want a piggyback ride or something?” Clivo whispered.
Jerry backed up in embarrassment. “Sorry, I just have an irrational dislike of spiral staircases. They make me dizzy.”
“Okay, put your hand on me if you think you’re going to fall over.”
Jerry put his hand on Clivo’s shoulder and they continued on, the stairs descending farther and farther into an unknown abyss. Clivo was certain that by then, they were deep underground.
After what felt like forever, they finally exited into a large room lit by overhead iron chandeliers that glowed with flickering bulbs made to look like candles. Heavy tapestries covered the high stone walls, and a wide hearth stained with the soot of old fires stood in
a corner. The air felt cold, as if no warmth had ever penetrated the place.
“Wren,” Jerry whispered as audibly as he dared, “there they are.”
Clivo looked to where Jerry was pointing and his heart froze. The other side of the room was filled with cages, all lined up against one another. There were no lights hanging above the steel bars, and at first the cages appeared empty. But as Clivo peered closer, he could see cowering shapes and figures, and the reality of what he was looking at hit him like a brick to the head. The cryptids, at least seventeen of them, were locked in the prison with no food or water in sight. Now Clivo understood what he had smelled—the odor of animals crammed together in their own filth combined with the cold sweat of terror. He tried to identify which cryptid was which, but all he could see were the whites of eyes that stared at him in fear as the creatures tried desperately to squeeze themselves deeper into the corners. These animals were beasts and some were even dangerous, but treating them like this was inhumane. Whoever had put them here was the real animal.
Clivo let out a roar of anguish and ran over, putting his gun on a nearby table without care, and grabbed the bars on one of the cages. He was so angry, he felt like he could snap the bars in half, but the steel was unbending even against his fury. The cryptids cringed in corners and stared at Clivo with human-like sadness. Their fur was disheveled, and in some cases matted with blood.
Clivo spied the Ugly Merman and noticed that its mouth was taped shut, probably so its tongue couldn’t attack. It looked so much thinner than when Clivo had caught it. Next he saw the Elwetritsch, its feathers sagging, its poisonous beak wrapped in gauze. In a smaller cage sat an otter that kept trying to shape-shift into the Otterman, but every time his body shivered and expanded, electricity sparked, shocking the otter into recoiling back into its harmless shape.
“What are they doing to you guys in here?” Clivo moaned. He didn’t know if he was angry, sad, or in shock. How could someone treat these majestic creatures so terribly?
A familiar voice sounded behind him. “I’d be happy to show you.”
Clivo whirled around to find Douglas pointing the tranquilizer gun directly at him. “Douglas!” he said, a growl of anger issuing from his throat—anger at Douglas’s betrayal, and anger at what Douglas was doing to the creatures they were supposed to be protecting. He balled up his fists and, without thinking, ran toward the old man.
