by Tempe O'Kun
He nodded, then gripped her paw.
The otter’s smile lit the woods. “We totally have proof, though.”
He wagged. “Yep.”
“Thank you.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek.
“For stumbling into danger with you?”
“For staying.” Her shoulders rolled in a shrug. “You didn’t have to.”
The dog stopped, placed his hands on her hips, and kissed her. “Yeah, I did.”
The lutrine wriggled with glee, still holding the dripping alien spire.
He tried to ignore the last time he’d seen her wiggle that much against him. At least until they got back to the house. He slung an arm around her. “C’mon, rudderbutt. We’d better go wash up and stash the evidence somewhere safe.” His head tilted, eyes shifting her way. “We’re telling your mom, right?”
“She never saw the journals as anything but a way to make something useful outta our family’s mental illness.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Might take some convincing.” Her paws patted the light-pulsing bone device. “Too bad she’s at that sci-fi con or we could start that awkward conversation now.”
He glanced to the spire. “In the meantime, it’ll make a charming den lamp.”
She laughed, a beautiful noise that ran down his soul like a creek over stones.
The canine found himself staring at her. From somewhere deep in his chest, a smile rose to his muzzle.
The light in her eyes caught his.
Happy to be alive, happy to be together, they tromped further into the forest. Though other monsters could be hiding behind every tree, Max contented himself in the fact that he at least wasn’t in this alone.
— Chapter 17 —
Loose Ends
Pulses of sickly yellow light emanated from the guest bedroom closet. The alien pillar twitched a nerve ending now and then, but remained otherwise inert. The nerves on the bottom had stopped leaking, too, and the jagged edge she’d left cutting it free had long since healed. The pale glow grasped out at the otter and husky sitting across the room.
Seated on his bed, Kylie looked up from the journals on her phone. “Ya think that thing’s radioactive?”
Max thought for a moment, then got up and shut the closet door.
A look of incredulity colored her sleek features.
“We did carry it all the way from the mine and we’re not dead.” Beside her on the mattress, he picked up one of the old journals. “Maybe we can buy a Geiger counter in town.”
“Windfall would be the town…” She flicked to another page on her mobile. “I put the scans on your phone. You don’t have to read those physical copies.”
He looked the book over and shrugged. A soft wag breezed over the sheets. “As long as we’re not in town, the accomplice won’t see.”
“So…” She blew a lock of hair from her face. “The monster’s dead.”
The canine scratched his whiskers and looked up at her. “The big one is dead. We still know very little about the skitters.”
She waved the thought away. “We should show that pillar to the police or maybe some reporters. Authorities of some sort.”
“We can start with your mother when she gets back on Tuesday.” He flipped open the journal. “This does concern her.”
The lutrine sighed. “Can’t we do something less awkward? Like hold an international press conference?”
A shadow of worry flickered over his mind. He set a paw on her knee. “If we do, the monster’s buddy may come knocking.”
“What about that weird schnauzer with the curio shop?” Her webbed toes flexed against the carpet. “He knew a lot about my family, and he’s the only one in town to really get involved. Think he might be the one?”
“He sold you the journal.” The husky waggled the slim volume. “Don’t know why the monster’s accomplice would help us find it.” He shrugged. “Would’ve been much easier to help the creature find us.”
The otter swept the journal from her phone’s display. “I’m texting Shane; maybe he knows something about the place Leister burned down.” Her webbed fingers tapped over the glass surface. “We should dig the lair back up too and look for clues.”
The dog smirked and turned a page. “I forgot my tractor at home.”
Her phone buzzed. “Shane says he used to walk by the burnt-out house on the way to school. People claimed it was haunted until the new owner tore it down.”
“Hmm.” Thoughts worked through the gears of Max’s mind. His head tilted as he stared into space. Unfortunately, that space held Kylie’s rump, so his thoughts kept going astray.
The otter noticed him staring, oozed around so her gaze met his, and lay with her creamy stomach exposed from under her t-shirt. “Something on your mind?”
The canine blushed and blinked back to attention. “Ask him about your curio shop friend.”
Silence swept the room, then another message buzzed in. Her hazel eyes skimmed the text. “He also says that schnauzer’s lived above his store since before the fire.”
Max plunked a search into his laptop’s keyboard. “The guy in the house was a recluse. Porcupine.”
She rolled her eyes. “So much for the schnauzer.”
Gaze back on the screen, the husky winced. “Police never found his body after the fire.”
“Holy mackerel!” Kylie’s whiskers quirked in horror. “My great-uncle killed the guy?”
“Maybe.” He squinted at the screen. “Only reference is this newspaper article from twenty-five years ago. The guy was rumored to have inherited the haul from a mine. Sold chunks of silver now and then to keep afloat.”
“Almost like he had a monster mining for him.”
“Yeah…” The dog’s ears dropped as he performed the mental math. “Even if he survived the fire, the journals references go back fifty years before, with him mentioned as an adult. If he was only our age then, he would’ve been at in his seventies when the house burned down and almost a hundred now.”
A confident nod dipped her round little muzzle, then smacked her fist into a webbed paw. “We can probably take him in a fight.”
He smirked at her spirit. “On the other hand, a hundred year old wouldn’t be much help as an accomplice.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “You think the monster posted a job offer for a replacement?”
“The porcupine could’ve.” The canine’s claws tapped on another of the journals. “Leister’s journal never mentioned an accomplice to the accomplice.”
Her fingers steepled and tapped her lips in thought. “I wonder how the porcupine got the job in the first place.”
His brow furrowed. “Maybe there’s something we missed.”
“Yeah.” She returned to her scanned copies. “I guess it can’t hurt to know as much as possible before we break this story to the world.”
A cloudburst tapped against the windows. Outside, thick billows floated in a blue sky, drizzling over the canopy of trees. The forest colors deepened, half-lit.
Max read on. Another diary speculated that no storm could level a mountainside like that Windfall had been; it speculated someone had been mining already and that their powder house had gone up. Notes in a different hand countered that this scenario would take far more explosives than any miner would keep on hand. The husky cleared his throat. “Hey rudderbutt…” He patted her rump. “…if you ever make footnotes in these, please initial them.”
The lutrine chittered a chuckle. “I use sticky notes.”
“Right.” He glanced to the colorful bits of paper poking from some of the journals. “Still, it would help if we could sort out whose handwriting is whose.”
“Ugh.” She tossed her phone onto a pillow. “I’m learning my family being right doesn’t mean they weren’t also crazy. This one goes on for like eight pages about how the Universe is big and he is small.”
The dog cocked an ear, then rubbed a paw around her midriff. “Maybe your ancestors weren’t as used to being the smallest as you are
.”
She wriggled up into his hand, her fur silk under his paw pads. “Shut up, Maxie.” Her webbed finger poked his flank. “I’ve seen Cosmos. This isn’t news to me.”
“This journal was written in what?” He checked the top of the page. “1925? Yeah, the bigness of the Universe was news then.”
She threw an arm over her eyes. “Bleh.”
He sniffed at her. “Break?”
The last of her will escaped in a small sigh. “Yeah…”
He smirked. “Know what we haven’t done in the week we’ve been dating?” His paw slid up her torso, drifting under her shirt.
The lutrine caressed his thigh and flashed a coy smile up at him. “What?”
“Dated.”
Realization blinked across her face. “Huh… I guess you’re right.”
A smirk quirked his muzzle. “Unless monster-hunting counts as a date.”
The otter couldn’t suppress a smile of her own. “In my family, it might…”
He stood and offered his hand. “I’ll treat you to the best Windfall has to offer.”
She took it with a roll of her eyes. “It’s called Pinchy’s and we go there all the time.”
His ears lifted. “Is that a no?”
“Of course not! I love Pinchy’s.” She curled around him to get to the door, every inch of her supple body sliding around his. “C’mon, you can buy me a clam platter.”
Together they padded down the game trails to town, mindful of the rain-damp earth. Every wet branch slipped its damp leaves over Kylie in a refreshing caress. Behind her, Max’s pelt soaked up every drop of water in a three-foot radius and he kept having to stop to brush the worst of it off. She waited for him, considering not for the first time how ill-suited a husky was to this environment. Now that they’d accidentally avenged her family, would Max succumb to pack pressure and go farm corn or whatever?
On cue, he patted a waterlogged paw on her shoulder, which chased off her doubts for the moment.
She touched his hand, then brought it down to be held. Because of their difference in height, she had to get the right angle in their hand-holding or feel like she was being led into a fancy ball. “I kind of feel stupid now for waiting and worrying, knowing you would’ve dated me whenever.”
He thought for a moment. “You know how you can have a favorite song for years without really thinking about the lyrics?”
“Yeah?”
“Then they just sort of click in your mind and you like it in a whole new way?” He squeezed her paw with a shine in those sky blue eyes. “That’s how I feel about you.”
A wiggle of glee translated up her body. Unable to think of a response sweet enough, she dragged him down for a quick smooch. The swish of his tail scattered rain from leaves and told her he understood.
At Pinchy’s, she drowned her trouble further in a sea of fish, then sat watching the sun set over the ocean in a slow, autumn shimmer. Eventually, Max convinced her to take him for a walk. He paid the bill and they started for the door. A few booths down, the beaver handyman picked his way through the spicy tuna, grimacing when he got a hot bite.
“It’s funny living in a town this small.” She took the dog’s hand as they stepped out into the rain-shined street. “Shane says he’s lived in the same neighborhood as our contractor since he was a kid.”
The husky nodded. His paws slid across the cool table to curl with hers. Tough paw pads brushed over her supple webbing. Their glances met just long enough to exchange a smile before a clamor at the door interrupted.
A giddy rhino trotted up to them through a cluster of tourists, excusing himself as he bumped their souvenir bags. “Hi guys!” His shirt depicted anime versions of the cast.
Kylie groaned. “Karl, your torso does weird things to my face.” Her paws set on her hips. “We talked about this.”
“This is a new shirt. The rule shouldn’t apply. Besides, this isn’t you! It’s Kasi-san, right? No? No? Okay.” He rubbed his gut, self-conscious. “Hey, would you guys wanna be on my Strangeville fan podcast? We’re talking about what forms a revival of the series could take and—”
“Hey…” Max cocked an ear. “Record this.”
The rhino fumbled his phone to record mode.
With a smirk, the husky put on a thin Russian accent. “Previously, on Strange Times…”
Karl tittered in glee, then stopped recording. “Don’t worry, I can edit out my laughter and stuff. This’ll be great.”
Max crossed his arms with a smirk. “But seriously, we haven’t heard anything about the series being revived.”
“Is there anything new about merchandising you can tell me?”
A drip of water fell on her ear, which she twitched off. “Karl, anything I tell you’d just end up on the Internet again.”
“Well, yes.” His tiny tail swished, smacking the building next to them. “That’s how the world advances.”
The otter groaned.
The rhino’s massive hands wrung. “Aw come on, I bet you guys have all sorts of inside info. We talk about this stuff all the time on my podcast.”
She grumbled. “Karl.”
“I say mine, but it’s actually a collaboration—”
She glared. “Karl?”
The rhino tapped his massive fingers together and babbled on. “We’ve interviewed a special effects guy, but nobody who’d—”
Max got a sly smirk. “Season Three was a dream.”
“Really?!” A gasp shook the rhino. He stood in stunned silence for a moment, ears flicking as thoughts rushed through his brain. “Oh my gosh, that makes total sense!”
“Not really. Just a personal theory.” The canine woofed a chuckle. “But calm down; I’ll be on your podcast.”
“Seriously?” Karl bounced, shaking the pavement a little.
“Seriously?” Kylie’s whiskers and shoulders drooped.
“Sure.” The canine spread his hands. “Why not?”
The rhino pulled out his phone again and began tapping with frantic delight.
Her gaze locked on him. “What’re you doing?”
“Telling the Internet I landed you as a guest.” The rhino’s dark eyes remained fixed on the tiny screen. “This is gonna be awesome!”
“Ugh.” Kylie took her boyfriend by the arm and led him away. They walked on, leaving Karl to the fan forums.
The young rhino seemed not to notice.
Max just grinned.
The otter scowled. “Season Three was a dream, huh?”
The canine nodded. “Total conjecture, but it fits the lore.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
An amused shrug rolled his wide shoulders. “What? I like the show.”
“I’ve been avoiding that podcast for months.” Orbiting in a supple circle, she chittered at him. “Now you’re encouraging him!”
“I like him.” Max wagged.
With a squawk, she bounced in protest. “You like anyone who’s not scared by your hugeness.”
“That’s possible. I like you…” He scooped her up in a hug and kept walking, letting her legs and tail dangle over the sidewalk. His muzzle brushed her ear. “…and I seem to remember you enjoying my hugeness.”
Her whiskers sprung out in scandal. She oozed over his hands and rolled like a wave back to her feet. “That’s different! The rhino’s completely nuts.”
“So?”
“Okay, so that didn’t stop you from liking me.” Her arms crossed over her breasts. “But my point stands.”
“Let the guy be excited.” He rubbed her shoulders. “Strangeville to him is like fish to you.”
“What, nourishing, but leaves you wanting more?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not a fair comparison.” The otter waddled on with emphatic gestures. “I’m supposed to like fish—I’m an otter!”
“And he’s a fan. Just let him do his thing.”
The lutrine grumbled as they headed down the street.
Standin
g in the living room, Max took a deep breath, steeled his resolve, and gave his ears a resolute perk. Then he drew the phone from his pocket and dialed. Two rings, then a click as she picked up. He cleared his throat.
“Hey little bro.” His sister answered. “How’s life in otter space?”
“Hey Aggie.” His middle sister usually stood up for him, but she still took him by the scruff now and then. And her tone of voice certainly pointed in that direction. “Doing fine.”
She practically panted with anticipation. “Let me guess: you’re not coming home because you’re dating that otter girl you like so much.”
He sighed. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“Who made the first move?”
A moment of hesitation crawled by, but brought no good way to evade the question. “She did.”
“Ha!” She woofed with triumph. “Called it.”
“Are you betting on my happiness?”
“Would you rather I bet against it?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he groaned. “Just put Mom on the line.”
She chuckled. “Good luck, runt.”
He rolled his eyes; he’d been taller than Agatha since he was a fifth grader. Hearing her call for his mom, he braced himself. It would’ve been one thing if he’d gone to college on the East Coast, but this was just to shack up to with a girl. Well, and to hunt monsters, but he couldn’t tell her that part.
The phone clattered as it was handed off. “Hello?”
He forced himself to smile. “Hey Mom.”
“Well, if it isn’t Traveling Max.” The whistle of the pressure gauge signaled canning in progress. “Been missing you around here.”
He smiled a little. “Miss you guys too.”
Another moment crept past. In the background, canning lids popped with a metallic ping as they cooled. “I take it you’re calling to say you’re still not coming back.”
“Not right away.” He paced the carpet, phone cradled against his ear.
“Thought you were just going to visit. Go scent-smelling and all that.” She adjusted something with a grunt. “Now, you’re staying there.”
“Yeah, the plan changed.” He rubbed the nape of his neck. “You know I want to spend time with the family. But Kylie and I, we just started dating and I don’t want to move back across the country so soon. Is that Aggie in the background? Tell her to shut up, I can hear her snickering.”
