by Mirren Hogan
CHAPTER 3
When Makani had nightmares, they were made of stuff straight out of Japanese horror movies. Visions of wings and leathery skin, faceless people and small biting creatures filled her visions as she whimpered quietly in her sleep. All of these things were controlled by one person: a woman. Someone she’d seen before; a face that never quite registered. A white dog sat at her feet and it growled and snapped, hungry for flesh and nightmares. The creatures danced to the beat of the woman’s drum, but there was no drum. Instead, the woman watched Makani and laughed. Laughed, and laughed and laughed . . .
The next thing Makani’s mind registered was the warm body tucked against her. Flynn, she thought with relief. The next thing she felt was how cold she was where his body didn’t touch hers. Slowly, her eyes opened and she saw the sun had started to set on her little house in the valley. She snuggled closer to Flynn for comfort and sighed contentedly. Perhaps they would just sleep through the rest of the night. Without nightmares, this time?
Flynn stirred. “You awake?” he whispered. “I’m sorry, but I need to get up and pee.” Tangled as they were on the couch, neither could move much without disturbing the other.
She sat up reluctantly, shaking her hair out with one hand. “Need someone to hold it for you?” Makani gave him a goofy grin as she leaned over to the far side to give him room to move.
“I think I can manage.” He chuckled. “You can hold it later, maybe in the shower.” He slipped off in the direction of the toilet. Silence fell until the faucet turned on and off as he washed his hands. His footsteps sounded, softly, as he walked back.
“Shit, not again!” he exclaimed. “Makani, we have company.”
It didn’t sound like the good kind.
“Oh, no . . . ” She shot up and leapt over the back of the couch to where Flynn stood. Through the window of her bedroom, the view was blotted out by a leathery wing. It moved away, and a reptilian head with its skull hollowed out at the top appeared next. “I shouldn’t sleep. Ever!”
“Why? Never mind. What the bloody hell is that? Just when I think we won’t have to deal with anything worse—”
She was shivering in naked terror as she stepped back toward him and grabbed his hand. “I think—everything found us. All of it. The dozen manananggal left over, the kappa had a family, I guess—” She peered back at the window and a faceless woman peered back before moving along, “—and Mujina.”
“Shit! We can’t set them all on fire. Maybe we could lead them somewhere—” As he spoke, a grotesque bipedal lizard, a kappa, turned and ripped the head off a manananggal. What passed for a mouth crunched down onto greasy hair and bone. “Or we could wait for them to kill each other.”
She swallowed hard and cuddled back into Flynn’s arms. “That’s what I did last time. But . . . my house! They’re all over!” Makani was close to tears as she listened to things slithering over her roof and down the walls. “We can’t just sit here, they’ll destroy my grandmother’s house!”
“Better the house than us.” His arm slid around her. “We could try to run and hope they don’t notice?”
“I guess . . . that might be the only option.” Makani pulled away and looked around. “We’re safe in here. The salt is keeping everything at bay. But . . . do any of the neighbors know what’s going on?”
“Maybe they just think you’re having a strange party—” His words were cut off by a high-pitched scream. “Or not.”
“Okay . . . ” Makani took a deep breath. “We’re gonna go . . . after I pee. And grab the Aquanet.” She padded as silently as she could, tempted to leave the door open.
“Right.” He stayed by the door, his back to her, obviously tense by the way he stood, his body rigid. “Don’t forget the Zippo.”
“Yeah!” She grabbed the Aquanet and any other aerosol cans she could find. Checking in the medicine cabinet, she found another lighter left over from the days where she would smoke marijuana in the backyard with Charlie Fong. “Thank you for never throwing anything away, Grandma!” Makani made it out of the bathroom and handed Flynn a lighter and a can of bathroom spray. “Clean linen scented fireballs?”
“Lovely dahling,” he drawled, taking both from her. “Those monsters will smell divine, just before they explode like overstuffed sausages.” His smile was savage by the time he finished speaking.
“Give a man a flamethrower, and he becomes Rambo.” But Makani smiled, secretly pleased at the change. She’d been sure there was a tough guy somewhere under the Australian accent and Vegemite. She grabbed the essentials—keys, phone and wallet, and slipped her feet into her hiking boots. “Ready to run?”
“I am if you are.” He patted his pockets. “Phone and wallet, check. Okay, let’s do it. After we run.” He gave her a cheeky grin.
“Terror is an aphrodisiac where you come from?” But Makani couldn’t help the smile that started to creep onto her lips. Hand on the door knob, she turned it slowly before flinging it open, kicking the screen door. It sent a kappa flying into the yard and startled a legless manananggal from its perch. “Go go go! Run!”
They ran. Across the yard toward the jeep.
“Sonofabitch!” She lit up the wings of a creature as it dove for her head, ducking as it skidded across the yard and into the bathtub, sending cats running in every direction. Makani made it ten steps before a kappa latched on, trying to crawl up her leg. “Flynn! Start the engine!” Fumbling with the spray can, she set the lizard monster on fire, but burned her leg in the process. She kicked the charred and flaming thing away, and started limping to the jeep. “Yellow to yellow! Come on!”
Flynn cursed and jumped into the driver’s side.
“Shit, look out!” he warned.
She leapt into the back of the jeep and pulled the door shut just before a kappa slammed into it.
A few moments later, the engine roared to life. Flynn reversed the jeep over a stunned kappa before gunning the engine and flying down the road, almost hitting one of Makani’s stray cats.
She looked back over her shoulder to her home. The roof was cleared of monsters and the ground dwellers were moving back into the shadows. What scared Makani most, though, was the old woman on the sidewalk, shambling down the road. Makani shook the shivers off and tried to place where she’d seen her before.
“Owww . . . ” she moaned from the back, before crawling up into the passenger’s seat. “Hey . . . you’re driving my car!” She panted as she kicked off her boot to survey the damage. Perhaps a second-degree burn in some spots, but mostly just singed skin. That didn’t stop her from hissing in pain.
“If you can take over the wheel while we’re moving, go for it,” he said. “You okay? Do we need to see a doctor?”
“No . . . just a few Band-Aids and Neosporin . . . ” She winced as she pulled the seatbelt on. “I guess I can let you drive. Just this once.” She leaned her head back and wished the searing heat would go away. “Where do we go now?”
“I have no idea. Are you hungry?” They were heading in more or less a straight line, going nowhere in particular.
“Probably.” Her stomach rumbled at the idea of food. “Whadda ya want? As long as it’s not barbecue!”
“I don’t care. Do you want to give me directions to somewhere? Somewhere close, I don’t have a license to drive in this country and I don’t want to spend another night with Tony!”
“All the cops had better be out looking for your sister.” She snorted and looked around. “Head south. We’ll do Kenny’s, and then I can get something to cover this up—it’s pretty ugly.” Blood had started oozing from several spots, and she was concerned about the black bits along the edges.
“No, let’s do that the other way around. Where’s a hospital from here?” His tone was firm. He was going to look after her first. It went against the grain to have someone do that for her.
“No, it’s fine,” she argued. “It just needs some Neosporin. And ocean water.” The blood actually hit the floor mat, and she paled. “Fine,
turn left and head toward the city. There’s an urgent care clinic.”
“Okay, just don’t pass out on me.”
“Please, you drive like a girl.”
Flynn turned the jeep and went a bit faster, dodging traffic until they pulled up in front of the clinic.
Makani swung her legs out, grabbing her shoe from the floor and sliding down. That was a bad idea, because her knees nearly buckled under her when a flash of pain shot up her leg.
“Uh-huh. And you’re as stubborn as a man.” He’d walked around the car and slid an arm around her shoulders. “I should throw you over my shoulder and carry you.”
“Oh, please don’t!” She hoped he wouldn’t dare to try that stunt, ever.
They checked in with the receptionist and sat down with a clipboard. Makani started filling
everything out. “I hate telling people my real name is Ruth-Ann.”
Flynn laughed. “It can’t be worse that everyone you meet saying ‘Flynn? Like Errol Flynn?’ and then laughing, as if they’re the first who have ever said it.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I suppose I could have been called Albert.”
“Then you would have been teased for having an old man’s name. ‘Ruth? My grandma’s name is Ruth!’ I got that one a lot!” She looked up from the forms. “I like Flynn. It’s retro but not over-done.”
“My grandma’s name isn’t Ruth, you’ll be glad to know. One was Gladys, the other was Merle. Ruth is better.”
“You’re only saying that because I let you drive the jeep.” She laughed a little and clicked the pen nib back in place. “I hope those things really went away—if they do anything to my grandma’s house, I swear, I will hunt every last thing down and strangle them to death.”
“Leave a couple for me to blow up.” Flynn nodded toward a person in a medical uniform who was walking toward them. “I think it’s your turn.”
“Mmm . . . wanna hold my hand while I scream in pain?” She gave Flynn her best puppy-dog eyes as she stood up, her boot in one hand, the clipboard in the other. “Actually, you probably don’t want to watch what they’re gonna do.”
“I’ll hold your hand, but I’ll bet you dinner that you won’t scream.” He stood and walked beside her. “I might though,” he added.
All things considered, it wasn’t so bad. A few shots of Novocaine, some peeling, some scraping and cutting off the crispy edges. It was like doctoring the Thanksgiving turkey so it didn’t look burnt. Her calf was finally wrapped and settled, and Makani managed to go through the whole process without screaming. Flynn’s hand would probably need a few shots of anesthetic, though.
“Sorry, it was kind of sore when they started scraping off the dead skin,” she said as they walked out the sliding doors.
He shook his hand. “It’s fine, I don’t need my hand for anything important. Can you drive with those drugs in your system?”
“Yeah! It’s just really strong Tylenol and some Novocaine. Doesn’t do anything, just makes it hard to push the gas pedal.” She limped a little, shaking her foot to try and wake it up. “I might actually drive the speed limit!”
He barked a laugh. “Yeah right, that’ll happen.” He followed her out the door humming the tune to “She Drives Me Crazy.”
“I can drive! You’re not dead yet, are you?” That was probably a poor word choice. “That came out wrong.” She hissed as she slid into the driver’s side and started the beast. “My driving won’t be what kills you, my ridiculous monsters will.” The last part came out as a whisper.
“No.” His seatbelt clicked in. “We’re going to die in bed, of old age. Now where are you taking me for dinner? Or should we get takeaway and go to my place?”
“I say—” She thought for a moment, checking her gas pedal. “We get take out. Wanna eat Chinese? Cat-free dim sum and char siu fried rice?” The munchies were starting to kick in. Breakfast seemed ages ago.
“And no added MSG or D-O-G? That sounds good. Do you really get Chinese into those cardboard boxes like on TV? In Australia, we get them in plastic containers. They’re really useful if you wash them out. My dad uses them to keep his bait in.”
“Most places I go to still use the boxes. It’s better for the environment. And hipsters think it’s trendy.” She sped down the streets and headed into Chinatown. Most places closed earlier there, since it was part of the business district. But one little restaurant still had its lights on: Little Village Noodle Shop.
“Szechuan cooking at its best. Promise!” Makani limped out of the jeep and into the brightly lit restaurant. No cheesy decor or bad clichés to be seen. Just an arowana swimming lazily in a tank by the register, clean tables and floors and no one speaking a word of English.
Flynn sniffed all the way through the door. “It smells like the time I went to Hong Kong. I was about fifteen. We liked to eat where the locals ate.”
“I’m sure . . . did you get worms before, or after you left?” She smiled at the old lady manning the counter. “Hi! I want . . . two orders of pork shumai, two orders of shrimp and snow peas, one char siu fried rice, one chow funn, one bird’s nest soup—and what do you want?” Makani looked up at Flynn.
“That’s all yours?”
“Fine, two orders of fried rice.” She handed over her credit card and watched the arowana swim, chomping down on hapless feeder fish. “Hopefully, I won’t want dessert.”
“Hopefully you will,” he replied, grinning.
She blinked twice, and grabbed the old lady’s arm. “No onions in the shrimp and peas, please.”
“Onions?” Flynn asked.
“Yeah . . . I’m not kissing you with onion breath.” She planted a peck on his cheek, and leaned back against the window. Looking outside, she saw an old woman with stringy hair. Their eyes met for a second, but Makani looked away. Something about her was so familiar. “Flynn . . . wasn’t that lady outside my place earlier?”
He frowned. “Manananggal, kappa . . . ” he muttered. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really looking at anything but them and you. But it’s not a huge island, you’re bound to bump into the same people.” He didn’t sound certain.
“I guess . . . ” She looked back outside, but there was no one there. Shrugging her shoulders, Makani put the thought out of her head. No use in looking for trouble, when it seemed to find you.
The food came quickly, and Makani grabbed up the box, passing it to Flynn when they got to the jeep. “I guess we’re going to your place? Seeing as mine is occupied,” she ground out.
“My place,” he agreed. “Let’s see how long it takes for them to find us there.”
“At least long enough for me to finish the fried rice!” She punched the jeep into reverse and nearly ran over a cat. “Hey, look—someone’s missing dinner.” Makani was feeling a little better, now that her leg wasn’t burning. Well enough to eat, at least.
He laughed. “I hope it doesn’t follow us. It might end up a monster snack. Although I’d prefer it to be dinner than us.”
“That’s for sure!” She snorted. “I just want one night of peace and quiet with you. Is that too much to ask for?”
He hesitated. “Sorry, I was just waiting for something to go horribly wrong after you said that.” He glanced around. “Nope, I can’t even see anything chasing us.”
Yet.
Makani rolled her eyes, but a grin crossed her face. “Next time you roll into town, I’ll take you on the grand tour at a discount. Considering all the trouble I’ve put you through, y’know?”
“I didn’t know I was leaving.” He rolled his window down with the rusty handle, the breeze ruffling Makani’s hair.
“You’re going to have to go, eventually . . . unless you can give me a really good reason to harbor you from INS. I’m sure you can come up with something, though.” Her eyes slid to Flynn as she gave him a secret smile.
“Let’s cross this bridge before we worry about that one.” He smiled back, a bit more somber. “By then it’ll be safe to hide in the kars
t.”
“Oh, trust me; that’s one place I’m not going to voluntarily explore ever again! I’d rather hide you in my bed. No one else goes there but me.”
“That’s probably the first place your cousin would look, but it’s more comfy than a dank, dark cave.”
That made Makani laugh. “Asa knows better than to come into my room. There was that time when we were kids. He barged in to tear down my Barbie Dream House, and ended up a guest at a tea party with a pretty hat and scarf.”
They made it to Flynn’s place, with the sun completely set in the west. Makani leaned back and grabbed her pack where she’d stashed it. She went to the passenger’s side and grabbed the box of takeout from him, limping along to the front door.
“Do you know a guy who can fix that door?” He looked at the side of the jeep and clicked his tongue. “Maybe before we go and look for Emma and the terrors. And Jason,” he added, as what seemed to be an afterthought.
He grabbed his keys out of his pocket and tripped over something in the driveway.
Makani nearly ran into him. “Whoa! Dude, the brakes aren’t working too well, right . . . the hell?” Laying on the step was a dead puppy. Parts looked chewed, while others looked desiccated and sunken. To the casual observer, it might have been run over. But for Makani and Flynn, this was something else. “I think our fan club is telling us they know where to find us.”
“Great,” he said sarcastically, “I finally get a fan club and it does stuff like this.” He handed her the keys. “Here, go in. I’ll get rid of this. Poor little guy.”
“Are you sure?” Her stomach flip-flopped, and she decided that it was probably in everyone’s best interest if she got things settled and didn’t look at the dead animal on the step.
“Yeah, yeah. Go and start on the fried rice. Just bring the Zippo and the spray can if I scream.” His wan smile was visible in the darkness.
“Because food is a good idea when there’s a dead carcass outside—” She flipped the lights on and started setting the food on the table. Turning the TV on to the news, Makani found herself staring at the faces of the murdered people Asa had shown her. The media had decided it was a rash of serial murders. Good thing she knew better.
