by Amy Hopkins
Penny leaned back and sighed. “I’m just glad we’ll have time. It’s still a couple of weeks until exams start. Surely we won’t get any more missions allocated this semester. It’ll be cruisey until the end.”
A knock on the door interrupted her happy sigh. “Come in?”
Agent Crenel stuck his head through the door. “Good. You’re all here.”
“Why?” The relief Penny had felt mere seconds before evaporated.
“There’s a mission. One you’ll be perfect for.” His eyes locked on Penny as he spoke.
“Me?” she asked. “Why me?”
“Bunyip outbreak.”
“Bunyips?” Penny squeaked. “In America?”
“Nope.” Crenel grinned. “Pack your bags, kid. You’re going home.”
Author Notes - Amy Hopkins
November, 2019
You may have noticed there’s a LOT of history in these books. Tiny glimpses, yes — there is sooo much more to Bacchus than party god and bartender — but I’ve loved digging through old legends, ghost hunting sites, mythology books and spam letters.
Yeah, old Prince and his shifty lawyer are 100% my favourite characters in these books :D And, they spurred the idea for Polybius. I was looking for something a little different from the usual ancient legends. I believe history isn’t just in the past. We create it, every day. Computers and tech are forming a larger part of our culture all the time, and this book celebrates it.
Also, the Stranger Things arcade scenes are wicked as.
And, I know the more off-the-wall my weird ideas are, the higher chance there is of making Michael snort coke all over his computer screen.
I mean, how else do you calculate the success of a series other than ruined keyboards and burning nostrils?
I hope you’re enjoying Penny and Boots, and I REALLY hope you love the next installment. No spoilers, but… we’re going on a trip!
See you then,
Amy
P.S. STILL salty about Diego. I will carry this to my grave.
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
December 16, 2019
First, thank you for not only reading this story, but reading these author notes as well!
I will have to admit that the first time I read a story using Bacchus as a character, he was a disgusting character with no redeeming values and I hated him.
But that was many years and hundreds of books ago. And I am glad Amy decided to flavor the god differently.
I am also glad to see that I can be mature enough to give Bacchus a second chance.
KEYBOARDS AND BURNING NOSTRILS
So, Amy can be blisteringly funny. However to have her admit that she is using this talent for evil is just horrible. Well, it’s horrible if you are the person she is trying to attack. I mean, have you felt Coke coming out of your nostrils?
It stings like a $&@)?!!
Then again, I try to time funny comments when Zen Master Steve™ and I are on a Zoom call and he is taking a sip of his coffee...
I guess turnabout is fair play.
Damn, I can’t drink when reading Amy’s books.
Take care and I look forward to chatting in another book!
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael
Bunyips and Billabongs
Penny and Boots Book 4
Chapter One
“It’s almost time to land, folks. Can I take your glasses?” The flight attendant, Heath, flounced over to Cisco with a gratuitous wink. “How about yours, love?”
Cisco passed Heath his empty cup, laughing. “Does that mean we have to say goodbye?”
“Sure does, hot stuff.” Heath leaned across Cisco to accept the glass Penny offered him with a grin. “Woah, sweetheart. That mojito was a double, right? Don’t you let that go to your head, now.”
Penny smirked. “I can handle my booze.”
“Spoken like a true local.” Heath shrugged, then cleared off the small table in front of Red’s and Amelia’s seats.
The long flight had been made enjoyable not just by Heath, the flamboyant Australian attendant, but by all the creature comforts offered by Mack’s private plane. It was understated but comfortable and had enough room for the six of them to spread out. Not that Boots needed much room. Enamored of Heath and his fawning adoration, she’d spent most of the flight draped over his shoulders like a giant feather boa, just without the feathers.
“Now, remember what I told you about the landing procedure?” Heath asked, hands on his hips. Boots lifted her head off his chest to nod. “We wait for the ground sweepers to get rid of the nasty biteys, then we hightail it outta there like we’re being chased by snakes. Because we will be.”
Cisco gripped Penny’s hand, and she shot him an amused glance. “Not scared, are you?” she asked.
He shook his head but stopped when she caught his eye. “Look, I’m okay with snakes,” he explained. “But…this is Australia, and they’re Mythers.”
“And that’s exactly why it’s an issue,” Heath said with a groan. “Bloody tourists. Snakes this, and spiders that. It’s nothing a solid boot to the head won’t fix!”
“Americans are crazy.” Penny ducked a glare from Amelia. “I mean, come on. I know my country. You’re way more likely to get king-hit by a guy named Dane in a Bintang singlet than bitten by a damn snake.”
“Translation?” Red asked, turning a quizzical face to Heath.
“She means you’re more likely to get punched in the face by an asshole than bitten by a spider.” Heath grinned at Penny. “She’s not wrong.”
A nearby speaker dinged, and the pilot’s voice rang out over the intercom. “Landing in five, guys.”
“Right! Strap in. Or strap on, whatever you prefer.” Heath sauntered to his seat and buckled the belt. “Going down is my favorite part.”
“Where does Mack find these people?” Cisco murmured to Penny as the plane began its descent.
Penny watched out the window as the scattered reptiles on the tarmac below lifted their heads. As the plane touched down, they slithered toward it, moving with eerie speed as they coalesced into a writhing mass. The wheels shuddered over the bumps, and Penny wondered how many Myther snakes they’d just turned into roadkill.
“I like the lad,” Red stated with a grin. The flattery Heath had heaped on the two men certainly hadn’t hurt his case, although Cisco seemed less swayed by it than Red.
Heath slipped into his professional persona. “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Sydney Airport. For your safety and comfort, please remain seated while the runway is cleared. This should only take a few minutes.”
Penny glanced outside again as Heath rattled off the safety instructions. When she had flown out of Australia, the airport had still been struggling with the influx of Myther snakes —byproducts of a worldwide belief that no matter where you stepped in Australia, a giant snake or spider would be ready to eat you whole.
The tightly-held conviction had brought a steady stream of the creatures through the Veil, most of them concentrating in the places terrified tourists congregated: the airports.
Penny was impressed by the efficiency of the ground sweepers—the newly-coined term for those whose job it was to clear the incursion. Several trucks had already rolled toward the plane, and the ground sweepers riding them had their fat hoses directed at the ground. In perfect unison, they blasted the tarmac with jets of water, carefully sweeping the hoses from side to side to wash away the creatures.
The entire operation only took a few minutes. When Heath unclipped his seatbelt and stood, Penny did the same. Boots finally wriggled away from her new friend and slithered back to Penny.
“It’ll take you all day to get her through Customs,” Heath warned. “If you want to skip the mountain of paperwork, you’d better do your thing here.”
&
nbsp; “Oh, right.” Penny slipped a small flask from her pocket and unscrewed the lid. Boots hissed at Heath, then nosed the mouth of the bottle. When Penny gently tipped it so the water met the lip, and Boots flicked her tail and dove in, only to pop out a moment later, having shrunk down to a thin rope the width of Penny’s little finger. The newly tiny Boots lunged up to kiss Heath on the cheek.
“Aww. She’s so precious.” Heath waved at the flask as Boots disappeared back into it. With a regretful sigh, he ushered the others toward the door. “Okay, folks. Your bags will be coming along shortly. For now, it’s a quick disembark and then hustle to the building. You should be safe once you’re inside.”
Red and Amelia shot out and took off running across the tarmac. Cisco gave Penny a pained look.
“Oh, for God’s sake. Go!” She waved him away, then turned to Heath to say goodbye. “Thanks for the fun ride, mate, and tell Mack we owe him for the trip.”
“You’re sure your man doesn’t have a brother?” Heath asked with a sly wink.
“Sorry.” Penny leaned in to give him a spontaneous hug. “Have a safe flight back, mate.”
He returned her embrace with feeling. “You too, babe!”
Heath stepped back, and Penny moved onto the top step. The heat had already begun to filter into the crisp chill of the plane, but standing in the full sun, Penny bore the brunt.
She sucked in a breath. The baking heat gave her a prickle of familiarity, a deep comfort that itched against the knowledge that, though she was about to step foot in her homeland, it wouldn’t be for long. I’m home. She jogged down the steps to catch up with her friends, then slowed. Screw that. It’s too hot to run.
The path to the airport was lined with more ground crew standing several feet apart, each holding an oversized knife pointed toward the writhing, snapping snakes that had already begun to swarm back onto the runway.
“What is that?” Penny asked one of them, noticing that the knives seemed to hold power over the reptiles.
The man she had approached flashed her a brilliant grin. “It’s not just a knife, love.”
The reference hit her instantly. “It’s a knife, right?” She shook her head in disbelief. None of her classes at the Academy had mentioned this little gem of information. “Since when does Croc Dundee ward off snakes?”
The man shrugged. “No idea. But can you get a move along? My arm’s getting tired, and it’s really damn hot out here.”
“Sorry, man.” Penny picked up her pace and hurried inside.
The taxi ride to the hotel was quiet. Penny had adjusted to the heat almost instantly, although her friends weren’t so adaptable. Amelia wilted, despite being in the front with the air con on full. On Penny’s left, Red stuck his head as far out of the window as the driver would let him, mouth open and tongue hanging to his chin like an excited puppy. On her right, Cisco kept pulling his damp shirt off his skin, moaning about the horrible weather.
Despite Penny’s best efforts to strike up a conversation with them, it fell flat. Eventually, she leaned forward to speak to the driver.
“How’s your day been?” she asked.
“Oh, nice enough. Lovely weather. You?” He turned the wheel and cruised around a corner, then reached out to tickle the small monkey on his dash under the chin.
“Nice monkey,” Penny said. It reminded her of Boots, who was still securely hidden in the flask. Penny briefly considered freeing the serpent, then considered what would happen if the monkey took fright in the crowded cab. She won’t mind waiting a little longer. “What’s the little guy’s name?”
The driver shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. He’s one of those, you know, Mythers.”
“Oh?” Penny cocked her head. “I haven’t heard about random monkeys appearing.”
“The depot told us they come under the ‘racial perception’ umbrella.” He sighed. “Apparently, there are people who think Indians all own pet monkeys. I’ve never even been to India!”
The monkey chittered, then pulled a peanut from behind its back and shelled it, tossing the rubbish on the floor. It nibbled the snack, its big, round eyes glued to Penny.
“That’s…” Penny sat back in her seat. “Okay, it’s not quite as weird as the snakes or the knives.”
“Penny, your whole country is weird.” Cisco pulled his shirt away from his damp skin yet again. “Weird, and hot.”
“Like me?” She lifted a sardonic eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that!” Cisco made a half-hearted attempt to duck her swat, but the heat had taken more out of him than she had realized.
“Damn. Do we need to stop and get you guys a cup of concrete?” Penny rolled her eyes when she was met with quizzical looks all around. “Harden up! It’s not even summer, for crying out loud. Look, we’re almost at the hotel. Once we’re there, suck down some hydration, hit the pool, and try not to embarrass me in front of my people.”
“I seem to remember taking you shopping on your first day at the Academy so you could buy a winter coat in the middle of spring,” Amelia pointed out.
“And I appreciated it.” Penny grinned. “So much that I’d hug you if you didn’t look like a wet rag.”
“Ha-ha.” Amelia at least mustered up a smile, one that broadened as the cab turned off the street and into the driveway of a hotel. “Huh. It doesn’t look like a dive.”
“What’s the bet Mack’s paying for this?” Cisco asked. “Either that or Crenel’s stories about the roach motels the FBI puts him in are lies.”
“It’s Crenel,” Penny pointed out. She leaned across to tug the door handle, pushed Cisco out, and then tumbled out herself. She stopped to stretch her numb limbs. “He’d call the Palazzo Versace a roach motel.”
“Fair point.” Cisco handed the driver a credit card. “Does he know we’re here?”
Penny nodded. “I messaged him when I got in the taxi.” She slipped her phone out. “He hasn’t responded, though. Maybe he’s busy?”
The check-in process was fast and easy, although there was a slight hesitation when the desk attendant handed out keys.
“Here’s room nine-nineteen,” she told them, sliding two cards across the desk. “And these two are room nine-twenty.”
Amelia slipped the first card into her pocket and Penny reached for the one beside it, only to bump hands with Red. Penny raised an eyebrow at Amelia.
“What?” Amelia grabbed the card and passed it to her boyfriend. “We’re not on Academy grounds. We’re not even in the same country!”
“I didn’t say a word!” Penny grinned, grabbed the last two cards, and handed one to Cisco.
Chapter Two
Once they had all freshened up, Penny knocked on the door three down from hers. “I wonder why he didn’t just book three rooms in a row?”
Red snorted. “Do you think he wants to hear us humping all night?”
Penny rolled her eyes. “If you keep me up all night with the sound of—”
Cisco cleared his throat and knocked on the door again.
“Coming!” Crenel’s voice was muffled.
The door still didn’t open. Penny heard his shuffling steps, a faucet, then finally, the beep of the hotel door card. Crenel yanked the door open and glared at them with bleary eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Briefing?” Penny sighed. “You didn’t get my text, did you?”
“That was only five…” Crenel glanced at his watch. “Oh. Must’ve nodded off again.” He yawned and stretched. “I’m too old to deal with jetlag.”
Crenel let them wait awkwardly while he washed his face again, then disappeared into his bathroom to change into an only slightly less-rumpled shirt. He emerged, still ignoring them, and grabbed a protein bar out of his bag.
Meanwhile, Boots explored the room, tugging open drawers, disappearing under his bed, and experimentally twisting the taps on the spa bath by the corner window.
“Boots!” Penny hissed as the bath began to fill. “That’s rude!”
> “She’s fine,” Crenel mumbled through a mouthful of his low-carb peanut butter protein bar.
When he was done eating, Agent Crenel tossed a manila folder on the coffee table in front of Penny. The word Confidential was stamped in big red letters across the front.
"This case is a little more complex than what you've dealt with previously. And there's another key difference. This time, we're hunting a human." Crenel slid his cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, and tapped it on the box.
"You know you're not allowed to do that in here," Amelia pointed out. “And a human? That’s not our specialty. Why us?”
"This case is…complicated. Instead of saving humans from Mythers, we’re flipping the script. It’s the Mythers that are in danger if we’re right.” Crenel scowled at Amelia, who was still eyeing his unlit cigarette. “And what are you, my mother?" he snapped.
"No, but your wife is the dean of our school," Amelia retorted. "She told us to keep an eye on you. I'm pretty sure she’ll fail us all this semester if we don't keep you out of trouble."
Crenel grunted. "You're a bunch of kids. It's not your job to keep me out of trouble."
Red pointed at the sprinklers on the ceiling. "Look, Agent Crenel. I just got out of the shower. I don't need another one."
"Besides, it'll make my mascara run." Amelia leaned forward and tugged the cigarette and its box out of Crenel's hands. "Now. You were saying?"
Crenel gave a growl of frustration but let the matter drop. "Our target is a man named Geoffrey Nevins. His family has been linked to several crime syndicates over the years, and he himself has a reputation for importing goods of dubious origins."
He flipped the folder open and quickly rifled through the pages, then slid a page toward them. On it was a photograph of a man with striking blue eyes and short blond hair.
