by Peter Nelson
“¡ATENCIÓN! ¡ATENCIÓN!” The booming officer’s voice came rising over the railing. Abbie gestured for the creatures to stay back. She, Buck, Harvey, and the Grimsleys walked to the edge and looked down. The crowd and the news crews had been pushed back, and a line of police cars surrounded the ship. The Mexican authorities stood in a line, with one holding up a megaphone.
“Hey!” Buck yelled down. “That’s my megaphone! Not cool, amigo!”
“Okay, señor! I’ll speak en ingles! Send the monsters down with their hands—or paws, or fins, or claws, or whatever—in the air!”
“You got it!” Buck winked at the others. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. This is a classic negotiation technique. You give up something, but you ask for something in return. Observe.” He studied the buffet table, then turned back to the railing. “We’re sending you down the little squishy guy under one condition: send up more breakfast sausages!”
Abbie pushed Buck away. “You’re a moron.” Then she hollered down, “Excuse me! I know a lot of you were scared before, but there’s nothing to fear. These creatures are peaceful, and they only want to be your friends! If we come down, can you all please be nice and not totally freak out?”
The officer turned to the crowd behind them. They shrugged and nodded. He turned back. “¡Sí! ¡No problema!”
“That was easy,” Francine said. “Welp, let’s head down and meet some folks!”
“Hold up,” Abbie said. “Clarissa, Bernard, would you come here, please?” Abbie gestured to Bernard. He understood completely. The Skunk Ape lifted Clarissa over his head, exposing her to the crowd below. She enthusiastically waved a giant claw to them. The crowd burst into a state of sheer panic. They screamed. And cried. A few more leaped into the water.
“This isn’t going to work,” Harvey said. “What were we thinking?”
“It’s true,” Sandy said. “Those humans won’t accept us. They’re too jumpy.”
“I’ll say,” Francine said. “Even George Grimsley’s son couldn’t stick with us. And he seemed really nice. I liked that bloke.”
“What?” Abbie whirled around. She looked over the edge. Her father was marching down the gangplank, straight toward the police and the frenzied crowd.
31
Abbie ran out onto el Terminal Remota to find her father standing on top of one of the Mexican police officers’ cars, fiddling with Buck’s megaphone.
“Dad, get down from there! What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like? I’m trying to turn this durned thing on!”
Buck yelled down from the top deck. “It’s the red button, Mr. G!”
“Ah, yes,” Abbie’s father said. “That makes sense.”
The main officer glared up at him. “¡Señor! I must ask you to—”
SQUEEEEEEEEEE! The megaphone let out a burst of feedback, unsettling the already unsettled crowd and causing the police to duck and cover their ears.
Mr. Grimsley turned his amplified voice on the crowd. “Listen to me, all you people! Not too long ago, I was just like you—I thought those creatures up there on that ship were monsters—ferocious beasts who wanted to chomp my face and do other bad stuff to me! But my daughter here—” He looked down at Abbie and held out his hand. “Come up here, Abbie; let the people see you. C’mon!”
“This is so embarrassing.” Abbie climbed onto the car and stood next to her father. “Okay, I’m here. Now would you please stop—”
SQUEEEEEEEEEE! Mr. Grimsley let out another burst of feedback, cutting her off, seemingly to Abbie, on purpose.
“This is the granddaughter of the late, great George Grimsley, the world’s foremost and widely misunderstood cryptozoologist, founder of the Creature Keepers. He was also my dad. But not a very good one. Although I see now that maybe that was a two-way street. Life is funny that way—”
“Get back to the point!” one person in the crowd yelled.
“Yeah, you’re really drifting off topic!” hollered another.
“More about the monsters!” a third shouted.
“Dad, stop this,” Abbie said. “It’s not working. They’ll never understand.”
Ignoring her, Mr. Grimsley continued. “My daughter is not crazy! And neither was her grandfather! We all need to believe in them both! If she says these creatures want only to be friends with us, I believe her! Who’s with me?”
There were some murmurings in the crowd. The reporters all had their cameras trained on them. People were actually doing something Abbie had spent much of her life making a point of not doing: they were actually listening to her father.
Mr. Grimsley sensed it, too, and kicked it up a notch. “That’s right, people! There’s nothing to fear! Cryptids aren’t evil! They’re good!”
“Uh, Dad . . .”
Mr. Grimsley waved her off. He was clearly on a roll. “I can’t stress enough how every single cryptid has nothing but goodness and joy and love in their heart!”
Abbie interjected again. “Dad, I never said every single one. . . .”
He put his arm around and held her closely as he went for the big finish. “In fact, we give you our Grimsley Family word that no cryptid would ever do anything to harm, endanger, or otherwise destroy any of you, ever!”
Cheers went up from the crowd. Mr. Grimsley was beaming. Abbie leaned in toward his ear. “Uh, Dad, I probably should’ve told you—there is this one cryptid who’s not very nice—”
“There’s a what, now, sweetie?”
WHOOSH! A fiery red streak suddenly burst overhead across the clear, blue sky. The crowd’s cheers turned to screams of panic again.
“It is the return of the Chicxulub!” someone hollered.
“Run for your lives!” screamed someone else.
The crowd and the police scattered down the pier, away from the incoming comet. Only Abbie and her father stood their ground as the fireball smashed into the docking area of el Terminal Remota with a sharp explosion. The live fireball shed sparks and embers as it bounced down the concrete section of the pier toward the fleeing crowd.
Although helpless to do anything to stop it, Abbie and her father chased after the projectile, hoping it wouldn’t engulf the panicked people. The flaming ball slowed to a stop halfway between the Mayan Princess and the old wooden platform that served as the Face Chompers’ hideout.
When they realized they were no longer being chased by a fireball, the tourists, locals, authorities, and news reporters all stopped running. Some turned back and approached as the flame subsided. The smoke cleared and the ash settled. A figure stood before them. Abbie’s eyes grew wide, and she felt her heart sink.
It can’t be, she thought.
Chupacabra’s Hydro-Hide, single Soil-Sole, and half a Blizzard-Bristle moustache had been untouched by his blazing entrance. He looked down and opened his claws. Two grayish red stones fell onto the pier with a pair of dull thuds. He let out a loud cackle that sent a shiver down Abbie’s spine.
Mr. Grimsley leaned in closer to her. “I’m guessing this is the not-so-nice one you were talking about?”
Chupacabra turned toward the broken-down, wooden oil rig platform just off the side of el Terminal Remota. He smiled. “At long last I’ve returned, armed with the tools I need to take what is rightfully mine!”
The crowd stood in stunned silence, afraid to run, afraid to scream—until a single voice suddenly cut through the air.
“I told you before, you mangy mutt! There’s no way we’re letting you get to whatever is lying at the bottom of that crater!”
The crowd parted. Jordan stood near the railing on the opposite side of the pier. A few locals helped Alistair up onto the structure, then the two of them made their way straight for Chupacabra.
One of the locals who’d helped Alistair looked down at the water. “Hey, my boat is back.”
Chupacabra laughed as Jordan came to a stop a good distance away from him. “And who would stop me, Grimsley? You? These humans?”
Alistair stepped up beside Jordan. “There’s someone who would never forgive me if I didn’t let her have first shot at you.” Alistair put his fingers to his lips and whistled. Nothing happened. He whistled again. “Haggis-Breath!” he shouted back toward the railing. “Ya got kelp in your ears?”
Nessie erupted from the water below, soared over the crowd, and flopped onto the pier with a thud. She reared up her chest and stretched out her long green neck, glaring at Chupacabra. The stunned crowd slowly recognized her and burst into gasps, pointing and calling out her name excitedly.
“The Loch Ness Monster!”
“Ooh! The Loch Ness Monster!” Chupacabra mocked the crowd. “I hope she’s not all you’ve brought to try to stop me, or these people aren’t in for much of a show!”
Kriss the Mothman swooped overhead and released his furry, white cargo. The mighty Yeti hit the pier in a perfect superhero-style three-point landing, then slowly stood up beside Nessie.
The crowd fell silent for a moment, then turned their attention back to screaming Nessie’s name. “The Loch Ness Monster!” A few in the crowd took selfies.
Wilford scratched his face where half his moustache was missing. “Really? Nothing? Not even for that entrance?” Nessie stopped posing for the crowd and snorted, then the two of them turned to face Chupacabra.
Chupacabra snickered. “Is this all you got? An overgrown guppy and some scraggly mountain hermit?”
Jordan scanned the pier and caught the eye of Abbie standing beside his father. “Just one second,” he said to Chupacabra. He walked over to them.
“Jordan!” his dad exclaimed. “Isn’t this amazing? That’s the Loch Ness Monster!”
“I know, Dad.”
“Abbie told your mother and I all about the Creature Keepers. We’re up to speed, so don’t worry.”
“That’s great, Dad.”
Mr. Grimsley pointed at Chupacabra. “That one, there. He’s no good. Watch out for him, son.”
“Dad, I know. I know all about them.”
“Of course you do.” Mr. Grimsley glanced at Wilford. “Him I don’t know. What is he, some sort of albino bigfoot or something?”
“Excuse me,” Wilford said. “I’m the Yeti. Abominable Snowman?”
“Dad,” Abbie said. “Maybe just be quiet now, and let us handle this.”
Mr. Grimsley nodded. Jordan glanced around the pier. “Abbie, where the heck is—”
“Hey, look! There’s Bigfoot!” Mr. Grimsley suddenly blurted out.
Near the wooden platform rig, a large foot stepped over the pier railing. Syd lifted his other, smaller foot awkwardly. His eyeshades were askew on top of his head. He looked confused, and a little annoyed.
“See, you can’t call him that, Dad,” Abbie said. “He really doesn’t like that name.”
“What is all the ruckus?” Syd said, rubbing his eyes. “It sounds like a nine-point-six-Richter rock-rumbler over here. Some of us are trying to sleep!”
The crowd burst into the biggest cheer yet, which visibly annoyed Wilford. Nessie pouted as they all hollered, “SAS-QUATCH!” and snapped even more pictures as Syd began getting into it, mugging for the camera and striking his signature pose.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” Wilford grabbed the Sasquatch and dragged him over to stand with him and Nessie. “What makes you two so darned famous, anyhow?”
“Buck would say publicity,” Syd said. “I mean, no offense, dude, but you live alone on a mountaintop in the Himalayas. That’s just a poor branding strategy.”
Chupacabra faced the three special cryptids. “Well, if everyone’s here now, let’s move things along, shall we? Starting with moving you three out of my way.” He slammed his Soil-Sole down on the concrete section of the pier. A massive slab broke free from the wooden section, crumbling into the water—taking Nessie, Syd, and Wilford along with it.
“That was even easier than I thought,” the evil cryptid said with a grin.
32
The wooden section of the pier cracked and splintered where the concrete chunk had torn away from it. The screaming crowd on that side retreated, pushing and shoving one another back from the broken edge.
Jordan, Abbie, Alistair, and Mr. Grimsley went to run toward the gap to search for the fallen cryptids but found themselves trapped on the concrete side of the pier between Chupacabra and the chasm. They were unable to help even as innocent people dangled from the wooden side, clamoring to get back onto the pier.
“We’re cut off by that monster!” Mr. Grimsley exclaimed.
“Luckily we’ve got a lot more friends than he does!” Abbie pointed as Kriss swooped overhead. The Mothman grabbed the people hanging from the broken section of the pier and delivered them safely with the others before zooming off again.
On the other side, Sam and Julia, along with the kids and the Alebrijes carpenters from Flamboyanes, led the crowd in an effort to tear up nearby food shacks and gift stalls. Like an army of worker ants, they used the wood and nails to begin constructing a makeshift bridge across the gap, back toward the concrete section.
“There’s no sign of ’em!” Alistair had dashed to the edge of the railing and was searching the churning water. Jordan, Abbie, and Mr. Grimsley joined him. The three super-cryptids were nowhere to be seen.
“Wait, look there!” Jordan pointed downward. A white furry tail flickered near one of the legs of the old drilling platform, splashing before disappearing into the depths.
“It’s Moe!” Abbie exclaimed. “She’ll find them!”
The brief flash of hope was suddenly replaced with a shock of cold from behind, as Chupacabra shot an arctic blast from his Blizzard-Bristles. It slammed into the wooden drill tower on the old platform, sending the rickety structure tipping over, demolishing the cabin and bunkhouse. The entire thing toppled into the water, right where Moe had disappeared.
Jordan, Abbie, Alistair, and Mr. Grimsley stared wide-eyed in horror at the water churning with splintered wood and debris. There was still no sign of any of the cryptids.
Chupacabra cackled. “One less obstacle standing between me and my prize. With the three elemental gifts in my control, I can now extract the fourth—and finally control the power of the Perfect Storm!”
“No!” Jordan ran in a blind rage straight at Chupacabra. The cryptid leaped with his Soil-Sole, soaring over Jordan and the others, straight out over the gulf. Jordan stopped and spun around. “Stop him!” he screamed.
“If he gets to that eggsteroid, it’s over!” Abbie yelled.
Alistair leaned over the railing, put his chubby fingers to his lips, and let out a sharp whistle.
As Chupacabra descended toward the water, a white creature breached to meet him. Moe swung his great, furry body in midair. Gilligan rode atop his neck, holding on as the Trunko swatted Chupacabra with his wide tail, slapping him back up over the railing. Chupacabra hit the concrete pier hard, landing in a lump near where the Mayan Princess was docked.
Gilligan leaped from Moe’s back as he crested, onto the dock behind Jordan, Abbie, Alistair, and Mr. Grimsley. The great white Trunko splashed back into the water below.
“Great work, you guys!” Jordan said. “Any sign of the special cryptids?”
“Guys?” Gilligan said. “I did all the work! And yeah, I also managed to get those three ‘specials’ unstuck down there. They were trapped under a slab of concrete. But don’t thank me or anything. I only saved the lives of the three most powerful cryptids on the planet. No biggie.”
“I think you had a bit of help,” Alistair said.
“Who, Moe? Please. That soggy old gym sock just slows me down.”
“HONK!” Moe breached again, blasting Gilligan with a trunkful of water.
Gilligan shook it off. “He does have exceptional hearing. I’ll give him that.”
“Thanks, Moe!” Abbie yelled over the side to Moe, who disappeared into the water. She smiled at the sight of Nessie floating on her back like a fat buoy. Standing on her great belly
were Wilford and Syd waving up at them.
“Oh, bless that puffy white whale!” Alistair hollered out. “They’re okay!”
A joyful noise came from across the broken pier. The crowd stopped working on their bridge to wave back to the famous cryptids below. As the news cameras rolled and the crowd pointed and cheered, Abbie’s and Jordan’s attention refocused toward the end of the pier, where Chupacabra was still lying in a lump.
“He’s still down,” Jordan said. “This could be our only chance. Use whatever means you have to, but we have to keep him out of that water.”
“I’ve got just the team to do it.” Abbie grabbed Alistair. “C’mon!”
Mr. Grimsley watched Abbie and Alistair bolt toward the ship. “I’m learning quite a lot today, Jordan,” he said. “About my father and my kids.”
“We’re glad you’re here to help us save the world,” Jordan said.
“Me too. I only wish your grandfather were with us. Not so I could see him. But so that he could see you.”
“Thanks, Dad. I have someone I wish was here, too.”
“Well, whaddya say we save the world—for Grampa Grimsley and Eldon Pecone.”
The two of them shared a smile, then Jordan’s father turned and ran off to join the others. Jordan climbed up on the railing and looked down at the debris floating in the water. Wilford, Syd, and even Nessie waved him on.
Jordan shut his eyes and leaped off the pier.
33
Chupacabra stood up to find himself surrounded by a very strange collection of adversaries. He chuckled. “The Creature Keepers. How sad.”
Abbie stepped forward as the cryptids gathered behind her. “I think you have us confused with someone else. We’re not Creature Keepers. We’re Face Chompers. And we have one job: to keep your scaly butt dry-docked, permanently.”
“Yee-haw!” Buck suddenly broke through the crowd as he waved his signature lasso over his head, hurling it toward Chupacabra. “I got him, you guys! You guys, I got him— WHOA!”
