The Chupacabra Catastrophe

by Amanda M. Lee

  That sounded like absolutely no fun at all. “Why? There’s nothing in here.”

  “We don’t think there’s anything in here,” Jack corrected. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t. It’s dark down there. There could be a snake or something.”

  “Like a trouser snake?”

  Jack stilled. “What’s a trouser snake? I’ve never heard of that. In fact … .” Realization dawned. “Holy crap. Did you just make a dirty joke?”

  My cheeks burned. “Actually, do you remember the inn we stayed at in Hemlock Cove? It was something Tillie Winchester said, and it stuck with me.”

  “Sounds just like her.” Jack squared his shoulders. “I’m still checking out the hallway alone. The floor might be ready to give way or something. You stay here.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Ha, ha.” Jack rolled his eyes before swiveling, flicking on his flashlight and shuffling down the hallway. His path was exacting as he extended his toe to check the strength of every floorboard. I soon lost interest in watching his progress. My inner danger alarm wasn’t dinging – something that often happened when bad things were about to happen – and instead I turned my full attention to the mirror.

  I didn’t know what to make of it. The glass was old enough that it had a warped appearance. It was covered in dirt and grime, although portions of the room behind me were visible despite the splintering. In a weird way, the broken mirror almost looked like a piece of art.

  I focused on one of the corners – an area that seemed to be missing pieces – and when I moved my eyes back to the center I did a double take as I registered a hint of movement behind me. Like a complete idiot, I remained rooted to my spot as fear overtook me. The movement continued, kind of like the leading edge of a ghost I couldn’t quite see, and the fluttering moved closer to me as my heart skipped a beat and I suddenly lost the ability to swallow.

  My heart pounded in my chest, blood rushed past my ears, and still the movement grew closer. It was almost on top of me when my fear response kicked in and I lashed out with my mind, using my telekinesis to launch one of the fallen lumps of garbage from the floor in the direction of the swirling energy matter.

  I ducked my head and regained the ability to move, swiveling as I gasped out a breath and came face to face … with Jack.

  “What the holy hell was that?” Jack stood a good fifteen feet away, his dark eyes wide as he scanned the room.

  How much had he seen? Did he realize I moved the pile of refuse? Did he see the thing I registered in the mirror? I couldn’t make my tongue work.

  “You’re pale.” Jack strode closer, and I thought for a moment he would hug me. The idea settled me, caused my extremities to warm a bit, until instead he grabbed my chin so he could stare into my eyes. “Charlie, what did you see?”

  “W-what do you mean?”

  “I saw you in the mirror.” Jack was decidedly calm. “You were frozen in your spot as if you saw something, and then the hunk of crap – which I think used to be a chair – moved.”

  Crud! He’d seen. How was I supposed to explain what happened? “I … .”

  “You didn’t see the Chupacabra, did you?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know that I saw anything,” I said finally, unsure how to proceed. “It’s more that I felt something. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  “Okay.” Jack’s voice was even. That only served to agitate me.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Jack countered. “I thought for a second I might’ve seen something, too. It was right behind you. I was going to yell for you to move, and then suddenly the chair flew across the room.”

  Uh-oh. “Yeah, that freaked me out a bit, too.” That was a total lie, but odds were he wouldn’t believe I was responsible for the chair. That was for the better. “Maybe we’re dealing with a ghost rather than the Chupacabra.”

  “We’re definitely dealing with something,” Jack said. “I found more of those tracks toward the back. I took photos. It’s getting dark, though.” He pointed toward the broken-out front window for emphasis. “We need to get out of here. We’ll go back to the hotel and talk about a plan of action for tomorrow.”

  I nodded without hesitation. “Sounds good.”

  Jack’s expression was sympathetic as he rested his hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I honestly feel a little foolish because I did that kid thing where you freeze and can’t move when I thought I saw the swirling … whatever it was.”

  “Don’t feel foolish for that.” Jack prodded me toward the door. “Your body has a fear response for a reason. Listen to it.”

  “What if I’m just a coward?”

  Jack chuckled lightly. “I don’t think that’s the case, but I guess we’ll find out eventually, huh? Come on. Let’s find Chris and Zach. I’m ready to call it a night.”

  JACK KEPT ME CLOSE for the ride home, handing Chris his camera so the man could study the footprints from the saloon. That kept Chris busy for the duration of the ride back to town. Zach was another story.

  “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Zach made sympathetic clucking sounds as he stared at me in the rearview mirror. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Jack answered for me, his eyes flashing. “It was a creepy setting. We’re both … fine.”

  “Well, I’m sure she’ll feel even better after she has some dinner,” Zach said. “The restaurant down the way – the only decent restaurant in town – has wonderfully authentic regional food. I’m sure that will make her feel better.”

  “Regional food?” I scratched an imaginary itch on the side of my nose. “Is that like … Mexican food?”

  “More like barbecue,” Zach replied. “Ribs, burgers, steaks. I hope you’re not a vegetarian, because I’m pretty sure the restaurant has nothing to offer if you are.”

  “Oh. Barbecue sounds good.”

  “It definitely does,” Jack agreed.

  Once we hit the hotel, Chris instructed everyone to freshen up before meeting back in the lobby so we could walk to the restaurant together. Jack’s eyes were probing as he dropped me at my room, and I wasn’t surprised to find him waiting in the hallway after I splashed water on my face and ran a brush through my hair.

  “You don’t have to hover,” I chided as we descended the stairs. “I’m okay.”

  “Maybe I like hovering,” Jack suggested. “Have you ever considered that?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well … you’re still pale.” Jack put his hand to the back of my neck as he directed me toward the front door. “You’re a little clammy, too.”

  “I splashed cold water on my face.”

  “Don’t argue with your doctor.” Jack mustered a smile, which stayed in place until Zach stepped out of the shadows and intercepted us on the front porch.

  “Milady?” Zach offered his arm for me to take, but I instinctively avoided him by cutting in front of Jack and positioning myself between the security chief and a distracted Chris, who seemed much more interested in the camera he carried than the weird testosterone display between our temporary guide and permanent security chief.

  “Let’s get some dinner,” Jack said pointedly, his gaze hard as it held Zach in place. “I think Charlie could use the energy boost.”

  “I think we all could,” Zach said, grinning. If he was bothered by my rather obvious snub he didn’t show it. He kept up a running commentary as we headed toward the restaurant.

  The rest of our team was already seated – Millie and Bernard munching on bread while Hannah and Laura had their heads bent together, chatting about something. Once everyone reunited, the information started flying fast and furious.

  “All the blood was exsanguinated from the body,” Hannah supplied, her features calm and placid despite the heavy topic. “That doesn’t necessarily mean the Chupacabra did it, but it’s definitely interesting.”

  “And has he defi
nitely been identified as Dominic Sully?” Jack asked, handing me a warm slice of bread. He seemed keen to make sure I ate so I could bolster my shaky reserves.

  “Actually, no,” Millie replied, causing several sets of eyes to drift in her direction. “The body is too beat up for a proper identification right now.”

  Jack stilled. “What do you mean?”

  “The body is … different looking,” Hannah replied after a beat. “With all the blood gone and several little nibblers taking bites while it was out at Hooper’s Mill, no one has been able to make a proper identification.”

  “So it’s not Sully?” I asked, leaning forward.

  “We’re not sure,” Millie replied. “Sully hasn’t been seen, but he’s something of a loner and his secretary says that’s not abnormal. He tends to go wherever he wants, whenever he wants, and he doesn’t call or check in for days at a time. His people are trying to track him down.”

  “If it’s not Sully, who is it?” Jack asked. “Surely if someone was missing from this area the authorities would know. It shouldn’t be hard to track down an identity in an area with such sparse population.”

  “There are a lot of undocumented workers passing through,” Zach interjected. “This is an area where people don’t always check in with one another. If someone took off … we might not know for a long time.”

  “So what does that mean?” I asked.

  “It means we need to identify that body,” Chris answered. “We can’t go forward until we’re absolutely sure who we’re dealing with. There could be multiple motives assigned to the death of a particular individual.”

  “Chris is right,” Jack said. “It’s better if we know what – or rather who – we’re dealing with.”

  “All we can say with any certainty is that it’s a man in his fifties,” Laura said. “He didn’t have any identification on him – which is weird however you look at it because I don’t think the Chupacabra is out to participate in identity theft – but the medical examiner hopes to have more information tomorrow.”

  “I hope to have more information tomorrow, too,” Chris said. “We didn’t get as much time to look around Hooper’s Mill as I would’ve liked. It’s a fascinating little place. You could practically feel it come to life as darkness fell.”

  That was an interesting way to put it. Is that what happened in the saloon? Did something come to life? As if reading my mind, Jack handed me another hunk of bread. It was as if he was trying to soothe me with carbohydrates.

  “Eat,” Jack prodded, keeping his voice low.

  I thought about arguing, but there didn’t seem to be a point, so I bit into the hunk of bread and briefly pressed my eyes shut. When I opened them again, I found Jack leaning close. I almost jolted at his proximity, but I figured that would send the wrong message. Of course, I had no idea what the right message was, so I was lost in a quagmire of questions.

  “Don’t mention what you think you saw in the mirror right away,” Jack whispered. “I don’t want Chris getting all worked up.”

  “You want me to lie?” I spared a quick glance around the table, but no one was paying attention to us.

  “Not lie,” Jack clarified. “Just … hold onto the information for now. Chris is looking for the Chupacabra. What happened in that saloon is different.”

  “I still think he’d want to know.”

  “I’m not saying to keep it to yourself forever. Just keep it quiet until our new friend isn’t around.”

  Whatever was going on, Jack really didn’t like Zach. He wasn’t the only one. “Okay. I’ll keep it to myself.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What are you two talking about over there?” Millie asked, her eyes lit with mirth. “Are you whispering dirty ideas to one another?”

  Jack scowled. “Can you keep your mind out of the gutter for five minutes?”

  Millie shook her head. “It’s impossible.”

  “We were talking about having people stay at Hooper’s Mill overnight,” I interjected, ignoring Jack’s furious look when I unveiled the lie. “I think it might be worth the risk. There’s potential to see an entirely different world there after dark.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea at all,” Zach said.

  “I hate to agree with Zach – I mean … really hate it – but I don’t think that’s a good idea either,” Jack said. “We have no idea what’s out there.”

  “That’s why we should stay,” I argued. “We should find out.”

  “No.” Jack emphatically shook his head. “I’m head of security. It’s a stupid idea.”

  “And I’m head of the team and I’m not ruling anything out,” Chris overruled Jack, much to my delight and Jack’s chagrin. “I want to consider it.”

  Jack wasn’t ready to give up. “But … .”

  “We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.” Chris’ tone was no nonsense. “Tonight, let’s have some dinner and get a good night’s sleep. I agree it’s not wise to go out there tonight. Tomorrow is another day.”

  6

  Six

  I was tired after dinner, the adrenalin rush from what happened in Hooper’s Mill quickly fading, but taking its toll. The only thing I could think about was crawling into bed and checking out for eight solid hours. Even though the mattress sagged in the middle and the room left a lot to be desired, sleep was all I could think about.

  That idea lasted exactly fifteen minutes, until I climbed into my fuzzy sleep bottoms and T-shirt, and groaned at the knock on my door.

  It took everything I had to fumble my way out of bed, and when I opened the door Millie stood on the other side. I immediately wished I’d pulled the covers over my head and pretended to be asleep.

  “Whatever you have planned, I’m not doing it.” I blurted out the words before Millie could mention whatever idea took over her very busy brain. I hadn’t known Millie long, but I was convinced she lived by a set of rules the rest of us didn’t, and she wasn’t good at taking “no” for an answer.

  “I haven’t even told you what I have planned yet,” Millie complained, making a face.

  “Yes, but I remember the last time you came to my door when I should’ve been sleeping and I can still hear Jack yelling.”

  “You’re such a whiner.” Millie didn’t bother hiding her eye roll. “We barely got in trouble for that. You’re exaggerating.”

  “How would you know?” I challenged. “You were passed out. I got in trouble while you slept it off.”

  “Hey, I had a terrible hangover the next morning. That was punishment enough.”

  I’d seen her the next morning and I could hardly argue. “I’m not going on whatever crazy mission you’ve dreamed up.” I crossed my arms over my chest to let her know I meant business. “It’s not going to happen.”

  “Come on,” Millie prodded. “I have a great idea.”

  Despite myself, I was intrigued. “A great idea to do what? If we steal one of the rentals and head out to Hooper’s Mill, Jack will track us down and he very well might kill us.”

  Millie arched an eyebrow, surprised. “I have no intention of stealing a vehicle and heading to Hooper’s Mill. It’s good to know where your mind is, though.”

  I balked. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Oh, don’t take it back now. You’re starting to get more interesting.” Millie wagged a finger near the tip of my nose, her lips curving. “As much as I’d like to steal a vehicle and head out to Hooper’s Mill – and that does sound mildly interesting from a scientific perspective – that would be virtually impossible because Jack and Chris locked up the keys to both vehicles.”

  “Oh.” I deflated a bit. “So what do you have in mind?”

  “Well … there’s this bar.”

  “Absolutely not,” I barked, vehemently shaking my head. “I am not going to a bar with you.”

  “Shh!” Millie’s eyes flashed as she pressed a finger to her lips and looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one heard our argument.
“You are like the queen of the meltdown. Has anyone ever told you that? When you’re about to break the rules you don’t announce it for everyone to hear.”

  “I have no intention of breaking the rules.” I honestly meant that. All I wanted to do was go to sleep. It was lame, but true. “I’m tired, Millie. I need to rest.”

  “Oh, geez.” Millie wrinkled her nose, not bothering to hide her disdain. “You are twenty-three years old, girl. It’s ten o’clock. You shouldn’t be worried about going to bed.”

  “If you’re trying to shame me for following the rules … .”

  “Following the rules is an argument for another time,” Millie said, cutting me off. “Sometimes rules should be followed and sometimes they should be ignored. I’m not asking you to break the rules, so there’s no reason to work yourself up into a snit.”

  “Oh.” I was taken aback. “You’re not trying to get me to break the rules?”

  “No.”

  “But you said we were going to a bar.”

  “How is that breaking the rules?” Millie was full of faux innocence. “Did you sign a morality clause when you came to work for the Legacy Foundation?”

  “No,” I hedged, looking up and down the hallway.

  “Then why can’t we go to the bar?”

  I didn’t have a good answer, so I decided to turn the conversation around on her. “Why should we go to the bar?”

  “Because we’re in a town the size of a postage stamp,” Millie replied without hesitation. “We don’t even know who our dead guy is. That seems odd, no matter what that slick tour guide has to say.”

  Millie’s overt distaste bolstered me. “You don’t like Zach either?”

  “He’s smarmy and thinks he’s full of charm,” Millie replied. “It’s my contention that those who really have charm don’t need to put so much effort into faking it.”

  “Good point.” To buy myself time, I tapped my chin. “What do you think we’ll find at the bar?”

  “Gossip.”

  “What kind of gossip?”

  “The kind we’re not going to get from a tour guide trying to impress people,” Millie answered. “I want to know more about Zach Corrigan. I also want to know more about Dominic Sully and who else might be hanging out at Hooper’s Mill. We won’t find those answers through official channels.”