The Chupacabra Catastrophe

Home > Romance > The Chupacabra Catastrophe > Page 21
The Chupacabra Catastrophe Page 21

by Amanda M. Lee


  “You didn’t believe in it from the beginning,” Millie pointed out. “You might not see it if it was right in front of you, because you tend to be situationally blind when the mood strikes.”

  “Charlie and I were in front of the saloon almost the entire time,” Jack said. “We would’ve seen something if it was there.”

  “Except you were too busy looking at one another to watch for anything else,” Laura supplied.

  Jack wheeled on her, his hands clenched into fists at his sides and his eyes wild. “Do not even think about putting this off on us. Just because I didn’t come down on you in front of Deputy Pierson doesn’t mean I won’t do it now.

  “Charlie and I were sitting by the fire,” he continued. “We were talking and minding our own business. You and Zach went off with Chris. You were supposed to be watching each other. You fell down on the job.”

  Sensing potential disaster given the fury in Laura’s eyes, I put a hand on Jack’s forearm to calm him. “This won’t help.”

  “I don’t care if it helps.” Jack was beyond reason, lack of sleep causing him to melt down. “They were supposed to be watching each other. They promised. That was the only reason I wasn’t worried. That’s the only reason I didn’t insist on all five of us staying together.”

  “You can’t possibly blame this on us,” Zach argued, speaking for the first time since we left Hooper’s Mill. “I told you that staying there overnight was a bad idea. I told you that from the beginning. No one listened to me.”

  “If you thought it was such a bad idea, why did you agree to go?” I challenged.

  “Because … .” Zach broke off, working his jaw.

  “Because you wanted to get into Laura’s pants,” I finished. “You obviously weren’t worried enough to forego the possibility of sex.”

  “We didn’t have sex,” Laura snapped. “We just sort of … made out. It’s not our fault we lost track of Chris. He tends to have a mind of his own when it comes to these things.”

  “Don’t you dare blame him,” Hannah hissed. “How can you possibly even consider blaming him?”

  “Because he wandered away,” Laura spat.

  “Except he didn’t,” I said. “He might’ve wandered a few feet away, but ultimately he was taken. Whether it was by the Chupacabra or a human, I don’t know, but I lean more toward a human. If the Chupacabra was involved, it would’ve dropped him. It didn’t bother hiding Morrison’s body.”

  “We don’t know the Chupacabra is even real,” Jack pointed out. “We have no idea what happened to Chris. I side with Charlie on this one. I have to believe a human did this. An animal would’ve killed him where he stood. We would’ve found him … or at least seen signs of him. Something else is going on here.”

  “Oh, of course you agree with Charlie,” Laura seethed. “You always agree with Charlie these days. It’s ridiculous … and annoying … and pathetic … and so freaking annoying!”

  “You’re freaking annoying,” Jack shot back, the muscle in his jaw furiously working. “You should have been watching him!”

  “Okay.” I knew things were about to spiral out of control and felt the need to step in. “This is getting us nowhere. We need to stop.”

  Jack murdered me with a look. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  I had a choice. I could back down and let him rage or I could force him to see reason. Both were dangerous prospects. “I’m not telling you what to do.” I chose my words carefully. “I am asking you not to do this. There’s a difference.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because you’re exhausted. I know, because I’m exhausted, too, and I got an hour of sleep. You’re running on fumes. You need some rest.”

  Jack tugged on his hair. “I can’t rest knowing Chris is out there. I know the cops think this is either a hoax or we’re covering up for ourselves. Right now, I think they believe it’s a hoax. The longer he’s gone, the less chance he has of survival.”

  “You can’t change his fate right now,” I pointed out. “The cops have control. Going back out there and getting yourself arrested won’t help Chris. We need to wait until they get back to us.

  “Until then, you need rest,” I continued. “You need to be at full strength when word comes. If they’re not going to continue the search – which is entirely possible if they think we’re perpetuating a hoax – then we need to go back out there ourselves and start another search.

  “You’re going to need your strength for that,” I prodded. “You’re a strong guy, Jack, but you’re running on fumes.”

  Jack stared at me for a long beat, blinking as he considered the statement. “Fine,” he said finally. “I’ll take a few hours down. You need to do the same.”

  “That’s exactly what I have in mind.”

  Jack offered up one more glare for Laura and Zach’s benefit before pointing himself toward the stairs. “I’ll be back. If the cops call or show up, wake me.”

  “We’re on it,” Bernard said. “We’ll find him.”

  I followed Jack up the stairs, halting when I saw his door was open because a maid was inside cleaning.

  “I think this is supposed to be a message of sorts,” Jack said. “I shouldn’t sleep.”

  “It’s not a message. It’s simply an inconvenience.” I grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him toward my room. “You can sleep in here with me.”

  Jack’s expression was hard to read when he snagged my gaze. “Excuse me?”

  “Just sleep,” I stressed. “We both need it. At least this way I’ll know you’re actually resting so I can close my eyes, too.”

  “Last time we slept next to one another it didn’t go well.”

  There was no need to remind me of that embarrassing experience. It was seared in my brain. We went to sleep in the same tent, in separate sleeping bags, but woke tangled together, somehow cuddling in our sleep. It was a mortifying memory.

  “Don’t get full of yourself,” I chided. “That was an accident. I don’t need a reminder that you’re not interested in me that way. It’s embarrassing for both of us, but we need sleep. My room is already clean. We can sleep – fully clothed – for a few hours. No one will be the wiser.”

  Jack ran his tongue over his teeth, internally debating. “Fine. Keep your hands to yourself, though.” He left me gaping as he strode into my room, not bothering to glance my way again until he kicked off his boots and climbed onto the bed. “Are you coming?”

  I glared as I shut the door and removed my shoes. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” I grumbled under my breath. “Maybe you should be the one to keep your hands to yourself.”

  “That’s an interesting option,” Jack said, resting his forearm over his eyes as he yawned. “I think you’re the one we need to worry about. I’m used to it. Women can’t control themselves when they get around me.”

  “Oh, you’re so full of yourself.”

  Jack’s lips quirked. “Go to sleep, Charlie. You were right about the rest, but we don’t have a lot of time. I’m really worried Chris is either already dead or on someone else’s timetable. I don’t like either option.”

  “We’ll find him.” Strangely enough, I was certain that was true. “Now … go to sleep.”

  “What do you think I’m trying to do? You need to shut your trap for it to happen.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  I thought sleep would elude me. I was so tense I figured I’d pretend to sleep so Jack wouldn’t be bothered. Much like at Hooper’s Mill, though, I dropped straight into sleep … and woke in another dreamscape.

  “WHAT ARE WE doing here?”

  Jack’s gaze was intense as he studied the dream version of Hooper’s Mill.

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t bother to hide my frustration. “I was hoping for a dream-free nap.”

  “I once read a study that said dream sleep is more restful than non-dream sleep,” Jack offered. “Maybe that’s good for both of us.”

  “Or maybe this
is going to be an annoying trip and my subconscious is going to try to give me clues that I won’t be able to decipher. Did you ever consider that?”

  “No.” Jack smiled as he glanced around. “Are we supposed to look for Chris here?”

  That was a good question. “I don’t know. I don’t know why we’re here at all. In fact … .” A flash of something in the upstairs window of the hotel caught my attention. I saw movement behind the curtains – curtains that didn’t exist in the real world because they’d fallen into tattered shreds long ago – and I was certain that someone was watching me.

  “Jack, I know you’re not really here and that my subconscious keeps manifesting you for some reason I don’t fully understand, but I need to tell you something.”

  Jack, his attention directed toward a set of prints on the ground, merely grunted in acknowledgement.

  “If I go missing, don’t come looking for me.”

  Jack snapped his head in my direction, surprise evident on his curious face. “What do you mean?”

  “I keep having this flash,” I explained. I saw no reason to lie. This wasn’t really happening. I believed my mind kept manufacturing a clone of Jack to act as the voice of reason in my busy imagination.

  “Flash?” Jack arched an eyebrow. “What kind of flash?”

  “I think it’s something that’s going to happen in the future,” I replied. “I know that sounds weird, but … I don’t know what else it could be.”

  “It doesn’t sound weird at all,” Jack said dryly. “I hear crap like that every single day.”

  “Hear it but don’t believe it.”

  “You say tomato … .”

  I smiled despite myself. “Anyway, in the flash I’m up in that room.” I pointed so he would know. “I’m not alone. Someone is there with me.”

  “Someone bad?”

  I swallowed hard and nodded. “That’s the feeling I get.”

  “And what does that have to do with me?”

  “I see you in the vision,” I replied. “You’re on the street, yelling for me. You’re on the street and seem desperate to find me. A storm is brewing and lightning is flashing and … you’re yelling.”

  “And?”

  “And I believe that if you go to that room looking for me, something really bad will happen.”

  When Jack didn’t immediately respond, I risked a glance at him.

  “You expect me to sit back and do nothing while you’re up in that room in danger?”

  “I don’t know what will happen to me and I know you don’t have any control over what the real Jack will do, but I need him to stay safe. I think something really bad will happen if he goes to that room,” I explained. “If I’m meant to die up there … .”

  “You’re not going to die,” Jack growled, his vehemence taking me by surprise. “I won’t let that happen.”

  “I know.” I patted his arm, hoping to offer comfort. “But if I do it’s not your fault. I need you to know that. I’m going to do my best not to end up in that room, but if I do … I know you’ll do everything in your power to find me. It’s more important to keep yourself safe. It’s more important to find Chris.”

  “It’s not more important.”

  “It feels more important.”

  “Then you’re an idiot.” Jack shook his head as he stared at the window. “What direction does the person move when they come for you?”

  I gestured with my hand. “As we’re looking, I’m on the right but toward the middle of the window, and the shadow comes in from the left.”

  “Like someone is in the next room or entering from the hallway?”

  “As if someone is suddenly there. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  We lapsed into silence, both of us lost in our own little worlds. Jack was the first to break it … which was a marked change from our interactions in the real world.

  “I won’t leave you, Charlie. I know you’ve come to expect that because of what happened with your parents, but I won’t do it.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  “Not this time.” I forced a smile for his benefit. “It’s okay. I’ve come to the conclusion – after years and years of self-doubt – that you can’t beat fate. What’s supposed to happen happens no matter what.”

  “Really?” Jack was dubious. “I’ve come to the conclusion that I won’t let anything happen to you. I guess we’ll have to see who is right, huh?”

  “I guess.”

  “May the smarter person – that would be me in this case – win.”

  I giggled, the sound taking me by surprise. “Even my dream version of you is bossy.”

  “Yes, well, that’s how I roll.”

  I WOKE WITH A START, bolting to a sitting position and letting my gaze travel toward a slumbering Jack. He rested on his side, his face serene in sleep.

  I was about to rejoin him, hopefully this time without an odd dream conversation, when I heard a distinctive clicking sound at the door.

  The movement was small and subtle, but I didn’t miss the way the handle moved. Back and forth, back and forth, as if someone was testing it.

  My mind was still muddled with sleep, but I understood something very clearly: Someone was trying to get inside my room.

  24

  Twenty-Four

  I stared at the door, my heart rate picking up a notch. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as my blood turned cold and I stared at the handle.

  It was silent for so long I thought there was a possibility I imagined it.

  Then the door handle moved again.

  Back and forth.

  Back and forth.

  The room was quiet other than the air conditioner in the window, but the machine was loud enough to supply white noise – which I liked – and the occasional whine that broke the monotony of the droning sound. It also managed to cover the small “clicking” noise of the twisting door handle. I only knew it was happening because I saw the movement.

  I remained on my back, my hands resting on my stomach, and watched. Jack’s breathing was even as he slumbered next to me. He needed the sleep. The next twenty-four hours would be brutal. Whether he was to blame or not, he would emotionally flog himself until he was broken down.

  The best scenario would be discovering Chris somehow wandered off and got lost. The odds of that were unlikely – especially the more time elapsed – but I wasn’t ruling it out. Perhaps that was naïve, but I still had hope.

  The worst-case scenario involved Chris already being dead. Whether by human or creature design, our lovable, yet absent-minded leader could’ve been so distracted by what he was doing that someone – or something, for that matter – approached him from behind and took him out with minimal effort. Chris would fight for his life if he saw the enemy coming. If he didn’t, he’d go down quickly.

  The far more likely scenario – at least in my book because no body had been found – involved Chris being taken and held somewhere. If someone wanted him dead, or to send a message, he or she would’ve left the body where it was easily discoverable. If the Chupacabra killed him, it would’ve sucked his blood and left his body behind. Even if another creature arrived to drag him away – and I had my doubts anything big enough to do that lived in the desert surrounding Hooper’s Mill – we would’ve seen marks in the sand. That indicated someone took Chris for another purpose. What that reason was, though, I had no idea.

  The handle turned again, causing me to carefully pull myself to a sitting position. Someone was on the other side of the door. It wasn’t the maid. She had a key. It wasn’t a member of my team. They would knock – some of them would yell – and they wouldn’t keep trying after figuring out the door was locked. No, this was someone else.

  I cast a look to Jack. He looked almost angelic in sleep. Er, well, he was actually too macho to look angelic. He did look like a beautiful piece of artwork, though. The lines of his face as he slumber
ed made him look even more handsome. I didn’t want to wake him, but I didn’t see a way out of it.

  Then something occurred to me. I tilted my head to the side as I focused on the door. I didn’t need to get out of bed to deal with who was out there. I merely needed to use the abilities I worked so hard to keep secret from those surrounding me.

  I chewed my bottom lip as I narrowed my eyes and conjured a picture of the ugly artwork from the hallway into my head. It hung on the wall across the way, right next to Jack’s door, and featured a cow skull, bar and some sort of weird machine in a field of corn. The colors were muted and the tone of the painting was depressing. It didn’t need to be pretty to serve my purpose.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the power build in my chest before releasing it. There was a “whoosh” I knew only I could feel, and then I heard the distinctive sound of someone grunting as the painting whacked into him or her. There was a mild scuffle and then something hit the ground – probably the painting – and footsteps signified a hasty retreat.

  “What was that?” Jack jerked to a sitting position, his eyes blurry as he swiped at his hair to move it away from his face. My plan to race to the door and peer outside evaporated as quickly as his dreams.

  “Something fell in the hallway.” I kept my tone calm and even. “I’m not sure what.”

  “Oh.” Jack didn’t look especially alarmed. I considered telling him I thought someone was trying to break into the room, but he’d be furious I didn’t wake him, and I wasn’t in the mood for an argument. “Okay.”

  Jack rubbed his cheek as he tried to get his bearings. “What time is it?”

  “Almost three.”

  “Three?” Jack did the math in his head. “I slept for five hours.”

  “You needed the sleep.”

  “But we’re losing the day. We need to get back out to Hooper’s Mill. Surely they’ve found something by now.”

  “If they did, they haven’t been in contact with us.” I turned my head to meet his gaze. “You still look tired.”

 

‹ Prev