The beast stalked slowly along the bank of the creek. It worked its nose over the wet, muddy ground. Somewhere nearby was the scent. It was very faint, but it was there. The prey was nearby. Or had been recently.
It paused a moment to drink from the creek. A small log lay just above the surface and a turtle, spying the predator, dived into the water. It growled then, and other animals could be heard splashing into the creek and scurrying away into the underbrush.
Nose to the ground, it moved farther along the creek. It saw lights in the houses beyond the fenced-in backyards. The fences were placed there to keep the alligators out, but presented no obstacle for an animal with its climbing and leaping ability.
The hair on the back of its neck stood on end. Its head snapped up. It smelled the prey’s scent. Close by and strong. It followed the smell to the base of the fence. The fence was made of cypress planks, but it was not nearly tall enough to prevent the predator from leaping to the top of it. Clambering down the other side, it found itself in an empty backyard, except for the trees.
One of the trees was covered in the scent. The beast sniffed at the base. There was dog smell here, but the scent of the prey rose upward, which was confusing. The creature stood on its hind legs, inhaling repeatedly. With a powerful leap, it climbed up the trunk, and the smell grew stronger. The prey was not here now, but this must be his lair, for his odor was very prevalent here.
The creature’s claws dug into the trunk. Above it, in the branches, was a small wooden structure with a hole cut into the floor. It climbed inside, and was overwhelmed by the scent. It was everywhere — along the floorboards and in the corners. But the prey himself was not here. The predator smelled the air and caught the scent again. The wooden tree box had screens, and through one of them the creature saw a house. Lights were on, and there were humans inside. From here, their odors combined, but the creature inhaled deeply and … there it was. The smell it sought.
The prey was inside the house.
Quickly it exited the wooden box and descended the tree. It let out a low growl as it stalked across the lawn toward the house. Carefully and cautiously it crept toward the rear door. The smell was much stronger now. It triggered a release of saliva in its mouth, as it thought of the delicious food it received from the man whenever it found the source of the smell.
There was a stone floor in the grass that led to the door of the house. The hybrid silently crossed it, until it could peer in through the glass. There were several humans inside. Now the predator began to plan. The smell was inside. The smell meant food.
The creature backed up, studying the outlines of the humans inside the house. With a mighty roar, it reared back and charged forward, leaping toward the glass.
It was time to attack.
EMMET STARED AT CALVIN. HE COULDN’T HELP IT. HIS jaw was almost on his chest.
“Did you just say your grandfather? Dr. Catalyst is your grandfather?” Something wasn’t right here. “I thought he was dead.”
“So did I,” Calvin mumbled, his head down.
“Wait. Wait a minute,” Dr. Geaux was saying. “You can’t possibly mean this. Lucas’s father died in the swamp. Years ago.”
“I am afraid that is not true, Rosalita,” Yaha said. “He is very much alive.”
“You’re lying!” Dr. Geaux said. She walked over to Calvin and stood behind him, with her arms around him. Like she wanted to protect him from some awful truth.
“Would that it were so, but I’m not.”
“How do you know this?” Dr. Doyle asked. “And if you know it, why didn’t you say anything until now? Do you know what this man has done? The damage he’s caused? The people he’s hurt? If you knew —”
Yaha held up his hand, cutting him off.
“I know it’s true because he came to me some months ago, after he was injured in a confrontation with one of his … Pterogators, I believe he called them? I provided him with treatment.” There was something about Yaha — something Emmet couldn’t quite put his finger on — that made him think the old man was telling the truth. Yaha stood there in the living room, ramrod straight, and acted almost irritated that anyone would question him.
He was also starting to make Emmet a little angry.
“What do you mean, ‘treatment’?” Dr. Doyle asked.
“Yaha is, or rather was, a medical doctor,” Dr. Geaux said.
“Yes. I am a doctor. Retired. I served in the army in Vietnam as a battalion aid surgeon. I returned home to run the central clinic on the reservation for many years. Now I am retired and live at my camp in the Everglades. The man you call Dr. Catalyst came to me injured, bleeding, almost dead. I treated his wounds and nursed him back to health.”
Now Dr. Geaux was furious. She had an olive complexion to begin with, and was always tanned from being out in the sun a lot. Now you could see the red showing through on her cheeks, a bright red that was growing brighter by the minute.
“Did you know what he was doing? What he’d done? Kidnapping? Releasing these creatures? Why didn’t you stop him? Turn him in? People have been hurt, Yaha!” She had moved past furious, straight to seething.
“Yes. And it is regrettable. At first, I didn’t turn him in because I agreed with him,” he said quietly.
“You … what?” Dr. Geaux was flabbergasted.
“No one can argue that the Everglades aren’t being destroyed by man,” he said. “The current problems with pythons and boa constrictors are just the latest. The River of Grass has suffered mismanagement and outright destruction for many years. Dr. Catalyst — the man you would call my brother-in-law — has been seeking to restore nature’s balance in his own way. But as I considered it, I grew to think that while he may have his heart in the right place, his methods are not sustainable. They will only cause further damage. He has lost his way. When Calvin came to me with the photo and his questions, I answered them as best I could. But the more I thought of it — about Calvin, about Philip — I realized I could not allow him to continue as Dr. Catalyst.”
“Well, thank you so much,” Emmet said. He couldn’t help it. Now he was furious, boiling-mad, someone-better-stop-him-before-he-does-something-he’ll-regret angry. This Yaha person just sat out there, knowing all along who Dr. Catalyst was, and probably how to find him, and kept it a secret? Oh. No. Way.
Yaha looked at Emmet, and for a moment Emmet saw something flash across his eyes. It wasn’t anger or regret. It was shame. But it was only there for a brief instant, and then it was gone.
Emmet’s hands were balled into fists. He stalked across the carpet until he was right in the old man’s face. “He kidnapped my father! He stole my dog! I got disgusting Blood Jacket goop all over me! And you knew! I don’t care what you thought about balance. My dad and Dr. Geaux and a bunch of other people have been working around the clock to fix this mess. People’s lives have been put in danger. And you knew? You should be arrested! In fact, Dr. Geaux, arrest him! Take him downtown and beat him with a nightstick until he tells us everything! And —” Emmet felt arms on his shoulders pulling him back.
“Whoa, son,” his dad said, trying to gently lead him away. “Cool off. This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“I don’t blame you for being angry,” Yaha said.
“Oh, I’m not angry. I’m incensed.” Then Emmet remembered Calvin. He had a role here, too. He spun on his friend.
“And you knew? All this time?” Emmet couldn’t see himself, but he was sure he was turning purple by now.
“I thought I did. But with all respect to my elder, these are not the things he told me,” Calvin said.
“What? You’re not making sense at all. Why is no one making any sense here?” Emmet was trying to get free of his dad’s grip, but Dr. Doyle just held him a little tighter.
Calvin sighed and tried to explain. “I had a photo of some men. It was in a journal that belonged to my father. I found it after he died. They were out in a camp in the Everglades. One of them sort of looked li
ke the man we saw at the school when the Blood Jackets attacked. Uncle Yaha was in the photo, too. I went to the reservation to find out the identity of the man in the photo. He told me it was my grandfather. Not that it was Dr. Catalyst. He told me none of what he’s said here tonight. I thought and thought about it. And I began to think maybe my grandfather was alive. My dad told me Grandfather was very smart. He went to college and had a PhD in microbiology. When he lived on the reservation, he fought long and hard with the state and federal government over saving the Everglades. But I couldn’t get around the fact that my dad was convinced he’d died in the swamp. No one knew the Everglades better than Dad. He wouldn’t make a mistake like that. So the more I thought about it, I couldn’t just come out and accuse someone of being Dr. Catalyst — someone who was supposed to be long dead — because we caught a fleeting glimpse of a guy in a hallway.”
“Calvin is telling the truth,” Yaha said. “I told him nothing about his grandfather being alive. And he is correct in that no one knew the swamp better than his father, Lucas Geaux. Except one person — his grandfather, Philip Geaux. I have come here now to tell you the rest of the story.”
Emmet wanted to punch something, but he never got the opportunity. Apollo started barking and running around in circles, back and forth between the patio doors and the living room. Crazy barking. Like he had a couple of nights ago.
“Apollo …” Dr. Doyle said.
Then the patio door exploded in a cascade of broken glass.
SOMETHING BIG, FURRY, AND ANGRY CAME TUMBLING through the shattered doorway. It was like a monster from a horror movie had jumped off the screen and landed in the dining room.
It growled and tensed its body, ready to spring.
Emmet was frozen in place. All he could see was a giant set of jaws headed for him. And for a brief second, he wondered, Why me? But somewhere deep in his gut, Emmet knew that Dr. Catalyst had sent this creature after him alone. Unless it was captured or killed, there would be no stopping it.
There was shouting and barking in the background, but it seemed far away. The world around Emmet appeared to move in slow motion. Voices and sounds took forever to reach his thoughts.
The animal was big. At least two hundred pounds, if Emmet had to guess. It stood there growling, its mouth open and full of giant teeth. It crouched low to the ground, hate-filled eyes pointed straight at Emmet, ready to spring. It probably would have killed him right then, if not for Apollo.
Apollo weighed maybe twenty-five pounds, if he hadn’t had a haircut. He was half poodle, a breed known for its intelligence, speed, and agility, and half schnauzer, a breed known for being ferocious and territorial. The beast that shattered the dining room door outweighed Apollo by at least 175 pounds. When they’d lived in Montana, Emmet’s dad used to chuckle whenever Apollo would want to take on a critter bigger and probably more ferocious than he was. He would say, “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight. It’s the size of the fight in the dog.”
Apollo had defended Emmet the other night, when this thing almost got into their house. Only Emmet’s lucky grab had kept the dog from getting hurt. But Apollo was out of reach this time, and now he set himself between Emmet and the creature. The schnoodle crouched low to the ground. His muscles tensed and he puffed himself up, growling and barking like Emmet had never heard him. He was also getting ready to attack. It was like he was telling the giant intruder to bring it on.
His presence seemed to confuse the beast momentarily. It stared at him for a second, growling a full-throated growl. Its fur was all brown but spotted in places, and its head was shaped funny, like a dog and cat mixed together. Whatever it was, it was terrifying. And Emmet still couldn’t move. His fight-or-flight reflex had discovered a third option. Fright.
All of this felt like it took hours to happen, but in reality it was merely seconds. Then the beast, deciding Apollo was no threat, turned its eyes back toward Emmet. Emmet heard Dr. Geaux calling his name.
“Emmet! Move! Move!” she shouted. He didn’t know why she wanted him to move, and besides, he couldn’t. Because of the being-petrified thing. It felt like the creature would devour him in an instant if he moved.
But all that didn’t matter, because in the next moment the beast launched itself over Apollo, straight toward him. This was it. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for death.
But it never came.
Emmet felt something brush past him and heard the creature howl in confusion and rage. He opened his eyes to find Yaha and the beast grappling with each other a few feet away from him.
Yaha wrapped his arms around the creature’s body, and they tumbled to the floor. The old man cried out in agony when the creature sank its fangs into his shoulder, but he didn’t let go.
Apollo charged into the fray. He sank his own teeth into the cat’s hind leg and bit down hard. The creature yelped in pain, and Yaha yanked his shoulder free when it opened its mouth. It flicked its leg and tried to shake Apollo free, but the little mutt would not give in. If anything, Apollo seemed to bite down harder. Yaha leapt in, trying to pin its jaws shut with his bare hands. Emmet may have been ticked off at him a few minutes ago, but he had to admit Calvin’s uncle had courage.
Dr. Geaux yelled at Emmet to move. Now he did, rushing forward to grab Apollo. He grasped the dog around his body and pulled, but he still would not let go.
“No, Emmet! Back up!” he heard her shout.
“Emmet, no! Run!” someone else yelled. Possibly his dad. But he couldn’t leave his dog. It was all he could think of. The thought of saving Apollo had broken Emmet’s paralysis.
“Apollo! OFF!” Emmet shouted. But the schnoodle was nearly mad with rage. Yaha was taking a beating. The creature was clawing and biting him as he tried to stay on top of it, pinning it to the ground. Dr. Geaux appeared in Emmet’s line of vision. She had her sidearm out and pointed it at the beast, but couldn’t shoot because she might hit Yaha.
Emmet’s dad was suddenly next to him, trying to help pry Apollo loose. The beast itself was in a fury, and it kicked out with one leg. Its claws raked across Dr. Doyle’s chest. Emmet’s dad screamed in pain.
“Dad!” Emmet hollered as his dad slumped to the ground, blood seeping from his chest.
In the interim, the creature managed to flip Yaha off him. The old man flew into the dining room, sending the table and chairs crashing in all directions. Emmet was pretty sure he was unconscious. The rug around him was covered in blood. Apollo let go, and Emmet fell backward onto his rear end, with Apollo clutched in his arms. He was still wiggling, snarling, and barking, trying desperately to get back into the battle.
With Yaha thrown off, the creature leapt at Dr. Geaux before she could react and bit down hard on her arm. She yelled in agony, and the gun fell free, spinning away from her. Emmet tried to scramble to his feet. Everyone needed his help. But the creature’s head snapped around when he moved. It started toward him, and he squeezed Apollo tighter.
Emmet couldn’t stand. He tried to scrabble backward. The strange beast took its time now. It stared at him and sniffed the air, growling. There was nothing but empty space between them. Nothing Emmet could use as a weapon, or anything to hide behind. It slowly stalked toward him. Apollo was still barking, and all Emmet could think to do was shout and holler, trying to keep it away. Closer and closer it came, until its mouth and jaw were just a few feet away. One jump, and it would be upon him. Emmet glanced frantically around for any escape. There was no way out.
In all the chaos, and his extreme desire to not get eaten, Emmet had forgotten all about Calvin. He shouldn’t have. He heard a weird whooshing sound and the creature’s face instantly turned snow-white.
Emmet’s mind couldn’t process what was happening, but the genetic freak growled and shook its head, trying to clear its eyes. But more white stuff came flying from behind him. The beast stood frozen in place, unsure of what had happened to it.
A gunshot sounded, startling the creature and causing
Emmet to scream loudly. Emmet glanced over to find that Dr. Geaux had pulled herself across the floor to her weapon and was now sitting up with one arm hanging limply at her side. There was an ugly trail of blood behind her. She fired into the air again, and Calvin gave the beast another blast of whatever he was using. Some kind of magic monster repellent. Whatever it was caused the creature to turn and sprint out the door. Dr. Geaux fired one more shot at it, but she must’ve missed. Calvin flew past Emmet, holding a can of wasp-and-hornet spray. He kept pulling the trigger as he ran through the door.
“Calvin! No!” Emmet heard Dr. Geaux shout. But she had nothing left and slumped backward to the floor. Emmet was certain she was unconscious. He struggled to his knees, still holding the squirming Apollo. Calvin reappeared in the doorway.
“It’s gone,” he said. Emmet released Apollo, who charged to his dad, lying still and motionless on the ground. He licked at his face, whining, as if begging him to wake up.
Calvin was calling 9-1-1 on the house phone. Emmet heard him ask for police and an ambulance. There were three badly injured people in the room, and Emmet didn’t know which one to help first.
Dr. Geaux looked like she was in worse shape than his dad, and Calvin was already headed to his uncle’s side. Emmet crawled across the floor to Dr. Geaux. Her arm was bleeding badly and her eyes were closed. He peeled off the polo shirt he was wearing and pressed it against her wounded arm.
His dad groaned and tried to sit up.
“Dad, be still,” Emmet said. “You’re injured.”
Calvin knelt beside his uncle Yaha. From the look of things, he was in the worst shape of all three. His blood was everywhere. Calvin glanced up at Emmet.
“Wasp spray?” Emmet asked.
“We always keep a can in the kitchen closet,” he said.
“Of course you do,” Emmet said.
The sirens grew louder as they drew nearer. The boys got busy trying to keep everyone alive.
Ultimate Attack Page 4
