“There’s a lot that tiny brain of his can do.”
Maria cut the wheel to avoid a small boulder. The right tire clipped the rock and the front end rose up a few inches then slammed back down. “Sorry about that,” Maria apologized.
“That’s all right,” Camilla said. “Just watch you don’t squish Astuto.”
The troll stopped dead in his tracks directly in front of the truck causing Maria to stomp on the brakes. The hood loomed over the small figure. “Oh no! Tell me, tell me I didn’t...”
Astuto scampered back into the light, following the trail into the desert.
“Thank God,” Maria gasped.
“Drive, drive or we’ll lose him,” Camilla said, waving her hand.
Maria tromped on the accelerator.
They soon saw Astuto but this time he wasn’t alone. He was confronting four hideous creatures twice his size huddled around a person on the ground.
“Oh my God,” Maria screamed. “It’s Sophia!” Maria knew the creatures were chupacabras from pictures she had seen in one of Miguel’s cryptid journals. They were the creepiest things she had ever seen.
“Stay with the truck,” Camilla said, throwing open her door. She hopped out with the 10-guage shotgun.
Astuto waved his knife back and forth to scare away the chupacabras.
A creature lunged at the troll.
Astuto leaped in the air, grabbing the chupacabra by the shoulder, and swung himself onto its back. Like a warrior in the heat of battle, the troll stabbed the creature repeatedly in the neck with a series of quick jabs, riding the dying bloodsucker all the way to the ground.
Camilla strode up to a chupacabra and fired both barrels. The thing exploded like a piñata blown to pieces by an M-80.
Two chupacabras hovered over Sophia.
Maria screamed at the creatures. She slammed the horn with the heel of her hand and gunned the engine until it roared like a ferocious beast.
* * *
Miguel saw the approaching headlights. He heard Sophia shouting in the dark as the chattering chupacabras dragged her through the brush.
He ran, stumbling over rocks buried in the sand, but stayed on his feet. He knew he had only two rounds left in the Winchester so he needed to make each shot count.
He could see a small crowd of creatures in the beam of light, circling around something on the ground—Sophia.
Miguel brought the rifle up to shoot but decided against firing as he was afraid he might hit his daughter. The approaching vehicle sounded familiar. He glanced over and saw that it was his truck. Maria and Camilla had found them.
A creature screeched. Miguel watched a small figure riding on a chupacabra’s back like a tiny bull rider and stabbing the hell out of it. “Good job, Astuto,” he shouted.
Miguel heard a loud blast and saw Camilla standing with the short barrel shotgun.
That’s when the truck’s horn blared and the engine revved.
Miguel dashed across the sand. He fired into the air hoping it would be enough to scare away the creatures. Most of them took off running but a few stood their ground.
Another loud blast and a chupacabra was cut in half by Camilla’s scattergun. She ran over to where Astuto was standing over Sophia, waving his knife like a tiny swashbuckler fighting back a bunch of scallywag pirates.
With only one bullet left, Miguel levered it into the chamber. He picked the closest chupacabra and shot it squarely in the chest. The barrel was still hot but he grabbed it anyway and used the rifle as a club to beat a chupacabra over the head until it could no longer stand.
Camilla got Sophia to her feet.
Miguel swung the Winchester as more creatures appeared and the rifle slipped out of his hands. He turned and ran for the truck.
The cab light was on, the passenger door open.
“Hurry, get inside!” Miguel shouted to Camilla and Sophia.
A chupacabra leaped inside the truck’s cab.
Maria turned and put her hands up to fend off the snarling creature, its teeth gnashing at her fingers. She screamed and reached back with her left hand, fumbling for the door handle. The vicious bloodsucker slammed her head against the side window.
“No!” Miguel yelled, racing toward the open door. He reached in, grabbed the chupacabra by a hind foot, and yanked the thing out of the truck. As soon as it hit the ground, Miguel raised his boot and stomped down on its ugly face, killing it instantly.
He scrambled inside the cab.
Maria stared up at the headliner, her eyes vacant; the back of her head resting on the spider-webbed glass splattered with her blood.
31
MAD RUSH
Miguel drove like a mad man; Maria slumped against Camilla pressed against the passenger door, Sophia sobbing in the back seat. The truck bounced over the rough terrain, mowing down cacti, and flattening brush. He knew if he wasn’t careful he would drive them straight into a ravine but he was desperate to get Maria to the emergency clinic.
“How far is it to the main road?” Miguel asked his mother.
“Maybe five, six miles,” Camilla answered, holding on as they were jostled about in the cab.
“How’s she doing?”
Camilla leaned over so she could see Maria’s face. “Still unconscious.”
“But she’s breathing, right?” Miguel said in a panic.
“Papa, is Momma going to die?” Sophia asked, tears running down her cheeks.
Miguel had been so consumed with his driving he had completely forgotten about his daughter. “No, Sophia!” Miguel shouted, and then felt bad for yelling at her. “She is not going to die. Momma will be fine.” He shot a glance over at his mother but he could tell by her expression she was skeptical.
Something hit the back window. Miguel glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Astuto flailing about in the truck bed. He looked like a drunken sailor stumbling on a ship’s deck in a rough sea. The truck took a hard bump and nearly threw the troll out of the truck.
“Miguel, look out!” Camilla screamed.
Miguel gazed back at the windshield and saw an outcrop of rock straight ahead. He slammed on the brakes, cutting the wheel but it was too late. The front end catapulted over the raised bedrock and the truck soared in the air.
“Hold on!” Miguel yelled.
The vehicle came down, landing bumper first, the right front tire bursting on the sharp rock.
Miguel looked over his shoulder. “Sophia, are you hurt?”
“No, Poppa. I had my seatbelt on.”
“Good girl.” Miguel turned to his mother.
“We’re okay.” Camilla said, her left arm tightly wrapped around Maria.
They heard frantic pounding on the back window. Astuto was hitting the glass with his tiny fists and yelling obscenities that only he understood.
“Quiet!” Camilla shouted. The troll hung his head, stalked off to the back of the truck, and jumped out.
Miguel drove on for a short distance but it was obvious they weren’t going to get much further with a flat tire. “We must be close to the house,” he said.
“It’s not far,” Camilla said.
Miguel climbed out of the truck. Camilla scooted Maria across the seat and Miguel scooped her up in his arms. Camilla got out on the passenger side and helped Sophia out of the cab.
Taking the lead, Camilla held the flashlight in one hand, Sophia’s hand in the other while Miguel followed behind carrying Maria.
“How far is the medical clinic from your house?” Miguel asked. He could see the blood from Maria’s head wound on his upper sleeve.
“About ten miles once you get to the main road,” Camilla answered.
“Does your phone work because I was having trouble getting a signal?”
“No.”
“Then I hope you got gas in your truck,” Miguel said.
Camilla stopped, and turned to her son. “Miguel that truck hasn’t run in over a year.”
“Then how the hell are we going to get Maria to this medical
clinic?” Miguel snapped.
“I don’t know.”
32
TELLTALE IMAGE
After Monroe had collected Macy’s body from the convenience store and Ben had spent an hour talking with the criminologists, Ben decided to run home before following up at the Coroner’s Office. Already dark, Ben anticipated a long evening.
When he walked in the front door, he called out, “Vera! I’m home!” He strolled through the living room and into the kitchen thinking she might be in there. He went straight for the fridge and grabbed a bottled water. Chugging it half down, he put the plastic bottle on the counter, and went down the hall to the bedroom. He stood at the threshold and gazed about the room but Vera was nowhere to be seen.
He went back through the house and opened the door leading into the two-car garage. Vera’s Jeep was gone. “Where did you get off to?” he muttered to himself. She hadn’t mentioned having to go out. He knew she traveled once a month up to Albuquerque but that wasn’t for another two weeks.
Or was it?
He couldn’t remember.
Even so, she always left a note as half the time Ben was so distracted with his own work that he often had a memory lapse when it came to keeping track of his wife’s often busy schedule. He went into the kitchen and checked the small writing table by the sliding glass doors where she usually left notes for him.
The writing surface was bare except for a blank notepad and a pen.
He went into her studio. As soon as he walked into the room, he noticed that none of the easels had canvases, which meant that Felix had come earlier and packed them up.
Ben was about to leave the room when he noticed Vera’s camera on the table. He thought it unusual because she never left the house without it. She always told him that she never knew when she might see something breathtaking that needed to be captured on film so she could later transfer it onto a canvas.
He had an uneasy feeling. He took out his cell phone and tried to give her a call knowing she would see the caller ID and answer. Normally she would pick up on the second or third ring but instead he got her voicemail. He tried again and got no response.
He stepped over to the table and picked up the camera. It was a digital Canon with a long photo lens and a viewing screen on the back face. He turned on the camera and scrolled through the images, recognizing most of the terrain.
Near the end were pictures of the same plant, a tall lechugilla cactus, taken from various angles. Ben didn’t remember seeing a painting of it in Vera’s studio, which meant she hadn’t started it yet, and might explain where she might be.
He brought the camera into his office. Standing by his desk, he scrolled through the images until he found a photo of the mouth of a box canyon taken before the pictures of the lechugilla.
Ben gazed at the large topography map of the Chihuahua Desert hanging on the wall next to his framed achievement awards and diplomas. He traced his finger along the paper looking for a natural feature and a low elevation that would suggest a canyon.
He found a narrow sliver and gauged the distance on the scale below.
If he was correct, Vera was a good hour’s drive away. He made a notation of the exact longitude and latitude and typed the GPS location into his phone, as it would be impossible to utilize natural landmarks to guide him in the dark.
For all he knew, Vera might be on her way back and wasn’t picking up her phone because she was driving.
Or maybe, she had broken down on the road and was stranded.
Either way, he had to be sure.
Damn it Vera, don’t you know I have enough to worry about.
33
BUTTING HEADS
Roxy raced up the cement stairs to the second floor and pounded on Ethan and Kane’s apartment door. When no one answered, she tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. She pushed open the door and stepped into the shabby living room. The place was a shambles; dirty clothes strewn across a couch and an armchair with stuffing jutting out where the fabric was ripped; empty beer bottles and discarded takeout containers on the coffee table.
“Damn it, Ethan! Where are you?” Roxy yelled, kicking a boot across the carpet.
“Hey, hey,” Ethan said, coming out of his room. He wore a wrinkly pair of boxer shorts and looked like he had just woken up.
“Why did you do it?”
“What are you talking about?” Ethan grimaced, nursing a hangover.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Roxy shouted.
“You mean the bar? What was I supposed to do, the jack-off pulled a knife.”
“Wait. What happened at the bar?”
Ethan collapsed on the couch. “We had a little trouble. We took care of it.”
“I’m talking about Macy.”
“What about her? She didn’t get hurt.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Macy’s dead.”
Ethan sat up straight on the couch. “What?”
“That’s why I was reaming you on the phone.”
“But why didn’t you tell me then? I had no idea why you were mad.”
“Because I wanted to see your face when you denied it,” Roxy said. “How could you do it?”
“I would never hurt Macy, you know that. I love her.”
Roxy paced about the room. “Shit, shit! Damn it, Ethan. How many times have I told you to keep it under control?”
“But I didn’t kill her,” Ethan said.
“How do I know? Each time, you swear you don’t remember what happened.”
“Then arrest me.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Take me in.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because this isn’t just all about you, that’s why,” Roxy said.
“Take me in, Roxy.” Ethan stood up and put his hands out in front of him for Roxy to throw on the handcuffs.
“No!”
“What, do I have to give you a reason?” Ethan thrust out his right arm and punched Roxy in the shoulder, catapulting her across the room, and slamming her against the wall.
Roxy slid down onto the floor. She glared up at Ethan. “Don’t, I’m warning you.”
Ethan curled his upper lip.
Roxy could see the fangs jut out of his mouth. The whites of his eyes yellowed and his pupils narrowed into slits. Coarse black hair emerged out of his human skin, covering his body with a mat of short fur. Ethan’s nose elongated into a long snout and his ears sprouted out from the sides of his head as his bones cracked and his body went through its transformation. His nails became thick, extending out from his fingertips into lethal claws.
Standing upright, Ethan’s animal-self was a crossbreed of lupine and wolverine.
Roxy stared at the abomination that only seconds ago had been her brother. She knew her gun would be useless and regular bullets couldn’t stop him. If he came at her, there was a way to kill him. She prayed he still had some presence of mind. “Stay here and don’t you leave.” She backed across the room and slowly opened the front door.
Ethan watched her intently.
Stepping outside, Roxy closed the door behind her. She could hear Ethan on the other side of the door, snarling as he tore up the place.
Roxy ran down the stairs. She climbed into the Mustang and drove out of the parking lot.
34
INCENDIARY DUD
Ben kept trying to reach Vera on the phone while he drove but wasn’t successful. Finally, he gave up and returned the display back to the GPS app tracking the location of the box canyon. He gazed out through the windshield at the desert ahead, brightly lit up by the Tahoe’s high beams and the halogen spotlights on the roof rack. If his hunch was correct, finding Vera wouldn’t be a problem.
Glancing down at the tiny screen on his phone, he could see that he was almost there. But when he looked up, his heart sank. He slammed on the brakes short of colliding with the barrier of rocks blocking the entrance to the canyon.
“Now what?” Ben let the engine idle as he contemplated what he should do. It was obvious she hadn’t gone this way. “Damn!” Frustrated, Ben slammed the center of the steering wheel and the horn blared. He was about to grab the gearshift and put the Tahoe in reverse, when he heard a car horn answer back.
Ben hit the horn again.
This time the reply was a series of blasts.
“Thank God,” Ben said. He turned off the engine, grabbed a flashlight, and got out of his vehicle. He shined his light on the rocks and began to climb. Once he reached the top, he could see Vera’s Jeep below on the other side. He panned the beam on her rear window and could see her sitting up front in the cab.
“Hey! Are you all right?” he called out. He directed the light on the rocks in front of him so he wouldn’t step wrong and fall. While he was busy looking at his feet, he could hear something flying above his head.
The driver’s-side door on the Jeep flew open. Vera stepped out and yelled, “Ben! Look out!” She pointed up at the night sky.
Ben leaned back and shined the flashlight straight up.
The sudden glare caught the hideous creature by surprise. Hovering only ten feet above Ben’s head, it looked like a demonic gargoyle with massive teeth and four pointy-clawed feet. Shaking its head, it shrieked and flew off to escape the bright light. But it wasn’t alone because Ben could hear the echoing of fluttering wings bouncing off the canyon walls.
He rushed down the rocks. Slipping, he fell, but got right up. He yelled to Vera, “Get back in,” and when she crossed over to the passenger seat, he jumped in and shut the door.
And not a second too soon as a creature slammed into the side window, cracking the glass.
“What happened?” Ben said. “Did you run out of gas?”
“No! I didn’t run out of gas,” Vera replied, indignantly. “There’s a hole in the oil pan. And what the hell are those things?”
“I think they’re chupacabras. Once in a while we’d get a call, a rancher or camper claiming they’d seen one of these creatures but I always thought it was someone pulling a prank. I can’t believe these things really exist.”
Cryptid Frontier (Cryptid Zoo Book 7) Page 12
