Alex Finch: Monster Hunter

  Like I was being stalked by a green-eyed monster. Yeah--that would go over well.

  I explained away the limp with another lie--that I twisted it in dance class. A dance class I didn't actually have, since I was out for the season.

  I limped up to my room, with Dad's help, after he convinced Mom I was fine, just on information overload. Now that one was true. Absolutely.

  He brushed his hand over my hair. "Can I do anything?"

  I lowered myself to the bed, looked up at Dad, his arms crossed, worry in his eyes. I tried for a smile. It didn't work. "Not really. I just need to sleep. Right after I call Sam."

  "No, Alex." My hand paused over my cell phone. "If you call him tonight, he'll just go after the thing himself. Am I wrong?"

  I rubbed my face. "I wish you were. I have to tell him, Dad. His parents might know what it is. Sam might even know. Even if they don't, they need to be warned." I clutched the edge of the bed as my muscles finally unclenched, letting me know loud and clear how much I ached, everywhere. "Where did you get a shotgun?"

  He smiled, not surprised by my question. He was obviously waiting for it. "I bought it after one of the work sites was vandalized. I keep it in my truck, just in case. I have a permit for it, Alex, so stop worrying."

  "And you know how to use it?"

  "Weekly sessions at the police academy firing range."

  Wow--how did I miss this militant side of my own dad? Not that I was complaining. He came roaring out of the darkness like the cavalry, just when I needed him.

  "You heard the--creature scream," I said, searching for a way to say the next words without panicking myself. "Why didn't any of the neighbors? They should have been converging like rabid paparazzi. But there was nothing."

  He pushed off the door frame, came and sat next to me on the bed. "I want you out of this. Tonight was it for you, do you hear me?" He shocked me when he punched the bed, so hard I bounced off the mattress. Then he grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. "You scared the hell out of me tonight. I was afraid I wouldn't get to you in time. I don't ever want to feel that helpless again. Do you understand?" He leaned back, meeting my eyes. "You tell Sam tomorrow that you are out. Give him what information you think he should have, then walk away."

  The thought of walking away from Sam hurt like a blow to my heart. "Dad--"

  "I know how much you care about him, Alex. But he is up to his neck in whatever's going on, and I don't want you anywhere near it."

  "So--you're forbidding me from seeing someone I consider a friend. Forbidding me."

  "Got it in one."

  "What if I say no?"

  Dad stood, marching to the door. "Then we can talk about a nice, long grounding."

  "What?" I had never been grounded. Never. I wasn't stupid enough to do something that would even get me there. Not with dance class, and the sense of freedom I enjoyed. "You can't--"

  "If it keeps you safe, Alex, I can, and I will. Now get ready for bed. Mom is making up a tray for you, since we both missed dinner. I'll have your car towed tomorrow, the tires replaced."

  "Dad--"

  "This discussion is over, young lady."

  He closed the door after him. I stared at it, stunned, still trying to let what just happened compute.

  I had to tell Sam I couldn't see him anymore, or I would be grounded.

  I actually had to say the word grounded out loud.

  I couldn't tell Sam--it hurt just to think about. How would I actually get the words to come out of my mouth?

  I fell face down on the bed, and groaned at the contact. I knew I would be bruised from my desperate flight. My ankle throbbed in agreement. Right now I wanted to crawl under my comforter and forget, just for a few hours.

  Forget that I would have to shut Sam out of my life. Forever.

  ~

  My aches kept waking me up. I finally stopped trying to sleep about three a.m., since all the restless moving made my body ache more.

  Easing out of bed, every movement stiff, I limped over to my desk and sat, picking up the grilled cheese sandwich Mom made for me. It was cold, but tasty.

  The first bite brought my appetite roaring back. I finished off the sandwich, then started on the family size bag of salt and vinegar chips, my favorite. Mom left a big bottle of water to go with them. The food revived me, and though I still hurt every time I moved, it was bearable.

  The food also jumpstarted my brain. Which meant I wouldn't be getting any more sleep.

  Going with a thought that had been poking at me since the surprising discovery of Hyattown, I wheeled my chair over to my laptop, Red, and booted her up. I opened a search window, typed in folklore, and let the search run while I opened another window. This time I searched urban legends. In a third window I searched mythical creatures. Then I started opening sites, and comparing.

  Running a program that grabbed specific keywords off the open sites, I let it extract while I read about golems, the real Bloody Mary, Sasquatch, the Jersey Devil--along with the usual suspects that fill horror stories.

  Buried in the myths and stories, I started to find common threads, coincidences that wouldn't let me go. I started printing relevant pages, sorting them into piles. By the time I finished, the program had spit out its results, and it was close to six a.m.

  I didn't need to export the information to tell me what I already found, but I did it, creating a simple Excel spreadsheet. Just to have, in case.

  All the possible answers I had hoped to heaven weren't there sat in front of me, in neat piles. Undisputable, and if I was right, a whole ream of bad news.

  13

  I limped through the halls at school the next day, my ankle wrapped and hurting, the rest of me seriously sore. My hoodie hid most of the bruises, and borrowing some of Mom's mineral powder helped blur the marks on my face from tripping over the tree root. I didn't notice that damage until I looked in the bathroom mirror this morning. Trying to cover it up made me late to school.

  And I also got a reprieve; Sam was out for the day. What I didn't brace myself for was Misty's exuberant greeting. In the cafeteria, in the middle of lunch. I thought her fellow cheerleaders were going to faint from embarrassment.

  "Alex! Over here!" She waved madly from her table, like I couldn't see her from three feet away. "Come and sit with us!"

  She didn't give me much choice, inviting me in front of half the school. I carried my tray over, setting it down in front of the only empty chair. The girls on either side scooted their chairs away. Nice welcome.

  "Thanks for the invite, Misty, but I'm not really up for conversation."

  I picked up my tray and turned around, no longer caring that everyone stared at me as I limped past. Yes, I wanted to shout, the techno geek stood up the cheerleader, ruined her chance at the populars table. Get over it.

  I heard Misty whisper loudly to her friends, and then the scrape of a chair. Fabulous--she was following me.

  "Alex!" I kept going, dumping my untouched lunch in the trash can at the door and dropping my tray on the table next to it before I hobbled out of the cafeteria. Stepping into the intersecting hallway, I waited. "Alex, I wanted to . . . Alex?" Her bouncing steps echoed in the empty hallway. "Where did you--"

  "Here." I stepped out behind her, and watched her jump at my voice. She spun, her long blonde hair whipping around her. "What do you want, Misty?"

  "To make sure you were okay, after--you know."

  "And you were going to ask me that, in front of your friends."

  "No--I was going to have a polite conversation, and observe. You screwed up that idea, with a flourish." Her sarcasm startled a laugh out of me. Misty smiled; it faded as she took my arm, and pushed me into the nearest classroom, closing the door to give us privacy. "Look--I know you don't think I'm the brightest bulb, but I'm not stupid."

  "I realized that some time ago."

  Surprise flared in her sky blue eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. I guessed it was probably the first time in her school career
that someone told her to her face she was smart. Stereotypes can really suck. "I, um," she cleared her throat, still obviously overwhelmed by my comment. "I also wanted to let you know why Sam isn't here today."

  Dread shot through me. "Why?"

  "Nothing bad--I didn't mean to scare you. His mom had to go in for some x-rays, so he took her to the medical center in Irvine. He left a text on my phone."

  And not on mine. That hurt, squeezing my already vulnerable heart.

  "Thanks for letting me know. I have to get to class, so I'll--"

  "You really do like him, don't you?"

  I froze at the door. How I wished it was only like. "It doesn't matter. If you talk to him, tell him I . . ." Swallowing, I forced the next words out. "Tell him I don't want to see him anymore."

  I yanked the door open and limp-ran down the hall, heading for the front door. I had to get out of here, before I started crying in front of everyone.

  "Oh, no you don't." Misty grabbed my arm. I fought her, but I didn't have the strength, not after last night. She took me where I wanted to go anyway--out the door and to the parking lot. "You may be fabulous at everything else you try, but you are a lousy liar."

  I stared at her. Until we were forced to work together, she barely knew I existed. Didn't she?

  Before my common sense could stop me, I blurted out what happened last night. Misty listened, holding my hand tight when the tears started.

  Now that I had distance, the absolute terror of the chase shook me to the core. At the time all I could think about was getting away. That single focus probably--no, it saved my life. Period.

  Once I finished, Misty led me over to her car and tucked me in the passenger seat. She joined me, sliding behind the wheel, and starting the car. "Wait," I cleared my throat, wiping at the tears blurring my eyes. "Where are you--"

  "Sam."

  "No--" Panic flared through the emotional tangle. "I can't--"

  "He needs to know, Alex." Misty's firm voice dropped my jaw. She sounded like someone in charge. Maybe this was the kicking butt and taking names tone she used with the cheerleading squad. It certainly got my attention. "If Jake isn't the only monster out there, Sam needs to be warned, since his family is neck deep in this mess. And I can't believe I just uttered a sentence with the word monster in it." She flashed me one of her brilliant smiles. "Being friends with you is never boring."

  "Friends?" I think my voice may have squeaked.

  "You think I'm spending time with you, trying to have lunch with you, and introducing you to my friends because we're working on a stupid project together?" That was exactly what I thought. "You're the coolest girl I've ever hung out with. You're wicked smart, funny, and though you seriously lack in the style department," I tugged self-consciously on my hoodie, "you don't follow just to belong. I really admire that."

  "I--wow." I didn't know what to say.

  "I never told you this," she turned on to the road that would take us out of town, and straight to Sam's house. "But you were so focused when we were attacked in the McGinty house. I seriously expected to be torn into messy little bits, but you just kept moving, kept fighting back. I think you startled it--Jake, just as much."

  "I just . . ." My voice faded as Sam's voice echoed in my head. You have good instincts, you can think under pressure, and you have the fastest reflexes I've seen in a long time. "I just wanted to get us out of there--preferably with all our body parts intact."

  She pulled over, and turned to me. "Don't you ever watch horror movies? The gorgeous blonde always screams like a complete bubble head and gets eaten. The smart girl figures out how to make a weapon from string and a toothpick. You're the smart girl in this movie, Alex."

  I rubbed my face. This conversation felt like something out of, well, a movie. Absolutely surreal. "We got ourselves out, Misty. You found the weapon--"

  "And you hauled off and beat on that hairy nightmare. I almost had heart failure when I saw you running at that thing. What I'm trying to tell you is you and Sam are that whole yin-yang thing--"

  "If you say he completes me I'm going to punch you."

  Misty laughed, clapping her hands. "That's what I like about you--funny and smart." She pulled back on to the road, and turned in at Sam's driveway, stopping near the front door. "You are going to go in there, tell him what happened."

  "But--" I scrambled for a way out of this. "You said he was in Irvine--"

  "This morning." She pointed to the SUV in front of their garage. Sam's SUV.

  "My dad told me I can't play monster anymore--"

  "Did he say never speak to Sam again, as long as you live?"

  "No, but--"

  "Did he say you could tell Sam about what happened last night, so he knows what steps to take?"

  "Yes."

  "Any more excuses?"

  I let out a sigh. "Not at the moment."

  She pointed at the door. "Go. Sam can drive you home." When I hesitated, she moved her hand to my shoulder. "I've known Sam all my life, and you're the first girl he ever looked at, or talked about, as more than just a friend."

  "He--what? Really?" If my mind wasn't already in panic mode, that did it.

  She smiled at me. "Go."

  I got out of the car, so nervous I had to remind myself to breathe. And forgot to do even that when I saw Sam standing at the open front door.

  "Hi, Alex."

  Speaking forced me to breathe again. I sucked one in, felt like a complete idiot when I started choking. Instead of pounding on my back, Sam helped me sit on the front step, and waited for me to catch my breath.

  "Hey, Sam," Misty leaned across the passenger seat. "Can you take Alex home? I have to get back to school."

  "Sure."

  Of course, she asked him while I was incapacitated, so I couldn't argue. With a wave she took off, leaving me alone with him.

  "Sam, you don't have to--"

  "It's not a problem. Come on in, and I'll get you some water."

  He pulled me to my feet, letting me go after he led me inside, and left me in the living room. It gave me time to compose myself, as much as I possibly could around Sam. It seemed the only time I didn't feel clumsy and stupid around him was when we were in danger. Or talking about Jake. Terrific basis for a relationship.

  He came back with a glass of water. "Sit down, Alex. You look exhausted." Waiting until I sank to the sofa, he handed me the glass, and sat in the chair across from me. "What are you doing here?"

  "I--something happened last night." I told him, staring at my clenched hands. I kept talking, even when he sucked in his breath at my description of what stalked me. I just wanted to get it out and never have to say anything about it ever again. "I wanted you to know, so you won't be blindsided if it decides to show . . ."

  My voice faded to nothing as Sam jumped over the coffee table and hauled me to my feet. "It didn't hurt you, did it? Don't lie to me, Alex. This is my fault--"

  "I'm bruised, from rolling around on the sidewalk, and I twisted my ankle. I'm okay--my dad got to me in time." I still shuddered at how close it had been. "And why is it your fault? We were looking for Jake."

  "I should have been looking. On my own." He obviously just realized he was all but embracing me, because he let go so fast I fell against the sofa. "I'm taking you home, and you are out of it. I couldn't stand it if you were hurt--"

  He cut himself off and stalked out of the living room. I should have been relieved; he just made all of it easy for me. Instead, it felt like an invisible fist was squeezing my heart.

  Before I had time to recover he reappeared, car keys in hand. I pushed off the sofa and followed him, trying not to limp. He already beat himself up enough because of me. I obviously didn't hide it well enough; once we reached his SUV, he turned around and lifted me up into the passenger seat.

  I stared out my window as he got in, started up the engine, and backed in a half circle, facing us toward the long driveway. "I'm sorry, Alex." The despair in his quiet voice tightened my th
roat. "For everything."

  He punched the gas, and we flew down the driveway, slowing just enough for him to check for cross traffic before he swerved out on to the main road. I clutched the door handle, watched him speed up, like every thought pushed his foot harder on the gas pedal.

  "Sam." I kept my voice as level as possible. "Sam, you need to--"

  "I'm not going to let you talk me out of this. You've already been hurt enough--"

  "You're doing ninety."

  He glanced down at the speedometer, and let out a muttered curse, slowing so abruptly the uber sensitive seatbelt snapped me back against the seat. I waited, trying not to breathe, until our speed stabilized and I could loosen it.

  "I'm sorry--are you okay?"

  "I'm fine--" I let out a gasp when the seatbelt rubbed against a bruise on my ribs. Sam cursed again and jerked the wheel, bouncing us on to the ridged dirt alongside the road. I held on, jaw clenched as every ache protested. Loudly. "Ouch--"

  "Sorry--God, I'm such an idiot." He eased the SUV to a halt, turned to face me. "You didn't tell me how badly you got banged up."

  "I didn't want you blaming yourself for that as well." I freed myself from the seatbelt and turned toward Sam. "Whatever came after me last night had nothing to do with you. It just showed up, or was already here, and followed me from the sewers, or the deserted town. We never explored Misty's question about who that safe haven was for. Maybe last night was the answer--shoved violently in our faces, but the answer."

  All the color drained out of his face. "You think my ancestors left that place intact as a monster haven?"

  "Not that exactly--but a place for people who didn't fit anywhere else, or didn't belong anywhere else. Somewhere they knew they could go, where they wouldn't be molested for who they were."

  He crossed his arms. "Like monsters."

  "Fine, Mr. One Track Mind. Did you stop to think that maybe all the creatures finding safety there weren't evil, or carnivorous?"

  He studied me, his anger evaporating. "Go on."

  "I'm still working this out. I didn't get much sleep last night." Staring at my hands, because I really didn't want to see his ridicule, I threw out the theory that had kept me buried in research half the night. "What if it weren't all just stories? What if mythological creatures, and some of the urban legends, and folklore, all had a basis in fact?"