Alex Finch: Monster Hunter

  "Our little secret, sweetheart. Here, you're going to want this." He moved forward, and held out the bottle of orange juice. I snatched it out of his hand and backed across the kitchen. "Don't let him fool you, Alex. Sam's not just your average rich boy hunk. Hasn't been since the day he got slashed open."

  I nodded, and fled to the safety of the dining room.

  Sam looked better. At least his face had a little color. I handed him the orange juice and retreated, Jake's words echoing in my head. I wanted to trust Sam--had to trust him once we were underground.

  Dad crouched next to Sam. Candace stood on his other side, checking his pulse, and generally fussing over him. I decided to do something useful, instead of hovering like an unwanted groupie.

  Moving to the table, I studied the town plan, checking for possible exits, bolt holes, dead ends--anything that could work for us, or against us. The town itself was a nightmare of winding streets, and alleys that led nowhere. I just hoped the sewers weren't as bad.

  I pulled the map Katie gave me out of my back pocket and spread it out on the table.

  "Where did you get that?" Dad joined me, bending over the sewer map. "This is brilliant--it even shows the direction of the water flow." He looked at me. "Where did this come from?"

  "The little girl Jake saved? Her dad is John Hyatt. She had the map with her when we pulled her out of the sewer."

  "His family must have built the original sewers." Dad turned the map over. "Here--the cartographer's mark. I bet he was related to the Hyatts. We just might be able to do this."

  He took out one of the pencils he always kept on him and with Jake's input started making notes on the map. I wasn't as optimistic, but between the map and Jake, we might have a chance.

  ~

  Sam led us to the garage, and we stared in awe at the selection of weapons hanging on the wall. Sam opened one of the long cabinets underneath and pulled out six duffle bags. "Everything we need is here," he said. "It's been a long time since my parents had to--use anything, but they kept our supplies current and fresh. Just in case."

  He looked defeated, even before we started. I wanted to reassure him, but I wasn't all that sure of us at this point. The one who surprised me was Misty.

  "Come on--we have kids to find, and some monster ass to kick!" She bounced over to the cabinets, patting Sam's cheek. "Smile, Sam. We're the good guys."

  "Okay." I limped over to her. I was going to have to do something about my ankle before we left. "Who are you and where did you bury the real Misty?"

  She laughed, and started looking through the cabinets, pulling out enough supplies to last a week. "We need to be prepared for anything down there." She glanced at me, then at Dad, lowering her voice. "How's the ankle?"

  "It'll do."

  "Have Candace look at it. She'll fix you up, without letting your dad know."

  "Thanks." It ached, in a way that wouldn't let me ignore it anymore.

  "Is it . . ." Misty's gaze found her sister. "Is it freaking you out that Candace, um, likes Jake?"

  Misty certainly looked freaked out. I honestly didn't know what to think. Jake had become less of a bad guy the more I got to know him, but he still scared me.

  I shrugged, hoping it would be enough for her. I wanted to kiss Dad for interrupting at that moment. "Everyone has their own supplies, in case we get separated. Five minutes until we go. Alex," he took my arm. "I need a minute."

  I tried not to limp as he guided me to the other end of the garage. I would have been fine if it weren't so stinking big.

  "I'm not staying behind, Dad. I'll follow you down if you don't--"

  "I would feel better if you stayed above ground, I won't lie about that. But I'd rather have you with me than sneaking after us, on your own. Now," he rubbed my back, his attempt to calm me welcome. "I want Candace to take a look at your ankle. You can sit in back with her." He slipped his arm around my waist. "I'd say letting you do this takes me out of the running for father of the year."

  I smiled. Coolest dad ever. Even though part of me did wish he'd forbid me to go.

  We loaded up with anything that could burn or create fire, along with a selection of weapons that, if we were stopped by police, would have us in jail before we could even try to explain. Candace grabbed the impressively stocked first aid kit, and the entire box of protein bars, along with enough water to keep us all floating.

  Sam started shoving the full duffle bags in his SUV. It still wore the battle scars from our last confrontation with the monster. I swallowed, pushed that image out of my mind.

  Candace paused next to me. "Sit with me, and I'll take a look at your ankle."

  I nodded, my ankle throbbing in response. I really didn't want to see it.

  "Let's get out of here," Sam said. He pulled the leather tie out of his hair and climbed into the driver's seat, so grim, like he was headed into his final battle. It hurt to see him like that.

  Candace helped me into the third row. Misty took shotgun before anyone could call it, leaving Dad and Jake in the second row, in front of us.

  "Can you lift your leg up?" I did, obviously impressing Candace with my flexibility. "Let me take a stab. Dancer?"

  "Since I was six."

  "It probably kept you from hurting yourself worse. I'm going to get this monstrosity you call a shoe off, and we'll see what we're dealing with." She eased off my motorcycle boot. I sucked in a harsh breath, nodded for her to keep going. My ace bandage hid most of the damage. "Not your first ankle twist."

  "Occupational hazard." I clenched my jaw, every touch inflaming my already irritated ankle. I cringed when she finished unwrapping it. The bruising was worse than I remembered.

  "Let me guess." Her clipped voice had me flinching. "No ice, and you've been walking on it since it was injured."

  "Um--not by choice. I've been a little preoccupied." I sounded defensive. I felt defensive. I usually took much better care of my injuries, learning from the example of dancers who didn't. "I don't normally--ouch--"

  "Sorry." Candace didn't sound the least bit sorry. "I'm going to rewrap it, and when we're done, we have a date with the x-ray tech. Got it?"

  I nodded, afraid of what might come out of my mouth if I opened it.

  "Hold still. This is going to hurt."

  "Candace?"

  "What is it, Finch?"

  I swallowed, finally saying it out loud. "I'm scared."

  She stopped, laid her hand on my calf. Her touch was warm, and more reassuring than I expected. "If you weren't, Alex, I'd be checking you to see if you lacked a brain. We're all in different stages of terrified, but we'll get through it, because we have each other to depend on."

  "Impressive bedside manner, Corwin." Jake's voice broke the silence. Both he and Dad watched us, twisted around in their seats. "You practice that in the mirror?"

  "Bite me, Jake."

  He grinned. "My pleasure."

  Candace snorted, but as she continued wrapping my ankle, I saw the smile hidden by her hair. She finished, and pulled an instant cold pack out of the kit, activating it before she set it on my ankle.

  "That stays until we get there. I'll help you with your poor choice of shoe wear," she said, stopping my protest. "I'm trying to undo damage and a short arrival time with everything I've got." She slapped a protein bar in my hand. "Eat that, while you can."

  I looked up, my heart skipping when I saw the familiar shops of downtown.

  We were almost there.

  19

  At night, the McGinty house looked like a haunted house--spooky, crumbling, and creaking in every breeze off the nearby ocean. Thank goodness the entrance was outside. I didn't think I could go in there again, at night, with Jake behind me.

  Sam kept driving, parking in a public lot down the street. The others unloaded while Candace helped me on with my boot. Not surprisingly, my foot swelled during its freedom, and getting it back in the heavy, inflexible leather boot proved to be a painful exercise. The tighter wrapping made it thro
b more, but I could walk on it without feeling like it was about to give way.

  I pushed it to the back of my mind and joined everyone in front of the SUV. Dad studied us while Sam passed out duffle bags, fighting a smile. "Try not to look like you're going into battle. It's Friday night, before Halloween."

  He didn't need to say any more. When Halloween fell on a weekend, the town partied. I always wondered about the seriously odd attachment to this holiday; some years it was bigger than Christmas. What hid under our feet made me think there was more to it than the fun of dressing up.

  Just how many people knew what happened ten years ago? I felt like I'd been walking around blind.

  I had to stop, before this gave me a headache. There was plenty of time to ask the big questions. After. And I really wanted there to be an after. For all of us.

  Dad seemed to sense me falling deeper into the murk of my thoughts. He slipped his arm around my waist and started moving, slow enough for me to keep pace. "How's my favorite girl?"

  "Terrified." Okay--didn't mean for that to pop out.

  "You're not alone this time, Alex. Remember that." He squeezed me, tight, then let go, moving to the head of our little pack. Too little to be facing the green-eyed Devil we were about to face.

  Dad's prediction wasn't far off. We ran into at least three parties along the street, and we were the ones who stood out, for our lack of costume.

  "Hey!" A seriously drunk pirate, who looked like one of the local surfers, with his sun-bleached hair and dark tan, stumbled over to Candace and tried to hug her. She sidestepped with a speed and efficiency that told me she'd had plenty of practice. My guess was she got that practice in college, dodging male med students. Tall blonde goddess equals hard to resist.

  Dad stepped in front of Jake before he could do something stupid. Jake looked furious, and more wolfish than usual. "We're late for our own party," Dad said.

  "Yeah? What're you going as--losers?"

  Dad grinned at him, tapping the shotgun pressed against his leg. "Monster hunters."

  "Whoa--dude." The surfer swayed forward. I waited for him to keep going, all the way to the sidewalk. He managed to catch his balance at the last second. "Is that thing real?"

  Dad winked at him, and started walking. "Halloween, my man," he said over his shoulder. "Time to believe in magic."

  The drunk surfer stared at us as we walked past him, then raised his glass, spilling beer down the front of his blousy white shirt. "Waste 'em, dudes!"

  Misty clapped one hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. Dad let his laughter float into the night. It lightened my fear, and seemed to have the same effect on everyone else. Except Sam.

  "Hey." Jake moved to him, bumped his shoulder. "Stop with the grim face, cousin. We know what we're walking into, and we have the advantage--she doesn't know we're coming. It's not all on you--"

  "It should be." Sam sounded angry. He stopped in front of the rusted wrought iron fence surrounding the McGinty house, and turned to face us. "This is my fight. My family made this bargain a long time ago, and you shouldn't be--"

  "Stop," I said. Before I could second guess myself, I moved to Sam. "This is about all of us now. The monster's out of the closet, and we have to shove it back in and lock the door. Us, Sam. All our families are at risk, and as scared as I am," I swallowed, kept going. "I can't walk away. I won't walk away."

  Misty stepped up next to me, draped her arm across my shoulders. "We're here because we want to be. Because it's the right thing to do. I don't get the chance to be a heroine every day, so I'm taking it. Now let's go find those kids."

  She took me with her as she headed for the gate. It was still open; from our last visit? Not many people hung out here, even around Halloween. "Hey, Alex?" I looked up at her, not surprised to see my own fear in her blue eyes. "Are we totally crazy to be doing this?"

  I nodded. "Totally."

  She swallowed, freeing her arm. "Just wanted to make sure I wasn't the only one on the crazy train." With her shoulders squared, she walked through the open gate and across the yard.

  I had to admire her, since I figured she had the same memories of our last time here racing through her mind. And the source was right behind us, joking with her sister. For at least the hundredth time, I forced myself not to think about what might happen if Jake changed.

  Dad caught up with me on the side of the house, and for the thousandth time I wished he wasn't part of this. Why did I pull him in? I could have found those plans on my own, found the sewers, the town, discovered the secrets of this place without him . . .

  The memory of his truck screaming around the corner filled my mind, him leaping out with his shotgun to fight off my stalker. I let out a shaky breath. I may not even be here without him. That still didn't make me any happier that he was here.

  He stopped all of us when we reached the entrance to the town below. "No heroics. We stick together. Our goal is to find those kids and get them out." He glanced at each one of us, pausing on Sam until he nodded. "Good. Now let's go get them."

  20

  We lowered the duffle bags into the dark, narrow hole first. Dad figured if something waited for us it would attack the first thing that appeared.

  When nothing happened, Dad went down, his flashlight beam a beacon, and a guide for each of us as we climbed the metal ladder. Jake insisted on going last, to cover our backs. Not exactly someone I wanted behind me, where I couldn't see him if he--

  I stopped that thought before it finished. There was no point. Not now, when we needed him to find our way to the nest.

  We agreed before we got here to talk as little as possible once underground, since our voices would carry, and take away the one advantage we had--surprise.

  I managed to get down the ladder without taking a header, my ankle screaming at me by the time I got to the bottom. Misty touched my hand, pressing the straps of my duffle against my fingers. I slung it over my shoulder, waited in the darkness, every nerve twitching.

  The main valve for the gaslights didn't work. Dad pulled me in, whispered against my ear. "I'm going next door. It's the mayor's office, and there should be a secondary, at least for this street. Pass the message."

  I didn't want him going anywhere alone, but I wanted to walk down here in complete darkness even less. Nodding, I stepped back, whispered to Misty. She nodded against my lips, and I felt her move away from me.

  Relief flooded out the rising panic when a low, flickering glow spread across the main street. Dad came back, gestured to Sam to put his hand on Dad's shoulder. I got what he wanted, and had Misty move in front of me, since she could see more than short me. The single line chain kept us together, and left one hand free for--whatever. Another thought I didn't want to finish.

  Because I was looking down, to keep from tripping on anything, I was the first person to see the lump in the middle of the main street. A lump that looked human.

  My fingers dug into Misty's shoulder. Dad halted, obviously seeing it now. He whispered to Sam, flashed me a smile, and headed for the lump. My heart jumped when he started running. He dropped to his knees, lowered both the shotgun and his duffle, and carefully turned the lump over.

  "Oh, God," Candace whispered. She pushed past me and ran to Dad, the first aid kit in her hand.

  When he reached up to take it from her, I saw what Candace must have guessed. The lump was a little boy.

  We all moved forward, crowding around the still figure. I covered my mouth when I recognized the blood splattered face. It was the boy from the photo on Mrs. Swiller's computer.

  Candace worked over him, revealing a series of long gashes on his chest. "They're shallow," she whispered, taking the gauze Dad held out for her.

  Dad laid a hand on her shoulder. "How long before we have to move him?"

  She checked his pulse, then the wounds again, her hands skimming over him, probably to see if there were other injuries. "He's good for the next few minutes. But not any longer than that." She looked at Dad, wait
ed until he nodded. "I'll stay with him."

  "I'm staying, too." Jake crouched down next to her. She started to object, and he just pressed his finger against her lips. "You need someone to watch your back while you take care of him." He pulled the sewer map out of his pocket, handed it to Dad. "The nest is big enough that you'll trip on it. I have to stay."

  Dad met Jake's eyes, and nodded. "We'll be as fast as we can. Give us ten minutes, then get the boy out of here."

  The whispered conversation took about a minute, but it felt like ten times that, out here in the middle of a ghost town, with no idea where the monster was.

  Dad stood, taking my hand. Misty latched on to my free arm, and I saw Sam do the same to her. We moved to the edge of the boardwalk, staying in the dirt street. I remembered how much those old boards creaked from our last time down here.

  We had to go around the next building, and into the dark alley to get to the sewer entrance. Dad turned on his flashlight, tightened his grip on my hand, and moved into the alley. The entrance to the sewer finally appeared in the single beam, like a gaping mouth in the ground.

  Letting me go, Dad turned around, leaned in to whisper against Misty's ear. I was next. "Give me your duffle. You'll go after Misty. Nod." I did, feeling him take the heavy bag. He reached for Sam.

  We moved to the edge, and Dad knelt, tying our duffles together. He attached the other end of the rope to his belt, and pointed to his flashlight, motioning that he was going to turn it off. Misty grabbed my hand again, and I saw her take Sam's just before Dad switched off the light. It snapped in the silence, seemed to echo off the low ceiling, and the dark surrounded us.

  With my ability to see gone, every noise around us felt like an approaching threat. Misty's fingers tightened around mine, let me know I wasn't alone. I identified the quiet shuffling as Dad, making his way to the sewer entrance, dragging the duffle bags after him. I remembered the ugly yellow glow coming off the monster; going in dark would make it easier to spot. Dad would fire up the flashlight again once he checked around the bottom of the ladder.

  Until then, I had to stomp down my fear and deal.

  His shoes tapped against the steel rungs, getting quieter as he climbed down. Misty squeezed my hand and let go. I felt more than heard her move to the entrance. For someone so tall she could be mighty quiet. Her shoes sounded different on the rungs--a soft scrape, like she was feeling her way along each one.