Alex Finch: Monster Hunter

  She moved back to the low counter where we checked out books, and I could have sworn I saw her brush her hand over one of the computers. No--she hated them with a passion most people reserved for good things. Like chocolate. I was definitely seeing things.

  I shrugged it off and headed back to the table, where Misty was doing her best to read the book for our project. I had her put it on her ereader, so she couldn't tear out pages in frustration. I knew she didn't enjoy the experience, but since I'd already written enough notes to choke an elephant, she gave in pretty quickly. After all, I already did most of the grunt work.

  She looked up when I sat, setting the ereader on the table. "You still have your head on. She seems pretty mild today."

  "Nothing she could accuse me of. Except breathing, or looking at the computers, or breathing."

  Misty burst out laughing, smothering it with her hand as Mrs. Swiller's head bounced up, her gaze scoping out the culprit. I shifted, hiding Misty until she composed herself. Like we were friends. I had to sit back, wrap my mind around that one. The populars and I did not get along. It was against the natural laws of high school. Me geek, her cheerleader. Nope--not computing.

  "Hey--you in there, Alex?" I blinked at her, feeling like I'd stepped out of the familiar and into the strange. As if finding out about Jake wasn't enough strange in my life. "Time to go. Didn't you hear the bell?"

  I shook my head, gathered up my notes and stuffed them in my backpack. Study period was my last class today, so I pushed past the other kids avoiding their next class until the last second, and sprinted to the parking lot. The sooner I got to those plans, the sooner I could find Jake.

  That last thought stopped me in my tracks. And I closed my eyes when I realized it was true.

  I wanted to help Sam. I wanted to be part of this.

  I was so screwed.

  10

  Dad waited for me near the glass front doors of the county records office. It was housed in a small brownstone, one of the original buildings when the first Emmett built his little kingdom by the sea. An ugly square box, it held every scrap of paper that detailed the history of our humble beach town.

  Pushing off the wall, Dad held out his hand. "I have the plans laid out for you. I figured you for impatient, and not liable to wait quietly while the clerk pulled them."

  "I should be insulted, but you know me too well."

  "I'd also like to look over them with you."

  He had me trapped, and he knew it. Any excuse I made now would look suspicious.

  "Okay."

  Laughing, he kissed the top of my head. "I promise, your reputation as a parent-avoiding teenager will remain intact."

  "Hilarious, Dad." Trying not to scratch at my arm, I followed him inside.

  I didn't think it was possible, but the inside was even uglier and more drab than the ugly, brown box outside. And brown seemed to be the decorating color of choice, down to the shirt and tie on the rail thin clerk. He studied me, like I was going to pillage his precious records. I was thankful for Dad's presence now, and that he dealt with having the plans pulled before I got here.

  My polite filter didn't always work around adults. Especially condescending adults.

  Dad smiled at the clerk and dragged me past the counter, all too aware of my mouth. He let me go once we were out of sight, and waved me into a small, windowless room.

  Long rolls of paper rested on a desk pushed against the side wall, one of them spread out on the huge table in the middle of the room. I recognized the straight lines and markings; I grew up scribbling on Dad's old or discarded plans and blueprints, creating my own two dimensional fantasy houses.

  "I couldn't wait for you," Dad said, bending over what looked like the layout of a town. "This is Emmettsville, circa 1900." He pointed to the main street. "Does this look familiar?"

  I studied it, frowning. "No. This isn't Main Street. Not our Main Street."

  "Got it in one." He smiled at me, and the tension from my conversation with Sam slowly unknotted. "Tell me what else you see."

  I scrutinized the plans. Streets that should have run north-south twisted and rambled, turning our ruler-straight grid of downtown into a rabbit warren. "I don't get it--this isn't what's outside."

  Dad grabbed another roll off the desk, laid it out next to the first one. "Now look at this one."

  The familiar streets popped out, the grid of downtown, and the maze of old town. I looked at the date. 1902. "The town was founded in what, 1895? Why are these so different? Was the first one a rejected plan of town?"

  "That's what I thought. Until I saw this." Dad held down the corner of the skewed plans, next to the date. I gasped, watching a thin piece of foolscap curl away from the corner. Underneath it was another date, and another name. 1890, Hyattown. "Looks like we weren't here first."

  "Hyatt--as in the Hyatts?" The Hyatts were the other local old money family, but most of their business was international. Mrs. Hyatt volunteered at the theatre where my dance company performed. Mr. Hyatt was a major donor--and one of the angriest, most bitter men I'd ever met. "Are you saying--Emmett built over this town?" I pointed at the floor. "That it's down there?"

  "It was common practice, Alex. Especially when it was more cost effective to cover up rather than tear down. I'm sure old Emmett had another motive, since he crowed about buying the land and the existing buildings from his rival Mick Hyatt for a song."

  "What?" I'd never heard this bit of trivia. It was common knowledge that Emmett bought the land, but even the local history claimed it was undeveloped. "I thought--"

  "So does everyone else. It's one of those sneaky little history rewrites. I'm sure Emmett figured it was bad publicity--especially since the original town was deserted."

  "Deserted--as in ghost town deserted? We live on top of a ghost town?" This new, disturbing fact completely freaked me out.

  He smiled, rubbing my arm. "Looks like. It's hardly a tragedy, Alex. We would have heard a long time ago if there were actual ghosts under our feet." His smile faded. "However, if someone alive is coming and going without detection, there's a good chance they are using whatever is left of the old town, and the abandoned sewer system I found."

  My heart sank as I studied a schematic he laid over the plans. No simple tunnel system, or abandoned sewer. Jake had an entire town to hide in, and another level underneath it.

  "Thanks, Dad. Is it possible to get copies--" He picked up the final roll. I was afraid I would have to beg for them, and supply answers I promised not to divulge. "You are too good to me." I reached for it, and he held it over his head. So much for easy, with no questions. "Dad--"

  "One question, Alex. Answer it, and they are yours." Swallowing, I nodded. "Is this dangerous?"

  I closed my eyes briefly. When I looked at Dad again, I knew my reaction answered it for him. "It's important. I can't--" I stumbled over just telling him I couldn't tell him.

  "Alex." He pressed the roll of plans in my palm, and closed his big, calloused hands over mine. Growing up, his touch always made me feel safe, protected. This time it left me feeling isolated. And I hated it, hated Sam for putting me in this awkward position. "You know you can trust me, with anything. And you earned our trust, by always being upfront, even when it wasn't in your best interest." I managed a smile, even with tears stinging my eyes. "Whatever you can tell me won't leave this room. I know your mom has a tendency to overreact."

  "There's the understatement of the year," I said. He smiled, and pulled me over to the chairs tucked up against the wall. I knew what he was doing, and I wasn't sure I could keep putting him off. "Dad--"

  "Talk to me, Alex." He sat me down, and moved his chair until we were knee to knee. "We're not leaving until you do."

  I let out a sigh, and avoided his gaze by staring down at the copies clutched in my hands. "I signed a confidentiality agreement."

  "And who coerced you to sign it?" My head snapped up at the anger in his voice. You have to understand something about my dad
--he is the most easygoing, even tempered human being I have ever met. He just doesn't do anger. To say I was shocked wouldn't even touch my reaction. "Talk, Alex. Now."

  Startled by his temper, I did. I told him everything, from the moment I heard that growl on the porch, to what happened yesterday with Sam and his mom, along with my vague theory about the boiler room explosion. Everything except the fact that Sam had been attacked, and that Jake actually was the monster. I couldn't do that to Sam.

  By the time I finished, I felt this weight lift off me. Dad sat back in his chair, arms crossed, and a kick butt frown on his face. "Dad? You believe me, don't you?"

  "God, Alex--I wish I didn't." Leaning forward, he brushed hair off my face. "You've always had a vivid imagination, but you never confused it with reality." Panic flared in his eyes and he reached for my left arm. "That injury isn't from--"

  "A rusty can." I already got the tetanus shot, from the free clinic in old town. "It's okay, Dad--he didn't get close enough to--"

  "Alex." Sam's voice froze me in the chair.

  Dad had the opposite reaction.

  With an angry shout I had never heard before, he lunged out of the chair and pinned Sam against the wall. "What the hell did you drag my daughter into?"

  Sam didn't even flinch. After facing off with Jake, Dad probably seemed as menacing as a house cat. "I am sorry, Mr. Finch. It's my fault Alex got involved. If I can take the plans with me, it will end here."

  I stared at him, those grey-blue eyes so calm as they met Dad's furious glare. And I realized I was seriously, no going back, in love with Sam Emmett. God help me.

  "Alex?" Dad's voice snapped me back. Both of them looked at me like I missed a chunk of conversation I was supposed to be part of. "Can you repeat the--question?" I hoped it was a question, because I heard nothing.

  Dad pressed his lips together, a sure sign he was trying not to smile. "Sam wants to do some preliminary exploring. I was just telling him you can go along--"

  "Really?"

  His "uh oh" smile appeared. I braced myself. "As long as I go with you."

  And there it was. The condition that always came with that smile.

  I took in a deep breath, prepared for the backlash after my next words. "I don't want you involved in this."

  Dad stalked forward, pulling me after him as he headed for the far side of the room. Instead of the anger I expected, he looked--scared. "Do you think I want you part of this, Alex? Just your description of that monster is going to give me nightmares. It's my job to protect you, to stand between you and danger--even unbelievable danger." He rubbed his face. "Your mom would kill me for even thinking of letting you do this. And you are not going without me."

  "Dad--"

  "Both of us, Alex. Or we hand the plans over to Sam and go home."

  It was my turn to rub my face. Dad was an architect. Sure, he spent his college years in construction, and dabbled at home, but he spent more time in front of his computer than at a work site.

  Then again, I had no idea I could swing a makeshift bat at a monster until I had no choice. I sure didn't get those nerves from Mom. She freaked out over a hangnail.

  "I can't let Sam do this alone."

  "Then it's decided. I have flashlights in the truck."

  He headed for the door, stopping long enough to speak to Sam, who looked at me and smiled. My heart stuttered, and I understood that these new, deeper feelings for Sam left me wide open for pain. And heartache.

  "Are you coming with us, Alex?" Dad's amused voice snapped me back. I could feel the embarrassment rush over my face. The downside of pale skin: it shows everything.

  "Yeah." I cleared my throat and followed them out, raising my eyebrows as the clerk glared at us, then at the clock. It was one minute after five. "Really? Am I going to get a citation now, or just a nasty warning because you had to stay one lousy minute over--"

  "Alex." Dad grabbed my hand and pulled me after him. "Thank you for the last minute rush job, Larry. It was time sensitive, and I'll put in a good word with your supervisor for your dedication and service."

  The glare disappeared. "Thanks, Mr. Finch." He hustled around the counter, keys jingling in one hand. "I'll just lock up after you so no one thinks we're still open." I was barely out the door before he shoved it closed.

  "You're not going to actually reward his nasty attitude, are you?"

  Dad let out a sigh and turned to face me. "I need to deal with these people, Alex. So yes, I am going to tell his boss he went above and beyond, because he did. I'm guessing his attitude has already been noted, more than once."

  "Sorry." I wanted to say more, but I already spewed enough. And Sam heard every word. I forgot about him being here in the heat of my indignation.

  Dad squeezed my hand and flashed me a smile. "Wouldn't have you any other way."

  That made me feel better, if not any less mortified. I kept my eyes forward, to avoid accidentally seeing any reaction from Sam--and caught sight of Misty, bouncing up and down next to my car and waving her arms.

  She danced over, her long braid flapping around her. "What did you find out? Where are you going that you need flashlights? Can I go with you?"

  I glanced over at Dad, who held three flashlights, and shrugged at me. "Misty--how did you find me?"

  "I followed you. How else would I find anything out? Please tell me I can go with you." She grabbed my hand, looking so excited I couldn't find it in my heart to refuse her.

  "You may not want to, once you know where we're going and why."

  Sam took pity on me, took Misty aside, and quietly explained to her. Dad distracted me by handing me one of the flashlights.

  "I don't expect to find much down there," he said. "There was probably a good amount of backfill, to create the foundation for the new buildings."

  "We just need to find out if it's possible for him to hide down there. Where are the sewers?"

  "In relation to the old town?" He took my arm, led me over to Sam and Misty, who looked scared, but just as determined to join us. "Not sure, since I used the entrance near the library for my exploration. This sewer system has tunnels spreading out everywhere, some of them far beyond the town limits--"

  "Dad." If I didn't stop him now, he would have gone on for hours. Trust me, I've been there.

  "Right." He winked at me, and I knew he forgave the interruption. "What I do know from studying the schematic is this--there is an entrance nearby. Just behind the McGinty house."

  I shuddered, not able to stop my reaction. Misty took my hand and gave it a squeeze, which oddly enough, made me feel better. She must have been just as freaked to be going back there, and after dark on top of it.

  "We're ready, sir," Sam said. I met his eyes, and he raised his eyebrows. "Right?"

  "Yeah." I swallowed. "Ready."

  "Okay." Dad flashed me a smile. "Let's go find out where it leads."

  Uh, oh. I knew that tone--it was Dad's "I'm ready to solve a mystery" tone. My heart pounded harder, this time with dread. He wouldn't let go of this until he got his answers.

  The McGinty house was in walking distance, in the neighborhood on the other side of the records office. One of the good/bads of small towns--everything was close together. Sometimes too close.

  We headed out, clouds from over the ocean rushing in to gloom up the sunset. It added a little too much atmosphere for my taste.

  I stayed with Dad, and Misty latched on to Sam. For some reason, I didn't want to scratch her eyes out in irrational jealousy. They made the perfect couple; like the photo next to the entry in the dictionary perfect.

  With my lack of jealousy came another revelation--one I hadn't paid attention to in my worship/avoidance dance for the last ten years.

  Sam didn't date. Anyone. I figured I never heard his name linked with a girl because I traveled so far outside their circle I wouldn't have heard a riot. But he never spent time with a girl, not in the relationship sense. Friends, yes--Sam was the most popular of the populars.


  Looking at his left shoulder, I had a sinking feeling I knew why.

  Dad stopping brought me back to our immediate goal.

  The familiar, rusted wrought iron fence had me reminding myself to breathe. Dad opened the gate, and led us around back to a dirt-crusted bronze manhole--just feet from the window we used to escape.

  "Here," he said, as he crouched next to the once decorative cover, handing his flashlight up to me. "I'll need your help, Sam."

  Together they shifted the heavy cover out of its home, and inched it across the dirt. Sam favored his left arm, which told me his shoulder still hurt. Or something else had happened to him, something he couldn't tell me--

  I really had to stop creating these scenarios in my head. I was going to give myself nightmares.

  "I'll go first." Dad turned and lowered himself to the steel ladder, one hand reaching up for the flashlight. "Alex, you follow me, then Misty. Sam will take the rear. No one wanders past the ground right under this hole. Understood?"

  I nodded, saw Sam and Misty do the same. Satisfied, Dad climbed down, slowly disappearing into the darkness. I clutched my flashlight, waiting for him to shout the all clear, praying it wouldn't be a shout of alarm, or a scream.

  "He'll be okay, Alex." Sam moved to my side, watching the hole. "Jake isn't the most subtle attacker. But you already know that--"

  "Wait." Misty grabbed Sam's arm. "The thing that attacked us--was Jake? Your cousin Jake?" His face drained of color. He was so used to talking to me freely, he obviously forgot Misty didn't know all the details. "Your certifiable cousin Jake?" She started to sound hysterical.

  "Misty." She whirled, swinging her flashlight at me. I caught her wrist, got in her face. "Misty."

  She blinked, her eyes focusing. "I'm okay. Sorry." She backed down, and I let her go. "I didn't--that is so not processing, and I panicked. Especially since we're standing right here." She waved at the backyard, just feet away from our escape. Her gaze shot to the manhole. "We're looking for him down there, aren't we?"

  I nodded, and glanced over at Sam. "What did you tell her?"

  "That we were checking out a theory. And it could be dangerous." He crossed his arms. "I couldn't tell her any more than that."