-9-
PJ opened the Camaro’s trunk and grimaced as they hauled out the limp skin of the creature. It hung like a furry empty sack in their hands. There didn’t seem to be any bones in it. PJ also began to pull out rag after rag soaked with black blood, which he threw into the woods. Bree and Whitey helped at first, but when PJ finished tossing the last soiled rag, he turned to find them holding their weapons. “Hey, easy there,” he said, holding up his hands.
“We are preparing to leave, not kill you,” Whitey said.
“Great,” PJ said. “And not a moment too soon.” He lowered his voice. “But hey, no one can know about all this, eh?”
“Agreed,” Whitey said. “Tell no one. We will do the same.”
Sam had been listening from the car, but his curiosity got the best of him. He stepped around the rear bumper and snuck up on their discussion. Bree and Whitey were standing with their cloaks open, and Sam saw that they wore medieval armor of finely tooled leather underneath—warrior armor. “Cool!” he said.
Bree and Whitey drew steel and whipped their weapons toward the sudden sound. Their swords stopped just short of Sam’s neck.
PJ whirled on Sam too. He stomped his foot, angry. “Watch it! The way these maniacs swing their things around, somebody could really get hurt, like you for instance, or worse, me! Now get back in the car.”
“But I just wanted to see their swords and the armor…” Sam said.
“No,” PJ said firmly.
“…and I wanted to check out the tunnel under the sensor post.”
Bree put her finger to her lips to remind Sam not to talk.
“What?” PJ barked. “Tunnel? No! I don’t want to even hear any more of this crazy stuff. I am not supervising some punk kid on a big adventure to fantasyland. In fact, you’re a little cancer, man. Ever since I met you my day’s gotten more and more lame.”
Sam’s grin disappeared.
“And I’m an idiot for listening to a twelve year-old loser,” PJ continued. “Smuggler’s loot my butt! All we found out here is trouble. As soon as we settle this, you’re going back to your crappy little cell, then back to your crappy little life.”
Sam’s lip quivered. It wasn’t that he was unaccustomed to being yelled at—his dad did it often. It was just that he’d finally discovered something truly exciting in Sumas. But PJ was right. When the strangers vanished back down the hole in the ground, his life would go straight back to crappy. The thought of returning to his dad’s shabby little rented trailer to get in trouble for the stolen fireworks was bad enough. But having nothing more to look forward to than hanging out on the curb at the Stop-n-Sip all summer, and for as far into the future as he could see, was almost more than he could bear.
The warriors were staring at him. No matter what, he didn’t want them to see him cry. He blinked back tears, sniffed, and ran off around the car.
PJ turned to Bree and Whitey. “Okay, now you two run off like that and I’ll be happy.”
“You’ve seen things you should not have,” Whitey said. “You know things you shouldn’t know.”
“Under the circumstances, perhaps we should ask for his help,” Bree said to Whitey hopefully. “He already…”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Whitey snapped. “We cannot expect anything from him, except to forget what he’s seen.”
“Don’t worry,” PJ said, “you’d be surprised how bad my memory can be when I put my mind to it. As soon as you’re out of sight, this is all out of my mind. I don’t take on other people’s problems.”
Whitey nodded at Bree. “You see, he is good for nothing.”
Bree seemed disappointed. She looked at PJ, and for a moment their eyes met. Her green gaze was sad, but somehow steady and determined at the same time.
Whitey turned to go and motioned for her to come with him. She looked away from PJ, gave a little wave, and the two melted into the dark underbrush so quietly it was like they were never there at all.
PJ took a deep breath. He found he was waving goodbye to Bree without realizing it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away.
“All right,” he said to himself as he headed back to the car, “weirdos gone, mutant creature melted, evidence cleaned up. Talk about your atypical day.” He shook out his limbs to relax. “But it’s all good now.”
He opened the Camaro door and glanced inside. “Hey Sam?”
The car was empty, except for the boy’s backpack, which lay on the seat. PJ grabbed it and looked around. “Sam…?”
– End Chapter Nine –
