by J. S. Volpe
15
“Looks like we’ve got a lot of places to search,” Calvin said through a mouthful of buffalo wings. He scanned the freshly compiled list of locations the two groups had come up with, then swiped a smudge of Blackbeard’s Whiskers Hot Sauce off the paper.
The reunited group sat at a large, round table near the back of the Red Anchor Brewery’s restaurant. Most of them were eating the brewery’s award-winning wings, with dipping sauces to suit their individual tastes. A pitcher of Davey Jones’ Lager sat in the middle of the table, already half empty. Cynthia had eschewed the meat and beer in favor of a deluxe garden salad and a glass of water. Lauren was partaking quite heartily of the lager but had ordered the beer brats and pierogies rather than wings. Calvin was treating.
“I think the cemetery’s the best bet,” Brandon said. He paused to suck a gob of hot sauce off his thumb, then went on: “That’s totally a monster’s kind of place, you know? It’s like what that old lady told you: Like calls to like.”
“That’s what you said about the junk yard,” Lauren said.
“Yeah, but there was a dog there, guarding the place. And a big jackass with a stogie. The cemetery, on the other hand, is untenanted, at least by anything living.”
“I don’t know,” Cynthia said. “I’m inclined to go with the less dramatic but more logical choice: the ravines. They not only provide shelter and water but they run for blocks and blocks. They’re like secret corridors for the creature to travel down. And at least some of them connect up with Holly Hills.”
Calvin pondered the options, sipping his beer and looking over the list of locations again.
“The cemetery’s woods are smaller than any of the ravines,” he said, “so I say we tackle that first. We should be able to do that pretty quickly. Then, if we don’t turn anything up, we move on to the ravines.”
“That could get kind of dodgy,” Lauren said. “I mean, who owns all that land down there? The city? The homeowners? If it’s owned by the homeowners and someone sees us traipsing around on their property…”
“Then we book it,” Violet said.
“I hate to say it,” Calvin said, “but I think Violet’s probably right. We don’t have a lot of options here. We need to look in the places where the leucrota is likeliest to be, and if that involves some trespassing, then it does, unfortunately. We can’t afford to waste time sussing out property rights and hunting up absentee landlords to ask permission.”
“Are we gonna split up like we did today?” Donovan said with a glance at Cynthia. He wasn’t too keen on winding up grouped with his sister again, since she’d no doubt seize the opportunity to royally bitch him out about the weed. As it was, he was going to have a hard enough time avoiding her when they got home tonight.
“We should probably do this as a group,” Calvin said, “maybe with three of us in the search area and the others off on either side to watch for the leucrota in case it tries to slip away.”
“Wouldn’t that leave one person working solo?” Cynthia asked. “If there are three in the search group, that leaves only three to divide between the two sides.”
“I’m hoping we’ll have one more person with us. I talked to Tiffany Fish earlier, and although she couldn’t make it to today’s meeting, she does want to join the group.” He told them the salient details about his meeting with her earlier that day. He didn’t mention the subsequent chat with her dad. Cynthia was the only person he had told about his meeting with Andrew Fish and about Tiffany’s breakdown, and the only person he planned to tell.
“So she wants to join as a sort of experiment?” asked Lauren. “To find out whether she’s screwy or the alley is?”
Calvin squirmed, the word “screwy” hitting a little too close to home.
“In a way,” he said. “But that’s not the only reason. She really is interested in all of this.” The moment he said it, he realized he wasn’t entirely sure it was true. She hadn’t actually said that, had she? Perhaps he only wanted it to be true.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Brandon said. “She sounds interesting.”
“Just remember, she’s…shy,” Calvin said. “She, uh, she doesn’t get out a lot, and I don’t think she has a lot of experience with people.”
Violet frowned over her latest glass of beer. “What, is she some kind of weird hermit like Robert May?”
“Not exactly.”
“She’s just led a rather sheltered life till recently,” Cynthia said diplomatically.
“She wasn’t raised in a convent, was she?” Lauren said.
“No, nothing like that,” Calvin said. “She’s just very shy. I’ll talk to her later tonight and tell her we’re good to go tomorrow.” He gulped down some beer, wiped a blob of foam off his lips, then nodded and added, “I think she’ll be a great addition to the team. She’s very good at, uh, lateral thinking.”
That’s a mild way of putting it, Cynthia thought. But she held her peace and just took another bite of salad.