The Beast

by Ally Condie

  “Seems fine!” she called up.

  The others followed. Opal dropped last and faced the group. “Guys, I think we found something really important.”

  Nico nodded. “That red tide is nuts. I’ve got to ask my dad about it.”

  “Not that. The plaque.” Was she the only one who thought this mattered? “Someone engraved a version of the torch on a public war memorial, where anyone could see. We have to check for the name Charles Dixon in the Torchbearers records.”

  “Let’s get out of here first, okay?” Logan led everyone back to the fence, where they wiggled through the breach once more. On the other side, he smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, back to business. Field trips are fun and all, but I’ve got T-shirts to sell.”

  Tyler snorted. “Because that matters.”

  Opal pulled her bike from the trees, silently fuming.

  This discovery meant something. It had to. Why else would she have felt so drawn to it?

  But she had no idea what the meaning could be.

  5

  NICO

  Nico’s race car sank into a crocodile-filled swamp.

  Sighing, he put down his controller. “I concede defeat.”

  “Dumb game being dumb,” Tyler mumbled, watching his monster truck burn on-screen. His glare snapped to Emma. “How’d your motorcycle get a flamethrower, anyway?”

  “Trade secrets,” Emma replied smugly. “Now, don’t you boys have something to say?”

  Nico groaned. Tyler covered his eyes and huffed. They were trapped on the couch with no possibility of escaping.

  “I’m wait-ing,” Emma said in a singsong voice, cupping her chin in one palm as she sat cross-legged on the oversized chair in her basement. They’d been playing video games there all morning, celebrating the glory of a fall Thursday off from school.

  “Better get it over with,” Emma warned. “Before my mom brings lunch down and you have a bigger audience.”

  Nico and Tyler met eyes. Rolled them. Then, like prisoners of war, they spoke in slow, dreary unison.

  “Emma Fairington is the greatest gamer in Timbers. Tyler and Nico are lucky to be her friends. Tyler and Nico bow down before the amazing and talented Emma Fairington.”

  Both boys paused. Nico squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Come come, now,” Emma chided, clasping her hands together and batting her eyelashes. “Big finish!”

  “Kill me,” Tyler murmured.

  “Me first,” Nico said.

  Emma clapped twice sharply. “Those aren’t the words, gentlemen.”

  More sighs.

  “All hail the Xbox queen and our personal hero, Emma Fairington.”

  Emma sank back in the chair and put her hands behind her head. “Yes. That was nice.”

  “Rematch!” Tyler barked, but he stopped short of restarting the game at Nico’s headshake.

  “Dude, if we lose again, we’re up to level three humiliation,” Nico hissed. “We’d have to do the dance.”

  Tyler dropped his controller as if snakebitten.

  Emma giggled, digging into a bowl of chips. The trio was hanging out like old times, since Opal was helping her dad at the post office and Logan was working on a new T-shirt design. Torchbearing was obviously an around-the-clock responsibility, but they couldn’t sneak out to Still Cove every single minute. People would notice.

  “A wise choice, sirs.” Emma bounced her eyebrows, but then her expression grew serious. “Plus, I want to ask you guys something.”

  “Uh-oh,” Tyler muttered, squeezing his forehead.

  Emma pursed her lips. “What? I haven’t even said anything yet.”

  Nico grinned sourly. “Emma, you never say you want to ask us something unless you already know we’re not going to like it. Otherwise, you’d just spit it out.”

  Emma opened her mouth indignantly, then closed it. “Okay. Fine.” Her eyes dropped. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Lemme guess,” Tyler grumbled. “You signed us up for the school play again, didn’t you? What do I care about some orphan named Annie?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.” Emma shifted awkwardly. “This is something I want to do.”

  “Is it the trick-or-treating thing?” Nico asked, trying to be diplomatic. “Maybe we could hand out candy this year instead. I’m sure most of it could accidentally fall out of the bowl.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that either, although I still think you’re crazy.”

  Nico shrugged. “Well? What is it?”

  Emma took a deep breath, then squared her shoulders. “I saw a flyer for an unpaid grip position with the Freakshow crew. I want to apply for it.”

  “Emma, no,” Nico blurted, just as Tyler said, “What’s a grip?”

  “Technically the posting reads more like a production assistant gig, but I’ll make them call me a grip. That’s the job I want. A grip is someone who sets up, fetches, and carries things for a camera crew in the field, and also helps organize their gear.” Emma smiled. “I’d be great at it. And think how much about filming I could learn!”

  “Emma, the stated mission of that show is to expose monster legends.” Nico spoke as patiently as he could. “You understand that as Torchbearers, we’re specifically tasked with hiding a giant monster factory, right? That our whole purpose is to keep people like that away from figments and the Darkdeep?”

  “Yes, Nico. I know that,” Emma replied testily. “But shouldn’t we be keeping a close watch on what Bridger and his crew are doing? Name a better way to accomplish that than having an informant on the inside.”

  Nico was about to argue further when Tyler spoke up. “That’s actually a solid point, Nico.”

  “Don’t you start!”

  “Well, think about it,” Tyler said quietly. “We can’t keep up with a van on our bikes, and we won’t know where they’re going until they’re gone. What if they decide to check out Still Cove one afternoon? At least this way, someone in our group will hear about it.”

  Nico shook his head, still refusing to admit the logic in Emma’s plan. “That show is a total joke. I watched a couple episodes last night, and they made me sick. Freakshow isn’t interested in finding the truth about anything. They use shock tactics and sneaky effects to make people think they’ve seen weird things. The locals always end up looking like clowns. Colton Bridger is going to make Timbers seem ridiculous. Or worse, what if he actually finds the Darkdeep? Can you even imagine?”

  “All the more reason for me to get close,” Emma insisted. “Maybe I can talk them out of mocking people, or steer them away from anything that matters.”

  Nico fell silent. He hated the idea of Timbers becoming a punch line. Even the Beastmania made him uncomfortable. Every morning he glowered at the boatloads of bucket-hat-wearing tourists pouring off the ferry, hoping to snap a pic of a magical sea creature on their iPhone. Who needed them?

  “You’re dead set on this?” Nico asked.

  Emma shrugged. “I’m a Torchbearer first. I won’t apply if you guys don’t want me to. But I think it’s the smart move.”

  Nico exhaled deeply. “You’re right. I’m being dumb.” Rising, he stretched with a yawn, then swept his jacket off the back of the couch.

  “Where are you going?” Tyler squawked.

  “Town,” Nico said, heading for the stairs. “If that flyer’s been posted for long, Emma won’t be the only one interested. We need to act fast. Come on.”

  Nico smiled as Emma’s howl of delight chased him up the steps.

  Emma sprinted across the torn-up grass of town square, screaming and waving a form over her head.

  “I’m guessing she’s hired?” Tyler said dryly, blowing into his fist. He and Nico were standing on a street corner, the same one where Nico had started the wild figment chase on Beast Night. Damage was still visible in dozens of spots around the little park, from its demolished fountain to the broken lampposts and gouged lawn.

  Emma bowled into Nico and Tyler and
wrapped them both in a ragged hug that was more like a double headlock. “I got the job!”

  “Take it easy!” Nico laughed, stumbling backward.

  “How is she so strong?” Tyler wheezed, unable to free himself.

  Emma ignored their complaints, talking at warp speed. “There were a dozen applicants to start with, but most wanted money and bailed when they found out it’s unpaid. Of the people left, I scored highest on their test and they picked me!”

  “Test?” Nico’s brow furrowed. “What’d they ask you?”

  “Simple stuff, really.” Emma released them and stepped back, looking pleased. “Diagramming a lighting rig, coiling AV cables, naming the secret numbers on LOST. That kind of thing.”

  “LOST numbers?” Tyler shook his head. “Didn’t that come out before we were born?”

  “That’s what online streaming is for, you dip. For the record: 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42.”

  “So that’s it?” Nico said. “You’re in?”

  Emma nodded. “I just have to get this permission slip signed, but that’s no problem. My parents are super tied-up at the shop selling ponchos to soaked tourists, so they’ll be glad I have something to do. Colton said he’s filming here through at least Halloween. It’s perfect!”

  Nico scratched his temple. “Wonderful.”

  “One thing, though,” Emma said, her cheeriness fading. “They’ve been interviewing every local they find interesting, asking questions about the Beast. Basic stuff, mostly—where it came from, how long the legend’s been around, that kind of thing. But then Colton asked me about Still Cove.”

  Tyler cringed. Nico’s head flopped back.

  “Define interesting,” Tyler said. “Who are they talking to?”

  Emma frowned. “Colton seems to prefer our town’s more colorful characters. Or those willing to go along with whatever he’s driving at.”

  “Gaaaaah,” Nico moaned, still staring at the sky.

  Tyler ran a hand down his face. “And Still Cove?”

  “People keep telling him that’s where the Beast lives,” Emma said, wincing slightly. “I bet he’ll try to film there.”

  Nico shook his head. “We just have to take it one day at a time. Stay ahead of them.”

  Emma shifted uncomfortably. “There’s something else, too.”

  Tyler pressed both palms to his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

  “They’re also asking about Beast Night. Mayor Hayt overheard Colton interviewing Megan Cook, from third period, and she claimed there was Beast slime all over the fountain the next day, but the rain washed it away before anyone else saw. The mayor didn’t look happy. I heard her tell a staffer that she expects an update on the sheriff’s investigation.” Emma swallowed. “She wants to know where every kid in Timbers was during the vandalism.”

  Tyler blinked in shock. “I thought the case was winding down.”

  Nico gripped his hair in frustration. “This is getting out of hand. We need to make sure we all have our stories straight. My dad will skin me if he thinks I had anything to do with the destruction of town property.”

  “Your dad?” Tyler shivered. “My dad’ll ship me off to military school on the next ferry. He’s already got a brochure tacked up in our kitchen, from when my sister threatened to get a belly ring.”

  Emma turned to Nico. “Did you ask your dad about the algae bloom?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance. But that’s another thing keeping me awake. First, a sulfur cloud bubbles up through our pond, and then a red tide appears out of nowhere at Razor Point. It’s like our whole ecosystem is spazzing. Meanwhile, we’ve got stray Pokémon running through the woods and a film crew breathing down our necks. It’s all falling apart.”

  Tyler squinted at Nico. “You think the nature hiccups have something to do with figments?”

  Nico tugged on his sleeves. “I don’t know. It’s just a lot of weird things at once, which makes me nervous.”

  Tyler nodded. “I hear that. So what’s our next move?”

  “Let’s find Opal and Logan,” Emma suggested. “They need to hear the news about the investigation before anyone starts asking more questions.”

  “We have to be careful,” Nico cautioned, glancing around to make sure they were still alone. “We can’t let any of this other stuff threaten the Darkdeep. That’s what matters most.”

  “Truth.” Tyler looked at his watch, then snapped off a crisp salute. “Orders, sir?”

  “Ha ha. We both got creamed by Emma earlier, so I think she’s in charge today.”

  “Thanks for remembering.” But Emma’s smug look was short-lived. “Let’s rally everyone at the houseboat. Meet there in thirty?”

  “Done.” Tyler tapped a fist to his chest.

  Nico nodded. A cold wind swept the square, swirling dead leaves like the worries in his head.

  His spirits sagged. So much could go wrong.

  Which problem was going to bury them first?

  6

  OPAL

  Opal swished through the velvet curtain.

  The others were waiting in the showroom, with varying degrees of impatience. And holding their noses—though pitch-black again, the pond still reeked of sulfur, and a rotten-egg stench was suffocating the houseboat. Opal tried to ignore it.

  “There better be a good reason for this meeting,” Logan grumbled, arms crossed as he stood beneath the spiraling, snakelike skeleton that hung from the ceiling. “I was making a killing on Beast merch today. Did you guys hear they’re running an extra ferry now, to handle all the traffic?”

  “Yeah,” Tyler said. “My dad said the harbor’s crazy with private boats, too. Timbers is a hot stop these days.”

  “Timbers Cafe was packed with tourists when my mom and I went in yesterday,” Emma said. “They’re all ordering the new Beastburgers.”

  “Ew.” Opal wrinkled her nose. “What are those?”

  “Same as regular burgers, but topped with grilled radishes and three kinds of drippy cheese.” Emma’s lip quirked. “Kinda good, actually.”

  “You ate one?” Nico rolled his eyes. “So you’re buying into this nonsense, too?”

  “I like cheeseburgers,” Emma said defensively. “And when was the last time the cafe offered something new?”

  “I’ll be trying one ASAP.” Logan scooped his duffel bag off the floor and reached inside. “And check this out—I’ve got two hundred of these puppies shipping in tomorrow.” He held up a sea-green football jersey with an image of the Beast on its hind legs wearing boxing gloves. Above it were the words BEAST MODE.

  Tyler covered his face with both hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Logan stretched the jersey to admire it. “These might even outsell TIMBERS IS THE BEAST.”

  “Guys, focus,” Nico said. “We have bigger problems. Colton Bridger is asking people about Still Cove.”

  Opal’s heart skipped a beat. “What? Why?”

  “Because everyone keeps telling him that’s where the Beast lives,” Nico said. “He’s also asking a ton of questions about what happened on Beast Night, which is stirring up the mayor and Sheriff Ritchie.”

  “Oh no.” Logan’s eyes widened. “My four-wheelers.”

  Tyler made a false smile. “Any chance your dad could sell them to some Australians heading home?”

  Logan shook his head grimly. “They’re too busted up to even start right now, and their tires are still caked in dirt from town square.”

  Opal groaned. “Not good.” And that was nothing compared to the threat the film crew posed.

  What if Bridger found the island while investigating Still Cove? Or worse, the houseboat?

  The Darkdeep seemed to be in sleep mode—so it didn’t look too unnatural—but Bridger might stick an arm into it for pure shock value. She’d watched a little of Freakshow to see what it was like. In one segment, Bridger crawled inside a Transylvanian bat cave looking for Dracula artifacts, while gripping a clove of garlic for protecti
on. He loved for his viewers to think he was in danger.

  “There is some good news,” Emma said. “I’ll be infiltrating Freakshow starting tomorrow.”

  Logan made a face. “Since when are you a spy? Or working with those losers?”

  “Since an hour ago.” Emma beamed. “I got hired as a grip. I’ll monitor what they’re up to and report back.”

  Logan squinted at her. “What do you … grip, exactly?”

  “Think of me as a gofer.”

  “The rodent?”

  Emma blinked. “I’m a production assistant, Logan. I’ll do odd tasks.”

  “That’s great,” Opal said. She was pleased they’d know what Bridger was doing in real time. Plus, she knew Emma would love the work, even if it was for such a trashy show.

  “Just keep them away from Still Cove,” Nico said, nervously rubbing his chin. “Distract them in Timbers if you can. Tell Bridger that those Beastburgers are made from real Beast.”

  Emma nodded. “I’ll try to send them west, into the woods over by Nantes Timber. They’ll probably believe whatever I say about local legends.” Her eyes twinkled. “This could be fun.”

  Opal went to the chest where they stored the slime-covered books from the tunnel chamber. Setting aside the special dagger with the key in its hilt—the one they’d found in the stone cylinder, which allowed access to the hidden vault—she pulled out the Index of Torchbearers. The volume recorded every member of the secret society since its founding in 1741. Hoping against hope, Opal placed her fingertip on the last one listed—Roman Hale, the poor soul whose skeleton they’d discovered on the island—and traced up the page, searching for Charles Dixon.

  “Looking for the name on the plaque?” Nico asked quietly.

  “Yes.” Then Opal exhaled loudly in frustration. “But it’s not here.”

  Nico scrunched his shoulders. “Well, half this roster is ruined by slug-slime. He could be under there somewhere.”

  “But it’s legible starting in the 1920s. The plaque said Dixon flew missions during World War II—in the 1940s—and I’m assuming the medal belongs to him. So his name should probably be in the visible part.” Opal gently closed the splintering book, but her mood had turned foul. “I feel like something’s missing.” She glanced at the wall where photographs of old Torchbearers hung. “Like, maybe there’s a part of being a Torchbearer that we’re not doing. It can’t just be hunting down stray figments as they appear. We could miss one, or someone might see us. And we don’t really know how to monitor the Darkdeep.”