by Lija Fisher
Clivo ran down a hill, jumping over the low stone ruins of the ancient village and avoiding the open pits of archaeological digs. In the moonlight he saw the hulking shape of The Ender wrestling with the fallen beast, who was wrapped in a net.
Clivo hurried toward the struggling creature. It was much larger than Clivo had been expecting—taller than The Ender but much thinner, and it was definitely frightening. It had the sinewy body of a starved person, and bony toes and fingers that ended in claws. The most disturbing thing about it was its face, almost human but with batlike sharp teeth and pointed ears.
It was shrieking and hissing at The Ender, who was doing his best to secure the creature in the net.
“Let it go!” Clivo warned.
The Ender barely glanced over at him, his focus all on the beast that was fighting him. “Get out of here, kid. This is ending here and now. If you want to live, you’d better walk away.”
The Ender jerked on the net, and a scream of pain came from the aswang. Clivo gritted his teeth in anger and ran at The Ender, attempting to rip his hands off the net, which was twisted around the creature. The Ender heaved one of his large hands away and slapped Clivo across the face with the back of it.
The blow sent Clivo flying to the ground, with a feeling like having been whacked in the cheek by a bowling ball.
The Ender growled at him, “You get close to me again and the next punch will put you down for good, you hear me?”
Clivo put his palm to his cheek, half expecting to discover his face caved in from the force of the hit. Fortunately it was the usual shape, but he could already feel his eye swelling shut. He was going to be left with one heckuva bruise. His eyes stung from the pain and he let the tears flow down his cheeks. He didn’t care that the cruel man in front of him could see him crying. He was scared, in an enormous amount of pain, and worried that he was about to lose the immortal to this giant jerk.
Clivo dropped his hand and it landed on the fanny pack tied around his waist. Jerry’s trick bag! He had completely forgotten about it this whole time! There was no way that he could defeat The Ender in a fight—the guy was just way too strong, not to mention that he seemed perfectly fine with hitting a kid—but maybe Clivo could take him down with one of Jerry’s gizmos.
Clivo opened the zipper and dug around in the pack. The aswang continued to scream and The Ender held on to the net with one hand as his other one reached for a holstered gun.
Clivo paused. “You can’t kill it, it’s immortal.”
The Ender didn’t even glance at him. “You’re such a child. It won’t die from old age or disease, but getting injured is another matter. A vampire dies from being beheaded, and I’m sure a well-placed bullet will do the same to this thing.”
“But, you can’t!” Clivo pleaded. “You can’t just kill something that’s been around for thousands of years!”
“Oh yeah?” The Ender said, his dark eyes locking with Clivo’s. “Watch me.”
The Ender raised the gun just as Clivo pulled his hand from the fanny pack and flung the yo-yo at the man, wrapping the string around the gun. Clivo yanked on his end and ripped the gun from The Ender’s hand, the force of his pull flinging the gun into the darkness.
The Ender looked at him in disgust. “Did you really just take my gun with a yo-yo?”
“I did,” Clivo said, standing up even though he was still a bit wobbly from the blow to the cheek. “And now I’m going to punch you with one.”
Clivo yanked out another yo-yo and flung it at The Ender’s stupid face. It got him right in the forehead and he dropped the net, both of his hands clutching his face with a grunt of pain. Clivo pulled out another yo-yo and flung it toward the man, too, the string wrapping around him and pinning his arms to his body. Clivo pulled out yet another yo-yo and tossed it around the man’s legs, where it cinched them together tight, and with a final flourish Clivo took his two last yo-yos and whipped them at The Ender’s kneecaps, both of them making sickening cracking sounds as they found their marks. The Ender let out a cry of pain and dropped to the ground, helplessly wiggling around like a pig in a blanket.
“What is it with you and the yo-yos?” the man groaned as a painful-looking purple goose egg began to emerge from his forehead.
Clivo grabbed The Ender’s feet and dragged him away from the aswang to a deep archaeological pit, and, with a firm shove of his foot, he pushed The Ender into the hole, where he landed with a thud.
“There’s nowhere to run, boy,” The Ender said as he struggled against his bonds. “It’s a small island, and I’ll find you. And then I’m going to end you.”
“Me and my yo-yos of death will be waiting,” Clivo said. He was tempted to spit at the nasty captive, just to punctuate his triumph over him, but decided that that was taking things a bit too far.
Clivo ran back over to the aswang and saw that its damaged wing was dripping blood on the dirt. It had quit struggling and was looking at Clivo questioningly.
“I don’t know if you can understand me, but I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to protect you,” Clivo said quickly, panting in his panic to get the creature out of there before The Ender broke free of the yo-yo strings and crawled up from the dirt prison. “But I need to keep you in the net for now, at least until you turn back into human form and we can have a nice talk about how I’d appreciate it if you didn’t eat me.”
The aswang tilted its head, its face suddenly morphing and changing features. Clivo rocked back in shock as the creature shrank and shape-shifted into its human form. The groaning of bones as they shrank and contracted made Clivo wince, but he watched in fascination as the being changed back to its human self.
Clivo took in a sharp breath of recognition as a weary yet smiling face looked up at him through the net and a kind voice greeted him. “Hi, honey.”
“Dayea?” Clivo asked, amazed at seeing the ancient woman from the butcher shop. He looked behind himself to make sure The Ender was still in his hole and hadn’t seen the human identity of the aswang.
Dayea held out a thin, wrinkly arm that was streaming blood. “Sweet boy, help me home?”
Clivo was so shocked that he had just been standing there, frozen. He sprang into action. “Oh, my gosh, of course! I’m so sorry.”
Clivo gently untangled the frail woman from the net, his mind still reeling from the discovery that just a moment before she had been a feared beast that could easily have torn him apart in a heartbeat. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around her, leading her back to town.
Nobody was roaming the streets due to the curfew, which was a good thing, seeing as how a shirtless boy leading a half-naked woman through town would hardly go unnoticed.
They arrived at Dayea’s butcher shop, and the place was a mess. Raw meat was scattered everywhere and chewed-on bones were discarded on the floor. Above them, a skylight was open to the stars—Dayea must have escaped through it after making her transformation.
Clivo looked at the carnage around him. “Do you own a butcher shop ’cause it’s easier to eat when you morph?”
Dayea smiled and nodded. “I enjoy eating live cows more, but it upsets the villagers. This way I can stay safe better.”
She hobbled to a back room and returned dressed in a long nightgown and carrying a first-aid kit. Clivo sat with her and cleaned the wound where The Ender had shot her. Fortunately, the bullet had just grazed her arm, and while it must have stung something fierce, it wasn’t that bad of a wound.
Clivo focused on her injury, but his mind was spinning with so many questions that he didn’t even know where to begin. Fortunately, Dayea spoke first. “Why does that man want to hurt me, honey? You know?”
Clivo dabbed at her injury with a cotton ball. “There are a lot of people who want to take on your special powers for themselves. And most of them are not very good people. There’s actually been quite a race going on to find you.”
Dayea’s brow furrowed, wrinkling her face even more, if that was possible. “But I cannot turn
anyone else into shape-shifters. I have tried. Be less lonely, you know?”
Clivo shook his head. “It’s not your shape-shifting abilities they want, it’s your blood—so that they can become immortal.”
“Immortal?” Dayea asked, obviously surprised. “Am I immortal?”
Now Clivo was surprised. He stopped tending to her wound and studied her face. “I think you are. I mean, there’s one cryptid in the world that is immortal, and I was really hoping it was you.”
Dayea thought about it. “I have been alive thousands of years, but look at me. I age. In a few thousand more years, I will be dust.”
Clivo looked at Dayea. She certainly looked ancient. If anyone appeared to be thousands of years old, it was her. A worry began to creep into his stomach, so he pulled out the blood sampler. “I can find out if you’re immortal, if you don’t mind?”
Dayea stared into the distance, her eyes looking like her brain was processing the meaning of being immortal. This close to her, Clivo caught a glimpse of his reflection in her narrow eyes and saw that it was upside down.
Finally, she nodded in agreement.
Clivo scooped up some of her blood that had dripped on the floor with the needle and waited as the device did its work. It was a familiar feeling at this point—the beating of Clivo’s heart in excitement at the thought that the immortal had been found.
The screen lit up, and what it said was so disappointing and confusing that Clivo simply went numb.
NOT IMMORTAL.
Dayea looked down at the screen and a happy smile crept onto her face. “That is okay, honey. Dayea is tired, I do not need to live forever. Too hard living in a time when people are scared of her. Too hard making a living when one is thousands of years old. I am ready for rest.”
“I’m glad,” Clivo said distractedly. He was very close to losing hope, a feeling that he had never had before. The dangers of the catches were wearing on him, with both the cryptids and the people chasing after him. The Blasters had used every clue they had, and still they couldn’t find the immortal. Now that they were out of clues, the only thing left to do was to catch the remaining creatures one by one and hope they stumbled across the immortal. But they knew of thousands of cryptids, and there were surely more that had evaded documentation. He could spend several lifetimes catching them and never find the right one. Clivo had never felt so tired in his life.
Dayea patted him on the cheek. “I am sorry your journey does not end with me, honey. You are a good boy.”
“It’s okay,” Clivo said, managing a smile. He pulled himself together and began bandaging her arm. “I just wish I knew where to look next. You haven’t by chance come across any immortal beings in your incredibly long time on Earth, have you?”
Dayea thought about it and sighed. “No, honey. I am the oldest thing I know. Lonely life. Very lonely. Glad not to be immortal.”
“Were you born as a shape-shifter, or did something happen to you?” Clivo asked, trying to distract himself from the crushing disappointment that Dayea was not the immortal.
Dayea nodded. “Born like this, honey. Very scary for my parents the first time I turned. I ate the family dog, poor little thing. But my family loved me, and the other villagers learned not to be afraid. I am no vampire, I do not hunt people. I was seen as special, as touched by the heavens with important gift. But after Mommy and Papi died, people cast me out. My differences no longer were special; they were seen as a curse. That was three thousand years ago. Long time to not have people like you.”
Clivo finished dressing the wound and sat back on his heels. He had to get out of there, and fast—he didn’t want to be around when The Ender broke free. But he also didn’t feel like he could leave Dayea. He hated the idea of her working hard every day, without friends or family for comfort. She was thousands of years old and she was right, it was time for her to rest. Besides, his duty was not just to find the immortal, but to also protect the other cryptids, even if one was a three-thousand-year-old woman who could turn into a bat.
Clivo rocked forward and cupped her hands in his. “Dayea, I’d like to bring you home with me and take care of you, if that’s something you’d be okay with?”
Her fleshy eyelids lifted in surprise. “Why would you want to do that, honey?”
“Because that’s what I do. I protect special things that others are trying to hurt. Besides, you’ve been working for thousands of years. Aren’t you ready to retire?” Clivo nudged her with his elbow and shot her a dimpled smile.
Dayea let out a laugh through her toothless gums. “Okay, honey. Where do we go?”
Clivo stood up, getting ready to leave. “America. Have you ever been there?”
Dayea accepted his hand to help her up. “One time, long ago, before the white men arrived. But Dayea did not like the taste of buffalo, so I left.”
“Do you have a passport?” Clivo asked, peering out the curtained window to make sure The Ender wasn’t stalking the streets.
“Oh, sure, honey. In case I need to leave in an emergency.”
“I guess with the curfew, the airport won’t be open until morning?”
“No, honey,” Dayea said. Then she giggled. “One time, before the curfew, Dayea almost flew into a propeller. Not sure who was more scared—me or the pilot!”
Clivo racked his brain for a way to get them out of there. It was a small enough town that, come sunrise, there’d be no place to hide from The Ender. “Any chance you have a boat stashed somewhere so we could travel to the next island with an airport?”
Miraculously, Dayea nodded. “Always, honey. Again, in case of an emergency.”
“Awesome! Quickly pack whatever you need and we’ll get out of here,” Clivo said. He looked at her with a final thought. “Oh, and I hope you don’t eat cats.”
XVIII
The next evening, Clivo stood on Jerry’s doorstep with Dayea, ringing the bell. The door was flung open and Jerry stood there in his football helmet and pads, a golf club raised over his shoulder as if to strike them.
“Whoa! It’s me, Coops!” Clivo said, standing protectively in front of Dayea.
“I know it’s you!” Jerry yelled. “And I’m going to give you a good club to the head for running off on me like that! I was supposed to help you!”
Clivo was about to respond when Charles, Adam, and Hernando came running out. Adam grabbed Clivo’s wrist and slapped a handcuff on it. Clivo pulled back his arm in confusion, but discovered that Adam’s wrist was in the other bracelet. “Um, am I under arrest?”
Adam raised his arm and shook it angrily, the chain between their wrists rattling. “As a matter of fact, you are! Until you learn not to go running off like a dog with its tail on fire!”
Amelia came out the door just then. “Yeah, Clivo. You don’t have to keep falling on your sword, like, all the time. We are here to help, you know.”
Finally, Stephanie came running out and tried to give Clivo a hug, which was awkward with one of his arms attached to Adam. As she pulled away, she looked at Clivo’s face and gasped at the sight of his eye, which was swollen shut and horribly bruised by The Ender’s blow. “Oh my gosh, Clivo! Are you okay? This is why we don’t want you running off on your own anymore! It’s getting too dangerous.”
Amelia peered more closely at Clivo’s black eye. “Geez. I guess that answers the question of whether the evil resistance found you or not.”
Charles stood on tiptoe to peer over Clivo’s shoulder. “Who’s the grandma, dude?”
Clivo stepped aside to reveal Dayea, who was standing there in a flowery dress, her wrinkled face set in its usual joyful smile. “Guys, this is the aswang, also known as Dayea.”
“Hello,” Dayea said with a happy wave.
Stephanie’s hand flew to her mouth, “Is it … Is she … the immortal?”
Clivo quickly shook his head. “No, she’s not, but I wanted to bring her home anyway. Our job is to protect all of the cryptids, and even though it’s kind of weird that on
e of them is a human who occasionally turns into a flesh-eating bat, she still deserves our protection.”
The Blasters crowded around Dayea and introduced themselves. Stephanie gave her a hug and let out a giggle. “I like your name, Dayea. It’s very appropriate.”
“What does it mean?” Charles asked. He was watching Dayea warily, as if he thought she was about to sprout wings and fly off.
“Goddess of secrets,” Stephanie said.
“It’s a nice name,” Hernando said quietly, gently shaking Dayea’s hand.
Adam grudgingly leaned way over to embrace the tiny Dayea. “No offense, but I was kinda hoping for someone more muscular than you.”
“Don’t worry, when she shape-shifts you’ll be impressed, I promise you,” Clivo said.
“I’ll be my own judge of being impressed, thank you very much,” Adam replied.
Clivo pulled helplessly on his handcuffed wrist. “Anyway, guys, I wasn’t going to stay. I need to keep moving and not draw the evil resistance to your doorstep with this stupid chip I have implanted in me. I just wanted to drop Dayea off to see if you could keep her safe until I figure out what’s next.”
“And we’ve made it very clear,” Amelia said, stepping forward, “that you’re not going anywhere without us.”
“You guys have no idea of the kind of evil people who are tracking me!” Clivo exclaimed. “The guy who punched me calls himself The Ender, and I have no doubt he would happily end any of our lives to get what he wants. Trust me, I need to get away from you!”
A throat cleared behind them and Clivo spun around to find Mr. Cooper standing in the doorway, with Mrs. Cooper and Aunt Pearl huddled behind him. “All right, kids. We’ve been happy to play dumb about what’s been going on with you, but enough is enough. Time to give us some explanations.”
Jerry sighed in exasperation. “What do we need to explain to you, Pops?”
Mr. Cooper raised his eyebrows. “Well, you could start by explaining why there’s a very old woman standing on my doorstep, and end with where Clivo has been for the past three days and why it looks like someone has been using his face as a punching bag.”