Sam felt a sudden shooting pain in his upper arm. He turned back just in time to see Vance injecting a dark red fluid into his body, right below his shoulder. Sam pulled away, but not fast enough. The injection was complete, and Vance yanked the hypodermic needle out of Sam’s arm. Sam grabbed his shoulder, rubbing it in pain. It felt like a dozen bee stings all in the same spot. He stared daggers in Vance’s direction.
“Ow! What did you do? What is that?” Sam cried.
“I’m sorry, kid. I had to. You need to see.”
“See what? See that you’re crazy? That you’re some kind of sicko?”
Suddenly, the SUV was rocked by an unknown force, yet they were still moving. Vance pointed ominously to the hood of the car.
“To see that.”
Sam turned toward the front of the SUV and his mouth fell open. There was a creature on the hood. A moving, breathing nightmare of a creature. The impact he’d felt was the beast landing on the car, its immense weight denting the hood. Its skin was smooth and hairless and was colored a dark sickly gray. Its head was that of a demon—horns protruded from its temples; it had a wide nose that snorted like an angry horse, black eyes without pupils, and a mouth with two long white fangs that curved over its bottom lip. It had two arms and legs, but each limb ended in a handlike appendage with five talons instead of fingers. And then there were its wings. They reminded Sam of the wings of a bat. They extended from its back, spanning at least seven feet, and were composed of the creature’s gray skin, which was stretched to the point that it appeared almost translucent. It cried out with that same terrifying squawk they had heard back at the hospital.
Sam screamed in horror as Vantana swerved in and out of lanes in a vain attempt to shake the beast loose. The gargoyle didn’t budge. It leaned forward and punched at the windshield with a clenched fist. The glass remained intact.
“Thank God for safety glass!” Vantana exclaimed with relief.
The creature reeled back for a moment and stared into the vehicle. Sam could see the gears spinning in its head. This monster was thinking, working things out. After a brief pause, it leaned forward once again. This time it pointed with one of its talons and with the tip traced a square in the glass. It struck the windshield in the middle of the tracing and the glass square popped in. Sam caught it in his hands.
“Uh…Vance?” Sam muttered, almost too paralyzed to speak. Vance was preoccupied with avoiding accidents with other cars and keeping an eye on the side mirror. God knew what else was coming. The gargoyle reached into the car and grabbed the edge of the now-open square. It tore the windshield from the SUV as if it were peeling an onion. That got Vance’s attention. He looked at Sam, who looked back at him. The two screamed in unison.
“Hit the brakes!” Sam finally called out.
Vance slammed his foot down on the brake pedal and the SUV skidded along the road, kicking up dust and gravel in its wake. The momentum was too much for the gargoyle to handle. It careened off the hood, and Vance gunned the engine. But the gargoyle simply stretched out its wings and flapped them a few times, catching itself and remaining airborne. Vance zoomed ahead and passed the beast, which easily turned and kept pace with the SUV. It flew alongside them and stared menacingly into the car.
The SUV was rocked again, and the cries of more gargoyles could be heard over the noise of the punishing wind rushing through the open windshield. They were on the roof now. Another appeared, flying along the passenger side. One of the rooftop gargoyles reached down into the SUV, grabbing for Sam. Vance tried the brake trick again, but this time the gargoyles were anticipating it. They held on to the hood with their foot claws and one was able to pull Sam out from behind his seat belt. He tried to hold on, but the vinyl was too slippery in his perspiring hands. He quickly lost his grip.
“Sam!” Vance yelled, and reached for him, grabbing Sam’s arm. The gargoyle was in the air now, flapping those massive wings. Vance and the gargoyle were having a tug-of-war with Sam’s arm. It didn’t last long. Sam wailed in pain and Vance’s hand began to slip. The two of them locked eyes for an extended moment as they both realized what was about to happen. Sam could see the fear and desperation in Vance’s expression. It was odd for him to see such sentiments in an adult. Whether it was his mother, a teacher, doctor, police officer, or even Vance—up until this moment, Sam had always found that adults projected confidence around children. The fact that Vance appeared to have lost control of the situation finally broke Sam’s tough exterior.
“Vance!” Sam screamed in absolute terror. He could feel his eyes welling up with tears.
“No!” Vance yelled as Sam’s hand finally slid from his grasp. As if in slow motion, the gargoyle lifted Sam from the SUV and took flight.
* * *
Classification 470 (Personnel Records)
Vantana, Vance
Activation Date: ********
By the time Vance Vantana was ten years old, he had become one of the best trackers in Blount County, Tennessee. His father had started schooling him early, taking him into the Great Smoky Mountains when he was just five. The two spent three weeks in the woods, hunting and fishing and surviving in the wilderness. It was on this trip, and the many others that followed, that Vance’s father taught his son not only how to live in nature but how to understand it.
No doubt influenced by their Cherokee heritage, the Vantana family were strong believers in the power of animal omens—according to them, the animal world was constantly communicating with humans, but it was up to humanity to decipher their language. It was a language of symbol and totem. If you could read the signs, you just might avoid danger.
* * *
Vance hadn’t been reading those signs that night in Bakersfield; he had been too caught up in the excitement. And now he was paying the price. He had just witnessed his charge, a boy named Sam London, getting plucked out of his car by a gargoyle. It wasn’t long before Vance lost sight of Sam; luckily, he didn’t lose the scent. The gargoyle’s scent, that is, not Sam’s. Upon meeting Sam for the first time, Vance noticed he wasn’t able to pick up the boy’s smell. This was a strange phenomenon that Vance had yet to encounter when dealing with an animal, human or otherwise. Every creature smelled a certain way, except this boy. But he would have to get to the bottom of this oddity later; Sam was in mortal danger, and Vance was his only hope. He threw the SUV into four-wheel drive and pulled the car off the highway and onto the desert floor. He could only pray he would find the boy in time.
—
Sam watched the SUV grow smaller as the gargoyle flew farther away. The rest of the “flock” was now following. The creatures remained low and soared silently over the desert landscape. As they continued on their path, Sam spotted a small town and scattered neighborhoods. He couldn’t see Vance’s SUV anymore, and he wondered if he would see anyone ever again. What did these creatures have in store for him? Sam’s heart was racing, thumping so hard he could feel it in the tips of his fingers. His tears had dissipated, replaced with sheer terror. It was a fear of the unknown, a dread that he could be facing his end. He thought of his mother and what he had put her through these last twenty-four hours. If anything happened to him, would Nuks continue the ruse? He hoped for his mother’s sake the creature would take his place, but that didn’t seem very likely. At some point he would return to his normal form and Ettie would know the truth. Sam’s seemingly innocuous dream had led him to a reality he would have never imagined possible. In that moment, he wished he had just left the gryphon well enough alone.
Angry with himself, Sam squirmed in the gargoyle’s grip. The creature’s claws were digging into his shoulders. He could feel the skin breaking, and knew he must be bleeding. He shifted again to help avoid the pain, but he must have shifted too much. The gargoyle lost its hold on Sam. He was now in a free fall—heading perilously toward the waiting earth.
Sam fell fast, but he didn’t fall far. His death cry, which he let loose as soon as he realized he was no longer in the gar
goyle’s grip, was short-lived but impressive. When he hit the ground, he thought, Wow, death isn’t all that painful. It kinda feels like jumping into a pool. He quickly concluded that he had fallen into a pool. He took in a mouthful of water, and the chlorine instantly stung his eyes. But he was alive. He pushed off the bottom and sprang to the surface, popping out like a piece of toast. He was immediately struck by the flash of lights and an abundance of noise. Talking. Conversations. He was disoriented and swam to the edge. A moment later he was being lifted out of the water by a man in a suit. But this was no ordinary man.
“Who are you?” the man asked with a menacing growl. Sam couldn’t answer; he was too stunned by the man’s appearance. He was about the same size, physically, as a man, even spoke like a man, but he had the head and body of a dog. His skin was covered in short, dark fur. His face was utterly canine—a long muzzle with a moist nose and pointed ears. He looked like an upright German shepherd. And he didn’t seem particularly thrilled with his surprise guest. He snarled at Sam, as did the other dog-people gathered there. Sam could discern seven or eight of them in total—both males and females.
“Answer me, boy,” the dog-man said more forcefully. The creature spoke with a British accent and had streaks of gray in his fur, leading Sam to conclude he must be older.
All Sam could muster was a very uncouth “You’re a dog.”
The growls and snarls suddenly stopped. The others gasped at the utterance and awaited their friend’s response. The dog-man eyed Sam for what seemed like an eternity and breathed his warm, wet breath against Sam’s face. And then the dog-man began to chuckle, softly at first, but it soon transformed into a laugh. A big laugh. As though Sam had told the funniest joke ever. The others took that as their cue and also began laughing. Amid the laughter—
“Very perceptive. You look worried. Are you a cat in disguise?” the dog-man asked. That spurred more laughs, and then one of the others spoke up.
“Maybe we should eat him and find out.”
The dog-man responded, “Yes, Chad, I believe you’re quite right. It has been a long time since we’ve feasted on cat. Though I remember it tasting like chicken…”
Sam panicked and screamed for help at the top of his lungs. “Somebody! Help! Please!”
“Shhhh,” the dog-man silenced him. “This is a quiet neighborhood.”
“Sam!” a male voice yelled from the night. The dog-people looked toward the sound’s origin and found Vance Vantana hurriedly entering through a gate at the side of the pool’s deck. He rushed toward Sam, but the dog-people growled and moved to intercept. The dog-man waved his hand and the others instantly stopped.
“Vance? Vance Vantana? Is that you, old friend?” the dog-man asked.
“Chase?” Vance replied, much to Sam’s surprise. “What the heck are you doin’ so far from ol’ Blighty?”
“This is home now. Well, one of them, anyway. I thought you knew I had retired,” the dog-man, apparently named Chase, answered.
“I heard about that. Just didn’t expect you to retire here,” said Vance. “In the middle of nowheresville.”
“The dry air is good for my lungs, and you get a lot for your coin. I assume you’re here for this tiny human?” Chase offered Sam, whom he still held suspended a few feet off the ground.
“Yep. Sorry ’bout that. I’ll take him off your paws.” Chase handed Sam to Vance like a rag doll and Vance quickly placed him back on solid ground. “Are you okay?” he asked Sam in a genuinely sympathetic tone. Sam nodded.
“Thank God I landed in that pool,” he said.
“Would you care to tell me what in heavens is going on?” Chase inquired.
“Sam and I—we were being attacked by a pack of gargoyles, and one of the little monsters managed to get their claws on him.”
“Gargoyles?”
“It’s a long, long story,” Vance said without going into detail.
“Well, I suppose it’s just blind luck, then, that you landed in my pool,” Chase said to Sam, who nodded in return. “Or was it the gryphon’s luck?”
Sam’s eyes immediately shifted to Vance, who simply grinned at the mention.
“Word travels faster than a Tennessee squirrel in a snake pit,” Vance quipped.
“After all these years, when someone sees ‘him,’ it’s awfully big news,” Chase explained. “Does he”—he nodded at Sam—“have the sight or—”
Vance shook his head.
“What did you give him?” Chase asked curiously.
“Magnapedaxin thirteen.”
“Let’s hope it’s more stable than twelve,” Chase responded with a smirk. Sam looked at Vance, concerned.
“What’s he talking about?”
“I’ll explain later,” Vance whispered. He shifted his attention back to Chase. “I reckon it is. It’s runnin’ through these veins as we speak.”
“Always Penelope’s guinea pig.”
“She needs someone to test this stuff on. And I’ve got a heckuva good nose, but without that enhancement, I sure as God made little green apples wouldn’t have picked up the scent of those gargoyles so far out. Bought us some time, for certain. I take it they didn’t return?”
Chase shook his head. “I imagine they saw my guests and decided it wouldn’t be wise to crash this party. Cynocephali and gargoyles—we were never very chummy. Though I’m a touch disappointed they didn’t descend on us. I miss the action, Vance. There was never a dull moment,” he said with a nostalgic smile. He looked directly at Sam. “I am, however, happy you dropped in, quite literally, on our little garden soiree. Perhaps you could help me quell a burning curiosity? I wonder, what did Phylassos say to you?”
“I already tried. This one is still a bit slow to trust,” Vance said.
“Smart boy. Well, I am at your disposal, Dr. Vantana and Mr. Sam…?”
“London,” Sam offered.
“My favorite city,” Chase remarked. “I am more than ready to come out of retirement, if required, particularly now. It sounds as though there are very exciting developments on the horizon for us all.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that,” Vance said pensively. “Well, we best get to leaving and let you all enjoy your party. Apologies for the interruption.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” said Chase.
“Excuse me?” Vance responded.
“It’s much too late. Mr. London here is soaked to the bone and has been through quite a scare. You’ll stay here tonight and enjoy my legendary hospitality. You can continue on your way in the morning.”
Chase offered Sam his paw. “Let’s see if we can’t find you something dry to wear.”
Sam looked to Vance for approval. The doctor considered for a long moment, then finally nodded. Sam smiled. He liked the sound of getting out of his wet clothes and getting some sleep.
—
The answers to all Sam’s questions came later that evening as he sat at Chase’s dining room table and nursed a hot chocolate. He had to admit, for a dog-man, Chase made a mean cup of cocoa. Sam reminded himself that he had to stop referring to Chase as a “dog-man.” According to Vance, Chase was part of an ancient and proud race of mythical creatures known as the cynocephali. They were believed to have originated in Southern Asia before migrating to Greece sometime during the fifth century BC. Sam had come across the cynocephali in one of Knox’s books. Given their canine appearance, they were initially considered savages by the humans who encountered them. Although their race had aggressive tendencies, there were those who aspired to be accepted into civil society. Sam wanted to learn more about Chase and his mysterious brethren, but that would have to wait. It was time to just get the basics squared away.
As the dryer spun the excess water from Sam’s clothes, he settled into the dining room chair, snug in one of Chase’s plush robes, and listened to Vantana and Chase describe a world he never knew or could ever have imagined existed.
“I work for the Department of Mythical Wildlife,” Vantana ex
plained. “We’re sort of like the Department of the Interior’s invisible cousin, the one who’s in hidin’ and no one ever talks about.”
“And I work, or rather worked, for the Agency for the Welfare of Mythical Beasts,” added Chase. “We’re the British counterpart to the Americans.”
“You said mythical, right?” Sam clarified.
“Yep. That’s right. We manage the relationship between mythical creatures and humanity,” revealed Vantana.
“But—”
“I assume you’ve always believed that such creatures do not exist,” Chase concluded. “And yet here I am, right in front of you. And you’ve already seen a gryphon and a few gargoyles.”
Sam nodded.
“They are all around us, Sam. They always have been,” Vantana explained.
“But no one else can see them?” asked Sam.
“Humans can’t see them,” Chase replied. “At least, not all humans. You can now because Dr. Vantana gave you something.”
“That injection. In the car,” Sam responded. Vance nodded. “You called it mag…” Sam tried to remember the name he had heard earlier.
“Magnapedaxin thirteen,” Vantana interjected. “It’s a serum that was synthesized from the blood of—”
“Blood? From what?” Sam interrupted, completely unnerved at the thought that blood other than his own was now pulsing through his veins.
“I believe the animal is referred to as a Sasquatch,” Chase answered matter-of-factly. “Isn’t that right, Vance?”
“We call them bigfoot, or bigfoots, I suppose.”
“Bigfoot? You shot me up with bigfoot blood?” Sam said, exasperated.
“Calm down, kid. It’s not gonna kill ya. It’s the only way humans can see these creatures.”
“By injecting them with bigfoot blood?”
“By injecting them with a serum synthesized from the blood of mythical creatures,” Vance corrected him. Sam was understandably overwhelmed, not only by recent events, but by the implications of what Vance and Chase were describing. And to top it all off, his heart was now pumping with the blood of a bigfoot, the legendary apelike creature of the American Northwest. It was named after the large footprints discovered by California road workers in 1958. Though mainstream science dismissed the idea that such a creature existed, Sam had been an ardent believer in bigfoot and currently had the proof right inside him. Of course, it wasn’t likely anyone would believe him; he still wasn’t sure he believed it himself. None of this made any sense. How could these creatures be living among humans and not be detected? Why did it require their blood to see them? Sam remembered something Vance mentioned in the car, before the gargoyles attacked.
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