The Chupacabra

by Jean Flitcroft

  First American Edition published in 2014 by Darby Creek, an imprint of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  Copyright © 2011 by Jean Flitcroft

  First published in Dublin, Ireland in 2011 by Little Island as The Cryptid

  Files: Mexican Devil by Jean Flitcroft

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

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  Front cover: © Cynoclub/Dreamstime.com.

  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Flitcroft, Jean.

  [Mexican Devil]

  The Chupacabra / by Jean Flitcroft.

  pages cm. — (The cryptid files ; #2)

  Summary: “Vanessa’s summer holiday on a ranch in Mexico is turned upside down as she enters a shadowy world of mysterious animal death, magical curses and dark family secrets. As she tumbles headlong into the mystery of El Chupacabra she starts to understand why some call it the Mexican Devil”—Provided by publisher.

  ISBN 978–1–4677–3265–9 (lib. bdg. : alk. paper)

  ISBN 978–1–4677–3484–4 (eBook)

  [1. Chupacabras—Fiction. 2. Mexico—Fiction. 3. Horror stories.]

  I. Title.

  PZ7.F65785Ch 2014

  [Fic]—dc23

  2013024084

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1 – SB – 12/31/13

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-3484-4 (pdf)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-5113-1 (ePub)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-5112-4 (mobi)

  To Ian, the love of my life.

  CRYPTOZOOLOGY

  A cryptid is an animal that some people claim to have seen and which may exist in nature but which has not been accepted by modern science. Scientists who study these creatures are called cryptozoologists. This comes from the Greek word kryptos, meaning hidden, and zoology, meaning the study of animals.

  The first book in this series is about the Loch Ness monster. In this book it’s the Chupacabra—a creature in Mexico that prowls at night, drains the blood of other animals to survive, and has the eyes of the devil.

  PROLOGUE

  The air was thick, the heat intense, and Vanessa felt beads of sweat rise like blisters on her skin. She stumbled on into the dark, her hands outstretched as she blindly fingered the air. As she moved, cactus spines scratched her leg and a stone jabbed painfully into the sole of her bare foot. Maybe she should go back, she thought.

  Something snuffled and grunted nearby, and insects clacked and ticked all around her. In the dark Vanessa struggled to make sense of the sounds and then, through it all, she heard a terrible, high-pitched squeal. She stopped suddenly, her legs like lead weights. She probably wouldn’t be able to run away even if she tried.

  There was something behind her now. The cracking of a small twig sounded like a gunshot in Vanessa’s ears. She turned slowly, forcing herself to look. At first she thought she saw a human face, a face that she knew. But the harder she stared, the farther the face retreated into darkness and another one took its place.

  Vanessa found herself looking straight into a large, salivating mouth with razor-sharp fangs. Above it two glowing red eyes pulsed to the sound of her heart, which pounded in her chest.

  Too shocked to scream, Vanessa took off. She didn’t feel the cactus tearing her skin this time or the cuts on her knees when she fell. She got up and kept running. Another high-pitched squeal just in front of her finally made her stop. The anguish in the cry echoed her own pain, and her legs gave way. She fell heavily on something. It felt warm and furry and the feel of it repelled her. What was it? An animal? The Chupacabra itself? She squirmed away until she could feel the hard ground beneath her again and then lay still. Total exhaustion overcame her. Instead of leaping to her feet, she lay waiting for the Chupacabra to strike; she could smell him in the air. Vanessa began to shiver uncontrollably.

  CHAPTER 1

  The Chupacabra is a mysterious creature that has killed thousands of farm animals in Mexico and other Central and South American countries. The strange thing is that it kills its prey by draining their blood. As goats were the first reported victims, this deadly cryptid has been called el Chupacabra, which is Spanish for “the goat sucker.”

  He looked like an army general—an immaculate green uniform with brass buttons, a stiff peaked hat, and a gun in a highly polished holster at his hip.

  Vanessa and Nikki gave him their best smiles. But even that wasn’t enough to change his expression. He stared sullenly at them.

  “Pasaporte,” he said abruptly. When he continued in a stream of Spanish the girls looked at each other helplessly.

  “Lo siento, sorry,” Vanessa said as they handed him their passports. She hoped that an apology in Spanish might soften him up.

  No joy. He took a long time examining their passports and then looked up doubtfully. The girls squeezed each other’s hands and hoped he wouldn’t ask them any more questions in Spanish. Finally he stamped the passports with a vigor that seemed quite over-the-top and, with a wave of his hand, dismissed them.

  They bolted through to the baggage hall and found the carousel. While they waited for their bags they laughed about “the general.” It had been funny but a bit scary too.

  “OK, customs now. Hopefully we won’t get arrested or—”

  “Don’t even think it, Vanessa!” Nikki burst out. She wasn’t used to traveling as Vanessa was.

  It was a huge relief when they finally made it to the arrivals hall where Nikki’s aunt and uncle were supposed to be meeting them. Unfortunately it was very crowded; way too crowded. The girls stopped and scanned the sea of faces.

  “Wow, I know that Mexico City has over twenty million people, but I didn’t think they would all be at the airport to meet us,” Vanessa tried to joke. “I wonder …”

  But the look on her friend’s face stopped her. Nikki was very worried now—she looked close to tears.

  “We’ll find them, Nikki, or they will find us. Either way we’ll be fine,” Vanessa reassured her.

  The words were no sooner out of Vanessa’s mouth than she spotted them. She elbowed Nikki and pointed, her finger trembling in excitement.

  “Look, over there. Isn’t that your Uncle Joseph? I think I recognize him from the photograph you have. He’s looking around, but he hasn’t seen us yet. Go on, wave, see if he waves back.” Vanessa hesitated. “But … is that … could that really be your aunt?”

  The woman beside Joseph was staring into the distance. She looked cool and detached, like a film star from an old movie. She was dark-skinned with inky black hair knotted high on her head. She was tall and slim, with the tiniest waist Vanessa had ever seen. But most striking was the way she was dressed: a fitted top with jewels sewn into the neckline and layers of colorful skirts right down to the ground!

  “I don’t know.” Nikki shrugged. “Never met her before. Her name’s Frida, and she’s Mexican; that’s all I know.”

  “She looks as if she’s going to get out her castanets and dance across the terminal,” Vanessa said, craning her neck to see if there was anyone else waiting for them. “No sign of your cousins, though.”<
br />
  Nikki’s cousins were around their own age, a girl of thirteen and a boy of fifteen. Vanessa hoped desperately that they would be OK. She and Nikki were going to be spending four weeks with them on their ranch, after all. At first glance Frida certainly looked a bit strange. But at least Joseph was reassuringly normal. Stocky, with a bit of a belly. A real red-faced Irish farmer.

  Nikki gave a hesitant wave, and when the man’s face lit up and he hurried toward them, they knew they had hit the jackpot.

  “Actually, I’m more interested in that other man standing beside them. The one who looks like he’s just been to band practice,” said Nikki.

  Vanessa giggled. Her friend was herself again. The porter did look striking in his bright-red uniform with gold buttons and black trim.

  “Posh or what? They certainly like their uniforms over here,” Vanessa muttered as they walked over to meet Nikki’s aunt and uncle.

  Frida said nothing when Joseph introduced her to the girls, just gave a ghost of a smile. Maybe she didn’t speak much English, and their Spanish certainly needed work. That was one of the reasons Vanessa’s father had allowed her to make this trip.

  The porter took the girls’ wheelie bags and led the way out of the terminal building and into a blast of Mexican heat and noise. Horns were honking, people shouting, trolleys trundling and children crying all around them. Wow, they had really arrived!

  Vanessa found the sun blinding and dived into her bag for her sunglasses. When she looked up again, Nikki had moved a few steps ahead and appeared to be talking to Frida. She couldn’t make out what they were saying. Were they speaking English or Spanish?

  Vanessa hung back a little more—she was tired and it was nice to have a moment to herself. The airport had been stressful, but it was great to be here. She loved the intense sunshine, the feel of the heat on her skin, but she was definitely feeling a bit lightheaded too.

  Vanessa’s eye was caught by a young woman in jeans and a white shirt walking slowly toward her.

  She looked quite ordinary at first, but then Vanessa noticed something strange. No, she wasn’t walking, exactly; she was gliding, floating along a couple of inches above the ground. Vanessa blinked. The heat must really be getting to her, she thought. She was about to call out to Nikki but her voice caught in her throat. OK, the woman was not just floating now, she was also wearing … was it a coat of feathers? And a mask, maybe—something with a beak, anyway. What on earth was going on?

  Vanessa ran forward and grabbed Nikki by the elbow. Nikki and Frida both looked around.

  “What’s wrong?” Nikki asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Look!” said Vanessa, pointing. But the bird woman had disappeared. “I could have sworn I saw … a giant bird. Or … I mean, maybe a woman dressed as a bird.”

  Nikki laughed. “Oh, Vanessa! That imagination of yours.”

  Friends often told her that she was fanciful. “Full of notions,” her father called it. But Vanessa knew better. Sometimes she really did see things that other people couldn’t.

  “No, no, I really did …”

  Frida said nothing but gave Vanessa a long, cool look from under her heavy black eyebrows.

  “It was probably someone in fancy dress,” said Nikki soothingly. “Maybe there’s a festival on. It is Mexico, you know.”

  Yes, it was Mexico, and it was a long way from Dublin. A small window of anxiety opened up in Vanessa, but she said nothing.

  “Come on, girls,” called Joseph in his Galway accent. “The limo’s waiting.”

  And it really was a limousine—long, black, and sleek, with a chauffeur in another uniform and a peaked cap. Nikki thought it looked beautiful, but it reminded Vanessa of a funeral car. She gave a little shudder as she climbed in.

  CHAPTER 2

  Where Chupacabra attacks have happened, the authorities have tried to attribute the killings to known predators such as dogs, foxes, hyenas, or coyotes. But in most cases there have been puncture wounds in the necks of the animals through which the blood has been drained, and this has never been explained satisfactorily.

  The road they took from the airport was extremely busy. Trucks spilled over with fruits and vegetables, and flatbed trucks were piled high with old fridges and TVs. Most of the cars were so old that Vanessa was amazed they could move at all.

  “Look at that one, Nikki,” she said, pointing to a car with no windscreen. “Its hood is tied down with string.”

  “There’s a swanky car, though,” said Nikki. “It’s got tinted windows.”

  “Drug dealer,” said Joseph. “Or maybe a politician. Either way, it’ll be bulletproof.”

  Vanessa and Nikki exchanged glances. Bulletproof!

  “Coke cheap—almost free!” Vanessa heard someone shout when they stopped at a traffic light. It was a boy, holding bottles up to the car windows as he strolled between the cars. He looked about ten, the same age as her younger brother, Ronan, and yet there he was, out on the street dodging traffic and trying to earn some money.

  Most of the houses they passed were only half built, with rooms open to the streets. The girls pointed things out to each other: an old man sitting in an armchair, strumming his guitar, in the middle of the pavement; a toddler playing with pots and pans on his own, too close to the road. It was all so strange and very different from Ireland.

  “How much longer to the ranch?” Vanessa asked Nikki as they drove along.

  “Another three hours,” Joseph chipped in.

  Three hours! It had been a very long day already.

  “Have a sleep, maybe,” Joseph suggested.

  It was all too exciting to sleep, though. Nikki plugged her earphones into her iPod and Vanessa pulled a folder out of her backpack.

  “You’re not going to study, are you?” Nikki asked.

  “You know me. I just want to brush up on my Spanish verbs,” Vanessa joked and then laughed at the expression on Nikki’s face.

  Nikki grabbed the folder and read the heading.

  “El Chupacabra. Oh, so it is Spanish after all. What does it mean?”

  “It roughly translates into English as ‘the goatsucker,’” Vanessa said with great emphasis on the words.

  “Eeuugh!” said Nikki. “That’s disgusting. What on earth are you reading?”

  “Oh, cryptozoology,” said Vanessa casually.

  “What?”

  “It’s the study of cryptids … kind of like weird animals. The Loch Ness monster is one. Remember, my mum was always interested in them.”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Nikki. “Your mum …”

  “It’s OK,” said Vanessa. “I like to remember her. This is one of her folders that I found in the attic. It’s about a Mexican cryptid—the Chupacabra. It kills its prey by…”

  “On second thought,” Nikki said quickly, “I don’t really want to know, thanks, Vanessa.”

  CHAPTER 3

  There have been many eyewitness accounts of the Chupacabra. While they vary in detail, most describe a creature with four legs. It can walk upright or jump on two legs when it chooses. It is fast and agile and prowls at night.

  The entrance to the ranch was marked by an impressive set of gates. Grand enough to lead to a French chateau rather than just a farm, Vanessa thought. The tops of the gates were elegantly arched and the word Martinez was inset in wrought iron.

  “What does Martinez mean?” asked Vanessa.

  “I’m Frida Martinez.” It was the first time she had spoken to Vanessa. Her voice was throaty and she was very abrupt.

  Vanessa started. “Oh, I see,” she mumbled.

  “My grandfather came here over one hundred years ago from Barcelona. This is the biggest ranch in the area. Six thousand acres.”

  The odd thing about the entrance was that the gates stood alone. There were no railings or fences running from them, no barbed wire as there would be on an Irish farm, only the huge gates standing in glorious isolation.

  The car swung through the gates
and Vanessa and Nikki squeezed each other’s hands in anticipation. A cloud of red dust rose up around them as the tires hit a pothole and spun free.

  Tall trees lined the driveway for the first few hundred feet, but they soon dwindled out, and it became more of a dirt track than a drive. Around them the flat open fields stretched into the distance, dotted with cacti and small trees with gnarled trunks.

  At last a low, sprawling stone house came into view, shimmering in the afternoon heat. It was old and very beautiful, with huge stone pillars and a veranda.

  Vanessa got out of the car, trying to pack up her bag at the same time. She was startled when a pack of dogs of all shapes and sizes appeared from behind the house and ran toward them, barking noisily.

  There were two spaniels with bloodshot eyes, a huge Alsatian, and two small terriers with ridiculously short legs. But Vanessa’s eye was caught by a weird-looking dog that was standing apart from the pack. He was black and entirely hairless. This one stood absolutely immobile, looking directly at Vanessa, his ears pricked. They were large triangular ears, more like a bat’s ears than a dog’s, and far too big for his small head. His body was muscular, and his broad shoulders were tensed like a boxer’s.

  Vanessa was just about to say something to Nikki about the dog when a girl emerged from the house, shouting at the dogs in Spanish.

  “Vanessa, that’s my cousin, Carmen!” said Nikki.

  ‘”I’ve seen a photo of her. Isn’t she pretty?”

  Carmen’s jet-black hair was cut in a straight fringe and was tied in two long plaits. Her clothes looked expensive: a white linen dress and leather sandals. She was way too dressed up for a dusty ranch, Vanessa thought.

  At the sound of Carmen’s voice, most of the dogs had dropped to the ground and rolled onto their backs for a tummy rub. It was hard not to be impressed. The hairless dog remained standing, however, still as a garden statue, watching Vanessa.

  “You’re very welcome, Nikki and Vanessa,” Carmen said in perfect English, putting out her hand like an adult.