by Peter Nelson
“It’s working!” Jordan said. He reached out and touched one of the stones. It was warm, but he could pull it out. “Abbie, help me!”
Abbie knelt beside the cryptid. She and Jordan quickly extracted the remaining blaststones from Chupacabra’s Hydro-Hide. It was badly damaged, with large swaths of scales missing or burned off.
“He’s going to be okay,” Jordan said.
“You saved him,” Abbie said.
Jordan smiled at his sister. “We saved him.”
The others stared at Jordan and Abbie for a moment. Jordan could tell what they were wondering: But why? Jordan shrugged. “He’s a creature. And we’re Creature Keepers.”
Mr. and Mrs. Grimsley smiled at the two of them. “Well, then you’re probably going to want to see something,” Mr. Grimsley said.
“Yeah,” Abbie said to Jordan. “This is pretty weird. Even for us.”
Syd and Wilford kept a close eye on Chupacabra, while Buck, Alistair, and Harvey kept the onlooking locals and tourists at a safe distance. Abbie and her parents led Jordan over to the Face Chompers, gathered in a tight group. They moved aside when Jordan and Abbie approached.
There on the concrete pier was the eggsteroid, split wide open. Its two halves were lying side by side, each of the thick, black shells filled with a boiling, fiery-red liquid.
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Jordan and Abbie got as close as they could, but the radiation coming off the molten substance was even more intense than the heat of the blaststones.
“It looks like it’s alive,” Abbie said.
“What is it?” Sandy said from behind.
“Is this the fourth special?” Donald chimed in.
“Don’t get too close, kids,” Mr. Grimsley said.
“Wise advice,” Wilford added. “That stuff looks like it could melt all of Mount Everest.”
“Super gnarly,” Syd said.
They all looked up at Syd and Wilford. “Hey, what are you two doing here?” Abbie said. “Who’s watching over Chupacabra?”
“Don’t worry,” Syd said. “He’s out cold. Besides, I asked that jelly dude to keep a few dozen eyes on him.”
“Whoooooaaaaaah!” A gelatinous blob of gooey Globster sailed overhead. Hogie hit the side of the Mayan Princess with a loud splat, then slowly slid down its side, disappearing beneath the edge of the pier.
Chupacabra loomed before them, beaten and bruised but sporting a grin as wide and as sinister as ever. “I’ve been as patient as I can be, but my patience has worn thin! It is time for you—for all of you—to die!”
“You can’t kill us!” Mrs. Grimsley pointed to her children. “They saved your life!”
Chupacabra stopped. He seemed to consider this, studying Jordan and Abbie for a moment. “Well,” he finally said. “That was monumentally stupid of you, wasn’t it?”
Chupacabra cackled at them as he went to lift his Soil-Sole. “Aaaarrrggh!” He clutched his leg in pain. It seemed badly broken, and too weak to lift his heavy foot.
WHOOSH! A whipping breeze suddenly swirled around them, followed by a familiar Australian voice overhead.
“Hey, guys! I’m okay!” The flattened Globster cried out from the open side door of the Heli-Jet. It zoomed in low, knocking Chupacabra backward. The injured cryptid howled in pain as he fell back on his leg.
Bernard circled around and waved to them. Francine waved back excitedly. “It’s Hogie!” she yelled. “That little snot is on board!”
Hogie’s gelatinous body stretched from the open door like a long gloopy lifeline. Hanging by his tail off the end of Hogie’s appendage was Gilligan. He swung from the thick and stringy Globster, flinging himself over the pier. He did a triple somersault and landed right next to Moe.
“C’mon, you soggy old mop,” Gilligan said to the Trunko. “Time to get you back in the drink!” Donald and Lou ran and helped Gilligan roll their large friend toward the edge of the pier. Gilligan and Moe plunged into the water below.
Bernard hovered over the cryptids. “Face Chompers! Grab hold and hop on!”
Sandy effortlessly leaped into the side door. Lou picked up Donald and threw him into the Heli-Jet, then jumped up and grabbed its runner. Others caught a claw, foot, tail, or wing in Hogie’s stringy mass. The stretched-out, Day-Glo Globster hung off the Heli-Jet with various creatures stuck to him like a furry, freaky flytrap.
Chupacabra pulled himself along the pier, painfully dragging his bad leg behind him. He reached out to grab the dangling Globster, but Bernard lifted them out of his reach.
Paul, the last and slowest of the bunch, galloped his short legs from behind Chupacabra, trampling over the struggling cryptid as he tried to leap for the rising Heli-Jet. The dense jungle walrus failed miserably, but Gavin and Kriss swooped in to help him. They gripped his scaly back and flapped their wings, carrying him off along with the others.
The crowd of people gathered near the broken pier let out a loud cheer at the rescue operation they’d witnessed as Bernard veered the Face Chompers–filled aircraft over the water, away from the pier, and blasted away, leaving Buck, Harvey, Jordan, Abbie, and their parents standing beside the cracked-open orb.
Chupacabra pulled himself onto all fours. With some trouble, he crawled like a wounded coyote toward the bubbling halves of the orb.
“Don’t come any closer!” Jordan hollered at him. “We may have saved you once, but we won’t let you endanger another creature or human.”
“Aye,” Alistair said. “We stand at the ready.” He was beside Nessie, who along with Syd and Wilford were staring the wounded cryptid down, ready to attack him with their elemental powers.
Chupacabra stopped and tried to straighten himself as best he could, which wasn’t much. He was on all fours, hunched over, his ears and spiky hair water-slicked back atop his head. The sight of him reminded Abbie of something. She broke into her backpack and pulled out the pencil rubbing of the cave carving she’d done at the Mayan ruins.
“Jordan! Look at this!”
“That’s a really cool sketch, Abbie, but maybe this isn’t the best time.”
“This is an ancient drawing! It tells the story of the Chicxulub crater. Look at it! It’s him! Chupacabra is the one who was born here!”
Chupacabra broke into a coughing cackle. He grinned at Abbie. “Not bad,” he said.
“This means . . . you’re the fourth special cryptid,” Jordan said.
The damaged creature gazed at the glowing liquid behind them. “And you have looted my birthright, George, stealing something dear to me for the second time.” Chupacabra winced in pain as he pulled himself up and stood, his limp leg anchored by the heavy Soil-Sole. “I was cursed twice when I came into this world, Georgie. First, separated from my elemental gift that would have allowed me not just to survive but to take my place among the most powerful cryptids. And then the second curse—when I met you.”
The injured creature tried to hobble closer to Jordan. Wilford and Syd bristled.
“I was trying to find my way back here when you discovered me all those years ago,” Chupacabra said. “You photographed me, exposed me to the world. You turned me into a hunted animal and forced me into hiding. You made it impossible for me to claim what was mine. Growing without my gift made me sensitive to the blaststones that surrounded it. Even once I found a way to return, I was unable to get close to it. But I soon figured out that the elemental powers from the other three specials would allow me to overcome these obstacles. I could move the water with the Hydro-Hide, freeze the blaststones with the Blizzard-Bristles, and crack open the orb with the Soil-Sole. It was the perfect plan—until you and your Creature Keepers stopped me cold.”
Wilford stared icicles at Chupacabra. “And we’d be happy to do it again.”
“No, no, I surrender. I can see I’ve been outwitted.” Chupacabra raised his arms over his head. “I should thank you. You saved me the dirty work by going down and extracting my package for me.” He gazed again at the bubbling bowls behind Jord
an and Abbie. “I see you even went to the trouble of opening it up for me.”
“Tell us what it is,” Abbie demanded.
The creature eyed Abbie. “It’s the last element I need for the power of the Perfect Storm, of course. And the first step in Operation Pangaea.”
The magma inside the cracked shells began bubbling aggressively.
“Enough talk,” Jordan said. “If you don’t want to be frozen solid, back away.”
“Correction, Georgie—if you don’t want to be burned to a crisp, you’d better duck!” Chupacabra suddenly raised his arms higher and spread his claws. In an instant, the red-hot liquid exploded out of the two shells, flying straight at Jordan’s head. Jordan dived to the ground as the molten blobs slammed into Chupacabra’s open claws, engulfing his arms in flames. He threw his head back and let out a loud howl.
Responding quickly, Wilford shot a shock of ice across the pier at Chupacabra. The cryptid caught the arctic blast in his flaming clutches, turning it into steam. He watched, delighted, as the flames took the form of his claws.
“Behold,” he said. “My birthright and the final piece to the Perfect Storm.” He held up his arms and marveled at the glowing red flames. “MY PYRO-PAWS!”
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Jordan!” Alistair dived, pulling his friend away from Chupacabra’s feet just as the cryptid snapped an arm downward. FLOOM! His flaming Pyro-Paw shot out, stretching to melt a wide hole through the concrete pier, right where Jordan’s head had been.
The magmalike appendage retracted back to Chupacabra’s arm as he pointed his other fiery fist in the direction of Nessie, Syd, and Wilford. The three special cryptids stared back, helpless to do anything, but itching for a fight.
“I must confess,” Chupacabra said to them. “Now that I have my very own elemental power, I feel a bit guilty about having taken yours. Had you only listened to me years ago, we could have ruled the world together and we wouldn’t be here.”
“SKRONK!” Nessie reared her head up angrily and snorted at him.
His Pyro-Paw shot out, stretching across, stopping inches from Nessie’s chest. “Watch your attitude, my dear. Your Hydro-Hide won’t protect you from this. And if either of you two”—his aim turned to Syd and Wilford—“are getting an itch to stomp your feet or start huffing and puffing, remember: only one of us has all four elemental powers at his command.”
“So what now?” Mr. Grimsley yelled.
“Yes!” Mrs. Grimsley said. “You have your Perfect Storm! What do you want?”
“What I’ve wanted from the beginning. To bring the world closer together.”
“Of course,” Jordan said. “Operation Pangaea. You’re going to smash the continents together somehow, and create another mass extinction event.”
“That’s crazy,” Mrs. Grimsley said.
“Not to mention impossible,” Mr. Grimsley added.
“And stupid,” Abbie said. “Moving entire continents is too enormous to pull off. Even with the power of the Perfect Storm.”
“I don’t normally like to brag about my ingenious plans,” Chupacabra said. “But this is a really good one. And since you’re all so skeptical, please allow me to explain. With the Hydro-Hide, I’ll control the great currents of the earth to do my bidding and push the loosened continents wherever I please. The mantle they sit upon will be cracked and dislodged with the Soil-Sole. With the Blizzard-Bristles, I can create massive ice floes to wedge any stubborn continents. I’m thinking Australia might be sticky.”
“Sorry,” Abbie said. “Still sounds like a stupid plan to me.”
Chupacabra held up one of his flaming arms. “Without these, you might be right. One can’t just break off continents and move them around like puzzle pieces. I required the final element: the power to dip deep into the mantle of the earth and turn solid rock into rivers of lava. You know, to get things flowing. Obtaining the power of the Perfect Storm was just the first step. Now that I have all four elemental gifts, the real fun starts.”
He retracted his Pyro-Paw from Nessie and tried to strike a proud pose. Stepping back, he winced as he put his weight on his broken Soil-Sole leg. A few dozen crispy scales popped off his battered Hydro-Hide, falling like dead leaves onto the ground. A look of worry flashed across his face.
“Uh, hold up, there, buddy.” Buck stepped forward. “I’m no cryptozoologist, but I did play one on TV. And excepting for those oven mitts of yours there, I gotta say, you’re not really looking ready for prime time, if you know what I mean.”
“He’s right,” Syd said. “You can barely lift that Soil-Sole of mine.”
“And those Blizzard-Bristles,” Wilford said, pointing at the shorn stubble on Chupacabra’s upper lip. “It took me years of meditation and inner growth to get such a full, bushy moustache. What did you do, run it through a wood chipper?”
“SKRONK!” Nessie boomed.
Alistair chuckled. “Haggis-Breath makes a fair point. Yer Hydro-Hide is riddled with patches of burned and missing scales. Ya look like a bluefish that’s been blackened by a blind man with a blowtorch. Her words, not mine.”
“SILENCE!” Chupacabra’s Pyro-Paws blazed as he stumbled back on his bad leg. He tried his best to flutter his worn-out Hydro-Hide. Even more burned scales popped off, scattering on the pier. Chupacabra blew with all his might through his shorn Blizzard-Bristles, releasing a tiny puff of fluffy snow.
“Okay,” Wilford began moving closer to Chupacabra, his full Blizzard-Bristles twinkling at the ready. “Let’s all try taking a deep, calming breath. . . .” The wise old Yeti began to inhale carefully.
Chupacabra caught on and thrust his blazing Pyro-Paws toward them. “One snowflake and that breath will be your last! I will fry the three of you where you stand!”
Wilford backed down, carefully letting the breath out through his nose.
“You can’t kill them,” Jordan said. “As you know, killing another cryptid ties you to their same fate.”
“He’s right,” Abbie said. “Those are the sacred cryptid rules.”
“Your plan has come up short, pal,” Syd said. “The gifts you stole from us are damaged goods now. Why don’t we let these nice people all go free? Then we can work things out, just us special cryptids.”
“Like we should have all those years ago,” Wilford added.
A panicked expression overtook Chupacabra. He glanced around anxiously. Something caught his eye. “No,” he said. “It’s too late for that. And I’ve learned that letting humans go free was my original mistake. I won’t make it again!”
FLOOM! He shot his arms into the air. His Pyro-Paws extended again, arching and stretching toward the crowd gathered at the edge of the broken pier, forming a fireball. It blazed menacingly as it hung just above the crowd’s heads like an asteroid set on pause, ready to crash into the earth and kill all life in its path.
The crowd let out a panicked scream as they ducked and tried to shield themselves from the fiery deathball hanging over them. Abbie spotted the terrified Flamboyanes children. Julia and Sam covered them as their papier-mâché Alebrijes went up in flames from the radiating heat bearing down on them.
“Jordan, we have to do something! He’s going to sacrifice them all if he doesn’t get his way!”
Jordan turned to his sister. His eyes were wide. “Sacrifice. Abbie, that’s it.”
“That’s what?”
“That’s what it will take.”
Jordan stepped up to Chupacabra. He could feel the heat radiating off Chupacabra’s blasting Pyro-Paws. He swallowed hard. “You finally got the gift that was rightfully yours, but it cost you the three you stole. You don’t have the power of the Perfect Storm. You can’t execute Operation Pangaea. Face it, old friend, you’ve come up short. But I can offer you what you’ve lost. I can restore you, and give you back the power of the Perfect Storm.”
“You’re a liar, Grimsley,” Chupacabra said. “What powers can you give me?”
Jordan nodded toward Syd, Wilford, and
Nessie. “Theirs.”
There was a collective gasp from nearly all gathered around. Chupacabra sneered at Jordan. “You have ten seconds to explain.”
“It’s not complicated,” Jordan said. “As you well know, I, George Grimsley, am the creator and leader of the Creature Keepers. Under my command, these three cryptids must give up their elemental gifts to you. And they will. Right here, right now.”
“They will?” Chupacabra said.
“We will?” Wilford said.
“Skronk?”
Jordan continued. “Once you have their gifts, you won’t just be the only creature on earth with all the elemental powers. You will be the only creature with any of them. You’ll have the power of the Perfect Storm. But more than that, they will have nothing. No one could challenge you. No one could stop you. You will be the one and only supreme special cryptid.”
“I do like the sound of that,” Chupacabra said.
“And you’d have no reason to kill anyone,” Jordan added carefully.
At this, Chupacabra’s grin shifted to a glare. “What’s the catch, Grimsley?”
“No catch. All I ask is that you keep our little bet. That once you gained the power of the Perfect Storm, the first thing you’d do would be to kill me.”
“What?” Abbie exclaimed. Mr. and Mrs. Grimsley gasped.
Chupacabra took in the collective reaction from Jordan’s friends and family. The creature was grinning again. “I like the sound of that, too,” he said.
“Then we have a deal?”
“We do.”
“Good. The Loch Ness Monster, Sasquatch, and Yeti will give you their elemental gifts. In return, before you do anything else with the power of the Perfect Storm, you will kill me, George Grimsley, once and for all.”
“Say your good-byes, Georgie boy,” he said. “But no tricks.” FLOOM! The fireball retracted from above the crowd, returning to his flaming arms. He redirected them toward Jordan and the others. “I’m watching you.”