by Peter Nelson
“Abbie!” She was breathing but didn’t stir. He shook her again, then scooped up some of the snow. He began to rub it on her face, not noticing the green river drifting closer overhead. As the poisonous drops began to hit the patch of snow below their feet, it burst into a thick vapor, overtaking Jordan’s senses. He fell backward, rolling down the slushy slope.
Jordan lifted his head out of a snowbank. There was less green mist here below the peak, and he fought with all his might as his body and mind tried to shut down. He stumbled back toward the slope. He had to get back up to his sister. After struggling a few steps, he slipped and slid back down. Then he heard a horrible, snickering laugh.
Jordan forced his eyes to focus. He saw fresh tracks in a swath of untainted snow behind him. They were mismatched footprints, one clawed and the other much bigger and apelike. Even in his hazy state, Jordan knew those tracks could only belong to one creature. He stumbled as he followed the tracks, groggily making his way toward the laughter. He rounded a large rock and stopped short. There he gasped at what he saw.
“No! Get away from him!”
Chupacabra’s head snapped around to look back at Jordan. He was looming over a furry white heap crouched against the rock. It was Wilford.
“Grimsley! How nice of you to join the party!”
Jordan struggled to stay conscious as Chupacabra stepped toward him. He held something behind his back with one of his claws. With the other he was carelessly tossing a small red stone in the air. Jordan tried to focus on reality, to hear what the creature was saying.
“You look tired, Georgie boy,” Chupacabra whispered. “I told you, one way or another, you’d lead me right to what I wanted. And so you did.”
Jordan strained to look past Chupacabra. All he could make out was a glimpse of Wilford’s back. He didn’t appear to be moving. Chupacabra stepped closer to Jordan, blocking what little view he had. “That stream of precipitation between Everest and this hideout served as a nice, clear path for me to follow,” he said, flickering his scales menacingly, tossing the ruby-like stone in the air and catching it. “And once I dived into it, my Hydro-Hide basically did the rest, carrying me right to the Yeti’s doorstep.”
“No.” Jordan struggled to speak. “Don’t hurt him. He just wanted to be alone.”
“Precisely!” Chupacabra cackled. “Which is why I have you to thank, for coaxing that abominable idiot out of his shell, and sending me such a clear signal! It would’ve taken me forever to find him up here!” He leaned in even closer to Jordan. “You really are becoming quite an asset, Georgie boy. I’m so glad I didn’t get around to killing you.”
“Don’t hurt him . . .” Jordan’s voice drifted off. Everything felt like it was closing in on him.
“Hurt my dear old friend? Now why would I do that? I just popped in to clean him up a bit! If he’s going to reintroduce himself to the world, he needs to look presentable. So I gave him a little trim!”
Chupacabra grinned. Jordan’s head began to spin. He heard the echoing laughter of the cackling creature. He was holding something up like a trophy. Jordan fought to keep his eyes open. He focused on what Chupacabra had in his other claw. Then he saw it.
It was Wilford’s massive mustache, shorn clean off, clutched in the horrible claws of Chupacabra. Jordan weakly reached out to try to grab the Blizzard-Bristles, but the cackling creature yanked it out of his reach. Jordan felt himself fall forward, his face hitting the cold snow.
Then everything went dark.
22
“Jordan, wake up! Jordan, can you hear me?”
Jordan’s eyes shot open wide and he immediately felt a burning in his nostrils. The stringent odor was very different from the stinky-foot smell of the valerian root. Its effect couldn’t have been more different, either—he felt like he was being shocked back to life. It made his eyes water and his entire face tingle.
Eldon held a small, broken twig under Jordan’s nose—the same one he’d used to wake up Corky. “Oh, thank goodness!” He grinned, then yelled over his shoulder. “He’s all right! Jordan’s going to be all right!”
Zaya and Bernard rushed over and greeted Jordan.
“Whew!” Bernard said. “You had us worried!”
“So happy you’re okay, Jordan.” Zaya stood up. He began pumping a large tank strapped to his back. It was connected by a tube to a spray wand he held in his hand. He trudged off, pumping his tank and spraying an orange mist into the air.
Jordan sat up. “Where’s Abbie?” Jordan said. “Is she okay?”
“She’s okay,” Bernard said. “But go easy. You guys have been conked out up here for a few days.”
“What?” Jordan looked around. The entire mountaintop was a slushy, muddy mess, spotted with dirty green sludge-spots, which Zaya was busily spraying with his orange mist. The whole place looked like a war zone.
“Luckily, Zaya and Bernard were successful in finding that Siberian root and getting it back to the CKCC, where Katsu derived an antidote. They were in the process of synthesizing it on the sub when they got my distress call. That orange spray neutralizes the gas, in any of its forms. I’m just sorry that we got here too late to stop all this damage,” Eldon said.
Jordan stumbled a bit but found his feet and stood. His head was clearing, and his vision was less blurry. He didn’t like what he could see.
“Fresh snow will return to this place,” Eldon said. “But I’m afraid the monks’ underground canyons below were completely flooded. When the water came rushing in through the shaft you three came through to get up here, we knew something horrible had happened. But we didn’t expect this. Somehow Chupacabra managed to gas this whole mountaintop with that awful valerian-root stuff.”
“I saw it,” Jordan said. “Up on the peak, when I first woke up. He created some sort of toxic sludge out of it. As it dripped onto the snow, it melted it and vaporized into that horrible, stinky gas.”
“But how did he get it up here?” Eldon asked. “How did he even find you?”
Jordan thought for a moment. “The trail of crystal snow. It led all the way to Everest,” Jordan said. “We used it to keep an eye out for Chupacabra. It was a ready-made river in the sky. A clever creature with a Hydro-Hide could manipulate it to carry him directly back to us.”
“And deliver that valerian gunk along with him,” Bernard added.
“But this wasn’t Wilford’s fault. He was just trying to help. He—” Jordan stopped cold. He looked around. “Where is he? Where’s Wilford? Is he okay?”
Bernard and Eldon glanced at each other. Eldon nodded up the slope, toward the peak of the mountain. “You’d best go see for yourself.”
Eldon ran up the slushy slope, remembering how his Grampa Grimsley’s footprints had been washed away in the green goo. As he reached the top, he suddenly remembered something else—the last thing he saw before he blacked out. A panic gripped him as he looked out at the flat rock.
Wilford sat there in his cross-legged meditative position, facing the great horizon to the north. Jordan knelt down behind him and put his hand on Wilford’s furry shoulder. He was hoping what he remembered might somehow be a nightmare, but he knew it had been all too real. “Wilford,” he said gently.
The Yeti did not turn to face him. “It is not your fault, Jordan Grimsley. I should have known better than to get involved with matters that were not my concern.”
“Please. Let me see.”
Wilford turned his head. The great, bushy mustache had been shorn clean off. “It seems my Blizzard-Bristles have been stolen,” he said calmly. “Quite literally right from under my nose.”
Jordan was speechless for a moment. “Wilford, I’m so sorry. But do you know what this means? Chupacabra may have the power of the Perfect Storm! We have to find him and get back what he’s stolen—from you, from Nessie, and from Syd!”
“There is another way,” Wilford said. “To stay up here and hope that there is a fourth elemental power Chupacabra needs to complete the P
erfect Storm—and that the creature who has it never makes it known.”
“Wilford, that’s not a plan,” Jordan said. “That’s just a hope.”
The Yeti sighed heavily. “I know, young Grimsley. But it’s all I have. And right now, it’s the only thing keeping me from being hopeless.”
“Listen to me,” Jordan said. “I know things seem bad. But we can find Chupacabra, and we can stop him. We can get your Blizzard-Bristles back if we work together as a team.”
The Yeti stared off into the northern sky. “I have nothing to offer a team. Please, young Grimsley. I wish to be left alone.”
“But what if you’re wrong. What if there are only three special cryptids, and he now has the power he needs to complete his plan. He could hurt millions of innocent people, and creaures, too! The world would be thrown out of balance forever.”
Wilford faced Jordan. “Keeping the world in balance—is no longer my concern.”
Jordan felt his stomach drop. He stood up and stepped back. He stared at the Yeti. Then he heard his sister.
Abbie reached the top of the slope, her dark eye shadow running down her face. She was crying. Jordan left Wilford and rushed to her.
“Abbie,” Jordan said. “I know. It’s horrible. But at least we’re all okay.”
Abbie shook her head. “I’ve looked everywhere. Morris is gone.”
“Chupacabra must have taken him,” Jordan said. “But listen to me, Abbie. He won’t kill him. He can’t, and he knows it. Remember what Wilford said?” He looked over at Wilford, sitting with his back to them. “We’re going to find him,” Jordan continued, loud enough for the Yeti to hear. “And we’re going to get Morris back safely. We’re gonna take back everything that monster has stolen from us.”
Eldon helped Jordan and Abbie onto the Heli-Jet, then signaled to Bernard and Zaya in the cockpit. As they lifted off the wet, slushy mountaintop, Jordan couldn’t help but hope Wilford might suddenly come running toward them with a change of heart. As they circled over the northern peak of Mount Kanchenjunga, he peered down at the flat rock, hoping to see the Yeti waving for them to pick him up. But Wilford was gone.
They descended across to the four smaller peaks of Mount Kanchenjunga, then swung around and landed on a flat valley between the two lowest ranges, just a short climb above what was Banyan Canyon. The cargo door of the Heli-Jet slid open. Jordan, Abbie, and Zaya all gazed out upon a makeshift camp.
It was a horrible sight. The Kanchenjungan mountain monks who weren’t injured were busily tending to the many who were. Some were setting up yak-hide yurts for shelter, others were kneeling beside their fellow monks lying on the ground, administering the orange antidote.
“Where are we?” Abbie asked. “What is all this?”
“C’mon, I’ll show you,” Eldon said.
Still others were pulling the last remaining waterlogged monks up a long rope ladder that hung from a steep cliff.
They all walked to the edge of the cliff. More monks were climbing the steep rock, many with injured or unconscious brothers on their backs. Banyan Canyon was underwater, just as Eldon had described. All they could see now was a large lake. The series of slot canyons that once hid the underground home of the monks was completely flooded. Abbie stared vacantly at the last few soggy monks being pulled up to safety.
“Chupacabra’s become a lot more dangerous,” Eldon said. “Even without the power of the Perfect Storm, there’s no telling what he might do next.”
“Wilford didn’t know anything about a fourth special cryptid,” Jordan said.
“Well, if there is one out there somewhere, we’d better find it before he does.”
“You mean him.” Abbie spoke up from behind them. She wiped a tear away. “The fourth special creature is . . . him.”
“Morris?” Jordan said. “Abbie, I know how special he is to you, but—”
“I just know it,” she said. “Why else would Chupacabra kidnap him?”
“What would be his special power?” Eldon asked. “Turning to stone?” Abbie glared at him. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound mean, I just don’t see how—”
She turned away and shuffled off toward the camp.
“She’ll be okay,” Jordan said. “Either way, we have to find Chupacabra, and fast. Any ideas?”
“The only thing I can think of is your GCPS system. Last we saw Syd’s old collar, it was attached to Corky’s tail. If that giant worm is still doing dirty work for Chupacabra, maybe we can get get a read on that collar and locate the both of them. Bernard’s repairing the Heli-Jet now. He nearly burned it out trying to get up to rescue you guys. Once it’s up and running, we should be able to access its onboard GCPS system.”
“What about the mountain monks? Will they be all right?”
A gentle voice from behind answered his question: “We have survived worse,” said the monk who was not named Jagger. “Not much worse, but worse.”
Jordan, Abbie, Eldon, and Zaya spent the night helping feed and take care of the monks who were hurt in the flood, while Bernard repaired the Heli-Jet. The next morning, they loaded what supplies the Kanchenjungan mountain monks could spare onto the tuned-up Heli-Jet. Then the monks gathered around to see them off.
Jordan pulled Jagger aside. “Thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”
“I extend the same sentiments to all of you.”
“Us? But it’s because of us the sacred snow at the peak of the five treasures was melted! Your home was destroyed, Wilford was stripped of his Blizzard-Bristles, and he’s wandered off and will probably never trust another human being again.”
“The universe works in cycles, young Grimsley. In time, the top of Mount Kanchenjunga will once again be replenished with snow, just as sure as the heart of the Yeti will be refilled with warmth. From what I have learned, it sounds as if you reawakened the Yeti’s soul more than anyone since your grandfather. And so I am sure that Wilford, and the sacred snow, will return to us again. So yes, I thank you.”
Jordan smiled. Then he thought of something. “Wait. What about the fact that we destroyed your home?”
“I will not lie, young Grimsley. That was a major bummer.”
23
Bernard piloted the Heli-Jet south, toward the Bay of Bengal. As they circled the warm water where they’d crash-landed, he and everyone on board—Jordan, Abbie, Eldon, and Zaya—stared down in disbelief.
The entire Bay of Bengal was now completely frozen over. “Looks like Chupacabra’s figured out how to use the Blizzard-Bristles he stole, too,” Jordan said.
He and his friends circled over Sandwip Island, where the howler monkeys huddled together on the beach, their home covered in snow and ice.
Flying farther out, they saw the ice had spread far across the Indian Ocean. “Gosh,” Eldon said. “Do you know how cold it has to be for an ocean to freeze like that?”
“There’s no one out there,” Abbie said, quietly scanning the frozen wasteland below. “Not a soul. I sure hope Nessie, Alistair, and Kriss are okay under all that ice.”
“Is this the Perfect Storm Chupacabra wanted?” Eldon said. “Another ice age?”
“He wouldn’t need all the other elemental powers to do this,” Jordan said. “Just Wilford’s Blizzard-Bristles. I’m afraid he might have something much bigger planned.”
“What’s bigger than freezing over half an ocean?” Zaya asked.
Frzzt! The cockpit radio suddenly crackled to life. “How about burying an entire continent under fifty feet of snow? Come in, Creature Keepers! Is that you?”
Jordan, Eldon, and Abbie leaped from their seats and crowded into the cockpit. Eldon grabbed the transmitter first. “Denmother Doris! Gosh, it’s good to hear your voice!”
“Eldon! I’ve been trying to reach you for days! Are Abbie and Jordan okay?”
“We’re okay,” Jordan said, glancing at his sister. “But we’ve got a few cryptids who’ve gone missing.”
“You don’t know th
e half of it! We’ve got a monster migration on our hands! Despite the massive blizzards hitting their areas, a bunch of ’em have gone AWOL again. I’m tracking ’em now!”
Jordan began fiddling with the Heli-Jet’s GCPS as Abbie spoke into the transmitter. “Which ones, Doris? And where are they heading?”
“They’re all from countries south of the Himalayas—East Africa, India, Thailand, Malaysia, even as far south as Christmas Island, and heading north as we speak. Alistair, Kriss, and Nessie were tracking them from below, until they got blocked in by the oceanic ice!”
“Oh, no,” Abbie said. “Are they all right?”
“Don’t you worry about that crew, dearie. They’ll find their way out. Before I lost contact with them, Nessie was looking for a safe place to surface. They should have plenty enough air to last them ’til she does.” This didn’t make Abbie feel any better.
Eldon slid open the cargo door. A whoosh of cold air filled the cabin as he peered down at the snowy surface below. There was no sign of any submarine, and no sign of any wandering cryptids, either. Just snow-covered ice, as far as the eye could see. He yelled toward the cockpit. “Bernard! Try to get us lower, closer to the ice!”
“Yes, sir!” Bernard dived the Heli-Jet, then cut the jets and used the rotors to hover over the frosty Bay of Bengal.
Jordan had pulled up the GCPS and was studying the dots on the monitor grid. “I’m tracking them, but it looks like they’ve crossed the icy ocean and are already on the other side of the Himalayas, making their way north!”
“Look! There!” Zaya had joined Eldon at the door. He pointed at the ice below.
“Good work, Zaya!” Eldon yelled to the cockpit, “There’s a set of tracks out here! A slithering groove in the snow! Looks to be serpentine. My best guess is it’s Randy, the Sri Lankan Naga, and he’s headed north!”