Monsterstreet #1

by J. H. Reynolds

  What kind of people don’t have electricity in their house? This is the twenty-first century, he sulked. What am I supposed to do for the next three days?

  He glanced down at his red hoodie. The silver zipper gleamed in the afternoon light. He wondered how a piece of clothing could protect him from anything other than cold weather.

  Max then noticed a disfigured pumpkin growing nearby. It looked like an old, shriveled-up witch with tumors growing out of her face. He was just about to kick it over when a gentle voice invaded his ears. . . .

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Fezzywig! Oh, hello there, Mr. Prickles! How are the kids, Mrs. Wormsworth?”

  Max turned and saw a girl about his age wearing overalls, her long brown braids bouncing around like jump ropes as she skipped through the pumpkin patch. She patted each pumpkin, speaking to them as if they were her best friends.

  Max couldn’t decide whether he should say something, partially in fear of disturbing her daydream, but also because he suspected she might be crazy.

  “Uhh—hmm.” He cleared his throat, deciding it best to make his presence known.

  The girl froze. She looked up at him for an awkward moment with her soft brown eyes.

  “Do you have names for all the pumpkins?” Max finally asked, noticing that the blue ribbon in her hair matched the color of the sky.

  “Only the orange ones,” she teased with a playful smirk.

  They both laughed. Max immediately liked her.

  “I’m Max Bloodnight,” he said, putting out his hand.

  “I’m Jade Howler. I live next door,” the girl said, pointing to the white, two-story house beyond the pumpkin patch. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “Is it that obvious?” Max asked.

  She shot a look at his trendy tennis shoes, the newest Vans on the market. They were a stark contrast to her muddy, well-worn boots.

  “Lucky guess,” she said with a grin. “As you can imagine, we don’t get many city kids around here.”

  “I’m staying with my gramps and grammy,” Max said, motioning toward the cabin.

  The brightness in Jade’s eyes instantly dimmed.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Jade glanced down at the ground, unsure if she should say anything.

  “My dad tells me to stay away from them.”

  “Really?” Max asked. “I just met them, but they seem nice.”

  “Probably because you’re their grandson,” Jade said. “But my dad tells me to stay away from pretty much everyone.”

  Max considered this for a moment. And then he remembered that Grammy had told him not to trust anyone either—even the neighbors.

  “What does your dad do?”

  “He’s a pumpkin farmer.”

  Max looked around at the sea of pumpkins, realizing Jade’s father had planted every one of them.

  “So, what do you do for fun out here besides naming pumpkins?” he asked, hoping to ease his way out of the conversation. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure you have to make friends however you can in a place where there are only six hundred and thirty-four people in the entire county, but—”

  “There used to be more people here,” Jade revealed.

  “What happened to all of them?” he asked.

  Jade took a careful step toward Max.

  “They disappeared.”

  Max felt the breath leave his lungs.

  “Disappeared?” he repeated. “I figured they had all just moved away over time.”

  Jade shook her head and stepped closer to Max.

  “I’ll tell you what I heard at school, but you can’t tell your grandparents that I told you anything, okay? People around here don’t really like to talk about it.”

  “Okay,” Max promised, already feeling guilty.

  He was torn between his desire to obey his grandparents and the curiosity he now felt about what Jade was saying. He wasn’t sure who to trust.

  That’s when Jade gestured for them to start walking out of the pumpkin patch and through the nearby field . . .

  Toward the forest.

  5

  The People Who Disappeared

  “I heard at school that it all happened twelve years ago,” Jade began, looking around to make sure no one was watching. “Chickens, hogs, sheep, and other livestock started going missing from the nearby farms. They vanished in the middle of the night. Always during the full moon.”

  “The full moon?” Max asked.

  “Yeah. Even dogs and cats started disappearing. A few were found at the edge of the forest with their heads missing. But then . . . people started vanishing too.”

  Max felt his stomach churning. He couldn’t believe something so savage had occurred in a place as unpopulated as Wolf County.

  “Did they catch whoever did it?” he asked.

  “You mean whatever did it?” Jade corrected him.

  Max’s eyes widened.

  Jade went on, “My friend told me that soon after the disappearances began, people started claiming they saw a wolf pack late at night, led by a giant wolf, walking on its hind legs, wearing human clothes.”

  “Like a . . . werewolf?” Max asked, imagining the furry Wolfman from his all-time favorite movie, The Monster Squad.

  Jade nodded.

  “There’s no such thing as real werewolves.” Max laughed nervously. “Those kids at school are probably just making up stories.”

  “Tell that to all the people who saw it,” Jade challenged him. “Tell it to the hunters.”

  “Hunters?”

  “Yeah. As soon as the disappearances began, a hunting party was put together to track down and kill the beast. They ended up killing every last wolf in the forest. There isn’t a single one left.”

  Max felt his heart skip a beat.

  So that’s why there aren’t any wolves around, he thought, starting to put the puzzle pieces together.

  “My gramps said that my dad was the best hunter in the county. Maybe he was part of the hunting party. He died in a hunting accident when I was a baby,” he revealed. “Out here near the farm. About . . . twelve years ago.”

  Max’s and Jade’s eyes met in horrified realization. It struck Max that his father may have been killed while trying to hunt down the beast. It was his first clue—a key to help unlock the mystery that had always haunted him. From the pale look on his face, Jade could tell what he was thinking.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “If it makes you feel any better, I miss my mom too.”

  “Did she die during the disappearances?” Max asked.

  “No. She died of cancer when I was seven. It’s sort of a . . . different kind of monster.”

  “I’m—I’m really sorry,” Max said.

  Just then, they arrived at the edge of the eastern forest. A barbed-wire fence stood between them and the dark woods.

  “My grandparents told me not to go in the forest,” Max said. “Have you ever gone in?”

  “No,” Jade replied. “My dad says it’s too dangerous. Sometimes, I hear strange sounds coming from it late at night. Unnatural sounds.”

  Max thought of his grandparents’ warning and how afraid they had seemed of the forest. As he peered into the woods, he imagined what secrets might be hiding within. And he wondered if there might be more clues about his father. He didn’t know why, but something in him—morbid curiosity, perhaps—wanted to step into it. It almost seemed to call to him.

  But then he heard something that changed his mind . . .

  6

  I Don’t Eat Meat

  The man’s deep, threatening voice made Max’s and Jade’s blood curdle. They slowly turned, knowing they had nowhere to hide.

  “I said—what are you doing here, Jade?” the stranger asked again, slamming his work shovel into the ground. He was clean-shaven, tall as a doorway, and his overalls straps dripped over his shoulders like denim waterfalls.

  Jade stepped toward him defensively.
“Dad, we were just walking, and—”

  “I’ve told you to stay away from these woods. They’re not safe,” her father admonished. “And how many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?”

  He peered down at Max suspiciously. The farmer’s eyes were the grayest Max had ever seen. Grayer than a storm cloud.

  “I’m—I’m sorry, Mr. Howler,” Max apologized. “I’m staying next door with my gramps and grammy, and your daughter was just—”

  “You’re a Bloodnight boy?” he interjected.

  Max nodded.

  Mr. Howler stared at him.

  “All the more reason to stay away from my daughter, then,” Mr. Howler warned, jabbing his finger into Max’s chest. “You keep on your side of the pumpkin patch, and we won’t have any problems. Understand?”

  He grabbed Jade’s arm and began leading her across the field toward their house.

  She glanced back at Max, embarrassed, and mouthed the words I’m sorry.

  At dinner that evening, Gramps and Grammy sat at the heads of the table, spooning food out of half a dozen bowls and passing them around to Max. He stared down at his plate of juicy meat and couldn’t help thinking about how that very meat had been walking around on the farm earlier that morning in the form of a living, breathing hog. It was the first time he had ever seen his food before it was butchered.

  “Ain’t you gonna eat, boy?” Gramps’s gruff voice boomed from the other end of the table.

  “I—I don’t eat meat,” Max confessed, wishing his mom had stayed for dinner to explain his dietary habits.

  “Don’t eat meat?” Gramps asked.

  “I’m a vegetarian,” Max said.

  Gramps laughed a hearty chuckle, but soon realized that Max wasn’t joking. The old man leaned back in his chair and squinted at Max, sizing him up.

  “How ya supposed to grow right if you don’t eat meat?” Gramps asked.

  “I get protein in other ways, like cashews and protein shakes and—” Max stopped when he saw the incredulous look on Gramps’s face.

  “We have mashed potatoes and green beans in those bowls beside you,” Grammy chimed in, trying to break the tension. “By the way, did you have a nice look around the farm this afternoon?”

  Max wanted to ask Gramps and Grammy about everything that Jade had told him—the disappearances twelve years ago, if they had ever seen the man-wolf, and why everyone was so afraid of the eastern forest. But he wasn’t sure how to bring it all up.

  “I—I met the neighbors,” Max said. “The girl next door and I went walking around, and she said that—”

  Before Max could finish, Gramps set down his fork and turned to Max.

  “Listen to me, Max—you need to stay away from those folks,” Gramps chided. “You can’t trust anyone around here. It’s safer for all of us that way.”

  “Yes, better stay on this side of the pumpkin patch,” Grammy added.

  “Why?” Max asked. “Does it have something to do with the disappearances twelve years ago?”

  Gramps and Grammy exchanged a surprised look. They didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then Grammy put her palm to her forehead and moaned. “Darn migraines.” She took a pill from a prescription bottle in her pocket, put it in her mouth, then glanced out the window toward the horizon.

  “It’s past sunset,” she said. “Gramps, don’t forget to lock up the barn after dinner. Just in case. The moon should be coming up any minute now.”

  Gramps glanced at the rifle case in the corner of the room. He then grunted as he tore a piece of meat with his teeth.

  Max thought it was a peculiar exchange but didn’t say anything. He assumed that locking the barn before nightfall was a normal chore on the farm.

  But something about it felt . . .

  Odd.

  Like they were hiding something from him.

  Something secret.

  What are they so afraid of during the full moon?

  Then he remembered his conversation with his mom earlier that day.

  “My mom said that you had some things of my father’s that you wanted to pass down to me,” he said. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

  “Well, uh, we’re still working on getting it all together,” Gramps replied.

  “Yes, dear,” Grammy added. “We want it to be a surprise.”

  Later that night, Max lay in bed, watching a moth flutter against the hissing lantern on his nightstand. The cool night air swept through the screen of his open window, rustling the pages of a book resting atop a nearby shelf.

  The sounds of the night were unfamiliar to him: crickets, frogs, cicadas, and owls. Back in the city, Max could only hear sirens and horns as he fell asleep every night.

  Soon, he heard something stir outside.

  He sat up, looked out the window, and saw Gramps locking up the barn. A few moments later, Max heard Gramps come back inside the cabin and start talking to Grammy.

  Quietly, Max climbed out of bed and cracked open his door. He saw Gramps and Grammy standing in the den below, their faces aglow with drowsy light from the candle Grammy held in her hands.

  He could faintly hear their voices . . .

  “His mother said that he doesn’t fit in at school,” the old woman whispered. “Said he seems lonely.”

  “His father was the same,” Gramps returned.

  “Do you think it’s too dangerous for him to be here?” Grammy asked. “I mean, he hasn’t learned how to protect himself yet.”

  “Better here with us than anywhere else,” Gramps said. “We just have to keep him away from the forest and the neighbors, and everything will go as planned.”

  Max heard them walk up the stairs toward their bedroom at the end of the hall. He pushed his ear harder against the door, and he heard Grammy’s voice once again.

  “You really think he’s ready to know the truth about what happened to his pa in those woods?” she asked.

  “We don’t have much of a choice now. The full moon will be at its peak on the third night, and the new beast will arise. We have to make sure that Max is ready to protect himself. The talismans can only help so much,” Gramps said, then Max heard their bedroom door click shut.

  The new beast will arise? Max repeated in his mind, chilled by the words. Protect myself? And what talismans?

  A moon-scented breeze seeped through his window screen and rushed over him. He looked out toward the veiled forest.

  “What happened to you in those woods, Dad?” he murmured.

  Uncomfortable, he unzipped his hoodie and tossed it onto a nearby chair. “Silly hocus-pocus,” he scoffed, skeptical of what Gramps had said about the hoodie somehow being able to protect him. Max then lifted the silver dagger from the nightstand and hid it in the top drawer.

  As soon as they go to sleep, I’m going to look around the house for answers, Max thought. If I can figure out what Grammy and Gramps are talking about, then maybe I can find out what happened to my dad.

  He watched the full moon peeking over the horizon. His mouth stretched into a yawn, and he lay back down in bed and closed his eyes.

  Sometime in the night, he awoke to a ghastly howl.

  Just outside his window.

  7

  Missing

  Max woke up covered in sweat. He glanced at the antique clock on the nightstand and saw that it was already three o’clock in the morning.

  I feel like I just ran five miles, he thought, peeling the damp pajamas from his skin. I must have had a nightmare.

  He sat up and looked out the window. An eerie fog drifted over the earth, as if the moon had leaked a ghostly vapor. Just as he was about to lie back down, he noticed a strange light below in the pumpkin patch, jouncing around like an angry firefly.

  “A flashlight?” Max whispered, pressing his face against the cold windowpane.

  The beam hopped wildly, as if drawing in cursive upon the ground.

  At first, Max thought his eyes might be playing tricks on him, but then he sa
w the silhouette of two long braids.

  “Jade?”

  Max grabbed the lantern, put on his shoes and his father’s hoodie, then walked across the room. He was surprised to find his bedroom door already open and muddy footprints tracked all over the floor.

  Where did this mud come from? Did someone come in here while I was asleep?

  He stuck his head into the hallway. There was no sign of anyone stirring in the house, so he tiptoed toward the stairs at the end of the hall.

  As he passed by Gramps and Grammy’s bedroom, he stopped and peeked inside. The lantern light revealed his grandparents fast asleep in their bed.

  When he finally arrived outside, the cool fog swept over him, conjuring goose bumps all over his body. The soft light of the full moon bled through the clouds, making the world feel haunted and dreamlike.

  The flashlight beam was closer now. Right next to the barn. Max ran toward it, until he could see Jade’s frantic eyes.

  “Jade! What are you doing out here so late?” he asked.

  In her panicked state, she hardly stopped to acknowledge Max’s presence.

  “It’s Petunia! She’s missing!” Jade said.

  “Petunia?” Max asked, confused. “Is that one of your pumpkins?”

  “No. Petunia is my dog. She always sleeps in my room, but I haven’t seen her since dinner,” Jade explained.

  “Maybe she met another dog, and—” Max began.

  “No, no. That’s not like Petunia,” Jade replied, on the verge of tears. “I have to find her. She sheds when she’s scared, so it should be easy to track her once I find her trail.”

  Max looked out at the nearby field but saw no movement. The night was quiet and still.

  “Did you ask your dad if he’s seen her?”

  “He’s on the night shift at the lumberyard,” Jade replied. “Besides, he’d kill me if he knew I was out here in the middle of the night. Especially with you.”

  Max recalled her father’s dreary gray eyes, which had looked so threateningly at him earlier that afternoon. The eyes that had reminded him of a storm cloud.

  “I’ll help you look for her,” Max offered.