Brothers of Chaos (The Unstoppable Titans Book 1) (13 page)

“What the
hell are you doing?” David asked.

“Look, man,
there’s something I have to tell you,” Les said nervously.

“Who invited
you, because I know I sure as hell didn’t?”

“Listen,
it’s about that Michael guy you met at the arcade last night—”

David pried
himself from
Les’s
grip. “Dude, you better be gone by
the time I’m done taking a leak.”

And before
Les could say another word, David was in the bathroom.

*
 
*
 
*

Daniel was
on his fifth beer. The room was spinning but he didn’t care. He felt great. And
he really liked his new friend, Michael, who claimed to be on his ninth beer,
but seemed completely sober.

“You are a
freak of nature,” Daniel joked.

Michael
tipped his beer to Daniel and laughed. Daniel couldn’t help but notice Michael
constantly scanning the living room as if he were looking for someone.

*
 
*
 
*

David opened
the bathroom door and peered out. Les Huntington was gone. But now someone else
was walking up to him. It was Curtis Merriman, and he looked worried.

“Have you
seen Marco?” he asked David.

“No. Why?”

“I haven’t
heard from him at all since last night at the arcade. Remember? He was talking
to that redhead. Do you think Marco got his butt kicked or something?”

David stood
there for a moment. Hadn’t Les just mentioned something about Michael and the
arcade? The last time David saw Marco, he had been having a heated discussion
with the weird redhead.

Did Michael
do something to Marco? It was almost unthinkable, considering how tough Marco
was. But no one had seen him since that night. What could that mean?

Chris stared at the dogfish as
it swam in its tank. He massaged his temples lightly; a headache was forming.
He had taken a few aspirin, but so far they proved ineffective.

Owen was
poring over some dream books in the living room, but Chris was taking no
notice. He couldn’t stop staring at the hideous—yet oddly cute—creature swimming
around in front of him. Was there a nest of these things, and if so, should he
go after it and destroy it?

His head
started to throb again. All thought was suddenly pushed out of his mind and he
couldn’t concentrate. The pain was growing in intensity and everything became
nonexistent to him. He moaned.

After a
minute, the pain subsided. When Chris was able to focus again, he saw Owen
standing on the other side of the tank, apparently talking to him.

“What?”
Chris asked.

“I asked if
you were okay.”

“No. My head
is killing me. I think it might be from the bite.”

“Does
Bentley fascinate you?”

“Who’s
Bentley?” Chris asked, rubbing his temples.

“The fish.
That’s what I named him.”

“Cute,”
Chris said sarcastically. “You do know you shouldn’t name him; you’ll just wind
up getting attached.”

“Too late;
I’ve grown a soft spot for the ugly monster.”

Chris smiled
and rubbed his head again. The headache was getting worse. He cast a sideways
glance toward Owen.

*
 
*
 
*

A moment
later, Owen propped Chris’s feet on to a big fluffy pillow, as Chris got
comfortable on the couch. Owen suppressed a laugh and handed him a book, the
one about the young wizard. Chris had a confused look on his face.

“What are
you doing?” he asked Owen.

“Making you
comfortable for your transformation into a hell-beast. You want anything?
Pickles with peanut butter? Anything?”

“I’ll save
that for when I’m pregnant,” Chris said as he opened the book and started
reading. “Seriously, what is this?”

“This is me
humoring you. Nothing is going to come of that bite you got from Eric. You’re
worrying over nothing. He’s not a vampire!”

“This isn’t
‘humoring’; this is you being an ass. I seriously think something bad is going
to happen to me and…” He paused as he thought of Stephanie.

“You two are
fine,” Owen said, as if he’d read Chris’s mind. “Maybe Eric and those other
guys are the only ones of their kind: freaks of nature, like Bentley. If it
were contagious, don’t you think we’d be waist-deep in monsters like them?”

“Maybe, but
I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions until we find Eric.”

“Are you
talking about capturing him alive?”

“I don’t
know,” said Chris. His head was starting to get worse. “I think it’s worth
considering, so we can question him.”

Owen didn’t
respond, but he looked a little grumpy.

“You don’t
agree?” Chris asked.

“It just
seems better to kill him and get it over with. Like I said, I don’t think he’s
a vampire and, besides, every time they try to capture the monster in the
movies, it always winds up escaping and killing everybody.”

“This isn’t
a movie,” Chris snapped.

“I know; it
would be a very boring movie. Our lives aren’t interesting enough.”

Chris
laughed at that. It was true: They’d only killed five monsters since starting
their monster-hunting venture, and all had been fairly easy to dispatch.

But those
days were over. Now one of the monster hunters had been bitten by one of those
very creatures; plus, there was a weird fish-monster added to the mix. Their
lives were becoming more fascinating by the second.

“Do you really
think capturing Eric is necessary?” Owen asked.

“I do. Maybe
we can make an antidote out of his venom—if he has any venom, that is.
Then
we can kill him.”

“Something’s
going to go wrong,” Owen protested. “It always does.”

“Just don’t
let him get away next time.” The words were out of Chris’s mouth before he even
realized it. He looked at Owen and could tell he was mad. “I’m sorry,” he
added.

“Nothing to
be sorry about,” said Owen. “I did let him get away. He almost bit me and I
used my Rejecter on him. I should’ve just let him bite me; that way, you and I
could be in the same boat and I could whine and moan, too.”

Chris didn’t
say anything. Instead, he jumped up from the couch, grabbed his car keys and
left. Owen didn’t go after him. He looked back at the tank, where Bentley was
swimming in place, keeping an eye on Owen.

“Where did
you come from?” he asked Bentley, pausing for an answer he knew he’d never get.

Owen paced
the condo restlessly. He was jacked up and needed something to do. He thought
of looking for Eric, but he didn’t have a clue where to begin, and he knew if
he went after him alone, he would wind up killing the monster. Better to wait
for the others.

What else
was there to do, though?

Then the
thought came to him. Owen grabbed a leash and collar from Daniel’s room (from
Daniel’s pet-owning days) and scooped up the small aquarium holding Bentley the
dogfish. He grabbed his keys before he left.

Minutes
later, he walked along Trident River with Bentley on the leash. He left the
fish tank in the car; he figured Bentley could survive outside the water for a
certain period of time, seeing as how the creature had done it when it chased
him and Chris through the woods earlier.

Owen’s hope
was Bentley would lead him to a secret nest, if indeed one existed. After the
dream he’d had during the softball game, there wasn’t much doubt in his mind
the dogfish could be dangerous. Bentley himself was fairly tame, but if there
were more dogfish out there, chances were they couldn’t be trusted to be the
same.

Bentley
hopped up and down, sometimes running too far ahead only to get yanked back by
the leash. They had been walking up and down the river for thirty minutes.
Bentley seemed to be enjoying the walk, not heading in any particular
direction. A few times, the two of them even headed back the way they’d come.

Owen grew
frustrated.

“Come on,”
he said to Bentley. “Show me where your family lives so I can kill them.”

Bentley
looked up at him now with his bulbous eyes, his fishy head tilted to the side.

“You don’t understand
me, do you?” Owen asked.

Bentley
continued to stare, then, finally went to the river’s edge and took a drink.
Owen sighed in frustration and even contemplated going home. But then there was
a hard tug on the leash. Bentley had broken free and was now riding the rough
current. Owen ran alongside, trying to keep up; he couldn’t let Bentley get
away.

Bentley was
way ahead of Owen now, but Owen was keeping up. He’d always been incredibly
fast, even when he was a kid. He used to race his friend Cullen all the time
when they were young and always left him in the dust, even though Cullen was
taller. Owen had only gotten faster since then. How else would he have caught
up with Eric last night?

Bentley,
however, wasn’t going with the flow anymore; he was going against it. Owen
couldn’t believe his eyes. Bentley was actually swimming upriver, and at a
surprisingly fast pace. Owen turned and headed in that direction. It wasn’t any
easier keeping up, though.

Finally he
saw Bentley climb out of the water and into the woods on the other side of the
river. Owen was coming up on to Briar
Jorsen
Road,
which passed over the river. He jumped up to the street, ignoring the honking
cars, and jumped back down to the path. He stared at the woods in front of him,
preparing himself. He tapped his jacket pocket, which appeared to hold a few
small, clinking objects inside, and headed in.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris drove
aimlessly through the city, not knowing where to go. He loved driving a stick
shift; it made him feel cool. He didn’t like it when the weather was bad,
though. Once, while showing off to Owen during a rainstorm, Chris had peeled
out of a movie-theater parking lot and slid right into a ditch due to the
slippery road. It only took a minute to back out of it, but it had still been
embarrassing.

“Sorry for
almost killing you,” Chris had said.

“That’s all
right,” Owen replied.

“I was
talking to the car.”

They had
both laughed at that little moment. Owen still reminded him of it every now and
then, much to Chris’s dislike.

He didn’t
want to go back to headquarters and face Owen’s ridicule, and he sure didn’t
want to go to David’s party. He liked David and all, but the party noise would
surely make his still-throbbing headache worse. He wanted to be with Stephanie,
but he didn’t know where she was. He didn’t think she’d want to return to her
own house after what happened, but he decided to give it a shot.

*
 
*
 
*

It was
apparent almost from the beginning that Owen was lost in these woods. Even with
the flashlight he brought along, it was impossible to see much. Every now and
then, he heard the sound of tiny feet scuttling around on leaves. He assumed it
was Bentley, but wasn’t sure.

He just kept
going, pushing branches out of the way to keep from getting his face scratched.
He tripped on a rock occasionally, but he didn’t let it stop him.

Finally,
after fifteen minutes, he heard rushing water, but it wasn’t as loud as the
river. He assumed it was a stream. After a minute or two, he found out he was
right. A stream lay before him. He looked up and down it. There were rocky
surfaces all around, with a huge rock wall on the other side of the stream.

Owen headed
upstream on a small path, not really sure where he was going. He knew there was
an apartment complex nearby (he’d passed it while walking Bentley earlier) but
he could not see it now. He continued following the path for a few minutes when
he heard splashing. Then, he heard a low moan. It almost sounded like a whale,
only not as large.

The path
along the stream abruptly ended, causing Owen to step into the water to
continue, but the moment he did, he slipped on the rocks underneath the
surface. He fell with a loud splash.

He tried
pushing himself back up, but the moss covering the rock floor was incredibly
slippery. Finally he got his footing and continued carefully up the stream. He
slipped a few more times, scratching the palm of his left hand a little. It
started to bleed, but Owen didn’t pay much attention to it. He shined the
flashlight up ahead to see if anything was there, but he saw nothing.

He continued
for at least twenty minutes, slipping every now and then on the mossy rocks. It
was becoming unbearable. His heart beat rapidly. He was regretting handling
this alone but there really wasn’t anyone to help. Chris had stormed off and
Daniel and Alyssa were at a party Owen had refused to attend himself.

Finally he
found himself near a pond. The moaning was louder, and so was the splashing. He
approached slowly, hiding behind a bush.

All he could
see, though, was a boulder in the middle of the pond. It was poking out just
slightly through the surface of the water, but it was what was swimming around
the boulder that shocked Owen most: At least a dozen dogfish were in the water,
swimming in circles. Owen was sure Bentley was among them, but he couldn’t
tell; they all looked the same. Each had softball-sized eyes sticking out the
sides of their heads, with black fur covering their reflective scaly bodies.

And then,
suddenly, the boulder moved. Owen was sure of it. The moaning got even louder.
It appeared to be coming from the boulder itself. Then it hit Owen like a punch
to the face: The boulder wasn’t a boulder at all; it was another dogfish. It
was the king of the dogfish.

“There you
go,” said a young voice. Owen saw a boy appear at the edge of the pond. He had
a clear plastic bag filled with large chunks of something and was feeding them
to the dogfish. All but the king swam over to the young man. They were now
making weird yelping sounds that reminded Owen of hungry dogs.

It was hard
to tell from here what the boy was feeding the creatures, but they seemed to
like it. Owen wondered if the boy fed them often; they seemed to have taken a
liking to him.

Suddenly the
bag was empty.

“Sorry,
guys,” the boy said. “I’m all out.”

He held up
the bag to emphasize the point. The tiny fish-creatures began making a new
noise now, an unhappy wail. Now the big dogfish seemed to take interest in the
young boy standing on the edge of the pond. It started wobbling toward him. The
boy took a step back as the other dogfish jumped out of the pond and nipped at
his legs.

“Guys, I
already said I was sorry. I don’t have any more hot dogs.”

He sounded
nervous. He was backing away from the pond when he tripped and fell on his
back. The dogfish were on top of him in an instant. Owen started to take a step
forward when the big dogfish gave a great roar from its bulbous body. The other
creatures became even more aggressive.

Owen reached
into his pocket and pulled out a small object. It was a Buster. He was about to
activate it when the big dogfish turned toward him and moaned the loudest moan
it could muster. All the other dogfish stopped attacking the boy and faced
Owen. It was one of the creepiest things he had ever seen. The dogfish wadded
in place as if waiting for further instructions from the big daddy.

The king
gave a great croaky roar and the tiny dogfish suddenly began swimming toward
Owen. He activated the bomb and was about to throw it toward the big dogfish
when he slipped on the rock he was standing on. (This moss would be the death
of him.) The Buster fell into the water somewhere, but Owen couldn’t see it. He
started to run when he slipped again, the dogfish right on his tail.