Chupacabra (2 page)

THE CRYPTID HUNTERS SAGA SO FAR …

Fraternal twins Marty and Grace O’Hara are attending the Omega Opportunity Preparatory School (OOPS) in Switzerland when they receive shocking and tragic news: Their parents’ helicopter has crashed somewhere in the Amazon rain forest of Brazil and they are missing. Two days later, their headmaster tells them they are leaving OOPS to live with a man named Travis Wolfe, who claims to be their mother’s older brother.

Travis Wolfe, a giant of a man, with unruly black hair and a shaggy beard, lives on a volcanic island called Cryptos off the coast of Washington State. He and his genius business partner, Ted Bronson, own a very profitable tech company called eWolfe, headquartered on the mysterious island. But Wolfe’s real interest is cryptozoology. He spends almost every dime he makes searching the world for mythical animals called cryptids. Now, though, much of that money is going toward finding Marty and Grace’s parents in the Amazon.

A few days into Marty and Grace’s stay on the island, a woman shows up, unannounced and uninvited, paddling a kayak. Her name is Laurel Lee. She’s a cultural anthropologist recently returned from the Congo, where she was living with a tribe of pygmies near Lake Télé. While in the Congo, she met
an old friend of Wolfe’s from his time there, Masalito. Just before she left, Masalito gave her a large, dried-out egg, claiming that it belonged to a dinosaur called Mokélé-mbembé. The egg is one of three. The other two eggs had hatched. Masalito told her that the male had died recently and the female was ill. When Laurel got back to the U.S., she took the egg to a genetics lab owned by the famous wildlife conservationist Dr. Noah Blackwood to have it tested. Noah Blackwood’s people stole the egg from her. Laurel managed to steal it back, but not without consequences. In a matter of hours, she lost her job at the university, all of her money was taken from her bank account, and her credit cards were canceled. The powerful Noah Blackwood is after her. She’s on the run.

Travis Wolfe and Noah Blackwood have been archenemies for years. Noah is rich, famous, and respected, but he is not who he appears to be. His television show,
Wildlife First
, and his animal parks around the world are fronts to make money and hide his real purpose, which is to collect rare species for his Arks and “harvest” — that is, stuff — them in their prime.

Wolfe springs into action. They have to get to the Congo to save the last dinosaur on earth before Noah Blackwood and his henchman, Butch McCall, get their hands on it. Wolfe decides to send Marty and Grace back to OOPS. The Congo is too dangerous for kids. His plan is to have his pilot take Marty and Grace to Switzerland after he and Laurel are dropped off in the Congo.

Things do not go according to plan. As they are carrying out a supply drop over Lake Télé from Wolfe’s converted bomber, Marty and Grace have an accident caused by a chimp, a bunch of bananas, and a teacup poodle. The twins reach
Lake Télé clinging to a parachute, days before Wolfe and Laurel can get there.

Alone in the treacherous jungle, with Butch McCall stalking them, Marty and Grace take up residence in a gigantic tree house built by Wolfe fourteen years earlier. While there, Marty and Grace discover that they are not twins after all, but cousins. Travis Wolfe, their guardian, was married to Rose Blackwood — Noah’s daughter. To get away from her controlling father, Rose eloped with Wolfe and they hid out in the Congo. Grace was born there; she is their daughter. And Noah Blackwood is Grace’s grandfather. But Rose, her mother, is dead, killed by Mokélé-mbembé, which bit off Wolfe’s leg in the struggle.

Marty and Grace find the Mokélé-mbembé nest. The last living dinosaur, the sickly female, has died, but she has left behind two eggs. The cousins take the eggs and escape by hijacking Noah Blackwood’s helicopter, leaving Butch and Noah behind to make their way out of the jungle on foot.

Back on Cryptos Island, Wolfe decides it’s best to leave the country for a while. He knows that Noah is going to come after not only the eggs but also his granddaughter. Marty’s best friend from OOPS, Luther Percival Smyth IV, joins them. Aboard Wolfe’s research ship, the
Coelacanth
, they head to New Zealand to catch a giant squid for Northwest Zoo and Aquarium, the rival to Blackwood’s Seattle Ark.

Butch McCall manages to get aboard the
Coelacanth
disguised as a researcher, with two co-conspirators to help him: Yvonne Zloblinavech and Mitch Merton.

The Mokélé-mbembé eggs hatch on the ship, producing two voracious and gassy baby dinosaurs.

Noah Blackwood catches up to them off the coast of New Zealand aboard his own research ship, manned with mercenaries and pirates. While Marty and Ted are in the deep on Ted’s submersible, trying to catch a giant squid, Noah Blackwood attacks the
Coelacanth
with his hired pirates. The
Coelacanth
crew fends off the assault with sonic cannons, but the pirate attack is a feint. While they are fighting on the surface, Noah sends in scuba divers to place explosive charges inside the
Coelacanth
.

Marty and Ted manage to lure a giant squid into the
Coelacanth
’s Moon Pool, but before they can congratulate themselves on their historic catch, they discover the explosives. As they frantically try to disarm them, there is a standoff up on deck.

Butch, Yvonne, and Noah’s mercenaries have bagged the Mokélé-mbembé hatchlings, and are holding Grace and Laurel at gunpoint. Noah lands his chopper on the
Coelacanth
’s helipad. Butch threatens to shoot Laurel if Wolfe and his men don’t lay down their arms. To break the impasse and protect her father and friends, Grace agrees to go willingly with her grandfather.

Marty and Ted manage to find and disarm all of the bombs. The Cryptos crew heads back to Seattle with the first giant squid ever to be captured alive. But they are dejected. They’ve lost Grace. They’ve lost the dinosaur hatchlings. And Marty’s parents are still missing….

From the darkness of his wooden den the chupacabra sensed everything…. The
whir
of fans. The
click
of the flickering lights. The
drip … drip … drip
of water. The
hiss
of doors opening. The grating sound of human voices before the doors hissed closed again. The sharp scent of his own urine in the corners of his cage. The scratching of rabbits and rodents against cold steel. The bleating of a kid goat. His belly churning with hunger….

The kid goat bleated again. It had been several sleeps since the last one.

The night before, the woman with the box had made him go to sleep. At least he thought it was her. It only happened when she was nearby with the box she held.

“Sleep!” she had shouted.

A sharp, piercing pain in his head, then the darkness.

When he woke there was something wrapped around his chest and back. He tried to scratch it off with his razorlike claws, but his claws could not reach it. He tried to bite it off, but his long, sharp fangs were not long enough to pierce it. He had tried to rub it off on the bars of his cage, but that had made the chafing and constriction worse. Finally, he had given up
and simply accepted the discomfort, crawling into his dark den, his head toward the opening, watching, listening, scenting the air.

The man with the white coat and shining mirror eyes opened the door down the hallway. The chupacabra moved farther back into his den, his powerful hind legs pressed into the corner. He was not afraid of the man, but he was fearful of the things that happened to him when the man was near.

“Hungry?” the man said.

The chupacabra did not move. He stared at the man’s hand from the darkness. The hand was wrapped in cloth as bright as the man’s coat. He had tasted the man’s blood and wanted more, but he stayed where he was … still, silent, waiting.

“I have something that will get you out of that box,” the man said.

The man disappeared from the chupacabra’s view. His feet clicked on the concrete floor. The kid goat started bleating louder. Steel doors rattled. The bleating got closer with every door rattle. Closer. Closer. Closer.

The chupacabra knew what was coming. He felt liquid dripping from his jaw. His belly rattled like the doors. But he stayed where he was. Watching. Waiting.

The final door opened. The kid goat jumped into his cage, prodded by the man with a long stick through the steel mesh.

The kid goat pranced back and forth in front of his den, bleating, bleating, bleating. The chupacabra could smell its fear.

“Dinnertime,” the man said.

The chupacabra wanted the frightened creature, but he didn’t move. He wanted the man more. He had been studying
this man for days. Watching him. Listening. Trying to lure him closer.

“Suit yourself,” the man said. “Eat or don’t eat. I don’t care.”

The door hissed open. The man stepped through. The door hissed closed. But the man did not go away. He watched through the small window in the door.

The chupacabra waited. He watched the man. He watched the kid goat pacing back and forth.

The door hissed open again. The man re-entered the room. The kid goat bleated.

“Are you okay?” the man asked. “Are you alive?”

The chupacabra didn’t move.

The man stepped closer and squatted down to peer into the den, inches from the wire mesh.

This is what the chupacabra had been waiting for. He launched himself from the den and hit the steel mesh.

Bang!

The man screamed and fell backward. His shining eyes flew off his face and clattered on the concrete floor.

The man breathed through his mouth. Big, deep breaths.

The chupacabra tried to reach him through the mesh with his claws, but the man pulled his feet away and curled into a ball.

The kid goat bleated. It stood in the corner, shivering.

The chupacabra jumped on the kid goat, sunk his long fangs into its neck, shook it once, and began to feed.

As he lapped up the warm, salty blood, he looked at the man curled up next to the wall. He could smell the man’s fear. It somehow made the blood taste better.

“I can’t say I’m sorry to be rid of those vicious prehistoric gasbags,” Luther Smyth said. “But I sure miss Grace.”

“I miss her, too,” Marty O’Hara admitted. He also missed his parents, who were hopelessly lost in the Amazonian rain forest … or dead. The vicious prehistoric gasbags Luther was talking about were a couple of Mokélé-mbembé babies that had hatched aboard his uncle Wolfe’s research ship, the
Coelacanth
, on the way to New Zealand to capture a giant squid. Marty and Grace had snagged the dinosaur eggs in the Congo. Luther still had Band-Aids on his fingers where the meat-snappers had bitten him. He also smelled like the meat-snappers, even though he had taken at least twenty showers since the last feed. It was like the stink had soaked into the pores of his skin and the follicles of his flaming reddish hair.

“Look at all those people!” Luther said.

The boys were standing on the roof of the brand-new Squidarium at Northwest Zoo and Aquarium in Seattle, Washington. The structure was huge, but not nearly big enough to handle the football-stadium crowd waiting for the gates to open. According to the news, more than a thousand people had
camped outside the entrance the night before with sleeping bags and coolers filled with food.

“You think Noah Blackwood is in the crowd?” Luther asked.

“Fat chance,” Marty said, frowning. Noah Blackwood, Grace’s grandfather, had snatched the hatchlings and kidnapped Grace. Marty would trade a thousand giant squids just to talk to her.

The NZA director, Dr. Michael Loch, opened the door to the roof and joined them.

“Quite a crowd,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

At fifteen bucks a head, Marty didn’t think Dr. Loch was seeing the crowd like he and Luther were seeing them.

He’s seeing a stream of endless cash flowing into his zoo
, Marty thought.

“What time do the gates open?” Luther asked.

“As soon as we finish the media previews,” Loch said. “There must be two hundred reporters down there right now, maybe more. We should be ready for the peds by about one o’clock.”

Marty had learned that “peds,” short for
pedestrians
, stood for zoo visitors. He looked at his watch. It was noon.

“How much did the Squidarium cost?” he asked.

“Thirty million dollars,” Loch answered.

“Let me get this straight,” Luther said. “You put up a thirtymillion-dollar building on the off chance that Wolfe would bring in a live giant squid?”

“That’s right.”

“Even though this is the first
Architeuthis
brought into captivity alive?” Marty added, showing off a little by using the scientific name for the giant squid.

“I have a lot of faith in your uncle and Ted Bronson.”

Ted Bronson was Travis Wolfe’s reclusive partner, but he’d come out of hiding aboard the
Coelacanth
long enough to take Marty down into the deep to catch the giant squid. It was lucky they all weren’t killed.

“Have you ever met Ted Bronson?” Luther asked.

Marty elbowed Luther in the side. Dr. Loch didn’t notice because he was staring dreamily at the people lined up outside the gate, dollar symbols practically flashing in his eyes.

“No, I haven’t,” Dr. Loch answered. “I understand he hasn’t been off Cryptos Island in years.”

Cryptos Island was the secret island where Wolfe and Ted Bronson lived and ran eWolfe, a company that built everything from satellites to robotic flying bugs.

Luther was baiting Dr. Loch. At that very minute, Ted Bronson was inside the Squidarium, monitoring the giant squid with Wolfe and the world’s foremost authority on giant squid, Dr. Seth A. Lepod. Dr. Lepod had gone into the deep with Marty and Ted, but missed a lot of the action because he’d puked inside his pressurized aquasuit and couldn’t see through the visor of his aquahelmet because of the spew.

Marty was certain that Dr. Loch had met Ted poolside, and he was just as certain that Dr. Loch had no idea he was Wolfe’s genius partner. Ted was a master of disguise. His other persona was a pugnacious jerk by the name of Theo Sonborn. No doubt Loch had shaken his hand within the hour. No one would mistake Theo for Ted Bronson in a billion years.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
, Marty thought.

“How many people do you think you can get through the Squidarium a day?” Marty asked, getting him off the subject of Ted Bronson.

“If we stay open until ten at night,” Dr. Loch answered, “— and there’s no reason why we can’t — I’d guess we could get fifteen thousand people in and out every day.”

Marty did a quick calculation. At $15 apiece, that would be $225,000 a day. Wolfe was getting half the gate receipts for catching the squid, which left Loch over $100,000 a day. At that rate, the Squidarium would be paid off in a little less than a year. During that same time Wolfe would also rake in about $40 million dollars, providing that the squid lived that long.

Wolfe needed the money. He was nearly broke even before they shipped off for New Zealand to catch the squid. It took a lot of money to keep eWolfe afloat, organize cryptid expeditions, and, most important — at least to Marty — keep the search going for his parents. And now they had the added, urgent challenge of rescuing Grace.

That is, if she wants to be rescued
, Marty thought.

“What do you think Noah Blackwood’s reaction is going to be to the squid?” Luther asked.

Marty gave Luther another dig with his elbow. Harder this time. Luther grunted, but ignored it.

Dr. Loch’s grin broadened, which seemed impossible considering how wide it already was. “Oh, he’s not going to be happy. Not happy at all.”

Marty wasn’t so sure. If this many people were lined up to see a giant squid, how many would line up to see a pair of baby dinosaurs?

Loch looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get ready for the press conference. Are you coming?”

“Yeah!” Luther said.

Marty grabbed Luther’s arm and held him back. “We’ll be along soon.”

Loch nodded and hurried through the door.

“What?” Luther asked, jerking free. “The press might want to talk to me.”

That’s exactly what Marty was afraid of. “We’d better find Wolfe and see what he wants us to do.”

“Party pooper,” Luther complained.

“Whatever,” Marty said.