The Menagerie #2 (8 page)

Keiko had noticed, but Keiko's reaction to human emotions usually involved disgust and/or hiding, which was fine by Zoe. Sympathy from Keiko would only have made things worse.

“Fine,” Keiko said. “But if we get caught, I am so letting them ship me back to Japan.”

“Sounds awesome,” Zoe muttered.

Three hours later, they were pacing in the parking lot near the picnic area of the reserve—the same part of the park where they'd caught a griffin cub on Saturday. According to Logan, Yump still hadn't forgiven them for the cheeseburgers trick, although his new fish-and-vegetables diet probably wasn't helping his mood.

Streaks of clouds gathered overhead, blocking most of the moon and making all the shadows jump and seethe. The wind whipped fiercely through their jackets. Blue and Keiko seemed to have some kind of Mostly Human immunity to cold, but Zoe shivered and stamped her feet, wishing she'd worn boots instead of sneakers.

The lot was mostly deserted, apart from one empty car and one minivan, which made Zoe a bit nervous. Was someone camping out here, in late October on a Sunday night? Or did one of the cars belong to the werewolf? The minivan seemed familiar; Zoe had the weird feeling she'd seen it in this exact parking lot before, but she hadn't been here that often—and she wasn't really into cars, so most likely she was imagining things.

“Why are we waiting for your boyfriend?” Keiko demanded. “He isn't essential to finding this thing;
I
am.” She twisted her braids up onto her head and clipped them in place, so the ends stood up like little fox ears.

“He's not my boyfriend!” Zoe said. “And from what we've seen of him so far, he probably
is
essential. Besides, this was his idea.”

The coughing rumble of an engine reached their ears. Something was approaching from the main road, but it wasn't Logan's bike.

Zoe, Blue, and Keiko darted into the shadows behind the restroom building, where they'd hidden their bikes. They crouched and peered out as a rickety van shambled into the lot and wheezed to a stop not far away.

“Isn't that our van?” Blue whispered.

“Shh,” said Zoe. The Menagerie's old blue-gray van had been battered enough before a griffin cub had gone nuts in it on Friday. Now there were dents and long scratches on the roof, where Clink had landed, and the back door she'd knocked off had been reattached by Matthew and Dad in a makeshift way that Zoe was pretty sure involved duct tape. So yes, that was definitely their van.

Matthew climbed out of the driver's seat, lifted a clanking duffel bag out of the back, picked up the tranq gun, and strode into the forest. In two minutes, he'd vanished into the trees.

“Huh,” said Blue.

“I guess he had the same idea we did,” Zoe said.
What does he know?
she wondered.
Why is he here, too?

She realized a small part of her felt like,
Oh, Matthew's on the case, now we can go home
. But there was also a part of her that wanted to find the werewolf before he did. And there was a third, not so small part that was starting to loudly point out that maybe they were both crazy to be doing this.

Is Pelly's murderer out here right now?

And are we heading straight toward him?

L
ogan flew along the dark streets of Xanadu on his bike, glancing up at the round silver moon overhead. It was much later than he'd hoped. He kept imagining Zoe and Blue alone in the woods with a werewolf, where he had sent them. He was trying very hard not to think about the sheep or Pelly.

Not that my being there will be much help
. . .
but still, I would rather be there.

Keiko could just turn into a fox and escape if she needed to. Logan wondered if she'd stay to help if the others were attacked. He found that a bit hard to imagine.

Finally the trees of the reserve loomed up ahead, and he skidded into the parking lot on his bike. Zoe waved him over to where she, Blue, and Keiko were crouched in the shadows behind the restroom building.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he joined them. “My dad was up typing on his computer for an hour longer than I expected. I finally stuffed pillows in my bed and went out the same window Squorp came in, except it turns out that's a lot easier with wings, because there are these dumb hedges right out there that tried to eat me alive.” He brushed leaf debris out of the short, dark fuzz of his hair.

“Well, I'm glad you're finally here,” Zoe said. She plucked a twig off the shoulder of his jacket.

“Me, too,” said Blue.

Logan tried to squash his grin. He shrugged. “I'm not a hundred percent sure I can get back inside in one piece, but I guess we worry about that after we catch a werewolf.”

“I'm not going to worry about it at all,” Keiko said. “Let's go already.” She took a few steps into the field where the grills were, stopped, and took a deep breath.

“What do you smell?” Zoe asked.

“Parking lot,” Keiko said. “And burned charcoal. Blech.” She took off running toward the nearest hiking trail, and the others ran after her.

“Hey,” Logan said to Zoe, panting as he ran. “Anything new about Pelly or Scratch?”

Zoe shook her head. “Just that we have to pick a jury on Tuesday. And Mom and Dad are arguing about whether we can afford a fancy SNAPA lawyer to defend Scratch, which we clearly can't, because Pelly's golden eggs were pretty much our entire income.”

Keiko stopped again after about twenty minutes of running. She wasn't even breathing heavily. Logan and Blue collapsed on a boulder while Zoe crouched and gasped for air.

“You are being unreasonably loud,” Keiko said crossly.

“
You're
being unreasonably nonhuman,” Zoe said.

Logan shivered, cold again despite how much he was sweating. Beside him, Blue's blond hair shone like silver in the darts of moonlight that made it through the trees. Branches creaked in the wind, and little paws seemed to be skittering all around them.

“What do you smell now?” Logan asked Keiko.

She wrinkled her nose. “It's really strange out here.” She tilted her head, turning slowly as she inhaled. “The forest is busy tonight.”

“You mean with people?” Zoe asked. “Can you tell the difference between people, werewolves, and regular wolves?”

Even in the dark, Keiko's glare was icy. “Of course I can. Werewolves smell like both, no matter what form they're in. But there's more than one werecreature out here.”

Goose bumps raced across Logan's skin.

“More than one?” Zoe whispered.

Blue touched the button that lit up his watch. “It's almost midnight. If they haven't changed already, that's when it happens whether they want to or not.”

“Most of the ones out here have changed already,” Keiko said, closing her eyes and reaching her arms out to either side. In the moonlit shadows, she looked like a horror-movie scarecrow.

“How many do you smell?” Logan asked.

Keiko shook her head. “I think there are . . . eight.”

Zoe inhaled sharply. “Eight unregistered werecreatures? That could be a pack—a whole pack of werewolves in Xanadu! Hunting sheep and sneaking into our Menagerie!”

“They're not all werewolves,” Keiko went on. She glanced up at the trees. “As far as I can smell, perhaps only one werewolf, and then a whole variety of other things. Like, there's a weresquirrel about ten minutes that way.”

A weresquirrel? How does that even happen?
“We're looking for something a bit bigger than that,” Logan said.

“Although maybe if we catch one of the werecreatures, he or she can lead us to the others,” Zoe suggested.

“One is still in human form, not far from here,” Keiko said, sniffing the air. “So he'll be slower and easier to catch, if we hurry.”

“Let's go,” Logan said, jumping off the boulder.

They followed Keiko, diving off the trail into the snapping arms of the trees, fallen leaves crunching under their shoes, wind tugging at their clothes. Logan ducked under a branch and tried not to think about who—or what—they might find out here in the dark.

“Here!” Keiko held up her hand and stopped suddenly. Logan tripped over a tree root and sprawled into a pile of leaves. The ground was still wet from the previous night's rainstorm, and his knees slid through mud. Damp leaves stuck to his hands as he climbed to his feet, trying to brush them off.

He had never been out in the woods at night like this. Late-night activities in Chicago usually involved a lot more streetlights and taxicabs.
And Dad.
Dad had taken Logan to a couple of jazz club shows that went until midnight, but that was nothing like this. This was millions of stars. This was eerie whispering trees. This was
oh, we might get eaten by a werewolf at any moment.

A twig cracked not far away, and they all whirled toward the sound. Logan peered into the dark. Was that—someone moving?

At the same moment, Keiko flung up her arm and pointed. A shape broke from the shadows and bolted into the forest.

“He's seen us,” Blue said, but Logan and Zoe were already running after the mystery figure.

And what do we do now?
Logan had a moment to think.
Catch the werewolf right before he turns into a wolf? No flaws in that plan
. . .

A bramble bush clawed painfully at his arm as he ran by. And then, up ahead, the fleeing stranger ran smack into a tree branch and keeled over like a cartoon character.

“OWWW,” moaned a vaguely familiar-sounding voice.

Logan slowed down and scrambled his flashlight out of his jacket pocket. Flicking it on, he approached cautiously. He could sense Zoe at his elbow, and he was pretty sure Blue and Keiko were close behind.

“Who are you?” Logan called.

“Oh,
no
,” the person groaned. The flashlight beam played across the back of a red sweater as he sat up and glanced at the sky. “No, no, no. Please go away. Don't come near me right now. Please, I'm really serious.”

“Why?” said Logan. “What do you turn into?”

The stranger froze, then whipped around abruptly to stare into the light.

Logan and Zoe both gasped, and Logan dropped the flashlight.

“
Marco?
” Zoe said as Logan scrambled for the flashlight through the leaves.

Marco Jimenez
, Logan thought.
From our class at school.
He suddenly remembered seeing Marco and his family in the reserve on Saturday, climbing into their minivan, while Logan and Zoe were out trying to lure a griffin.

The class clown is a werewolf?

“Who is that?” said the boy in the red sweater, shielding his eyes. “Do I know you?”

“Only since kindergarten,” Zoe said, stepping forward as Logan shone his light up again. “Marco, what are you doing out here?”

Marco looked at the sky again and shrank back, waving his hands. “You have to get out of here. I can't explain, but—”

“You'll become something dangerous?” Zoe guessed. “How did this happen to you? Who else is out here? Anyone who really likes to eat geese?”

Marco blinked at her like she was crazy.

“Uh, Zoe,” said Logan. “Maybe now isn't the best—”

“Aaaagh,” Marco yelped, clutching his stomach.

“Too late,” Blue said from behind them. “He's changing.”

Logan and Zoe both took a step back, but neither one ran. Logan imagined that Zoe felt the same way he did—he wanted to know the truth, and he wanted to see what happened.

But as Marco doubled over with a yell, and his skin began to writhe as if snakes were going to explode out of him, and his head changed shape and his whole body shrank, Logan felt his legs shaking. He wasn't sure he could run now even if he wanted to.

And then, suddenly, Marco seemed to vanish right in front of them. All that was left was his red sweater, which lay in a strange heap on the ground on top of Marco's jeans and sneakers.

The sweater moved.

“Too small to be a wolf,” Zoe whispered, relief flooding her voice.

“Maybe a raccoon,” Logan guessed. “Or a badger? Are there werebadgers? Okay, actually, I have no idea how big a badger is.”

“Nothing quite so impressive,” Keiko said, strolling past them. She walked over to the pile of clothes and lifted up the sweater with a flourish.

A pair of beady black eyes blinked in the light. Black and white feathers floated around knobbly clawed feet.

“
AWK
,” said Marco.

“Oh, didn't I mention that part?” Keiko said. “Marco Jimenez is a wererooster.”