“You’re Mrs Sladan’s kid, aren’t you?” said the girl. “The one who found the missing people? I mean, not that they were really missing. They were being treated at the Nu Co. lab, right? Volunteer guinea pigs or something.”
That had been the story on the news, at least.
The vampire slowly rotated her marshmallow. “You know, I’ve always found the ‘official’ explanation pretty far-fetched, myself,” she said.
Say what now? The tips of Lucy’s ears tingled. “Sorry,” she said, “who are you?”
“Gertie Lee. Environmental activist and editor-in-chief of the SPEAMS Sentinel.” She held out a hand for Lucy to shake.
“You write for the school paper?” Lucy hardly ever read it since it never reported on UFO sightings.
Gertie nodded. “Have you ever thought about writing for the Sentinel?” Her marshmallow caught fire and she lifted it off the coals. “I’ll bet you have quite a few stories to tell.” She calmly blew out the flames.
Holy slug spit. Did this girl have extrasensory perception? Once again, Lucy lamented, I’m being offered a chance to expose the Truth, and I can’t accept. Not until I know more about the Pretenders, at least.
“I’m not much of a writer,” she forced herself to say. She stood up, ready to leave before she told the girl everything she knew.
Gertie caught her by the sleeve. “Something weird happened at the factory, didn’t it? And I’m not talking about gremlins or zombies or whatever you’re into these days.”
“How do you—”
“You have a reputation,” said Gertie with a look of pity.
If the people at this school knew what was up, my reputation would be TRUTH CRUSADER, but okay. “What are you getting at?”
“They say weird things are happening at Nu Co.” Gertie peeled off the charred outside layer of her marshmallow. “Half the students’ parents work there, and they’re all coming home late, acting tired and short-tempered. Your dad’s a manager there, right?”
“Yeah.” Lucy’s dad had seemed grumpy lately… Why?
“Word on the mycelium network is –” Gertie looked around furtively – “Mr Fisher plans to profit by turning this whole town inside out. He’s going to destroy the land, exploit the resources, then split when the sap’s dried up.” She popped the blackened marshmallow skin into her mouth.
“Really?” Lucy had been so concerned about the Pretenders she hadn’t considered what Nu Co. was doing to Sticky Pines itself. A gust of wind blew smoke into Lucy’s face, sending her coughing.
“Word is –” Gertie lowered her voice even further – “Fisher’s working on something freaky over there.”
“Like what?”
Gertie sniffed. “I’d have thought if anybody had inside knowledge, it’d be you.” She held the marshmallow’s naked interior over the flames. “We could use a curious mind like yours at the Sentinel, Sladan. If you could stick to earthly matters, I think you’d make a great reporter. Nothing about mermaids or Sasquatches, though. The Sentinel is a serious paper.”
Lucy shrugged. “Well. If you don’t want me to write about anything interesting, what’s the point?” She headed for the house.
“Suit yourself,” Gertie called after her.
Back in the living room, Tex was surrounded by a group of kids cheering wildly. He was facing off against Joey in an epic fighting game showdown. Sweat beaded on his fuzzy upper lip as his pigtailed schoolgirl avatar did a running kick that sent Joey’s mech-suited warrior flying helplessly into the void. The crowd roared as the schoolgirl struck a victory pose. Tex took a bow, then spotted Lucy.
Handing his controller to the nearest eager hand, he pushed his way through the throng to join her in the kitchen.
“Fish wouldn’t talk to me,” she told him, “but I did score a job offer.” She tore into a strip of taffy.
“I figured,” Tex sighed. “He left the party a minute ago.”
“He left? Because of me?” Talk about an overreaction. “His house is pretty far from here. Maybe we should go after him.”
Tex patted Lucy’s arm. “Leave the boy alone, Lucille. This is Sticky Pines. He will be perfectly safe.”
“Right…” said Lucy. I suppose that plague of monsters has been alleviated. She glanced nervously at the front door. What could possibly go wrong?
Making a Splash
Milo marched briskly away from Joey’s Halloween party. He wasn’t ready to talk to Lucy, not yet, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell her all about his terrible day. She clearly couldn’t stop herself from prying into his affairs. She’s like a yacht salesman. She never lets up. In truth, it was one of her best qualities – but it was infuriating.
The setting sun cast long shadows through the trees. The neighbourhood was filled with the sound of laughing children and the scent of burning leaves. A woman dressed as a rag doll chased a brood of costumed kids swinging candy-filled buckets shaped like jack-o’-lanterns. One was a superhero, another a princess. Another wore a hairy, wolfish mask.
Milo felt a chill, remembering the beasts he and Lucy had encountered the previous month. He pulled his cashmere overcoat close. Maybe I should call for a ride home…
His stepmother had dropped him off less than an hour ago. Hopefully she was still free to come pick him up. If she hasn’t gone to a book club, or a wine tasting, or a Mercedes-only drag race.
Milo pulled out his latest smartphone, which was protected by a shatter and waterproof case. No reception, yet again. This town’s infrastructure is seriously subpar. The only mobile Milo had seen get reliable reception in the Big Crater Valley was his father’s military-grade device. Seems I’ll be walking home. Oh joy.
The road curved, turning into a bridge over the rapidly flowing Ungula river. To get home, Milo calculated, he would need to follow the river north, then travel halfway round the enormous lake for at least a couple of hours.
