Cloak (YA Fantasy) (11 page)

11

Westward Bound

T
hey walked in formation toward a squat, bunker-like building that sat alone on a cracked slab of blacktop. An overgrown runway stretched behind it, surrounded by dense, leafless trees. The rutted road they had arrived on was the only access to the pitiful airstrip, yet every parking space was packed. Will was led past a bizarre assortment of vehicles filling the lot—plumbing vans, moving trucks, old police cruisers, hearses, refrigerated produce vans—there wasn’t one normal car in sight.

“Enchants do like their weird wheels, don’t they?” Rizz was at Will’s shoulder. He kicked the tire of an especially ugly ice cream truck with a faded clown’s head mounted on the roof. “Not me, man. I’ll take a bright red Mustang over these enchant-camouflaged clunkers any day. Who’d want to pay that much for something that looks that bad?”

“You mean they’re supposed to look like this?” Will asked.

“Like a junk yard on parade? Yep. Most of them are brand new, top of the line. Go figure.” Rizz shrugged. “No accounting for taste.”

Kaya led the group past a row of taco trucks and around the building. From a sagging aluminum hanger hung a rusted sign: “Westward Bound Freight Company.” A flock of outdated brown and yellow cargo jets cluttered the runway.

Kaya stopped at an oxidized metal door where an ‘Employees Only’ sign hung crookedly on a nail. She stepped forward and touched a dried piece of gum, activating a buzzer.

“Yes?” a deep voice burbled. The sign swung to the side, revealing two bulging eyes.

“We are packages on the flight to nowhere,” Kaya said.

“Very well.” The eyes blinked. “Passports, please.”

They all held up their passports. With a slurping sound, the eyes squeezed through the slot and stretched forward on two pink stems, moving slowly from one passport to the next. The eyeballs stopped on Will’s card, squinted, moved toward his face, then back to the card. Will held perfectly still. After a moment the eyes moved on to Rizz, then finally withdrew. As they retreated into the slot, one of the eyeballs bumped into the door, rolling backwards and retracting into its stalk.

“Proceed,” stated the voice, and the decrepit door opened with a smooth hydraulic hiss. Inside, a frumpy man in a security uniform greeted them. His pink, slimy face sagged to one side and his left eye was just emerging from the stalk that sprouted from the top of his head. The guard was a gelatinous slug-man.

Never believe what you see,
Will reminded himself as he moved down a wood-lined hallway that smelled of mildew and jet fuel. Crates of sardines and barrels of garbanzo beans were stacked against the walls. The team was forced to weave single file down the corridor until they pushed through a door marked “Storage.”

The room was packed floor to ceiling with wooden crates, with barely enough space to stand. Will was smashed between Dr. Noctua and Rizz, with one of Manning’s antlers poking his ribs. Behind them, Kaya closed the door and bolted it. After a moment, there was a loud crack and the wall of crates pulled apart, revealing a round steel door. “Ticket Holders Only Beyond This Point” was written in black and yellow. Kaya squeezed forward and pulled out a sheaf of papers.

“Here’s your ticket, Will.” Kaya handed him a coupon for a free lunch buffet at the Hoof and Mouth Diner and Bingo Parlor. His name was printed on it.

“Ready?” She flicked her tail and swiped her ticket/coupon across a broken fire alarm. With a beep, the heavy door swung to one side.

Will stepped through the door and froze. Bizarre, hooded enchants filled rows of orange plastic bucket seats. A woman with the ears of a poodle applied make-up. Scaly reptilian teens played tag with their tongues. An elderly, opossum-like woman knitted a tail warmer, and a long-mouthed aardvark-guy in a cardigan sweater licked the last drop out of the bottom of a soda bottle. In a chair near Will, a badger-man in shades and dreadlocks bobbed his head to music pumping through his headphones. A bald businessman striped like a zebra worked on a laptop.

It was incredible. Will took in every detail. Not all the seats were the same size. One-and-a-half rows of small chairs held a family of rabbit-people with long ears and buckteeth. They all wore matching “I Heart New York” t-shirts.

On the opposite side of the waiting room, a line of oversized chairs held only one occupant—a humungous hippopotamus enchant wearing a beautiful African robe. His reinforced seat protested under his weight as he stifled a yawn and shifted to find a more comfortable position.

“Excuse me.” Behind Will, a woman with an ostrich beak and fake eyelashes glared down at him, tapping her foot. Will realized he was blocking the door to the ladies’ restroom.

“Sorry.”

The ostrich-woman harrumphed and loped past. “Well. How rude!” She sniffed and covered her beak.

Kaya took Will’s elbow and guided him toward the ticketing desk. Across the waiting area, enchants began to hold their noses and protest. A group of tourists with spindle-like antlers made sour faces and chirped something unkind in a foreign language as Will walked by. Near the luggage check, a tall woman wearing a black veil snorted, blowing aside the bottom of the veil. Will caught sight of a tusk protruding from her painted lips.

Pulling his hood down over his face, Will ducked between Rizz and Flores.              

“What do you mean, it’s unavailable?” From the direction of the counter an angry voice hissed. Will peeked past Kaya. At the front of the line, a man with waxy yellow skin and flat black eyes scowled at the toad-woman behind the counter. He looked like a scale-covered skeleton in an expensive suit.

“Do you know who I am?” The man pointed a sharp finger in the ticket agent’s face.

“Yes, Councilman De la Vega. But I’m afraid the section you are requesting has already been reserved.”

The scaly man flushed with anger, his pit-like nostrils flaring. “I am a member of the Council of Wik. Unreserve it!”

Silence fell over the waiting room. Even the fidgeting rabbit-children stopped to listen.

The woman trembled as she searched her computer monitor. “I…I’m sorry, but I can’t do that, sir,” she croaked.

“May I ask why not?”

The amphibian read her screen again. “The section was reserved by another Wik Council member, Senior Councilman Xavier Noctua.”

De la Vega whipped around as though expecting an attack as he searched the crowd.

The entire waiting area perked.

“Noctua?” someone whispered.

“Here?”

“Do you see him?”

Ears stood straight up. Noses probed the air. Antennae twitched wildly.

“Hello, Councilman De la Vega. It is nice to see you again.”

The skeletal reptilian flinched at the sound of Dr. Noctua’s voice.

The line between the counter and Dr. Noctua parted as every eye turned to ogle the old owl-man leaning on his cane.

“It
is
him,” whispered a middle-aged turtle enchant, nudging her husband’s shell with her elbow. “I told you.”

Murmurs rippled throughout the terminal. The group of tourists began flashing pictures. Will felt the Special Branch agents press close and position themselves between him and the cameras.

Dr. Noctua lowered his hood, readjusted his glasses, and nodded to the gawking crowd.

The protection team herded Will toward the security checkpoint as the admiring crowd encircled Dr. Noctua. He smiled and tapped every wing, hoof, or claw extended to him.

“I was hoping this wouldn’t happen. He usually avoids being recognized.” Kaya spoke from the side of her mouth. “At least it should draw attention away from Will while we board.”

“That ticket lady said he was a councilman, like The Council of Wik Councilman?” asked Will.

Kaya nodded. “He’s one of seven senior council members.”

“VIP with a capital V,” added Rizz. “De la Vega has been after the Doc’s council seat for years.”

Councilman De la Vega stood glaring at Dr. Noctua. Two black fangs flashed as a sneer twisted his scaly lips.

Will shivered.

“Ticket and passport.” A uniformed baboon enchant held out his hand and snapped with impatience.

Will hurried to obey. The security guard snatched Will’s passport and studied his face. He leaned forward and sniffed. With a cough the baboon enchant stamped the ticket and waved him through to the X-ray scanner.

“I thought Dr. Noctua worked with you guys. Special Branch, I mean.” Will kept his voice low and followed Kaya’s lead. He slipped off his shoes and dropped them on the conveyor belt.

“Well,” whispered Kaya, “yes and no.”

Rizz leaned in. “We’re kind of the Doc’s pet project.”

Kaya shot him a warning glare, and put her bag through the X-ray machine.

“About ten years back, Victor De la Vega convinced the Council of Wik and ISPA to get rid of Special Branch. Xavier Noctua didn’t agree, so he bought it.”

“Bought what?”

“Special Branch—the whole program. The old bird’s loaded.” Rizz rubbed his thumb across his fingers and raised his eyebrows.

“He owns Special Branch?”

“Technically, he funds it. We’re still part of ISPA, but we answer straight to Noctua. Sometimes the Director of ISPA throws us an assignment, but that’s pretty rare. It’s a sweet gig. Especially for a bunch of screw-ups like us.”

Kaya’s growl stopped Rizz short.

“Oh, come on, Kaya. The kid should know.”

“Know what?” asked Will.

“See, he’s curious.” Rizz’s lopsided grin didn’t change the stern warning on Kaya’s face. “Okay. You win.” Rizz pretended to zip his lips.

Kaya let her glare linger as she stepped through the metal detector.

“Ask me again later,” Rizz whispered in Will’s ear.

The flight attendant’s eyes were watering. Will’s gerbil musk was working well. The attendant tried to hold onto her toothy smile as she helped him buckle into his bizarre seating arrangements. She stretched a cargo strap across his waist and fastened it like a seatbelt.

“Thanks,” said Will.

“You’re welcome.” The woman spoke in short bursts, trying not to inhale. After strapping him in, she hurried away, gasping for air.

Will shifted in his seat, which was really a box of imported capers with armrests made from casks of balsamic vinegar. It had Havana Cigar headrests and cushions fashioned from bundles of cashmere wool. There were no seats on the plane, just a jumble of freight, cargo nets, and boxes of merchandise from around the world. The only difference between the VIP section and coach was the quality of the cargo. Behind Will, the coach passengers strapped onto more ordinary freight like parcels of textbooks.

The protection team had spread to the far corners of the VIP section to help them keep an eye on Will. Dr. Noctua sat by himself in the front of the cabin, on a seat constructed from cases of French mustard, with his beak tucked into his chest, snoring softly. Rizz was next to Will with his feet resting on a stack of caviar crates.

Outside the window, an engine belched to life, spewing a cloud of black smoke. Will dug his fingers into the balsamic vinegar armrests. He’d never been in an airplane before, much less a shaky freight plane. His stomach twisted in knots.

“You like games?” Rizz prodded Will with his elbow.

Will shrugged.

“It will take your mind off flying.” Rizz dropped his feet to the floor. “It’s the only way I survive these flights.”

“What kind of game?”

“I call it Name That Critter. All you have to do is identify the kind of animal in each enchant entering the plane.” Rizz turned around and rearranged a stack of saffron jars so he and Will would have a clear view of the passengers behind them. “I’ll go first. Zebra.” Rizz pointed to the black-and-white striped businessman. “Your turn.”

Will peeked through the freight. A portly pinkish woman with an upturned snout had just boarded. “A pig?”

“Well, that’s rude,” said Rizz.

Will flushed. “Oh, sorry.”

“Ha. I’m just kidding. She is part pig. My turn again.” He pointed at a gray man slowing down the other passengers. “Sloth.”