Monster (2 page)

He glanced up with annoyance but didn’t explain. The blue-skinned guy went into the freezer. He wasn’t being sneaky. Just walked up to the yeti and smacked it on the back of its head with the bat. It wasn’t a hard blow, but it seemed to do the job. The yeti’s eyes fluttered and it fell over, unconscious.

The guy kissed his bat, took out his marker, and started drawing on the freezer floor. He drew a circle around the unconscious creature, and, after consulting with his pocket guidebook again, began drawing strange letters around its edges.

“What are you doing now?” she asked. “You wouldn’t understand it.”

“Try me.”

“Unless you’ve got a certified degree in runic studies with a minor in cryptobiology from the Greater New Jersey Community Collegius Arcanus, just leave me alone and let me take care of this.”

He moved around the circle, drawing strange symbols. It took three minutes, and when he finished, he stepped back as the yeti disappeared in a flash. When the spots cleared from Judy’s eyes, the yeti was gone. There was a small, fluffy rock in its place. The weird writing drifted off the floor and faded like smoke.

“What did you do to it?” she asked.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head.” He scooped the stone up and stuck it in his pocket. “Just transmogrified it for easy transport.”

“So that’s it?”

“That’s it. Now if you could just accompany me to my van and sign some paperwork, I’ll be on my way.”

They started back. “That was easy,” she said. “I thought it’d be a lot harder than that.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

They were halfway down the stationery aisle when a tremendous clatter and crash echoed through the store.

“Is there anyone else in the store?” he asked. “Just Dave.”

Something roared.

“Another one?” she asked.

He pulled a small square of paper from his pocket. It had a lot of those weird not-quite-letters written on it. The paper folded itself into an origami hummingbird.

“Chester, recon,” commanded the blue guy. “I’m on it,” said the bird, and it soared over the aisles on paper wings before quickly returning. “We’ve got a yeti in the canned goods aisle.”

The bang of a shelf of Chef Boyardee brand beef ravioli being tossed to the floor made Judy wince. It depressed her to realize that she’d been working at the Food Plus Mart long enough to identify the brand and product solely by the sound. Spaghetti-Os had a tinnier echo, and green beans were more muffled.

“Shit—I just stocked that aisle.”

The blue guy and Judy investigated canned goods. The yeti’s cheeks bulged as it stuffed pasta, cans and all, into its maw. It was a hell of a mess. This creature was bigger than the last.

“This shouldn’t be a problem,” said the guy. “I can handle this.”

Something growled behind them. Judy whirled and came face-to-face with yet another yeti. This one bared its teeth at her and snarled. Its bloodshot eyes bore into her, freezing her in place. It knocked her aside with a glancing blow and seized the blue guy. He struggled, but the yeti lifted him to its jaws and swallowed his head. The guy flailed and twitched as the creature ambled away, sucking on him like a lollipop.

She didn’t hear the man scream. Either he was dead already or his shrieks of pain were being muffled by a throat full of his own blood. The yeti stopped at the far end of the aisle and spit the man out. It hunched over him, growling and clawing. Scraps of cloth flew in the air, but the creature’s body blocked Judy’s view of the carnage.

“Oh, shit. Oh, shit.” Judy froze, repeating the chant over and over.

A curious grunt came from the canned goods aisle. The second yeti’s claws clicked on the tile as it drew closer. It snorted and sniffed.

She bolted for the front doors. They were only a dozen or so steps away, and the lumbering yetis didn’t seem very fast. A can of peas rolled underfoot, causing her to fall. She struck her head on the discarded baseball bat and it rolled noisily across the floor.

The second yeti roared as it advanced on her. “Oh, shit, oh, shit!”

She’d always known Food Plus Mart was a dead-end job. She just hadn’t expected to reach the end so soon.

The paper bird, now folded into a large vulture shape, fluttered in the creature’s face. “Run, miss! I can’t distract it for—”

The yeti grabbed the bird and threw it to the floor. The beast stomped on the paper several times.

Judy snatched up the baseball bat and clutched it in two tight fists. The Animal Control guy had used it to knock out the other yeti. She figured she’d only get one shot so she had to make it count.

The yeti pounced.

She brought the bat up hard and smashed it across the jaw. There was an explosion of force. The yeti was blown back down the aisle. It flew fifty feet, landing with a thud beside the third yeti, the one mauling the Animal Control agent. The struck yeti stayed down, but the last one turned away from its victim and howled.

The strange writing on the bat glowed brighter. The weapon quivered in her grip. It was only a bat and the yeti was a hulking brute, but she felt invincible with it.

“Come on,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “Nobody messes with my canned goods aisle, you son of a—”

The abominable snowman charged forward. Its feral roar dissolved her sense of power. Yelping, she pitched the bat at it. The weapon sailed through the air and struck the yeti right between the eyes.

The bat exploded in a crack of thunder. Splinters of wood flew like shrapnel, slicing her face and arms. A sizable chunk collided above her right eye, knocking her to the floor. Everything went hazy as she struggled to stay conscious for a few seconds.

“Miss? Miss?” Her vision cleared enough to make out the four-foot paper man standing over her. “Are you okay, miss?”

She sat up, and the sudden rush almost made her throw up.

“Don’t try to stand.

That’s a nasty bruise on your head.” The yeti was dead. Its head was gone, blown to oblivion. There wasn’t even any blood or brains left. Just a smoking crater. She glanced down at the chunk of scorched wood that had dented her skull.

The blue guy was beside her. “Are you okay, lady?”

“She might need medical treatment,” said Chester.

She struggled to speak.

“She’ll be okay,” the guy said. “Chester, get the healing elixir from the van. The one in the yellow bottle. That’ll fix her up.”

“Sure thing, boss.” The paper man folded himself into his hummingbird shape and flew away.

“But… but…” Judy covered her eyes as she assembled the thought piece by piece. “But that yeti mauled you.”

He helped her up, keeping her steady. Her vision cleared. The guy’s clothes were ripped, but there wasn’t a mark on him. Not so much as a scratch.

“Why aren’t you dead?”

“I’m blue.”

Judy leaned on the guy to keep from falling over. “Huh?”

“I’m invulnerable to violent harm when I’m blue.”

Maybe it was her spinning head or the way that he said it so matter-of-factly, but it made sense to her.

A vaguely Dave-ish blur appeared at the end of the aisle.

“What the hell happened?”

“It’s okay, Dave,” she said. “We took care of it. Me and this guy the city sent. Uh, what’s your name?”

“Monster,” said the blue guy.

“Of course it is. Well, Monster, I really have to sit down before I puke, which I really don’t think you want to happen. Unless you’re also immune to dry-cleaning bills while you’re blue.”

They went over to checkout and found a stool for her. She leaned against the counter and closed her eyes.

“Shit,” said Monster. “You killed one.”

She opened one eye. “It was going to eat me.”

“A dead yeti is hardly worth hauling in for alchemical harvesting,” he said. “Thanks a lot.”

“Sorry,” said Judy, but she really didn’t mean it.

The paper man returned and handed Judy a plastic bottle. “Drink this, miss. It’ll help you feel better.”

She took the squeeze bottle and squirted some in her mouth. “Ugh. This tastes like crap.”

“That’s the manticore bladder,” said Monster. “But without it, a healing elixir isn’t much more effective than a sports drink. So deal with it.”

Judy grumbled, but her head did feel better. She slurped another mouthful.

Dave’s exhaustion dulled him, and so when he shook his head and muttered to himself, Judy knew he was pissed. His store was a mess, and there was no way they’d get everything fixed before the next shift.

Monster said, “Soooo, what do we got here? Two healthy yetis…” He glared pointedly at Judy. “And one dead one.”

She half scowled, half smiled. “It was going to eat me.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Screw the overtime,” she said. “Dave, I’m going home.”

He mumbled his approval. Or disapproval. Or indifference. Regardless of the exact sentiment, she was out of there.

Chester said, “Miss, we’ll need you to sign some forms.”

“Whatever. Just make it quick.”

“I left the forms in the van, Chester,” said Monster.

Rather than wait for Chester to go retrieve the paperwork, Judy followed him into the parking lot. While he rummaged around in the back of the van, she lit a cigarette.

“So how did that guy do that?” she asked. “Make that yeti into a stone and have the baseball bat explode?”

“I’d like to explain it to you, but I really don’t understand the magic of this lower universe myself. Even if I could, you’d just forget it.”

“I nearly got killed tonight. That kind of makes an impression on a girl.”

“Oh, you’ll sort of remember it, but you’ll soon find the details a bit… fuzzy.”

“Wait a minute. You’re calling me a muggle, aren’t you?” Chester jumped out of the van with a clipboard. “That’s not an officially recognized term.”

She snatched the papers. “I’m not a dumbass muggle.”

“Whatever you say, miss. Though only muggles use the word
muggle.
” His paper head had no mouth to smile with, but she sensed his condescending grin. She was tempted to flick her cigarette at him.

“There. All signed. Can I go now?”

“Certainly, miss. Have a pleasant night.”

She tossed him the clipboard and headed toward her car. “And tell your boss he’s lucky I don’t sue his ass for giving me an exploding baseball bat.”

Judy didn’t see how she could ever forget this, and her contrary nature made her even more determined not to.

By the time she’d gotten home, she’d forgotten that vow.

Since dead things couldn’t be transmogrified, Monster had to lug the yeti corpse back to his van. He slapped a few gravity-defying Post-it note runes onto the carcass to make it easier. Still, he found it annoying, especially since there wasn’t quite enough room for a full-grown yeti in his van. He’d known that but decided to give it a try. Now the carcass’s wide shoulders were caught on the shelves and cabinets that filled the interior, and its lower half hung out.

“Come on, Chester,” he grunted. “Are you pulling?”

Chester spoke from somewhere on the other side of the corpse. “I’m not exactly the strongest paper gnome in the business. Maybe we should just call Hardy. He’s got a pickup.”

“Screw that. I’m not giving him a cut of my commission.” Monster planted his hands on the yeti’s ass cheeks and pushed. It slid in a little farther. A shelf tipped. Its contents spilled. Most of the forms fell in the interior, and a few plastic bottles with elixirs and potions bounced around.

“Stupid girl.”

“Perhaps it’s not my place to say,” called Chester, “but she is a civilian. Under the circumstances, she behaved admirably.”

“Shut up, Chester.”

“Yes, boss.”

Monster took a minute to catch his breath. It was too bad he wasn’t superstrong green today. Would’ve made things a lot easier.

“So should I radio for Hardy yet?” asked Chester. “Or should I wait until the specimen is good and wedged?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you.”

“To be technical, I was being facetious, not sarcastic.” Monster wasn’t really sure what
facetious
meant. The gnome had a bigger vocabulary than he did, and it bugged him. Not enough for Monster to actually try to improve his word power, but just enough to irritate. Kind of like a pebble in his shoe that moved around so that he felt it only once every dozen steps or so. Annoying, but not quite enough to induce him to unlace his sneakers and fish it out.

“Call Hardy,” he said.

“You got it.”

Monster sat on the wedge of fender not blocked by yeti hips. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette. Then he remembered he didn’t smoke anymore, and even if he did, his shirt pocket had been ripped to shreds by his earlier mauling.

Chester appeared. The paper gnome held up a one-inch doll that chimed steadily. “You missed a call.”

Monster took the doll, set it on the fender, and searched his pocket again for cigarettes that he knew weren’t there. “Got any smokes?”