Monster Mash by Gail Z Martin & Larry N Martin

Author:Gail Z Martin & Larry N Martin [Martin, Gail Z & Martin, Larry N]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Falstaff Books
Published: 2020-03-08T22:00:00+00:00

5

When my dad used to call my friends and me a bunch of ‘yahoos,’ I don’t think this is what he had in mind.”

I looked down at the big, black-furred creature who had been making off with a farmer’s pig after he’d gorged himself on cabbages. The affronted oinker had bolted as soon as our tranq darts sent the big guy to la-la land. I was afraid those cabbages would come back to haunt us, and a gassy cryptid was not my idea of fun.

“It’s a ‘yayho,’” Father Leo corrected, as we bent to manacle the creature’s wrists and ankles for the trip to the preserve. “Not pronounced like the search engine.”

“Good to know for the next time.” Which I hoped there wouldn’t be.

“He’s another cryptid who shouldn’t be here.”

“And he’s got shaved patches like the Albatwitch,” I pointed out. “So either our mad doctor intended to release him back into the wild, or he has really shitty security on his lab.”

I’d made sure to check the yayho over as soon as it was safe, and I felt pretty sure that Dr. Murphy wasn’t going to be happy.

“Maybe he got what he needed and didn’t want to keep feeding the creatures. Pigs are expensive.”

“Kinda ballsy to just shove them out the back door or drop them off by the side of the road, don’t you think? I mean, it’s friggin’ Bigfoot, for crying out loud!”

“Actually, cryptozoologists beg to differ, despite the similarities,” Father Leo replied. “The yayho’s faces are more squashed-looking, the limbs are more proportional, and they’re overall stockier than their cousins in the Pacific Northwest.”

I wondered whether the yayho would bond with the sheepsquatch at the preserve, or get into an epic battle. And after hearing the creature blare out a noise that explained his name, I was glad I wouldn’t be in hearing distance when he and Sheepy duked it out.

“Help me get him in my truck, and Louie and I will drive him out to the preserve,” Father Leo said. “Since Elvira is still in the shop.”

I couldn’t help wincing, especially when I remembered the estimate to fix the damage. Fortunately, Father Leo said the Occulatum would pay for the repairs, for which I was grateful. This gig doesn’t pay well—hell, most of the time, the small stipend barely covers expenses—but now and then the perks are worth it.

Louie Marino, an old friend who is also a Linesville cop, came over from where he’d been keeping a lookout to help us hoist the drugged creature into the back of Father Leo’s truck. It took all three of us, and we barely got him up to the height of the truck bed. Louie and I strapped him down with load ties and threw a tarp over him. At night, no one would notice that the black lump under the canvas was breathing.

“So what are you going to name him?” Louie challenged.

I’d been so busy trying not to get crushed or killed; I hadn’t given it any thought. “Hugh,” I said finally.

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