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Chapter 1: Build a Better Monster Trap
Scene 4: Strikes and Gutters
With the sun down and the moon out, we made our way to the KingPin. J-Bo was barking about our prey of the evening. He disagreed about a few aspects.
"No, the 'were' in WereMummy doesn't denote a wolf affiliation," I argued. "This particular WereMummy just happens to also be a wolf. It doesn't transform into one."
I could hear Jingles' going on some more about monster nomenclature in my head as he stretched across the vinyl seats and rested a paw on the dash board.
"That's not a transformation, though," I said. "It wakes up and wreaks havoc once a month, but it doesn't change shape."
He made a rather sexist joke at that. I ignored him and signaled a left turn. The KingPin was still 20 minutes away and the roads, lined with protective silver, were beginning to glisten in the fresh moonlight. The town council had years ago cleared the funds for several projects intended to mitigate "incidents". Even today, no one likes the word monster.
As we passed the local hardware store, Hotel California finished playing on the radio and Wacky Wally, the D.J. for WERD 102.3, Pointsville's local radio station, came on.
“Hey to all the hoodlums and hooligans tuned in right now! Time for a Pointsville update straight from the Mayor’s office. We are on a code yellow curfew due to the full moon so make sure your doors and windows are locked tight and have lines of salt in front of them. And make sure it’s salt and not sugar. No one wants another Silly Sally incident. Also, the ghouls and zombies have recently started a turf war for the south side of the Cemetery, so steer clear for the next few days. More updates as they occur. And now, the weather.”
I tuned out the next portion of the radio broadcast. The Pointsville weather station was no more accurate than any other city’s. Besides, I needed to make sure Jingle Bones and I were on the same page for the evening’s hunt.
“So you’re clear on your part in this, right?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes and gave a lazy bark of acknowledgment.
“It’s just that you’re my only backup and, well, you don’t have thumbs.”
J-Bo narrowed his eyes.
“Hey, I’m not judging. Goddess knows you’re a highly intelligent and super competent canine,” I said and he smiled a bit. “I just want to make sure we’re set for anything. Now, I’m going in alone and when I come out, I’ll have one pissed off WereMummy on my tail, not to mention any kitty cat underlings in his employ.”
Jingles barked his puzzlement.
“Yeah, it’s weird. I guess undead cats and dogs don’t have issues with each other. Or maybe it’s because of how revered cats were to the Egyptians. I don’t know. What I do know is you’ll have about five seconds to do your part. When I say, cut the rope—”
He snarled.
“Or bite,” I corrected myself. “Just sever the rope to drop the Cat-Nip, OK? Without it to distract them, I’m toast.”
He understood and I patted him on the side as we pulled up to the back of the bowling alley’s empty parking lot, right in front of a soccer field. About five feet from the van, before the field started, was a large oak tree.
“I’m gonna leave the car running so we can haul ass out of here. You ready?”
He nodded, his game face on.
Stepping out of the van, I looked up at the KingPin’s entrance against the skyline. It was a cloudless night, still and silent, with only the moonlight to see by. Normally, the bowling alley’s neon sign and a streetlight would provide illumination but both were dark. Noticing the out streetlight, I made a mental note to acquire more pixie dust for the town council as well as my shop.
I walked around the van and opened the side-door, revealing the upright and open sarcophagus. With the van lights off, it was hardly noticeable. I took the mini-trampoline sitting next to it and placed it on the ground in front of the door before tying the 25 lbs bag of Cat-Nip up to the tree. I stopped for a moment to pack my pipe with Dragon’s Breath and smoke before grabbing the weapons. I needed all of my wits, natural and enhanced. After loading my coat pockets up with the duffel bag’s contents, it was time to go.
“Wish me luck,” I said as I carefully walked towards the bowling ball-shaped front doors, keeping my head on a swivel.
The bear trap hadn’t fit in any of my pockets, so I just carried it. Halfway across the parking lot, I set it on the ground, open, as an insurance policy before continuing on. Everything remained quiet and calm until I opened the door and went inside. The first thing I noticed was how well lit everything was. Not only were all the lights and fixtures running, but floating orbs littered the interior. They looked harmless, but I still avoided them as I surveyed the lobby area. In the middle of the room was a generator that would occasionally suck one up.
‘At least I don’t have to rely on my flashlight,’ I thought.
There were no creatures to be seen, but they could be heard; loud bangs and hooting and cheering pervaded the stale air accompanied by the same radio station I’d been listening to on my way in. Van Halen was playing, now. I couldn’t tell what song.
Moving forward, I peered beyond the concession stand and saw the noise source. A half dozen man-sized cats, some house breeds and some jungle species but all zombified, were bowling while another half dozen were in the arcade huddled around Street Fighter. A few were dancing to the music along an empty lane, incorporating slips and slides into their moves. I nearly didn’t notice the upright Siberian Tiger manning the concession stand I was so close to. She was playing bartender, pouring the other cats drinks and bagging popcorn. It was clear to me at that point what was happening; the WereMummy wasn’t trashing Ray’s establishment, but occupying it.
‘On the plus side, Ray should be able to salvage most of his equipment,’ I thought.
“WHO’S READY FOR GALACTIC BOWLING?!?!?!?!?” came a booming voice laced with snarls from the intercom. The WereMummy was nearby.
Cheers erupted all around as I whipped my head left and right, looking for the announcer booth. I finally saw it and cursed. It was clear across the main floor, past the bowlers and the dancers, right next to the restrooms. I considered my options. A Molotov Cocktail would cause too much damage, but the Screeching Beetles would work perfectly. Pulling the little cage from my pocket, I opened it’s door and lobbed it towards the middle lanes. At once, six stone beetles skittered out and amongst the giant cats. The sound of them was abnormally loud and shrill even against the booming radio.
A few tried to pounce and swat the bugs but only got pinched for their efforts. Those not running from the beetles were being run into by other cats. I took this opportunity to lob one of my Himalayan Itching Powder Bombs. When it landed, a cloud of pink dust covered most of the lanes and the sound of yowling filled the bowling alley. It was then that my target for the evening showed itself.
“RWAARRRGGGHHH!” came a guttural yell from the direction of the announcer booth. I looked up and saw the door swung open and the WereMummy standing in the door frame, glaring maliciously at me. “YOU!” it shouted.
“Yup,” I answered, rummaging in my pockets for a Blessed Flashbang. “Sorry to bust up your party, but no pets allowed.” My hand on a flashbang, I started backing towards the door I’d come in through.
“I WILL MAKE YOU MY PET!” it shouted and lunged at me, covering 15 feet in one jump. Instantly, I dropped the flashbang and dove backwards out the door, shielding my eyes.
If I hadn’t managed such a quick exit, it would have surely gotten me. As it was, I was several yards ahead of it now, running through the parking lot towards the van. I was just outside of range to talk to J-Bo but trusted he would be ready. Then I heard the yowling again, but closer.
‘I’ll be damned,’ I thought. ‘Time to make the best of my head start.’
That the WereMummy would be so close on my tail was always a given, but I hadn't counted on the zombie cats to be so persistent. I zagged left in the direction of the bear trap and hopped over it in the hopes I would be followed. Five seconds later, I glanced back and was rewarded for my efforts with the sound of it shutting around a rather large calico cat’s tail. My victory was short lived however, for when I turned back I found the WereMummy now in front of me. The effects of the flashbang had faded and its eyes were red with fury. Skidding to a halt just inches from him, I sprinted left. His claws managed a single thin slice in my trench coat as I ran. Now was the time for Molotovs.
I pulled it out of my pocket and in one motion out and threw the flaming projectile towards the hideous beast. It slowed it down just enough for me to get my bearings and dash towards the van again. More cats were closing in. Then, I could finally hear J-Bo. He was ready and waiting. I thanked the gods and screamed.
"J-Bo, quick! Loose the Catnip!"
I could hear the patter of fifty paws pounding the pavement behind me as I smelled the godawful combination of decay and wet fur.
"Now!" I shouted, twenty feet from the open van doors now. I could see the spot where the hidden trampoline was marked and angled for it as I first heard a frantic gnawing and then the KRISSS of the twenty five pounds of Catnip falling in a cascade right in front of me.
Running through the kitty cannabis and praying it worked on all breeds, I chanced a look behind. 'Yes!' I thought as I saw the various zombified felines stop dead in their tracks at the nip, some bowling over themselves. 'Shit!' I added mentally upon a second glance back. The Weremummy was still following as planned, but way too closely. It was close enough for me to feel its wrappings flap against my neck, its outstretched hand attempting to grab at me. 'Go go go,' my mind continued as I made a mad dash for the hidden trampoline. With a final burst, I jumped up and to the left at the last second before the open side door of the van, landed with all my weight on the trampoline, and bounded ungracefully over and across the van roof. The Weremummy was running with too much momentum to stop when he saw what my body had been blocking from view during our chase, an open sarcophagus.
"AAAARRRRRGGGUUUGGGAA!!!!" it shrieked as it crashed straight into its intended receptacle, knocking the sarcophagus over and causing its very heavy door to slam down shut.
I didn't land much better, completely missing the grass and instead landing on the sidewalk, but I managed to get back to my feet on the other side of the van. From then on, I would have a slight limp. Getting into the drivers side, I buckled up and lit a cigarette. J-Bo barked cheerfully.
"For you maybe," I responded, "I wouldn't exactly say perfect. My leg is wrecked."
He barked.
"Yeah, well you have four. I only have two," I responded as I began to drive away, leaving the zombie cats behind. Without their master, they would dissolve to dust by sunup, so I didn't feel too bad.
Checking the rear view mirror to see that the coast was still clear of undead cats, I caught a view of the three of us; the sarcophagus glittering with jewels and golden hieroglyphs, all five and a half feet of Jingles stretched out on the seat next to me in his pristine black and white coat, and myself with three days of stubble beneath tired eyes, my trench coat stained with dirt and blood. I'd looked better.
J-Bo barked at me. I scoffed. He barked again. He wanted the bones inside the sarcophagus after the exorcism.
"It would depreciate the value and subsequent price," I argued, brushing a strand of sandy brown hair out of my eyes. Jingles barked again, countering that no one in this town would buy a corpse; too superstitious.
"True enough," I reluctantly agreed, "but to be fair, the bones could actually be haunted." We finally settled on him only taking one bone as I pulled up to the back of the shop. Looking at the dash as I turned off the engine, I saw that it was just after two in the morning. "Come on. Let's go in and crash. Unless," I added cheekily, "You'd like to help me carry your ancestor here inside."
Jingles gave a half-hearted series of barks as he exited the van and walked inside, similar in cadence to someone sarcastically saying 'Ha Ha Ha'. I locked the van up and limped in behind him, up the stairs, and to my sweet soft bed.