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Epilogue.
GROK THIS.
Chapter 91.
ABOUT FIVE HUNDRED miles away, I finally stopped for lunch. The place kind of reminded me of the Holliswood Diner, although the waitstaff wasn't nearly so cute.
I politely declined the waiter's suggestion-a farm-raised catfish special-and ordered a bacon cheeseburger and a milkshake. Then I set about studying The List computer.
Number 3 was a real strange sucker from what I could tell from the few low-quality images I had on file. You know that crazy science fact about how your body's 70 percent water? Well, his apparently is 70 percent fire. fire.
Suddenly I detected a possible alien presence coming up behind me, and I got ready to spring into action. My first fourteen years on Earth may have contained some harrowing moments, but, until recently, they'd been pretty well spread out. I hadn't met The Prayer till I was three, and I hadn't met another top-ten baddie till just this past year... but these days it seemed I was barely getting time for a nap between serious encounters.
It was really starting to fray my nerves.
I got ready to leap out in the aisle to deliver a roundhouse kick at whoever was approaching.
"Don't even think about it, Daniel," said a familiar voice. It was Dad.
"I didn't summon you," I said, regaining my breath. "How'd you just show up like that?!"
"I think part of your brain must have known you needed some parental advice," he said, sliding into the booth opposite me. "At any rate, let me do my fatherly duty and point out that there's no way you should even think even think about going after Number 3." about going after Number 3."
"Yeah, well I'd go after The Prayer himself if I thought I could find him."
"Listen, son-you were lucky with Number 6. And you were beyond beyond lucky with Number 5 just now. Believe me when I tell you that you won't catch any breaks next time. The law of averages doesn't allow for exceptions that big." lucky with Number 5 just now. Believe me when I tell you that you won't catch any breaks next time. The law of averages doesn't allow for exceptions that big."
"Whatever you say."
"I mean it. He'll roast you up like a kebab."
And then a very bad thing happened. That grainy image of Number 3 on The List computer suddenly became crystal clear, as in 3-D high-def clear. In fact, he looked so real I moved my hands away from the keyboard out of some instinctive fear that he might reach out and burn my fingers.
But he didn't reach out of the screen; instead, he spoke with a British-accented voice that reminded me of Anthony Hopkins from Silence of the Lambs: Silence of the Lambs: "Listen to your daddy, sonny boy. Why don't you settle down with one of your imaginary friends and go to some nice American college with A&M or A&T in the name?" "Listen to your daddy, sonny boy. Why don't you settle down with one of your imaginary friends and go to some nice American college with A&M or A&T in the name?"
"Now just hold on a second," I said, thinking quickly to myself. This was my my computer. And if he was trying to scare me off already, that probably meant he was worried about me. Otherwise, why should he bother? computer. And if he was trying to scare me off already, that probably meant he was worried about me. Otherwise, why should he bother?
I mean, sure, it was scary that he had been able to find me, to bypa.s.s The List's formidable security programs, to overhear a conversation with my father, and to deliver his threat just like that... but I'd been through equally surprising circ.u.mstances just a couple times before, hadn't I?
"Tell me," I said, looking at his flickering face and acting as game as I could. "An interesting statistic I came across while reading about you: did you know that you have single-handedly contributed more to global warming than the entire industrial complex of Brazil?"
His flames visibly brightened in apparent self-satisfaction.
"Yes," I went on. "Only, I'd always a.s.sumed that was a result of your flame throwing, your hundreds of acts of arson, etcetera."
I had his attention and paused for maximum effect.
"You see, what I couldn't have known, until I'd actually had a chance to speak with you, was that really it's the tremendous quant.i.ties of hot air you release when speaking that explains it."
His glow became white hot, and I could see he was about to try something, so I quickly switched off the computer.
"You're really playing with fire now, Daniel."
"Nice one, Dad," I said, wondering what it was with him and his compulsion to make bad puns in all kinds of circ.u.mstances. "So, any chance we'll be able to do a signal trace on him?"
"I'm way ahead of you," he said, looking down at some weird cell-phone-type device with long, wiggling antennas. "And your mom will probably have my hide for telling you this... but I suppose you'd figure it out on your own anyhow.... Um," he said, slumping his shoulders, although I could tell he was secretly proud of me: "It looks like the signal was originating from London, England."
"Good," I said. "I'll go book a flight. I can probably be there by tomorrow."
"Or," said Dad, "if you chose to really study the topographic data and teleport yourself, you could-in theory-be there in a few seconds."
"Nah, I better not push my luck, right? And anyhow," I continued as the waiter arrived and gestured for me to move my laptop out of the way, "I should probably eat some dinner first."
"Good thinking," he said, eyeing my French fries.
I summoned the rest of the family and my friends, and waved for the waiter. We clearly were going to need some more food.
"Who are we going after next?" asked w.i.l.l.y, sliding into the booth opposite me.
"I better not be hearing any single-digit List numbers from you this evening," said Dana.
"How are the burgers here?" asked Joe, already scanning the laminated menu.
"Aren't we supposed to take the rest of the summer off like normal kids?" asked Pork Chop. "Maybe we can go to camp!"
"Can we stop by the SPCA to thank that nice gray-haired lady again for adopting Lucky?" asked Emma.
"Next time I'm going to have to cut your hair myself," said Mom, shaking her head sadly.
I must say, probably the best thing about being an Alien Hunter... is never having to be alone.
Stay tuned. Beware of demons and druids Beware of demons and druids. And everyone else And everyone else. - Daniel - Daniel
Watch the skies for Daniel X's next incredible adventure...Demons & DruidsTurn the page for a sneak preview!
One.
I BET I CAN SEE London from here, I thought. I thought.
I was, oh, maybe 150 feet in the air, above a gra.s.sy field outside a small village called Whaddon. I'd only been in England a couple of weeks, and I still had a little of that excitement that hits you when you go to a new place.
Before I had time to take a good look around from this height, though, I started to fall.
Fast.
The first of the evening stars became a blur, and the ground seemed to rush up at me faster and faster.
I could hear shouting voices, but it was impossible to tell what they were saying over the blistering wind surrounding me.
Maybe I should have been worried, but I'll admit it-I was enjoying myself. That is, until w.i.l.l.y kicked me hard in the face.
w.i.l.l.y, Joe, Dana, Emma, and I were playing soccer. Our own version, where I am the ball. where I am the ball. That is correct; I had transformed myself into the soccer ball itself. That is correct; I had transformed myself into the soccer ball itself.
Luckily, soccer b.a.l.l.s don't have a lot of nerve endings, I thought as I flew forward into the air. I thought as I flew forward into the air.
"And w.i.l.l.y controls the centered ball beautifully, shooting a pa.s.s to Joe. He takes it up the line. But-no! Dana sweeps in with a well-executed slide tackle and steals it!" Joe always liked to deliver the play-by-play, although talking about himself in the third person usually distracted him from, well, playing. playing.
"Pay attention, Joe," said w.i.l.l.y, grimacing. "We're getting creamed by girls. girls."
Even Dana, in the middle of pa.s.sing me to the other end of the field, cracked up at this.
Then she kicked me pretty hard, and once again I briefly enjoyed the feeling of flying through the evening sky-until I saw Emma's face face rus.h.i.+ng toward me. She caught me easily on her forehead and juggled me there for a moment as she turned to the "goalposts"-two trees at the end of the field. rus.h.i.+ng toward me. She caught me easily on her forehead and juggled me there for a moment as she turned to the "goalposts"-two trees at the end of the field.
Then Emma bent her body back and headed me straight up in the air. Way up. I relaxed, enjoying the sensation of free fall; it's not something I get to do that often.
Below me, Dana and w.i.l.l.y were racing toward the goalposts.
Dana got there first, and as I came down she jumped into the air, fell backward, spun, and sent a scorching scissor kick through the goal.
"GOOOOOAAAAAAL!" screamed Joe from the other end of the field in his best international announcer voice. screamed Joe from the other end of the field in his best international announcer voice.
I'd known Dana's team would win (her team always did), but her powerful kick took me by surprise. I had already overshot the goalposts by at least a hundred feet. Suddenly I realized I was headed straight for the tree-lined gorge that bordered the field.
I concentrated for a second, and then I was back to being myself again, no longer a soccer ball. I grabbed an overhanging tree branch as I flew past. Dangling one-handed over the gorge, I frowned at Dana, who was trotting over, and gave a dramatic sigh.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" I called to her. "Tried to kick me into the briar patch."
She laughed. "Daniel, you look like a depressed orangutan. Get down from that branch."
Before I could come up with a snappy reply, Joe's voice rang across the field. "Okay, you two, now now can we get going? London's not going to can we get going? London's not going to walk to us! walk to us! We have monsters to catch." We have monsters to catch."
Two.
I DROPPED DOWN from the tree and dusted myself off. You think playing soccer is dirty?
Try being the ball.
A few minutes later, the five of us were walking along an English country road. Very picturesque, I must say.
Our pickup soccer match had been a good distraction, but now it was almost eight, and night was starting to fall.
"Well, let's hoof it, guys," I said. "In a couple of hours we can find somewhere safe to camp out."
We hadn't gone far when a light from behind made us turn around.
A large vehicle was approaching. I stuck my thumb out while my friends moved back toward the shadows, ready to disappear if need be.
Fortunately they didn't have to. As it pulled up alongside me, I saw that the vehicle was a beat-up van, and probably large enough to hold ten or eleven. A tiny woman with short gray hair was behind the wheel, wearing a tweed suit that was three sizes too big for her.
She rolled down her window and peered into the darkness behind me. "Are you lost, dearies?"
Her face looked careworn, but she had smile lines around her mouth. I liked the way she looked, and I liked her s.p.a.cious van even more.
I put on my best harmless-backpacking-tourist face. "I'm afraid we're stranded, ma'am. We're trying to get to London." To catch some aliens-Number 3 to be exact. To catch some aliens-Number 3 to be exact.
"Oh... Americans!" She smiled. "Well, I'm heading that way. Hop in."
Three.
IT DIDN'T TAKE much to convince us. We gratefully piled in, w.i.l.l.y and Emma in back, Dana and me in the middle row, and Joe sprawled out in the pa.s.senger seat.
We drove in silence for about ten minutes. Joe had nodded off, and w.i.l.l.y and Emma were chatting in hushed, lazy voices behind me.
I normally talk with the people who pick me up, but it had been a long day. My eyes were about to close when Dana's lips brushed against my ear. Yeah, that that woke me up. woke me up.
"Have you noticed?" she whispered.
"What?" I whispered back.