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I don’t recommend hitching, by the way. Do not. There are some pretty sick wack-a-doos out there. If I hadn’t had the means to protect myself and the urgent need to cover my tracks, I would have stayed on the bus.
But you come across some good people on the road too. I actually caught my first lift from a couple of them, two nuns heading for a retreat house in Kerby. They were wearing habits, and I thought they would give me a sermon or something, but all we did was talk about the Mariners baseball team and its slim-to-none chances of making the AL wild card. Even better, they didn’t ask me where I was going, so I didn’t have to lie to them.
“God bless you,” they said as they let me off. How nice was that? Maybe they had a sixth sense that I was about to need some extra blessings.
Chapter 9
IT WAS GETTING DARK an hour later when I came across a card-carrying, charter member of the wack-a-doo species. To put it mildly.
I didn’t mind so much that the pickup truck I stuck out my thumb at didn’t stop. It was the can of Busch beer that sailed out of his passenger window that I found quite u
I decided I needed to teach that idiot truck driver a lesson about highway safety and etiquette.
I stared at the can and willed the spilled beer back into it. Then I sealed the crack and pop-top, and holding it in my hand like a ru
It took me a full ten seconds to catch up. I could have done it in less, but Busch boy was doing a hundred or so, and the roads were windy that day.
I gave the surprised driver a big wink as I drew alongside his pickup’s open window. “What the… how the?” he yelled over the howl of the wind.
“Hey, I think you dropped something,” I said, and I tossed the beer can into his lap. “Don’t drink and drive, you useless dink.”
I was acting pretty smug-until I realized that my ability to sense danger was not nearly as advanced as my super speed and strength.
Because suddenly it wasn’t a beer-guzzling fool who was driving the truck-it was a plug-ugly alien with a series of wide eyes that went all the way around his head, at least a couple of noses, and dueling mouths equipped with nothing but sharp fangs, dozens of them.
Chapter 10
“SO WHO’S CHASING WHOM?” he asked with one of the mouths. “And which of my mouths gets to take a huge bite out of you first?” he asked with the other.
Speed is the key, I thought-and still keeping up with the truck, I stuck finger after finger into at least a dozen of the creep’s eyes. Then I held on to both of his ears and yelled, “Who sent you after me? I want to know right now!”
The cretin actually started laughing. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, punk,” he said with one mouth. “I’m not after you, I’m still to come,” he said with the other.
“Say again,” I told him.
“Number 6 sent me, and you better go back the way you came. You better run the other way! You get it? You turn around, you boogie, or you die a horrible death in the near future.”
Then the voice changed before I knew what was happening. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Please let me go,” he wailed. “Please, please, I’ve learned my lesson!”
And I knew why-because suddenly he was the truck driver again, and I was practically tearing the poor knucklehead’s ears off.
“Drive safe,” I said, and let him go.
So-Number 6 somehow knew I was coming. What other powers did Ergent Seth have that were as impressive as my own?
Chapter 11
BY TEN O’CLOCK, completely wiped and with still no sign of civilization, I decided to call it a night.
I stepped off the road into the dark woods, kicking myself for staying up late to watch The Blair Witch Project a couple nights before. I found a level clearing about thirty yards in that was as good a spot to camp as any.
I opened my minitent and made a little fire. Then I sat beneath the northern stars, propped against a fir tree, cold hot dog in one hand, warm Gatorade in the other. Ahhh, the great outdoors. Could it get much better?
I hoped so, because it was pretty lonely, actually. And scary, considering that I’m often hunted by aliens.
That’s when I heard a bunch of footsteps just outside the firelight. Uh-oh.
“Quit tripping me, doofus.” I heard a girl’s voice.
“That’s not me. It’s Willy,” said a boy. “You know what a klutz he is.”
“No, it’s not. It’s Dana,” said another boy. “I’m not a klutz.”
“You are such a klutz.”
“Hello? Does anyone notice that it’s like pitch-black?” said yet another girl’s voice.
“No, Emma, we didn’t notice that.”
“Hey, guys,” I finally called out to the intruders. “What took you so long?”
My best friends-in the whole universe-had just arrived.
Let the party begin.
Chapter 12
MY BUDDIES WILLY, Joe-Joe, Emma, and Dana had come to keep me company. Just like I do with my parents, I create them. And if you think about it, creating is the best superpower of them all. It’s a whole lot better than being part spider.
“Survival training. I love it,” Willy said, punching fists with me. “The great outdoors! The Pacific Northwest! Wow! You know how to travel, Daniel.”
Stocky and headstrong, with shoulder-length black hair, Willy is around my age-fifteen or so. He’s always ready, willing, and able to try anything, and mix it up with any thing. If anyone enjoys chasing down aliens as much as I do, it’s Willy. The guy is fearless, loyal to a fault, and all heart.
“Chex Mix! Righteous!” Joe said, plopping down and snatching the bag out of my hand. Joe-Joe, on the other hand, is more like all stomach. Which is crazy, because he’s super ski
“Oh, wow!” Emma said, twirling around. “Spruce, cedars, Douglas firs, cypresses. Amazing! I love it here. Great spot, Daniel.”
Emma’s a year younger than Willy, and she’s his sister. She’s also our little group’s Earth Mother. Compassionate to a fault, Emma loves two things: the planet Earth and all of its animals, even the insects.
“Hey, you,” Dana said, smiling at me with a jaunty shake of her head. “Decided to take us camping, huh? Interesting. I mean, heat and indoor plumbing, how overrated are they?”
I smiled back, my mouth suddenly dry.
What can I say about Dana? She’s tall, with pin-straight blond hair that flows like a waterfall of flame down her back. She’s probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen-just my opinion, of course-but the neat part is that hands down, Dana’s the most genuine person I’ve met. No ego, no big head, no agenda.
I have a crush on Dana so bad that it makes me physically shake sometimes. It’s embarrassing! Like when I look into her eyes, which are in the blue family, somewhere between chambray and shaved ice.
I stared at her in the firelight across from me and felt my wet, cold carcass instantly warm up.
“Way to go, Daniel!” Joe said, his cheeks bloated with Chex Mix, wincing as he sat on a hard root. “Sweet spot you picked here, buddy. I mean, I love the cold by itself, but wet, too? And lousy grub.”
“Joe’s actually right for once,” Willy said, whittling a stick into an arrow with my pocketknife. “This place is a dump.”