Max Brallier - The Last Kids on Earth and the Cosmic Beyond

BLARG:

Big, brutal beast.

THRULL:

Man-monster! Undercover traitor monster!

KING WRETCH:

This dude gave me weird dream-visions and then his chest opened so Rezzoch could talk to me and, yeah, it was nuts.

THE LOUISVILLE SLICER:

My radical weapon.

It did damage to allthese bad dudes.

I mean, that bat is basically my lightsaber!

CRUNCH!

The monster stomps grow louder. Up ahead, I see an opening – like the mouth of a cave . . . What the – where are we? I thought we were in the suburbs, but now we’ve stumbled upon some sort of cave situation?

‘Whoa, whoa,’ Dirk says. ‘Could be frost giants. Frost giants live in caves – learned that from Conan the Barbarian .’

June sighs. ‘Dudes, really ? It’s not a cave! It’s the car wash!’

Another CRUNCH!

‘In we go!’ I say, and we race into the car wash tunnel.

Even inside, the cold is crippling. Quint’s teeth are chattering. We really need to upgrade our winter outfits – if we don’t, hypothermia might take us down before a monster –

RAWRRR!

The monster’s howl slices through the car wash, bouncing off the walls. ‘The big guy found us!’ June cries. It’s at the entrance.

The beast’s hot breath warms the air, turning the car wash tunnel into a humid haze.

Through the mist, I see the monster: a giant, one-armed beast with a single fistacular paw. One massive . . .

-MEATHOOK!-

This monster – Meathook – bends down. It peers into the car wash tunnel.

And that’s when I see there’s something on top of the beast. A figure wearing a dark cloak that snaps in the wind.

I gulp.

We carefully inch forward, peeking out around the tunnel’s corner. We watch the figure’s arm raise and clasp the cloak.

A hood is pulled back.

And then –

‘Whoa!’ I exclaim.

‘Oh my,’ Quint says.

June stammers, ‘It’s – it’s – it’s a person. A human!’

This is monumentally unexpected. This woman atop the monster is the first other human we’ve seen. Until we heard that radio broadcast, we didn’t even know other humans still existed !

June grabs my sleeve and twists it tight. Her eyes are high-beam wide.

‘Hold up, hold up!’ I say. ‘This human’s intentions may not be great. She is, y’know, riding a giant fanged beast !

June shakes her head. ‘You ride Rover! He’s a giant fanged beast!’

‘Maybe technically he’s a beast – but really he’s just a big fluffy monster-dog!’ I say. ‘This monster here looks like something out of a demon’s nightmare! Plus, it ate Quint’s sled!’

Quint is jittery beside me. I can almost hear the wheels in his brain spinning away with curiosity and excitement – clink, clink, clink .

And like that, he goes to make contact . . .

From the tunnel, we watch the human eye Quint. Then the monster tilts its head. Then –

HARRRUGH!

The monster raises its fist, and I can see what’s coming – Pancake Quint. ‘Crud!’ I scream as I race out to grab my friend.

‘I miscalculated!’ Quint cries out. ‘That human is a villainess!’

‘No kidding!’ I yell, pulling him across the snow. ‘And that monster’s a meathook!’

Meathook’s fist comes slamming down, snow erupting, throwing us back into the car wash.

The monster’s fist opens and it reaches into the tunnel. It swipes and thrashes. Luckily, the arm is not long enough to reach us.

And he’s not pleased about it.

But then –

Footsteps outside. Human footsteps. Suddenly –

POP! SIZZLE! An electrical hum. Harsh fluorescent overhead lights flash on.

‘THE CAR WASH! IT’S ALIVE!’ screams Dirk.

The automatic car wash conveyor suddenly jolts us forward . . .

So, I’ve been through a drive-through car wash many times. Always in a car, naturally. And I thought it would be just so goofy and fun to go through one on foot. Not true.

The nozzles are as strong as fire hoses! Snow, dirt, and gunk fly off us.

A roar echoes down the length of the car wash tunnel. I see the monster appear at the exit. It is now waiting for us, where the conveyor ends. Our conveyor belt of cleanliness is now a conveyor belt of doom , carrying us on a deadly path to a fang-filled mouth.

‘Run back! The other way!’ I shout.

But the whole thing is moving too fast – it’s like trying to walk down an up escalator. Our only choice is to embrace the conveyor!

Massive brushes whack us! Then we’re dried off – hit with high-pressure air and smacked with huge strips of towel.

We race down the belt. Every step is like Flash-style hyperspeed. We burst through a big wall of flapping thingies and then the conveyor belt hurls us out of the tunnel.

My feet slide across black ice. I spin past Meathook, managing to stay upright. In an instant, I’ve lost track of my buddies.

I reach out, feeling for something I can use as cover. My hand finds metal. Hmmm . . . smells like a Dumpster. I yank open the Dumpster lid and dive inside. It clangs shut behind me.

I hold my breath, because I don’t want the monster or the Villainess to hear me, but also because the Dumpster smells like death.

I grip the Louisville Slicer tight against my chest. I expect a long, dramatic moment to pass – with breathing, and terror, and waiting – but it’s only an instant!

YANK! The Dumpster lid is ripped open, and something awful enters . . .

KRAK!