I placed my hands on the table to steady myself. "Dad, listen, it doesn't matter now, but I need to find out what you've seen."
He shook his head. "I'm…I'm not ready."
It was my turn to be the bossy one for once. "Well, you damn well better get ready then, because some serious shit is going down."
"Don't cuss," Mom snapped automatically.
Dad quit pacing, returned to the table, and slowly sank into the chair. He seemed to shrink. That scared me. "I've had this dream for decades. In it, one of my sons has to die to save the world from something terrible…" He sounded tired as he revealed his burden.
This whole thing was so damn shocking that I actually laughed out loud. "Dad, it's okay! The stuff you taught me paid off. I've already saved the world. It's okay. We beat the terrible thing last summer, and I'm still alive."
"No," he stated solemnly, like a man who knew his torment wasn't yet over.
"Mr. Pitt, really, it's okay," Julie said soothingly. It was weird to hear her call my father "Mister," but it wasn't like she knew him at all, and she still didn't know how to pronounce his first name properly anyway. Too many vowels. "Owen's telling you the truth. I was there. He did what he was supposed to, and we all lived."
"No." Dad shook his head. He looked like he was going to cry. I had never seen that before. It was making me very uncomfortable. "What I've seen hasn't happened yet. What you've seen so far is nothing. There are still a few signs left."
"What are you talking about?" I had done my job. I had stopped the Cursed One. What else did they want from me? "Signs?"
My father began to speak, but there was a commotion out in the hall, and a sudden banging on the door. The door flew open, revealing Trip Jones. He was really excited, and his appearance indicated that he had run here. He must have just gotten back from exterminating trolls. "Sorry to interrupt, but you guys need to come with me right now. Z, Julie, you've got to see this. It's really important."
"Damn it…" I muttered. Mom scowled. "Sorry." I stood and pointed at my father. "We'll talk later."
Dad pushed away from the table. "Owen, son…" And then he surprised me. He grabbed me awkwardly by the shoulders, pulled me close, and gave me a hug. He had never actually done that before. I was 25 years old, and had never actually been hugged by my father that I could remember. I was too shocked to respond. Finally I patted him on the back.
"Ahh…how nice," Mom said.
After a brief moment, he let go. "Give me time to think, then we'll talk. I didn't know if this time would ever really come. I'll tell you everything."
Trip jerked his thumb down the hall. "We've got to get to Milo's workshop."
Chapter 10
Apparently Trip really did believe it was important, because he full on sprinted across the entire compound to Milo's workshop. Trip had played college football and could run unbelievably fast. I, on the other hand, am a sluggish brute, and preferred only to run when something was chasing me. But apparently this was a big deal, so I hauled butt, yelling hoarsely for various Newbies and Hunters to get out of my way. Unfortunately, Milo's workshop was set out by itself, most likely isolated to protect everyone else in case one of his inventions went horribly wrong and turned our gear man and his shop into vaporized atoms.
By the time Julie and I got there, Trip was already inside, and I was panting. Julie looked fine. "You should do more cardio," she said patiently as she opened the door for me.
"Punching bag's cardio," I gasped.
"Only when you do it for more than a minute."
"If I have to punch something for more than a minute"-panting-"it's time to go to guns."
"Wait." She grabbed me by the arm. "This business with your dad…"
"I don't know, but I intend to find out. Come on."
The inside of Milo's shop was a mess of machinery of every type: welders, lathes, mills, drill presses, and things that I didn't even recognize. Miscellaneous guns were piled in every corner and on every shelf. There was even a rocket launcher of some type dangling from a strap hung over the antlers of the crocodile head mounted on the wall.
We stepped past the biggest harpoon gun that I had ever seen. It was the size of a riding lawn mower, all stainless steel with a spool of cable thick enough for high-power lines, loaded with a spear as big around as a fence post, and painted on the side was a picture of a creature with a shark's head ending in squid tentacles with a big slash through it, Ghostbusters' style. So that's where Milo's discretionary budget had gone lately. If I wasn't in such a hurry, I would have stopped and admired the monstrosity.
Milo saw me looking at his invention. "Yeah, it is pretty freaking cool. I'm done messing around with stupid luskas. Next time we have to hunt shark-krakens, we do it in style. This sucker could harpoon Godzilla! The guys in Miami are going to love this baby. I call it Leviathan." He had been waiting for us, pacing, his long red beard bouncing with each step. He had undone the beard braids and the entire thing was in a giant puffy mass that extended halfway down his chest. "Well, anyways, you aren't going to believe this, but I think I've found a way to track down the Condition." He gestured for us to follow as he headed for the back of the workshop.
There was a roll-up door, and an MHI Crown Vic was parked in one of the few open spaces. Holly was standing near the rear, casually holding her.308 Vepr carbine pointed at the trunk. She smiled when she saw us. "Z, you're all sweaty. Did we interrupt you two at something?"
I was too out of breath to respond, so I flipped her the bird. She winked. Trip appeared with a ring of keys and moved to the trunk. "Ready?" he asked Holly.
"Born ready," she said as she planted the big AK against her shoulder and took aim. "Open it."
"Slow down," Milo urged. The short man paused to push his glasses back up his nose before getting down to business "You guys have no sense of presentation. Young Hunters are so excitable. You can't just spring it on them. You've got to work up to it. It's all about the presentation."
Julie groaned. Milo's ideas were often good, sometimes bad, usually weird, but always with the best intentions. He was constantly thinking outside the box. Way outside the box. "I swear if there's Powerpoint involved, someone's getting shot."
I was a little impatient, considering that my father had been about to tell me something that was probably really important concerning my destiny and all that jazz. "Come on, Milo. Spill it. How are we going to find the Condition?"
Milo smiled broadly. "You sent the three of us out to shake down the elves to see if we could find out anything-"
"Useless as usual," Holly interjected. "Though the Elf Queen asked how the Dreamer was doing. I think she's got a crush on you, Z. She's kinda cute for a four-hundred-pounder."
"But then we get the call to head over to Bessamer for a troll infestation. You guys had to bail, so we took care of it on our own," Milo said proudly. "How much do you know about trolls?"
"I've killed…" Julie paused, thinking, "five of them on two separate cases. They're rubbery, super resilient, heal fast, are very vulnerable to fire, eat anything, but prefer children, and they're smarter than they look. It's always best to engage them from a distance, then when they're down, burn them."
"Yes, yes," Milo steepled his fingers, looking briefly like he was teaching elementary school, obviously leading up to the payoff. "All true, but more important…what do they do for fun?"
"Hang out under bridges and harass goats?" I asked.
Julie hesitated, flustered. "Well…I…I don't actually know."
"Aha!" Milo shouted, grabbing a bunch of printouts off a nearby table. He shoved the papers into her hands. Julie glanced at them, frowning, then started to pass them off to me.