“If you know so much about it, why don’t you take the lead in this investigation?” he asked with just enough of a smirk to let her know he was only needling her.
Abby bumped him with her hip as she walked by. “Maybe I will. You could always wait in the car. So, is it true you can make your weapons change into other shapes?”
Cole stopped and faced her while keeping the forked end of his weapon in the weeds. They were too far away from I-94 for the sounds of cars to reach their ears, but it wasn’t exactly quiet. Insects buzzed in the trees surrounding the access road that cut south through the woods, their flight paths swerving due to the same wind that rustled dozens of overhead branches. The rattle of Cole’s spear was like one spastic set of drumsticks in an otherwise respectable percussion section.
“Haven’t you read my file?” he asked.
Abby fixed her eyes on him and gently prodded his chest with a finger as she said, “You haven’t filed any reports, no matter how many times we’ve asked for them.”
“So you want to know more about me?”
“Maybe,” she said softly. “You guys are mysterious. Anyone in MEG would like to know more.”
“Rugged and mysterious? You’re making me sound pretty cool.”
“Skinners are mysterious. Cole Warnecki is anything but. He’s a video game geek who tries to be a smooth talker, without a lot of success.”
Cole scowled and asked, “My smooth talk isn’t working?”
“I suppose it is a little bit. You’re also not a bad kisser.”
When he put his free hand on the worn denim covering Abby’s hip, Cole had no trouble reeling her in. She not only allowed herself to be pulled closer, but helped him out by flicking her head back to get some hair out of her face. All of his training had taught him to watch his opponent’s eyes. Hers were very promising. When he moved in for the kill, something landed heavily on the end of the spear that was still in the tall weeds. If the weapon had been made of normal, untreated wood, it would have snapped as a little wild-eyed Chupacabra scrambled toward Cole’s shoulder.
The creature stood just over three feet tall upon legs that looked like burnt tree limbs covered in old sap. Its feet and hands resembled something from a preschooler’s sketch pad. Long, bony toes and only slightly longer fingers stuck out at strange angles, which made them perfectly suited for wrapping around the spear and holding it in a tight grip. Its head was thin, narrow, and chiseled down to a point that wasn’t so much of a beak as it was a solid wedge. The lower portion of that wedge hung down to display several teeth that could very well have been old roofing nails.
Cole took all of this in because it was the only thing he could do during the first few seconds of the attack. It was too late to duck, and impossible to take a swing at the gangly little bugger that perched upon the spear while raking its fingers across his chin and neck. As soon as the creature spotted the first trickle of blood, it let out a hacking croak.
Snarling under his breath, Cole twisted around to shake the creature off. Its stick fingers ripped into his shirt, while its toes maintained a solid hold on the spear. Grabbing its arms was a struggle, simply because they weren’t in the right spot. One arm was positioned at about the right height on its frame and less than an inch away from a droopy right breast. The other was about six inches lower and disturbingly close to a festering little wormhole that must have been its navel. Because of this, the creature looked as if it was standing perpetually sideways. Not quite a match to the other Chupes he’d seen, but close enough.
As it wrestled to pull out of Cole’s grip, the Chupe swung large clumpy strands of hair that could have easily been mistaken for freshly unearthed roots. Each tug brought another grunting breath that was sucked in through slits on either side of its wedge-shaped head and let out through its mouth. Dark yellow eyes rattled nervously within deep sockets, reminding Cole of pennies trapped within dollops of amber.
Not wanting to prolong the stalemate, he let go of its arms and grabbed it by the neck. His attempt to close a fist around the fleshy tube supporting its head caused the thing to yelp and break away from him. It twisted in midair, swung its head around and deflected Cole’s spear with a petulant swat.
Since he’d missed with the first swing, Cole allowed his weapon to keep moving until he could drive the forked end straight at the creature. The smaller spearheads caught the Chupe in the meaty portion of its body a few inches below its neck. As soon as it hit the ground, it rolled into the weeds and was gone.
“Was that a Chupacabra?” Abby cried.
Cole felt as if he’d been twisted into a knot. Once he steadied his feet and raised his spear, he took a moment for his head to stop spinning. “Yeah. That was a Chupacabra. One of the biggest I’ve seen, but that’s a Chupe all right.”
“Oh my God, you’re bleeding!” She rushed over to him with a tissue that she’d fished from one of her pockets and went to dab his forehead.
“Give me some room,” he snapped.
Abby pulled her hand away, but nearly jumped from her hiking boots when the single sharpened end of Cole’s weapon moved in her direction. The grass around her feet was rustling, but it was difficult to say if it was being brushed by the wind or being jostled by a little freak with misaligned arms. Cole’s scars wouldn’t warn him of another attack since they reacted only to Nymar and shapeshifters. A Chupacabra was neither, but it was too big to stay hidden in the grass for long.
“I see it,” he whispered. “Get that spray ready.” He took a small amount of comfort from the ripping crackle of new Velcro as Abby opened a pouch on her belt for a thin can of Mugger-B-Gone.
The top of the Chupe’s head bobbled within the grass around them. It stopped moving half a second before the creature made another charge. All Cole could think about was that Paige hadn’t been kidding. The little bastard could move even faster than the four-legged one he’d chased in Indiana. Its scurrying steps kicked up a cloud of dirt, but he managed to trip it with a low sweep of his spear. The Chupe’s arms were placed so it could catch and right itself before falling onto its ugly face. As soon as it was upright again, it scrambled behind Cole and climbed up the back of his leg.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled while reaching around to try and grab hold of it.
Even though the Chupe was too quick to be snagged by the arms or neck, its hair was long enough for Cole to pull the thing off his back. The instant the Chupe’s body hit the dirt, he brought his spear down to trap it between the sharpened points of the forked end. He wasn’t fast enough to catch the wiry beastie on his first attempt, so he brought his foot down for a second. He caught one of the Chupe’s legs under his heel, but the creature quickly sank its nails and teeth into his shoe through the upper layer of leather and laces.
Cole swung his free leg in and around for a kick to the Chupe’s ribs, but was blocked by a knobby elbow and cut with a raking swipe of jagged claws across his shin. He planted his kicking foot and lifted the other, along with the creature, off the ground. The Chupe let go and rolled away just as he was about to launch it into the trees. It kept rolling in an erratic pattern to dodge a storm of incoming strikes from the spear. Once it got a few yards away, the Chupe dropped to all fours and tore into the surrounding greenery. It seemed even smaller and ganglier as it streaked back between Cole’s legs and grabbed onto the seat of his pants. From there, it climbed up to hold onto his shoulders so it could scratch and bite at his scalp and neck.
“Stay back!” Cole said when he saw Abby come toward him with her spray can held in an outstretched hand.
He gritted his teeth through the pain of the Chupe’s flailing attack, hoping the serum in his blood would be up to healing all those painful little wounds. Grabbing onto his spear down toward the forked end, he shifted it into a bowed shape and then swung it around his back so it partially encircled him and the gnawing little creature. Its thorny handle dug into the Chupe’s flesh with a wet crunch, followed by a grating squeal from the creature once Cole began sawing the weapon back and forth.