Pocket Apocalypse
Page 77

“I have a plan,” insisted Raina. “We’re going to find Gabby and make her come home. That’s the plan. We’re going to fix her.”
Shelby cast me a sidelong look. I shook my head. I was staying out of this one for as long as possible. Having two younger sisters of my own has left me well-equipped to know when to shut my mouth.
Sighing, Shelby turned back to Raina. “And when we all come crashing through the brush and scare the life out of her, how’s that going to help her? We need to have a real plan. I need to know where you’re taking us.”
Raina frowned. “You have been away too long,” she said. “Dad said you’d gone native on us, but I thought if I dragged you out here, you’d catch on and snap back to being normal. Gabby needs you, Shelly. She needs you to be on top of your game and looking at things like a Tanner, not like some pretty Covenant trophy wife.”
Shelby slapped her.
The noise echoed through the eucalyptus trees. Somewhere above and to the right, a bird screeched, and then everything was silent. Raina stared at her sister, slowly raising a hand to touch her reddening cheek.
“You hit me,” she said.
“You don’t call me a trophy wife,” said Shelby. “You know better than that. Our mother raised you better than that. Now where are we going?”
“You hit me in front of him.” Raina dropped her hand. “I don’t know you anymore.”
Shelby audibly groaned. “Don’t. Just don’t. This isn’t a soap opera, no matter how much it may look like one, and we don’t have time to piss around out here. Gabby’s in trouble. She needs us. And I need to know where you’re taking me. Alex is already hurt.”
“Alex is also the only one here with silver bullets,” I said. This earned me a glare from both sisters. I paused, reviewed the statement, and amended, “I’m not intending to harm Gabby in any way unless she presents a clear and immediate threat to one of our lives. In that case, yes, I will shoot; being your sister doesn’t mean she gets a free pass to murder either one of you. But we don’t know if she’s alone. Cooper may have told her there was a cure, and said he would provide it if she’d just go along with whatever it was he told her to do. If he’s here, then yes, I’m going to do my best to at least incapacitate him. We need to know how many werewolves we’re dealing with.”
“If you shoot my sister, I’ll scalp you,” said Raina, with the utmost civility. She looked back to Shelby and said, “She’s gone to the old playhouse.”
Shelby’s eyes widened. “Oh, lord. Right, Alex, come on: we’re running again.” Then she took off, and Raina took off with her, leaving me to try to catch up with them—and leaving any questions I might have about the nature of the “old playhouse” blithely unanswered. The Tanner sisters knew the score. I was just the man who got to trust that they weren’t going to get us all killed.
The trees grew larger and closer together as we ran, and other things began to appear alongside the eucalyptus. Twisting-trunked trees with glossy brown bark and broad green leaves; smaller, scrubby trees that looked almost like a form of evergreen. Still we ran, until the trees opened up around us and we were standing on the verge of a large, green-surfaced pond that stretched away into the distance, canopied by more trees I didn’t recognize. There was a small dock near where we were standing, but there was no boat there; no, the boat was anchored some twenty yards from shore, at the base of a particularly large and impressive barrel-shaped tree. In the tree was a fort-like construction which looked like it was made mostly of plywood. I stared.
“Oh,” I said finally.
“She’s taken the boat,” said Shelby. “How are we supposed to get to her if she’s taken the boat? I’m not swimming in that water; it has things in it.”
“Things?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
“Eels,” said Shelby. “Turtles. Sometimes really big snakes, although not as many as you’d think, on account of the bunyip around here eating them.”
“You built a playhouse in bunyip territory?” I couldn’t stop myself from squeaking slightly. Both Raina and Shelby turned to blink at me.
Finally, Raina said, “Where else would you suggest we build a playhouse? New Zealand? Everywhere is bunyip territory, except for maybe the middle of Sydney, and that’s because even the bunyip don’t want to deal with the fucking funnelweb spiders. Those nasty bastards will kill you as soon as look at you.”
“. . . right,” I said. “I’m sorry, for five seconds, I forgot we were in an unholy murder paradise. What do you suggest we do if we don’t have a boat and the water is full of ‘things’?”
“We ask the things.” Shelby cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Hey! Basil! Hey! I know you’re out there! Gabby’s gone and snitched the boat again! Come on, you lazy bastard, haul your ass out of the substrate and come help us out!”
Her call echoed over the swamp. I frowned at her, then at the playhouse. Nothing moved. If Gabby was there, she had to hear her sister shouting, but it wasn’t drawing a visible reaction from her. I didn’t know whether or not I should be regarding that as a good thing. Under the circumstances, I was no longer sure how I should be regarding much of anything.
“He’s not going to come out,” said Raina. “He hasn’t been answering us lately.”
“Did you keep bringing him Tim Tams and Doctor Who Magazine?” asked Shelby.
“No,” said Raina. She pushed her lower lip out in a pout. “Dad cut my allowance when I refused to go on survey for those blasted manticores that you were supposed to be helping us get rid of. Like I should go and get myself stung to death because you couldn’t be bothered to come back and do your job? I had to make cuts in the budget.”
“So you cut Basil’s Tim Tams? Oh, real smart, Raina, real smart.” Shelby turned back to the swamp, taking a deep breath. She cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “I brought Raina and I will let you hit her with an eel if you’ll come out and help us get the boat!”
“I want my Tim Tams,” said a sullen voice from what looked like an undifferentiated patch of swamp. Then, with no further fanfare, the swamp . . . stood up. What I had taken for floating water weeds became hair; an upturned branch became an impressively pointed nose, and the rest became a tall, stocky, aggressively male humanoid wearing nothing but whatever had happened to adhere to his olive green skin while he was submerged. He scowled at the three of us and Jett, scratching one muddy buttock with his left hand. “Who’s the fellow? And the dog?”