Chapter 21

chapter twenty-one We've been rescued! I think for a half-second But, no, being rescued shouldn't be this painful. We're being hauled off like sacks of potatoes. I can't see anything, and all I can hear are stomping feet. Something sharp stabs at my gut, over and over, until— OOF! Whoever's abducted us has—not so gently— dropped us to the ground. My eyes blink open. A fine web of flesh and tendon is draped across the ceiling, beaming fluorescent green. Looming over us, almost glowing in the light, three figures come into focus. Three of the most mind-bogglingly bizarre creatures I've ever seen... Goons. A... platoon of 'em. "Please tell me you're good guys..." I say.

MAN WE'RE NOT "Cool," Dirk deadpans. A stomach gurgling noise—like flat soda sloshing around a warm bottle—comes from the creature that looks like a sleepy Care Bear. But there's another sound coming from a few feet away. Something familiar. Something monstrous—but not evil.

It's funny, you hear so many weird, unexpected sounds during the Monster Apocalypse, they sorta start to blend together. But this sound stands out because— No. It can't be. It's a soft, questioning growl that builds to a yipping, yapping, eager bark. My heart races as I stand. The monster with the cannon head shoves out a meaty arm to stop me—but I duck underneath. My eyes start to blur a bit. Something big moves behind the Goon Platoon. Then a high-pitched, happy yip and suddenly the monster trio is knocked aside as—

Mooch. Rover, I want to believe it with every last stupid fiber of my stupid being, but... If this apocalypse has taught me anything, it's that nothing and no one can be trusted. I've seen too many weird visions, had monsters in my head showing me things that aren't real. And I want this to be real so, so bad that I'm afraid that it's a trick. It doesn't seem possible otherwise, it—

Rover licks my face. It's the same messy, slobbery lick he gave me when we first met—what feels like forever ago—on the streets of Wakefield. I jam my fingers into his fur, now thick, overgrown, and matted with ooze and dirt. Rover keeps lapping at my face until I flop onto my back and he collapses on top of me—his head resting on my belly. I look up at my friends. "Guys...? It's real, right?" Quint smiles. "It's real, friend." But... if it's real, why aren't my friends rushing over to join in the hugging and reuniting? Oh right. The Goon Platoon. They still loom over us. Rover hops up and looks toward the Goon Platoon with wide eyes, swishing his tail back and forth, like he's trying to tell these guys that I'm A-OK. That we're all A-OK—and definitely not the sort of creatures that should or would make a good meal. But Rover's swishing tail hits June, knocking her to the side, and her backpack opens as she tumbles back. We watch, frozen, as the Fortress Breaker slips out, sliding across the floor toward the Goon Platoon...

Dirk inhales sharply. I can practically hear June's fingers digging into the hard ground. The Goon Platoon moves toward the Fortress Breaker. The beetle-looking creature with sword appendages gives it a gentle push with its leg. And then a poke at the seam. Sparkly flecks of glitter sprinkle out. "Don't!" June shouts, holding out a hand. "That's our..."