Chapter 16

chapter sixteen We spot Thrull in the back, sitting with Bardle. They're playing some sort of monster game with big bugs—like neon-orange cockroaches. I pull up a seat. "Ahh, don't think I ever learned that one..." "Can we retrieve you and your friends something to swallow then?" Thrull asks., "You mean something to eat?" "Yes. 'EAT.' That is the word. Would you like? I am having ...oe.ě..," Thrull says as he waves something in my direction; it looks like a string of eyeballs on a wooden skewer.

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Ah, you got like mozzarella sticks? Thrull gives me a puzzled look. "Y'know what," I say. "I actually ate before I left the house." Thrull shrugs and slurps down an eyeball. I see his throat bulge as it seems to become momentarily lodged in his gullet. Thrull coughs, swallows, and sucks it down. Monsters, man—not sure I'll ever get used to 'em. "We need to talk to you guys," I say, trying to get back to the point of the thing. "We've seen some strange stuff recently—we figure you'd know more than we would about it." Thrull and Bardle exchange glances. Concerned glances, I think—though it's tough to tell with these monster faces. I'm still learning how to read all the

different expressions. The only expression I definitely recognize is hungry. Quint scoots his chair forward. It makes an obnoxious screeching noise. Excitedly, Quint says, "Yesterday, my friends found a pile of zombies in the street, with their brains sucked out. Totally gone!" Bardle leans forward. He suddenly seems not to care about the game. "You say—with their brains removed?" Dirk nods. "It was gnarly." Bardle's strange eyes blink rapidly. One finger begins to softly tap on the table. I wonder... is he nervous? "And zombies have been disappearing!" Quint says. And then, suddenly seeming very aware that he's being watched, Bardle leans back. Is he attempting to look relaxed? "I have no idea what this could be," he says. I want to state the obvious, but I'm kinda nervous. Thankfully, June isn't so shy. She says, "It seems, well, odd that at roughly the same time you

show up, this would happen. We drove past Joe's a month ago; it was empty. But now..." She doesn't say it accusingly or anything, but she doesn't exactly say it in the friendliest tone, either. "That you should hear this shrieking after we arrive?" Bardle asks. "A simple coincidence, I'm sure." I have to catch my breath. My heart begins slamming in my chest and I suddenly feel very anxious. What did Bardle just say? At last, I speak up. "Um... Mr. Bardle? None of us mentioned The Shrieking...." Bardle's eyes narrow. "No," he says slowly. "No, of course you didn't. I misheard." Behind me, I hear Dirk crack his knuckles. Thrull's moved on from his eyeball entrée and he's now pulling the flesh off some sort of birdlike creature. He sucks it down. The smell of the charred meat is overpowering. Bardle slowly leans back in his chair. There's a creaking sound—not sure if it's the chair or his bones. "Just a simple misunderstanding," he says.

The tension is so thick you could cut it open and cook it for dinner. Thrull throws back a huge gulp of his drink and slams the empty glass down on the table. He grabs his cane—my hockey stick—and struggles to his feet. "I have heard enough!" he barks. "If some foul creature is dining on zombies, then I will meet this creature in battle! It puts me at risk. It puts Jack and his friends at risk. It puts all of us at risk. We are in this together, Bardle, are we not?" "Of course," Bardle says. "Then I will find this enemy," Thrull says matter-of-factly. "And I will destroy it." Thrull takes a step, but his leg quickly gives out. He tumbles forward, tries to brace himself on a table, but the table flips and Thrull wallops into the floor. Every monster in Joe's Pizza turns. Bardle watches Thrull. I study his face, trying to get a read on this strange, old monster. Just as Thrull attempts to stand—and fails—I believe I see Bardle's lip twist into a slight, subtle smile.