Chapter 3

Chapter Three This is monumentally unexpected. This woman atop the monster is the first other human we've seen. Until we heard that radio broadcast, we didn't even know other humans still existed!

June grabs my sleeve and twists it tight. Her eyes are high-beam wide. You think she knows about the human settlement in New York? Maybe she has her own settlement and with real houses and other kids that aren't three dorky boys. Let's initiate communication. "Hold up, hold up!" I say. "This human's intentions may not be great. She is, y'know, riding a giant fanged beast!" June shakes her head. "You ride Rover! He's a giant fanged beast!" "Maybe technically he's a beast—but really he's just a big fluffy monster-dog!" I say. "This monster here looks like something out of a demon's nightmare! Plus, it ate Quint's sled!"

Quint is jittery beside me. I can almost hear the wheels in his brain spinning away with curiosity and excitement—clink, clink, clink. And like that, he goes to make contact... Hello there. What a wonderful chance encounter. It is fantastic to meet another human From the tunnel, we watch the human eye Quint. Then the monster tilts its head. Then—

HARRRUGH! The monster raises its fist, and I can see what's coming—Pancake Quint. "Crud!" I scream as I race out to grab my friend. "I miscalculated!" Quint cries out. "That human is a villainess!" "No kidding!" I yell, pulling him across the snow. "And that monster's a meathook!" Meathook's fist comes slamming down, snow erupting, throwing us back into the car wash. The monster's fist opens and it reaches into the tunnel. It swipes and thrashes. Luckily, the arm is not long enough to reach us. And he's not pleased about it. But then— Footsteps outside. Human footsteps. Suddenly— POP! SIZZLE! An electrical hum. Harsh fluorescent overhead lights flash on. "THE CAR WASH! IT'S ALIVE!" screams Dirk. The automatic car wash conveyor suddenly jolts us forward...

So, I've been through a drive-through car wash many times. Always in a car, naturally. And I thought it would be just so goofy and fun to go through one on foot. Not true. The nozzles are as strong as fire hoses! Snow, dirt, and gunk fly off us. This is the most painful shower of all time. At least we are showering For real. Just Fyi-You guys smell often a lot. Don't look at me. I bathe in the pond.

A roar echoes down the length of the car wash tunnel. I see the monster appear at the exit. It is now waiting for us, where the conveyor ends. Our conveyor belt of cleanliness is now a conveyor belt of doom, carrying us on a deadly path to a fang- filled mouth. "Run back! The other way!" I shout. But the whole thing is moving too fast—it's like trying to walk down an up escalator. Our only choice is to embrace the conveyor! Massive brushes whack us! Then we're dried off —hit with high-pressure air and smacked with huge strips of towel. We race down the belt. Every step is like Flash- style hyperspeed. We burst through a big wall of flapping thingies and then the conveyor belt hurls us out of the tunnel. My feet slide across black ice. I spin past Meathook, managing to stay upright. In an instant, I've lost track of my buddies. I reach out, feeling for something I can use as cover. My hand finds metal. Hmmm.... smells like