End of Days (28 page)

“It was a book first. Great werewolf.”

“He wasn't a werewolf!”

“Not literally,” Mr. Entwistle explained. “Weren't you listening earlier? I'm speaking figuratively. In the archetypical sense, Dr. Jekyll was the good persona, Mr. Hyde was the evil one. Why do you think I picked that name?”

Charlie shrugged. “Body hair?
Hide
—you know. A hairy hide.”

Mr. Entwistle looked at him, then at me.

I had thought Mr. Entwistle picked the name because we couldn't ever find him, and that his secrets were hidden, but I was too embarrassed to say.

The old vampire shook his head. “How did you two nincompoops get out of elementary school?”

“I stopped going to school in grade two,” I said.

“And I think I got promoted so my teachers wouldn't have to see me again,” said Charlie.

I didn't think he was joking, but Mr. Entwistle laughed anyway.

“Right. Well, I think we can leave now. With any luck, we can
find out who rents this unit. Hyde must have used a key. He got in without breaking the door. That's a good sign.”

He started to fold the box closed.

“Don't we want to take that with us?” Charlie said.

“Charlie, that would be stealing! Zack, what kind of company are you keeping?”

All of this from a guy who'd stolen a motorcycle and a Ford Mustang from the police, and an ambulance from the hospital. I checked his face for signs that he was joking. It was like reading a cement wall. He would have been deadly in a game of Texas Hold'em.

“Do you think the Almighty would forgive us if we just borrowed a sprig or two?” the old vampire asked. “You can give some to Luna and Suki.”

Yes, he was definitely joking.

“I'd rather give some to Hyde,” Charlie said.

“Only if we have to. Now how should we carry it? Just one scratch and it's game over.”

“It's that strong?” I asked.

“Yup.”

“The box is full of makeup bags,” Charlie said. “Can't we just put some in one of those?”

“And to think I called you a nincompoop. Grow a few more brain cells, Charlie, and I'll upgrade you to genius.” Mr. Entwistle looked at me and smiled, then reached into the box and pulled out a purse. The outside was covered with grotesque floral patterns. He tipped it upside down and the stash of makeup thingamabobs spilled out. Then he folded the bag over the bouquet of monkshood. He was careful not to touch any. Once it was zipped shut, he handed the bag to Charlie and pushed him toward the door.

“Why do I have to carry this thing?”

“It's part of that boyish charm that got you through school. And it matches your eyes.” The old vampire herded us out the door, then did his best to close it behind us. It was bent and the housing for the dead bolt had torn free from the cinder-block wall. “If only we
had some duct tape,” he muttered. Then he reached into his coat, pulled out a plastic bag, and jammed it under the door so that it was wedged closed. “Plastic bags—a million and one uses. Now, a million and two.”

I smiled. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the handbag.

“Quit fussing,” Mr. Entwistle said. “Look on the bright side. If Hyde tries to kill us on the way home, you can fend him off with your purse.”

“Yeah. Great. If only my friends could see me.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” Mr. Entwistle fished into his pocket and came out with his cell phone. “Cheese!” He snapped a photo, then started out across the lot at a slow jog. “Yeah, I'm definitely tagging you on my Facebook page.”

Charlie was still staring at the handbag. “Where's a good half-orc assassin when you need one?”

“I heard that,” the old vampire said. “Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Good question. Can you find the trail?”

Charlie and I tested the air. All I could smell was garbage and dust and cooling asphalt. I checked the ground for prints, but saw nothing. “Where did he go?”

Mr. Entwistle snorted. “No idea. But we're out of time. The sun will be up in an hour, and I forgot to bring my stolen ambulance with me. We'd better get back. You two ready?”

“Yeah.”

So we headed for home.

Hope is a funny thing. It can be totally unreasonable—bone dumb, in fact—and a part of it still clings to your brain. I remember as a kid hoping to find a light saber in my Christmas stocking. After reading my first
Marvel Tales
comic, I hoped that I might get bitten by a radioactive bug and receive the full range of superpowers you'd expect from such a miracle. You can bet all that hope came to nothing. But other times hope is dead-on. Like when you hope the winter will soon be over and it's already late April. That's the kind of hope you want to have. It's less disappointing.

All the way home, I was thinking of Luna. I was hoping she'd be awake and that I could see her. And I was hoping that my hope wasn't too unreasonable. When we reached the apartments, my first thought was to find her and head up the fire escape. Sadly, fate had other plans. The trouble started with our greeting in the backyard. My uncle was there in his ninja garb, Cobra Commander helmet and all. Mr. Entwistle clearly wasn't expecting to see him.

“I thought you were at the hospital with Baddon?”

“I was. But I thought the greater threat was here, so I came back. I also wanted to know if you'd found Hyde.” Maximilian glanced over at us. If he noticed the purse Charlie was carrying, he said nothing. I was about to make a wisecrack about our failure to find my friend a decent set of matching high heels, but the look on his face told me it was best to shut up. He was looking at Maximilian intently, his pupils wide and his nostrils slowly flaring.

In some ways, vampires are closer to dogs than humans. Humans trust their eyes more than anything else. If I showed you a chunk of hot fudge, you'd think it was hot fudge, even if it smelled like strawberries. A dog wouldn't be fooled. A strawberry is a strawberry because it smells like a strawberry. Charlie was sniffing the air as if he smelled a rat. You can bet that raised my blood pressure. He had good reason to despise my uncle—and if he figured out that Agent X was Maximilian, well then, I was sure episode one of
Charlie Goes Homicidal
was going to happen right there in the yard. I took a deep breath through my nose. The faint odor of hospital cleanser still clung to my uncle's skin and clothes. No surprises there. He'd just delivered Detective Baddon to see his son. I casually walked past my friend and took hold of his elbow, spinning him toward the door. If it sounds like an aggressive move, it wasn't. I was just trying to get him focused on something other than Maximilian.

“Come on, Charlie,” I said. “The sun will be up soon. Let's get inside. Maybe the lovely Suki Abbott is awake.”

Charlie fell in step beside me, but kept his head turned and his eyes on my uncle. Mr. Entwistle was giving him a play-by-play of our evening.

“We'll be inside if you need us,” I said.

The old vampire nodded, then continued his narrative. Charlie and I navigated the front hall, then stopped outside of Ophelia's first-floor apartment.

“Something about that guy isn't right,” Charlie said. “I don't care what Entwistle says about trust. There was no reason for him to shoot me.”

I didn't know the best response for this. Any answer would have prolonged a conversation I didn't want to have, so I said nothing. I wanted to see Luna, and the sooner I checked in with Ophelia to make sure she knew we were safe, the sooner I could go knock on Luna's window.

“You know,” Charlie said, “I've been thinking. If Hyde is a
werewolf, and Mr. Entwistle is right, he needs to turn into someone huge.”

I wondered where Charlie was going with this.

“So. Look at Agent X. He's could be a WWE wrestler.”

I must have looked incredulous. I'd never for a second considered it.

“And he was at the hospital, then left, just before Hyde showed up. And now he's snooping around here and he's supposed to be with Baddon.”

Could this be true - that my uncle was Mr. Hyde? I was dumbstruck. And Charlie didn't know the half of it. Maximilian had been hunting a werewolf earlier this year. He might easily have been bitten. It would explain why he'd never seen Hyde. Why they were never around together.

Why hadn't this occurred to me? I had to warn Mr. Entwistle. But how? He and my uncle were talking outside.

Charlie nudged me in the ribs. “What's going on in that steel trap you call a brain?”

My steel trap was undecided. Was it really possible that my uncle could be trying to help us as a man and kill us as a monster? I tried to remember what I could from the movies. It seemed to me that the man rarely knew about the beast he turned into. Even if he did know, he could never remember what he'd done when he wasn't human.

“Earth to Zack. You okay? You look like you just got tagged on the chin.”

I needed more time to think this through. “Maybe we should mention it to Ophelia.”

Charlie nodded, then we entered the first-floor apartment. Ophelia was pacing the room. She looked pale. I couldn't tell if she was worried or furious.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Did you know anything about this?” Her voice was stern.

“About what?”

I looked at Charlie. His expression changed. It might have been guilt. It might have been nervousness. I couldn't tell. I looked back at Ophelia, but had no idea what to say.

“Charlie?” she said.

“Hey, don't look at me.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“The girls are gone.” I sensed Ophelia was about to start a barrage of questions, but she didn't say any more because Mr. Entwistle and Maximilian were coming through the front door, laughing. Her attention shifted to them.

Mr. Entwistle's nose must have told him something was wrong because the humor disappeared from his face before he looked over. “What is it?”

“The girls have left,” Ophelia said. “I was in the basement. I heard them on the fire escape. By the time I realized they were leaving and got to the door, they were already taking off in their car. I had hoped they'd be back by now.”

Mr. Entwistle looked at me, then at Charlie. His pale blue eyes probed my friend's face. “Tell us what you know.”

Charlie glanced at me. I expected him to look nervous. The old vampire was still staring at him. So was Ophelia. I would have melted under their gaze. But Charlie was used to being in trouble. He was simply irritated.

“Neither of them wants to go home,” he said. “They won't be coming back here.”

I thought for a second Ophelia was going to attack him. “Charlie, you have no idea how thoughtless this is.”

“There wouldn't be a problem if you hadn't called Dr. Abbott.”

I hadn't realized that Ophelia had placed the call. But looking back, it was the only thing that made sense. Luna was with me, and Suki wouldn't have called her father, knowing he'd get angry.

“Every parent has the right to know their children are safe.”

My uncle stepped between them. “Where have they gone?”

As soon as he spoke, Charlie glared at him. I felt myself cringe.

I'd once compared Maximilian's movements to those of a stone golem. Strength and purpose were in everything he did. He was still carrying his gun, the one that looked as if it had been stolen from a Klingon war chief. I wondered if Charlie was right. If my uncle was Hyde. He swung the gun up so that it was resting on his shoulder. His other arm was folded across his chest in a familiar pose.

“My guess is, they've gone to their cottage,” Ophelia said.

“They sold the cottage,” I told her. “They don't own it anymore.”

She turned to Charlie. “Where are they?”

He wasn't going to answer. I could see his pupils getting wider. His eyebrows knotted.

“Charlie,” Mr. Entwistle said, “we can deal with Dr. Abbott. We can't deal with Hyde. Neither can the girls. We have to get them back. The sun will be up soon. There's not much time.”

Charlie looked at the ground, then at me. I wish he'd told me Suki was planning to go. I could have asked Luna to talk her out of it. Perhaps she'd tried.

“They're going to the lake.”

He must have meant Stony Lake, where Charlie's cottage was.

“Where exactly?” Mr. Entwistle said.

“The camp.”

“You mean Camp Kawartha?” my uncle asked.

Charlie glanced at me, then said yes.

Ophelia had assumed her headache pose—fingers and thumb rubbing opposite sides of her forehead. She looked at Mr. Entwistle. “Can you go now? Is there time?”

He didn't have an answer.

“I know the place,” Maximilian said. “I can't go. I'm due at the hospital first thing, but you can take my car.”

At the sound of the word
car,
something happened in Charlie's brain. You could see it. His face went from thoughtful, to certain, then to rage.

“This is crazy,” Mr. Entwistle said. The word
crazy
hung in the air like a challenge. Then Charlie attacked my uncle. I can only assume
that he figured out who Agent X really was. Perhaps it was his tone of voice. Something in the way he moved. Or dressed. Or the mention of the word
car.
My uncle had a rocket on wheels. Last year, he'd taken Charlie and Luna hostage and driven them to Montreal in the trunk while I'd sat in the cockpit, totally oblivious.

Maximilian was caught completely by surprise. He turned just in time to have Charlie knock his gun away and slam him up against the far wall. I was already moving. I threw myself at Charlie, shoulder first, in what would have been a textbook tackle if he hadn't ducked. I slipped over the top of him and hit the side of his head with my knee. To Charlie's credit, he rolled with it and came up swinging. He was actually so angry, he'd forgotten about my uncle and was attacking me. I had to play the Artful Dodger for a few seconds until Mr. Entwistle jumped over and tied him up in a bear hug.