The Chupacabra

First American Edition published in 2014 by Darby Creek, an imprint of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 by Jean Flitcroft

First published in Dublin, Ireland in 2011 by Little Island as The Cryptid
Files:
Mexican Devil
by Jean Flitcroft

All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Flitcroft, Jean.

[Mexican Devil]

The Chupacabra / by Jean Flitcroft.

pages cm. — (The cryptid files ; #2)

Summary: “Vanessa's summer holiday on a ranch in Mexico is turned upside down as she enters a shadowy world of mysterious animal death, magical curses and dark family secrets. As she tumbles headlong into the mystery of El Chupacabra she starts to understand why some call it the Mexican Devil”—Provided by publisher.

ISBN 978–1–4677–3265–9 (lib. bdg. : alk. paper)

ISBN 978–1–4677–3484–4 (eBook)

[1. Chupacabras—Fiction. 2. Mexico—Fiction. 3. Horror stories.]

I. Title.

PZ7.F65785Ch 2014

[Fic]—dc23

2013024084

Manufactured in the United States of America

1 – SB – 12/31/13

eISBN: 978-1-4677-3484-4 (pdf)
eISBN: 978-1-4677-5113-1 (ePub)
eISBN: 978-1-4677-5112-4 (mobi)

To Ian, the love of my life.

CRYPT
O
ZOOLOGY

A cryptid is an animal that some people claim to have seen and which may exist in nature but which has not been accepted by modern science. Scientists who study these creatures are called cryptozoologists. This comes from the Greek word
kryptos
, meaning hidden, and zoology, meaning the study of animals.

The first book in this series is about the Loch Ness monster. In this book it's the Chupacabra—a creature in Mexico that prowls at night, drains the blood of other animals to survive, and has the eyes of the devil.

The air was thick, the heat intense, and Vanessa felt beads of sweat rise like blisters on her skin. She stumbled on into the dark, her hands outstretched as she blindly fingered the air. As she moved, cactus spines scratched her leg and a stone jabbed painfully into the sole of her bare foot. Maybe she should go back, she thought.

Something snuffled and grunted nearby, and insects clacked and ticked all around her. In the dark Vanessa struggled to make sense of the sounds and
then, through it all, she heard a terrible, high-pitched squeal. She stopped suddenly, her legs like lead weights. She probably wouldn't be able to run away even if she tried.

There was something behind her now. The cracking of a small twig sounded like a gunshot in Vanessa's ears. She turned slowly, forcing herself to look. At first she thought she saw a human face, a face that she knew. But the harder she stared, the farther the face retreated into darkness and another one took its place.

Vanessa found herself looking straight into a large, salivating mouth with razor-sharp fangs. Above it two glowing red eyes pulsed to the sound of her heart, which pounded in her chest.

Too shocked to scream, Vanessa took off. She didn't feel the cactus tearing her skin this time or the cuts on her knees when she fell. She got up and kept running. Another high-pitched squeal just in front of her finally made her stop. The anguish in the cry echoed her own pain, and her legs gave way. She fell heavily on something. It felt warm and furry and the feel of it repelled her. What was it? An animal? The Chupacabra itself? She squirmed away until she could
feel the hard ground beneath her again and then lay still. Total exhaustion overcame her. Instead of leaping to her feet, she lay waiting for the Chupacabra to strike; she could smell him in the air. Vanessa began to shiver uncontrollably.

The Chupacabra is a mysterious creature that has killed thousands of farm animals in Mexico and other Central and South American countries. The strange thing is that it kills its prey by draining their blood. As goats were the first reported victims, this deadly cryptid has been called
el Chupacabra
, which is Spanish for “the goat sucker.”

He looked like an army general—an immaculate green uniform with brass buttons, a stiff peaked hat, and a gun in a highly polished holster at his hip.

Vanessa and Nikki gave him their best smiles. But even that wasn't enough to change his expression. He stared sullenly at them.

“
Pasaporte
,” he said abruptly. When he continued in a stream of Spanish the girls looked at each other helplessly.

“
Lo siento
, sorry,” Vanessa said as they handed him their passports. She hoped that an apology in Spanish might soften him up.

No joy. He took a long time examining their passports and then looked up doubtfully. The girls squeezed each other's hands and hoped he wouldn't ask them any more questions in Spanish. Finally he stamped the passports with a vigor that seemed quite over-the-top and, with a wave of his hand, dismissed them.

They bolted through to the baggage hall and found the carousel. While they waited for their bags they laughed about “the general.” It had been funny but a bit scary too.

“OK, customs now. Hopefully we won't get arrested or—”

“Don't even think it, Vanessa!” Nikki burst out. She wasn't used to traveling as Vanessa was.

It was a huge relief when they finally made it to the arrivals hall where Nikki's aunt and uncle were supposed to be meeting them. Unfortunately it was very crowded; way too crowded. The girls stopped and scanned the sea of faces.

“Wow, I know that Mexico City has over twenty million people, but I didn't think they would all be at the airport to meet us,” Vanessa tried to joke. “I wonder …”

But the look on her friend's face stopped her. Nikki was very worried now—she looked close to tears.

“We'll find them, Nikki, or they will find us. Either way we'll be fine,” Vanessa reassured her.

The words were no sooner out of Vanessa's mouth than she spotted them. She elbowed Nikki and pointed, her finger trembling in excitement.

“Look, over there. Isn't that your Uncle Joseph? I think I recognize him from the photograph you have. He's looking around, but he hasn't seen us yet. Go on, wave, see if he waves back.” Vanessa hesitated. “But … is that … could that really be your aunt?”

The woman beside Joseph was staring into the distance. She looked cool and detached, like a film star from an old movie. She was dark-skinned with
inky black hair knotted high on her head. She was tall and slim, with the tiniest waist Vanessa had ever seen. But most striking was the way she was dressed: a fitted top with jewels sewn into the neckline and layers of colorful skirts right down to the ground!

“I don't know.” Nikki shrugged. “Never met her before. Her name's Frida, and she's Mexican; that's all I know.”

“She looks as if she's going to get out her castanets and dance across the terminal,” Vanessa said, craning her neck to see if there was anyone else waiting for them. “No sign of your cousins, though.”

Nikki's cousins were around their own age, a girl of thirteen and a boy of fifteen. Vanessa hoped desperately that they would be OK. She and Nikki were going to be spending four weeks with them on their ranch, after all. At first glance Frida certainly looked a bit strange. But at least Joseph was reassuringly normal. Stocky, with a bit of a belly. A real red-faced Irish farmer.

Nikki gave a hesitant wave, and when the man's face lit up and he hurried toward them, they knew they had hit the jackpot.

“Actually, I'm more interested in that other man
standing beside them. The one who looks like he's just been to band practice,” said Nikki.

Vanessa giggled. Her friend was herself again. The porter did look striking in his bright-red uniform with gold buttons and black trim.

“Posh or what? They certainly like their uniforms over here,” Vanessa muttered as they walked over to meet Nikki's aunt and uncle.

Frida said nothing when Joseph introduced her to the girls, just gave a ghost of a smile. Maybe she didn't speak much English, and their Spanish certainly needed work. That was one of the reasons Vanessa's father had allowed her to make this trip.

The porter took the girls' wheelie bags and led the way out of the terminal building and into a blast of Mexican heat and noise. Horns were honking, people shouting, trolleys trundling and children crying all around them. Wow, they had really arrived!