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chapter four

The whole walk back to town, our heads are spinning. I mean, not really spinning – that would be weird because human heads are not designed to spin. In fact, a spinning head is probably fatal . . .

Unless you’re a zombie.

Oh man, zombie heads can spin. One time I whacked one with my hockey stick, and –

So maybe not technically spinning, but yeah – we are confused. We just got whooped.

Whooped by a human!

A human who speaks the language of Ŗeżżőcħ!

A human who stole my Louisville Slicer!

I’m lost in a general sort of ‘feeling sorry for myself’ vibe – which is not a Jack Sullivan-type feeling. I never feel sorry for myself. The worse things get, the more gung-ho positive I am. That’s like my trademark!

Well, actually, the Louisville Slicer is my trademark. And . . .

CRUD, SHE STOLE IT THE HUMAN STOLE MY TRADEMARK!

I mean, what’s Luke Skywalker without his lightsaber? Just a farm boy with a whiny streak. Or what’s Katniss without her bow and arrow? She’s probably the first tribute to bite the big one, that’s what.

We’re coming into Wakefield Town Square – the place where me, my human buddies, and the good-dude monsters live in awesome harmony. Monster City!

And in Monster City I see worried monster faces.

‘Aww,’ I say. ‘That’s nice. They’re sad for me ’cause I don’t have my bat.’

‘Jack, they have no idea you lost your bat,’ June says.

‘Didn’t lose,’ I say. ‘Stolen.’

June sighs. ‘You know what I mean . . .’

‘Um, no – actually I don’t know what you mean. Retainers are lost. Phone chargers are lost. This is GRAND THEFT!

June groans. ‘OK, fine, Jack, whatever. Bottom line: the reason the monsters are bummed is just because now they’re extra afraid of the snow.’

June’s right. I see it on their faces. Fear.

‘No, no – the winter didn’t hurt us. It was a bad human and a giant monster!’ I shout.

I catch sight of Bardle. He’s the first monster friend we got to know well. And he’s eyeing me like he knows something is up. He beckons to us from the doorway of his home base, Joe’s Pizza.

Moments later, we’re inside, sitting in an old grease-stained booth. Bardle’s across from me . . .

Bardle pours me a cold grape soda, and I knock it back it one big swig. I was going to deliver a very serious, dramatic speech – but I start talking, my friends get excited, and it just comes out . . .

Bardle’s face freezes. ‘A human spoke that language? Are you certain?’

I nod.

‘What did she say?’ Bardle asks. ‘I must know the words!’

Quint is good with languages. He’s been taking French, Spanish, and Bulgarian since like third grade. ‘I’m not certain I can pronounce it,’ he says. ‘It was something like . . . SOO ZUT CROOLER.’

June knows Spanish, because her parents spoke it at home. Her attempt sounds like, ‘ZOUL SUT CRULLER.’

‘Guys, she didn’t say cruller, I say. ‘Why would she say cruller? Crullers are delicious snake donuts and I don’t think she was talking about snake donuts.’

June sighs. ‘Jack, crullers aren’t snake donuts. They’re just long pastries that have –’

‘NOPE! SNAKE DONUTS!’ I say.

Dirk suddenly slams his fist on the table. His voice is a growl. ‘Guys, this is serious. Stop talking about snake donuts.’ He seems embarrassed to try, but then says, ‘Bardle, I heard something like – ahem – SUU ZOULT KRUELER.’

Bardle’s eyes narrow. Whatever Dirk said – he got it right. Bardle gently massages one of his long ear hairs. ‘This means . . . IT HAS BEGUN.’

‘Wait – what’s begun?’ June asks.

Suddenly a cold darkness seems to pass over the room. I shiver. The lights flicker. It’s a coincidence, I’m sure – just ice on the generator – but it’s eerie.

Bardle shakes his head. ‘I do not know what’s begun. But for some reason, a human speaks the language of Ŗeżżőcħ. That human stole your blade. And with it, that human has begun something.

Bardle suddenly stands . . .

chapter five

That night, the strange human villain haunts my dreams, like the baddie in an ’80s horror movie . . .

I wake up shivering. Partly from the cold – because yeah, IT IS FREEZING. My winter sleeping outfit is someone’s weird old Halloween CHEWBACCA COSTUME. And Quint’s makeshift heater – a bunch of PlayStations and Xboxes piled on top of one another – is not working.

But mostly, it’s a shiver of fear.

That was a human villain. A human villain using MY WEAPON as part of a bad-dude plan. We need to find that human and retrieve my Louisville Slicer. And soon! Because if this monster-riding human decides to attack, I’m afraid we’re unprepared . . .

See, our monster town is now a ghost town. The monsters are huddled up inside stores and shops inside Wakefield Town Square, too terrified of the snow to come out.

This must be fixed.

I brew some hot chocolate, and the smell soon has my buddies waking. ‘Guys,’ I say. ‘This villain lady knows stuff about Ŗeżżőcħ. So, if a fight goes down – and fights DO KIND OF ALWAYS GO DOWN AROUND HERE – then we need our monster buddies ready to rumble alongside us. And they are not ready to rumble.’

Moments later, we’re outside having a –

LIGHT-HEARTED, JUST-HORSING-AROUND, BUDDY SNOWBALL BATTLE!

‘Isn’t winter the best?!’ I shout as I hurl a snowball.

‘Such a delight!’ June says.

Monsters start watching. Some are huddled up in blankets, peering through frosty windows. I think I even see one watching through a mailbox slot. I grin.

‘Guys, play up the fun!’ I whisper. ‘Everyone loves a good friendly snowball fight!’

That’s when Quint appears on the deck of the tree house with an armful of snowball artillery. Our old-fashioned snowball battle turns awesomely post-apocalyptic and gadgetfied.

Dirk wields our old Tennis Blaster 2000 – which is now the Mobile Snow Sphere Slinger – and things intense . . .

We’re all giggling and laughing and freezing.

And it’s working. A monster comes shambling out and joins the fun!

Unfortunately, that monster is Biggun. He scoops up a Biggun-sized snowball and –

FROSTY BIGGUN BLAST!

And that’s the end of that. The Biggun Blast freezes us to the core. We spend the rest of the day in the tree house, huddled up near the video game systems, trying to get warm.

And the monsters are now extra freaked out. They’ve become afraid of snow in both flake form and ball form.

When we’ve finally finished thawing out, Dirk makes a suggestion: ice fishing.

‘Fish for ice?’ I ask. ‘Why would we fish for ice? Ice is everywhere! The whole world is basically a Super Mario snow level.’

‘No, dork,’ Dirk says. ‘You fish for fish through a hole in the ice. It’s my favourite part about winter. C’mon. I know a spot.’

We convince Skaelka and a few other monsters to join us. They agree – but only after I promise they’ll get to eat GIANT HUNKS OF RAW FISH.

We’re walking along a wooded trail, freezing our butts off, when I hear movement in the trees.

‘Whoa, look!’ Junes says. ‘Two little critters just went tumbling past!’

Skaelka halts. A strange snarl sound escapes her nostrils and her hands tighten around her axe. She suddenly means business.

‘What’s the alone one?’ June asks.

‘One not in the community,’ Skaelka says. ‘One that does not matter.’

And the way Skaelka says it – it’s clear the conversation is over. Skaelka is no big fan of the alone one.

At the lake, I learn something that’s a bummer: ice fishing is the most boring thing on earth. You drill a hole in the ice and you just sit there! That’s literally it! THE WHOLE THING! You can’t even talk because apparently that ‘scares away the fish.’

After the fifth hour of cold nothingness, I say, ‘If monsters don’t get me first, I will die of boredom.’

‘Hey! No talking!’ Dirk says. ‘Listen to nature. Hear the peace and quiet and –’

ICE TENTACLE BURST!

So . . . fishing was a big fat icy fail. The only thing we caught was a cold. And there’s no way Quint with a runny nose is going to get any creature excited about winter.

I’m sitting in the tree house, bemoaning all this, when Quint says, ‘SNOWMEN!’

‘Snow creatures!’ June declares.

I keep my mouth shut – but I have thoughts on snowmen. One word: OVERRATED. It’s one of those things that sounds awesome but is never as good as you think it’s going to be. I always start off excited about building some massive amazing snowman, but then a few hours later –

But, we actually do pretty good! Dirk is, like, a master snow craftsman. He even gets out a tool kit and carves a totally beautiful ice sculpture. Dude is full of hidden talents.

It’s going well – until the monsters get a load of our constructions – and then it goes bad . . .

"What about ice skating?” June asks. "Ice skating is fun. And before you give me grief – I’m not talking regular ice skating. I’m talking end-of-the-world-ice-skating. Down the old highway that runs to the beach and boardwalk!”

Dirk’s in, because he’s a hockey master. June’s in, because she’s generally athletic, nimble, and above-average at everything. Quint’s in because he doesn’t like being left out of things.

It goes awry – of course.

It goes awry because this massive hibernating horror wakes up and goes nuts . . .

I’m beat; totally out of ideas for turning our monster friends into winter-lovers. And even worse, we’re no closer to figuring out what the deal is with the Villainess and what she did with my Louisville Slicer! She could be – I dunno – slow dancing with it right now!

Argh.

I need a long winter nap. So I head to our hammock, but when I get there, I see that June’s beat me to it. And she looks even more bummed out than I feel.

Oh, real quick – our hammock is not a regular hammock. It’s a monster winter hammock and it’s kind of the best.

See, after the temperature dropped we discovered that one monster – Kylnn – constantly radiates heat. His whole body feels like some sort of living fireplace!

So I, being a napping expert, grabbed a hammock from the local Home Depot and strung it up. I suspended it from Kylnn’s biggest back spikes. I’m pretty sure I have created the single most snuggly sleeping spot on planet Earth.

I sit down next to June. We lie there for a bit, just quietly looking up at a cloudy blue sky.

‘You OK, buddy?’ I finally ask.

June shrugs and pushes off from a spike, swinging us out. ‘It’s just all this winter stuff. It reminds me of – y’know – Christmas. It’s got me thinking about last year’s Christmas. Normal Christmas.’

June shoots me a look. Oh right. I forgot. She doesn’t love the ‘monster-zombie-crossbow-filled adventure-scape’ the same way I do.

June continues. ‘When we were getting ready to set out on our road trip for New York, I had this idea. I’m sure it was just a total pipe dream of a hope – but I thought we might get to New York. And find my family. And in time for Christmas. Then I could celebrate Christmas, for real. But I guess not . . .’

I’m not sure what to say. See, I was an orphan, never had a real family. When the world went to the monsters, my foster family of the month fled. Here, with my buddies and our monster community, I finally feel like I do have a family. But for my human friends – it’s the opposite.

Sometimes I forget that the gung-ho happiness that comes so easy to me is way harder for everyone else. And I can’t keep forgetting that.

It’s not right.

It’s not being a good friend.

And being a post-apocalyptic monster-battling tornado of wannabe cool – that stuff’s great, that stuff’s important. But it’s not even a fraction as important as being a solid buddy. And that’s what June needs right now.

Then it hits me. Two birds, one stone!

I sit up and grab June by the shoulders. ‘June, I can’t give you that classic family Christmas – but together we CAN have our own totally original joy-missile of a Christmas with just our best buddies in the world! We can make up our own new traditions! Like Christmas fireworks – aren’t those the best?’

‘Christmas fireworks aren’t a thing, Jack.’

‘THEY ARE NOW!’ I say. ‘Also, Christmas pie-eating contests! June, this is actually amazing. We have the chance to design our own awesome Christmas. Just as crazy, weird, and whatever as we want!’

June shifts in the hammock. She blows into her hands, thinking. ‘And you know what – since Christmas is the best . . .’

I smile and nod. ‘If there’s one thing that can convince the monsters that winter is A-OK, it’s Christmas!’

‘Boom,’ June says. ‘Seal it with a fist bump.’

We walk back to the tree house. At the ladder, June suddenly stops. She looks deep into my eyes. I’m wondering if this might be sort of a romantic moment or something, but instead . . .

‘You’ve got your Louisville Slicer, and you love it!’ June says. ‘I want to feel that sort of love for a monster-battling weapon.’

It’s true.

My love for the Louisville Slicer is a once-in-a-lifetime love. I could write a song about it.

June deserves that sort of love!

That will be my Christmas gift to her. One post-apocalyptic monster-battling tool TO RULE THEM ALL!

And you know what else?

I have lost my love.

No. Worse. My love was stolen from me! It has fallen into the hands of an enemy! And that enemy is up to something.

I’m not just waiting around. I need to go and get it. I need to find out WHO this villain is. Because only then will I get what I want for Christmas . . .

chapter six

Quint wakes me up and I groan. ‘Dude, I was in the middle of a dream! I was in a big field and I was riding Rover and I was swinging the Louisville Slicer and it was warm and I had a cool moustache. Can you just let me go back to sleep?’

But Quint says, ‘I think I know how to find the Villainess.’

‘SAY WHAT?’ I instantly leap to my feet.

Quint smiles and holds up the card that the Villainess dropped. I completely forgot about it! ‘It’s a library card!’ Quint says. ‘We can get her name at the library! And maybe her address!’

‘And that’ll lead us to her. And to the Louisville Slicer!’ I say. ‘LET’S DO THIS.’

I try to gather the squad – but they’re busy. June is plotting how best to explain Christmas to the monsters. ‘I don’t want it to be lousy like the fishing or the snowmen or ice skating,’ she explains. ‘I want to introduce them to Christmas so perfectly that they have to love it.’

Meanwhile, Dirk is working on Big Mama. Who knows why he’s bothering. We already know it can’t make it all the way to New York until the snow passes. Maybe he’s polishing it or putting on some cool spinning rims or something.

It’s all good, though, ’cause now it’ll be a . . . CLASSIC QUINT & JACK DUO ESCAPADE!

Quint has invented a way for us to get there. See, Rover does not like the snow. He’s got sensitive paws or something.

So Quint reveals . . .

The winter HOVERBOARD!

It’s super rad. But I don’t know why these things are called hoverboards. There is ZERO HOVERING. I’ve seen Back to the Future Part II and I know that a hoverboard is supposed to legit hover. This is a rolling balance thing. But, regardless – it’s pretty awesome. Only problem, despite Quint’s winterizing modifications, it’s still a little slippery . . .

We arrive bruised and cold – and not eager to use hoverboards again.

The library is an old building that’s awesome, but also creepy. It was built in, like, the 1800s. I don’t know if you’re good with dates and stuff like I am – but that’s a long time ago.

I scan for danger. I see none. I hear none. But I’m a post-apocalyptic action hero, so I know that doesn’t mean there is none.

‘Steel yourself, Quint,’ I growl, as we roll toward the entrance. ‘Probably all manner of terror awaiting us.’

We are greeted by zero undead librarians, no zombie old folks attempting to ‘surf the web,’ and no monster-sized bookworms, snakes, caterpillars, or Wormungulouses.

‘The coast is clear,’ Quint says. ‘So I’m getting to work!’

He hops off his hover board and quickly goes behind the front desk. ‘I can’t believe I’m getting a peek behind the library counter!’ he says giddily. ‘It’s a dream come true!’

This is the stuff that gets my buddy excited.

See, before I moved to Wakefield, Quint had zero friends. After I moved to Wakefield, he had one friend. (That friend was me, in case you were having trouble following the math.)

But during those years where Quint had zero friends – he spent his time at the library. Libraries are awesome like that. They should have that Statue of Liberty sign out front – y’know, give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to read graphic novels. Libraries rule because everyone’s welcome!

‘Good news, friend!’ Quint says as he yanks open a filing cabinet. ‘No computer needed – this library keeps physical records!’

He searches by library card ID number. In just moments –

‘FOUND HER!’

BOOM. LOVE IT. Classic Quint and Jack Duo Escapade is off to a perfect start!

Quint steps around the desk, waving a folder. My heart pounds. ‘Inside that vanilla folder,’ I say, ‘is the name of our enemy.’

‘Manila folder,’ Quint says. ‘With an m. Why would a folder be vanilla?’

‘Um, because it’s like white-yellow-ish – the colour of vanilla. Why would it be MANILA? That’s not even a WORD.’

‘It is,’ Quint says with a sigh. ‘Trust me. But what you were saying is correct – inside this MANILA FOLDER is . . .’

The name. Of the villain. He opens it.

I read: EVIE SNARK.

I say the name, over and over, inside my head. Evie Snark. She is the villain. She is the human who speaks the language of Ŗeżżőcħ.

‘OK, fight time,’ I say. ‘I’m ready to storm this villain’s house and do a full-on battle attack fist-eating Louisville recovery raid!’

Quint frowns. ‘Alas, there is no address listed for this Evie Snark. But there still may be more to learn here! Look, her checkout history! She took out a LOT of books from a library section called Obscure Beliefs and Strange History. Come, friend!’

Obscure Beliefs and Strange History turns out to be the weirdest part of the library. It’s in a back corner of the basement, and it is the absolute most dusty, most musty. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here since the days of Nintendo 64 – though I guess Evie Snark must have been here at some point.

Quint plops down, cross-legged, and plucks a book from the shelf. I see what’s happening. He’s going to sit here, going through book after book, page by page, for the next, oh, nineteen hours or so.

And that is nineteen hours that I do not want to be a part of. I want to fast-forward to the part where we get back my Louisville Slicer.

‘Quint, buddy, enjoy the research. I hear the graphic novels calling my name.’

‘Mm-hmm, OK,’ Quint murmurs as I zip off.

But I don’t make it to the graphic novels. I pass the DVD section, and that gives me a lightning bolt of an idea! I can help June! What better way to help show monsters the wonders of Christmas than with a Christmas movie marathon?

I jam a dozen of my favourite Christmas movies into my bag.

And then I smell it.

Not evil.

In fact, the very opposite of evil.

Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

I whirl around: a vending machine! AKA a Happiness Dispenser. And it could not come at a better time – after our icy ride through the snow, I’m ravenous.

Two problems. One – I have no coins. Two – there’s no electricity, so even if I had coins, they’d be useless. Normally, I could whip out the Louisville Slicer and go berserker mode on this thing . . .

Without my Louisville Slicer, I am – again – basically helpless. But I’ve got my trademark Jack Sullivan unattractive, gangly arms! I can reach up in there and totally, no problem, nab that Reese’s!

In a flash, I’m down on my butt, sort of half turned over. ‘Oh yeah. Come to Jack, sweet chocolate. Come to daddy-o.’

I’ve almost got it, and –

Crud. My arm is stuck. Pinched between metal and candy!

No problem – I’ll just, uh – do a cool bone manipulation thing and yank my arm out, and –

Crud. Again.

A new smell. Have you ever smelled dog vomit? Imagine that, smothered in BBQ sauce.

I look up – and I gulp.

Some sort of monstrous, slurping, aboveground-like octopus is dragging itself toward me . . .

‘Hey, creepy aboveground octopus. Just FYI: my arm may be stuck, but I’m still totally a heroic hero and I’m totally in control and I will bust you up, SO STAY PUT!’

The thing keeps coming. But it’s okay. I know 100 percent exactly how to handle this . . .

I yank and pull but – ahh, fisticuffs! – I’m stuck elbow-deep! Argh. I need, like – I dunno – Mega Man’s blaster! Or Wolverine’s claws! Or Ash’s chainsaw arm! Any wrist-attached weapon would be a big help here. Or MY FREAKING LOUISVILLE SLICER!

The wet beast slithers forward, and –

I GOT IT!

I mean, I don’t ‘got it’ in the sense that I know what to do, but . . . I GOT THE REESE’S!

It’s coming, I’m done for, and then –

BOOM!

A rolling library cart slams into the monster. There’s a wet SPLAT and the monster is suddenly airborne, sailing across the library! Books fly. Pages flap. Quint grins down at me from atop the cart.

‘Hello, friend,’ he says. ‘Looks like you needed a bit of rescuing.’

The vending machine falls. It takes me with it, flipping me over, but –

I pop out! Arm free! We hop on the cart, roll out the door, and speed away across the ice . . .

‘How’d the reading go?’ I ask.

‘Didn’t get much done. I had to bring the books with me so I can keep going through them. I heard your cowardly cry.’

Cowardly cry! Me?

‘However!’ Quint exclaims. ‘More important is this! I discovered that the Villainess – Evie Snark – stopped going to the library after she owed NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS in overdue library fees.’

‘Are you kidding me?’

Quint grins. ‘And it was all for one book . . .’

Getting back is not easy. We eventually abandon the library cart when it gets stuck in the snow, but that means a long walk. Near the outskirts of town, I spot something in the distance. A massive structure, rising up from the snow.

‘What is that?’ I ask Quint.

Quint glances around, and then he sees what I see. He begins muttering, ‘Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.’

‘What is it, buddy? Some bad evil?’

‘Not quite,’ Quint says. ‘It’s – oh, it’s so embarrassing . . .’

He rummages through his wallet and pulls out a newspaper clipping. ‘That’s the ABC Block Smasher Cinema. And I got it shut down . . .’

‘Wait – you shut down a movie theatre?’

Quint nods. ‘I had a problem: my allowance was only enough money for the ticket – no snacks! And you know I can’t enjoy the cinema without delicious treats! So, I began smuggling in candy bars and whatnot. But one day I came home covered in chocolate Goobers goo. My mum knew I only had enough money for the ticket, so she called the theatre!’

‘She ratted?!’ I gasp.

‘The next time I went to see a movie, there was a picture of me at the ticket booth! A big note said KEEP AN EYE ON THIS BOY.’

‘But revenge was mine!’ Quint says. ‘I was watching the latest Marvel blockbuster when I discovered a loose floor panel beneath my seat. Eureka! I smuggled in snacks enough to last an entire summer of blockbusters – and I hid them in the floor!

‘After that, every time I went to the movies I’d go to my spot, flip it open, and eat like a king! It went fine – until one day when THE CANDY WAS GONE!’

‘Someone found your snack stash?!’ I exclaim.

‘Not someone,’ Quint says. ‘A RAT! The fattest rat you ever saw! It leapt out at me. It had eaten approximately nineteen pounds of sweet treats!’

I start laughing. And then I finish unfolding the newspaper clipping . . .

Quint shakes his head. ‘The movie theatre company called in exterminators – but it was too late. The rats had become addicted to sweets, gotten super mean, made a bunch of mean rat babies, and the movie theatre was one big mean rat playground.’

‘DUDE!’ I exclaim. ‘HOW MUCH CANDY DID YOU HIDE?’

‘A lot,’ Quint says with a sigh. ‘They had just reopened the theatre for the summer, Jack. Right before the Monster Apocalypse. Movies were playing! But word on the street was there were still rats scurrying around . . .’

We continue our long trek back home. ‘I can’t believe you shut down an entire movie theatre, buddy.’

Quint shrugs. ‘It was not my proudest moment.’