The next day they came upon a large pond. They splashed around in it for nearly half an hour. Owen jabbed a fish with his talon and threw it into his mouth whole, chewing it rapidly and then offering Toby a scale-tainted smile.

"You could have at least left me the tail or something," Toby said.

After a few minutes of effort, Owen hooked another one. Toby built a small fire, used a branch as a skewer, and cooked up the fish perfectly. He ate most of the meat. Owen ate the head, tail, and bones.

They swam some more, until Owen indicated that it was time to leave.

The bugs seemed a lot worse in this part of the forest, but Toby buried his face into Owen's back and was still able to get a decent night's sleep.

"How far do you think we've come so far?" Toby asked, as they walked side by side. It had to be at least fifty miles. Maybe closer to seventy-five. "Are we almost there?"

Yes.

"This is going to be worth the trip, right? It's not going to just be a slightly larger cave? Because by 'long trip' I kind of thought you meant a few hours, and I never asked Mr. Zack for the time off. I'm in the butcher department now, so we spend a lot of time around knives. Just thought you should know."

Toby took a bite of his tasteless granola bar. Even with raisins, or what purported to be raisins, it was pretty bland stuff. He hadn't really researched it, but he assumed that Magellan had much better cuisine during his travels.

"You need to hunt us a deer," Toby said. "A nice big plump one. Venison. Lots of venison." His stomach growled.

Owen began to jump up and down, almost like a baboon. Toby had never seen his friend act this excited. They must be getting close. Owen pointed ahead, jumped up and down a few more times, then raced off, leaving Toby behind.

Toby hurried after him.

He ran out into the clearing, and then froze. "Oh my God..."

There was another pond. Three creatures relaxed in the water. Long brown hair. Sunken yellow eyes. Enormous fangs. Sharp talons.

Toby didn't know if he should be awestruck or terrified.

Owen looked back at him, and frantically gestured for Toby to follow.

That didn't seem like a good idea. This was the kind of social encounter that one eased oneself into, perhaps over the course of weeks.

Were these Owen's relatives? Or had he just somehow found more of his own kind?

Were they going to welcome him as one of their own, or have a family feast?

What if Owen had lured him all the way out here to be dinner for his new friends? "You want human flesh? Oh, I can get that for you, no problem!"

Shit.

The monsters all looked over at Toby, and then began to quickly emerge from the pond. He should run. He should definitely run.

Instead, he stood there, forcing himself to stay as calm as possible, and let the monsters approach. They moved rapidly at first, until Owen waved them back, after which they carefully crept toward him, watching him with intense curiosity.

Toby couldn't be certain, but the monsters looked like a mother, a father, and a child.

They surrounded him. He shuddered as they gently poked at him, smelled him, tugged at his shirt, and ran their fingers through his hair. Any of the three could easily open up his scalp with one of their talons, and they didn't, so he supposed that he should feel safe. Such a feeling eluded him.

No nibbling. Please, no nibbling.

Owen talked to them in a series of grunts and growls. They talked back. Toby didn't have the slightest clue what they were saying to each other, and Owen wasn't paying attention to his attempts to signal, but at least things didn't appear to be moving in a "let's snap the wishbone" direction.

This went on for several minutes. One of them, the child, did indeed nibble at Toby's elbow, but after a loud growl from Owen he stopped.

Finally the crowd dispersed, leaving Toby standing there, drenched with sweat. The others went off into the trees.

"Is this your family?" Toby asked Owen.

No.

"They seem nice."

Owen led him to the pond. They waded out into the water, waist-deep, and just stood there, enjoying the sunshine. Owen still wasn't off the hook for being gone so damn long, but Toby was thrilled for his friend. He'd often considered that there might be other creatures like Owen out there, but he'd never expected to actually find them, or be smelled by them.

A moment later, the three creatures dragged a deer carcass near the pond. They waited expectantly as Toby and Owen walked to shore, and then all four creatures stared at Toby.

Aw, crap. He was pretty sure that they were waiting for their guest of honor to take the first bite.

"You know that I like my meat cooked, right?" Toby asked Owen. Of course, his friend conveniently had no idea what Toby was talking about. This seemed like a scenario where offending his hosts could be fatal, so Toby reached into the carcass, tore off a small chunk of meat (which didn't come free easily), and reluctantly shoved it into his mouth and chewed.

As if he'd fired a starter pistol, the monsters dove into the dead deer, burying their faces in the raw meat and ripping off huge pieces with their teeth. Owen gestured for Toby to join them, and he held up his hand and tried to make an "I'm full" gesture. Owen didn't insist, probably figuring "More deer for me!" and resumed the dining frenzy.

After the feast, the other three monsters crawled off, presumably to sleep. Toby and Owen sat alongside the pond, feet in the water. Owen yawned.

"You can go take a nap. There's no way in hell I'm falling asleep anytime soon."

No.

"So, pretty nice setup they've got. Are you their uncle Owen or something?"

Owen didn't understand the question.

"It doesn't matter."

Stay.

"Me?"

Yes.

"Oh, no. It's nice out here, but I can't live out in the woods like this."

Or could he? He could spend the rest of his life hanging out by the pond, catching fish and teaching these creatures the art of not eating raw meat. Never shave or get another haircut-just let his hair grow out like Rip Van Winkle. Speak in grunts.

It was an appealing concept.

But, no, of course he couldn't do that. He'd be dead in a week. Any life spent out here would be a life spent making frequent treks into town, shoplifting supplies. He'd gotten away with murdering Larry and Nick, but he'd probably go to jail for swiping a toothbrush.

And he'd spent years building up a bond of trust with Owen-a bond that had, incidentally, resulted in a violent death. He couldn't just assume that these other three fanged, clawed monsters weren't having carnivorous thoughts about him.

It was was kind of cool that he'd found himself in a position where he kind of cool that he'd found himself in a position where he could could live with a quartet of monsters, should he choose to do so. Most people weren't given that particular opportunity. live with a quartet of monsters, should he choose to do so. Most people weren't given that particular opportunity.

He shook his head. "Can't do it, Owen."

Please.

"No. I appreciate that you made the trip to come get me-a couple of years late-but there's no way I can stay out here. I'm human. I'm bad at it, but I'm human."

Owen looked at him sadly.

"It'll be okay. You can stay out here with your friends. I'm much happier with this idea than the idea of being abandoned, you know? I don't know how the hell I'm going to find my way back home, but I'll be okay."

No.

"It'll be fine. Stay with your own kind. I want you to be happy."

Come with you.

"I can't let you do that. You shouldn't be living in a cave all by yourself. What kind of life is that? You spend your days waiting for a loser like me to show up and entertain you for a couple of hours. You should stay here. Be with the kind of people you should actually talk to."

No.

"What kind of friend would I be if I let you go back to Orange Leaf? It's the worst place in the world. I'm going to miss you like you wouldn't believe, but you need to stay here."

No.

"Don't argue with me. I'll come visit. There's this shitty saying, 'If you love something, set it free,' and that's what I'm doing."

The thought of losing his best friend again, so soon after rediscovering him, made Toby heartsick, but he was speaking the truth. He couldn't let Owen come back with him. Not if he'd found a better life here.

Come with you.

"No."

Yes.

"Okay, we don't communicate well enough to have this kind of argument. So you win. We'll both go home." He repeated the signal: Both go home. Both go home. "We'll leave first thing in the morning." "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

His plan was simple. As soon as Owen and the others fell asleep, Toby would sneak off and begin the journey home by himself. He couldn't stop Owen from following him, but he hoped Owen would get the message and stay here by the pond.

Or...he could inadvertently lead three extra monsters to Toby's hometown. That would be problematic.

Nah. They wouldn't leave this nice pond in favor of a crummy little cave. Owen had never before abandoned his dwelling since Toby knew him, so whatever kind of creatures they were, they liked to stay in one place. He wouldn't be able to get the other three to uproot themselves just to hang out with a skinny pink-skinned idiot. Right?

And if Owen did follow him back, great. He'd have his friend back with a clear conscience.

As evening approached, he spent a short amount of time making a rickety shelter out of branches. He was capable of doing much better, he was certain, but this one didn't need to last long. As he laid the branches together, he watched Owen play-wrestle with the child in the mud near the pond.

Toby had named the child Scruffer. The female (he thought) he named Esmerelda. The male (he knew) he named Brutus. There was no hidden meaning to these names; he just thought they were appropriate.

After dark, the creatures went into their den and went to sleep.

Boy, was it dark. Toby couldn't remember ever having been in such complete, enveloping darkness. He couldn't even see the moon through the trees. There could be thousands of snakes slithering only inches from his body. He had a flashlight, which he'd use when he got far enough from their camp, but maybe this was better as an "early in the morning, before they wake up" plan than a "late at night, right after they go to sleep" one.

And he was exhausted. Not a good idea to walk through the pitch-black forest when you were exhausted.

He'd sleep for a couple of hours and decide the best course of action from there.

He woke to Owen prodding him.

No, wait, was was it Owen...? it Owen...?

A clawed hand grabbed his ankle, squeezing tight.

CHAPTER N NINETEEN.

Toby screamed as he was dragged out of the shelter. It fell apart around him, branches scraping his face as the monster pulled his leg. He heard a hungry growl-it had to be Brutus.

He grabbed a branch-hoping it was a long one-and jabbed it forward. Felt like a direct hit. But the roar sounded like fury, not pain.

He jabbed a second time. Missed. His other arm brushed against his backpack, so he grabbed that by the strap and swung it as hard as he could. There was a satisfying smack smack as it struck its target. The claw released his ankle. as it struck its target. The claw released his ankle.

Brutus's roar was still all fury.