Monster - A. Lee Martinez [49]
“How the hell did you come up with that?” asked Monster.
“It’s a simple inductive process involving higher-function logic and hyper-observational talents. It’s not something I could explain. Some humans have a lesser version of it. They mistakenly label it intuition.”
“Yeah, I get it. You’re a superbeing from the sixth dimension. Great for you until someone lights a match,” Monster said. “You’re suggesting this comes from her id?”
Chester folded himself a jaw to gape again.
“Hey, I’m not an idiot,” said Monster. “I know some stuff. I’ve read a few books.”
“Comic books?”
“No. I saw it in a movie, okay? Forbidden Planet. Great movie.”
“It’s based on a Shakespeare play, y’know,” said Chester.
Monster shrugged. “Well, it’s still a great movie. What do you think? If I find her and apologize, my gaborchend problems will end?”
“Couldn’t hurt. Why don’t you give her a call?”
“I never got her number. I don’t suppose that superior not-exactly-intuition-but-close-enough of yours knows it.”
“It’s not a psychic phone book.”
“And yet you expect me to keep believing you’re a higher being.”
They got into the car. Everything in the interior, including the seats, was made of tin.
“It doesn’t have any floorboards,” observed Chester, pointing to the unobstructed view of the street below.
“Stay in your seat then.”
Monster started the car. Its engine roared as the tin chassis rattled. It was a rough ride, and the car wasn’t even in motion yet. He lowered his goggles and wrapped a scarf around the lower half of his face to keep from swallowing any bugs along the way. The car lurched forward, immediately striking something.
They didn’t have to get out to see what they’d hit. Monster rolled the car forward until a freshly stunned gaborchend passed into view.
Monster just kept going.
The ride was as smooth as could be expected from a car with tin wheels and no suspension. Chester flattened himself against the seat and held on to avoid being blown away by an unexpected breeze, which wasn’t strictly necessary since he didn’t blow away easily. But he wasn’t taking any chances. By the time they reached Judy’s apartment, Monster’s butt had gone numb and his fingers were red from holding on to the thin ring of metal that served as a steering wheel. Next time he’d remember to grab a pillow and some gloves.
They stood before Judy’s ruined apartment, marked off by police tape.
“Really should’ve gotten her number,” said Chester. “Would’ve made things a lot easier.”
The faded troll stench was still strong enough to make Monster wrap his face with his scarf as he ventured inside. He risked only as far as the living room, finding a scrap of sock that should’ve been enough to link a decent tracking spell before returning to the parking lot.
“You’d better be right about this, Chester,” he said. “If Judy isn’t connected to this, then I’ll probably be dead pretty soon, buried under a pile of goat men.”
“It’s just a hunch.”
“What happened to that legendary superbeing hypersensitivity?”
“The thing about that,” admitted Chester, “it works better on my home plane.”
Monster glared. “Stop covering your paper ass and keep an eye out while I write the tracking runes.”
Paulie’s apartment door opened. Shirtless, he emerged with Gracie on his arm.
“Hey, aren’t you that guy?” asked Paulie. “That guy who, y’know, was here when that thing happened?” He stared off blankly for a moment. “Y’know, that thing with the things.”
“That’s me,” said Monster as he drew a circle on the pavement with some chalk and dropped the sock into it.
“You weren’t very nice to Judy,” said Gracie.
“He’s not very nice to anyone, miss,” said Chester.
Monster stopped flipping through his rune dictionary. “Do you know her?”
“Sure,” said Paulie. “Judy’s cool.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“Sorry, dude.”
“I know where she is,” said Gracie. “She left a note.”
“She did?” asked Paulie.
“I meant to give it to you but forgot.”
“Great,” said Monster, abandoning his tracking spell. “Where is