Chapter 154: Grandpa Max is Missing
Morning sunlight spilled through the half-open blinds, casting long, golden streaks across the floorboards of the two-story Western-style house.
Upstairs, in the master bedroom, a tall, sharp-featured young man lay sprawled across the mattress.
Brrrring! Brrrring!
A hand shot out from beneath the blankets, blindly smacking the top of the alarm clock on the nightstand. The ringing died instantly. It was exactly eight o'clock.
Klein sat up, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. He let out a long, lazy yawn, stretching his shoulders until they popped.
After a quick wash in the bathroom, he padded downstairs. The house was a classic bungalow layout, spacious and quiet, with the kitchen and dining room flowing into one another on the ground floor.
"Snare-oh, breakfast," Klein called out, pulling out a chair and slumping into it.
A low, raspy grunt echoed from the kitchen. A moment later, a cluster of dry, prehensile bandages whipped around the corner. The resident Thep Khufan expertly balanced a steaming plate of bacon and sunny-side-up eggs, sliding it onto the table right in front of Klein. Another bandage flicked a freshly rolled morning newspaper perfectly into his waiting hand.
Klein dug into his eggs, flipping the paper open with one hand. "Hmm... still boring. Not a single decent headline today."
Five years had passed since that chaotic summer vacation when he was ten. Klein had grown taller, his features sharpening into a handsome, mature edge. But with that peace came a distinct lack of entertainment. Over the past five years, alien monster attacks on Earth had dwindled to almost nothing. It had gotten to the point where Klein actively scoured the daily news, desperately hoping to find some bizarre anomaly or disaster he could poke his nose into.
Unfortunately, Earth was painfully quiet.
Luckily, the rest of the universe wasn't. Whenever the boredom became too much, Klein simply took a trip out to other star systems to stir up some excitement.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Heavy knocks rattled the front door.
"Snare-oh, get the door," Klein mumbled around a mouthful of crispy bacon.
A long strip of bandages shot across the living room, wrapping around the doorknob and twisting it open. Kevin Levin strolled inside, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.
"Take a seat," Klein said, not looking up from the paper. "You eat yet? Want some?"
"Thanks, I'm starving." Kevin pulled out a chair and dropped into it.
Right on cue, Snare-oh's bandages delivered a second plate of hot bacon and eggs, setting it down in front of Kevin.
"So, what brings you here this early?" Klein asked, folding the paper. "Did something actually happen?"
Kevin paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Did you forget? We agreed to go watch Ben's soccer game today."
"Oh." Klein blinked. "Right. Almost slipped my mind." He quickly polished off the rest of his breakfast and pushed his chair back. "Let's go, then."
Kevin shoved the last fried egg into his mouth whole, chewing rapidly. "Mmph. 'Kay."
Klein pulled the front door open, stepping out into the warm morning air.
A booming, earth-shaking bark echoed across the yard. A massive Loboan—a terrifying, bi-pedal alien werewolf—bounded out of a ridiculously oversized, custom-built doghouse, its tail wagging hard enough to kick up dust.
"Hey, Little Black." Klein smiled, reaching up to scratch the Blitzwolfer behind its large, pointed ears.
Kevin stepped out right behind him, instantly freezing. "Let's hit the road, Boss. We'll take my ride." He carefully sidestepped, keeping a very safe distance from the towering alien beast. "Good doggy. Nice doggy."
He knew perfectly well that if the Loboan decided to take a bite out of him, he'd be ripped in half before he could even absorb a piece of metal.
"Guard the house," Klein ordered, giving the Blitzwolfer one last pat before following Kevin out to the street.
Parked against the curb was Kevin's absolute pride and joy—a sleek, heavily modified black-and-green muscle car. The engine purred like a caged beast.
Kevin slid into the driver's seat while Klein claimed the back.
"Where to first, Boss?" Kevin asked, gripping the steering wheel.
"Let's pick up Gwen."
At the mention of Gwen's name, Kevin's hands tightened on the leather wheel for a fraction of a second. He stared straight ahead, a brief flash of complicated emotion crossing his face. He had liked Gwen. A lot. But she had turned him down flat. He also knew exactly who she was constantly looking at, and he had long since made his peace with it.
There were plenty of girls in the world, but Klein was his benefactor, his boss, and his brother. Some lines just weren't meant to be crossed.
Kevin relaxed his shoulders and flashed an easy grin in the rearview mirror. "Alrighty. Next stop, Gwen's."
He slammed his foot on the accelerator. The muscle car roared to life, tearing down the suburban street.
The high school soccer field was packed with cheering parents and students. Ben was currently stationed in front of the goalpost, wearing an oversized goalie jersey and a look of intense concentration.
"Woohoo!"
The scoreboard flashed two to one. Ben's team was holding a fragile lead.
Out on the grass, Cash had possession of the ball. He was currently boxed in by three opposing defenders, his cleats tearing up the turf as he desperately tried to pivot out of the trap.
"Here! Cash! I'm open! Nobody's on me!" JT waved his arms frantically from the left flank, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Cash gritted his teeth. He clearly wanted to break through and take the glory shot himself, but the defenders were closing in fast. After a split-second of internal agony, Cash swallowed his pride and kicked the ball hard toward JT.
JT caught the pass perfectly. Without hesitating, he pulled his leg back and fired a brutal shot straight toward the upper right corner of the net.
The crowd gasped.
In the final second of the match, Ben dove. He stretched out, his gloved hands clamping firmly around the spinning ball just before it crossed the line. He hit the grass, rolling over and holding the ball high in the air.
The referee blew the final whistle.
Ben's team had won. Thanks to his relentless saves, Ben was even awarded the MVP gold medal for the match.
A short while later, near the bike racks, Ben was proudly wearing his shiny new medal, struggling to unlock his bicycle chain.
"Hey! Dweeb!"
Ben jumped, spinning around.
Klein, Gwen, and Kevin were walking across the pavement toward him.
"I saw the game," Klein said, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. "Not bad out there. You actually did some work for once."
"Kevin? Gwen? Cousin?!" Ben's eyes went wide, a massive grin breaking out across his face. He stared at Klein in genuine surprise. Ever since Klein had moved into his own place, he spent most of his time vanishing off-planet on random adventures. Getting him to show up for a high school soccer game was practically a miracle.
"Cousin, did you see that last save?" Ben puffed out his chest, holding up the gold medal so it caught the sunlight. "I was the best guy on the field!"
Klein chuckled, reaching out to give Ben a solid pat on the shoulder.
Kevin crossed his arms, glaring down at Ben with feigned outrage. "Wow. Just wow. You completely ignored us, didn't you?"
"Huh?" Ben blinked, playing dumb. "Did I?"
Watching the two of them instantly fall back into their usual bickering, Gwen let out a soft laugh. She stepped closer to Klein, naturally closing the distance between them until her shoulder brushed against his.
Klein noticed the movement but didn't step away, letting her lean in.
"I want to go show Grandpa my medal," Ben said, finally turning away from Kevin. "Cousin, you want to come with me to find him?"
"Sure," Klein replied. "It's been a while since I've seen the old man. What about you, Dork?"
"Wherever you go, I go," Gwen said smoothly, resting her head lightly against Klein's arm, looking entirely too pleased with the arrangement.
"Kevin?" Klein glanced over.
"Boss, you know me. Where you go, I follow," Kevin said, spinning his car keys around his index finger. "Besides, it's a good excuse to check in on the old man."
With the plan set, the four of them headed out toward Grandpa Max's current location.
The RV park was quiet, surrounded by tall pine trees and crisp, fresh air. Dozens of motorhomes were parked in neat rows along the gravel paths.
Kevin pulled his sleek muscle car into an empty space right next to the familiar, bulky frame of the Rustbucket.
Klein, Gwen, and Kevin stepped out of the air-conditioned car, stretching their legs.
Klein turned around, looking down the long dirt road behind them. A few moments later, Ben came into view, pedaling his bicycle like a madman, his face flushed red and dripping with sweat.
"If you don't pick up the pace, we're going inside without you," Klein called out, highly amused.
"Easy... for you... to say..." Ben wheezed, looking like a dog that had been run ragged. He had practically blown out his lungs trying to keep pace with Kevin's sports car all the way from the school.
"Finally... made it..." Ben gasped, letting his bike tip over and lean against the side of the Rustbucket. He dragged his feet up to the RV's side door and pounded his fist against the metal. "Grandpa! Open up! We came to see you!"
Silence.
There was no movement from inside the Rustbucket. No footsteps. No welcoming voice.
Klein stepped up to the window, pressing his face close to the glass and peering through a narrow gap in the drawn curtains. "Grandpa doesn't seem to be in there."
He crouched down, inspecting the ground near the front tire. He picked up a suspiciously smooth stone, flipped it over, and popped out the spare key hidden inside the hollowed-out bottom.
"Let's go inside and wait," Klein said, sliding the key into the lock.
The door clicked open. Klein stepped up into the RV first.
The interior was pitch black. The lights were completely off, and with the heavy curtains pulled tight over every window, barely any sunlight filtered through.
But worse than the dark was the state of the cabin.
Cabinets were thrown wide open. Cans of strange, pickled alien food were scattered across the linoleum floor. The table was shoved out of place, and cushions were tossed haphazardly across the aisle. It looked exactly like the aftermath of a violent home invasion.
"What happened in here?" Gwen asked, stepping in behind Klein. Her voice tightened instantly, her instincts flaring.
Kevin peered over her shoulder, letting out a low whistle. "Wow. Place got completely trashed."
"Never mind the mess," Klein said.
His lazy, relaxed demeanor vanished in an instant. His eyes turned ice-cold as he stared straight down the narrow hallway, locking onto the pitch-black shadows near the rear sleeping cabin.
"Are you going to step out on your own," Klein's voice dropped into a dangerous, deadly calm, "or do I need to throw you out?"
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