Daniel X_ Watch The Skies Part 6

"That's horrible! horrible!" said Dana, gasping.

"And I'm guessing the 'caviar' mailing from the television station is how it happened."

"Which means the station is probably one of the first, if not the the first, place Number 5 attacked. Let's go have a look!" first, place Number 5 attacked. Let's go have a look!"

"You may be right, Dana, but I want to check out a few things before going over there."

"Like what? Gym cla.s.s?"

"No. I have to go see somebody."

"Who?"

"Never mind. I'll see you back at the house, okay?"

"Who are you going to see, Daniel?" she asked, tapping her foot impatiently. are you going to see, Daniel?" she asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Well..." I started to explain, but then I clapped her out of existence. It was an awkward thing to explain to anybody, let alone Dana.

Chapter 30.

I PULLED THE van into the diner lot and spotted Judy Blue Eyes through the plate-gla.s.s window, shuttling a brown-rimmed coffee pot back and forth to customers along the counter.

I made my way inside, pulled my "Relax" cap down over my eyes, and took a stool across from the rotating pie display.

She had recovered well from the other night, and it would be an understatement to say she was looking pretty cute.

"Hey, you!" she said, spotting me and causing my alien heart to flop around in my chest like a fish in the bottom of a rowboat.

"Hey, J-J-," I started to say but, fortunately, she cut off my nervous stutter with a gla.s.s of water and a menu.

"So, um, how's it going?" I finally managed to ask.

"Good. How's it going with you? you?" she asked.

"Good."

"Want another of those grilled cheese sandwiches you liked so much-with a slice of pickle in it?"

"Sure. Great. Thanks." I was doing well with the one-word sentences. "Look, um, Judy -"

"Yes?" she asked, batting her eyes and causing me to forget what I had meant to ask her.

"So, has anything... unusual happened since the other night?"

"Unusual? Like what?"

"Like, um, anything weird?"

"Where? Here, at the diner?"

"Yeah, or in your neighborhood, or at school."

"My school is always weird-my parents have been homeschooling me since eighth grade. It totally stinks." school is always weird-my parents have been homeschooling me since eighth grade. It totally stinks."

"I'm sure they're doing what's best for you."

"Yeah, completely destroying my social life is just what the doctor ordered."

"Seriously, you never go to school?"

"Pretty much just for standardized tests. Like twice a year."

"So when do you get out to see your friends?"

"Friends? I'm lucky to get out for piano lessons. I took this job pretty much just so I could talk to other human beings." How ironic that she had found herself talking to a nonhuman instead How ironic that she had found herself talking to a nonhuman instead, I thought. "Only problem is it's usually old truckers, munic.i.p.al employees, and police. My parents figure it's good experience for me and a chance for me to earn some money for college."

"I'm impressed."

"Yeah, they seem to think I'll get into a better school this way. And who knows? Maybe they're right. Maybe Mulberry Avenue Academy is is better than Holliswood High." better than Holliswood High."

"What's Mulberry Avenue Academy?"

"Mulberry Avenue is the street my house is on. I was trying to make a joke, stu."

"Stu? Um, my name's Daniel."

"Stu's not just short for Stuart, stu stupid."

I was unprepared for that, but I was pretty sure she was flirting.

"So you feel like it's a good idea to tease me even with a name like you've got?" I said pointing at her name tag. "I mean, it seems to me if you want to go that way -"

"My real last name's McGillicutty. My boss couldn't spell it over the phone to the uniform supplier, so he put the order through as Judy Blue Eyes."

"McGillicutty, huh?" I was tempted to tell her name sounded just like a substance, magillakedi, that's excreted by a three-hundred-pound centipede-like creature from Frizia Nine and is one of the three worst-smelling compounds ever discovered... but then I thought better of it.

"So, remind me.... Did you say you wanted that sandwich, stu?"

We were staring pretty hard into each other's eyes at this point, and I was feeling a little giddy. "Sure, a sandwich would be great."

Chapter 31.

ONE MINUTE JUDY was herself-smiling, bouncing down the length of the counter to pa.s.s my order through the kitchen window-and the next minute, the diner was almost as surreal as an alien picnic.

All at once the volume on the TV set above the cash register went from mute to ear busting. A number from that High School Musical High School Musical show started to crescendo, and suddenly Judy was juggling coleslaw cups and then twirling the two-foot-long pepper mill like she was a majorette. show started to crescendo, and suddenly Judy was juggling coleslaw cups and then twirling the two-foot-long pepper mill like she was a majorette.

Then the volume went back down, and, without missing a beat, she was back leaning across the counter looking at me.

"That's funny," she said, putting down the mill. "You asked for pepper, right?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Listen," I said, getting out my wallet. "I just remembered I have to walk the dog." Even weirder than Judy's juggling routine was the fact that Zac Efron from High School Musical High School Musical was starting to look a little like Number 5 to me. Sure sign it was time to split. was starting to look a little like Number 5 to me. Sure sign it was time to split.

"Oh, okay," she said, looking a little surprised.

"Just promise me you'll keep your eyes open for anything strange, okay?"

"You betcha, cutie."

Did I mention Alien Hunter superability number 415? Yeah, I can blush so hard that Santa could probably give Rudolph a season off and have me me guide his sleigh at night. guide his sleigh at night.

So my big giant red head and I stuttered "Th-th-thanks," and left a nice tip on the counter.

I scanned the room for danger on my way out and noticed a few shady dudes in one of the corner booths. Their overcoat collars were turned up, their rain hats pulled down, and, though they were taking pains to hide their faces behind their menus, I got a definite glimpse of blue skin blue skin.

I quickly looked away, continued on as if nothing was wrong, and, as I pa.s.sed the coffee machine, grabbed two full pots and threw the boiling-hot liquid right into their laps.

I knew it wasn't going to do any real damage, but there's nothing like a good old-fashioned, lawsuit-worthy, scorching-hot coffee spill to really tick someone off.

It worked like a charm.

Chapter 32.

I WAS OUT the door and into the parking lot in a flash, four coffee-scalded aliens hot on my tail.

"I hate when that happens," I said pointing at the damp, yellow stains on their poorly fitting pants. "So-o embarra.s.sing!" embarra.s.sing!"

"You. Are. So. Dead Dead," said the biggest one. He pressed a b.u.t.ton on a small electronic device he was holding, and the back door on a tractor-trailer parked at the rear of the lot rolled open, revealing an interstellar transport container. That could only mean one thing: something very big, very bad, and very foreign foreign was about to appear on the scene. was about to appear on the scene.

An unnerving roar emanated from within, and, a moment later, an enormous s.p.a.ce creature leaped out into the parking lot.

With the body of a six-hundred-pound lion, a giant ant's head with wicked-sharp mouthparts, and a stinger on its tail the size of a baseball bat, the creature gave the impression that it wasn't here to march in the annual firemen's parade.

It let out another roar and pawed at the pavement like an angry bull, its antennae pointing at me like twin rifle barrels.

"Um, why's it looking at me? me?" I asked the aliens. One of them responded with a grizzly voice.

"Every day since it was a kitten, its trainers have punished it with a stick that was coated in the scent of your pathetic Alparian species. It may have never met you personally, but, trust us, it hates your guts. hates your guts."

"Um," I said, trying to decide whether giant lions or giant ants scared me more, "you wouldn't have any spare deodorant I could borrow, would you?"

The henchbeasts thought that was hilarious.

Chapter 33.

I DON'T KNOW if you're a fan of nature doc.u.mentaries or otherwise familiar with the African savanna's ecosystem, but the truth is that even if the lion is King of the Jungle, he's not quite an all-powerful ruler.

The only truly supreme creature on that continent-the one creature that no no other animal will go against-is the African elephant. other animal will go against-is the African elephant.

Weighing in at seven tons, more than twenty times the size of the largest lion, five times the size of a rhino, and with ivory-hardened tusks capable of tearing open a Jeep, there isn't much that's going to risk challenging the will of a full-grown bull elephant.

So I changed myself into one.

Although, in deference to my adversary's mutant alien status, I included some special bonus features that I'll explain shortly.

Unfortunately, my sudden shape change didn't have the immediate effect I intended. Instead of leaping back into his cage, scared out of his wits, the beast charged me at an alarming rate of speed, leaping almost straight up into the air so that he could land on my back and dig his claws, jaws, and poison stinger into my unprotected flesh.

I quickly jumped sideways-setting off a few car alarms as I landed-turned around, dropped to my front knees, and raised my big elephant b.u.t.t at the pouncing alien beast.

Now, before you interpret this move as a sign of submission, think again: What trumps an ant... besides a giant sneaker?

A spider. Ant-lion versus elephant-spider! elephant-spider!

I raised my tail, exposing a ma.s.sive set of spinnerets, and fired a tangle of web that would have impressed even Peter Parker.

The ant-lion fell to the pavement with a thud, bound up like a mummy. It growled at me in rage, wriggling helplessly in its silken straitjacket.

I knew I didn't have much time before the aliens regained their wits and decided to attack me themselves, so I quickly charged up to the ant-lion, knelt down, and probed through the sticky threads with my trunk to find the back of his armored head.

Then I undertook one of the more challenging telepathic adjustments I'd ever undertaken.

"I hope this works," I said, ripping the threads from its struggling body.

Fortunately, it did-the reprogrammed ant-lion quickly leaped to its feet, gave me a startled stare through his bulging bug eyes, and charged after the henchbeasts.