Page 71 of (Mostly) Human Resources

“Alexys?”

A chill crept down her spine. Elliot’s voice was nowbehindher. The pitch lower, all traces of panic gone.

“Alexys,” it said again, the sound uncanny, eerily familiar.

She shrank back against a neighboring oak tree. The voice was even closer this time, and the way it said her name, confused and stunted, was like it was saying her name for the first time. Testing it. Tasting it.

“Alexys.”

She pressed a hand to her mouth, silently cursing her impulsiveness. She was a fool for running out into the woods alone. Unarmed and with no idea where she was going. How had she not learned from any of the near-death experiences she’d had so far? The trap was such an obvious one.

“It’s here,” whispered the voice. “It’s here. Alexys?”

Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. She didn’t want to open her eyes. Wasn’t sure when she’d even shut them. The bushes near her left rustled, and she held her breath. She already knew what was there.

“Alexys.” And then another identical voice, “No, no,no…” His voice echoed all around her, overlapping with even more voices, louder and louder.

“Please,someone…”

“Alexys?”

“It’s here.”

And then it stopped.

Her legs shook with the instinct to run as she slowly turned her head toward the sounds.

A sea of red eyes. Jackalopes, dozens of them, stared back at her.

Alexys didn’t scream. She couldn’t even breathe. She balked at the forest full of eyes and ran. Crashing through the trees with such force she surprised even herself. Branches and thorns caught her face, her hands and her clothes. The air burned in her lungs as she tried to avoid slipping on the damp earth. She prayed she was running in the right direction.

The sound of far too many creatures came thundering through the underbrush behind her. Alexys could hear them whispering in Elliot’s voice, calling her name.

She slipped through the mud, careened around a tree, and finally saw the cave and the dying fire tucked against the mountain. She screamed for Nic.

The Jackalopes poured through the trees behind her as she scrambled up the rocks and mud. A sea of hungry cryptids, with torn flesh and salivating teeth.

Nic stumbled out of the cave, hair an absolute mess, his glasses sitting crooked on his face. He looked at her, looked behind her, and all the color drained from his flushed cheeks.

“Quick!” she screamed, racing past him inside the cave. She picked up a smoking piece of wood from the fire, prepared to brandish it.

“You can’t even run away properly, can you?” Nic hissed, storming past her. “I have to doeverythingaround here.”

“Don’t you see!” Her voice cut off when she saw the item in his hand. “Is that a flask?!” she screeched. Sure enough, Nic waved a larger-than-average silver flask at her.

“Whiskey,” he said, as if that answered all of her questions. He walked confidently to the edge of the cave, whistled sharply, and then chucked the silver flask into the woods.

Alexys made it to his side just in time to watch the herd—pack? flock?—of Jackalopes bank a hard left, only a few feet from the cave, chasing off after the flask. The sounds of their crashing through the underbrush faded until the woods were finally quiet once more. Even the cicadas hesitated after the ruckus the Jackalopes had caused. Or maybe she just couldn’t hear them over her still-thundering heartbeat in her ears.

After moment, she let out a long, deep sigh. Nic turned to look at her, his expression equal parts exhaustion and irritability.

“Youclearlydidn’t pay attention to the Jackalope research I sent you last month, either.”

“Was alcoholism part of it?”

He rolled his eyes and finally fixed his glasses. “A Jackalope is highly dangerous and aggressive, however, one can be easily stopped if offered their favorite thing: whiskey. The more aged, the better.” She gaped at him. “What?”

“That’s insane!” Alexys pointed a dubious finger in the direction the Jackalopes had disappeared to. “A flask can be used to stop murderous creatures mid-rampage? That sounds like an old wife’s tale.”