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because a weirdo in tube socks and sandals stole a paper map from my father’s shop.
As I lay there, looking the monster in the eyes while it snarled and lashed at my face, and it just stopped with a flash of light. The pupils of its bright red eyes rolled to the back of its head and its body went completely limp against mine. I could barely process anything that was going on but after a moment, my senses returned to me. To my left, I heard footsteps approaching, crunching in the sand.
“You alright?” they asked me, but I wasn’t quite sure what to respond with. I definitely was not okay, but it may be rude to say considering whatever they’d done had just saved my life. Looking over, I saw him. Approaching me was the man himself, the Snowbird. When he reached me, he lay down the rifle in his hands. It was metallic, shiny, and had several glowing buttons. It looked like something you’d see in Star Wars. He knelt and pushed el Chupacabra’s body from atop me, then helped me to my feet. Just then, I realized he was wearing the suit I saw in that old newspaper, but now not in black-and-white, it was teal in color. He dusted off my shoulders and looked at the wounds on my shoulders.
“Here, you’re hurt,” he said abruptly, ignoring my question, then went off to where he had come from. About thirty feet away, he had dropped a case. Returning with