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“Precisely,” he said. “While the legend of el Chupacabra has existed for over twenty years on your planet, I have been chasing him for a matter of weeks.” He spoke so matter-of-factly that I felt compelled to believe him. The science of it made no sense to me, but who was I to argue with the man who appeared in that newspaper from all those years ago?
“And Gerald Krantz?” I asked.
“A cover identity. Just like the tourist getup,” he
shrugged. “But now I think it’s time we went our separate ways.”
“But what about what happened here? What’s going to happen?” My questions were shot in rapid-fire, but he remained silent as he turned back to his case and punched in another number. There was that flash of shimmering light and then a small, rectangular object, reminiscent of a camera, appeared inside. He took the not-camera from the case and turned back to me.
“I’m sorry, kid,” he said with a sigh. He raised the object and I feared the worst.
“W-What’s that gonna do? Scramble my brain? K-Kill me?” I sputtered, holding out my hands.
“Please, I’m not gonna tell anyone. Who’d believe me? You’ve seen how people react to Chupacabra sightings. It’s a joke!”