Sweet Sixteen

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Tentacles writhed under the dark leather coat of the man ahead of Buffy. She knew they were tentacles because of the slimy tips poking out from the coat's wide sleeves. The slippery puddle of goo this guy and his three buddies left wherever they shuffled was another dead giveaway they were out-of-towners.

Buffy readied herself for a fight. It was two in the morning, and the Slayer stood in line at the Quick Stop, waiting to pay for the cereal she'd picked up so Dawn wouldn't go hungry in the morning -- not that her little sister ever ate anything that was good for her anyway -- and a Twinkie.

Allshe'dwanted was a Twinkie. A harmless Twinkie. You wouldthinkharmless.

Tell that to Tentacle Guy.

Buffy surveyed the potential battlefield. Okay, harsh overhead lighting, lots of narrow aisles, a double glass door entrance at the front, big glass windows looking onto a practically deserted parking lot and gas pumps, a hall leading to bathrooms, an office, a supply room or two, and an exit in the back. Two civilians, the bleary eyed carrot-topped teen at the cash register talking away on his cell phone, and a tall, scraggly-haired blond girl about Dawn's age wearing a dark oversized sweatshirt and jeans against the far wall, grabbing things from the freezer. Round mirrors were positioned in every corner to help Buffy have eyes in the back of her head during a fight, but there were also surveillance cameras and monitors.

Better to get this out into the parking lot,away from prying video cameras. Better still to get it into that open field local developers had been promising for years to turn into a strip mall. But she had plenty of weapons on her if the uglies got ugly here in the store, and if she needed to improvise, there were lots of heavy cans that could be used for beaning monsters, and aerosols, lighter fluids, cleaning chemicals, and more -- all the ingredients for a late-night monster meat cookout.

Outfit wise, she was fine for fighting. A beige turtleneck sweater under a short, dark brown leather jacket. Matching spandex-tight boot-cut pants, and shiny high-heeled boots. She could move in these clothes like they were a second skin.

She tensed, waiting for the closest creature to make a move -- then noticed the big sack of cat food Tentacle Guy was carrying. The cutest little meow came from one of his deep pockets, and a furry little head with two bright inquisitive eyes popped up.

I tought I taw a putty-tat!

Running her hand over her forehead, Buffy wondered if the long nights were finally getting to her. Still, the most threatening thing this guy had done so far was exist, and she couldn't go after him for that.

A tentacle reached out and stroked the head of the brown and orange furred kitten.

"Good Pumpkin," a deep, throaty voice rumbled. "Nice-nice."

The kitten purred and hummed as the tentacle stroked her silky head. Sounding just like a tiny motor turning over, she contentedly slid down into the pocket.Well, this is new. Tentacle Guy is a member of Pet-Loving Fiends. Maybe this was going to work out after all....

Tentacle Guy slapped the bag of cat food onto the counter while his buddies congregated near the door. They were all hooded, but, considering the way it had been cold and raining and everything, Buffy hadn't made anything of that. Now she glanced in their direction, scanning the odd shapes inside the hoods where human features would have been -- if these guys had been human.

Carrot-top didn't look up into the face of his customer. He was still all gabby with his cell phone. "Can't wait to get off tonight, gonna quit this job, get out of this town, finally be free for once in my life. Hold on, I got a customer...."

He set the phone down, scanned the bag, and said, "Nine fifty-three with tax. Do you need a bag?"

"No bag," Tentacle Guy said. "Thank you."

Okay,Buffy thought.Monsters with manners, too.Maybe they weren't bad. Just big, scary looking, and misunderstood...like Shrek or something.

Tentacle Guy slapped three goo-encrusted coins on the counter. The coins were charred black with gold and crimson specks, and they had small holes in them.

"Keep change," Tentacle Guy said.

"Gah -- yuck!" Carrot-top said as his fingers touched the coins.

Buffy silently seconded that. These guys always slimed things, sometimes just to show off that theycould.

Don't look up, Carrot-top,Buffy thought.Don't look up.

He didn't. Instead, Carrot-top wiped the coins off with the tail of his red-checked shirt and examined them. "What is this, like Canadian or something? My boss always gets on me when I take Canadian coins. Sorry, got anything else?"

"But this currency bears the sacred blessing of Yiknakt," Tentacle Guy said, sounding a little testy. "It is more than sufficient at the current exchange rate. And the blessing it bears will bring you good fortune."

"Tic Tacs always help, whatever. I don't care if -- "

"Yiknakt, the supreme one who sent us on our sacred journey," Tentacle Guy said. His coat was fluttering now. The kitten stuck her head out, said, "Meep!" and leaped to the floor.

"Right on, dude, like I said, Tic Tacs rule, but I still can't take Canadian coinage, sorry."

"Yiknakt!Not..." Trembling in rage, Tentacle Guy threw back the folds of his dark leather coat, exposing a yawning mouth filled with jagged teeth where his stomach should have been, and streaming tentacles. A horrible stench rose in the air as the mouth opened even wider. "I will feast on the flesh of the unbeliever!"

The other guys in the trench-coat brigade slithered forward. "Don't do it, Fred!"

"Not in front of the kitty!"

Buffy shoved a ten spot across the counter. "Look, guys, the Taste of Sunnydale Sidewalk Fest doesn't start for two weeks, so this one's on me."

Tentacle Guy looked at her. His eyes were wide black saucers stuffed in a face that looked like a bubbling all-meat pizza with all the toppings and some writhing celophods for good measure.

"You propose an exchange?" Tentacle Guy said. "My currency for yours?"

"Hey, I'm all for this Yiknakt guy," Buffy said. "Sounds like an okay guy to me. Yay, Yiknakt, go team go!"

"Are you mocking me?"

"Honestly? Yes. But not Yiknakt. I could use some good luck."

Tentacle Guy turned to his pals. They were anxiously nodding, flapping their tentacles,go on, Fred, take the exchange!

Buffy was ready in case he didn't. Her short leather jacket was unzipped, the better to give her access to the handheld double-ax tucked into the back of her waistband. She held her hands behind her, ready to grab and free the ax, her shoulders swaying innocently, eyes wide...

She watched Tentacle Guy, his pals, the kitten, the near comatose Carrot-top, whostillhadn't looked up, and the teenage girl who was flattened up against the freezer door, staring this way in shock.

Buffy noticed the video cameras again.

Have to come back and do something about those tapes later.

She wanted to nod toward the teenage girl to try to make it out the back, but she was worried about making any sudden movements.

Tentacle Guy wasn't so worried. He snatched the coins from Carrot-top and slapped them back onto the counter, leaving fresh slime on them. Then he shoved Buffy's ten toward the disrespectful register guy.

Buffy wondered absently if this one would last. Convenience store clerks who worked the night shift in Sunnydale seemed to have a life expectancy slightly less than that of a Spinal Tap drummer. Only without the explosion thing.

Sometimes.

There was a ring, the sound of a drawer opening, and soon some change was slapped down. The cat-food bag was shoved toward Tentacle Guy. All without looking up.

"Next?"

Tentacle Guy crouched and picked up his kitten. She purred. He nodded toward Carrot-top, the chasm of his chest only slightly open now, his tentacles curling hungrily. "He still insulted Yiknakt."

"He's a tool," Buffy said. "You really think Yiknakt would want one of his flock wasting his time on someone like that? Besides, think of the kitty. We could be talking long-term emotional scarring. Kitty-cats who witness violence, you know, it has an impact."

"But she already kills small birds and brings me offerings."

"That's diff -- "

"Kitty?" Carrot-top's brow furrowed as he cut Buffy off. "You guys brought a pet in here?" He stood up and pointed at a sign in the window. "No pets allowed. Can't you guys -- "

Then he saw them. Finally. He screamed, stumbled back, and snatched up a baseball bat from behind the counter.

"Now he thinks to threaten me?" Tentacle Guy hollered. "For this he will be mine!"

Tentacle Guy allowed Pumpkin, his kitten, to hop from his gray-speckled tentacles. The mouth in his chest opened wide, and a cacophony erupted as tentacles above and below the mouth reached out and wriggled toward their prey.

One of the lightning-quick tentacles was close enough to encircle Carrot-top's neck when a shiny silver flash severed it. Tentacle Guy screamed.

Buffy was up on the counter, slime-covered ax in hand."Not food.Dork, yes, food, no. How many times do I have to tell you guys?"

Tentacle Guy backed away, withdrawing his horribly writhing celophods.

Buffy shifted her gaze to Carrot-top. He made high, short sharp noises as he hyperventilated. He looked like he needed direction.

"You really are a tool, aren't you?Run..."

Dropping the bat, he nodded happily -- and bolted. He was out the rear exit in moments.

All-rightee,Buffy thought as she hopped down from the counter. One civilian cleared, no more incoming, just the teenage girl to worry about.

Tentacle Guy sniffed the air. "It is a Slayer!"

His pals shuddered. "A Chosen One!"

"I told you we should have taken the next exit."

Buffy let the ax dangle at her side. She made sure the ichor didn't get on her nice new boots. "Okay, everyone, let's just chill -- "

She heard a shrieking and saw that the chopped-off tentacle was wiggling, spitting, and screaming on its own. Wonderful.

Buffy pointed. "See that thing behind you? Newfangled invention. They call it a door. You open it, you step through, you're somewhere else. No need to say it, I know. Radical.Crazy.Would anyone really use such a thing? I don't know. But there it is. Anyway, don't let it hit you on the butt -- or whatever -- on the way out."

All four trench-coat-wearing monsters clustered by the door, keeping their wide black eyes on the Slayer.

Buffy shook her head. "You see, you'reclosertoit --the door, that is -- than you are tome.Walk away. No one else has to get hurt."

"She will hunt us," Tentacle Guy said, trembling with rage. "Find us wherever we go. And slay us."

Buffy had to admit it. She was perturbed. "What's with the hunting stuff? Just 'cause I'm out every night patrolling, stalking, looking for...okay, right. Hunting. Look, I don't suppose this Yiknakt quest ends with my world being threatened, or mass chaos, dogs and cats living together, anything apocalyptic like that?"

"The sacred one is being held hostage. To secure his freedom, we must complete the Babe Ruth baseball card collection of his sworn enemy, Flay the Most Ghastly."

"We are in the blessed minivan, on a quest with many of his greatest cards to trade at the great festival of cards and games in San Diego!"

"Well, there you go!" Buffy said. "What you're up to is no big. No need for slayage on my part. Just, maybe, trade in a few of those cards for local currency. Make transactions easier."

"A good idea," Tentacle Guy said thoughtfully. One of his tentacles reached toward his kitten, who was chasing a small bug across the floor.

"Just collect up the putty-tat and mosey on. Get along now, go, go, shoo, scat!"

The monsters didn't move. Buffy checked the position of the remaining civilian. The girl hadn't taken off, either. It was a real brain trust in here tonight.

Harsh, harsh, harsh,she told herself.How did you react when you were her age and you saw your first monster?

Buffy raised the ax and sighed. "You're not making with the moseying. Um -- now that I think about it -- what exactlywillYiknakt do once he's free?"

"Set fire to a thousand worlds so that his anger can be seen across the multiverse!"

Buffy sighed and eased herself into a fighting stance. "I don't suppose you could talk him into just having a really big hissy fit?"

"She seeks to lure us into a false sense of security, then attack!" Tentacle Guy hollered as he raced toward Buffy.

His friends joined the assault. "For the honor of Yiknakt!"

"Yes, for Yiknakt!"

Then they were on her. The group attacked as one, attempting to surround her, close off any avenue of escape. Burying her ax in the space between shoulder and neck of the closest monster, Buffy used the momentum of the forward two-handed swing and the purchase her ax had gained to flip herself up and over her attackers. She hauled the ax free as the soles of her boots brushed the ceiling and angled her swiftly descending form so she'd land in the relative safety of the next aisle over. She touched down gracefully, weapon dripping ichor.

Have to watch for slippery spots,she cautioned herself.

Buffy was about to check the curved mirrors for the positions of her attackers when a bellow of rage and a sudden explosion of canned goods told her all she needed to know. The lithe Slayer flattened, narrowly escaping some heavy soup cans. She rolled from her belly to her side, quickly taking in the gaping hole that had been a wall of shelves and products separating her from her attackers. A mass of tentacles sprang at her from the gap as she completed her motion, got on her back, and vaulted upward. As her feet hit the ground and she found her center of gravity, Buffy transferred the ax to her left hand and carved a wide swatch through the air.

Whooosh! And eight more spitting tentacles were severed.

Too bad about that ninth one. It whipped around her ankle, the tip separating into five smaller but very strong snakelike "fingers," and yanked her from her feet. She landed hard, her head smacking a half-gallon can of tomato soup, and her grip loosened on the ax just enough that it slipped from her fingers as the tentacle hauled her through the gap.

Buffy saw a cavern lined with sharp, bladelike teeth looming ahead and reached for something -- anything -- she could use as a weapon.

Heavy soup cans were in both of her hands as she was dragged lightning quick through the opening and toward the hungry mouth in one of the monster's stomachs. She threw both cans at the hole, smashing teeth and causing the monster who'd snatched her to lose his hold and stumble back, the jaws in his belly closed on the leaking soup cans. He looked like he was choking, or needed the Heimlich or something.

Two more squidheads advanced on her from either side of their choking friend, whipping their tentacles around Buffy's arms and hauling her to her feet. Only -- she didn't oblige by getting to her feet. Instead, she kicked out, nailing each of the squids clean in the skulls with the heels of her boots. They staggered back, releasing their holds, and Buffy turned and dove through the hole, into the aisle where her ax waited. She tucked and rolled, springing to her feet, almost skidding on a slippery spot.

Her ax was there.

Tentacle Guy had it.

Buffy sidestepped the angry sweep of the blade and performed a backflip and triple somersault to give herself some fighting space. There wasn't much space, though, not in this cramped battlefield. A wall of magazines was at her back, a newspaper stand two feet to her right, then front doors right after that. Tentacle Guy was hollering something that sounded obscene but was probably a prayer in his native language as he barreled headlong at her, ax raised.

Okay, let's take this outside,she thought. But a stolen glance at the curved mirror above told her that wasn't going to happen. The other three tentacle dudes were no longer gathered near the register. Instead, they were surging toward the straw-haired girl near the freezer doors.

Why didn't she clear out? Damn!

Buffy heard a meow and saw the cat now in the gangly girl's arms.

Tentacle Guy, the original, the one and only, was four feet from her, now making ascrooeeeooouuughthat sounded like that Waterboy about to attack, when Buffy leaped high and to her left. He swept past her and smashed into the magazine racks as she felt her head smack one of the cork panels of the ceiling and saw the top of some shelving come into view. Buffy kicked away the array of neatly arranged first-aid items with one foot and landed on the other. Keeping her head low to keep from smacking the ceiling lights, Buffy took in the clutter of the long rectangular island ahead. Running fast, she aimed her feet at spaces between boxes of cookies, canisters of peanuts, and sixty-four ounce bottles of Coke and Pepsi.

"Drop the cat!" Buffy yelled, closing on the girl.

"Trying!" the teenager shot back. But now Buffy could see the problem. The cat's claws were hooked on the girl's sweatshirt. The teen was trying to pull the kitten loose, but the screeching animal wasn't cooperating.

A roar came from behind Buffy. Tentacle Guy was after her again. And his buds were closing on the teenager.

Sailing forward atop the aisle, Buffy drop-kicked a heavy bottle of kitchen cleaner at the head of the squid closest to the girl. He grunted and spun around on impact, tripping up the monster behind him.

Buffy was only a few paces away now, but still not close enough. The last member of the trio racing for the teenager was almost on her.

"Give back the sacred pretty-pretty, infidel!" he roared, the tips of his tentacles curling and hardening into razor-sharp claws.

With a grunt, Buffy kicked a six-pack of ginger ale at the monster's head. It missed -- and smashed the glass door next to the teen's head. The girl screamed, and the kitten tore free of her. The squid was right on top of her, tentacles slashing downward. Then --

The teenager screamed as the first of the tentacles ripped across her arm. She thrust her hands before her, as if toshovethe towering squid guy away. Instead, a shrill cry came from the monster, nearly drowning out the sickeningthwockof something bursting straight through its chest and making the back of its long leather coat suddenly jut out unnaturally.

No, two somethings.

Buffy might have thought the thing had wings. She'd seen that before. But she had a clear view of what had actually happened.

The gangly girl had shoved her handsright throughthe squid's chest.

Buffy had kicked these guys there. She knew how tough and strong that part of their bodies were. No teenager with normal strength could do that. Yeah, there was all that kind of stuff about people lifting cars in moments of distress, but that wasn't what was going on. Buffy couldn't explain why sheknewit wasn't that. She just knew. She could feel it.

For a single second, as Buffy leaped toward the girl and the monster, Buffy's gaze locked with that of the teenager, and she knew that somehow, they were alike.

Then it was all happening again. In its wild death throes, the monster's tentacles were coiling, ready to strike, a moment away from tearing the teenager's head from her body. Buffy came crashing down at an angle, putting all her weight on one leg as she wrapped her arm around the monster's neck, hauled it back and away from the teenager -- and again, a horrible sound, the ugly, wet, sickeningslorrrpof the teen's hands and arms sliding free of the dark, spurting, gaping wounds she had created in the monster's chest and her scream, her high, piercing scream of disbelief, of a mind on the verge of shutting down as inhuman blood splashed over her and sprayed across the fractured glass at her back -- and spun the monster around to face the onslaught of Tentacle Guy and his stolen ax. The weapon came down and buried itself in the monster's head.

Tentacle Guy released it at once and jumped back in horror and surprise.

"Phil, no!" Tentacle Guy hollered.

Below, the kitten hissed, startling Tentacle Guy for a second.

"Pumpkin?"

And when he looked back, his friend's body was falling, the ax no longer buried in it. There was a flash of silver catching the glare of cheap fluorescent lighting, and behind it, a sweep of blond human hair and a grim face with sternly set features -- then everything went cold, and darkness descended.

Buffy stood in front of the terrified teenager. The other two squids raced her way, screaming incoherently. Buffy pivoted, delivering a hard side kick to the chest of the closest squid, slamming him against the glass door with a sharpcrack,and swung the ax in a wide arc, cutting off his companion's head. She planted both feet firmly as the last squid came at her, tentacles writhing, bad breath bursting from its gaping dagger-lined mouth. She loosed the ax with an overhead tomahawk throw and heard it connect with a dullthwop.The beast staggered back, and Buffy closed in, easily avoiding its flying tentacles. She grabbed its coat, spun it around, and brought her knee up to the base of what she hoped would be its spine. There was a loud crackling, and the monster fell, motionless, to the floor. Buffy crouched over it, yanking the ax free, and turned to face the teenager.

The girl was still staring at the squid she had run through, and her own ichor-covered hands.

"It's okay," Buffy said softly. "It's all right, it's over now."

Looking her way with frightened gray-green eyes, the teen gazed at Buffy's face, then down at the weapon the Slayer was still carrying. Buffy flashed an awkward smile and slipped the weapon behind her back. Oops. Not the most nonthreatening way to approach someone.

The kitty-cat was swerving around the remains of its former owner. With an aloof air, the kitten sauntered away toward the rear exit Carrot-top had taken.

"Sorry about all that," Buffy said. "There was supposed to be this part where I held off the bad guys and you ran like hell."

The girl didn't move. She just stood there. Staring.

"I would have been like,now,"Buffy continued. "Shoo. Shoo! Mush. Scat. Whatever."

The kid was a statue. Her eyes were wide, fixed on the corpse.

"Or -- you could have done that all on your own," Buffy suggested, inching closer to the girl and resting the ax on a shelf beside some ichor-splattered bags of chips. "You know, been a self-starter, said, hey, danger over there, safe here, look, an exit. You didn't do that."

"No," the girl said absently.

"You didthat,instead," Buffy said as she nodded at the body. "My question, just a little one, don't take me wrong, I'm glad you're not hurt, just -- how'd you do that?"

The girl bolted. She sped down the aisle closest to the wall.

Buffy leaped over the pile of squid bodies and raced along the center aisle to cut her off. "Hey, wait!"

Midway down the center aisle, Buffy saw a slick spot. Dark, slippery monster blood and goo. She leaped over it -- and a glass jar leaped into the air from the far left lane. It smashed on the floor, spilling pickles and greenish yellow liquid everywhere just as Buffy's feet hit the now slick and slippery floor.

"Whoa!" Buffy hollered. Without an ounce of the grace she had displayed in the battle, Buffy slipped and fell, landing hard on her back. Ahead, she caught a blur of motion as the gangly teen in the dark sweatshirt and jeans ran past the magazines at the end of the aisle. Little bells sounded as Buffy got up and carefully made her way to the front exit, where the glass door was now swinging shut.

The teenager ran across the street, narrowly avoiding an oncoming car, and headed into the park. Buffy chased after her. In seconds they were past the playground, across a clearing, and into the woods.

"I just want to talk to you!" Buffy yelled. "I can help! I'm a friend!"

The girl rabbited into the darkness. Buffy chased her through twisting lanes carved between heavy trees. Twice she caught sight of the girl's blond straggly hair. She tried going around clusters of trees, pushing the girl into traps where she had chased monsters, making new paths, doing everything she could think to catch up with the girl and cut off her flight.

She couldn't.

Finally, Buffy scrambled up into the upper reaches of a towering tree to get a higher vantage. Maybe if she saw where the girl was heading....

She saw nothing. It was as if the girl had disappeared.

Buffy was thunderstruck. Her shoulders sagged. She just wanted to help.

Climbing down to the hard earth, Buffy searched a little longer, then went back to the convenience store to begin her clean up on aisleeverywhere.The video tape would have to be wiped, the bodies hauled out and buried, those weird coins collected for Giles to study. Plus, she'd have to do it in the dark, with the door locked, to keep anyone from wandering in and getting an eyeful. Hopefully that wouldn't look suspicious to the police.

Yet all those thoughts were background noise for the Slayer as she entered the convenience store and got to work. Her conscious mind was puzzling out the mystery of the strange girl with super-strength:howshe had managed to get away, and why she was so important.

Buffy felt lost with the girl gone. Like a part of her she'd almost forgotten had briefly shown itself then seen who and what she was now -- and ran like hell.

She couldn't leave things like this.

Shecouldn't.

Buffy took care of the mess without incident, stopping only when she came to the collection of items the girl had dropped during the attack. Among them was a paperback novel, a fantasy adventure with a strong female warrior in armor wielding a sword against a misshapen, monstrous giant while villagers cowered behind the fighter or cheered her on. Nowthatseemed like the life, a little public recognition and thanks for doing well at a risky job. The closest Buffy had gotten was her little umbrella at Sunnydale High School on Prom Night.

Sighing, she went patrolling the rest of the night.

It wasn't until an hour later that she remembered the milk and cereal.

Hmmpph. All that and she hadn't even gotten her Twinkie.

™ and © 2002 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation.

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Excerpted from Sweet Sixteen by Scott Ciencin
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.