Finders Creepers

  For Maximus. A loyal companion.

  A fighter until the end. And greatly missed.

  —Derek

  For Bradley and Kaeli. Stay inspired and seek adventure every day.

  —Dustin

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter Z

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About the Authors

  Copyright

  In the middle of the city, in the middle of their neighborhood, was a house that everyone knew.

  Their father was a deep-sea explorer. Their mother, a relic hunter and professor. And the children were twin siblings who followed in the family business of searching for things.

  This was the home of the family Fetch.

  At the edge of the lawn stood a metal mailbox, shaped in the form of a dog. With one quick twist of its metal tail, it released its mouth hinge, allowing the stack of letters to be retrieved by a girl, who ran up the sidewalk to burst through the front door.

  “Mail call!” Esmeralda yelled, chucking the letters onto the kitchen table.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got,” answered Atticus, entering the room to greet his sister.

  The Fetch Twins were of normal size and stature for children their age. Esmeralda was half a head taller and seventy-four seconds older than her shorter and younger brother. Both had dark hair. Both a thin frame. While Atticus was the more book smart of the two, Esmeralda was the more adventurous, with bruised knees and elbows to prove it.

  But they both had one thing in common: a desire to find missing pets.

  Atticus flipped through the stack of mail, carefully separating it into piles, before arriving at the most important piece. “Bills, advertisements, and a card.”

  “From who?” asked Esmeralda, already eating a banana she took from the fridge.

  “Jack Webster. Thanking us for finding his dog, Disco.”

  “Pretty clever of you adjusting the fire sirens to amplify a melody while driving around town. That dog is drawn to music,” smirked Esmeralda. “How did you get the fire department to agree to that?”

  “Well, they did owe us a favor for finding their firehouse dog, Spot, the week before,” replied Atticus.

  Esmeralda quietly walked over and stood behind her brother. Only after reading through the rest of the mail did he realize she was there, waiting to be noticed.

  “Okay, what is it? Is there something else?” asked Atticus, almost afraid to find out. “And please don’t muss up my hair.”

  “Only this,” said Esmeralda, dangling a piece of paper a few inches in front of her brother’s face.

  “A lost pet flyer? Don’t we have enough personal requests to go through? And homework?” reminded Atticus.

  “We can always do that when we get back. That’s why it’s called homework,” she winked. “Besides, there were lots of other missing flyers, but I only took this one. You might say it jumped out at me.”

  Not acknowledging her intended joke, Atticus got up from the table and walked down into the den as Esmeralda followed. This was their office. Their base of operations. Along the staircase wall were certificates of appreciation, a key to the city, a thank-you letter from the mayor, and various articles to showcase their prosperous operation of finding lost pets. And the rest of the den was stocked with all the tools for their success. A full set of animal encyclopedias, stacks of books checked out from the library, blueprints and maps of the city, and a card catalog of all their past clients. Also flashlights and hiking equipment, which sometimes were necessary in their line of work.

  “Um, I don’t think we’re going to find it in here, Atty,” said Esmeralda.

  “No. But we can do a little preparation before we go,” he advised.

  “Not everything can be found in a book,” stamped Esmeralda.

  “And not everything can be found out there without it,” answered Atticus.

  With her arms folded, Esmeralda scuffed her shoe along the floor in an annoying fashion. It did not go unnoticed.

  After flipping open some books and unrolling some papers, and feeling angry eyes on him, Atticus looked over at his sister and let out a sigh. “Don’t worry, Es, I’ll make it fast. Then we can get our hands dirty.”

  “My hands, little brother. I don’t want you to fall and break that big ol’ brain of yours,” she smiled. And he smiled back.

  Now satisfied, Esmeralda walked around the den. There was a corkboard pinned with clients whose pets they were currently working to find. Photos of various animal footprints to study. Even a funny little cat statue given to them as a gift that now acted as a paperweight, complete with a paw that moved up and down.

  Stopping in front of a wall, Esmeralda looked up at a framed photo of a small white schnauzer dog. Its face was so furry that it hid its eyes and gave it a funny looking mustache. Not realizing it, she clutched the locket around her neck. The photo inside it matched the one on the wall.

  Standing next to her, Atticus tried to assure her, “You know, he’s probably okay. Lost dogs in this town … Well, any dogs in this town … seem to do okay. He’s probably out there eating and playing and enjoying his life. Even if we haven’t been able to find him yet.”

  “That doesn’t make it any easier. No matter how many years he’s been gone,” she said bluntly.

  Atticus placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “And it’s why we do the best we can to help others find their lost pets. So they don’t have to experience what we have.”

  She nodded. Then spoke. “Can I help you look through some of these books?”

  “I’d rather you help me check out the map,” he said. “It will give us an idea where we can look.”

  He unrolled a giant map that covered their entire work desk and hung over to the floor. A map of Thorns Hollow. Every landmark, every area of interest. And every possible place to find a missing animal.

  The sun was just starting to rise the next morning, but Atticus was already awake. As he walked down the hallway from his bedroom to the kitchen, he passed by his sister’s room. Esmeralda, who seemed to take on the qualities of a bat or a sloth, was sleeping sideways across her bed. Her legs rested against the wall, pointed straight up. And the upper half of her body hung over the edge of her bed, almost upside down. Since this was nothing new, it didn’t even faze her brother as he shuffled past her open door.

  The Fetch family home remained quiet. Both parents were away at their jobs. Which left the twins with the responsibility to wake up, eat breakfast, and get to school on their own. It was a responsibility that seemed to come naturally to Atticus. Early to bed, early to rise. But he would have to help his sister each morning to make sure she didn’t hibernate the day away. This was something he found humorous, since she always reminded him that she was born first while he “slept in.” But now she made up for it by having her younger brother as her personal alarm clock.

  Being up this early had its advantages though. It meant he got to see Thorns Hollow in the new light of morning each day. Putting on his sweatpants and tennis shoes, and with his house key tied around his neck, Atticus began his morning routine: a walk into town, stopping at the donut shop, and during his walk back usually finding any stray pets that got out that night.

  There weren’t that many people up at this early hour. Sure, there was Eddie from a few blocks over, silently riding his bike in the dar
k and delivering the Hollow Herald newspaper throughout the neighborhood. He didn’t have the best throwing arm, so most papers got scattered across lawns, into trash cans, and onto roofs. But he did end up always making sure it arrived safely in the jaws of the Fetch mailbox, maybe due to the fact that Esmeralda located his missing hamster that had gotten caught in a storm drain. Atticus could also count on seeing the town sheriff in his usual favorite seat at the donut shop each morning, with a cup of joe in one hand and a half-eaten sprinkled cake donut in the other. And depending on the day, Atticus might even see Mort driving the garbage truck across town—usually with a parade of dogs following it.

  After finishing his maple bar, and with the sun starting to peek over the top of the city skyline, Atticus began the walk back to his house. While the fresh air helped wake him up, and the sugar sweetness of the donuts was an added treat, it wasn’t the only reason for him to follow this routine each morning. It also gave him a chance to search the city for the only missing member of the Fetch family.

  Dunnsworth was given to the Fetch twins as a fifth birthday present. At first, this white schnauzer was almost larger than the twins, and the three were nearly inseparable. Dunny followed them on fort adventures in the woods, walks through the city, and to bed at night, acting as a comfortable furry pillow as he curled up with them.

  But then he was gone.

  He wasn’t the type to wander off. He never went outside without them. Always preferred the comforts of home, including exclusive rights to table scraps and somewhat limited fridge privileges. They didn’t even have a doggie door installed at their house. Dunny would just patiently wait by the door whenever he needed to go out. And he was always fiercely protective of his family in all other regards, as his gruff voice would suggest. So it came as a shock when he went missing.

  Flyers were posted.

  A search throughout the city was conducted.

  But days and weeks and months went by. And the family had to come to the conclusion that Dunny wouldn’t be coming back. The only ones who truly couldn’t accept that were the twins.

  Dunnsworth was the sole reason the twins got into the pet relocation business. Not just to find him. But to help others find their own lost pets. And with a 99 percent success rate, they became the first call for many distraught families in Thorns Hollow. But they still clung to the hope they could adjust that number up to 100 percent by finding Dunny.

  The twins decided to take shifts. Esmeralda, the night owl, would devote time in the evenings to search for Dunny. Atticus would take the mornings. So each time after charging up with a donut and chocolate milk, he would spend his morning walking home on a different path. A different sidewalk or different stroll through the city. Hoping to find the one spot he might’ve missed in order to find Dunny.

  On this morning, he came up empty. But that didn’t make the trip any less successful.

  Atticus almost tripped over a small gray mound of fluff while exiting the donut shop. It mewed from below, rubbing against his feet, causing him to sidestep and fall to the ground. It’s not often when a lost pet found him rather than the other way around. So the morning was off to a great start.

  “Hi! Almost didn’t notice you there. Let’s see who you are,” said Atticus as he found the kitten’s collar. A shiny metal tag hung from it, which he read aloud.

  “Puddles the Second,” he announced, locating the twin Roman numerals at the end of the kitten’s name tag. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Puddles the First, would you?”

  The kitten stared at him innocently before sneezing repeatedly.

  “If so, then I know where you belong.”

  The first Puddles belonged to Mister Ralph. That wasn’t his last name, but it’s what all the kids called him anyways. He was a retired milkman who spent his later years fishing every chance he got and sitting on the rocking chair on his front porch. With the skies clear and crisp, there was a good chance he’d be at the pier this morning.

  It was slightly off his regular path, but Atticus felt it worth the trip to reunite a lost friend.

  As the salt air filled his lungs, the seagulls welcomed them, circling in the air and squawking. Puddles (the Second) perched on Atticus’s shoulder. The kitten preferred not to be carried so he could enjoy the view. Waving to a few early risers hauling crab cages from the ocean, Atticus noticed a frail man seated at the far end of the pier. Wearing a long coat and floppy hat, the unshaven man turned as they approached. The creaky wooden boards of the pier announced their arrival.

  “Hello, Mister Ralph. I think I have someone you lost.”

  “Puddles?!” exclaimed Mister Ralph. “Now where did you run off to?”

  “Outside the donut shop,” answered Atticus. The kitten carefully hopped off his shoulder and into the lap of his owner.

  “Just because I haven’t caught a bite don’t mean you can just wander off to find your own,” scolded Mister Ralph. “You just gotta have faith. We’ll catch something yet, Puddles. And I promise you a full belly.”

  Atticus was ready to turn to leave, but it was obvious Mister Ralph enjoyed Atticus’s company.

  “How’s your father been?” asked Mister Ralph.

  “Pretty good. He’s at work out there,” answered Atticus, wistfully looking out past the sea waves.

  “I’ll bet he catches more than I do,” chuckled Mister Ralph as his smile revealed a few missing teeth.

  “You’re probably right,” replied Atticus. “I’m afraid I can’t really stay long though. It’s a school day. And I still have to go wake up my sister.”

  Mister Ralph turned his attention back to his fishing pole that hung over the pier. “Say hi to Esmeralda for me. And thanks for finding this little scamp,” said Mister Ralph as he petted Puddles on his head.

  Atticus waved goodbye. And before he arrived back home, Puddles already had a full belly.

  Nestled along the edge of the surrounding forest was the school the Fetch twins attended, Thorns Academy, advertised as “an education amongst the pines.” While Atticus enjoyed his time spent learning with his fellow students, Esmeralda always seemed more restless and distracted. Having nature just outside the windows seemed very cruel, when being stuck inside a stuffy classroom. She’d rather be outside running and climbing than chained to a desk with her nose in a book.

  Esmeralda had a way of rotating through teachers like musical chairs. And all of them with funny names.

  There was Missus Musslemann, a stocky lady who seemed to inhabit her name by always flexing her huge arms to make the students laugh. She’d challenge the kids to grab on to each arm as she’d lift them off the ground like weights.

  Mister Subbs was a tall man with a long neck and bristly mustache. He always found himself at odds with his class, constantly having to explain he was their teacher and not a substitute. And every time he defended that accusation, his face would get flush red. Of course, it didn’t help when the students would respond by yelling “Red Alert” each time, as if he were a submersible ready to dive into the ocean.

  There was Mister Wright, who always found that every student in class was wrong. Seriously. The best grade anyone could get was a B. There were no As in his class. He felt that withholding perfection made everyone work harder. But most think it was just an excuse to yell at the students all the time: “WRONNNG!”

  Missus Lipshutz liked a quiet classroom. Secretly passing notes became the only means of communication. It meant everyone was reading, studying, not talking, and definitely not asking her questions. It also meant that she could spend the day ignoring everyone if should could manage that. Of course she would normally be found seated at the back of the teachers’ lounge by herself, even away from her fellow educators.

  Mister Payne was the physical education teacher. And his wife, Mrs. Payne, was the school nurse. And most of the time, you’d start with one and then see the other after a sprained ankle or a bloody nose.

  Mister Crump actually seemed happier than his n
ame implied. Always polite with his students. Always joking. Always giving high fives. As long as he had his morning cup of coffee. But if he didn’t … then look out.

  For Atticus, his teacher was Miss Grobber. A portly older lady with glasses and her gray hair tied back. No student had ever correctly guessed her age, though most believed she’d been teaching longer than the academy had existed. Some even believed before the forest existed.

  No one had ever seen her outside of school, outside of the classroom, or even outside of sitting at her desk in class. As if she’d always been there and everything was just built up around her. But Atticus knew that wasn’t the case.

  He once rescued her scared cat from the top of a gnarly eucalyptus tree with some help. Atticus located it, while Esmeralda did the climbing and recovery. And when they brought it back to her house, she thanked them and invited both inside for some lemon squares. As they ate, she turned on her rusted metal phonograph and began to dance. It’s the only time any student has ever seen her “out in the wild.” And no one would believe it if he told them.

  The backpack that Atticus wore to school was as big as he was. Aside from his school books, he kept a planner filled with dates and times to keep on schedule. Homework was filed according to importance and when it was due. Meetings were meticulously circled in his planner for new clients to recover their pets. And a front pouch filled with index card notes was for any last-minute student requests to locate a furry loved one.

  Esmeralda of course didn’t have pockets (or want them), since her brother carried everything. Without the need to be weighed down, this also made it easier for her to climb things. She could reach the top of the jungle gym in the sandbox in under five seconds. She was able to recover any lost sporting equipment from off the school roof by scaling the walls without a ladder. And she claims to have swung on the playground swing set so rapidly, that it did three complete loops, followed by a flawless dismount. Of course no one was around to see it happen, not that anyone would question her about it.

  Today Atticus would have to make up a test he missed while not at school. In actuality he had been looking for flushed baby gators in the city sewer, which can be an all-day job, but thankfully he made it home before midnight. The baby reptiles’ chirping gave away their location in the dark, and he was able to recover all five of them, before they could make the sewers their permanent home.