Free Nikolas and Company: The Merman and The Moon Forgotten by Kevin McGill Page B

the
sanctuary doors.
    “ They’re dead!” Tim pulled
the locks of his hair. “You just hauled our dead Mom and Dad out of
a funeral service—in front of everyone!”
    “First, they’re not your parents.
Second, they’re not dead.” Grand rolled their dad onto his stomach,
his nose crunching into the blue carpet.
    “Not dead?” Nick looked to
Tim.
    “They should be, grant you that.
Trackers put enough poison in their diet sodas to kill a herd of
gwinters. But these are mimes.” Grand looked at the very confused
boys. “Duplicates, copies. They do appear dead to any modern
physician. Nearly on the brink of it, I would imagine. But these
particular ones happen to be very difficult to kill. I should know.
I bred them that way.”
    “Bred?” Tim mouthed.
    Nick could only stare at
what Grand claimed were copies of his parents. Sure, there were
moments he prayed they were not his parents. Especially when he
invited a bunch of friends over one afternoon to play some holobox,
and there was his mom doing her Kenpo routine to Baby Gangsta’s
platinum soundtrack, A Tale of Two
Cribs. Still, wishing and beholding are two
different things.
    “Daniel?” Tim stood up. “Daniel
Kobayashi?”
    There stood Daniel leaning
on his cane. His hairless, questioning brow said what his mouth
could not, “What the heck is going
on?”
    “What’re you doing here?” said
Nick.
    “It’s your parent’s funeral,” said
Daniel. “Should we not be in attendance?”
    “But they’re not your parents,” said
Nick.
    “Are we not friends, Nick?” said
Daniel.
    “Sure . . .”
    Daniel cleared his throat. “Anyway,
Caroline insisted we attend. Said you two needed the support of
true family during such a loss.”
    “Oh. My. Gawsh!” Brandy stood in the
doorway wearing a black dress, thin black veil, three-inch black
heels, and a matching black purse.
    Haley pushed herself around Brandy
while Xanthus flanked the left. All were dressed uniformly in
black, and all were completely dumb struck by Grand’s body
snatching.
    “Tim, Nick.” Caroline cut through the
growing crowd. She flung herself at Tim and then wrapped her other
arm around Nick. Her hands were rough and smelled of pie
crust.
    “I was so worried.” Caroline stepped
back. “Are you all right?”
    “Yeah,” Nick said.
    “Close the doors,” Grand
growled.
    “That dude just yanked your dead
parents from a funeral,” Xanthus said, wide-eyed, as he watched
Grand push their mom’s nostrils up, pull her lips open, and smell a
handful of hair.
    “What?” Haley said. “Hospital short on
cadavers?”
    Grand twisted to Haley, then
Nick.
    “They’re my friends—” Nick put his
hands up. “—from the refugee camp.”
    “Where’ve you two been?” Haley sided
around Grand.
    “Everywhere,” Tim said.
    “Police couldn’t find you,” said Haley.
“Doing the vanishing act after your parents were poisoned wasn’t a
great idea. They interrogated all of us, even Rocky the She-Bully.
You know she didn’t have nice things to say about you, Nick. Told
them you were a violent psychopath who burned down forests and
punched pretty girls in the mouth.”
    “We didn’t kill them,” said Nick.
“Besides, they’re not dead. Wait. What did you tell
them?”
    “Nothing.” Haley rolled her eyes to
Grand who had his ear to their dad’s palm. “Should we
have?”
    “Seriously,” said Xanthus. “What’s with
William Wallace?”
    “That’s Grand. He’s my grandfather. I
told you all ab—”
    “Nick, Tim.” Grand waved them over. “We
need to store them away. Cannot be lugging them all the way to
Huron. Bring me the pressers.” Grand pointed to the two antique
blowers.
    Screams peeled from the
sanctuary.
    Xanthus, nearest to the sanctuary,
turned and peaked between the foyer doors.
    “Merciful Minerva!” Xanthus turned to
Grand. “Bunch of animals chased the pastor off stage.”
    “Like a bear?” said Brandy.
    “No, it’s, um . . .” Xanthus
fumbled