Ohyaho everyone! CJzilla here with another update. In this chapter the Saturday family leave for Lozére, France. But waiting for them are three of their greatest enemies and a beast that wants them dead. Enjoy.

As I tear down this city with my claws, alls CJzilla has to roar is this: R&R! Love... hate... review.

AN: I will do a "dear reviewers" next time.


Chapter 2

Tightrope

Packing to leave to France, Zak walked onto his family's super-zeppelin with a big box in his arms. The eleven-year-old could barely see over the box and he was relying on Fisk, Komodo and Zon who were walking beside him, to guide him.

"Who says a game has to be hand-held to be portable?" Zak snickered to himself, kicking the power cords and game control cords with his shoes as he walked along. "Maybe this is the only American game consol to be in… Where in France are we going again?"

"Yomisur." The seven-foot-tall gorilla cat shrugged as he carried Komodo's pet bed, Zak's suitcases and his toothbrush. Zak hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, here's hoping there are no mimes where we're going." The eleven-year-old voiced, shuttering at the thought of those creepy silent performers.

Just then Zak stepped on a stray cord hanging out of his box. The cord was yanked to the floor, dragging the boy with it. Zak was face down in the box. He groaned as Fisk, Zon and Komodo rushed to him. Fiskerton took the boy by the back of his shirt and gently lifted him to his feet as Komodo growled at the box. Zak held his nose.

"Ow." He murmured eyes watering. "I got an AC plug in the nose!"

Zon then attacked the gaming system inside the box. Zak and Fisk shrieked like little girls and grabbed the seemingly crazy Ornithocheirous. But as soon as they got Zon off of the console, Komodo attacked the box.

"Komodo! NO!" Zak jumped off Zon and onto Komodo. The two-hundred and fifty pound, genetically-altered komodo dragon started eating the cords.

The eleven-year-old grabbed the expensive and valuable entertainment console's cords from Komodo's maw. Despite being as loyal as man's best friend, all allegiance was off when Zak interfered with Komodo's electronic snack. The angry komodo dragon bucked, trying to get the small boy off of his back. Now Zak was riding Komodo through the control room of his family's super-zeppelin.

Fisk was having some problems with Zon. The female Ornithocheirous with teal scales and mane, bright slitted eyes and attitude to boot was not pleased that her beautiful scaly wings were being ruffled by the gorilla-cat. Growling in anger as she was being held against the mammal's furry chest, her wings were immobilized as Fisk's elbows held them to his waist.

"Soisur!" Fisk looked her in the eye, scolding her for trying to attack the box that bit Zak. Zon looked back and snarled again.

Lifting her large bill lined with needle-like teeth, ideal for catching fish, she opened her mouth and gave Fisk's ear a nibble. The gorilla-cat yelped in surprise and dropped her. Zon then picked up where she left off, mauling the box and gaming consol. Fisk jumped on the Ornithocheirous and the two tumbled around the floor.

Just then Doyle came walking in, jetpack and backpack in his hands. Van Rook's former apprentice and Drew's long-lost younger brother blinked at the scene in front of him. There was a box with a drool-soaked, slightly damaged gaming consol in the middle of the hallway as his nephew was bull-riding his genetically-altered komodo dragon. The Fiskerton Phantom was holding the Ornithocheirous's bill shut as he was smacked in the face with her wing.

Chaos... pure undefiled, chaos.

Though this was very entertaining, Doyle raised his fingers to his lips and gave a loud whistle in the air. Komodo, Fisk, Zak and Zon froze, mid-wrestle.

"You know I didn't sign up to be your uncle to be your ringleader, Zak." The red-headed man voiced, holding the box over his head by one of his muscular arms. "In fact, if I am going to be your babysitter, I should get paid at an hourly rate."

Zak pushed Komodo off of him and walked by Fisk, still holding Zon bridal-style. Shuttering in disgust, both cryptids jumped away from each other. Zon turned up her big bill and walked after Zak.

"Womansimurg." Fisk folded his lanky arms and frowned as Komodo walked up to him.

The eleven-year-old walked up to his uncle running his hand over his dishevel black and white hair, power cords in his hand and Zon right behind him.

"Thanks Uncle Doyle." Zak panted holding up the half-chewed electrical cords. Doyle made a motion to put the box down but Zak stopped him. "No! No! No! No! Zon's sensitive to this box!"

He glanced warily over his shoulder at the now placid Ornithocheirous. Doyle quirked a brow.

"A box with a gaming console in it is why you were playing cowboy to that over-grown iguana?" The man asked. The eleven-year-old nodded.

"Yep. And if you know what's good for you, you will not make any sudden moves." Zak gave Doyle the cords. "Just toss the box into the supply closet! Quick! Before Zon goes crackers again!"

Zon yawned, exposing her threatening needle-like teeth. Doyle's eyes widened as he slowly began backing toward the zeppelin's only supply closet. Zon seemed to ignore him, nudging Zak to scratch her head.

Just then Doc and Drew walked into the room, nearly hitting Doyle as he walked backwards toward the door.

"Uh… Doyle. What are you doing?" Drew questioned her younger brother. The red head turned to his sister and gave a light frown.

"No wonder your hair is all white, Drew; you've got some circus to command." With that Doyle walked out of the room, box now in his hands leaving Doc and Drew to scratch their heads. Both parental units walked up to their son and Ornithocheirous.

"Why is your uncle walking on eggshells with a box held above his head?" Doc questioned his eleven-year-old son. Zak sighed and motioned for Zon and Komodo.

"I don't know what triggered it but I tripped into that box and Zon and Komodo bonkers. They nearly mauled our perfect-…" The boy stopped short, trying to weave his words so as not to remind his mother about the gaming system. "Uh… box. Yeah! Box! Fisk loves that box and we had to hold down Komodo and Zon as Uncle Doyle made a break for it!"

Doc and Drew were not buying the story.

"And what was in the box?" Doc questioned.

"Fisk's hopes and dreams." Zak answered, trying to look angelic as Fisk barked an insulted growl.

Drew smiled.

"Then we don't want Zon or Komodo tearing up his dreams now do we." She walked over to the intercom and pressed the button. "Doyle. Will you please take that box and gaming system back down to the house. Zak and Fiskerton are grounded."

Zak dramatically moaned and fell to his knees like Drew had just destroyed his world. Fisk groaned and clapped his hands over his eyes, mourning the loss of their gaming privileges. Doc looked at Drew.

"Since when were Zak and Fisk grounded?" He questioned. Drew rolled her eyes at her overly-dramatic son and Fiskerton Phantom.

"Since Fisk cheated and he and Zak had a fight." The woman returned walking past her crying son and bewildered Zon. The eleven-year-old looked up at his mother and father.

"You HATE me!" Zak cried dramatically, flopping on his back and sobbed. "I risked potential mutilation by Komodo to save it! And yet you take it away!"

Doc and Drew took their seats as they rolled their eyes.

"Zak." Doc turned in his chair to look his boy in the eye. He held his fore and thumb an inch apart. "You are this close to spending this mission inside the zeppelin."

The eleven-year-old stopped his fake crying and pursed his lips in defeat. He lie there on the floor for a second as Zon, Komodo and Fisk gathered around and looked down at him.

"We are going to be SO bored!" Zak looked at Fisk. The gorilla-cat nodded as Zon turned up her snout at him and Komodo waddled away, looking for something to eat.

Fisk helped his human "brother" to his feet and strapped into their chairs.

Doyle ran into the room, vaulted over the railing, up the staircase and to the main lookout. Doc looked up at his brother-in-law.

"Sorry, Doyle. We don't have any extra seats for you." The man with the scar stated, a faint smile on his face. Doyle just gave a thumbs-up.

"Don't worry about me, Doc. Besides, how badly can you take off in this floating pillow?" The red head cracked off, savoring the look of irritation on Doc's face. Sighing, the man initiated the take-off sequence.

It was no secret that Doc still didn't trust Doyle. He scrutinized every little detail of the younger man's habits in order to pinpoint any treachery. Doc still believed that the cocky red head still worked for Van Rook and V. V. Argost. Until he proved to himself that Doyle was true-blue, the super genius father would still be on the lookout for his family.

"Everyone buckled in?" Doc passed his eyes back at Zak, Fisk, Zon and Komodo. Komodo and Zon were quietly sitting to the side, bracing themselves for the slight jolt to come.

"You got it pop!" Zak waved from his chair and console.

"Got it!" Fisk garbled, giving a double thumbs-up.

"Nope!" Doyle called down. Doc ignored his brother-in-law's comment as he looked to his wife.

"Drew, please initiate the horizontal thrusts." He voiced. Drew's hands went to her control counter and ran her fingers along six blinking lights.

Drew flicked a switch with her finger-tip and the roar of the thrusters was felt throughout the zeppelin.

"Horizontal thrusts activated." She returned giving her husband a firm nod.

"Engaging automatic launch." Doc pressed a button.

The ship moved with its automatic pilot and began its reposition for air-travel. With little more than a slight jerk, the zeppelin was airborne and flying over the cliffs that lined the seashore. The cryptids, Zak and Drew began moving about now that they were safely in the air. Doc looked back at Doyle with a smug grin.

"How's that for a floating pillow take off?" If Doc was any less mature, he probably would have stuck out his tongue. Doyle shrugged.

"Fine. But Van Rook's take offs were more…" Doyle made a smooth gesture with his hand. "Whoosh."

That deliberate assault on Doc's composure sent a twitch to his silver eye. The red head hit a soft spot by bringing up Doc's rivalry with Van Rook since they were both super genius inventors and cryptozoologists, even sharing ties to the same woman. Doyle knew little about his master mercenary's background, but he did know that Drew was apart of Van Rook's past at some point.

Doyle held in a big laugh as he saw his brother-in-law get steamed. Drew cleared her throat, cutting through the subject.

"Doyle, why don't you give me a hand with the weaponry and containment unit we will use against the Beast of Gévaudan?" The woman stated, motioning for her brother to follow as she walked toward the door. Zak and Fisk, who were watching Doc and Doyle's interchange snapped back to reality.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The eleven-year-old jumped out of his seat and ran to his mom. "We're gonna capture this beastie?"

Drew looked to her son with calm, dark eyes.

"Of course. The Best of Gévaudan is a very troublesome cryptid. It's going to be safer for people that it be caged." She answered. Zak looked floored.

"We gonna keep it as a pet?!" He hopped up and down in excitement. To his surprise, he got a swat to the back of the head from Fisk.

The gorilla-cat glared at his younger "brother".

"No! Me, Zon, Komur!" He garbled, pointing to himself, Zon and Komodo. Gesturing wildly, the Fiskerton Phantom continued. "Yurol fissst!"

"Fisk's right, Zak." Drew stated as her son rubbed the spot on his head where he was hit. "The Beast of Gévaudan is no cryptid you'd like roaming our home. This creature would sooner kill and partially eat you than play ball like Fisk or Komodo."

Zak rolled his eyes.

"Then are we gonna send it somewhere? Like maybe to Dr. Henry Cheveyo or Dr. Miranda Grey or even Cheechoo?" The eleven-year-old cocked his head before he smiled. "If we could keep it here and you and dad study it, that would be awesome!"

"Take it from your mother, Zak." Doyle walked down the stairs to his sister, nephew and cryptids. "This Gévaudan Beast is better off dead."

The boy gasped and looked at his mother. Drew's face looked grim.

"What?! We've never believed in… destroying a cryptid!" Zak threw his arms in the air. He looked to his uncle; he shared the same look on his mother's face.

"Zak. We really have no choice in this." Doc spoke up, activating the autopilot, unbuckling his seatbelt and walking over to his family. "The Beast of Gévaudan is a man-eater and man-slaughterer. Something this dangerous, regardless if it is a cryptid, must be destroyed."

Zak's brain was searching for answers.

"Well-! Just let me use my powers on it! Maybe there's a reason it enjoys…" The eleven-year-old shuttered. "The taste of human flesh."

Drew folded her arms.

"You are not allowed within fifty yards of this cryptid! It's FAR too dangerous for my babies to get too close!" The woman used a firm, resolute tone. "Am I clear?!"

Fisk immediately nodded as Zak hesitated.

"Zak!" Both Doc and Drew barked. The eleven-year-old didn't nod.

"But I can't use my powers fifty yards away!" The boy returned. His parents, uncle and best friend folded their arms at him.

"You can "talk" to it as soon as we get it on the zeppelin, secure it behind five feet of glass and muzzle it." Drew returned. "But as long as we are hunting it down, you are not to get near it! CLEAR?!"

Zak flinched at his mother's tone.

"Yes, ma'am!" The eleven-year-old saluted. Drew, Doc, Doyle and Fisk nodded.

"Good. I don't want my one and only nephew becoming cryptid chow." Doyle voiced, his frown nearly masking his genuine concern for Zak. As the adults and cryptids went walking to the belly of the ship, Zak stood there in a silence.

Destroying a cryptid? Unheard of! There had to be some reason why this creature was killing people. Just like the superheated lizard cryptid that seemingly terrorized a Peruvian town just because it had to shed its itchy and unbearably uncomfortable skin. Maybe the Beast of Gévaudan had a reason for hating humans so badly. There was only one way to find out and that would happen as soon as they landed in France.

When the Saturday family came to Lozére, France, the weather was slightly chilly but bearable with a light jacket. For Zon and Komodo, who were cold-blooded, they weren't looking forward to a cold climate.

Zak, Fisk, Zon and Komodo had their faces pressed against the glass of the zeppelin's windows, checking out the scenery of rural France. The trees were just turning fall colors as the seasons were beginning to change. Hills and pastures were between high mountains filled with thick forests of broad-leafed trees. It was perfect for hiding a monster.

Without much of a fuss the Saturday zeppelin landed in a field straddling a grove of trees that bled into a dense forest. The huge blimp towered over the small farm houses and town nearby. The zeppelin landed with its engines purring to a stop and stabilizer hooks were shot out from cannons into the dirt to keep the blimp from tipping over if a strong wind came.

A walkway from the zeppelin eased to the ground. Doyle, Doc and Drew were the first to walk out of the zeppelin, GPS, tracker tech and weapons in hand. As their devices swept the immediate area, they merely found the life signals of themselves, their cryptids, the farms, farm animals and people inside the town. Local animals such as deer, rabbits, birds and foxes also showed up on radar. Drew sighed in both frustration and relief.

"I don't have a reading on our cryptid monster." The woman voiced, taking her dark eyes from her device and scanning the open field and dense grove of trees. The forest was so dark that Drew felt her spine tingle with fear.

Anything, of any size or ferocity, could hide in there.

"You see how easy the beast could come and go without getting caught?" Doc was the first to step into the tall grass. "We have open fields filled with humans and thick forests closely nearby that it could vanish into."

Doyle walked to his brother-in-law's side.

"Yeah, but we have something that those poor suckers back in 1764 didn't have." The red head's normally cocky face was straight with seriousness. "Full knowledge of what this Gévaudan Beast is and technology. We'll find and bag this cryptid before it strikes again."

Flipping his mask over his face, Doyle activated his jetpack and soared above the treetops, scanning equipment in hand. Doc and Drew watched him go as they walked back up the walkway to their zeppelin.

As the walkway withdrew and the Saturdays disappeared, they had no idea that they were being watched.

From across the small valley Leonidas Van Rook was watching the Saturday zeppelin with a pair of high-powered binoculars. The ruthless, money-hungry cryptozoologist dropped his binoculars and gave a stiff chuckle.

"Always predictable, Saturdays." The man smiled in a thick Russian accent as he placed his binoculars into his pocket pouch. Perched on a rooftop of one of the town's buildings, Van Rook had a clear lookout over the fields, forest, mountains and zeppelin.

Van Rook was too looking for the Beast of Gévaudan. The killer cryptid meant a whole lot to V.V. Argost and the twisted genius promised Van Rook a handsome sum of cash if he found and caught it. Luckily for the mercenary cryptozoologist, the goodie-goodie Saturday team would do most of the work for him. All he had to do was wait for the beast to show up; Van Rook knew such a fantastic monster couldn't resist bait like the Saturday family. They had a small child and a woman; the main victims of the beast.

Just then Van Rook saw his ex-apprentice fly from the zeppelin on the jetpack that HE designed. Clenching his teeth tightly together, Van Rook felt his trigger finger itch. He always knew Doyle was too good at what he did but he never saw the soft spot the young man had for the Saturday's child until it was too late. By the time he realized his apprentice's treachery, he'd already met with Drew Saturday and stole Argot's portion of the Kur Stone. Watching the red head fly across part of the forest, Van Rook swore revenge. He'd take sick delight in yanking his jetpack off of Doyle's shoulders… from two miles above the ground.

Activating his jetpack, Van Rook made a quiet and stealthy retreat to his base camp, not too far from the village and the beast's playground.

A short two-minuet flight at normal speed let Van Rook back to his base, about two miles into the deep French forest of the Margeride Mountains. Dropping out of flight, the mercenary's feet touched the camp ground and he walked to a large, gaudy tent in the center of the area. Sweeping the curtain-door out of his way, Van Rook stepped into a warm, climate controlled tent; fit for a king. Dimly lit, Van Rook stood there as he let his eyes grow adjusted to the poor lighting.

"What is it Van Rook?" An eerie, ghostly voice barked at the mercenary from the center of the room. Van Rook recognized it as his employer's. "You barge in unannounced and interrupted my silence."

Then there was a creepy chuckle.

"I could have been indecent." The voice added. The only thing decent about V. V. Argost was his paycheck.

Van Rook shook the image of an "indecent" Argost out of his mind and looked to his chalk-faced employer.

"The Saturdays have landed, just as you predicted." The merc stated, his thick accent resounding through the once quiet tent. From Van Rook's tone, he was annoyed. "That throws a wrench into your little scheme, doesn't it, Argost?"

V. V. Argost stood from his chair, setting down his cup of tea. The man's face was as white as bleached bones, his smile was as unwelcoming as the grave and his ghostly voice brought his appearance together. Like a coiled snake, Argost's hunched posture made him look as if he was always ready to strike. The man curled his hands under his Megatooth-shark-skin cape, making Van Rook's eyes narrow. Argost hid a wealth of deadly… things inside that cape and the merc never liked to be at the receiving end of a surprise.

"Van Rook. You worry too much." Argost stated, giving a sinister chuckle. "Everything is going according to my plan. The Saturdays are here and they will lure the beast out. In the meantime, you are to do as I have instructed. I want you to fight for the Gévaudan Beast with a passion unlike crazy. If I know anything about those pinheaded Saturdays its if I want it, they want it more."

Van Rook scowled under his mask.

"I still do not approve of your plan, Argost." The merc growled. "I fight to take the beast but I do not capture it. On the contrary, I am to let the Saturdays take it! Why are we even here?!"

Argost chuckled and drifted back to his seat.

"Because the Saturdays do not know what I know about la bête du Gévaudan." He answered. "Let them take it and by the time they realize what it can do, we shall strike."

That posted the obvious question.

"What is so special about some stupid cryptid?" Van Rook folded his arms. V.V. Argost gave the merc a smile of pure evil.

"What normally motivates me, Van Rook?" The pasty-faced villain questioned. Then he slammed a fist on the armrest of his chair. "The ultimate power of the Kur Stone! Le gardien de la pierre secrète et la pierre secrète du gardien. The Beast of Gévaudan is a vital key in translating Kur and I will NOT let this slip through my fingers!"

Van Rook kept his outward composure but he felt shivers ice up his spine at the mention of the Beast of Gévaudan and the cryptid Kur Stone in the same sentence.

"Whatever you chalk-faced madman." The merc turned to the tent's door. "I am still getting paid."

Argost said nothing in return, simply smiling as Van Rook left his tent.

Van Rook shook his head, eyes still turned back as he left. Whatever job he did, the money kept him motivated, but in close proximity to Argost's creepy figure made him want to rent a room in the nearby French village. By that time he nearly smacked into Munya, V.V. Argost's equally creepy manservant.

"Watch it arachnid!" Van Rook barked, sidestepping the bigger, Frankenstein-looking man. The mysterious man had been injected with the DNA of a Papuan Giant Spider and could transform himself into a half-man-half-spider monster with merely a thought.

Van Rook noted the basket of bread and meat in Munya's hands. He probably purchased that from a trip to the small French town. Gruffly walking to his tent, Van Rook went to assemble his weaponry. He was to put on a convincing charade that he wanted the Gévaudan Beast but let the Saturdays take it. That kinda stuff wasn't his style and he only hoped he could pull if off. A win was a win and a loss was a loss, but an intentional loss was so foreign to the seasoned merc. Irritated and creeped out, Van Rook disappeared into his tent.

But even further from the valley, at the top of one of the tallest hills was a pair of red and yellow eyes. The scent of new invaders danced on the wind and reached the animal's nose. What it smelled wet its palate. The smell of men, a woman and child and cryptids made the creature's muscles twitch to run toward the peculiar looking flying contraption. All humans were threats to the animal's powerful secret and invaders must be silenced.

The Beast of Gévaudan bared its long, sharp teeth and let out a deep gnarl. Lifting its nose to the sky, the beast emptied its lungs of air. A menacing howl covered the valley and seeded fear in the people's hearts. Fear… was for prey.


R&R! LONG LIVE ROCK!