Officer Dexter Johnson had been a police officer long enough to know that the loudest emergencies weren't always the most dangerous ones.
Sometimes the dangerous ones were quiet.
Sometimes they were a fourteen-year-old sitting on the steps of a police station with tears in his eyes, convinced that the only way to help someone he loved was to make everything worse.
He glanced toward the passenger seat.
Heath Burns sat stiffly, one leg bouncing so hard it made the entire seat vibrate.
His hood was still up.
Not because he was hiding anymore.
Because he didn't know what else to do with himself.
His fingers twisted nervously together.
Every so often, a tiny ember escaped between them before fading almost immediately.
Nothing like before.
The fire wasn't fueled by rage anymore.
Now it was fueled by anxiety.
That, Dexter could work with.
He started the cruiser.
The engine rumbled to life.
The radio immediately crackled.
"Unit Twelve, status update?"
Dexter reached for the microphone.
"Unit Twelve en route to New Salem High."
A brief pause.
"...Copy that."
He clipped the radio back into place.
Silence settled over the car for nearly a minute.
Finally—
"You don't gotta call me 'sir,' you know."
Heath blinked.
"...Huh?"
Dexter kept his eyes on the road.
"You've called me 'sir' about six times."
"I have?"
"You have."
"...Sorry."
"You did it again."
Heath groaned, covering his face.
"Oh my gosh..."
A tiny puff of smoke escaped his sleeve.
Dexter smiled despite himself.
"Relax."
"I'm trying."
"I know."
The words weren't empty.
He meant them.
---
Across town...
Monster High's tunnel system echoed with hurried footsteps.
The old passages had been carved generations earlier, long before either school existed.
Back when monsters hadn't hidden.
Back when humans hadn't known.
The tunnels weren't comfortable.
They weren't supposed to be.
Stone walls pressed close on either side.
Ancient lanterns flickered with green witchfire that had somehow never burned out.
Water dripped steadily from the ceiling.
The air smelled faintly of damp earth and old magic.
Frankie led the way.
"We're making good time."
"Good," Clawdeen answered.
"We're gonna need it."
Behind them, Draculaura floated several inches above the uneven ground rather than risk tripping.
"I still don't understand how everything got so bad so fast."
"Because humans panic," Toralei muttered.
Nobody argued.
Even she sounded more tired than angry.
Ghoulia adjusted her glasses before signing rapidly.
Abbey translated.
"She says Jackie still doesn't have his headphones."
Everyone immediately understood why that mattered.
Frankie frowned.
"...That's bad."
Very bad.
Without them—
Holt couldn't control when music affected him.
Without them—
Jackson couldn't dampen outside sounds.
Without them—
Neither of them could stabilize the transformation.
Nobody said it aloud.
Nobody needed to.
---
Back in the cruiser...
"So..."
Heath stared out the window.
"...Do you think Holt's okay?"
Dexter answered honestly.
"I don't know."
That surprised Heath.
"You don't?"
"I've learned something after twenty-two years."
"What's that?"
"The moment a cop starts pretending he knows everything..."
Dexter changed lanes.
"...is the moment he becomes dangerous."
Heath quietly considered that.
"...Huh."
"I'd rather tell you I don't know than lie."
"...Thanks."
Another silence.
Not uncomfortable.
Just thoughtful.
---
Far beneath the streets...
The tunnels split.
Frankie slowed.
"Left."
"No, right," Deuce said.
Frankie stopped.
"You sure?"
Deuce pointed.
"Smell."
Everyone looked at him.
He shrugged.
"What?"
"Snake senses."
Toralei rolled her eyes.
"...You're impossible."
"But right."
Sure enough—
Ghoulia checked the old tunnel map she'd photographed months earlier.
She signed.
Abbey nodded.
"Deuce correct."
Frankie grinned.
"...Guess we're going right."
---
The cruiser rolled through another intersection.
Heath suddenly leaned forward.
"...Can I ask something?"
Dexter nodded.
"Shoot."
"...Were you scared?"
"When?"
"When monsters became public."
Dexter thought about it.
"...No."
"No?"
"I was worried."
"About monsters?"
"No."
He glanced briefly toward Heath.
"About people."
Heath frowned.
"...What's the difference?"
"A monster can make a choice."
Dexter's voice remained calm.
"A crowd usually doesn't."
Heath looked away.
"...Yeah."
He'd seen enough over the last day to understand exactly what that meant.
---
The tunnels grew brighter.
Natural light filtered through cracks in the stone ceiling.
They were getting close.
Very close.
Clawdeen glanced upward.
"...We're almost there."
Frankie nodded.
"Everybody remember—"
"No fighting unless we have to," Draculaura finished.
"Find Heath."
"Find Jackie."
"Find Holt."
"And don't split up."
Toralei folded her arms.
"...Still think splitting up would've been faster."
"It would've."
Frankie smiled.
"But we'd also probably lose somebody."
"...Fair."
---
Dexter slowed for a red light.
Heath drummed nervous fingers against his knees.
"...Can I ask another?"
"I figured you would."
"Do cops always drive this slow?"
Dexter laughed.
"The light's red."
"...Right."
"You planning on asking it to change?"
"...Can I?"
Dexter looked at him.
"...Please don't."
For the first time all day—
Heath laughed.
Really laughed.
It caught him completely by surprise.
"...Sorry."
"No, don't apologize."
Dexter smiled.
"I've been trying to get that joke to land on somebody for years."
"...Seriously?"
"No."
Heath snorted.
"...You're evil."
"I've been called worse."
---
The old tunnel ladder came into view.
Frankie climbed first.
One by one, everyone emerged into the abandoned maintenance shed hidden near the edge of New Salem.
Dust coated everything.
Broken gardening tools leaned against one wall.
Sunlight streamed through gaps in the wooden boards.
Frankie carefully cracked the door open.
Outside...
Human town.
Cars.
Sidewalks.
Telephone poles.
Nothing looked unusual.
Which somehow made everything feel more tense.
"Ready?"
Everyone nodded.
Even Toralei.
Frankie pushed the door open.
The monsters stepped into New Salem together.
---
Several streets away—
Dexter's cruiser turned the final corner.
The school came into view in the distance.
Police vehicles already lined parts of the curb.
Heath's stomach dropped.
"...We're too late."
Dexter didn't answer immediately.
"No."
He pulled into a nearby parking space instead of racing toward the entrance.
"...We're here."
He shut off the engine.
Silence filled the cruiser.
He looked at Heath.
"You remember what we talked about?"
Heath nodded.
"...Think first."
"And?"
"...Don't let anger make my decisions."
"And?"
Heath took a slow breath.
"...If Holt's scared..."
"...He needs someone calm."
Dexter smiled.
"There you go."
Heath reached for the door handle.
Then stopped.
"...Mr. Johnson?"
"Yeah?"
"...Thanks."
Dexter nodded once.
"You can thank me later."
He opened his own door.
"For now..."
He looked toward New Salem High.
"...Let's go find your family."
Across the street, completely unaware that Officer Dexter Johnson and Heath Burns had just arrived, Frankie, Clawdeen, Draculaura, Deuce, Ghoulia, Abbey, Toralei, Cleo, and Lagoona hurried toward the school from the opposite direction.
Two groups.
Two paths.
One destination.
Neither realizing they were only moments away from crossing each other's path.
---
The afternoon air hung heavy over New Salem.
The excitement from the pep band had faded into an uneasy quiet, replaced by the distant murmur of police radios and the occasional closing of a car door somewhere near the front of the school.
Officer Dexter Johnson and Heath Burns crossed the final stretch of sidewalk leading toward the campus.
The closer they came, the slower Heath walked.
His confidence from earlier had evaporated.
Every step made his stomach tighten a little more.
"What if we're too late?" he asked quietly.
Dexter didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked toward the school entrance.
"I've learned something about emergencies."
Heath glanced over.
"They're rarely over when you think they are."
"...Meaning?"
"It means people are usually still deciding what happens next."
That wasn't exactly comforting.
But it wasn't hopeless either.
Heath nodded.
"...Okay."
They continued walking.
---
At nearly the same moment...
The maintenance tunnel door hidden behind an abandoned storage shed creaked open.
Frankie stepped outside first, carefully scanning the empty street.
"No humans."
Clawdeen emerged beside her.
"So far."
One after another, the rest of the group climbed out.
Draculaura dusted dirt from her skirt.
"I officially vote we never crawl through those tunnels again."
"You say that every time," Cleo replied.
"And every time we end up using them anyway."
"I know."
Toralei stretched her arms over her head.
"My tail's gonna be sore for a week."
Ghoulia signed something.
Abbey translated.
"She says less talking."
Frankie nodded.
"Right."
They hurried toward the school.
No one joked anymore.
No one complained.
Every minute mattered.
---
Heath rounded the corner of the administration building—
—and stopped.
For a second he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"...Frankie?"
Frankie looked up.
Her own feet stopped moving.
"Heath?"
Silence.
Then—
"HEATH!"
Draculaura was the first to move.
She flew the remaining distance before wrapping him in a tight hug.
"You idiot!"
Heath stumbled backward from the force of it.
"I know!"
"You disappeared!"
"I know!"
"We've been worried sick!"
"...I know..."
His voice cracked on the last words.
Clawdeen reached them next.
She punched his shoulder.
Not hard.
Just enough.
"You scared us."
"I didn't mean to."
Frankie smiled despite the tears gathering in her eyes.
"We know."
Deuce clapped Heath on the back.
"Dude."
"Dude."
Neither elaborated.
Neither needed to.
Abbey folded her arms.
"You look terrible."
"...Thanks?"
"It was not compliment."
"I figured."
Even that tiny exchange earned a few tired smiles.
The first any of them had managed all day.
---
Toralei lingered near the back.
Hands shoved into her jacket pockets.
Looking everywhere except directly at Heath.
He noticed anyway.
"...Hey."
She looked over.
"...Hey."
Awkward silence settled between them.
Finally—
"...I'm sorry."
The words were so quiet several people almost missed them.
Toralei scowled immediately afterward.
"Don't make a big deal out of it."
Nobody did.
Because they all knew how difficult those words had been for her.
Heath simply nodded.
"...Okay."
"...Still gonna find whoever framed us."
He smiled weakly.
"I'd expect nothing less."
She rolled her eyes.
"Good."
---
Officer Dexter watched from a respectful distance.
He didn't interrupt.
Didn't insert himself into the reunion.
This moment wasn't his.
It belonged to them.
A group of frightened teenagers who had spent the last day believing they might never see each other again.
Frankie finally noticed him.
"...Who's that?"
Heath turned.
"Oh."
He motioned Dexter over.
"Everyone..."
He smiled faintly.
"This is Officer Dexter Johnson."
Dexter offered a small nod.
"Nice to meet you."
The monsters exchanged uncertain looks.
A human police officer.
Standing calmly beside Heath.
Not pointing a weapon.
Not shouting.
Just...
Standing there.
Frankie extended a hand first.
"Frankie Stein."
Dexter shook it.
"Pleasure."
One by one, the others introduced themselves.
Clawdeen.
Draculaura.
Deuce.
Cleo.
Abbey.
Lagoona.
Ghoulia gave a small wave.
Even Toralei muttered her name.
Dexter greeted every single one exactly the same.
No hesitation.
No discomfort.
Just people meeting people.
Heath noticed.
So did everyone else.
---
For one brief moment...
Everything felt almost normal.
Almost.
Then Heath looked around.
His smile disappeared.
"...Where's Jackie?"
Silence.
Frankie answered quietly.
"...We hoped he was with you by now."
Heath's stomach dropped.
"No."
"...And Holt?"
Nobody answered.
Nobody had one.
The weight of that silence settled over the entire group.
The reunion was real.
The relief was real.
But it wasn't complete.
Someone was still missing.
Maybe two.
Depending on who was actually in control.
---
The group slowly turned toward the front entrance of New Salem High.
Something was happening.
The large front doors opened.
Conversation echoed from inside.
Several adults stepped into view.
One of them wore the sheriff's uniform.
The sheriff descended the front steps at a measured pace.
Beside him...
A teenager walked with his hands secured in handcuffs.
Black hair.
A natural blond streak.
Purple-blue eyes lowered toward the ground.
Jackie.
The sheriff guided him toward a waiting patrol car.
Across the street, every monster's eyes locked onto the same sight.
Jackie...
In handcuffs.