The Attack of the Aqua Apes

by R. L. Stine

  They hurried back to Scott’s room. On the way in, Scott stopped so suddenly that Glen slammed right into him.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going,” Glen complained.

  But Scott didn’t reply.

  He simply pointed.

  And gasped.

  8

  Scott and Glen stared in horror at the floor.

  It was littered with blue gravel. The gravel that Glen had carefully poured into the aquarium.

  And the little plastic treasure chest he had positioned so securely in the gravel sat upside down on Scott’s desk.

  Scott searched the room for the palm tree. There it was—in two pieces. Half on the dresser and half on the bed.

  The bones of the pirate skeleton were scattered everywhere.

  It looked as if someone had picked up the aquarium and hurled its contents out. Except . . .

  The carpet wasn’t soaked.

  And the aquarium still sat on Scott’s desk.

  And it still had the same amount of water in it.

  And Mac—now the size of a gerbil!—was still happily swimming around inside it.

  “Did you do this?” Scott asked Glen.

  “Are you crazy?” Glen shouted. “How could I have done it? I was with you the whole time.”

  “Well, it didn’t just happen by itself.”

  “Gee, Scott,” Glen mocked. “Really?”

  Scott moved toward his desk. The gravel crunched under his feet.

  He stooped down and peered closely into the aquarium.

  “Hey! What’s going on!” he cried.

  On the bottom of the aquarium sat one of Scott’s most prized possessions—a real silver dollar, dated 1879. And right next to it was his watch—the watch his parents had given him for his last birthday. Good thing it was waterproof.

  Some pennies, a pencil sharpener, a pack of gum, and a glow-in-the-dark rubber ball were in there, too.

  “I don’t believe this!” Scott said, over and over again. “I just don’t believe this!”

  As Scott and Glen stared in amazement, Mac swam under the rubber ball. He pitched it right out of the water. The ball flew from the bowl, bounced once on the desk, then fell to the floor.

  “Wow!” Glen exclaimed. “Mac must be really strong. Throwing that ball would be like us throwing an elephant!”

  “Do you think he did all this?” Scott asked, motioning to the toys scattered around his room.

  “No way!” Glen replied. “No way!”

  “But you just said he was strong,” Scott reminded him.

  “Well, maybe he did throw this stuff out,” Glen answered. “But he couldn’t get the other stuff in there. There’s got to be another explanation.”

  “Yeah? Like what?” Scott asked.

  “Kelly?” Glen suggested.

  “Nope. Kelly went out. We’re alone here.”

  Glen couldn’t come up with one explanation, Scott realized. And neither could he.

  They both stared down at the aquarium.

  “You know wh-what this means, don’t you?” Scott stammered.

  “No. What?”

  “It means Mac can get out!”

  9

  Scott grabbed the aqua ape instruction booklet off his desk and flipped through it. Are aqua apes supposed to leave their tanks? he wondered. He didn’t think so.

  “Does it have a section on what happens when idiots don’t use distilled water?” Glen demanded.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that we have no clue what Mac’s going to turn into. All because you had to use water from Fear Lake.”

  “Yeah, well Mac’s way cooler than those little white specks!” Scott insisted. “And that’s all we would have had if we had followed the instructions the way you wanted to.”

  Scott stared down at Mac, his eyes growing wider at what he saw.

  The aqua ape was busy stacking all the pennies on top of the little pencil sharpener. “I can’t believe what he’s doing!” he cried. “But we’ve got to get my stuff out of this bowl.”

  “You get it out,” Glen said. “It’s your stuff!”

  Scott didn’t want to stick his fingers in the water. He didn’t know what Mac would do. But he wanted his watch and his silver dollar out of there. So he had no choice.

  He decided to go for the watch first. Mac wasn’t too near it.

  Scott took a deep breath and shot his hand down. He grabbed the watch and jerked his hand back.

  Scott grinned and shook the watch in front of Glen. Drops of water splashed across Glen’s face. “Your turn,” he said. “Unless you’re too scared!”

  Glen wiped the water off his face with his sleeve. “I’m not the one who wants the stuff, so why should I get it?” he asked.

  Scott reached for the silver dollar, feeling a lot less nervous.

  He dipped his hand into the water—and snap!

  A sharp, fierce pain shot through his fingers as Mac clamped down on them. Hard.

  Stabbing them.

  Stabbing them with his razor-sharp teeth.

  10

  “Help! He’s got me!” Scott screamed.

  Mac clawed his way up Scott’s hand. It felt like hot needles jabbing into his skin. Tiny drops of blood spurted out of his skin.

  Scott shook his hand back and forth. Furiously. Trying to fling Mac off. But Mac just dug his teeth in deeper.

  He slithered under the sleeve of Scott’s sweatshirt. Scott could feel Mac moving. Moving up. Leaving a burning trail on his bare arm.

  “Help! Get him out! Get him out!” Scott jumped up and down, whacking at Mac through his shirt. “I feel like I’m on fire!”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Glen shouted back.

  “Mac!” Scott screamed. “He ran up my sleeve!”

  “He ran up your sleeve?” Glen repeated in total disbelief. “Gross!”

  “Get him out!” Scott yelled.

  “Take your sweatshirt off,” Glen snapped back.

  Scott yanked his sweatshirt up over his head.

  He glanced down at his arm.

  No Mac.

  He figured that Mac had to be somewhere in his sweatshirt. But he was wrong.

  “Don’t move,” Glen instructed him. He stared at a spot on Scott’s chest.

  Scott looked down and saw Mac clinging to the front of his T-shirt. Mac stared straight up at him. “Get him off me!”

  Glen moved closer. But only to get a better look. “Cool,” Glen said, inspecting Mac from safely behind Scott’s shoulder. “Oh, wow. He’s smiling at me!

  “This is totally amazing,” Glen went on. “He sure has sharp teeth. They could do some real damage. I’m not touching him.”

  Scott couldn’t stand having Mac stuck to him for one more second. It was like having a big creepy insect—like a tarantula—on him.

  Scott inched his hand toward the aqua ape. Mac watched carefully, but remained still.

  When Scott’s fingertip finally touched Mac, he was surprised by what he felt. Mac’s fur was just like any other animal’s fur. Even though it was wet and matted from the water, it was still soft. And Scott could tell that if it were dry it would be fluffy, too.

  Suddenly, Scott wasn’t so grossed out anymore. He ran his finger gently down Mac’s back, petting him. And Mac really seemed to like it. He leaned into Scott’s finger and rubbed against it, making little squeaking noises.

  “Let me pet him,” Glen butted in.

  “Oh, sure. Now you want to touch him.”

  Scott watched as Glen petted Mac.

  “He’s really neat,” Glen had to admit. “I never thought we’d get anything like this when we ordered the aqua apes kit.”

  “You didn’t think we’d get anything at all,” Scott reminded him.

  “Are you sure he’s okay out of the water like this?” Glen changed the subject.

  Scott shrugged. “He seems okay. Besides, it’s not like we took him out. He came out all by himself.” With Mac still
attached to his shirt, Scott gently lowered himself to the floor. He continued to stroke Mac’s fur.

  Glen sat opposite him. Mac jumped off Scott’s shirt and stood on the floor between the two boys.

  What is he going to do? Scott wondered. But all Mac did was glance back and forth at the two of them, as if he expected them to do something first.

  “Maybe he wants to play,” Glen suggested.

  “How do you play with an aqua—?” But before Scott finished, he had an idea.

  Scott spotted the glow-in-the-dark ball that Mac had tossed out of the tank earlier. He picked it up from the floor and rolled it gently toward Mac.

  The ball came to a stop right in front of Mac. Mac stared at it for a second. Then he peered at Scott. Then he did just what Scott hoped he would—Mac picked up the ball and tossed it back.

  Scott wasn’t quick enough to catch it. The ball hit him in the chest with a thump and fell to the floor.

  “I can’t believe how strong he is.”

  “Yeah,” Scott answered, rubbing his chest. “That hurt!”

  “It was an accident,” Glen defended Mac.

  “I know,” Scott said, “but it still hurt.”

  Glen reached for the ball and rolled it back to Mac. Mac picked it up and tossed it back to Glen.

  “This is great!” Scott exclaimed.

  Mac seemed to love playing ball. Sometimes he threw it right to Scott or Glen. And sometimes he threw it past them so that they would have to go fetch it. But when Scott or Glen tried to make Mac fetch, Mac refused. He simply sat down and waited for one of them to get it.

  “Hey, do you think Mac is shrinking?” Scott asked as he fetched the ball for the little ape.

  “Gee. I think he is. He looks smaller—and sort of flatter.”

  Scott rolled the ball gently to Mac. But Mac ignored it. He slowly crawled back to Scott’s desk. Then, just like a bug, he climbed right up the side and pulled himself into his aquarium.

  Scott stood and stared at Mac, who was now floating in the water. “Look!” he called to Glen. “He’s starting to puff up again. I guess he can’t be out of the water for too long. It wears him out.”

  “We should let him rest,” Glen suggested, picking up his jacket. “Why don’t we go to the mall and play Thunder Racer at the video arcade?”

  Scott grabbed his jacket off the bed. “Why would you want to do that? You stink at Thunder Racer. It can’t be much fun for you.”

  “You’re the one who stinks,” Glen shot back, heading for the door.

  “You crash and burn every time you step on the gas pedal,” Scott insisted. He glanced around the room for his baseball cap. He found it hanging on the back of his desk chair near Mac’s tank. He grabbed it and stuck it on.

  “Yeah, well, the only reason you don’t crash is because you drive five miles an hour,” Glen told him as they leaped down the stairs.

  “First one to the bus stop gets the first turn!” Glen yelled. He shoved through the front door ahead of Scott and took off down the street.

  “The only way you can beat me is by cheating,” Scott called, racing after him. Then he stopped. “Hey, wait. Mac’s aquarium doesn’t have a lid! We have to go back and cover it with something.”

  Glen turned around and trotted backward toward the bus stop. “Don’t worry,” he shouted. “Mac’s resting. Besides, what could happen?”

  11

  “Watch out!” Glen yelled. “You’re gonna get creamed!”

  But it was too late. Scott had already lost control of the video race car. He closed his eyes just as he was about to hit the wall. The sound of the crash echoed all around him.

  Thunder Racer was the coolest game in the arcade. The seats of the car bounced around as if the car were actually speeding around a racetrack. The video screen in front of the car was gigantic. And huge speakers made everything sound totally real.

  “Give me another quarter,” Scott said to Glen. He was having so much fun that he had almost forgotten all about Mac.

  Almost.

  He couldn’t help wondering if he should have used distilled water to grow the aqua apes. He was afraid using the Fear Lake water had made Mac turn out . . . wrong.

  “No way,” Glen answered. “It’s my turn.”

  “Come on,” Scott pleaded, refusing to budge from the driver’s seat. “I let you go twice.”

  “Yeah, but this is my last quarter,” Glen said. “And it’s my turn!”

  “If you got to go twice in a row, I get to go twice in a row,” Scott insisted.

  Scott dug through the pockets of his jeans, searching for change. No luck. He tried his jacket pockets next.

  But instead of quarters, Scott found something else. Something he hadn’t put there.

  And whatever it was, it definitely did not belong in his jacket. It felt damp and yucky, like a wad of wet tissues.

  And then it moved!

  “Aaaagh!” Scott screamed, yanking his hand out of his pocket.

  “What’s wrong?” Glen asked, startled.

  But he didn’t have to wait for an answer.

  Mac leaped out of Scott’s pocket and landed on the steering wheel!

  Scott’s jaw gaped open. “Hey! How did you get in there?”

  He was quite a bit smaller—but they had been at the arcade for an hour now. Scott figured Mac shrunk because he’d been out of the water all that time.

  Scott reached down to pick Mac up. But Mac was too fast. He jumped onto the side of the car and dived into the coin return slot.

  “Uh-oh,” Glen gasped. “How are we gonna get him out of there?”

  “I don’t know,” Scott groaned, peering down into the slot.

  “Maybe this will work,” Glen said. He pushed the coin return button.

  Mac didn’t come back out. But a quarter did.

  “Cool,” Glen said, reaching for the quarter. But before he could pick it up, another quarter dropped out.

  And then another.

  And another.

  Then quarters started pouring out of the machine.

  “Oh, no,” Scott moaned, trying to shove the quarters back in. “It looks like Mac broke the machine.”

  Glen pushed Scott’s hands out of the way so the quarters could keep coming. “So what’s the problem? This is great!” Glen exclaimed as he scooped up a handful of change.

  “Hey! You!” a really deep, really mean voice called from behind them. “What do you two clowns think you’re doing over there?”

  Scott and Glen turned toward the voice.

  “Uh-oh. It’s the manager—Big Bruno,” Scott whispered. “And he’s heading this way!”

  12

  “We’ve got to get out of here!” Scott cried.

  The manager stomped through the crowds of kids. Getting closer and closer.

  “What about Mac?” Glen asked. “We can’t just leave him here!”

  As if he heard Glen, the aqua ape popped out of the coin slot as quickly as he’d jumped in.

  “Here he is,” Scott cried, spotting Mac. He reached out for him but Mac was too fast. He sprang from the top of the coin slot to the floor. Then he scurried away.

  Scott and Glen charged after Mac. Scott glanced over his shoulder—and breathed a long sigh of relief. The manager wasn’t chasing them. He was too busy picking up all the quarters they’d left behind.

  That was the good news. The bad news was that Mac was lost in a sea of sneakers. Sneakers attached to kids who were playing video games—yelling, screaming, and jumping. Jumping up and down in excitement. Pounding the floor. Narrowly missing Mac as he weaved in between them.

  Nobody seemed to notice Mac as he zigzagged through the crowd.

  “Look out!” Scott yelled as a tall, stocky kid with major muscles almost smashed Mac flat.

  Mac dove over the shoe and escaped. But Scott ran right into the kid. “Look out, yourself,” the kid snarled, shoving Scott hard.

  Scott fell backward into Glen. Then they both tumbled to th
e floor. By the time they scrambled to their feet, they had lost sight of Mac.

  “Oh, no!” Scott cried. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t see him anywhere,” Glen answered.

  Then, suddenly, a pinball machine near Scott came alive—all by itself.

  The balls started zinging around inside.

  The lights flashed on and off.

  Bells clanged.

  Buzzers buzzed.

  Scott had the terrible feeling that he knew exactly where Mac was.

  And he could tell Glen was thinking the same thing. Glen leaned over and peeked into the coin return slot.

  “Can you see anything?” Scott asked. The balls began zipping around the machine faster and faster. Bouncing off the bumpers. Disappearing down secret traps, then popping out again. The bells clanged louder as more balls flew—flew around the machine, which was shaking madly now. It looked as if it were about to blast off!

  Glen tried to peer into the coin slot, but the machine wouldn’t stand still. A crowd of kids had gathered to watch, as smoke started to pour out of the top.

  “It’s going to explode!” one of the kids yelled.

  Then, suddenly, all the pinball lights popped off. The metal balls stopped rolling. The bells and buzzers wheezed into silence. And, from the bottom of the machine, Mac dropped to the floor.

  As Scott started to reach for Mac, a big hairy hand clamped down on his shoulder. Hard. It was Big Bruno.

  “What’s going on here?” he boomed. Then he glanced down and spotted Mac. Mac’s claws were wedged in the wooden floor. He was struggling to free himself.

  Big Bruno squinted. Scott could tell he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking at.

  Bruno lifted his face and shoved it inches away from Scott’s nose. His hot, stinking breath filled Scott’s nostrils as he roared, “No pets allowed!”

  Then he lifted his huge foot.

  Scott glanced at Mac. He was twisting and turning. Frantically trying to free himself from the wooden planks.

  Scott watched in horror as Bruno brought his black boot down.

  Down.

  Down on Mac.

  To grind him into the floor—forever.