Fartsunami

by M. D. Payne

  Good-Smellin’ Guts

  It smelled amazing inside the worm. A. May. ZING. It smelled exactly like the roasted nuts you might find at a carnival or fair, but even sweeter. Like the roasted-nut guys were cooking the nuts in a vat of cotton candy juice.

  I felt warm. I felt happy. I felt…safe.

  I curled up into the warm guts and thought about taking a nap. I was almost off to dreamland—

  When my phone rang in my hand.

  The light from the screen illuminated the guts and I was once again reminded that I was not at some local fair, but inside a massive sea worm. I was wrapped in the stomach of the creature, covered in goop and black stuff. Veins pumped thick, black blood just through the surface of the stomach skin.

  Suddenly I didn’t feel so safe.

  I accepted the call and slowly, slimily pulled the phone up to my ear. It was difficult, and it felt like the creature’s stomach muscles were trying to slow me down along the way.

  Finally, I got the phone up to my ear.

  “Hello?” I asked

  “Hi, Chrissy!” a voice squealed with excitement on the other end of the line.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said as unexcitedly as I could.

  “Well, sheesh!” she bubbled. “Thanks for picking up. You usually just call me back later.”

  I had no idea what to say to my mother, but I had to get her off the phone.

  “Well,” I stumbled. “We made it here just fine today, and the wildlife is really…wild! In fact I have to run up the nature trail real quick—someone saw a…um…hippo.”

  The guts were making me delirious.

  “Hippo?” My mother sounded confused. “Chrissy, it doesn’t even sound like you’re outside—you sound like you’re inside.”

  If you only knew, I thought.

  “Okay, Ma!” I yelled. “I gotta go. Love you!”

  I hung up the phone and was once again plunged into the sweet, sweet darkness of the sea worm. I really wanted to nap, but before laying my head on the squishy stomach lining, I made a very important call.

  “Huh…hullo?” Ben purred on the other end.

  I had clearly woken him up.

  “Hey!” I yelled. “It’s me, Chris! We’re still alive!”

  “This is so weird,” Ben said. “What’s happening? Does your worm smell like the best brand of dryer sheets ever? Like, mixed with really, really good dishwashing detergent and body wash?”

  “Well, my worm smells really good, but like the best carnival sweets you could ever imagine.”

  “Weird! It made me so happy in here that I just…”

  “…fell asleep,” I finished. “Yeah, I would have too, if my mother hadn’t just called me. This is really, really weird.”

  “It doesn’t look like we’re being digested,” said Ben. “I’m not being burned by any acid. You?”

  “Nope,” I said, looking at my pale-white-as-usual arm in the glow of the phone.

  “Listen,” Ben said.

  When we were first scooped up by the sea worms, we could hear hundreds of legs stomping along the ground, and the guts were much more jiggly.

  Now all we could hear was a soft swishhhhhh.

  “We’re in the water,” I said. “Oh, man, where are they taking us?”

  “Do Shane or Gordon have their cell phones?” Ben asked.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I’ll call them and see if they answer.”

  “Okay,” said Ben. “Enjoy your good-smellin’ worm. If they’d smelled as bad on the inside as they do on the outside, I would have died in two minutes.”

  Ben hung up.

  I tried calling Shane but before I could get halfway through his number on the third try, my fingers slipped off of the keypad and I fell into a deep, relaxed sleep.

  I woke up FAST.

  The muscles of the sea worm rippled around me. They pushed and squeezed—I could barely breathe. Then a light appeared above me, and I heard a retching sound.

  Below, a black ooze bubbled up around my feet, and the sweet smell of roasted nuts and cotton candy was immediately erased. It once again smelled like centuries-old rotten fish.

  WHHHURP!

  WHHHHHARRRFFF!

  The worm retched and coughed, and I slowly, painfully made my way up toward the light, the muscles squeezing me tightly the whole way.

  The smell was absolutely horrific, and I didn’t know how much more I could take. The worm was trying to get me out, but it was just too slow.

  The black goo had made its way up to my waist, and I was about to pass out. I had to speed things up somehow.

  My arms were pinned to my side. My legs were pushed straight down.

  I only had one weapon…my mouth.

  I opened up as wide as I could, coughing and spitting, and

  CHOMP!

  I bit the tender stomach lining of the sea worm.

  I could hear an angry hiss, and the sea worm’s body rippled. It squeezed me with its guts even harder.

  “Arrrrggghhhh!” I yelled.

  The pain was intense.

  And then, suddenly,

  SPLOOT!

  I shot out of the worm, and into the blinding light.

  I was completely dazed and confused, but I knew two things right away.

  I was rolling through the most beautiful beach I had ever seen in my life and…

  I stopped right in front of the feet of Director Z!

  Beach Bums

  “YOU were the one who sent the worms!” I coughed through a mouthful of sand and sea worm gunk.

  “Indeed,” said Director Z.

  “I knew you would do something like this,” I said.

  Director Z and two Nurses stood on a white sand beach, surrounded by sunbathing monsters—some in creaky wooden chairs, some on ragged, thin towels. It was bright—and HOT. It felt a hundred times hotter than it had felt on Cape Canaveral. Beyond the beach was a thick jungle, and from out of the jungle, tall, white resort towers pushed into the sky.

  Behind me, I could hear the giant sea worm splash back into the water. It burped one last painful burp and disappeared under the waves.

  I couldn’t believe it. I closed my eyes and shook my head, but when I opened my eyes again, I still saw old monsters up and down the beautiful beach. I tried to stand, but stumbled backward and rolled toward the surf. The Nurses came down to help me.

  “Hold me up to his face,” I ordered one Nurse.

  He gave me a strange look, but did as he was told. I was nose to nose with Director Z, covered in sandy black gunk. I shook with anger in the hands of the Nurse.

  “What are you doing!?” I screamed. “You ruined my Dream Trip, just like I knew you would!!!”

  “Chris, you might not feel the same, but it’s wonderful to see you,” said Director Z calmly. “I do very much apologize for the mode of transportation I selected to get you to Paradise Island.”

  “Paradise Island…in the Bermuda Triangle?” I asked. “That’s where Herr Direktor Detlef’s retirement home is…”

  “That is correct,” said Director Z. “The important news Herr Direktor Detlef was never able to announce—he’d be swapping facilities with us—as a congratulations for defeating the sussuroblats. We left that very same night, but you left before I could tell you. He and his residents are now at Raven Hill.”

  “Great for you guys, but why are we here?” I demanded, still staring Director Z directly in the eyes. “And why did you send worms to get us?”

  “First off,” Director Z said, “I’d like to point out that it could have been worse—the witches put several spells on the sea worms, which led to a much more pleasant journey. The stomachs of the beasts were charmed with a smellgood spell and a hibernation spell. You fell asleep comfortably, I assume?”

  “Yeah, I guess I took a little nap,” I growled.

  “You had more than a nap,” said Director Z. “It’s at least a six-hour journey by sea worm to this island from Cape Canaveral, and I’m sure for you it felt l
ike…”

  “Fifteen minutes!” I said, flabbergasted. “Why didn’t you just ask us to come with you?” I asked. “It would have been a better trip than the one I just took.”

  “We didn’t need you until now. Plus, I knew that you were fed up with Raven Hill, and quite frankly, I think you had every right to be. I’ve been working you hard, and despite all your efforts, the residents have been quite rude. So I let you go on your field trip, but had Ms. Veracruz keep a close eye on you in case you were needed.”

  “What about the fact that four students are now missing?” I asked.

  “Ms. Veracruz slipped a short-term-memory-erasing serum into the breakfast of everyone in your group so that they will forget that you were even with them. Everything has been taken care of, and I’m grateful that you’re here. You see, we have a major problem, Chris, and I need your help.”

  I was still angry I was missing out on Kennedy Space Center, but what could I do? The main reason we wanted a break from Raven Hill was because the monsters really didn’t need us. Now that I knew they needed us, I felt ready to help.

  “Put me down,” I said to the Nurse.

  The Nurse put me down and Director Z crouched down closer to my face, speaking softly. “Several of the residents have suffered a severe lebensplasm loss,” he explained, “but we can’t tell how they are being drained. They seem perfectly happy one moment, and then the very next, they’re agitated and annoyed, lashing out and biting—harming others and themselves. It’s like they’ve been given a strange strength at the same time that they’ve been drained.”

  “But how can we help?” I asked. “And where are my friends?”

  “I made sure your sea worm arrived first,” Director Z said, “so that we could talk. I figured you might have a few questions. The others should be along shortly. As we’re not sure what we’re defending ourselves against, I’m not yet exactly sure how you gentlemen can help. However, you helped defend Raven Hill from the sussuroblats, so I’m sure you can help us here with whatever enemy we face. And, I can assure you, I will more than make up for your missed trip to Kennedy Space Center.”

  His normally cool face became sad and tired. He headed into the crowd of sunbathing monsters.

  “Please join me,” he said.

  We weaved our way through the old monsters. The swamp creature was applying sun cream to his scaly body. A group of witches stood up and ran toward the water, cackling in their long black bathing gowns. All of the banshees lay facedown on threadbare towels, enjoying a bit of sun on their backs.

  We walked a few feet past the last sunbathers.

  “Now, I don’t want to alarm my staff or my residents,” said Director Z, “which is why I’m trying to be as discreet as possible, but this is an extremely worrisome situation. We’ve absolutely never seen anything like this before. One of the mummies unwrapped himself and walked right into the ocean. A witch went mad and hexed a few of the zombies—luckily she was so deranged, the effects were minimal. Flowers grew out of their ears.

  “As you can see, not many of them have been affected—most are actually amazingly healthy and relaxed after only a few days here. You’ll see that everyone is much better behaved. But, the ones who have been drained…”

  Director Z stared at the crashing blue waves for a moment, his face growing even sadder.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Well, Chris, they are mere shells of their former selves. In my history as Director, I’ve never seen any residents drained so fast. I think we may lose the residents in mass numbers unless we can figure out what’s going on here.”

  “Okay, okay!” I said, now just as worried as Director Z. “I’m ready to solve your mystery.”

  The dark frown left Director Z’s face, and he straightened his suit.

  “And, while you solve the mystery, you should also enjoy all the perks of a private tropical island. As soon as your friends arrive, I’ll give you a tour of the facility. I’m sure you’ll want to see where all the Jacuzzis are, and knowing the layout of the facility will also be helpful in piecing clues together.”

  We walked back toward the sunbathers.

  Vacations Make Me Sick

  Director Z and I walked past a group of sunbathing old vampires on the beach, their wrinkled bodies on display. They wore a stomach-churning choice of swimwear: Speedos. Their hairy chests smoldered slightly in the morning sunlight.

  “Chris!” said Grigore, one of the vampires. “It is vonderful to see you here!”

  He got up to say hello, grinning a sharp-toothed grin from ear to ear. He had helped us defeat the sussuroblats, but like the other monsters, Grigore was usually grumpy and hard to deal with. I was surprised to see him so happy.

  “What are you doing in the sun?” I asked.

  “One of the few benefits of being a weak old vampire,” he said, “is that the sun affects me very little.”

  “But the smoke…” I said, smelling bacon in the air.

  “Smoke?” Grigore looked confused. “I’m smoking? Sheesh. I just applied an SPF 5,000 a few minutes ago.”

  “Yes, you gentlemen might want to find a palm tree,” said Director Z. “You don’t want to overdo it. That being said, I think you’re getting quite a nice tan, old man.”

  Before I could ask Director Z any more questions, there was a huge splash, and three sea worms crawled out of the crashing waves. They reared up, retched loudly, and spit out my three friends, before returning to the water.

  “Ah,” said Director Z, “right on time!”

  Director Z called a few Nurses down to help my friends, who began to stir on the sand.

  Ben and Shane grunted as the Nurses helped them to their feet. Gordon appeared to be asleep. His head bobbed on his chest.

  I walked down with the Director to talk with them.

  “Dude,” said Shane, “why are we here?”

  “The monster juice supply is in danger,” I said. “Director Z ordered the worms to bring us here. We have to help.”

  “And why are they here?” asked Ben, rubbing his eyes in disbelief.

  “They’ve traded facilities with Herr Direktor Detlef’s residents,” I replied. “Welcome to Paradise Island!”

  “Ohhhhhh,” Ben and Shane said.

  Gordon’s head came up so quick I swear I heard his neck crack.

  “Wow!” said Gordon, screaming through clenched teeth. “This place is beautiful! Is this the Cape Canaveral Alligator Refuge Thingamajiggy? How did we get here? Why do I smell like my mother’s roast chicken?”

  Gordon drooled a little bit and then passed out again. The Nurse held on tight.

  “Shane, what did your worm smell like?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah!” he said. “It was the strangest thing. It smelled like the inside of a jack-o’-lantern when you burn a candle in it—specifically, the lid of the jack-o’-lantern, when you pull it off and give it a whiff at the end of the night. I think that’s my favorite smell of all time, actually.”

  “But of course,” said the Director. “The smellgood spell the witches cast on the innards of the sea worms give them the odor of your favorite smell.”

  “Cleaning products,” said Ben.

  “Carnival food,” I said.

  Gordon’s head slowly came up once again.

  “Gordon, is the smell of your mother’s roast chicken your favorite smell?” I asked.

  “No, I hate my mother’s roast chicken,” Gordon growled, staring into the distance like a zombie. “Where is the rest of my team? We have practice with Coach Grey tonight. Coach. Practice. We. Have. Roast…chicken?”

  He looked at his hands and began to cry.

  “Gordon?” Ben asked, “Are you okay?”

  He looked at Ben and screamed. He shook and spat in the Nurse’s arms, gurgling and frothing at the mouth. A few of the old monsters turned toward the noise.

  “Gordon!” I yelled.

  “Nurse Gigg, release him at once,” Director Z commanded. “He’s seizing
so hard he’ll break his bones if you hold on to him!”

  Nurse Gigg dropped Gordon, who hit the sand and flopped around like a piranha on a carpet. He kicked sand onto a few of the sunbathing mummies, who looked up in surprise.

  Shane bent down to help Gordon, but Director Z pushed him back.

  “There’s nothing we can do now,” said Director Z. “It’s up to him to fight it.”

  “Fight what?” Ben asked.

  “He’s having an allergic reaction to the sea worm,” Director Z said.

  “Gwaaaaah!” Gordon yelled.

  He arched his back until I thought it would break, and then lay terribly still.

  “Gordon?”

  Trouble in Paradise

  Director Z kneeled down next to Gordon, and checked his pulse. He then stared off in the distance for a long time. Almost all of the monsters got up and shuffled down to the water’s edge to investigate.

  “Well?” asked Frederick, the old stitched-together monster. “Is he dead?”

  Ben, Shane, and I stared in shock, waiting for Director Z’s answer.

  “His pulse is slow,” he finally said, “but it’s there. We must get him to the infirmary at once.”

  He waved Nurse Gigg back over.

  “Quickly,” he commanded.

  Nurse Gigg bent over, picked Gordon up, and threw him over his shoulder in one smooth motion.

  “Is he going to be okay?” asked Ben.

  “Yes,” said Director Z. “But we must act swiftly.”

  Director Z and the Nurse ran up the beach and into the jungle.

  Ben, Shane, and I stood on the beach, dumbfounded. Shane finally broke the silence.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” he said, and sprinted up to the path, which was marked with a tiki torch.

  Ben and I followed.

  “Wow,” Ben said as we ran deep into the jungle. “It’s cold in here. Where did the sun go? I can’t even see the buildings anymore.”

  “Look—Director Z is just up there,” I said.

  We ran up to meet him. Nurse Gigg was a few yards ahead. Gordon’s head bobbed up and down as he plowed forward.

  We caught up to Nurse Gigg, and kept running. Strange noises escaped from the jungle, but none was stranger than the low, deep growls that shook the leaves.