by Peter Nelson
They looked up. A large, junky-looking RV was descending into the jungle nearby. Atop it, gripping the truck like a white falcon holding its prey, was Gusto’s Heli-Jet. Its near-silent rotors violently shook and sliced the jungle leaves and treetops as it landed.
“I warned you,” a voice spoke up weakly. Jordan and Izzy spun around.
Chupacabra limped toward the fire, staring daggers at the two of them. “I warned you that the men were coming to hunt you. And so, here they are.”
Izzy stepped in front of Jordan and growled at Chupacabra.
“I could’ve protected you if you’d joined me,” the injured creature continued. “But you chose to stand on the side of men. You’ll see how they treat you, how your Creature Keeper will fail to protect you from his own kind. And so will the entire world.”
Chupacabra stepped into the fire. His robe turned to flame, swirling around his body, but he smiled calmly. “Good luck, cryptid,” Chupacabra snarled. “You’ll need it.”
FWOOSH! He suddenly blasted into a streak of flame, shooting past the tree canopy like a meteorite returning to the heavens. Izzy looked more spooked than ever. His big eye took in the RV touching ground nearby, then glanced at Jordan. Then Izzy turned to run.
“Izzy, wait!” Jordan yelled. “That beast was right about one thing—you can’t run and hide from those men.” Izzy stopped, and stared at Jordan. “With the equipment they have, they will hunt you down. But he’s wrong about having to fight them. There’s a third option to fighting or fleeing.” He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “You have to trust me, Izzy. Let me be your Creature Keeper. Let me do what Creature Keepers do best—help, hide . . . and hoax.”
29
The hike back down Mount Breakenridge was a slow and dangerous slog. Every few minutes, another pressure-rumbler would shake the side of the mountain. All the Badger Rangers would lie on the ground, while Syd hovered over them, watching for any loose rocks or landslides. When the tremors stopped, they’d carefully continue along the trail, which was broken and uneven from the seismic disruptions. As they finally reached the rocky shoreline of Harrison Lake and caught sight of the rest of the rangers standing near the toe boulders along with Doris and Ranger Master MacInerney, both parties let out a loud cheer.
But it didn’t last long.
RRRRRUUUMMMMMMMMMBLE!
“All right,” Abbie said. “Listen up, everybody. We’ve got a twice-in-a-millennium megathrust earthquake that’s about to blow, with the potential of breaking at least the west coast of this continent off its mantle, or something.” She glanced at Syd. He gave her a thumbs-up and nodded for her to keep going.
“All we have to do to stop it is crack open a very large, very deeply embedded rock, affectionately named Roxanne, up on that mountain. And the only way to do that is by using Syd’s giant Soil-Soles, which have been stolen by the crazy, evil dude who blasted us off the island last night.”
“Gosh,” Doris said. “When you put it that way, the situation sounds so bad.”
“And I’ve thought of a really bad plan to try and stop it,” Abbie said. “It’s going to require all of you to use whatever dorky skills you have, and it’s a long shot that’s probably doomed to fail. But it’s all I’ve got, so unless anyone else has any ideas, let’s get busy before we find ourselves buried under a nice-sized chunk of North America.”
The others looked at one another. No one had any ideas.
“Okay, then. The basic idea is simple—since we can’t go and take the Soil-Soles back from Gusto and crack open Roxanne ourselves, we’re gonna trick Gusto into bringing them over here and cracking her open for us!”
They all stared at her with blank looks on their little Badger Ranger faces. Doris leaned in to Abbie and whispered, “Maybe you should just skip to the part where you tell everyone what you need them to do, dearie.”
“Right. Little dorks with badges in carpentry, sculpture, medieval traps, and puppetry, come see me. The rest of you little dorks start disassembling what’s left of the giant wooden badger. Syd, start loosening up those toe boulders—we’re gonna need ’em. Doris, you prepare the other paddle-goose. You and I are going to do a little spying mission. Let’s pull it together people, we don’t have much time!”
RRRRRUUUMMMMMMMMMBLE!
Abbie put everyone to work, but the tremor really got them moving.
Moments later, Abbie and Doris were paddling out on Harrison Lake, hugging the bend in the coast that led southward toward Echo Island. Before they turned the corner, they looked back at their troops at the bottom of Mount Breakenridge. The rangers were busy dismantling and repurposing the parts that once made up the giant wooden badger, while Syd was rocking the toe boulders back and forth, loosening them and rolling them toward the work area.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Doris said.
They quietly paddled within a good distance of the little island. Doris pulled out Ranger Master MacInerney’s binoculars for a closer look.
“Well, Gusto’s open for business,” she said. “Plenty of people already there. It looks more like a theme park.”
“Theme park?” Abbie said. “Eight hours ago it was a beach with nothing on it but a bunch of canvas tents and a giant driftwood badger!”
“It’s more than that now,” Doris said. “See for yourself.”
She handed Abbie the binoculars. Abbie saw what was formerly Echo Island, now known by the enormous banner above a giant movie screen as BUCK WILDE’S WILDE ISLE! The outdoor screen reminded Abbie of an old-time drive-in movie theater her parents used to drag her and her brother to. It had a big crack in it, likely from all the seismic rattling, but it was otherwise intact, showcasing a fancy new logo for Buck and Gusto’s new show: Buck Wilde: CREATURE-CATCHER!
To one side of the screen was a large statue of the man himself, Buck Wilde, striking a manly pose with his lasso. One of his arms had broken off, no doubt also thanks to the seismic shakes. In front of the movie screen, among toppled food-court carts and disheveled merchandise booths, the BuckHeads were milling about. And they didn’t seem very happy to be there.
“They look scared,” Abbie said.
“See Gusto anywhere?” Doris said.
“Not yet.”
RRRRRUUUMMMMMMMMMBLE!
The distant tremor from Mount Breakenridge shook the island. The crowd reacted in panic, and many of the BuckHeads rushed toward the small docking area where the ferryboats were tied off, only to be stopped by Gusto’s men. “They’re not being let off the island,” she said. “What a psycho this guy is. But where is he?”
“He’s got to be there. He wouldn’t miss his own big premiere.”
“Okay. Let’s get back, and let’s hope our team has finished.” As they turned the ugly black goose around and headed back toward the others, something caught Abbie’s eye. She thought she saw a falling star descend from the sky and disappear somewhere behind the giant movie screen on Wilde-Isle.
“Hey, you little dorks did a pretty good job!” Abbie addressed the proud but exhausted Badger Rangers as they all stood at the base of Mount Breakenridge, looking out on the water at a fifty-foot-tall driftwood sculpture floating on a wooden platform. It was a very rough likeness of Syd, standing tall with his giant feet. His arms were raised over his head, and he held a large sign that spelled out over his head in pieces of driftwood, BIGFOOT LIVES! They all watched as Syd launched it, sending it drifting out into the center of the lake. Where the toe boulders used to be, there were now just five divots in the shoreline.
“I have to say,” Syd said, “I really don’t care for that name.”
“Sorry,” Badger Ranger Sinclair said. “We didn’t have enough planks for all the letters needed to spell out Sasquatch.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “It was either this or Sasquat. We went with this.”
“Get over it, you big lummox,” Doris said. “Great work, rangers. Nice to see you kept the bonding part of your exercise intact.
”
RRRRRUUUMMMMMMMMMBLE!
“Okay,” Abbie said. “Time for phase two of my really bad plan.” She turned to Syd. “I need you to start climbing. Halfway up the trail, at the first overlook. Stand as big as you can, so Gusto can see you from the water.”
“Okay,” Syd said. “What’ll I do when he comes after me?”
“You’re One-Step-Ahead Syd,” she smiled. “You stay one step ahead.”
30
Abbie and Doris sat in their paddle-goose, spying on Buck Wilde’s Wilde-Isle with the binoculars again, but this time from a closer spot. They could see that the BuckHeads and the former Squatch freaks had grown quite vocal—and angry.
RRRRRUUUMMMMMMMMBLE! Another tremor shook the island, toppling over more of the merchandise carts and sending the mass of spectators into more of a frenzy.
“LET US OFF! LET US OFF!” the mob chanted. The crowd near the tiny ferryboats that had brought everyone over was pushing against Gusto’s Brazilian friends, who were nervously holding them back, and steadily losing the battle.
Abbie watched as a few stragglers decided to swim for it. As they jumped into the water to swim for the mainland, a small wave rose up, and toppled them back onto the island. The wave then crashed on the beach, and left standing in its wake Señor Areck Gusto.
The crowd fell silent and parted, staring at the massive Squatch feet at the bottom of his black trench coat. The Soil-Soles plodded straight up the center of the island, where he took a bounding leap and launched himself in the air, landing with at loud THUD! on the stage apron in front of the movie screen. He turned and addressed the crowd.
“No one is going ANYWHERE!” he bellowed so loudly that Abbie and Doris could easily hear him from their paddle-goose, clear across the lake. “We stand together today on the edge of history! Regardless of what happens to us, come earthquake, tsunami, or fire from the skies, the broadcast premiere of Buck Wilde’s new show will reach the masses! And it will change the course of mankind!”
“Look! It’s the curse of the Bigfoot!” shouted a Squatch freak. “He’s back for revenge!”
“SILENCE!” Gusto stomped a foot, shaking the island. “There is no curse!”
“Then what is that?” yelled another voice in the crowd. “Out on the water!”
RRRRRUUUMMMMMMMMMBLE!
The distant tremble offered a nice, dramatic effect to what they all saw as they looked across the water. Gusto’s eyes grew wide, and the crowd gasped. There, floating around the bend in the center of Harrison Lake, was a fifty-foot wooden Sasquatch, holding up a simple message: BIGFOOT LIVES!
The crowd began a chant that grew louder. “BIGFOOT . . . BIGFOOT! BIGFOOT!”
“QUIET! ALL OF YOU!” Gusto stared out at the water and thought for a moment. He suddenly smiled at the crowd, turning on the charm. “My friends, please! Don’t you get it? This is all part of BUCK WILDE’S WILDE ISLE experience! We planned this for your entertainment!”
“No! It’s the curse!” Someone yelled from the crowd. “Bigfoot is back, to take what is rightfully his!”
“Nonsense!” Gusto chuckled. “It’s all part of the show! A theatrical re-creation of how I, Areck Gusto, bravely fought and defeated the vicious creature known as Sasquatch! Consider it a warm-up to the real creature-catching Buck will be doing! Now watch as I reenact my daring clash with this formidable beast, or a loosely constructed representation thereof! Ha-HA!”
Gusto hopped back down onto the beach. The crowd parted again, creating a direct path toward the wooden Squatch. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! He bounded in his Soil-Soles down the path, then took a flying leap at the water’s edge and went soaring through the air, feetfirst, straight for the floating statue.
SMASH! It was a direct hit. Gusto instantly turned the Badger Rangers’ driftwood Squatch sculpture into a shower of splinters. Gusto fell through the underlying raft it was floating on, and felt something tug at him. He jerked his head around underwater. The raft had held up the hollow Squatch, but also the different-sized toe boulders. They were connected by handmade twine and sequoia bark, and when Gusto crushed the raft, the great round rocks collapsed around him, dragging him down toward the bottom of the lake.
Nearby, Abbie and Doris watched in awe from their lookout goose. “I cannot believe that worked,” Abbie said. “Okay! Start paddling in for phase three of the very bad plan!” She and Doris pointed their goose for Mount Breakenridge.
“You keep this up and we might just have to rename this the ‘Not-So-Very-Bad-Plan-After-All Plan’!” Doris yelled.
RRRRRUUUMMMMMMMMMBLE!
Beneath the lake, Gusto thrashed around in his Soil-Soles, weighted down by the five toe boulders entangling him. He wriggled out of his trench coat. The Hydro-Hide sparkled in the waters of Harrison Lake and its scales began flapping as if coming to life.
Abbie and Doris paddled to the spot where the toe boulders were once wedged into the shoreline. They leaped out of their goose boat and darted toward the Badger Rangers.
“Everyone, quickly, into the trees!” Doris ushered them inland to a grove of sequoias just off the small beach. As they scrambled off, Abbie stood looking up at Mount Breakenridge. She spotted Syd climbing straight up the mountainside rather than zigzagging back and forth along the trail. He was nearly to the lookout point, when another rumbling tremor hit.
RRRRRUUUMMMMMMMMMBLE!
“Syd!” Abbie watched as he slipped off the rock he was climbing. He dangled there, just below the vista, hanging on by one hand. She watched helplessly as he struggled to get his other hand up onto the ledge of the vista, then heard something else behind her—a roaring, thunderous noise. She turned to see a tower of water approaching, with Gusto riding its crest.
Gusto stood atop the giant wave, his arms crossed, riding it straight toward the mountainside. She looked back at Syd, and was relieved to see he’d reached the top of the ledge. He was hopping up and down, waving his arms and making obscene gestures toward the oncoming wall of water. He pulled out the Badger Ranger’s trumpet and blew an obscene-sounding phhrrrrrrrrt!
Gusto saw him. He bore down and whooshed faster and higher atop his wave, straight toward Syd. Syd turned and ran farther up the mountain trail for the flat plateau.
“Abbie!” Doris yelled. “Take cover!”
Abbie turned and saw the wall of water looming over her. The wave broke, catapulting Gusto up the mountain in wet pursuit of Syd. Down below, Abbie shut her eyes and prepared to be pummeled by the wave—then felt something grab her and pull her skyward.
She opened her eyes. Once again, the furry gray arms of Kriss had swooped in to the rescue. Kriss soared up toward the flat plateau area, where he and Abbie saw Syd standing in the center of Roxanne, hopping up and down the large stone floor. Gusto had soared high in the air on the crest of the wave and was now free-falling straight at Syd, Soil-Soles first, eager to stomp him with his own swindled shoes.
At the very last second, Syd dived out of the way, into the bushes, as Gusto slammed his Soil-Soles onto the stone-slab surface of Roxanne—a direct hit.
BOOM! CRACK! HISSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHH!
A deep crack in Roxanne broke open, releasing a blast of steam and pressure. Gusto shot out of the crack like a pellet from an air-powered rifle. Abbie watched him soar lifelessly, his rag-doll body spinning and twirling out of control across Harrison Lake.
Doris and the others heard the loud crack from the trees they’d taken cover in, down below. As the water subsided, they climbed down out of the trees and noticed something. There was a calm to the ground, and a sudden stillness in the air. All was quiet. The rumbling had stopped. Mount Breakenridge was still again. Then they looked up.
Syd was running down the trail in Jordan’s sneakers, holding Abbie in his arms. Kriss was flying alongside them. And they were all yelling something. Even Kriss. Something that became clearer to Doris and the others as they approached the bottom of the trail.
“The very bad plan worked perfectly,” Abbie yelle
d. “Great job, everybody! NOW SWIM FOR YOUR LIVES!”
A loud thunder-like CRACK! echoed down from the mountain. It was the sound of solid rock—Roxanne’s sheer cliff—splitting like timber, tumbling in great chunks onto the shore of Mount Breakenridge and into Harrison Lake.
31
“Swim for it, everyone!” Abbie yelled as she herded them toward the water. “Swim as fast and as far away as you can! GO! GO!” Syd ran past Doris and Abbie toward the shore, grabbing the littler Badger Rangers and flinging them as far out into the lake as he could. Kriss took to the air, grabbing Doris and flying her out over the lake.
The Badger Rangers were in the water, swimming for their lives along with Abbie and Syd, while Kriss and Doris flew overhead. Behind them, the sheer cliff slowly toppled into the water like a glacier peeling off into the sea. Syd glanced back. He knew they weren’t nearly far enough out, and he knew what was coming their way. He remembered the Great Cascadian quake of 1700, and reached for Abbie’s hand. She gripped it tightly.
Something stirred beneath them. Something big. It lifted them up. Syd and Abbie stopped swimming and looked ahead at the others—they were being raised, too.
The Creature Keepers’ submarine breached, lifting the swimmers like a platform. As it surfaced, they found themselves on its metal deck. The hatch opened. Eldon popped out and his eyes went wide. The chunks of cliff forced a mini tsunami out from the base of Mount Breakenridge—and it was barreling directly toward them.
“Quick!” Eldon yelled. “Everybody in!” They scrambled into the hatch. He slammed and sealed the submarine door just as the water tossed the vessel, violently flinging around the people—and the creatures—inside.
As the surging wave carried the submarine straight toward Buck Wilde’s Wilde Isle, a flash of sparkling green leaped out of the water ahead of it, racing to reach the tiny island first. Nessie cut across the front of the mini tsunami like a bodysurfer, her Hydro-Hide scales flickering and fluttering, working to stop it. As she weaved in and out of the wall of water, it slowed, then rolled back, finally leveling off, sloshing back to normal.
