by Jack Patton
With special thanks to Adrian Bott
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
DRAGONFLY’S WARNING
STORM IS COMING
MAX TO THE RESCUE
LAGOON LIZARDS
INTO THE RAPIDS
LONGTOOTH TROUBLE
BATTLE PLAN NIAGARA
CROCODILES, ATTACK!
TURNING TAIL
REAL LIFE BATTLE BUGS!
PREVIEW - BATTLE BUGS 8: THE SNAKE FIGHT
COPYRIGHT
Max Darwin woke up with a jolt. A deep rattling, gurgling noise was coming from overhead.
The thought hit him: I’m back on Bug Island! A giant lizard’s about to swallow me whole!
Max sat bolt upright and opened his eyes.
He looked around, saw the timber walls and the bunk beds in the dim morning light from the shuttered window, and remembered where he was.
This wasn’t Bug Island at all. It was the boys’ cabin at Camp Greenwood. The noise he could hear was Scott Downie in the bunk above, snoring. Although the sound was gross and very loud, somehow all the other boys were still fast asleep.
Max lay back down with a sigh. Camp had been awesome so far. There had been boating, archery, science projects with microscopes, and a whole LOT of bug hunting. As cool as camp was, it couldn’t quite match the thrill of battling alongside the intelligent, talking bugs of Bug Island. After two weeks of summer camp, he was starting to miss his home and his bug collection, too. His mom sent him daily texts telling him they were all fine, but he still wanted to see for himself.
That reminded him. There was something he had to do. Something he did every day, while the other kids were still asleep, or whenever he could grab a moment to himself.
“Time to check the encyclopedia,” he whispered to himself. “Just in case …”
He groped under his bed and found the thick, heavy The Complete Encyclopedia of Arthropods. The magical book was a priceless collection of bug knowledge, but also a magical gateway. Whenever it glowed with a special light, Max knew he’d be able to travel through its pages to Bug Island.
When he saw there was no telltale glow coming from the pages, he was disappointed but not surprised. I guess the bugs don’t need me anymore, he thought sadly.
Still, he flipped through the pages eagerly until he reached the double-page map of Bug Island. The book must have had some strange magic left in it, because the map had updated itself after his last visit. The lava bridge that had connected Reptile Island to Bug Island was gone now, and only a few rocky islets were left where it had once been.
Max remembered how the lava bridge had been the cause of a long, bitter war between the bugs and the reptiles, which the bugs had eventually won. The bridge had been smashed away by a gigantic wave—a wave that had taken General Komodo with it. The bugs had defeated the reptiles once and for all, and Bug Island was safe. Forever.
I’m glad, Max thought. But I sure do miss the adventure.
Just then, Scott Downie let out an earsplitting snore like a hippo gargling with mud. Across the room, Jamal Peters sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily. “Scott, you’re going to wake the whole camp!”
Max quickly hid the encyclopedia under his covers before Jamal could see it.
There was a knock at the door. The friendly voice of Joe the camp counselor rang out: “Rise and shine, folks! Last day today. That means you get to do whatever you want.”
All around, boys stirred and stretched. “River trip!” Mark Garcia yelled, bounding out of bed. “Last one to breakfast is a toad’s butt. Go!”
Max got dressed and washed as quickly as he could, then rushed to breakfast at the main lodge. He didn’t care about being a toad’s butt, but he did want to get down to the river.
Together with the other boys, he wolfed down cereal, eggs, toast, and orange juice before charging out into the late-summer warmth.
Mark Garcia was already there, grinning and waiting for them all. “Ready for this?”
“You know it!” Max laughed.
“Okay! Let’s hit that jetty. Last one in the water is a—hey, Max, I never said ‘go!’”
Max was already on his way to the water, his arms and legs pumping.
He sprinted down the dusty track that led the way through the woods. The other boys came storming up behind him, yelling. Up ahead, he could see the river glittering through the trees in the sunlight.
He was in the lead! He sped up his pace, edging out the other boys, keeping the wooden jetty fixed in his view. No stopping now. He was going to run all the way to the end of the jetty—and right off it!
His feet pounded the path. The jetty loomed up ahead. The way was clear. Only a few yards more to go.
Then a bright yellow flash on the riverbank caught his eye.
Instantly, he knew what it was: a dragonfly, perched on a log. Nothing unusual about that …
But then, it shot into the air, flew up and down in an odd, jerky zigzag, then settled back down again.
Max stopped in his tracks. There was definitely something weird about that.
The other boys swerved past him, but he just had to stop and stare at the dragonfly. What’s it doing? he thought.
Again, the dragonfly flew up and did its strange flight routine. Up-down-up-down, left to right, then settle.
The boys splashed in the river, whooping and throwing water at one another. Mark Garcia whooshed past Max and leaped in. “Too slow!” he yelled as he cannonballed into the water.
Max ignored him. Something about the dragonfly’s behavior was—well—bugging him.
It did the midair dance again, and suddenly Max knew what he was looking at.
“It’s a letter M,” he said, amazed.
Jamal Peters swam up to the jetty and squinted at Max. “You coming?”
“Just got to get my magnifying glass,” Max replied. “I need a closer look at that bug!”
“You’re bug crazy!” Jamal laughed.
Max began to race back to the cabin, but a droning noise followed him as he went. He glanced behind and saw that the dragonfly was following him.
Wild excitement gripped him. He wasn’t imagining this.
The moment he burst through the cabin door, he saw light shining from under his bed. Only one thing gave off that unearthly, silvery glow: the encyclopedia!
Max quickly changed his clothes. He yanked the encyclopedia open, found the magnifying glass, and held it over the map. In an instant the dragonfly shot over his shoulder and dived into the book. Max watched it grow tiny until it vanished from sight.
Then a strong, familiar feeling tugged at him. A breeze ruffled his hair, growing stronger and stronger until it was a gale. A poster was ripped off the cabin wall.
Max laughed out loud as he was pulled off his feet into the open pages, into the whirling funnel of wind between the worlds.
Here I go! he thought. Back to Bug Island!
Max dropped out of the cloudy sky above Bug Island. He smacked straight into a thick green leaf, tumbled off it, then fell and landed on another one. He continued, leaf after leaf, until he finally came to rest in a tangle of vines.
Once he was sure which way was up, he took a look around. He’d fallen down the length of a gigantic tree. The leaves on its branches had, fortunately, slowed him down.
There were more huge trees close by. Their thick trunks rose like skyscrapers into the misty gloom overhead. The air was moist, and droplets of water hung from the leaves.
“I must be in the rain forest,” Max said to himself. “And I’m lost. As usual!”
Max glanced around to see if any of his bug friends were nearby. There was no sign of any of them. Well, that wasn’t unusual. Most times when he’d come to Bu
g Island before, he’d dropped down somewhere random—or dangerous—and had to hunt for them.
What was unusual was how dark it was here. Back in the human world, it had been sunny and bright, but there were black clouds over Bug Island. It felt like a heck of a storm was on the way. He hoped the dragonfly that led him here had made it to shelter.
The dragonfly! It had flown through to Bug Island with him. That had never happened before! He stretched in his cradle of vines, looking all over, but there was no sign of the bright yellow insect.
From above came a low, distant rumble of thunder.
“Time to get moving!” Max said to himself. Not only was the sky threatening to erupt, something about the forest was giving him the creeps.
He tugged himself free from the tree vines and scrambled down a long, sloping root until he reached the forest floor. He walked across decaying, fallen leaves that were squishy and crumbly, like moldy old mattresses. He quickly learned to keep his feet on only the newest, firmest leaves.
Up ahead, he could see light through the gloomy trees—he hoped it was some kind of clearing. He hurried toward it, bounding from one leaf to the next.
Directly in his path lay a stretch of boggy ground. The marshy black earth didn’t look safe, so he had to clamber up and onto a fallen branch. Although it was only a branch, it felt like a tree to bug-sized Max.
As he struggled to climb up it, something below him made a rustling sound, and the bright reflection of eyes peered out from the undergrowth.
Uh-oh, he thought. I’m being watched!
Max felt a surge of fear. He heaved himself up on top of the branch. The leaves were moving. Something big was pushing through underneath them and it was coming his way!
Max let out a yell and slid down the other side of the branch. The marshy mud slurped up over his ankles, but he didn’t care. He pulled himself free and ran for his life.
The whatever-it-was behind him was still coming. Max could hear the whish-whish-whish of something large scurrying through the moldy leaves. He ran for the light ahead, praying it would mean shelter.
The next moment, he burst through the trees and ran out into the lit-up clearing. He stared at the amazing sight before him, then laughed in delight.
The Battle Bug camp!
But instead of the half-smashed, messy, thrown-together camp he remembered, this was a mighty, walled stockade, more like a medieval fortress. Bugs were trooping back and forth on the outermost battlements. Waiting there in the main archway was a group of bugs Max knew very well indeed: Buzz the hornet, Webster the trap-door spider, and Barton the titan beetle!
“Battle Bugs!” he yelled. “It’s me! Max!”
They all turned to look at him. Max stopped in his tracks. The bugs looked totally surprised. It was as if they weren’t expecting him at all.
“MAX!” they chorused in unison.
A twig snapped behind him. Max spun around—and the thing from the forest loomed up in front of him …
“Spike!”
“It is you, short stuff!” yelled Spike the emperor scorpion. “You’re back!”
“I don’t believe it!” Max said, relieved. “What were you doing out there in the forest? I thought you were a lizard.”
“I thought you were a lizard!” Spike said. “I was on forest patrol and I heard something crashing through the leaves making tons of noise, so I thought I’d better check it out.”
“No harm done,” Max said, giving Spike a friendly pat as they made their way toward the other bugs.
“What’s the problem this time?” he called out.
“Problem?” Buzz looked blank.
“The emergency,” Max said.
“Emergency?” Webster repeated.
“You know … the reason I’ve been called back to Bug Island!”
The bugs looked at one another, puzzled.
“We have no idea,” Barton said.
Max sighed. Something very weird was going on—there had always been a reason the book had called him back to Bug Island.
Max and the bugs trooped to the top of the tower in the midst of the new camp. There were many new bugs since his last visit. They had never seen a human being before. Thousands of bugs watched in fascination as he passed by.
“You’re all surprised to see me?” he asked his friends.
“We are!” whispered shy Webster. “Normally I don’t like surprises, but it is good to have you back.”
“You haven’t seen any lizards lately?”
“No one’s seen a lizard for ages,” said Buzz. “We run regular patrols. Everything’s quiet. We haven’t spotted so much as a newt.”
“I wonder why that dragonfly called me, then?” Max asked.
“What dragonfly?” asked Spike, rubbing his shiny head in confusion.
“A yellow one. It was trying to get my attention over in my world. And it flew through to Bug Island ahead of me, which has never happened before. I thought something was really wrong!”
“Maybe it was just a mistake,” Buzz said, shrugging her stripy thorax.
“Even if it was, I’m not complaining!” Max said. “This new camp you’ve built is amazing!”
“It’s good to live in peace for once,” Webster said. “We’re all having a great time.”
“Well … maybe not all of us,” Buzz said.
They all looked over to where General Barton stood quietly in the corner.
“Don’t mind me,” he muttered. “I’m just a general without an army to command.”
“Between you and me,” Webster whispered in Max’s ear, “I think he feels like the bugs don’t need him anymore.”
“Of course they do!” Max whispered back. He looked over at Barton.
Just as Max was trying to think of something to make Barton feel better, a tremendous crash of thunder shook the clearing. A fat glob of rain fell, and then another, bursting like a bombshell only a few feet away.
A rainstorm when you were bug-sized was serious business. Max and the bugs weren’t just at risk of getting wet. The raindrops were hitting like cannonballs, hammering down all around!
Suddenly, Barton sprang into action. “Take cover!” he shouted.
Barton snapped into action mode. He scrambled to a platform on the edge of the tower and shouted down to the assembled bugs:
“Everybody get under cover, NOW! All flying bugs, land immediately!”
A boulder-sized raindrop smashed down on top of Barton’s thick body armor, flattening the general. He struggled back to his feet as Max rushed over to make sure he was all right.
“I’m fine!” Barton gasped, wobbling slightly. “I just need to make sure all the bugs get to shelter.”
“I’ll take charge of the ground bugs,” Max said. “Spike, Webster, Barton, you take the rest to safety!”
“You got it!” Spike bellowed. He and Webster and Barton raced into the tunnels inside the main tower.
Max ran to the perch Barton had used and looked out over the rain-drenched camp.
Ranks of beetles, ants, and spiders all scurried around in chaos, trying to avoid the raindrops. Bugs were flung about in the wind as gusts swept through the camp.
“Keep moving!” Max yelled.
Then he heard a cry from below. One of the smaller ant sentries had been knocked off her lookout post by the wind. She flew through the air like a leaf and fell into a small hole on the battlements. She squirmed about helplessly, unable to get back on her feet.
“Hang in there, soldier,” Max cried above the wind. “I’m coming for you!” The other Battle Bugs were helping get the camp’s occupants under cover—it was up to him to do something. If the rainwater filled up the hole the ant had fallen into, she would drown.
He sprinted from the central tower across a bridge made from wasp’s nest material. He dodged out of the way of falling raindrops that exploded like bomb blasts. The raindrops had torn a giant hole in the bridge. There was no way for Max to get to the ant now!
“
Help!” the ant cried in a wheezy voice.
Max raced back the way he came, looking for another way over to the ant. A tangle of vines snaked above him. Suddenly he had an idea.
If I can just reach, Max thought. Then maybe I don’t need the bridge at all!
Max jumped and just managed to grab on to one of the vines with his fingertips. He yanked down until one side of the vine came loose. He stood on the edge of the battlement and took aim at the ant.
I hope this works, he thought.
With a whooping noise like Tarzan, he gripped the vine tight and leaped from the tower.
“Incoming!” he yelled. “Grab on!”
As the vine swung over, he clung to it with his right hand and reached out with his left. In one smooth motion he grabbed the stranded ant and swung back to the other side.
“Gotcha!” he cried, depositing the ant safely on dry land.
“Thanks!” she cried. She saluted and headed off to help evacuate more bugs underground.
Suddenly, Webster popped out of one of the tower doors.
“M-Max,” he stammered. “We’ve got incoming!”
“What is it, Webster?” Max asked frantically. “Not a lizard?”
“N-no—it’s one of ours!” Webster replied.
Max looked up into the stormy sky. A droning noise from above caught his attention. It was growing louder and louder, spiraling out of control in the blustery winds, trying to dodge the raindrops. He looked up and saw a winged insect coming in fast, rolling and tumbling in the air.
“Slow down!” he yelled at it. He waved his arms frantically. “You’re coming in way too fast! You’re going to crash—”
The creature barreled right into Max. Its long body turned too late to avoid him and knocked him sprawling, right over the tower ledge.
Max caught the ledge with one flailing hand and sank his fingers deep into the damp, termite-chewed clay. His heart pounding, he pulled himself back up and glared at the bug, which was now perched on all its legs.
“Careful!” he yelled. “I almost went over!”
His voice died away as he realized what he was looking at. The insect was bright yellow and had a big, bulbous head and great shimmering wings. It was a dragonfly—an Australian emperor, by the look of her. And though he couldn’t have said why, Max was certain she was the same dragonfly he’d seen by the river back in the human world.
