Rex

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Rex Page 3

by Cody B. Stewart


  I’ve done it! I’ve discovered a mutant alligator egg. The Cub Scouts are going to need to make up a new badge once I identify this sucker.

  Quickly, TJ stashed the large egg in his bucket and covered it up with some moss and mud. Sam was still snorting like a warthog, an ode to TJ’s muddy swamp creature appearance. Finally, mercifully, she stopped.

  “Okay,” Sam said, catching her breath. “You can come out now. I’m done.” She inched a little closer when TJ didn’t move. “Don’t go slinking off into the swamp just because you look like a mud monster now. Sure, it’ll take some time for society to adjust, but eventually everyone will accept you.”

  TJ darted past her, lugging his bucket behind him. He stuck his tongue out at her for effect, which only made him look more like a native of the swamp.

  “C’mon TJ, don’t be a wuss. I was just playing.”

  But TJ didn’t stop running until he burst through the wall of reeds and skidded to a halt at Mr. Redfield’s feet. Sam’s voice buzzed after him like a mosquito. “Beaumont, you left your partner behind! You’re out of the Cub Scouts for good!”

  Mr. Redfield looked TJ up and down. “What happened to you?”

  TJ shrugged. “I had an accident.”

  A sympathetic smile spread across Mr. Redfield’s face. “Gee, you think?” He sighed, shook his head. If anyone was going to emerge from the swamps covered in mud, it was going to be TJ…or his own Samantha. “Best get home and change before you catch cold. Do you need an escort?” The sleeping Hank instantly perked up, ready for the task.

  But TJ was already halfway down the trail before Mr. Redfield’s question reached his ears. “No thanks,” he yelled over his shoulder. On any other occasion TJ would have welcomed the chance to run and play with Hank, but this groundbreaking scientific discovery was more important. Way more! He could be the one to discover the key to defeating the impending swamp mutant invasion. Or he could discover how to tame the savage beasts and have his very own mutant alligator pet. Either way, running and playing with Hank would have to wait.

  TJ stripped off his shirt in the front yard and tossed it in the driveway. He was in the door and upstairs within seconds. Ellen didn’t register that her son was home until his bedroom door slammed shut. “The hike’s over already?” she called up the stairs.

  “Yep,” he yelled back. “At least for me it is.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but soon the washing machine won’t be.”

  Ellen cringed. “Did the swamp try to eat you again?” she said with a laugh.

  “You might say that,” TJ replied as he slipped off the rest of his soiled clothes and slam-dunked them into his hamper. Without even bothering to clean the mud off his face, TJ dropped down into his squeaky old desk chair, which slowly spun around, finally stopping in front of his computer. TJ cracked his knuckles and began typing on the keyboard.

  TJ heard his mom calling him, but her voice was muffled by all the wild possibilities jumping around in his head, but eventually her words cut through the mental clamor. “How many times have I told you not to leave your dirty clothes in the driveway?”

  TJ winced but kept typing. He performed an image search for “alligator eggs.” Dozens of pictures popped up. He took the giant egg out of the bucket, cleaned it off with a dirty sock, and scrolled through the search results. He propped the egg on his desk between a book and a slingshot and studied it, comparing it to the pictures. Alligator eggs were leathery and discolored. But the egg he found was kinda like an oval-shaped cue ball, perfectly white and flawless.

  A pang of disappointment pinched TJ’s gut. He clicked on the search bar and typed in “turtle eggs.” Dozens more pictures popped up, but not a single one of them was a match. In fact, none were even close. He did a search for “bird eggs” and found the same thing. Absolutely nothing.

  TJ slouched in his chair. No way was the Natural History Museum going to feature him in an exhibit if he couldn’t identify his discovery. “Maybe it’s time to bring in a consultant,” TJ sighed. “Guess I’ll have to share the glory after all.”

  A knock on his door sent TJ into a panicked frenzy. He instantly switched off his computer monitor, quickly but carefully tucked the egg back into the bucket, and slid the bucket under his desk, placing a T-shirt over the top for good measure. He tried to act natural when his mother opened the door.

  Ellen looked him over with a knitted brow. After a moment, “Okay, buster. Spill it. What did you do?”

  TJ looked at his mom like she had a third eye in the middle of her forehead. “What do you mean, what did I do? What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know. You look… weird.”

  “Now whose fault is that?” TJ said with a smirk. “That’s on you and Dad.”

  Ellen squinted, like she was trying to see through his lies. It didn’t work. “I’m heading to work at the bank. I’ll be back by dinner.” She scanned his room for signs of misbehavior. It was messy, as usual, but nothing looked particularly devious. “Try to stay out of trouble.”

  “Roger, dodger,” TJ said and gave her a thumbs up.

  He reached for his walkie-talkie the instant his mother closed the door. “Hey,” he whispered into the receiver. “When can you come over? I have something you gotta see.”

  Chapter Four

  TJ couldn’t stop his leg from shaking. All he could think about was that big, white…thing. Was it even an egg? It looked like an egg. Kinda. So that’s what TJ guessed it was. But after comparing it to other eggs, especially the eggs of creatures that lived in the swamp, now he thought maybe it wasn’t an egg after all.

  Maybe it’s a meteor.

  Or a beacon from an alien spaceship.

  Or a dragon’s tooth.

  Or a fossilized seed from Yggdrasil, the tree of life.

  TJ shook his head to keep the rampaging ideas from crashing together and making his head explode.

  Ellen stared across the dinner table at him, confusion written all over her face. “Something wrong?”

  TJ looked up from his plate like he just remembered she was there. “Huh? No. Nothing. I’m fine.”

  She was unconvinced. She squinted at him again like she could look into his mind and see what he was thinking.

  Lucky for me my brain shields are too powerful. She’ll never break through them.

  “Alright,” she said in supplication. “Then why don’t you eat some of your dinner?”

  The casserole—that’s what his mother called it—had been thoroughly dissected and poked at, but not more than a single bite had actually been eaten. Any more than that would qualify as self-inflicted torture.

  I need Mom to like me right now, TJ thought as he studied the so-called food sitting on the plate in front of him.

  I could swear that stuff changed forms a few times.

  TJ stifled a laugh.

  C’mon TJ, get your head in the game. Making fun of her cooking won’t help the situation. You need to be on her good side in case that thing upstairs explodes or releases some toxic spore, and you accidentally start the zombie apocalypse or whatever.

  TJ took a deep breath and gripped his fork like it was his trusty sword and he was about to march valiantly into battle.

  You can do this. Onward, to victory!

  TJ attacked the casserole like a mighty Spartan warrior, shoveling it down without mercy, as Ellen looked on in astonishment. Before long, TJ had cleared his entire plate. He slammed his fork down on the table and punched the sky.

  “Good,” he mumbled through a full mouth. The last bite fought him going down like he was in the WWE and this was the big-ticket championship cage match. It continued to fight him after it was swallowed. He almost tapped out but held on instead. That morsel would simply not concede defeat.

  “TJ, what’s gotten into you?”

  “Are you not entertained?” TJ replied, channeling the gladiator, Maximus.

  “It wasn’t going anywhere.”


  “Just wanted to get it down before the taste caught up with me.” He immediately realized his mistake. Snarky comments would not help the situation, but that one just couldn’t be helped.

  Ellen death-stared him over the fork hovering by her mouth. “Thanks, TJ. You try working two jobs and being a gourmet chef too. See how you fare.” Her lip curled as she looked at the food on her fork. “I have to admit, this is pretty awful. But that doesn’t excuse you being rude.” She got up from the small table, scraped her plate into the garbage. “I’ll bring you something back from Lulu’s.”

  That brought a smile to TJ’s face—and relief to his suffering stomach. That’s when a rhythmic knock sounded at the door, telegraphing who was on the other side.

  “Come in, Sam,” TJ and Ellen called in unison.

  Sam’s exuberance was obvious as she bounded through the door, giving Ellen pause. TJ silently gestured for her to be cool.

  “What are you two mischief mavens up to tonight?” Ellen asked with a skeptical tone.

  TJ looked anywhere but his mother’s eyes. “Just homework and studying. A child’s education is the key to his future.”

  Sam’s horrified expression was mirrored by the clench in TJ’s gut. He winced and prayed to everything holy that his mother had bought his unrehearsed honor student routine.

  She clearly didn’t, but she was late for work.

  Saved by the clock!

  “I’m going to call your father,” Ellen said to Sam as she tied her apron. “Double check that he knows you two are running wild over here without adult supervision.”

  Sam nodded and smiled like a sweet little daisy.

  “Be back later,” Ellen called as she stepped out the front door. “And please—”

  “Stay out of trouble. I know, Mom,” TJ said, as if even the mere suggestion of trouble was absurd.

  He danced around like he had to pee, anxiously waiting for her to close the door. As soon as he heard the click of the lock, he bolted upstairs with Sam right on his heels. Neither spoke until they were safe inside TJ’s room with his homemade lock contraption firmly in place.

  TJ slid the bucket out from under his desk with great care, pulled away the t-shirt masquerading as a lid, and took out the giant egg. He set it down on the bed so Sam could examine it.

  “Holy gator egg,” she said with hushed amazement.

  “Nope,” TJ replied.

  “Blue heron?”

  He shook his head.

  “Snapping turtle?”

  He shook his head again.

  “I’m stumped. What the heck is it?”

  “I have absolutely no clue.”

  Sam’s eyes bulged. “You don’t know? Mr. Encyclopedia himself doesn’t know what kind of egg it is?”

  “I guess you could say I have egg on my face,” TJ said, laughing at his own joke.

  “Very punny,” Sam said dryly. “Seriously, you really don’t know?”

  “I searched every kind of egg there is and none of them matched.”

  Sam ran her hand over it, still staring wide-eyed. “So smooth. Almost too smooth. Maybe it’s fake.”

  TJ cocked an eyebrow. “A fake egg in the marsh? Really?”

  “Yeah, I guess that is kinda ridiculous. But then, what else could it be?”

  TJ returned the egg to the bucket and tucked it back under the desk. He began rifling through his cluttered closet, tossing miscellaneous objects onto his bed. “I have too many ideas to even talk about.” He sorted the pile of stuff into two groups and then began shoving them into two backpacks. Flashlights. Coils of rope. The Prussian helmet—obviously. He’d much prefer his yellow hardhat, but there was too much heat on that thing right now. “That’s why we’re going back to get another look.” He squatted down and pulled a long, rectangular box from under his bed. He tossed it open and pulled out a rope ladder. He took extra care in latching the rope ladder to the metal eyebolts protruding from the sill of his open window before lowering it to the ground.

  “Why are we using a rope ladder?” Sam asked. “Why can’t we just go out the front door?”

  “Duh. Because we might need to make a speedy return without compromising the security of the room,” TJ said with a defensive edge. “Besides, it’s awesome. Stop trying to ruin this.”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “Whatevs.”

  They scaled down the side of TJ’s house like ninjas and hit the ground at a sprint. They sped away so quickly, they didn’t hear the strange thumping noise coming from under TJ’s desk.

  In less than a minute they were on the trail to the swamp, moving quickly and speaking quietly, afraid their voices would betray the clandestine nature of their mission. They stopped at the spot along the swamp’s edge where Mr. Redfield had rested on the stump.

  TJ scanned the area with his flashlight. “It was around here somewhere.” He spotted the place where the reeds were bent over—the place he had run through earlier in the day. “There.”

  Despite their gnawing curiosity, they proceeded with caution. Both were more than a bit nervous about venturing through the swamp at night, though neither would ever readily admit that to the other. They both jumped at a sudden splash nearby then laughed when they realized it was just a frog.

  “I’m a bit jumpy,” Sam said, relieved.

  TJ rolled his eyes. “You and your puns.”

  They continued on, moving deeper into the thicket of reeds.

  “Maybe if we can find a nest or something, we can get more clues about what that thing is.” TJ carved a path through the dark with his flashlight.

  “We should also be on the lookout for signs of alien tractor beams or broken crates labeled Top Secret,” Sam added.

  They winced at every slushy footstep, certain each noise would awaken some long slumbering swamp creature. Suddenly, something in the near distance glistened in the flashlight’s beam.

  “There!” TJ whispered, pointing. “Maybe it’s…” The glistening thing disappeared with a little splash before he could finish. “Crap. Just another frog.”

  Ripples ran through the water, radiating out from where the frog had splashed. The ripples grew stronger, way too big to be caused by something so small. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a frog after all.

  “Do you see that?” TJ asked.

  “Yeah. What do you think—”

  The swamp exploded less than foot in front of TJ and Sam. Murky water rained down on them as yellow eyes the size of silver dollars reflected in their flashlights, like miniature suns surrounded by black storm clouds. But the eyes weren’t nearly as scary as the teeth. Huge, white chompers so sharp they looked like they could rip the whole world to shreds.

  TJ and Sam froze in place and everything started to move in slow motion. Each step of the massive alligator’s stubby legs seemed to take days. Its guttural hiss went on forever. Then time sped up.

  And so did the alligator.

  “Run!” Sam shouted as she pulled on TJ’s arm. They didn’t even feel their legs moving or their hearts pumping faster than they’d ever pumped before. Their brains shut down and their bodies took over, like some sort of life or death autopilot.

  Hey, we learned about this, TJ started to think for some strange reason, no doubt his mind’s way of coping with the terrifying scenario. It’s called fight or flight. I’m as brave as a lemming!

  They ran into the dark without thinking of where they were headed, just as long as they were headed away from the monstrous reptile with an eye for pickled human. Unfortunately, in their blind haste, they missed the trail and ended up slogging through the marsh. Their legs and lungs started to burn with the added effort of trudging through ankle-deep mud. They were forced to climb over a large fallen tree, but that turned out to be a good thing as the gator took some time navigating around it. Now, if they could just find the trail again… Find some solid ground… Then maybe they’d have a chance.

  Suddenly, TJ stopped running. He did this automatically, not by conscience effort, and he wasn’t qu
ite sure why. But then he heard Sam’s scream and realized it had been a reaction. TJ looked back and his eyes bulged in horror. Sam had sunken down to her waist in a mud hole.

  “TJ!” she yelled, her eyes wild and frantic. She struggled to get free, but the mud wouldn’t let go.

  TJ grabbed her arm and pulled with every ounce of strength he had left in his body. She budged a little but not enough. Meanwhile, the alligator was closing in. Fast! Its gaping mouth wide open, ready to swallow everything. And by everything, that meant Sam!

  TJ stared down the reptile’s throat. It was endless. A tunnel. No, even more endless than that. A black hole!

  “Run, TJ! Save yourself!” Sam screamed.

  “No! I’m not leaving you!” TJ yelled back even louder. “I’ll never leave you!”

  Sam and TJ squeezed hands and clamped their eyes shut.

  Goodbye world. It’s been—

  Thunder ripped the sky in half—two deafening booms. Then came the retreating sound of hissing leather scurrying across the mud. TJ and Sam opened their eyes half expecting to see pearly gates and angels—if they were lucky—but instead saw the trail of a massive gator leading back toward the water.

  Sam’s jaw quivered. “Wh-wh-what happened?” She looked at TJ in bewilderment. “How’d you do that?”

  TJ shrugged. “Mind bullets, I think.”

  Sam hugged him. “TJ, I—”

  “More like real bullets,” a deep voice said from behind them.

  Sam released her embrace of TJ and they both took in the tall, shadowy man standing a few yards away, wisps of smoke still curling from his large revolver’s long barrel. “Real, lucky bullets.”

  Suddenly, TJ found new strength. Super hero strength, or so it seemed. Of course, it was just an extra surge of adrenaline, but it was way cooler to call it super hero strength.

  Unusual egg-like things.

  Rampaging alligators.

  Girl-eating sinkholes.

  Mysterious alligator assassins.

  Enough!

  TJ pulled Sam’s arms like he was trying to lift Thor’s hammer. She popped free with a loud sucking sound, and off they ran.

 

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