Emmet twisted around to find the other creature. This one was in the air, its limbs spread wide, gliding toward him. Emmet was surrounded, but he did what Calvin suggested, crouching at the waist. The hybrid in the air overshot him and nearly collided with the one to his front, instead crashing into the steel cage. The leathery sound he’d heard came from the winglike flaps of skin attached to its legs and sides.
He heard Calvin shouting and splashing toward him in the water, but didn’t dare take his eyes off the monster in front of him. Calvin was yelling something about the flashlight, but Emmet thought clubbing the thing with a steel tube might just make it madder.
“Wedge it in its mouth!” Calvin shouted. He was almost to Emmet’s side. The creature in front of him was eyeing Calvin like it hadn’t eaten in weeks. It reared its head back on its long neck and the huge mouth opened again. Emmet estimated its mouth held roughly four thousand teeth. He held the flashlight out in front of him like a shield, thinking he was going to die in a stinky, alligator-infested swamp, and how mad that made him. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.
Something jolted his arm with a force that nearly knocked him backward. He staggered but didn’t fall. The flashlight was torn from his grip, and he had to fight to stay on his feet. He opened his eyes to discover he was quite likely the luckiest human being on the planet at that particular moment.
The Pterogator staggered backward, shaking its head from side to side like Apollo might shake a rat. The Maglite, made of tungsten steel, was wedged in its mouth. It prevented it, for the moment at least, from closing its jaws. Emmet couldn’t help it. He let out a yelp of triumph.
“Yeah!” he shouted. “How do you like me now, you stupid … stupid … gator-bird thing!”
The next thing he knew, Calvin was beside him. The second beast was still stunned from its collision with the cage, and it hung there, its claws wrapped in the mesh.
Calvin shoved the first-aid kit into Emmet’s hands and as the creature hung there, he deftly maneuvered the boat hook over the top of its snout. The hook was solid steel, and bent into a half-circle shape, which made it easier to securely grasp ropes or poles when docking.
“What are you doing?” Emmet shouted, convinced now that Calvin had lost his mind. “Where’s Apollo?” He looked at the steps and saw Apollo attached by his leash to a hook stuck in the concrete wall. The little mutt was trying to break the world record for angry barking.
“If it’s like an alligator, the muscles to open its jaws are really weak. You can keep them closed with duct tape. But I don’t have any duct tape, so this is going to have to do.” He glanced over his shoulder at the other creature, which was now in the far corner of the bunker, still trying to dislodge the flashlight from its jaws.
“We’ve got to hurry,” Calvin said. “He’s handcuffed to the chair. A multi-tool is in my back pocket. Did I say hurry?”
Emmet reached into Calvin’s back pocket and pulled out a metal tool with multiple blades, pliers, and other assorted implements. He rushed around to the other side of the cage. The door was held in place by a simple latch. He lifted it and scooted inside. He set the first-aid kit on the floor and went to work freeing his father.
“Dad!” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this overjoyed. “I’m so happy to see you!”
“Happy later. Hurry now!” Calvin said. The creature was now wrestling a little bit and he struggled to keep its mouth closed with the boat hook.
Emmet gave his dad a quick once-over. He wore a few days’ growth of beard, and his skin was pretty pale. He smelled and needed a shower, but he looked otherwise healthy. Emmet had no idea how to free him, though. The cuffs were solid steel.
“What’s wrong?” Calvin asked through gritted teeth. The stunned Pterogator was recovering. He was using every bit of strength he needed to keep it at bay.
“It’s the handcuffs! I don’t suppose you have a handcuff key!” Emmet shouted.
“NO! Think of something!” Calvin said, fully occupied by wrangling the now thrashing creature.
Emmet looked around the cage. There was nothing he saw that would help. Then he looked at the chain. It wasn’t that thick; maybe with the tool he could pry apart one of the links. He jammed the pliers into a link near his dad’s wrist and pulled the handles apart. It wasn’t working.
“What are you doing?” Calvin shouted.
“Trying …” Emmet put everything he had into it and pulled on the handles of the multi-tool with all his might. The link popped open.
“YES!” he shouted.
“Quicker would be better!” Calvin shouted. The noise of splashing, the creature’s howls, and Apollo’s indignation were overwhelming. Emmet’s shout roused his father, who lifted his head and looked at him through cloudy eyes.
“Dad! Dad!” Emmet said. He slapped his father lightly on the cheek. He looked up when the cage rattled and he almost lost his balance. The Pterogator was really thrashing now. Calvin was struggling to keep it pinned against the cage with the boat hook. Its snout was flat against the steel mesh. But he wasn’t going to be able to hold it for long.
Emmet looked down at the first-aid kit. He pulled it open and found a roll of medical tape.
“What are you doing? We’ve got to get out of here. Stop fooling around! I can’t hold this thing much longer,” Calvin said.
Emmet checked the location of the other beast: still swinging its head back and forth trying to dislodge the flashlight. He darted out of the cage and hurried around to where Calvin was trying to keep the creature pressed against the side of the cage.
“Hold it,” Emmet said.
“What? No! Are you crazy?” Calvin said.
“Just a little bit longer!” Emmet yelled.
Calvin put all his weight into the hook, and pushed the creature’s head against the cage. Emmet pulled on the tape and wrapped a long section around the mouth. It was sloppy and it wouldn’t hold for long, but it would buy them some time.
“Okay,” Emmet said. “Help me with my dad!”
“Good thinking,” Calvin said. They rushed to the cage door. Emmet jammed the first-aid kit in his waistband and together they pulled Dr. Doyle through the door and to his feet. With one arm over each of their shoulders, they started toward the stairs. Apollo was nearly out of his mind to get to Dr. Doyle, and Emmet wondered if the leash would hold.
“Em … nut?” his dad mumbled.
“Yeah, Dad, it’s me,” Emmet said.
“Lots of bugs …” his dad mumbled.
“That’s right, Dad, somebody drugged you. We’ve got you now. It’s going to be okay,” Emmet said, then turned to Calvin. “Keep an eye on that other one. I have no idea how long that tape will hold,” Emmet said.
“No … Emnut … al … tors,” his father croaked the words out.
“It’s okay, Dad. We took care of them,” Emmet said.
Emmet was sore and sweat was pouring down his face. The stairway seemed a thousand miles away and his father’s legs were like rubber. But with each step, his confidence grew. Then he heard a loud cracking sound, and Calvin said, “Uh-oh!”
Emmet spared a second for a look behind them. The other Pterogator was finally free of the Maglite from its jaws. It opened its massive mouth and hissed. Tensing its muscles, it prepared to launch itself at them.
“LOOK OUT, CALVIN!” EMMET CRIED. NOT ONLY WERE the creatures strong, with big scary teeth, but the strength in their rear legs gave them enough power to launch themselves from the ground and glide over a short distance. All in all, Emmet would have been fine discovering this in a nature documentary, or by reading about it on the Internet, instead of witnessing it in person.
It leapt through the air with Calvin in its sights. The boat hook was no thicker than a broom handle, but Calvin swung it like a baseball bat. It connected with the critter’s head and shattered, breaking into dozens of pieces. Calvin was left with a small pointed stick in his hands.
The creature was more su
rprised than injured by the blow. But it sank to the ground and backed away from Calvin, confused by his reaction. It opened its jaws and hissed, ready to launch another assault.
“Run, Emmet, get your dad out of here!” Calvin shouted.
“You’ve got to come …” Emmet couldn’t get the words out before the beast’s head shot forward and snapped at Calvin. To Emmet’s complete surprise, he dodged out of the way. Calvin leapt on the creature’s back, wrapping his arms around the snout. The Pterogator went mad with rage, shaking and twisting and writhing, but Calvin held on like a rodeo cowboy.
“Emmet … get … your … dad …” He couldn’t finish. Instead, as the creature jumped around trying to throw him off, he jerked on the neck, bending it backward.
“Calvin, no! It’s too strong! Run!” But Calvin didn’t listen. With all his might, he pulled its neck farther back and the Pterogator settled, going to all fours, its neck bent at an odd angle. It thrashed again, then one final time, and went still. Calvin rolled forward so his body was holding the neck in place and quickly tore off his shirt, pulling it over the beast’s head. He jumped up and ran to the stairs.
“Hurry,” he said. He put Dr. Doyle’s free arm over his shoulder, unhooked Apollo, and wrapped the leash around his wrist. They scrambled their way up the stairs. The little dog was exhausted from barking and now merely huffed and growled, his body a tense ball of muscle.
“How did you … what did you … ?” Emmet was grunting with the effort.
“My uncles … at the Seminole reservation … taught me how …” They were halfway up the stairs. Dr. Doyle was like a dead weight and they were both nearly exhausted. “… to wrestle gators … you flip them over …”
“Pa’ ou …” Dr. Doyle answered. He was blinking and shaking his head. Slowly he was waking up.
“What’d he say?” Emmet asked.
“They pass out,” Calvin grunted.
“Why?”
“Can … we … discuss … later … ?” They could hear the creature with the taped mouth thrashing around below. Time to move.
“Hurry,” Calvin said. Dr. Doyle’s legs gained some life near the top. Emmet went through the hatch first, helping his dad climb out, with Calvin pushing him out from behind.
“The boat’s right over here, Dad. We’ll get you to the …”
“You won’t get him anywhere,” a voice said.
Standing between them and the canoe was a man dressed in a black jumpsuit, wearing a black ski mask covering all but his eyes.
He was also pointing a gun at them.
CALVIN TRIED PUSHING THE HATCH CLOSED.
“No!” Dr. Catalyst said. “Leave it open. We’ll be joined by a couple of my greatest creations in a few seconds.”
“They’re dead,” Calvin said. “Killed ’em.”
“I doubt that,” he said. “Not unless you had … well … what does it matter? You didn’t have it.”
“You must be Dr. Cat … sorry, what was it again?” Emmet asked.
The man’s head swiveled until he focused on Emmet.
“Catalyst,” he said, the gun pointed straight and level at Emmet’s chest.
“Whatever,” Emmet said.
No one said anything for a few seconds. Seeing the man who did this to his father made Emmet feel like he was standing outside himself. All the emotions of the past year and a half were boiling up inside him and it seemed like they were coming out of his ears. His vision darkened and in his mind he was somewhere else watching a cartoon version of the Emmet he thought he knew.
“‘Whatever’?” Dr. Catalyst said. “Surely that can’t be all you have to say. What did you think of my creations?”
“Your creations? What are you talking about? Those mini-dinosaurs? Not much,” Emmet said.
Dr. Catalyst chuckled. “I hardly think that’s the case. Magnificent, aren’t they?”
“They’re magnificent at sucking,” Emmet said. “Heck, Calvin wrestled one of them with one arm and turned its brain to jelly, and I took care of the other one with some tape. That’s right. I said tape. Some big creations. Both of them beat up by a couple of kids who don’t even have cell phones yet.” He looked at his dad, who he really wished would wake up all the way and think of something.
“By the way, Dad, how come I don’t have a cell phone?” he said. He turned his face away from Dr. Catalyst, toward his father and Calvin. As he did, he raised his eyebrows at Calvin.
Dr. Catalyst was silent a moment. It was hard for Emmet to get a read on him because he couldn’t see his face. Only his eyes, peering through the slit in the hood, gave any indication of his identity. They were dark brown.
“Funny. I’ve only just met you and already I’ve had enough of your mouth, boy,” Dr. Catalyst said. The gun was still pointing at Emmet’s chest.
Emmet tried to think of something, anything to get them out of this mess. The sun was coming up over the horizon now, and all he could think of was to keep Dr. Catalyst talking. Then Dr. Geaux would find out he and Calvin were missing and send the cavalry. But that could still be a while. His only option was trying to keep Dr. Catalyst riled up and hope he made some kind of mistake.
“My mouth? And truthfully, ‘Dr. Catalyst,’ what kind of name is that? I mean, I’ve seen your little Internet videos, and by the way, the videos of little kittens getting stuck in boxes are way more entertaining, but you make yourself out to be some kind of environmental supervillain and the best you can come up with is ‘Dr. Catalyst’? If you’re going to stick with the dopey name, you should at least get a cape or a better costume,” Emmet said. “This ninja look is so 1990s.”
“What are you doing?” Calvin whispered.
“Shh. It’s all part of my plan,” Emmet said.
“The get-us-killed plan?” Calvin whispered back.
“No, the other one …”
“Shut up! Stop talking, both of you,” Dr. Catalyst shouted at them. “The two of you have ruined everything. Years of work. Hundreds of thousands of dollars of —”
“Two words,” Emmet interrupted him. “Boo. Hoo. You kidnapped my dad, you big gob of spit!”
“I wasn’t …” Dr. Catalyst started to say, but was stopped by the sight and sound of the creatures roaring out of the hatch. Calvin jumped behind Emmet and Dr. Doyle, with a shout of surprise. As he did, quick as a flash, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, pushed the button for the ranger station, and dropped it into the grass at his feet. Emmet saw it all. He just hoped Dr. Catalyst hadn’t. And that the phone picked up a signal.
Apollo, who was straining at the leash, trying to get at Dr. Catalyst and tear him apart with all twenty pounds of his righteous indignation, turned his attention to the creatures. He found his voice and started barking again. Loudly. The creatures landed on the ground and stared back at the mutt.
Slowly they edged away from the Pterogators, who were staring back and forth at each other, the three of them, and Dr. Catalyst. Emmet thought the two ugly critters might be voting on which one of them to eat first. One had pieces of tape hanging from its snout; it had managed to break through somehow. The other one still looked a little sluggish. The boys kept moving, holding up Emmet’s dad, who for some reason appeared to have gone back to sleep. It must have been a strong drug in his system.
“Stop right there!” Dr. Catalyst commanded. He kept the gun pointed in their general direction, but his attention was now divided between his hybrids and the three of them.
The creatures lifted their necks and stared back at him now. There was something in the movement that just gave Emmet the creeps.
“ ’Birs … ’hine …” Dr. Doyle muttered, raising his head, his face twisted in concentration as he tried to will the drugs to wear off.
“What did you give my dad? He’s usually a lot more chatty than this,” Emmet demanded.
“He’s fine … will be … would have been fine, if you hadn’t interfered,” Dr. Catalyst said. Emmet stared at him, but his eyes kept dartin
g toward the creatures.
“Em … nut … birs … ’jjjiny …” Dr. Doyle could barely speak. But to Emmet it sounded like he’d said “Emmet. Birds. Heiny.” He was gaga. There weren’t any birds around and it was no time to be making jokes.
“What did he say?” Calvin whispered.
“I don’t —”
Then Emmet remembered something! He’d been out in the field with his father when they’d lived in Texas a few years ago. They were watching prairie hawks diving from high up in the sky, and his dad had talked about the acute vision of raptors — birds of prey.
They, like most birds, were attracted to shiny objects, his dad said. Could his dad be trying to tell him something he’d figured out about the creatures?
“Sorry, Dad,” Emmet said. He knew his father was trying to say something important, but he didn’t know what. “I’m not sure what you mean….”
“Shut up, I said! Stop talking. I need to think….” Dr. Catalyst was worried now, and trying hard not to show it.
Emmet watched the hybrids waddling back and forth at the hatch entrance. Apollo was nearly yanking Calvin’s arm off and his barking was starting to irritate the creatures. Apollo acted as if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to bite first.
Half bird. Half alligator, he thought.
“Em … ’jiny … on … ’atlyst.” His dad was trying hard to stand up, but he was weak and tired. His muscles wouldn’t work right. Even so, he was trying to move himself in front of Emmet and Calvin, but they held him in place.
“You better let us go!” Calvin said. “My mom is out looking for us. She’ll be here any minute.”
Emmet whispered, “Really? ‘My mom’? That’s going to scare him? ‘My mom will beat you up’? Why don’t …”
Then it came to Emmet. He still carried the first-aid kit, which was inside a thin, folding metal box. He pulled it out and turned it over in his hand. The rising sun reflected off it, and the glare flashed on the ground at his feet. He moved it along the ground until it flashed in the eyes of the closest hybrid. It blinked and opened its mouth and roared.
Menace From the Deep Page 13
