by R. McGeddon
“Professor?” Arty cried. “But he was supposed to be raising the alarm!”
“I don’t think he needs to raise an alarm,” said Emmie. “Everyone knows by now that Sitting Duck is under attack.”
Further screams went up, and the spiders hissed with glee. Any minute now, poor Professor Stix would go the same way as Mr. Nerdgoober and half the other residents of the town.
“We have to do something,” Arty cried.
“Sam?” Emmie asked. “Any ideas?”
Sam mumbled a reply and looked on in panic—but Emmie wasn’t having any of that.
“Sam, come on!” she cried, shaking him. “Sitting Duck needs you. What happened to the hero champ we used to know? What about the guy who wanted to be just like Armitage Caruthers: fighting the bad guys, defeating evil, and being an all-around awesome hero and Sitting Duck legend? What happened to the guy who would do anything to stop his best friend Emmie from having to parade around in a dress?”
“Hey,” Arty complained. “If you don’t have to, then I will!”
Emmie’s speech seemed to stir something inside Sam. He looked out from the tree and caught a glimpse of old one-eyed Armitage Caruthers, proudly atop his bronze horse in the center of Sitting Duck. Once upon a time, he would’ve given anything to be like him, and now he was scared of a few lousy spiders. Caruthers had faced much worse—ahem, evil mermaids—and lived to tell the tale.
It was as if a light had come on in Sam’s eyes. His brain’s hero machinery was finally kicking into gear, like a robot getting a software upgrade. But he wasn’t a robot; he was a hard-core hero champ. Sitting Duck was his town, and he wasn’t about to let it be overrun be eight-legged freaks. He picked up his baseball bat and jumped from the tree.
“Sam,” Arty cried. “What are you—”
But Sam was running and wasn’t listening to Arty at all.
“For Albertus, the original Sitting Duck!” he cried, marauding his way through a crowd of hungry spiders. He raised his bat and thwacked away a hungry-looking wandering spider—its fangs clacking in anger. A jumping spider came next. It leaped to and fro, using its long legs as springs to bounce. Sam didn’t hesitate for a minute. He sprang up onto a nearby bench and launched himself into the air, bringing down his bat with a satisfying crack.
“He’s gone full beast mode,” cried Emmie. “That’s my boy!”
Sam continued on, bashing spiders left and right, until he reached Professor Stix. Just as Stix was about to have his head chewed off by a crazed tarantula, Sam swooped in. He dived under the tarantula and knocked out its legs from under it. The tarantula crumpled and began veering sideways like a hairy Leaning Tower of Pisa. Sam scrambled out of the way as its burly body crashed down onto the ground.
* * *
Sam’s Hero Levels
Hero Level Normal: Sam is an all-around nice guy and charming fella, witty and wisecracking and always popular with old ladies and shaggy dogs.
Hero Level Silver: The enemy approaches and Sam adopts his ready pose, waiting like a ninja to strike
Hero Level Kick-Butt: Sam channels all the rage of Sitting Duck into a powerful force and unleashes it on his enemies
Hero Level Beast Mode: Er, I’ve never seen this before. But I think it’s gonna be good.
* * *
“Professor!” he barked. “Help has arrived! This way to safety!”
Professor Stix gratefully took Sam’s hand, and together they made their way out of the square and back toward Arty, Emmie, and Felicia. Sam held Stix’s hand aloft in triumph, and his smile seemed to stretch way off his face and out into the space beside him.
Arty and Emmie cheered. Sam had finally mustered up his old courage and faced his fear.
“I’m back!” He beamed. “And those spiders are dead meat!”
CHAPTER TEN
Sam, Arty, Emmie, and Felicia picked up their bicycles and made their way out of the town center. After depositing a terrified Professor Stix with the local police, they headed back toward Sam’s house. Now that he was back in action, Sam was determined to save Sitting Duck once more. I for one am glad he pulled himself together. I missed Sam the hero.
Sam held on to his bike with one hand and swung his baseball bat with the other. “Yee-haw,” he cried.
Arty, Emmie, and Felicia struggled to keep up. Sam was a man on a mission, swiping spiders’ legs out from under them and cackling through the streets. But no matter how many spiders he stopped, there’d always be another one in its place.
“C’mon, guys,” he yelled. “Let’s head over to my place. We need supplies. We’ve gotta figure out a way to stop this thing.”
When they finally made it to Sam’s house, they ditched the bikes in his front garden and barreled through the front door. Sam thumped right into his dad, Mr. Saunders.
“Oh, Sam, you’re just in time!” he gasped. “Ballroom Dance Stars is on, and I know you won’t want to miss it! You might get some tips for the school dance!”
The kids stared up at him, aghast. Mr. Saunders was the mayor, supposedly in charge of keeping everyone safe and looking out for the welfare of the town.
“Err, Dad,” Sam began. “The spiders?”
Mr. Saunders peeked out of the window. “Hmm, they are rather large for this time of year. Don’t worry, son, they can’t get you in here.”
The kids just looked at one another, shaking their heads. Honestly, adults can be so silly sometimes, it’s hard to believe. Good thing I’m not an adult.
Okay, I am, but least I’m one of the good ones.
“Sam senior!” came a voice from the living room. “You’re going to miss the cha-cha.”
Mr. Saunders did a little jig and strolled back to the living room. “Well, your loss, kids,” he said. “Mind how you go with that baseball bat. You don’t want to get yourself into mischief.”
“Right, Dad,” Sam replied, and bounded upstairs with the others. Sometimes I question the decision making of parents who would rather be watching reality TV than saving the world. But what do I know?
* * *
The kids gathered in Sam’s bedroom. As always, it was down to them to save Sitting Duck.
“Are we absolutely sure we have to do something to stop the spiders?” Felicia asked. “This could be my one shot at the Nobel Prize.”
* * *
Dance Moves for the End of the World
If the end of the world is nigh and you’d prefer to dance your way out of a pickle, look no further than these nifty dance moves:
• The Despairing Owl: Cover your face with your wings (or arms, if you have them) and rock back and forth on the nearest tall tree you can find.
• Stealth-Fighter Shuffle: Bounce up and down like a curious meerkat, while you scope out the landscape and the threat you face.
• The Broken-Nose Break Dance: Dodge your apocalyptic enemy with nifty footwork, and hit back with a spinning kick.
• Save-the-Day Samba: Dance to the rhythm of your sweet, sweet victory.
* * *
“Er, we definitely do need to do something!” Emmie barked. “Those things nearly had us for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!”
Sam racked his brains. The first thing they needed to do was to protect the citizens of Sitting Duck. If the adults couldn’t do it, then they would have to do it for them.
“I suggest we head out into the fray,” he said, “to assess the situation.”
The others nodded solemnly.
“But first,” he said, “we’re raiding the secret stash.”
Sam led them back down the stairs and through the back door. From the living room, they could hear cries of “wonderful,” “magnificent performance,” and “I’ve never seen anyone dance like that since Cinderella turned professional!” Sam ignored the “fun” his parents seemed to be having and led his team of heroes down to the shed.
He cracked open the door and peered inside with his flashlight. “Everyone grab something,” he said. �
��We’re gonna need weapons.”
Emmie grabbed a four-pronged pitchfork, Arty wielded a shovel, and Felicia picked up a dainty trowel.
“What?” she said as everyone looked her way. “I’m sure it’ll work just as well.”
Emmie glared at her. “Your heart’s not in this at all, is it?”
Sam hurried them out of the shed and out onto the streets. Night was falling in Sitting Duck, and the dusky gloom made the atmosphere a bit more terrifying. Not for me, obviously; I’m not afraid of anything. Mice maybe … rats … tall trees … people with rolled-up sleeves … saying the alphabet backward … mushrooms. But other than that, nothing.
The point is, on Sam’s street, everything was quiet and eerie, and even the shadow of hedges in the streetlights looked like long-limbed spiders ready to pounce. Just to complete the effect, a scream pierced the night like a pin in a balloon. A man in a dingy-colored jumpsuit ran toward them at full pelt.
“Oh,” said Arty. “It’s Marty Hiller the Cockroach Killer. Hello, Marty!”
Emmie nudged him in the ribs. “It’s not time for hellos, Arty—look!”
Behind Marty came two giant spiders. They looked like terrifying Brazilian wandering spiders. Usually, Marty was the one doing the bug killing, since he had his own pest-removal van that blitzed around town getting rid of all sorts of unwanted critters. But now it seemed that the minibeasts were getting their revenge. Funny how things turn out, am I right?
“Run, children, run!” he screamed as he pelted toward them. “The end is nigh!”
Sadly, Marty wasn’t watching where he was going as he sprinted through the streets, and he smashed head-on into a lamppost. He bounced off it and staggered around, clutching his head. Sam could practically count the stars whizzing around it. He and Arty rushed toward him to help, but before they could, one of the spiders sank its fangs deep into Marty, paralyzing him with its toxic venom.
“NOO!” Arty cried, swiping at the spider with his shovel. One of the spider’s legs was sliced clean off and went spinning across the street.
As Arty and Sam challenged another spider, Felicia and Emmie dealt with the one that had attacked Marty. Felicia half-heartedly threatened the spider with her trowel, which promptly knocked it out of her hand. It also knocked her off her feet, sending her back spinning across the road.
“B-b-b-but,” she began as it towered over her, “I created you! Don’t you know what a miracle of modern science you are?”
Just as the spider was about to clamp its fangs, it caught a scent on the air. Its legs bristled, and it moved over to where Felicia’s backpack lay on the ground.
“The vial,” she shouted. “It wants more feed.…”
Before the spider had a chance to grow any bigger or feed any more, Emmie launched herself at it with her pitchfork. She drove the blades right into its back, and it collapsed onto the ground.
“That’s how it’s done!” She laughed.
Meanwhile, Sam and Arty had dispatched their own spider, and they came running over to Felicia and Emmie.
“Marty is no more,” Arty said sadly.
“The bugs finally beat him, did they?” Emmie said.
“Looks like it,” said Sam. “But they’re not going to beat us.…”
He surveyed the scene and pointed down the road. At the bottom of the street, Marty’s van lay ripe for the picking.
“… Because I’ve got an idea!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sam held a flashlight between his teeth and struggled with the zipper of his jumpsuit. He, Arty, Emmie, and Felicia were safely in the back of Marty’s van, and they were getting ready for bug warfare.
“Gotcha!” he cried as he zipped up the suit.
He heard a muffled cry from the other corner of the van.
“Mmfur grumpifrr kumpilow…”
Arty, bless him, had gotten himself stuck upside down in his suit. Emmie and Felicia yanked at it until his head finally popped out the top like a startled gopher.
“All good,” he huffed, a little out of breath and his hair a lot wild.
Marty’s van was a boon for bug killers like them—it was full of everything they’d need to take the spiders down for good. Once they’d suited up, they filled their backpacks with big plastic containers full of bug poison and attached metal spray nozzles. It’d be just like shooting a water gun or a flamethrower, only much more deadly.
“Eat your heart out, Ghostbusters.” Sam laughed. “We’re the Spiderbusters!”
Arty let out a groan. “Oh man!” he said. “My suit is on the wrong way.”
So much for a hard-core band of Spiderbusters. Arty quickly rearranged his jumpsuit and tried to look as tough as possible.
Emmie was eager to get down to business. “So what’s the plan, Stan?”
“The name’s Sam, actually,” Sam said seriously. “You should know that by now.”
Emmie began to explain that it was just a saying, but Sam kept on talking.
“The plan,” Sam continued, “is this…”
Sam guessed that the spiders were attracted to the potion Felicia had created. It must be supertasty to them, like Pop-Tarts or soda or that delightful cookie dough you’re not supposed to eat raw but you do anyway. So, what they had to do was use it against them. Maybe if they could create enough of it, they could lure the spiders into one place and blast them into next week. And if they were lucky, next month.
“Er, so what’s the plan?” Felicia asked.
“Oh, right, yeah,” Sam said. Thing is, he hadn’t actually said what the plan was; I just explained it to you. He must have forgotten or something. Anyway, he then actually said the plan out loud and made sure the group was all on the same page of the book, as it were.
“Right!” Arty agreed. “In that case, what are we waiting for?”
Together, they jumped out of the van and back into the streets.
Sam, encountering a smaller house spider, hit it with his baseball bat, then, when it was staggering, he let rip with his spray soaker. The poison shot forth in a deadly mist and felled the spider instantly.
“Yee-haw,” Sam said. “I think this plan is gonna work!”
Together, they rode through the Sitting Duck streets and back toward the school. By now it was pitch-black and the whole place was deserted. Smashed windows littered the ground where spiders had been up to no good.
“Let’s make our way to the lab,” Arty said. “Then we can work on the formula.”
All four of them crept inside the school, which looked like the set of an apocalypse movie. Lockers were open and papers were strewn across the floor. School was definitely out.
Ahead of them in the corridor, they heard a familiar sound: the low hiss of an oncoming spider.
“Get in position,” Sam yelled. “Now!”
Sam kneeled down, and Emmie stood beside him. Arty and Felicia stood on either side, ready for the takedown. Felicia finally seemed to realize that if she didn’t do something about the spiders, the spiders would do something about her. By which I mean they’d eat her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
The spider came around the corner, the same spider that had left Sam and Emmie hanging above the gym—the same spider Sam had been terrified of not so long ago. It was the golden orb weaver.
Sam smiled. “Not today, bozo. FIRE!”
As the golden orb weaver lumbered toward them, all four of them sprayed cascades of poison, and the spider let out a piercing cry as it fell under the deluge. It scrambled about on its legs like my uncle Pete at a wedding reception, but ultimately it fell under its own weight. (Again, like my uncle Pete at a wedding reception.)
“Gotcha, you jerk!” Sam cried. “Now come on. Let’s get to the lab!”
“There goes my beautiful creation,” Felicia sighed.
“Don’t worry,” Emmie huffed. “There are plenty more where that came from.”
The four of them jumped over the body of the giant spider and barreled through the corridors. Felic
ia tried to gather up some of the golden silk from the walls and floors, but Emmie dragged her along.
“B-but it’s a souvenir,” she wailed. “And it might make us rich, too!”
Emmie was having none of it: “Unless you’re going to use the silk to make Arty a new dress, then we don’t have time for all that,” she said. “Although, that might be a good idea.” She laughed, looking toward Arty. “Sam is back in action.”
Arty tried to look unconcerned, but it was hard. It wasn’t like he couldn’t pull it off, he told himself, especially if the dress was red—he always looked good in red.
“Yeah, well…” He tried to think of a comeback, but had nothing.
Instead, Felicia jumped in. “I’ll still dance with you, even if you have to wear a dress.”
Arty blushed. Even though she was a maniacal scientist girl who created world-threatening spiders, he thought it might be quite nice to dance with Felicia. Stupid nice hair and teeth.
Finally, they made it to the lab. The windows were blasted out and the place was a mess, but it still had everything they needed. They skirted poor Mr. Nerdgoober—or what was left of him—and made their way to the benches.
Felicia and Arty got to work; Emmie slammed the door shut.
* * *
How to Make a Gigantification Potion:
Well, like Felicia said, you’ll need:
• Benign atoms
• Radioactive quark compounds
• Essence of sunshine and two crushed walnuts
But you’ll also need secret ingredients:
• Purified water droplets from the mystical Fountain of Youth (alternatively, water from a tap)
• One silver toenail from the mythical phoenix of Mount Mysticus
• Two electrons captured from the nearest host star (available at all good atomic supermarkets)
