by Jack Patton
“Let’s head back to the main forces, Spike. Double-time!”
Max wheeled Spike around and headed for the rear ranks of the bug army. He found the cicada battalion still playing their marching song for all they were worth.
“Ready, guys? Let’s go!”
He led the cicadas right into the heart of the bug army. Spike shuddered. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Cicadas can’t fight for beans!”
“They don’t need to,” Max said, as the bird squadrons came closer and closer. They were doing a power dive. Good. That should make this work all the better.
“You might want to cover your ears, Spike,” he said. “If you have any, that is.”
“Eh?” said Spike, completely baffled.
“Incoming!” roared Barton, as the flycatchers came swooping in for the kill.
Max turned to the cicadas. “Ready … three, two, one, NOW!”
As one, the cicadas blasted out a shriek so loud and high-pitched that Max thought his eardrums would burst. It sounded exactly like a sonic bird-scaring device he’d once heard on a visit to the city. Hopefully it would work just as well this time.
He covered his ears to block out the noise. Bugs and lizards alike stopped fighting and groaned in pain, writhing around at the terrible noise.
But the effect on the birds was astonishing. As if an invisible force had struck them, they rebounded backward into the air, wheeling and flapping chaotically. Their formation broke apart. Some of them, hurtling too fast to stop, spun out of control and slammed down onto the battlefield.
“Keep it up!” Max shouted to the cicadas. “It’s working!”
In seconds, General Komodo’s secret weapon was shattered. The flycatchers bolted from the field in complete disarray. Underneath their tough appearances, the flycatchers were cowards. A blast of screaming sound had broken their nerve completely.
“He’s done it,” said Barton, as he watched the last of the flycatchers vanish over the horizon. “Max has defeated the birds!”
General Komodo let out a roar of anger. “Come back, you feathered fools! We had a deal! Keep fighting!”
He might as well have been shouting at the clouds. The birds were gone.
“No matter,” seethed the giant reptile. “Secret weapon or not, I can still defeat you. All troops, attack!”
“But, General,” stammered a cowering chameleon, “the flycatchers were supposed to be our air support! Without them, the bugs might—”
“SILENCE!” With a whack of his huge tail, Komodo sent the chameleon flying into the battle. “When your general tells you to fight, you fight!”
Max rode up next to Barton. They watched the lizards attack, but it was clear there was no real battle plan. Only fear of Komodo was pushing them forward. This was the bugs’ chance!
“Send in the mantises,” Max urged Barton. “They can fly short distances, right? They can get right behind the lizards’ lines and attack from behind.”
“Yes! The mantises, of course. And with the flycatchers gone, there’s nothing to stop them!”
Barton gave the order. The mantis brigades launched themselves into the air. They couldn’t fly far, but they didn’t have to.
The frightened lizards soldiers suddenly found they were surrounded. Mantises kept dropping out of the sky—like paratroopers, thought Max—and striking them with their strong claws before they could react.
Confusion spread through the lizard ranks. Many of the lizards couldn’t see their commanding officers, let alone hear them, because of the sheer numbers of bugs rushing over them. One by one, aching from stings, bites, and claw wounds, they gave up the fight and ran.
General Komodo looked to the left and right. His troops were running. Against all odds, the bugs had driven them back. His expression turned from disbelief to bitter resignation.
“Another time, Barton!” he hissed, turning his scaly back.
Then away he went, lumbering over the Pincer Plains toward the sea, his broken and wounded army trailing after him.
“I’ll be waiting,” Barton called. “As always.”
“And so will I,” Max said, patting Barton’s gleaming carapace.
A cheer went up from the bug army, as the lizards retreated in disarray. The cicadas struck up their fighting song again, but this time, nobody complained. Those bugs had proved themselves beyond a shadow of a doubt.
As the lizards slithered off, Max saw a welcome sight emerge from the ground ahead of them: “Lumens and Pulsar!” he cried. Max had thought he would never see them again.
“Never leave a bug behind.” Glower smiled triumphantly, as Lumens dragged Pulsar across the plains to safety.
Now that the danger was past, Max knew he had to leave, and so did the bugs. Webster, Buzz, Spike, and Barton gathered to say good-bye. Glower came and joined them.
“We are all in your debt,” Glower said.
“Your quick thinking has saved Bug Island once again,” Barton added. “We will miss you, Max. I couldn’t be prouder of you if you were my own grub.”
Max laughed, imagining what his mom would think of that. “Bye for now, gang. I hope you won’t need me too soon!”
He pulled the magnifying glass from his pocket and held it up to the sky. Immediately, powerful forces dragged him up, sucking him back through whirling, spiraling space until …
Thump. He landed flat on his back, staring at the locker room ceiling back at Burgdale Elementary.
He picked himself up and dashed out of the locker room, praying the game wasn’t over. The players were heading back onto the court. Coach Baker was yelling his name. He was just in time!
Max sprinted onto the court with a fast glance at the scoreboard: tied again, now at 34! With only twenty seconds left to play … and Green Park’s ball! The whistle blew, and a Green Park player threw the ball in from the sidelines to his captain.
The Green Park captain quickly dribbled it down to the Burgdale hoop, with a smirk that said he considered the game as good as over. He wasn’t prepared for Max to blindside him and leap in at the last moment like a mantis, snatching the ball away.
“What the … who taught you that move?” the boy cried.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” said Max.
Then he was off, racing down to the other end of the court, to the Green Park hoop. A step, a leap—swish! Nothing but net!
The buzzer sounded. Coach Baker leaped to his feet. So did everyone in the bleachers. “That’s the game!” the coach cheered, flinging his hat into the air. He strode past the openmouthed rival coach to join the crowd of players and fans who were lifting Max onto their shoulders.
Max caught a glimpse of the Green Park captain’s scowling face. The boy stuck out his tongue. Just for a second, he looked a lot like a certain Komodo dragon Max knew all too well.
Max grinned. Victory was sweet—especially when you got a double helping!
Praying Mantis
Praying mantis is the common name for a whole order of insects called the Mantidea. They come in all sorts of different shapes and sizes, from the dead leaf mantis, which camouflages itself as a crisp, brown leaf, to the glass mantis, which is completely see-through.
But one thing they all have in common is the trait that gives them their name. The unusual angle of the praying mantis’s front legs makes it seem like these insects are deep in prayer.
Mantises start off small, eating tiny flies and insects. However, as they get bigger and bigger, their appetites grow, too, and then nothing’s off the menu. Mantises have been known to eat small lizards, scorpions, frogs, snakes, and even fish.
Cicada
The cicada is a fascinating and diverse species, with some groups known for their high-pitched “singing,” and others for their epic hibernations.
The vast majority of cicadas’ lives start underground, where they mature before emerging after a few months or years when they’re ready. The periodical cicada is much more unusual. This insect emerges from
the ground with the rest of its population at exactly the same time.
Since the cicadas can’t communicate with one another underground, biologists are still baffled as to how they manage to surface at exactly the same time. However, some believe that the cicadas are able to use the tree roots they eat as they grow to determine the passage of time aboveground.
Once they do emerge, they behave like any other cicadas in the race to create the next generation. The males’ “singing” is designed to attract females but also has the handy by-product of being able to deter predators. In fact, the noise is one of the loudest in the insect world!
Turn the page for a Battle Bugs sneak peek!
Max Darwin shuffled down the driveway toward his mom’s car, keeping his black cape wrapped tightly around him.
His mom looked at her watch, rolled her eyes, and opened the passenger door. “Hurry up, or we’ll be late for the birthday party!”
“I’m coming!” Max protested, bunny-hopping the rest of the way and wriggling into the backseat. He could have moved a lot faster if he’d just let the cape go loose, but that would have ruined everything. Carefully, he set his backpack down beside him, not revealing the slightest glimpse of what might be inside his costume.
“I know you want to surprise Tyler, but I don’t know why you can’t let me see what you’re wearing.” His mom sighed, starting up the car and accelerating onto the road. “After all, you did raid my fabric stash to make it!”
“I’m pupating,” Max insisted, as if that explained everything.
“Oh, right,” his mom continued. “So, you can’t come out of your cocoon too soon?”
“Exactly!” Max grinned, jiggling with excitement, as his mom drove them through the streets toward Tyler’s house. He already knew what his best friend would be dressed as. Tyler was just as obsessed with superheroes as Max was with bugs. But Max’s costume had been a closely guarded secret so far.
“How about I guess?” his mom suggested.
Max just groaned—she’d never be able to figure it out.
“Let’s see. A pretty butterfly?”
“Nope,” Max said.
“Hmm. Maybe … a moth?”
“Wrong again.”
“Something nastier? A wasp?”
Max laughed. “No. You’ll just have to wait!”
“Fine, fine, you win. I give up.” His mom laughed. “Now, where are we? Furze Avenue … oh. Oh, no!”
Max sat bolt upright. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Tyler’s present!” she wailed. “I don’t remember putting it in the car. Last time I saw it, it was on the kitchen table! We need to turn the car around …”
“Wait!” Max called, already rummaging inside his backpack. He pulled out the long, gift-wrapped package—a light-up power sword he’d chosen for Tyler himself.
“Got it!” he shouted. “It’s right here.”
“Phew,” his mom said. “Crisis averted. It’s a good thing one of us has their head screwed on right!”
While he had his backpack open, Max felt inside for the huge, heavy shape of his Encyclopedia of Arthropods. Sure enough, the book was in there, along with the magnifying glass that went with it. Ever since his mom had brought it back from an estate auction, the book had never been far from Max’s side.
The mysterious old book was not only full of bugs of all different types that Max could look up, it was also full of a strange magic, capable of transporting Max to an amazing world of talking bugs. He’d already had adventures on Bug Island, and the bugs could call him back at a moment’s notice.
His mom glanced back at him and groaned. “Do you have to bring that dusty old encyclopedia everywhere you go?”
“Of course,” Max said. “Bugs are everywhere!”
“Sometimes I worry you might turn into a bug overnight,” his mom joked.
Max couldn’t think of anything cooler!
Text copyright © 2015 by Hothouse Fiction
Cover and interior art by Brett Bean, copyright © 2015 Scholastic Inc.
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SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc. BATTLE BUGS is a trademark of Hothouse Fiction.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing 2015
Cover art by Brett Bean
Cover design by Phil Falco & Ellen Duda
e-ISBN 978-0-545-70962-0
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