Feeding Frenzy

by Michael P. Spradlin

  “For Pete’s sake, loosen up,” Emmet hissed.

  Calvin tried leaning casually against the wall. He then adjusted himself and tried it again, this time with one leg propped up behind him. Then he switched and crossed his arms and tried leaning against the wall. Next, to Emmet’s horror, he put one hand on his hip and the other on the wall and tried it that way, but no matter how his arms and legs flailed around, he still looked suspicious. Emmet shook his head. Poor Calvin. It was a little like watching a baby moose doing yoga.

  With everyone still at lunch the hallway was mostly empty. This time, though, it seemed like a much longer journey to Dr. Newton’s room. The door was closed. Emmet took a deep breath. Any potentially dangerous chemicals for the science classes were stored separately — they didn’t allow middle-school kids to make anything more hazardous than mold — but Emmet was still surprised to find the door to the room was unlocked. He opened it a crack. “Hello?” You could never tell with the Newt. He might have someone on room detention during lunch hour. The Newt was a stickler for discipline. No one answered. So far so good.

  Emmet went straight to Dr. Newton’s desk. It had three drawers on one side and a single long drawer under the desktop. Emmet pulled the long drawer open first. Nothing but pencils, staples, and other office supplies. The other three drawers were crammed full of homework assignments, more office supplies, and a jar with a preserved frog in it. But so far nothing incriminating. No hidden recipes for Pterogators. No journals labeled SECRET FILES OF DR. CATALYST or CONFESSIONS OF AN ECOTERRORIST.

  Emmet pounded his fist on the desk in frustration. He looked around the room. There had to be something. On top of a cabinet on the wall near the desk he spotted a battered briefcase.

  It was old and beat-up, the leather scratched and torn, with simple latches rather than a combination lock. Emmet’s heart sank a little. Calvin was right. It was unlikely Dr. Newton was going to leave anything here that would prove he had a secret identity as a crazed, animal-inventing criminal.

  The briefcase held a tablet computer, some homework assignments, a small pair of binoculars, and a folded-up newspaper. Emmet was about to close it when he spotted a green file folder buried under all the stuff. He pulled it out and looked inside. He found a bunch of newspaper clippings about the Dr. Catalyst incidents. It included computer printouts of articles about alligators, barracudas, great gray owls, DNA research, vampire bats, and a Miami Dolphins schedule.

  Apparently Dr. Newtalyst was an ecoterrorist football fan. And Emmet had just found his scrapbook.

  Right as he was about to stuff the file in his backpack, Emmet felt his cell phone vibrate in his jeans pocket.

  He’d just received a text.

  DR. CATALYST WAS MAKING THE FINAL PREPARATIONS at the aquarium. If everything went according to plan, the tide would finally turn. This next act would show the world how far he was willing to go. It would also strike a blow against Dr. Geaux and Dr. Doyle. After this, they would realize he was not to be trifled with. And they would leave him alone to complete his work.

  The tank in the aquarium was buzzing with Muraecudas. Unlike the Pterogators, they required fewer hormones to accelerate their growth. They achieved full size and length in a matter of weeks. Swimming about in the backlit tank, they were fearsome to look at. Their long, undulating bodies and blunt faces filled with dozens of spear-shaped teeth made them look just as fearsome as their Pterogator brethren. The bodies were made for swimming hard and fast through the water, devouring whatever crossed their paths.

  As they swam and circled the tank, some of them would occasionally surge toward him, bumping their heads hard against the glass when he wandered too close. They were ready to eat him, were it not for the barrier.

  Dr. Catalyst used a large wrench to attach the final connector to an electronic winch bolted to the aquarium. Cable fed out of the winch to a pulley system on the ceiling. Hanging suspended above the open water tank was a steel cage. The sight of it dangling a few feet above the water was chilling even to him. Depending on what happened in the next few minutes, he would know whether or not he would be required to use it.

  The governor’s next press conference was scheduled to begin momentarily. Dr. Catalyst punched a few buttons on his tablet and brought up a live Internet feed. There on a stage stood the governor, a tall, thin man dressed in a gray pinstriped suit. His hair was flecked with gray at the temples, and his face looked a little sunburned, as if he’d just been called in off the golf course. Behind him were gathered several mayors from South Florida cities, police officers, and FBI agents. He even saw Dr. Geaux in her park-service uniform among the toadies assembled there.

  “Good afternoon,” the governor said. “I will make my remarks brief. I’m here to announce the expansion of our joint task force consisting of personnel and resources from several state, federal, and local agencies. This task force’s objective is twofold. First, to reverse the environmental damage being done to the state by the release of artificially enhanced species by the criminal calling himself Dr. Catalyst. Appropriate state and federal agencies will coordinate efforts to capture and destroy these animals before the harm they are causing becomes irreversible. Second, the task force will also use the law-enforcement capabilities of these combined agencies to locate and apprehend the fugitive calling himself Dr. Catalyst by any means necessary.

  “Because of her scientific training, as well as the law-enforcement experience she brings to this job as the superintendent of one of America’s foremost national parks, I am asking Dr. Rosalita Geaux to serve as task-force director. Her efforts thus far have resulted in the safe removal of dozens of hybrid creatures from the Everglades. She has accepted these additional duties with my thanks, as well as the personal thanks of the secretary of the interior.

  “I will say one final thing before Dr. Geaux takes your questions. We will not close the beaches. We will not close the Everglades. Though the park is federal property, I have the word of the president of the United States on this. Dr. Catalyst will not dictate policy to this state or any municipality. Our beaches will remain open. We do ask people to exercise caution, as these species are dangerous and unpredictable. But we will not allow a terrorist to dictate how we live our lives.

  “I also ask the public’s help in this. Be vigilant. Report any suspicious behavior or activity, as it is unlikely a single person would be able to effectively carry out an operation of this size. It is very likely he has help, so watch for suspicious boats or individuals, or anything that appears out of the ordinary. Together we can bring an end to Dr. Catalyst and his misguided and malevolent schemes. That is all I have to say. Dr. Geaux will be taking your questions now.”

  His rage building, Dr. Catalyst watched as Dr. Geaux approached the microphone. Reporters shouted questions, but his vision had turned red and his hearing dimmed to the point where he couldn’t concentrate on anything being said. Something about twenty-four-hour hotlines being established. Environmental teams dispatched to control the creatures. Extra beach and swamp patrols. It was all just white noise to him.

  The governor had called him a terrorist. A terrorist! “Unlikely to be working alone,” he had said, as if he were some imbecile! The governor, who allowed the environment in his own state to be flushed down the drain, was calling him a criminal! What a tin-pot, small-minded, bought-and-paid-for, self-important fool!

  Dr. Catalyst stomped back and forth in front of the tank, attempting to walk off his anger. He kneaded his mangled hand hard against his thigh. He would have punched something, had he not feared damage to his remaining working arm. It took several slow, gasping, deep breaths before the raw emotions receded.

  If he was to succeed, he must not let these fools stop him. Looking up at the cage, he pushed a button on his tablet and the winch motor whirred, lowering it a few feet closer to the tank’s surface. He pushed another button and the cage floor, hinged along one side, swung open. Inside was an open container of lionfish. It splashed into th
e water and the Muraecudas immediately converged, devouring them in a matter of seconds.

  His little device worked perfectly.

  Terrorist. He would show them a terrorist.

  The tablet held a map program, and he pulled up one of the marshes and inland waterways in nearby Florida City. The Aerojet Canal ran right behind the Doyle residence. With a little maneuvering he could reach it from his boat.

  It was time to raise the stakes.

  HIS PHONE BUZZED AGAIN. PULLING IT FROM HIS POCKET, the screen lit up with Calvin’s message: 9-1-1. The file was in his hand. It was evidence. Of something. He didn’t know what to do.

  If he took the file, Dr. Newton would notice it was gone and it might spook him. He could go underground. They might never find him. If he didn’t take it, he’d have no way of convincing Dr. Geaux or his dad that Dr. Newton was at least up to something. And if he stood around trying to figure out what to do much longer, Dr. Newton would catch him in his room, and he didn’t have an excuse ready. But if he took it and the Newt found out, he might be putting everyone in danger. The only way to prove anything was to take it.

  He glanced at the file again. Then he remembered Dr. Newton’s desk drawers. They were full of folders, old homework assignments, tests, and other assorted junk. Maybe he could pull a switcheroo. Now was his chance.

  Emmet put the file in his backpack. He opened the middle desk drawer and found an empty green folder. Grabbing a handful of papers of approximately the same thickness, he jammed them into the folder and replaced it in the briefcase. Maybe Dr. Newton didn’t look through it every day. Emmet could only hope. He scurried to the door.

  There was nowhere for him to go except out in the hall, and if he barged out of the room now, Dr. Newton might see him. Emmet slowly opened the door, holding his breath and just hoping the hinges didn’t squeak. If his quarry were heading this way, he would be spotted for sure.

  His cell phone came with a camera. The viewfinder was in the front corner, but the view screen was in the back. Emmet held the camera so only the small hole for the viewfinder went past the doorframe. It took a bit of adjusting, but he managed to maneuver it so that he could see Calvin and Dr. Newton standing at the intersection of the hallway.

  Calvin had positioned himself so the teacher had his back to Emmet as they talked. Emmet couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but it was an animated conversation. Calvin was moving his hands around a lot more than usual, maybe to keep Dr. Newton’s attention.

  Emmet stepped into the hallway and quietly shut the door behind him. Then he saw the flaw in his plan. Calvin couldn’t keep Dr. Newton talking forever, and there was no place for Emmet to hide between the room and where they were standing.

  Ms. Susskind’s room was across the hall, so he hurried over and tried it, but the door was locked. The other classrooms in the hallway were all too close to Dr. Newton.

  Emmet was stuck. No place to run. No place to hide. No restroom. Not even a janitor’s closet. There was only one direction to go: forward. As he started down the hall toward them, he saw Calvin’s eyes widen slightly. For Calvin this passed as an expression of great alarm.

  “Do you think they swim in schools, or do you think they are more solitary like the moray eel?” Emmet heard Dr. Newton ask Calvin.

  Calvin was staring right at Emmet, and his eyes widened another three millimeters. Dr. Newton didn’t notice.

  “What?” Calvin said. “Oh. I don’t know. There were five or six of them, so a school, I guess. But Stuke was bitten, and we had to do the swimming. And there was a lot of blood. Then he was screaming. Stuke, I mean. Not the fish thing. And I had a snorkel.”

  “I see,” Dr. Newton said, sounding confused.

  Emmet was cringing. If Calvin were ever forced to turn to a life of crime, he needed to make sure he was never captured. He would last about three seconds in an interrogation.

  The conversation was winding down. Any moment Dr. Newton was going to turn around and spot him.

  Emmet spied the bulletin board a few yards away. It was covered with posters, announcements, and flyers. He stole toward it as quickly as he dared, slipping a pencil and a scrap of paper from his backpack and pretending to be very interested in copying down information about an upcoming fund-raiser for the school band.

  The bell rang, and the surge of students emerging from the lunchroom could be heard through the whole building. Dr. Newton and Calvin’s conversation was drowned out by the rising noise. From the corner of his eye, Emmet saw Dr. Newton bid Calvin good-bye and turn toward his room. He stopped when he discovered Emmet in the hallway.

  Emmet finished writing down his pretend information and stuffed the scrap of paper into his backpack. He looked up, making direct eye contact with Dr. Newton.

  “Mr. Doyle,” Dr. Newton said with a small measure of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t see you there.”

  Emmet looked at him, trying to give the hardest stare his twelve-year-old face could muster.

  “I saw you,” Emmet said. He was pretty sure Dr. Newton’s face reddened a little bit.

  He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked toward Calvin, who was still waiting at the intersection of the hallway. He didn’t break eye contact with Dr. Newton the whole way.

  “How’s the arm?” he asked.

  Dr. Newton narrowed his eyes at Emmet. Without a word, he turned and hurried to his classroom.

  THE CONTENTS OF THE FILE WERE SPREAD OUT ON THE floor of the tree house. Emmet stared at them like a voodoo priest might study a pile of bones. There was something in all of this. What it was, he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

  Calvin was sprawled on a beanbag in the corner, nearly catatonic. His body was stiff, and his legs and arms were splayed out to his sides like a turtle on its back. He stared at the ceiling of the tree house without blinking.

  “I’m never doing that again,” he said.

  “I hope not,” Emmet said.

  “What? What’s that mean?” Calvin lifted his head.

  “It means you su — … are not very …” Emmet caught himself. “We all have different gifts. And being sneaky is just … not in your nature,” Emmet said. Carefully.

  “Yeah, well, so I’m not a ninja like you. We almost got caught breaking the rules,” Calvin said.

  “Relax, we weren’t holding up a bank,” Emmet said.

  “You took someone’s personal property.”

  “It’s called evidence.”

  “Evidence? Of what? That Dr. Newton is a Dolphins fan?”

  “He’s involved in this somehow.”

  “You don’t know that,” Calvin said. He groaned and sat up.

  “Why would he have all this stuff?” Emmet said. “It’d be one thing if it was just news clippings, but there’s other stuff here. Information from a lot of different scientific websites about the creatures we’ve encountered, and some we haven’t yet. And while we’re on that subject, I hope we never do. Vampire bats? I hate bats.”

  “Actually, bats are pretty harmless and really useful to the environment.”

  “You are a walking nature documentary, do you know that?”

  “Yes. Emmet, the real question is — what are you going to do with that file?”

  Now it was Emmet’s turn to flop backward on a beanbag. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he tried to think. The governor had expanded and enlarged the Catch the Environmental Supervillain Task Force, and Calvin’s mom was in charge of it. Now even busier, she’d asked his dad to take complete charge of Pterogator removal in the Everglades and help her find some experts on the new creatures. The upshot was both of their parents were more occupied than ever.

  By all rights he should give the file to Dr. Geaux and have her deal with it. Of course this would bring up the very uncomfortable question of how he came to acquire it. In her mind, Dr. Newton had been questioned and cleared. She probably wouldn’t be overjoyed that Emmet had recently taken up cat burglary. His dad definitely wouldn’t like it.
And since Emmet didn’t exactly have a warrant to search through Dr. Newton’s private stuff, who knows if they’d even be able to use it.

  “I don’t know,” Emmet said. “Yet. I need to think on it.”

  “Just don’t ever ask me to do that again, bro,” Calvin said. “I’m still a little freaked out.”

  “We’ve discussed the bro thing,” Emmet said, his arm still over his eyes.

  The sound of their parents’ cars arriving moved them both to action. There was no way Calvin would ever allow him to hide the file here. That would be a big, giant screaming bag of no-no as far as Calvin was concerned. Emmet stuffed the file in his backpack, and they hustled down to greet their parents.

  Apollo had already run on ahead and was getting his nightly dose of affection from Dr. Geaux.

  “Hey, boys,” she said.

  “Guys,” Dr. Doyle chimed in. Both of their parents looked really, really tired. Like dead-on-their-feet exhausted.

  “Emmet, if you’ve got all your stuff, we’re just going to head home and pick up some takeout along the way. I’m beat. Going to hit the sack early. That okay?” Dr. Doyle asked.

  “Sure, Dad, anything is fine,” Emmet said.

  They said their good-byes and climbed into the truck. On the way, they grabbed burgers and shakes, and an extra burger for Apollo, who was not pleased when he discovered that burgers disappear when you eat them. Emmet thought that Apollo divided his days into thirds: looking for food, eating the food he found, and then getting ready to look for even more food. Wrapped around periods of sleep. A short while later, they arrived home.

  Dr. Doyle stumbled off to bed, muttering, “Good night.” Emmet had homework and spread out on the kitchen table working away, with Apollo sleeping at his feet. Emmet usually tried to do well in school and took his homework seriously. Before long he looked up and realized it was almost time for bed.