Traps and Specters

by Bryan Chick

  “We can move this thing,” Noah said. “It’ll keep us safe.”

  The sasquatch struck the tube again, sending it into another roll. Noah and Ella were tossed about until the tube came to a stop, ten feet away from its previous spot. The scouts got to their knees and once more faced the wall opposite the sasquatch. They reached over their heads, gripped the edges of two cutouts, and pulled down while heaving their weight forward. As the tunnel began to turn, they walked their arms along the wall. The tube rolled faster, the scouts crawling along inside it like hamsters in a wheel.

  Noah peered through a cutout over his shoulder just in time to see the sasquatch bearing down on them again.

  “Hold on!”

  Their heads rocked and they shot forward as the sasquatch hit. The tube rose slightly off the ground and then bounced as it landed, throwing Noah and Ella off balance. They quickly stabilized themselves and kept crawling along the spinning wall.

  “Go! Go!” Noah said.

  As they rolled forward, playground equipment zipped past: a spiral slide, a freestanding rock wall, a swinging gate. Noah peered out through the cutouts and spotted the Descenders standing side by side. They were less than twenty-five yards away now, the defeated sasquatches lying all around them.

  The sasquatch rammed into the tube, which went airborne again. As the tunnel touched down, it took off with more speed than ever. Noah felt the web of fractures beneath his fingers. It was growing, branching in new directions.

  Ella and Noah were moving in near-perfect unison now. As they closed to within fifteen yards of the Descenders, the sasquatch delivered another blow to the crawl tube, which split in two and veered off in opposite directions, Ella in one half and Noah in the other. Ella’s tube rolled to a halt by Sam, Noah’s by Solana. The four teenagers spun to face the sasquatch, who skidded to a stop in front of them, wood chips piling onto its big feet.

  With a smirk, Sam said, “Hi there.”

  Hannah sprang into the air and delivered a kick to the monster’s chin, dropping it to the ground, where it shuddered once and then lay perfectly still.

  Solana squatted beside Ella’s tube and peered inside. She nodded and stroked her fingertips along the plastic curve. “Inventive, I’ll give you that.”

  Ella crawled out and staggered to her feet. Her gold headband was turned sideways and her Lasso of Truth was coiled around one of her boots. As she rearranged her wardrobe, she stuck out her tongue at Solana in a way that was only half playful.

  The Crossers turned to the open doors. This wasn’t over. Charlie Red had to be stopped. His capture would surely lead the Secret Society to DeGraff. And Megan and Richie were alone in the school.

  Sam took off running toward the building and the group followed. One by one, they passed through the open doorway into the dark and dangerous halls of Clarksville Elementary.

  CHAPTER 57

  AVAST, YE SCALLYWAG!

  The sasquatch raised its arm to strike at Megan, who covered her head with her arms and turned sideways in a feeble effort to protect herself. As she did, she felt something tug at her waist, and her pirate sword dropped to the ground and bounced a few times like a stiff fish out of water. The sasquatch gave a quick, nervous grunt and took a small step back.

  Megan saw a chance, however minuscule. She snatched up the sword and thrust the plastic point of its blade directly between the eyes of the sasquatch. The monster gave another startled grunt and pulled back its head a few inches.

  “Avast, ye scallywag!” Megan said, the words finding their own way onto her tongue. The long sword trembled in her unsteady hand.

  The sasquatch let out a slow, rumbling growl, its gaze shifting from Megan to the sword. Its nostrils twitched as it sniffed the air in front of the fake blade. It suddenly seemed uncertain about everything.

  Megan thrust the sword forward, causing the sasquatch to jump aside and crumple the frame of a fallen desk. She stepped into the space she’d opened and steered herself around the front of Ms. Sara’s desk, positioning the distant classroom door behind her. The sasquatch turned as well, its gaze bouncing from Megan to the tip of the sword, which continued to hover inches in front of its face.

  A hint of hope raised the volume of Megan’s voice: “Avast! Stay away you … you filthy thing!”

  The sasquatch clenched its fists, growled, but did nothing else. It believed in the danger of her sword.

  Megan retreated toward the door, carefully maneuvering around twisted steel and shards of laminate desktops. She stepped over books and notepads and half-empty boxes of colored pencils. The sasquatch followed, crushing anything in its path. As it realized where she was headed, it flexed its outstretched arms and roared, raining spit all around. Megan tightened her grip on the sword and wagged its tip at the sasquatch.

  “Don’t!” she cautioned as she steered her way through the debris. “Just keep away!”

  She crossed the remainder of the room, walking backward the whole time. As she moved through the doorway into the dimly lit hall, the sasquatch did, too. She turned toward the distant media center and headed that way. The sasquatch followed, its hunched back dragging along the ceiling.

  Her rearward steps found a rhythm, and she moved more quickly, the sasquatch growing more and more irritated. At the end of the hall, the beast cocked its arms and seemed ready to lunge forward. Megan stopped it by swinging her sword in a long arc. The sasquatch dropped back on its huge heels. Megan again wagged the plastic blade, threatening more. She stepped into the two-story hallway in front of the media center. The sasquatch tried to circle her, but she kept it at bay by following its movements with the point of her sword.

  By the time Megan neared the lower-el wing, the sasquatch couldn’t contain its rage any longer. It swung at Megan, who instinctively ducked. Though the blow missed her, it struck her sword. The sasquatch pulled back its arm with a nervous snort and examined it. When it realized it wasn’t injured—that Megan’s sword wasn’t a real weapon—it grabbed the plastic blade out of her grasp and cast it aside.

  As Megan turned to run, the sasquatch seized the calf of her leg. Then, for Megan, Clarksville Elementary was overturned as she was lifted feetfirst into the air.

  CHAPTER 58

  THE STEEL CONFINES OF LOCKER 518

  Richie stared through the vent at the shadowy eyes of the sasquatch. At any moment the beast might crush him. Richie had to do something—but what? He was trapped in the steel confines of his locker with nothing but his books and his half-empty pocket of nerd-gear.

  An idea struck him. His nerd-gear …

  He fumbled through his shirt pocket and plucked out his squirt pen. He aimed the barrel at a slit in the vent and pressed the spring-loaded push-button, and ink streamed into the sasquatch’s eyes. As the beast roared and reached for its face, Richie pushed open the locker, slamming the door against the monster’s forehead. He crouched low, squirmed through the sasquatch’s legs, and bolted across the hall, where he slipped into one of the few undamaged lockers and silently eased the door shut. In the new darkness, he stared out through the vent.

  The sasquatch swiped at its face and staggered about. It shook its head and tried to blink away the ink. Then it stared into locker 518 and realized Richie was gone. Roars of anger rocked the hallway, and the sasquatch charged up the upper-el wing, undoubtedly thinking Richie had gone that way. Richie lost sight of it through the locker vent, and a moment later he heard a deafening clang of metal. Silence followed. Then footsteps. Someone or something was headed toward him. The sasquatch? Charlie Red? In a panic, he aimed his squirt pen at the vent. The footsteps grew louder and louder. Then a shadowy figure filled Richie’s view. The locker door sprang open, and Richie sent a spray of ink into the air. The ink didn’t connect with a sasquatch or Charlie Red, because standing in front of him was Ella.

  Richie eased back his thumb and the stream of ink slowly went limp and then stopped altogether. “Oops.”

  Ella stared down at the fresh stai
n on her dress, her jaw hanging open. After a long, silent moment, she said, “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  “I thought you were a sasquatch!” Richie explained.

  Ella’s eyes grew wider. “Dressed as Wonder Woman?”

  “I … I freaked out. I’m sorry!”

  Ella seized Richie by his oversized collar and yanked him into the hall. “C’mon, doofus! You spend enough time in the lockers during the week.”

  As they charged up the hall, Richie saw what had happened to the sasquatch—the Descenders. Standing at the end of the upper-el wing were Sam, Hannah, and Solana. Noah was there, too. The sasquatch lay in a heap beside a row of dented lockers.

  “Where’s Megan?” Richie asked.

  “Don’t worry,” Ella said as they joined the other Crossers. “Tameron’s got it covered.”

  CHAPTER 59

  MEGAN AND THE SASQUATCH

  Megan dangled upside down in the air, her head near the knees of the sasquatch. Out of nowhere, something suddenly coiled around the monster’s waist. What looked like the body of a huge snake, Megan realized, was a tail—Tameron’s tail.

  The tail seemed to shrink on itself as it cinched tighter and tighter. The sasquatch dropped Megan and grabbed and punched at the thing around its waist. Its monstrous body began to bulge in strange places. Within seconds, it spasmed, jerked, and abruptly went limp. The tail uncoiled and the beast slipped to the floor, where it lay dead, its spine undoubtedly broken. Then the tail slunk away from the scene and gathered in its normal position behind Tameron.

  Tameron stepped forward and offered his hand to Megan, who seized it and was hauled to her feet. She forced herself to look away from the dead sasquatch, hoping she’d eventually forget the gruesome way its life had ended.

  “Where are the others?” she asked.

  Tameron didn’t need to respond because the other Crossers charged up to them from the upper-el wing. As they approached, Sam said, “Everyone all right?”

  The two of them nodded.

  “Anyone seen Charlie?” Tameron asked.

  Heads shook.

  “C’mon,” Sam said. “He’s here somewhere. Let’s get him before he isn’t.”

  Sam led the Crossers along the glass wall of the media center and swung around a corner. Near the middle of the long hall was a room marked, “Maintenance and Electrical.” Its door was wide open.

  “Charlie?” Hannah asked.

  They shared a curious look, then Sam said, “One way to find out.”

  Together, they crept into the maintenance room.

  CHAPTER 60

  THE CELLAR

  The maintenance room was the size of a classroom and crowded with large appliances that hummed and sputtered and spat. Pipes stretched across the open space, connecting steel boxes, disappearing into the walls, and passing through valves with large red handles. One appliance had so many pipes jutting from it that Noah was reminded of a spider.

  There was no sign of Charlie. But the back of the room had a large door—and it was open.

  Sam turned to the scouts. “You know where that goes?”

  The scouts shook their heads.

  Sam considered the door for a moment, then said, “C’mon” as he moved toward it, his wings sweeping along the equipment. The other Crossers followed, Tameron’s long tail stroking the floor like the sinuous body of a huge snake.

  At the open door, Sam bent down to pick up something. He showed it to the others: a broken padlock. This door was normally kept locked. As the Crossers moved closer, they were met with a cool draft of air. They peered over one another’s shoulders. A steep flight of dusty concrete steps led to a dirt floor. A cellar—an old one.

  Richie said, “This has got to be from the old school—the one they demolished.”

  The other scouts nodded in agreement.

  Sam pointed down. In the ground several feet from the bottom step was a faint impression of a large foot with hooked claws. A sasquatch had been here. But the toe prints were facing the steps, as if the sasquatch had walked out from the cellar rather than in.

  Sam headed down the stairs, waving his hand for the others to follow. As Noah stepped down, the underground air overwhelmed him. The decades-old smell of must and earth seemed to have a weight. Directly off the staircase was a long hall, roughly six feet across and a hundred feet long. Both of the uneven concrete walls had four carved-out sections for doors. The hall was dimly lit by a few bulbs that dangled overhead in simple fixtures. Dust had settled across everything: the lights, the floor, the pebbly concrete.

  With soft and cautious footsteps, Sam led the slow charge into the hall. None of the Crossers dared to speak. A sasquatch had been here—how and why, no one knew. Were there others? And what about Charlie Red?

  Sam peered through the doorway into the first room on his left. He looked around and then glanced backed at the Crossers. With a nod, he led everyone deeper down the hall. As Noah passed the room, he looked inside to see an old furnace covered in a layer of dirt. Pipes reached out from its large steel body and punched through the ceiling like the arms of a robotic octopus.

  The dirt floor absorbed the sounds of their footfalls. Other than the drone of the appliances back in the maintenance room, the world had fallen eerily silent.

  Sam peered into the doorway to his right. Empty. He led the group farther and stared into a new doorway. Again, nothing, and the group pressed on.

  Roughly fifty feet away, a figure strolled out from a room near the end of the hall, and the Crossers froze. The figure casually turned and faced their group, the dim light revealing Charlie Red.

  Sam said, “Red—it’s over.”

  Charlie chuckled. “I hardly think so.”

  “Look around,” Solana said. “There’s eight of us and one of you. And we got you against the wall.”

  Charlie looked into the dark shadows behind him. “A dead end?”

  “That’s right,” Sam said.

  “How can you be sure?”

  The Crossers said nothing.

  After a few seconds, Charlie continued, “Before you charge down and … apprehend me … can I offer some help with something?”

  Sam looked puzzled. He said nothing.

  “Would you like your radios working again?”

  “You jammed them? How—?”

  “You underestimate me,” Charlie said. He unclipped a walkie-talkie from his hip and raised it to his lips. “Please give the airwaves back to our friends. Over.”

  Sam said, “Who are you talking to? Who else is in on—”

  “Go ahead and try,” Charlie said.

  “Huh?”

  “Your headsets—try them now.”

  Everyone reached to their ears and turned the headsets on. The pulsing sound was gone.

  “Nice,” Charlie said. “Now … you’re probably going to want to radio in a request.”

  “A what?”

  Charlie chuckled. He didn’t speak for what seemed a long time. At last, he said, “How far are you willing to go to keep the secrets of your precious zoo safe?”

  The Crossers stayed silent and waited for more. Noah felt his heart beating way too fast.

  “You got quite a mess upstairs,” Charlie said. “It’s going to be real tough to cover up. That kind of damage—what will you blame it on? Humans can’t do that. But some animals … some animals can.”

  Noah’s stomach sank as he realized what Charlie was getting at. He wanted Sam to radio back to the Secret Society and have them release some animals into Clarksville Elementary. Gifteds, for certain—animals that could respond to commands from people and move easily into action. And animals large enough to cause destruction like this.

  “No!” Noah said. He jumped forward and grabbed Sam’s arm. “Don’t!”

  Charlie lifted the walkie-talkie to his lips and radioed his unknown contact a second time. “Can you also call our friends at the Clarksville Police? It seems there’s been a terrible break-in at the school.”
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  Sam became very quiet and very still. Then he glanced over at Tameron, who reluctantly nodded at him, a scowl on his mostly masked face. Into his bone mic, Sam said, “Anyone out there?”

  Noah squeezed Sam’s arm. “No!”

  The Descender shrugged off Noah’s hand. “It has to be done.”

  Noah glanced down the hall and watched the smile spread on Charlie’s face.

  A voice filled the radio waves. “Jay here. You back online? I was starting to think—”

  “Jay, I need you to send two of our biggest animals to the school. Gifteds.”

  “What for?”

  “We got a mess. And we need to clean it up.”

  There was a pause from Jay as he seemed to realize what Sam was getting at. Sam wasn’t just looking for assistance—he was looking for sacrifices.

  “Who do you want?”

  Sam stared at the ground and shook his head in what seemed to be regret and disgust. “Blizzard and Little Big.”

  “Sam—no!” This time it was Ella. “The police—they’ll kill them!”

  Noah understood this might be the best way to keep the Secret Zoo safe, but every piece of his heart told him it was the wrong call. Blizzard and Little Bighorn were his friends, not pawns in a chess match.

  After a few seconds, Jay said, “Sam … you sure we can’t—”

  “Send them!” Sam said. “And do it quick! The cops are already on their way!”

  Hearing this, Charlie Red smiled, his freckles seeming to squirm across his cheeks.

  Ella stepped forward and jabbed her finger at Charlie. “You knew this was going to happen! You wanted the sasquatches to smash up the school!”

  “Well … that much is obvious, I think. But aren’t you curious about why we’re standing here”—he gestured toward the walls—“in this filthy cellar?”

  The Crossers said nothing. Noah saw that Sam’s feathers had begun to tremble.