The Turtle Invasion

by Jack Patton

  With special thanks to Adrian Bott

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  FLINT AND FIRE

  SHORTCUT

  BUG HIDEOUT

  THE RETURN

  ESCAPE!

  BUGS, ASSEMBLE!

  ANT WARRIORS

  SECRET WEAPON

  VENOM POINT

  REAL LIFE BATTLE BUGS!

  SNEAK PEEK

  ALSO AVAILABLE

  COPYRIGHT

  Max Darwin strode through the forest as if he were back on Bug Island. The trees weren’t quite as big, and his friends were human instead of giant talking bugs, but the feeling of being in the outdoors was just the same.

  They were hiking on a woodland trail, heading toward the Boy Scout hut where they would spend the night. It wasn’t far from Max’s home, but it still felt like an adventure.

  Up ahead, two of Max’s fellow Scouts were singing as they marched in line. Suddenly one of them, Danny Grey, let out a yell.

  “Whoa!” he cried as he stumbled over something on the ground. “What is that thing?”

  “Max will know,” called Chris Hollands. “Hey, Max! What is this? Some kind of a bug nest?”

  Max hurried to see what they had found. In his path was a large brown mound, bulging up from the path like a little mountain. Danny’s sneaker had made a deep mark in its side.

  “Oh, that’s bugs’ work all right,” said Max, fascinated.

  “What kind of bugs?” Chris asked.

  “I think it might be ants.” Max bent down to take a closer look. He picked up a twig and prodded the mound carefully. Danny and Chris leaned in, too.

  A moment later, both boys jumped back with a yell. A stream of scarlet ants came pouring out of the mound, flowing like lava down the side of a volcano.

  “Not just any ants,” Max gasped. “Fire ants! We need to leave these guys alone.”

  “Why?” Danny asked. “What are they going to do?”

  “Sting us,” Max said. “They’re called fire ants for a reason. They’ve got a lot of venom in those little bodies, and it hurts a lot. Trust me, I know.”

  Danny held up his hands. “Okay, I believe you! Come on, let’s catch up with the others. I don’t want to get left behind.”

  Together they hurried to join the other Scouts, who were gathered up ahead outside the hut. They took their places sitting on log seats around the empty fire pit.

  “Okay, guys,” called the Scoutmaster. “What I’m about to show you is one of the most important techniques you’ll ever learn, especially when it comes to survival in the wild.”

  “How to find the nearest burger place?” Danny joked.

  “Better than that. You’re going to learn how to start a fire without matches. There are lots of different ways, but we’re going to start with good old-fashioned flint and tinder.”

  The Scoutmaster directed them to gather up flints and dry grass from the forest floor. Max excitedly made a heap of grass and piled up flints alongside it. The Scoutmaster handed out pieces of char cloth, which was specially preburned linen. “Nothing better for turning a spark to a flame,” he insisted.

  Then, under the Scoutmaster’s careful supervision, the boys tried to strike sparks using their steel penknives and the flints. Some of the boys managed it right away, and rewarding wisps of smoke began to rise from their grass piles. Max, however, couldn’t make a single spark.

  The Scoutmaster frowned down at Max as he scraped and scratched away with his flint and steel. Only one measly spark popped out, and it pinged off into the undergrowth, where it fizzled and died.

  “I can’t seem to get the hang of it,” Max grumbled.

  “Hmm.” The Scoutmaster frowned. “Maybe try a different way. What about the burning glass?”

  “Burning glass?” Max asked, confused.

  “You use a magnifying glass to focus the sun’s rays. It makes a hot spot, and if you’re lucky, you can blow it alight once it starts to smolder.” The Scoutmaster patted his pockets. “Now, where did I put that magnifying glass of mine … ?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got one!” Max’s magnifying glass had come with The Complete Encyclopedia of Arthropods, his magical book that was the gateway to Bug Island. The book was also an amazing store of bug knowledge. He pulled his backpack open and fished around inside.

  “Uh-oh,” the Scoutmaster said, peering in. “Looks like you’ve left your flashlight on, Max. You’ll run down the batteries that way.”

  “Flashlight?” Max blinked, confused.

  “Look. Something’s shining away in there …”

  Max looked down into his backpack, which was lighting up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. But it wasn’t a flashlight that was glowing in there. It was the pages of his bug encyclopedia!

  The Battle Bugs of Bug Island are sending me a message, he thought frantically. They must need me!

  “I’ll be right back,” he told the surprised Scoutmaster, snatching up his backpack. “I think I left something in the Scout hut …”

  Safely indoors, he tugged the encyclopedia from his bag. He took the magnifying glass from its pocket and quickly turned the pages until he found the one he was looking for. He laid the encyclopedia open in front of him, showing the map of Bug Island.

  He held the magnifying glass over the map and looked through it. The landscape changed before his eyes, turning from the color of ancient paper to the rich, vibrant green of grass. The island stood out in 3-D, from the cliffs to the bay, with a great stretch of rainforest in the middle.

  Suddenly, Max felt a familiar force snatch him off his feet. The room around him seemed to swell and swirl. He went tumbling down into the book, heading into the map that was no longer a map, but the breathtaking reality that was Bug Island.

  Max landed with a thud. His sneakers crunched on gritty, sloping rock and skidded out from under him. With a yell, he fell on his backside and slid even farther down the slope. With one flailing hand he caught hold of a rock and hung on to it until he’d stopped sliding.

  “Ouch,” he yelled as he came to a bumpy halt.

  He struggled to his feet and dusted himself off. It was always a bit of a bumpy landing on Bug Island, but this time was even harder. The rocky slopes of Fang Mountain were not exactly a feather bed.

  Max looked out at the amazing view over Bug Island. In the dim light of the morning, everything was calm and quiet. He listened for the telltale sound of crickets and other bugs, but he couldn’t hear a thing.

  The silence gave him a creepy feeling, as if he’d arrived too late for some important battle.

  “Weird,” Max whispered to himself. Part of him was relieved. At least he wasn’t in the middle of a vicious reptile assault. The recent bird raid was still fresh in his memory. Bee-eaters loaded with flying Draco lizard troops had almost overwhelmed the Battle Bugs, and only Max’s quick actions had saved the day.

  “Better make my way to Bug Camp,” Max said to himself. “They’ll know what’s going on.” He looked down and saw the forest stretching out below him. Farther off to the south, he could make out the curve of the bay, and then the forest, where the bugs usually lived.

  The only way to reach the forest was to descend the slopes of Fang Mountain, and Max didn’t have a bug’s advantages when it came to climbing. He picked his way down the gentler slopes easily enough, but the steeper drops were more treacherous. He hunkered down on his hands and knees, spreading his weight out as evenly as he could so he wouldn’t fall.

  Max was soon sweating from the effort of the hike, and the forest didn’t seem to be getting any nearer. What he needed was a lift from a flying friend, like Buzz the hornet air ace, or even Alexis the giant butterfly.

  He came to a halt on
a rocky ledge and peered over the side. Then, he saw something that would help him: hanging vines dangling downward, looking as thick as rope.

  “That’s more like it.” Max grinned. “Time to take a shortcut!”

  Max took hold of a length of vine and braced his feet against the rock face. He remembered rappelling the indoor climbing wall with his Scout troop, and gently lowered himself down the rock wall, taking care to keep a good grip on the vine.

  He glanced down as he climbed. The ground looked very far away, and the breeze made him swing in the air. Below, he spotted a narrow rock ledge with a little tree sprouting from the cliff just above. From there he might be able to make his way down to the forest.

  However, as he pushed off the rock face with his legs, the vine made an ominous creaking noise. Then came a cracking, splitting sound.

  “Uh-oh,” Max cried. “I’m only halfway down!”

  He frantically tried to climb down faster, but it was too late. The vine broke free from the side of the rock with a dry rattle of falling earth.

  “Argh!” Max cried as he fell. In an instant he tumbled through the air and crashed through the branches of the little tree below. Before he could get his bearings, the branches split, and he went crashing to the rock ledge. The vine rope landed on top of him in a loose heap.

  “Owww,” he yelled for the second time this morning. “What’s with today?”

  He pulled himself upright again, wincing. The narrow ledge had even less room to move than he’d had before, and although he’d thought it might be easier to reach the forest from here, the sheer drop below made his heart lurch. He was stuck, he realized, with no way down and no way back up.

  “Looks like you’re trapped, strange bug,” hissed a sinister voice from behind him.

  Max spun around, his heart thumping in his chest.

  “What the—” he began. But as he looked, all he could see was the tree he’d crashed through and the rocky mountain face. He narrowed his eyes and peered closer. He could’ve sworn the voice had come from near the tree.

  “Over here,” he heard the voice tease. “Or am I over here … ?”

  Max whirled back and forth, trying to find where the source of the noise was coming from. Suddenly, he didn’t have to wonder anymore—the bark of the tree blinked, and before his eyes, the tree seemed to move.

  It was a lizard! And it was staring hungrily at Max.

  Max gasped in fright. The lizard was dark brown and green, with gnarly scales that looked just like a tree trunk. It was the most amazing and terrifying camouflage he’d ever seen. In an instant, he knew what kind of lizard it must be.

  “You’re a mossy leaf-tailed gecko!” he exclaimed.

  The gecko looked at him curiously. “What I am, little bug, is no concern of yours. Though you are right about my proud gecko heritage.” It angled its head thoughtfully. “Why are you here? I thought all the bugs had retreated, like the cowards they are.”

  “I’m no coward!” shouted Max.

  The gecko chuckled. “That’s what they all say. But the moment they see the general coming, they soon run and hide.”

  Questions raced through Max’s mind. Could the Battle Bugs really be hiding? And who was this “general” the gecko thought was so scary?

  But there was no time to wonder about all that, as the hissing gecko came charging straight toward him.

  “You’re going to wish you’d hidden away like all the others!” it snarled.

  Max jumped back in fright. He had to find a weapon—any weapon. The fallen vine was still coiled at his feet. On impulse, he snatched it up and whirled the loose end around his head, making a thrumming noise.

  “Come any closer and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t,” he yelled. The tough, flexible vine would make a pretty handy whip.

  The gecko paced around him, hissing. Max flicked his vine whip at it and hit it in the head. The gecko staggered back.

  “A lucky shot,” it snapped. “But your luck is about to run out!”

  It sprinted at Max, weaving to the left and right. He struck out with his vine whip, but the nimble gecko dodged out of the way. In the next second, the gecko was upon him. Clammy, sticky claws shoved him up against the rock face. Max struggled in the creature’s powerful grip, but it was too strong.

  “Any last words?” gloated the gecko.

  Uh-oh, Max thought, feeling panic overwhelm him. There’s no way out of this one …

  But suddenly, a distant, familiar droning noise reached his ears. Then he spotted something darting through the trees, something he recognized—and he knew he had a chance.

  “Last words?” he yelled. “How about … eat this!”

  With that, he head-butted the gecko right on its nose.

  The gecko squealed and clutched its face. With one last surge of energy, Max flung the lizard away from him.

  As it writhed on its back, struggling to right itself, Max sprinted toward the tip of the ledge.

  “Silly bug,” the gecko seethed, pulling itself upright. “You can’t survive that drop. You’ll be killed.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Max grinned. “Watch me.”

  Max took a deep breath and flung himself over the edge with a wild whoop. In an instant, he was plunging down toward the forest floor, hundreds of feet below.

  Max felt the air whoosh through his hair as he fell. The ground loomed up before him, coming closer and closer with each passing second. In moments he would be a boy-sized splat on the forest floor.

  “Any time now would be good!” he shouted, hoping the bug he needed would hear.

  Suddenly, the stripy figure of Buzz, the hornet commander of the Battle Bugs air division, came into view. Max spread his arms out wide and did his best to steer himself into her path. With pinpoint precision, she buzzed under him, wings whirring ferociously. Max landed right on top of her, gripping on to her bristly back.

  “Caught you!” Buzz cheered. “Welcome back to Bug Island, Max.”

  “Thanks, Buzz. I knew I could count on you!”

  The bold hornet whizzed back up through the sky until she was higher than the treetops. She flew past the ledge Max had just jumped from. The mossy leaf-tailed gecko glared at Max with bugged-out eyes. It hissed angrily and flicked its tongue—but it was no match for Max and Buzz, who were soon out of sight.

  “See you later,” Max teased.

  Max clung on tightly as Buzz rocketed through the air, banking and swerving so hard he was nearly flung off her back. He wrapped the vine rope around his waist. It might come in handy again.

  Buzz shot past the barren, rocky mountain peak and made straight for a flat area slightly lower down. It was still high above the ground, but instead of being bare and rocky, it was overgrown with leafy plants and tangled greenery.

  Good visibility, Max thought, and easy to defend, too. If I had to choose, that’s where I’d put a bug hideout.

  The Battle Bugs had clearly gotten the same idea, because as Buzz came in to land, Max noticed bug constructions all around. But they were so basic, it looked like the wasps and termites had needed to make them in a hurry.

  A half-collapsed fort stood at the edge of the plateau. Buzz touched down beside the wall and bowed her head so Max could climb off. As he did, he saw three familiar figures emerge from the shadows: Spike the emperor scorpion, Webster the trap-door spider, and Barton the titan beetle, commander of the Battle Bugs.

  “Well done, Buzz!” said Barton. “I was worried our message had reached Max too late.”

  “No, just in time,” said Max, a little out of breath. The breakneck flight had left Max a little unsteady, and he leaned against the wall to regain his balance.

  His head soon cleared, but something still felt odd. He patted himself down, trying to figure out what was different. A heavy weight had been pressing on his side, but now it was gone.

  “The magnifying glass!” he groaned. “Oh no. I’ve lost it!”

  He frantically checked his other pockets, while the Battl
e Bug commanders looked on with concern.

  “It must have fallen out of my pocket on the flight over,” he gasped.

  “Sorry,” said Buzz, wiggling her antennae. “Maybe I should have gone slower.”

  “It’s not your fault,” said Max, meaning it. He felt like kicking himself. How could he have lost something so precious? It was irreplaceable—and more importantly, it was his only way back to the real world.

  “Max, I’m afraid there’s more bad news,” said Barton. “We are all in grave danger. While you were away in your world, the lizards attacked in force, in far greater numbers than any invasion we have ever seen before.”

  Max looked around at the half-built camp. “So what the gecko said was true? We’re in retreat?”

  “Those lousy reptiles overran the main camp in the forest!” Spike cried. “They busted through our defenses and broke down our walls, and of course we fought them, but they just kept coming!”

  “We lost the camp?” Max asked, his voice sounding hollow. It hardly seemed possible. The bug fortress had been mighty, like a towering castle. “But without the lava bridge, how could the reptiles bring enough troops across from Reptile Island?”

  “Sea turtles,” said Barton darkly. “They’re even better at carrying troops across the water than the alligators. There were thousands of reptiles in the first wave alone.”

  Max was shocked. Bug Island was all but conquered. And with the magnifying glass lost, he was stuck here, too.

  “We’re n-not giving up, though,” said Webster. “All over the island, the b-bugs are regrouping their forces, ready to fight back.”

  Max nodded, glad the bugs still had their fighting spirit. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Many of the surviving bugs have gone underground,” rumbled Barton. “I’m planning to use the tunnel system under Bug Island to make tactical strikes against the reptiles.”

  “But there’s a problem,” Spike butted in. “Only Glower knows the complete layout of the tunnels, and he’s been taken prisoner again.”

  “Where is he now?” Max asked.

  “Glower never made it out of the camp,” Barton said. “He stayed and fought while other bugs ran for their lives. When we last saw him, he was being carried off by a team of lizards.”