The Gorgon Slayer

by Gary Paulsen

  “You want that new bike, don’t you?”

  Five minutes later, Warren was peering into the remaining shield and leading Rick down the basement stairs. Rick was carrying the sword and wearing a grocery bag over his head that they’d borrowed from Helga. The dust still in the air tickled Warren’s nose, making him sneeze.

  “Is that the Gorgon?” Rick swung the sword. Warren had to duck to avoid a permanent crew cut.

  “Will you be careful with that thing?”

  “Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

  “Don’t swing until I tell you to.”

  Warren flashed the shield beneath the stairs. No Gorgon. He flashed it at the water heater, and at all the rockheads. No Gorgons there, either. He checked behind the furnace, Rick stumbling along blindly behind him. The Gorgon seemed to have disappeared.

  “I don’t understand it,” Warren said. “I don’t know where she is.”

  “Don’t ask me to help you find her.”

  Something was wrong with the wardrobe—the door was barely cracked open. Warren had opened it wide the last time they were in the basement.

  “I think I know where she is,” he whispered.

  “Do you want me to swing now?” Rick whispered back.

  “I’ll tell you when.”

  A flicker of tongue licked by the edge of the open door—a flicker of a snake’s tongue. “She’s in the wardrobe.”

  “What’ll we do?”

  “When I say ‘leap,’ leap straight ahead about three feet. I’ll open the door and use the shield to position the Gorgon right in front of you. When everything is right, I’ll yell ’swing,’ and two seconds after I do, I want to see twenty snakes and one very ugly head rolling across the floor.”

  “No problem,” Rick said. “You can count on me.”

  Warren crouched, his legs as tight as steel springs. “Leap!”

  Warren bounded ahead, with Rick right behind him. The Gorgon exploded from behind the door like a grenade. Warren whipped the shield around until Rick was reflected in it. The Gorgon followed the shield’s movement until her scaly green neck was only a foot away from the sword’s gleaming blade, which was held like a baseball bat over Rick’s shoulder.

  “Now, Rick. Swing!”

  Rick just stood there. The Gorgon shrieked and hissed only inches from his face, and he just stood there.

  “Swing, Rick, swing!”

  Rick stared at him stonily. Warren froze as if he’d suddenly been shoved into a freezer. Rick, he realized, shouldn’t be staring at him at all.

  Warren turned the shield to look at the floor. The grocery bag was lying there. It should have been on Rick’s head. One of the ceiling pipes must have knocked it off when Rick leaped toward the wardrobe.

  “Oh, no. Not you, too, Rick.”

  Rick didn’t answer. He had turned into a rockhead.

  CHAPTER 6

  I wonder, Warren thought as he dropped to the floor, lost his shield, and covered his eyes, if it would be possible to have a worse day.

  The Gorgon’s feet pounded up and down Warren’s spine, her fingers tried to tear his hands away from his eyes, and her mouth poured screams into his ear. Snakes slithered across his eyebrows.

  “Get off me!” He rolled over. The Gorgon lifted into the air, and a blind but very lucky kick sent her careening off what could have been the furnace. Warren scrambled to his feet and took off in what he thought was the direction of the staircase. He ended up in the wardrobe.

  The door closed behind him and he gained a second of peace. Outside, the sound of the Gorgon’s wings got louder, then softer, then louder again before their beating stopped altogether.

  She’s waiting for me, Warren thought. Out there, somewhere. I’ll peek out and see her grinning, nasty face, and I’ll be a stone Warren in a wardrobe, like an overgrown knick-knack on a shelf.

  “I wish things were like the good old days,” he said aloud, fear raising his voice an octave too high, “when all I had to worry about was being a pig.”

  What I need, he thought after he’d swallowed his panic down far enough so that he could think, is a sword. Of course, having a sword hadn’t done him much good so far. What I need, he rethought, is a hundred guys with a hundred swords. But he only had four guys, and they were all rockheads, and their swords were trapped in their stony grips.

  My sword is still out there, he remembered. Somewhere.

  He had to find that sword. It was hidden in a dark basement filled with lawn tools. He had to find it with his eyes closed. A dragon lady with enough ugly on her to pave a parking lot would be screaming and clawing at his face.

  Impossible.

  I could flee up the stairs instead, he thought, then get fired by Princey and have to live with the knowledge that I wasn’t able to do a simple thing like exterminate a Gorgon. I’d rather be a park statue.

  Faced with a choice between the impossible and the unwanted, Warren chose the impossible. So what if there was no way he could ever find the sword? He would just have to.

  And he would just have to do it now.

  He burst out of the wardrobe, his hands covering his eyes, shouting a battle cry he had heard in an old war movie. He tripped over something—probably Rick’s granite foot—scrambled back up, and ran into the wall. He fell into a pile of tools.

  The Gorgon was all over him, as usual. Warren kept his eyes covered with one hand and searched frantically through the tools with the other.

  He found a hammer. No good, it didn’t cut. He found a pair of pliers. It didn’t cut either, and pinching her head off would take too long and be too messy. Where was that sword?

  He stood and the Gorgon pushed him back down. He landed on Helga’s electric weed trimmer.

  Weed trimmer, Warren thought, hmmm.

  He felt down the trimmer’s shaft to its business end, the Gorgon gnawing at his fingers as he did. He found the motor, then the safety guard. He felt beneath it to see if the shaft was loaded with trimming line. It was. He worked his hand back to the other end, found the trigger, and pressed it. Nothing happened.

  You have to plug it in, you dummy, his mind shouted over the Gorgon’s screams.

  He found the plug, then felt along the wall. Miracle of miracles, there was an outlet right next to his shoulder. He couldn’t get the plug in. Without thinking, he opened his eyes to see why.

  He had the plug sideways, with the tongs on the top and the bottom. He straightened it out and fitted it into the outlet. As he did, a snake dropped down and hissed in his eyes. Warren was face-to-face with the Gorgon.

  His nose suddenly went numb. When he touched it with his finger, he heard a clink.

  Hurry, his mind shouted at him, before it’s too late!

  When Warren pressed the trigger, he couldn’t feel it. The only way he knew the trimmer was working was the zinging sound the trimming line made as the motor twirled it in the air.

  “Not yet, Snaky-brain!”

  He rolled on his back, his eyes clenched shut again, and kicked his suddenly very heavy legs straight into the air. They hit something solid. He swept the weed trimmer in an arc over his head as if he were taking out the biggest thistle in the world.

  Zing!

  Something splattered wetly beside him. Something else thumped to the floor at his feet. He thought he knew what they were, but he didn’t want to risk looking. He didn’t open his eyes until he heard Chen groan something about his nose and heard Harper say, “Oh man, who belted me in the forehead?”

  CHAPTER 7

  Princey scowled even more than usual. His eye searched the five embarrassed faces of O’Rourke, Chen, Harper, Rick, and Warren. They had good reason to be embarrassed. Princey didn’t like bungled assignments.

  “WHO SHOULD I BLAME?” he roared.

  “Blame them all, boss,” Rank Frank said from the bleachers. “Especially Piggy.”

  “Go kiss a troll, Frank,” Warren said.

  Rank Frank laughed. “Nothing you say can ruin my mood, P
iggy. I have a date with a princess tonight.”

  “Are you going to take her watermelon hunting?”

  Frank grinned. “I’m thinking about it.”

  “CAN WE GET BACK TO THE MATTER AT HAND?” Princey bellowed. “WHO SHOULD I BLAME?”

  No one answered.

  “WELL?”

  Still no one answered. Princey shook his head and cleaned out his ear with one huge pinky, after forcing the bristles aside. “THEN I GUESS I’LL BLAME YOU ALL. HALF PAY FOR ROCKHEADS.” His big mitt slapped a wadded ten-dollar bill into each of the first four employees’ hands, then slapped one into Warren’s.

  “But I’m not a rockhead,” Warren said meekly. “Not really.”

  “YOU GET HALF PAY FOR VIOLATING PROCEDURES.”

  “Huh?”

  “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO KILL GORGONS WITH SWORDS, NOT WITH WEED TRIMMERS.”

  Warren sighed and took his pay. It was best not to argue with Princey.

  Princey paid everyone else his twenty dollars. Poor Rodriguez would have to spend half of his on a manure fumigating service.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Princey,” Warren said.

  “RIGHT, TOMORROW. LET’S SEE IF YOU CAN MAKE IT ON TIME TWO DAYS IN A ROW, OKAY?”

  Warren was going to tell Princey about how Happy Harry was ripping him off, but decided not to.

  Princey hacked, spit, and lit a cigarette. Still scowling, he closed the garage door, then crammed himself into his pickup and thundered away.

  Warren joined Rick in staring glumly at their pay. “Not much for all we went through today, is it?” Rick asked.

  “Not much,” Warren agreed. “Ten bucks and no tip.”

  “Are you going to be here tomorrow, or were you just telling Princey a story?”

  “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

  Rick sighed. “I guess I will be, too. I really need that new bike. I’ll see you.”

  “Yeah,” Warren said, “I’ll see you.” He watched as Rick walked stiffly away, then climbed, groaning, onto his bicycle. His legs screamed from the pain of the minor refleshing they’d undergone.

  “Hopefully,” he said to himself, “they aren’t so sore that they can’t speed me past the unicorn crossing.”

  “Beware of the sausage maker on your ride home, Piggy.” Rank Frank laughed.

  “Go kiss Medusa, Frank.” Warren pedaled painfully away.

  The sun was setting. The air was summer-evening cool, with birds singing sweetly in the trees. A fairy family was having a picnic on a napkin across the street—a corn kernel, a whole thimbleful of soda, and a miniature marshmallow for dessert. It promised to be a beautiful evening.

  Warren sighed. If only tomorrow would hold so much promise.

  Tomorrow was just another day working at Prince Charming’s Damsel in Distress Rescue Agency. If Warren was unlucky, and after today he had no reason to think he wouldn’t be, it would be another day of lousy assignments at half pay.

  But maybe things will be different, he thought. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe I’ll get an easy assignment—like slaying a dragon.

  HEROES OF MYTHOLOGY

  The ancient Greeks believed that the world was flat and circular and that the only existing sea, the Mediterranean, was filled with dragons, monsters, and enchantresses. Believing in heroes and gods who championed the common man gave people a sense of well-being and security.

  HERCULES—the son of the god Zeus and a mortal woman, Alcmene. This hero was famous for his strength and courage. His most outstanding exploits were his twelve labors. The sixth of those labors, which is mentioned in this book, was cleaning the stables of King Augeas by running rivers through them.

  JASON—the son of King Aeson of Thessaly. Jason was raised by the centaur Chiron. When he was grown up and ready to take his place on the throne of Thessaly, he found that it had been usurped by his uncle Pelias. Pelias promised to give the throne back if Jason could bring him the Golden Fleece from Colchis. Jason led a band of heroes, called the Argonauts, on a successful mission to find the pure gold wool of the sacred ram.

  ORPHEUS—the son of the muse Calliope. Orpheus went to the god of the underworld, Pluto, to rescue his wife from him. Orpheus’ singing was so beautiful and sad that Pluto let him take her. There was one condition: He couldn’t look back at her as they left the underworld. Out of concern, Orpheus glanced back, and his wife was lost to him forever.

  THESEUS—the son of Aegeus of Athens. This hero was one of Jason’s band of Argonauts and was involved in several fantastic adventures. He was most famous for killing the Minotaur, a monster with the head of a bull and the body of a man.

  PERSEUS—the son of Zeus and Danäe. With the help of a helmet of invisibility, Athena’s shield, and Hermes’ sword, he cut off the head of the Gorgon Medusa. He looked into the shield to escape her gaze, which would have turned him to stone.

  ACHILLES—the son of a nymph and Peleus. He was a great hero of the Trojan war. When he was a baby, he was dipped into the river Styx to make him invincible. His mother held him by the heel, which became the only spot on Achilles’ body that could be hurt. During the Trojan war he was shot in the heel with an arrow, and he died near the main gate of Troy.

  Don’t miss all the exciting action!

  Read the other action-packed books in Gary Paulsen’s

  WORLD OF ADVENTURE!

  The Legend of Red Horse Cavern

  Will Little Bear Tucker and his friend Sarah Thompson have heard the eerie Apache legend many times. Will’s grandfather especially loves to tell them about Red Horse—an Indian brave who betrayed his people, was beheaded, and now haunts the Sacramento Mountain range, searching for his head. To Will and Sarah it was just a story—until they decide to explore a newfound mountain cave, a cave filled with dangerous treasures.

  Deep underground Will and Sarah uncover an old chest stuffed with a million dollars. But now armed bandits are after them. When they find a gold Apache statue hidden in a skull, it seems Red Horse is hunting them, too. Then they lose their way, and each step they take in the damp, dark cavern could be their last.

  Rodomonte’s Revenge

  Friends Brett Wilder and Tom Houston are video game whizzes. So when a new virtual reality arcade called Rodomonte’s Revenge opens near their home, they make sure they’re its first customers. The game is awesome. There are flaming fire rivers to jump, beastly buzz-bugs to fight, and ugly tunnel spiders to escape. If they’re good enough they’ll face Rodomonte, an evil giant waiting to do battle within his hidden castle.

  But soon after they play the game, strange things start happening to Brett and Tom. The computer is taking over their minds. Now everything that happens in the game is happening in real life. A buzz-bug could gnaw off their ears. Rodomonte could smash them to bits. Brett and Tom have no choice but to play Rodomonte’s Revenge again. This time they’ll be playing for their lives.

  Escape from Fire Mountain

  “ … please, anybody … fire … need help.”

  That’s the urgent cry thirteen-year-old Nikki Roberts hears over the CB radio the weekend she’s left alone in her family’s hunting lodge. The message also says that the sender is trapped near a bend in the river. Nikki knows it’s dangerous, but she has to try to help. She paddles her canoe downriver, coming closer to the thick black smoke of the forest fire with each stroke. When she reaches the bend, Nikki climbs onshore. There, covered with soot and huddled on a rock ledge, sit two small children.

  Nikki struggles to get the children to safety. Flames roar around them. Trees splinter to the ground. But as Nikki tries to escape the fire, she doesn’t know that two poachers are also hot on her trail. They fear that she and the children have seen too much of their illegal operation—and they’ll do anything to keep the kids from making it back to the lodge alive.

  The Rock Jockeys

  Devil’s Wall.

  Rick Williams and his friends J.D. and Spud—the Rock Jockeys—are attempting to become the first and youngest climbers t
o ascend the north face of their area’s most treacherous mountain. They’re also out to discover if a B-17 bomber rumored to have crashed into the mountain years ago is really there.

  As the Rock Jockeys explore Devil’s Wall, they stumble upon the plane’s battered shell. Inside, they find items that seem to have belonged to the crew, including a diary written by the navigator. Spud later falls into a deep hole and finds something even more frightening: a human skull and bones. To find out where they might have come from, the boys read the navigator’s story in the diary. It reveals a gruesome secret that heightens the dangers the mountain might hold for the Rock Jockeys.

  Hook ’Em, Snotty!

  Bobbie Walker loves working on her grandfather’s ranch. She hates the fact that her cousin Alex is coming up from Los Angeles to visit and will probably ruin her summer. Alex can barely ride a horse and doesn’t know the first thing about roping. There is no way Alex can survive a ride into the flats to round up wild cattle. But Bobbie is going to have to let her tag along anyway.

  Out in the flats the weather turns bad. Even worse, Bobbie knows that she’ll have to watch out for the Bledsoe boys, two mischievous brothers who are usually up to no good. When the boys rustle the girls’ cattle, Bobbie and Alex team up to teach the Bledsoes a lesson. But with the wild bull Diablo on the loose, the fun and games may soon turn deadly serious.

  Danger on Midnight River

  Daniel Martin doesn’t want to go to Camp Eagle Nest. He wants to spend the summer as he always does: with his uncle Smitty in the Rocky Mountains. Daniel is a slow learner, but most other kids call him retarded. Daniel knows that at camp, things are only going to get worse. His nightmare comes true when he and three bullies must ride the camp van together.

  On the trip to camp Daniel is the butt of the bullies’ jokes. He ignores them and concentrates on the roads outside. He thinks they may be lost. As the van crosses a wooden bridge, the planks suddenly give way. The van plunges into the raging river below. Daniel struggles to shore, but the driver and the other boys are nowhere to be found. It’s freezing, and night is setting in. Daniel faces a difficult decision. He could save himself … or risk everything to try to rescue the others, too.