Attack of the BULLIES

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Attack of the BULLIES Page 8

by Michael Buckley


  Ruby peered out into the great blue oblivion as she pulled the flight suit over her school clothes.

  “Um, aren’t we forgetting something very important … like parachutes?”

  “If you pull the cord on your waist, you’ll release something better—wings!” Duncan shouted over the noise.

  “Wings?” Ruby cried.

  Duncan sighed. “Folks, we’re all given instruction manuals for this stuff. Am I the only one who reads them?”

  Jackson nodded. “Yes, you are.”

  “This is the ALZ-14 Aerial Assault Flight Suit. You pull the cord and two wings will extend from your shoulders, turning you into a human bird.”

  “One minute!” the principal cried from the cockpit.

  “And don’t forget the electromagnetic-pulse gloves,” Duncan said as he extended his hand to point out his special glove. It was black and covered in thin, silver wires that connected to a red disk on the palm. Ruby knew what an electromagnetic pulse could do to electronics. One blast and those robots would stop working.

  “All right, kids! We’re over the target!” the principal shouted.

  Flinch slurped down one very long red licorice rope like a little kid might eat a strand of spaghetti. “Fight robots! Aggghhhooo!” he cried as he leaped out of the rocket.

  Soon Ruby and the others were plummeting toward earth at skin-stretching speeds. Below her, and getting bigger by the second, was the Hoover Dam, one of the most impressive structures ever built by human hands. A long time ago, when Ruby actually went to classes, she had written a report on it. It was built between 1931 and 1936 during the Great Depression, and it provided electricity for cities hundreds of miles away. It was 660 feet wide, stood more than 726 feet tall, and held back 9.2 trillion gallons of water. It was so massive that some said an asteroid might not even topple it. If Ruby knew how tough the dam was, Miss Information would certainly have to know. She was a librarian, after all. Even if these chickenbots managed to destroy it, the nearest big town was 125 miles away, which meant it wasn’t an imminent threat to anyone’s safety. So what was Miss Information’s plan?

  When they were a quarter-mile over the dam, Ruby could squint and see tiny red explosions on the surface of the dam’s wall. She guessed the robots were already hard at work on their task. She checked her EMP glove to make sure it was powered and then squeezed her nose.

  “All right, Duncan, I’m ready to turn into Big Bird.”

  Duncan giggled. Gadgets always made him happy. Explaining how they worked was as fun as Disney World. “Do your best to level out of a nosedive. You want to be parallel with the horizon when you launch the wings.”

  Ruby and the others did as they were told.

  “Now, pull the rip cord and the wings will extend. Once they unfold, your fall will slow, and ropes will drop from each wing. Grab them to help you steer. Just remember two things: One, don’t get too close to the ground, and two, don’t get too close to the dam.”

  “Splat!” Flinch cried.

  “Splat,” Duncan said.

  “All right, here I go.” With the wind slamming into her stomach, Ruby pulled the cord and felt the wings unfold. Her fall came to an abrupt stop. She found the ropes Duncan mentioned and snatched them both. At first, the slightest pull sent her flailing, but she quickly learned how to make subtle adjustments. She could fly! With a slight tug to the right she soared along the dam, approached one of the robots, and aimed her glove. It fired with a screech. Unfortunately, she missed, and the skull-faced robot was undamaged.

  “Fudge!” she growled, steering back for another pass. This time she pulled closer to get a better shot, but as she approached, her target turned and blasted a stream of fire directly at her. She narrowly avoided getting a barbecued face and had to pat out a small fire on her leg. Worse, she missed her second shot.

  “Gluestick, this is a lot harder than you described,” she said over the com-link.

  “I agree,” Flinch said. “I gave up and went old-school.”

  Ruby scanned the sky for the hyper hero. She found him dive-bombing one of the robots. He walloped it with a power punch and it exploded in a blast of fire and steel. What was left fell into the river below.

  “The wings were getting in my way, too,” Matilda said, rushing past Ruby, fueled by her rocket-powered inhalers. When she got close to one of the robots, she destroyed it with a fiery blast.

  “C’mon, Pufferfish. You’re missing all the fun,” Braceface said. Two long tentacles made from his orthodontic implants emerged from his mouth, snatched a couple of Miss Information’s robots, and smashed them together. They crumbled and joined the others in the river.

  “This is too easy,” Gluestick said, soaring past Ruby and firing his EMP device at one of the robots. There was no explosion. With all its internal electronics fried, it just fell off the wall and into the water.

  “You better hurry while there’s one left,” Flinch said, kicking another robot so hard that it slammed into the side of the dam and exploded.

  Ruby pulled on the wings’ ropes to head back toward the metallic fiends. When she was close, she raised her EMP glove and fired. The robot turned its head to blast her, but this time she delivered an exact hit and it froze with a jerk. Then it fell off the dam and tumbled end over end into the water below.

  “Only three left, people,” Ruby said.

  “This was hardly worth the trip,” Matilda said, aiming her inhaler at one of the remaining robots. A hot blue flame came out of it and melted a hole in the robot’s skull-painted head. It exploded like the others.

  Ruby agreed. This was too easy. The chickenbots were barely hurting the dam wall at all, and aside from the flamethrowing they weren’t putting up much of a fight. Not all of Miss Information’s schemes were brilliant, but this one seemed downright dumb.

  “Uh-oh,” Gluestick said.

  “What’s ‘Uh-oh’?” Ruby asked. “I hate ‘Uh-oh.’”

  “They’re doing something,” Flinch said.

  Ruby looked at the three remaining robots. Their eyes had turned red, and a loud, pulsing beat came from within their metal chests. It sounded like a countdown.

  Suddenly, Ruby’s fingers felt swollen and her neck itched like crazy. She was allergic to bombs, and even more allergic to getting caught in an explosion.

  “Everyone!” she cried. “Go!” But she was too late. The three remaining chickenbots exploded at the same time. Ruby and the other agents were thrown backward. Her wings were shredded, making it impossible to stay airborne. She crashed into the cold, churning river below. As she sank deep into the water’s darkness, struggling to hold her breath, she unfastened what was left of her flight suit and swam with all her might toward the dim light above her. She broke the surface and gasped for air, and saw all of her teammates doing the same.

  “Is everyone OK?” Ruby gasped.

  “It was some kind of concussion bomb,” Gluestick said. “Look, it didn’t even hurt the dam.”

  Ruby turned and eyed the surface where the robots had once clung. All that remained was a charred stain.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “What kind of lousy diabolical plan was that?”

  Suddenly, all five of the NERDS sneezed. The com-link was open and Heathcliff was waiting.

  “Guys, we need you back here pronto,” he said. “There’s trouble at the White House.”

  “How much money do you want to put on it being Miss Information?” Jackson asked.

  “These stupid robots were just to keep us busy,” Ruby said. “She wanted us far away from Washington, D.C., and we fell for it. Heathcliff, tell the principal to pick us up pronto. We’re going to kick some serious supervillain butt.”

  TOP SECRET DOSSIER

  CODE NAME: MOUSE

  REAL NAME: ABRAHAM SHRIVEL

  YEARS ACTIVE: 1990–95

  CURRENT OCCUPATION: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER

  HISTORY: ABRAHAM WAS SMALL FOR

  HIS AGE. BY THE TIME HE
WAS

  TEN, HE WAS STILL ONLY THREE

  FEET TALL. IN THE FOURTH GRADE,

  HE SPENT NEARLY FIVE MONTHS

  BURIED BENEATH HIS CLASSMATES’

  COATS. BECOMING A MEMBER OF

  NERDS INCREASED HIS CONFIDENCE

  TENFOLD, AND HE CAN NOW

  BE SEEN WRESTLING FOR

  THE WWE AS “THE STUD.”

  UPGRADE: ABRAHAM’S UPGRADES

  CHANGED HIS CELLULAR

  STRUCTURE SO THAT HE COULD

  SHRINK TO ANY SIZE—EVEN

  MICROSCOPIC. BEING ABLE TO SLIP

  UNDER ANY DOOR, INTO ANY SAFE

  LOCK, OR THROUGH A KEYHOLE MADE

  HIM AN INVALUABLE AGENT.

  “Kids, if you’re going to cause a ruckus, start with a grand entrance,” Miss Information said as the School Bus slammed through the cast-iron fence that surrounded the White House. The bus tore across the lawn before skidding to a halt by the front door.

  “Are you nuts?” Snot Rocket shouted as he peered out the window. “That’s the White House! There will be guards everywhere. Oh, look, here they come now.”

  Miss Information peeked out her window. Snot Rocket was right. Secret Service agents in dark suits were crawling out of every nook and cranny. They were joined by a company of soldiers all carrying large weapons. The bus was surrounded within seconds.

  “What were you thinking?” Loudmouth bellowed.

  “I was thinking we’d try your powers out,” Miss Information said. “And fulfill a promise to Tessa at the same time. This is going to cause her dad all kinds of hassle.”

  “Couldn’t we have started off with a shopping mall or an old folks’ home?” Funk asked. “We need practice before we do something crazy like this.”

  Snot Rocket dug his finger into his nose. “We’re all going to jail. They’re going to throw us in a dark hole and never let us out.”

  “No one is going to jail, silly,” Miss Information said. “Look at those guards. They’re just regular people. Now look at yourselves. You’re experienced bullies with unstoppable superpowers. You’re machines of chaos! Besides, it’s not like you haven’t done this before. You guys have been a team for years.”

  Tessa turned to face her. “This is our first time.”

  Miss Information felt like someone had unleashed a hive of angry hornets inside her head. She thought she might barf and had to hold on to the seat in front of her to make sure she didn’t pass out. It’s what happened when she got confused, and lately, she was confused a lot. Of course, she knew Tessa was right. This was the BULLIES’ first mission. But her memories kept getting jumbled with the wild, unsettling dreams she had at night, where she was a librarian who helped a group of kids save the world. She was in love with a man who had amazing hair, and she wore an awful lot of cardigans. But those kids in her dreams were her worst nightmare in the real world. They called themselves NERDS and were responsible for ruining all of her plans. Why was she confusing the two? Was there something wrong with her?

  “OK, Tessa ‘Code Name to Be Decided’ Lipton. What’s the plan?” she asked, forcing the fog from her mind.

  The girl blinked back at her.

  “Tessa, this is your show. What do you think we should do to get your daddy’s attention?”

  She stared blankly at the White House.

  “Tessa, a good leader can come up with a winning plan no matter what the situation. We’re here and we’re surrounded. What should we do?”

  “Um …”

  Miss Information tried to be patient with her. She was probably just suffering from first-time supervillain jitters.

  “OK, listen up. As as you can see, we’re surrounded,” Miss Information continued. “If we try to get off this bus, they will arrest us. Luckily, we have someone with us who can change her appearance to look like someone very important—someone like the president of the United States. Isn’t that right, Tessa?” Tessa went to work twisting her face, until she looked like the identical twin of her father. Her holographic projector built a sharp blue suit just like the one her father wore. The rest of the team stared at her in awe.

  “See? What did I tell you? Coolest power ever!” Miss Information said, helping Tessa out of her seat and toward the front of the bus, where the Antagonist sat in his kitchen smock. He opened the door with his silver hook and wished them luck.

  Immediately, the guards and soldiers lowered their weapons.

  “Mr. President,” one of the guards said to Tessa. “We had no idea it was you. Where is your security detail, sir?”

  “Um … we got a flat tire, so they stayed with the car,” Tessa said in as deep a voice as she could muster. “And these fine, upstanding children offered me a ride home. Sorry if we’ve caused any problems.”

  “Perhaps we should get you inside.”

  “Good thinking. Kids, who wants a tour?” Tessa asked.

  The guard shook his head. “Sir, I’m sure we could schedule something, but the children need to be screened in advance.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Charles,” Tessa said. “Do children really need a full background check? They’re kids. What are they going to do—attack me with their bubble gum? We can make an exception this one time.”

  The guard looked to his colleagues and the soldiers behind him.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s not going to be possible.”

  “That’s disappointing. I suppose we’re all in for a big temper tantrum, then. The kids were really excited about the tour.”

  Loudmouth stepped forward and shouted something incomprehensible about mean girls and the time saltwater taffy got stuck in her hair. The sound waves were so intense that they knocked the entire group of armed agents and soldiers off their feet.

  “See what you’ve done?” Tessa said to the fallen agents.

  Thor pulled the front door of the White House off its hinges and broke it in half over his knee.

  Funk raised an armpit and emitted a gaseous green cloud that covered the building’s windows, pressing them inward until they shattered. Snot Rocket fired explosive boogers through the doorway. A moment later there was a KA-POW! Wood and plaster came flying through the opening.

  “Follow me!” Tessa cried, leading her team inside. Miss Information followed proudly. “This is the Green Room, team,” Tessa said. “My father uses it to meet with foreign dignitaries. The Queen of England sat on that chair once. He wouldn’t let me meet her. What do you think, Loudmouth?”

  “Nice place!” Tammy shouted, then turned her voice on the furniture. Antiques splintered, candelabras smashed through windows, and a chandelier worth a million dollars crashed onto a table and showered the room with a billion tiny crystals. An electrical fire ignited where the lamp once hung, filling the room with smoke and setting off a piercing alarm, but none of the BULLIES stayed long enough to be annoyed. There were other rooms to destroy.

  “This is my dad’s favorite room. They call it the Red Room. He likes to read in here when he should be asking me about my day,” Tessa said as she led everyone inside. The scarlet furniture was impeccable. “Funk, you’re up!”

  The filthy boy laid his hands on the wall and a black mold spread to every corner of the room and every piece of furniture. Soon, mushrooms were growing on chairs and fuzzy white ooze dripped off everything. The air turned sour and putrid, making Miss Information gag.

  “I need to show you the best room in the house,” Tessa said, rushing out of the Red Room with the rest of the team in tow. She threw open a door and ushered everyone inside. The carpet was a royal blue with the U.S. Great Seal stitched in the center. A large oak desk sat near a bank of windows covered in gold drapes. Several flags stood nearby.

  “The Oval Office,” Tessa said. “Daddy sits in here and drinks lemonade while he reads national security briefs. I’m not allowed to bother him. He calls it his sanctuary. I hate this room most of all. Tear this place apart!”

  Snot Rocket fired a booger at the desk and it exploded.
Thor picked up a chair and heaved it through a window. Funk caused a black stain to grow on the ceiling above them. Loudmouth screamed a hole into the wall.

  “Brilliant, Tessa!” Miss Information said.

  Tessa grinned. “They’ll never reelect a guy who let a bunch of kids destroy the world’s most famous house.”

  Miss Information laughed. “He’ll be lucky if they don’t hang him!”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said a voice from behind her. Miss Information turned and looked through the hole that Loudmouth had created in the wall. Five children stood on the lawn. Their leader had poofy blond hair and thick glasses. Next to her was a short African American kid, a heavy-breathing Korean girl, a kid with the worst set of braces she had ever seen, and a jittery kid stuffing orange circus peanuts into his mouth. Seeing them, the pain returned to Miss Information’s head. She stumbled, fighting to separate her dream world from the real one.

  “We know you sent us to fight your stupid robots at the Hoover Dam,” the blond leader said, “but you forgot something very important—we have a rocket.”

  “Ms. Holiday,” the Asian girl said. “We love you very much and we hope we can help you overcome whatever has control over you, but right now you’re about to get your butt kicked.”

  “Who’s Ms. Holiday?” Loudmouth shouted.

  “Who cares?” Funk asked. “What do we do?”

  “Attack!” Tessa said, and the two teams stampeded at each other. Paintings were torn apart, furniture was used as battering rams, punches connected with walls, and several fires broke out. The skinny Mexican kid went toe-to-toe with Thor. The kid with the braces wrestled with Funk. The flying Korean girl buzzed around Loudmouth. Snot Rocket had his hands, and nose, full with the chubby kid who could walk on walls. And Tessa swung a flag stand at the girl with the glasses, who kept breaking out in hives that vanished and reappeared in the blink of an eye.

  Miss Information, however, barely noticed the chaos all around her. She was trapped in a slide show of memories so bright and intense they were blinding. She saw a place like the one she had built for her BULLIES; it was called the Playground. There was a man there—a man who made her feel like she was finally home. His name was Alexander, and he was real and she loved him.

 

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