Word of Mouse

by James Patterson

  “The security guard at the main gate just advised me that he encountered an animal rights activist attempting to gain access to this facility.”

  “That girl on the bicycle?”

  “We suspect she is a spy. Do not, under any circumstances, open this door.”

  “No, sir, Professor.”

  Mr. Brophy tugs on a key with a sort of squarish black plastic head. The key, and about a dozen others sharing the ring with it, are attached to his belt by an extendable cable.

  I watch as he slips the key into the lock and gives it a firm twist.

  Some rescue mission this turned out to be. I’m trapped. Locked inside the Horrible Place again, and my mouse army has no way of getting inside.

  I need to find Benji. He’ll know what to do.

  When Mr. Brophy isn’t looking, I slip out of the closet and sneak down to the room where they kept me and my entire family locked up in those plastic boxes.

  But the boxes have all been replaced by rolling racks of metal cages.

  “Benji?” I whisper.

  No answer.

  “Abe? Winnie?”

  Nothing. Maybe they’re all napping, exhausted from another round of research experiments.

  I ladder up the closest rack of prison cells to take a closer look.

  Oh, no.

  The cages are empty.

  My family is gone.

  CHAPTER 51

  “Necessity is the mother of invention. But she’s not a very nice mommy.”

  —Isaiah

  I don’t know what to do!

  My family is gone. Disappeared. Maybe they’re all dead.

  Or maybe they’ve all been shipped off to another Lamina Lab for different kinds of experiments. That article Hailey found said there were Lamina Labs all over the state—all over the country!

  I need to think. Think, think, think.

  Okay. The doors to this Lamina Lab are securely locked. My entire army of five thousand mice is stranded outside in a rusty pickup truck, and I’m basically a prisoner again.

  Yipes!

  Remember that nasty guard dog I told you about? The one whose bark I imitated to startle Lucifer?

  He’s sniffing his way down the row of cages, following my scent.

  He spots me. But he doesn’t bark and sound the alarm. He just growls and shows me his shiny fangs.

  The Doberman thinks he can scare me back into my cage, even though I don’t really have one anymore.

  I decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, so to speak.

  I bark just like he would!

  The guard dog is stunned. Confused. I seize my moment and take off.

  I zip out of the cage room and race down the nearest hall. It will only take the guard dog a few seconds to recover from his shock. I need to find a safe hiding place. Fast.

  I round a corner and, up ahead, see a window with a frighteningly familiar glow.

  It’s the Blue Room, the most horrible place in the whole Horrible Place. I remember it from my nightmares. I also remember that no animal in the lab, including the guard dogs, ever wanted to go anywhere near it.

  Because the Blue Room is where the Long Coats would do their dirty work. They jabbed us with needles and clipped electrodes to our heads and tails and anywhere else they wanted, no matter how painful.

  The door is slightly ajar. I see a sliver of blue light leaking out.

  I leap through the crack.

  The guard dog won’t want to follow me. He knows what goes on behind this closed door, and it isn’t pretty.

  Neither is what I see inside the Blue Room.

  All my brothers and sisters are squirming in sealed containers stacked against the wall. They’re a wiggly rainbow of glowing neon colors because of the ultraviolet light illuminating the room.

  “We’ll inject them one at a time,” says a short man in a surgical gown. His rubber gloves glow under the black light.

  “Let’s start with the red one,” says the tall Long Coat.

  Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no.

  It’s Abe.

  The tall Long Coat taps on a computer keyboard. “Opening container R-258.”

  A small light changes from red to green on the front of Abe’s holding bin. The door slides open. Then the other Bad Man plucks a scared, struggling Abe out of the box by his tail!

  CHAPTER 52

  “Leave no mouse behind.”

  —Isaiah

  The lab technician clutches Abe in one hand, a syringe in the other.

  He’s going to jab something horrible into my favorite brother.

  I need to do something stupid and foolish and dangerous.

  “STOP!” I shout. Humans can’t hear ultrasonic sounds, but I try to make my voice deep enough to be audible. And it works!

  The two humans stop what they’re doing to look around the room. They’re trying to figure out who’s yelling at them in such a tiny voice and where it’s coming from.

  “LET HIM GO!” I scream.

  They look down. See me.

  “It’s B-97!” says the short Long Coat. “The one who got away.”

  “Put the red one back in his box,” says his partner. “Grab the blue guy.”

  They plop Abe back into his plastic crate. Slam it shut. The green light turns red again.

  “Isaiah?” The thick walls of his plastic holding pen muffle Abe’s ultrasonic voice. But I can hear it even if the humans can’t. “Isaiah!”

  “Welcome home!” hollers Winnie in a voice that only mice can hear.

  “I thought you ran away,” grunts Benji. “I thought you were a coward!”

  “You thought wrong!” I tell him.

  And then, using my human voice, I scream, “YOU ARE MONSTERS!” as loud as I can.

  “He can speak?” says the tall Bad Man. “Wait until Dr. Ledbetter hears about this!”

  The two masked men lunge at me. I dodge away from their grasps.

  If they think a mouse speaking is awesome, wait until they see what I’m going to do next!

  When they both miss me a second time, I hop up to that computer keyboard—the one that the tall human was tapping on. I dance across the letters as quickly as I can. Here is what I type:

  open all

  Every single tiny red light on the plastic holding bins blinks to green.

  The prison doors pop open. My brothers and sisters hop out of their cages and scramble to the floor. All ninety-six (I did a quick head count) scamper around on the floor. The two lab technicians are trying to corral my mischief, but they forgot just how smart, fast, and clever they made us.

  “Head to the back room!” I tell my brothers and sisters.

  “And then what?” asks Benji.

  I take a deep breath and say the word I’ve been teaching myself to speak ever since I first heard Mikayla sing it:

  I tap-dance a few more jig steps on the keyboard. I stomp on the caps lock because, this time, I am screaming.

  OPEN BLUE ROOM DOOR

  The door flies open. My brothers and sisters zip out.

  The two Long Coats don’t chase after them. They’re too busy marveling at me.

  I distract them a little longer, hoping to give my family a head start to the back door. I keep typing.

  the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog

  “He just used twenty-six letters of the alphabet in one sentence!” says one.

  I type some more:

  it’s called a pangram, dummies

  “Trap him!” says the other.

  Uh-oh.

  What if I’m the only mouse who does get left behind?

  CHAPTER 53

  “Any plan is bad if it cannot be altered.”

  —Isaiah

  “Lock the door!” the two techs scream at each other.

  I leap off the rolling computer stand, hit the ground at a run, and sprint for the door.

  The two humans are right behind me.

  I’m pumping my legs as fast as I can, but so are the two gi
ants. One nearly steps on me!

  The faster of the two lab techs lurches forward and grabs the door handle. He’s pushing it shut, his thumb already on the lock button.

  But there’s a narrowing crack, about as wide as an envelope, as the door glides shut.

  I hold my breath, suck in my gut, and squeeze through—my tail barely squeaking free before I hear the door slam behind me.

  I also hear the ka-thunk of the lock sliding into place.

  “Unlock it!” yells one of the men inside the Blue Room. “He’s getting away! Unlock the door!”

  Behind me, I hear the jiggle of metal as the two technicians fumble with the lock and door handle.

  The coast is clear ahead of me. I race down the hallway, hang a right, and scoot into the room near the rear exit.

  Where I discover all my brothers and sisters being chased around the floor by an enraged Mr. Brophy.

  CHAPTER 54

  “You never fail until you quit trying.”

  —Isaiah

  “G reat plan, Isaiah!” shouts Benji sarcastically. “Send us to a locked and bolted door! Brilliant, little brother. Brilliant!”

  Mr. Brophy can’t hear my big brother, but he sure can swat at Benji with his broom.

  Luckily, Benji is nimble and quick. He dodges clear of the bristles just in time.

  But he’s right. My plan is ridiculous unless I can figure out a way to grab Mr. Brophy’s keys and unlock the back door.

  So I do something else I never thought I’d do. I cup my paws around my snout and shout up at Mr. Brophy. “HEY!”

  Stunned, he drops his broom and crouches down to peer at me. “You’re the one that got away,” he says. “Why, I oughta…”

  But before he can do anything, I spring off the floor and land on his bent knee.

  Panicking, he starts twirling around in frantic circles and swatting himself as if he is being attacked by a swarm of bees. I hang on tight.

  “Get off me, you filthy rodent!”

  I pay no attention to his insult. I dig my claws into the fabric of his green work pants and haul myself up his leg until I reach his belt and the clip-on key ring.

  “Need a little help!” I cry out. “Delphinia—form a tower!”

  Delphinia, my purple sister, is super strong. She whistles to the other acrobats in our family, and fifteen gymnastically inclined mice quickly form a tower that climbs about two feet off the floor.

  It’s halfway between the door and me.

  Keziah, who has better upper-body strength than anyone else in my mischief (she can bench-press a sack of sugar), is perched at the top.

  I grab hold of Mr. Brophy’s key ring.

  “Hey!” he shrieks. “Leave that alone.”

  I hiss at him, something I learned from his evil cat.

  Mr. Brophy’s eyes nearly bug out of his head when I do that. He’s frozen with fear.

  “Abe? Winnie?” I shout. “Pyramid. By the door. All the way up to the lock!”

  “You got it, bro!” Abe shouts back.

  He and Winnie quickly organize the rest of our family into a towering mouse pyramid.

  Now it’s my turn to become acrobatic.

  “Ready?” I shout to Keziah.

  She nods, and with Delphinia anchoring the bottom, the whole ladder begins to sway, back and forth, back and forth. When they build up a little momentum, I leap off Mr. Brophy’s hip and—clutching his key ring with my legs like a trapeze artist—fly through the air.

  The cable attaching the keys to his belt extends freely.

  Keziah grabs my front paws. She and the whole mouse tower powerfully swing me on toward the door.

  I arc up. Soar toward the top of the pyramid.

  I hear the cable snap. It’s okay—I still have the key ring tucked under my legs. And without the retractable cable, there’s nothing to slow me down or pull me backward.

  I just have to trust that Abe and Winnie, poised at the top of the pyramid, will catch me.

  The door is rushing right at me.

  I close my eyes an instant before impact.

  And feel four familiar paws grab me and hold me tight!

  CHAPTER 55

  “Things turn out best for the mice who make the best out of the way things turn out.”

  —Isaiah

  “Dr. Ledbetter?” shouts Mr. Brophy. “Professor?”

  The Mop Man runs out of the room.

  “We need to hurry,” I say. “Dr. Ledbetter is the big cheese. He’ll do anything to keep us imprisoned here.”

  “So many keys,” says Winnie, studying the collection on Mr. Brophy’s ring.

  “It’s this one,” I say, tapping the key with the squarish black plastic head. “I watched him lock the door!”

  I grab it. Abe and Winnie give me a boost, and I work the key into the keyhole.

  “Got it!” I shout when the key slips into its grooves.

  “Now you just have to turn it,” says Abe.

  I grab the side of the key with my front paws. “When I chomp into it with my teeth,” I say, “take hold of my legs and jump sideways. That’ll give us enough torque to twist the key!”

  “Got it!” shouts Winnie.

  Still clutching the key, I bite into it, too. This has to work, it’s our only chance, I think desperately.

  Abe and Winnie hold on to one of my legs, then jump off the mouse pyramid. They feel so heavy dangling from my foot, but that’s the point.

  Our combined weight turns the key and unlocks the door. With sheer relief I let go, and the three of us plummet to the floor. Fortunately, all the gymnast mice from Keziah’s tower have scampered over to catch us.

  Keziah catches me, cradling me in her arms. Delphinia one-hands Abe and Winnie. Our other brothers and sisters see that we’re safe and tumble out of their pyramid.

  “You did it!” shouts Abe.

  “No,” I say. “We did it. Hurry! We need to push the door open. Everybody, lend a shoulder.”

  My entire mischief, all ninety-seven of us, races to the base of the door. We all shove against it.

  It won’t budge.

  We shove again.

  Nothing.

  “You have to pull it open,” says a human voice behind us.

  We whip around. It’s Dr. Ledbetter. The two Blue Room technicians are with him. Mr. Brophy, too.

  “I guess we didn’t give you enough intelligence to figure out the difference between a door you push open and one you pull,” sniggers Dr. Ledbetter. “There are only two ways to open that door. One, you can yank on the handle and pull, but I don’t think any of you weigh enough to generate enough force for that to work. Two, you can have someone on the other side push it open for you. But the only person on the other side of that door is Tom, one of my best security guards.”

  Behind the door, I hear a pack of dogs barking.

  “Well, what do you know?” sneers Dr. Ledbetter. “Sounds like Tom brought along a few of his canine friends.”

  Smirking, Dr. Ledbetter bends over to study me.

  “It’s good to see you again, B-97. My colleagues tell me that you recently demonstrated some rather unusual talents. Ones I did not know I had given you. I can’t wait to open you up and see what’s going on inside that tiny little blue brain of yours.”

  Even though the creepy doctor is talking about dissecting my skull, I don’t flinch. Instead, I send an ultrasonic message to my mischief. “Step away from the door.”

  My brothers and sisters split down the middle and silently scurry to the sides of the exit.

  Then I send out another ultrasonic signal. The battle cry Gabriel and I agreed upon: “Set the captives free!”

  Outside, there’s a loud screech and thunk of metal.

  Apparently, while I’ve been busy in the lab, my mouse army figured out how to push open the tailgate at the back of Mr. Brophy’s pickup truck.

  And I imagine they’ll have absolutely no problem pushing open an unlocked door.

  CHAPTER 56
/>   “Sticks held together in a bundle are unbreakable.”

  —Isaiah

  The dogs on the other side of the door are the first to run away.

  Terrified by the overwhelming swarm of mice, they yelp and take off running.

  I also hear Tom, the security guard, shriek in fear. From the disappearing sound of his cries, I gather he’s running away, too.

  There’s a dull bang, and the steel door bulges forward at the base.

  “Again!” I hear Gabriel cry.

  Another rush of troops. Another bulge.

  “Someone has to twist the door knob,” I realize out loud. “Toss me up there, Keziah.”

  She grabs me under my arms and heaves me skyward like a shot put. I land on the knob, wrap my whole body around it, and give it a good twist to the right.

  But nothing happens. I’m not heavy enough to make the knob turn.

  As quick as lightning, my clever brothers and sisters spot the problem and come to the rescue. As they did before, Abe and Winnie leap up and grab onto my legs, giving me the weight I need to twist the knob downward.

  The army outside slams into the base of the door one more time. I hang on for dear life as it nearly flies off its hinges, bursting open.

  Five thousand mice pour into the room and quickly surround the four Bad Men, who are frozen in shock and fear. After all they’ve done to us mice, they have reason to be afraid.

  There are so many brown, white, and gray mice flooding the floor, the brightly colored members of my mischief disappear completely.

  I notice the smirk is completely wiped off Dr. Ledbetter’s face as he recoils in terror from the sea of mice at his feet.

  Then, above the squeaks of five thousand mice, there’s a new voice. “You see?” shouts someone outside. “No mice? They were lying to you, officers!”