by Max Brallier
I reach into my backpack and pull out my spear that was split in two from being dragged by the Ogre. I hand a piece to Johnny Steve. “We’re going to pole-vault. Like the Olympics. We can make it all the way across without ever touching water.”
For myself, I use the polearm I swiped from the Rifters.
Moments later, we stare out at the watery obstacle course. Then I take a deep breath, crouch, and launch, and we’re off—
I land solidly atop the roof of a floating truck. Johnny Steve follows—and after a slow, tense moment—Neon jumps, too.
I look around, find the peak of a slanted IHOP roof, and make the next leap.
BAM. Perfect landing.
We continue like this. No talking. We can’t afford to lose focus.
We’ve made it nearly halfway across when Neon seems to be gaining courage. We’re standing on the roof of a floating ambulance when Neon gives me this look, like he wants to make sure I’m paying attention.
Then, screwing up his face with determination, he swan-dives off the roof!
I see the moment when Neon would catch the breeze, if he had wings, and find myself holding my breath. It’s like I’m hoping maybe extra backup wings are suddenly going to spring out and take him up into the sky.
But . . . nope.
He SMASHES onto our next stop: a tangled mess of floating plastic. He tries to get to his feet, but instead he just lands flat on his belly.
“Neon! What were you thinking?!?” This is not the kind of setback we needed. But Neon’s the whole reason we’re doing this at all.
Suddenly, Johnny Steve is scurrying past me. “Coming, creature!” he says as he vaults off the ambulance and lands on the plastic island.
I’m next, and I hit the plastic surface and slide into Neon. He tries to get up, again, but slips and now he’s sliding toward the side. There’s a loud THWACK as he slams his talons into the plastic.
“Come on, Neon, you can do it! Put a little pumpkin to it!” Johnny Steve calls down. He looks over to me and says, “That’s one of my favorite human phrases.”
As Neon’s talons dig in deeper, I feel the floating hunk of plastic shake. Before I can respond, there is a loud—
BBRRRR-ERRMM
The plastic starts rising. I’ve been in situations like this before, and they don’t go well.
“June!” Globlet shrieks. “My tummy’s got the flutterbies!”
This plastic is not plastic, I realize. It’s skin. It’s a body. And it’s rising, coming out of the water, higher and higher.
“EVERYONE, GRAB ON TO SOMETHING!” I shout.
And they do.
Me.
The metal fingers of the Thing-A-Ma-Blasty Gadget Blaster press into this yet-to-be-seen creature’s hide.
“YOU GUYS!” I shout. “IF YOU ALL KEEP HANGING ON TO ME THEN NONE OF US ARE GOING TO BE HANGING ON!”
“DON’T WORRY, JUNE!” Johnny Steve shouts. “HUMANS CAN EASILY SURVIVE FALLS UP TO 92,470 FEET!”
“That’s not TRUE!” I shout
“In fact, it is! You just don’t know enough about—”
“QUIET!” I cry.
Glancing down, I see the floating ambulance below and behind us. It’s a big enough target—I think. I hope.
Any higher, and the fall will be deadly.
So I’d rather fall now.
“Guys,” I manage to spit out. Johnny Steve’s claws grip my ankle. “This is gonna hurt. But not on purpose.”
And then I jam my sneakers into the creature’s hide and kick-push us out, away from the creature, and we’re tumbling, dropping, plummeting. . . .
chapter fifteen
We fall.
And fall.
And then—
WHAM!
We hit the ambulance like four tiny comets, crashing to earth. Johnny Steve rolls onto Neon, then I crash into the pair of them, and Globlet flops onto my face.
I shake the cobwebs loose.
Looking up, I see a towering Blooper Burger sign. It’s rocking back and forth as the monster rises.
The ambulance is spinning like an inner tube in a wave pool. The sloshing, rolling water grows choppier. The massive monster fully emerges, turning toward us.
And I gasp, because—well . . .
“His face! He’s cute!” I blurt out.
“Ermahgerd, SO cute!” Globlet adds.
- Big Ol’ Wet Cutie! -
I hear Johnny Steve staggering to his feet. Neon’s talons pierce the ambulance hood, gripping it tight. My back is radiating pain.
“This is all a big giant mess,” I say. “But I kinda wanna snuggle that cutie. Is that so wrong?”
“Oh yes,” Johnny Steve says. “That is so wrong. That is a Ploonk. Ploonks don’t snuggle.”
Before I can ask why—I see why.
It happens lightning fast—in an instant, the Ploonk’s flesh rearranges itself! Bones bend, and its face is splitting, changing, and opening like the petals of some horrible, hideous flower.
Its huggable, pig-faced snout is gone—replaced by a face only a mother could love. And even then, that would have to be one hugely big-hearted mama.
The Ploonk’s maw opens wide, and a tornado of tremendous, screaming air is unleashed—
“HANG ON!” I shout.
A wave roils, the ambulance drifts back, and I do a near-backward tumble. Johnny Steve breaks my fall, seconds before I go toppling into the water. I pin him, he catches me, Globlet cheers. Teamwork!
The Ploonk’s short, plump arms extend outward. With slow, deliberate force—the monster slaps the water and—
SMACK!
Two rolling waves splash outward, and the ambulance nearly flips. Johnny Steve is grabbing Globlet by the back like a knuckleball. Neon is on his belly, hugging the roof.
“What a grump,” Globlet whispers.
“Maybe it’s over,” I say. “Maybe it just wanted to show off its ability to switch from cute piggy face to horrible nightmare fuel! And now—”
I stop yapping. I see six purple dots on the Ploonk’s hide, dripping purple ooze.
Monster blood.
From where Neon stuck his talons.
To quote Jack Sullivan, fisticuffs.
“Gang, we gotta get outta here NOW!” I say, whirling around.
But we can’t.
Because Neon is halfway in the water! He slides and his claws scrape against the sopping wet ambulance. There’s a spark of color as—
SPLOOSH!
Neon slips into the water.
“Neon, get back up here!” I shout. “No time for messing around! That giant monster is—”
“Bad,” Johnny Steve says. “This is all very bad. Baby Wretches can’t swim.”
It takes me a moment to process what Johnny Steve just said. And when I do, I spin around.
“NEON!” I cry out.
I slip and slide across the ambulance roof. Looking over the side, I see Neon. He’s staring up at me with wide, fear-filled eyes—as he sinks.
Another surge of water.
The Ploonk begins descending back below the surface. It’s going after Neon.
“Oh no you don’t,” I mutter.
I narrow my eyes, focusing, aiming the Thing-A-Ma-Blasty Gadget Blaster, then—
POOF!
I fire! A Quint-brand flexi-wire grappling hook rockets through the air, and—
The flexi-wire starts to go taut! The claw-hook is attached to the monster’s hide, but the rest of the wire is still inside the Thing-A-Ma-Blasty Gadget Blaster.
The Ploonk snarls, slapping the water. The wire tugs from the force of its weight, and I hold tight to the other end like a fishing rod. But it’s not enough to stop such a massive monster—and the Ploonk is on the hunt. It wants Neon.
I
t descends back under the water in pursuit, and I realize I have to go after it. I have to protect Neon. I quickly glance around, searching for something to secure the wire to. My eyes land on the ambulance’s long emergency light bar. With the push of a button, the flexi-wire releases from Blasty, and I tie it to the light before it unspools.
Okay, Ploonk, I think. If you’re mad now, just wait until you find out your butt is attached to an ambulance. “Johnny Steve!” I shout. “Get to the other side! I’m going after Neon!”
And before I can think about how stupid this is, I’m grabbing Globlet, slapping her onto my back, and diving! For a split second, in midair, I think about Saturday morning swim lessons, and silently thank my parents for forcing me to go all those times I didn’t want to. And then—
SPLOOSH!
I open my eyes, but all I see is inky darkness. Then—
FLASH! Globlet lights up, glowing bright: a shimmering sphere surrounding us.
I’m able to get a sense of my surroundings. Everything down here is eerie and floaty—it looks like a five-hundred-year-old shipwreck except it’s an entire modern-day town. . . .
I’m drifting among the cars and buildings, frantically searching the murky waters.
Then, down below, I spot air bubbles.
It’s Neon! I’ve found him!
He is in a complete panic, tail whipping, arms flailing. He does a frenzied barrel roll, scraping the ground, kicking up a cloud of ground dirt. I start kicking my way toward him, but just then his tail snaps out and—
KSSSHH!
His tail cracks the streetlight in half! I watch in horror as the metal pole topples in slow motion. There’s a muted, underwater SMASH as the streetlight lands, pinning Neon to the ground!
He tries to kick away, but jagged metal presses hard against his back.
I’m losing air. My brain, the survival part, is screaming at me: It’s a Winged Wretch! Winged Wretches are evil! Don’t die trying to save something evil!
And I want to listen.
But I can almost feel my conscience kicking me in the pants, reminding me that the hard thing is usually the right thing.
Stupid conscience! I think as I kick furiously, rocketing toward Neon.
We speed past soda cans and busted laptops, finally weaving around a bent stop sign.
And then I’m there, spinning underwater, bracing my feet against the ground. I pull up on the streetlight.
Neon’s eyelids are heavy, fluttering closed. I’m running out of time. . . .
As I’m pulling, my fingers brush Neon’s talons. And then one talon begins wrapping around my hand, like in the movies, when you see the newborn baby wrapping its chunky little baby hand around its dad’s finger.
I feel a sort of electric buzzing and—
FLASH!
A hurricane of images in my head.
Neon’s eyes are dancing. He’s not trying to do this. It’s his mind, racing, losing oxygen—he can’t control it.
These aren’t visions. These are memories. My memories! There are two of them, crystal clear. . . .
I manage to pull my hand from Neon’s buzzing talon. As I free myself from his grasp—
ZAP!
The visions end.
I’m back. Where I was. Underwater. I never left. But I do have a lot less oxygen.
I need to hurry.
I grit my teeth and pull Neon as hard as I can. I can’t hold my breath much longer, and the Ploonk is after us. But then Neon’s eyes suddenly open and—
KRAK!
Again, I’m transported.
But these aren’t my memories.
This is something else.
Something unearthly. . . .
Somewhere at the end of my arm, Neon’s talon is suddenly icy cold and gripping me tighter. I can feel his pulse—can feel his blood pumping just beneath the surface of his skin.
It’s weird.
But what I see is weirder. . . .
First —
KA-KRAKKKK!
Where are we now?
Is this here?
The vision is interrupted by an enormous—
SLAM!
The Ploonk! It’s back for Neon! The Ploonk swipes at him! I duck as Neon manages to burrow his head, and the streetlight is knocked aside.
C’mon! C’mon!
SLAM!
Another swipe, and now I’m somersaulting through the water. My vision is blurring. Somewhere, either above or below, I see Globlet’s faint glow.
My lungs feel like they’re on fire.
I want to swim for the surface, but I can’t tell which way is up. . . .
Then suddenly—something hits me! My eyes pop wide, and—
Neon still can’t swim—but one powerful leap and we are launched upward. His feet wrap around a crumbled building, and he catapults us upward again, beyond fast, and then—
SPLOOSH!
Neon rockets us out of the water! I gasp and finally take in a big breath of fresh air, dangling beneath him for a moment until we both crash down, flopping on the concrete shore at the edge of the lake. Safe for a moment.
I lie on the ground, completely done. I’m hacking up water—in a level of pain I’ve never had before.
I could lie here all day, I think. Good a place as any for a ten-year nap.
But before I can get too comfortable, I hear Globlet’s little voice in my ear. “June! Get up! The Ploonk is super extra mad now!”
It’s all I can do to roll my head around. And that’s when I see the giant Ploonk, the one who started this whole business, angrily stomping toward us. It crosses the strange lake in mere seconds.
The Ploonk’s final, furious steps position it directly over us. About to come crashing down, crushing us—
The Ploonk lurches forward and—
SNAP!
The grappling hook wire attached to the ambulance is still embedded in its hide! The Ploonk turns and roars in frustration. But as he does, his tremendous strength yanks the ambulance into the air!
It’s now sailing, flying, toward the Ploonk, and then—
SMASH!
The ambulance slams into the towering Blooper Burger logo!
The Ploonk gives a final lunge, then turns back. It stomps toward the Blooper Burger tower, whacking the sign as it tries to free itself.
“That grappling wire is Quint-built strong,” I say. “But it won’t last forever.”
“Let’s split like tight pants!” Globlet shouts.
Johnny Steve helps Neon to his feet, and then we’re all running.
But as we run—it’s not the massive monster I’m thinking about. It’s what Neon showed me—what I saw inside my head. . . .
chapter sixteen
We staggered away from the town square, finally taking shelter inside an old deli. It’s torn open from the inside, a vending machine lies smashed on the ground, and everything smells like soda syrup and ham.
Neon is moving slow—like each step hurts. His tail is coiled up, pressed back.
“Hey, Neon, you okay—” I start to ask, but then he looks at me, eyes wet, and suddenly collapses to the ground. A heavy thud.
“Neon!” I cry, and rush over—surprising myself by how worried I am. I run my hand over his curled tail. Neon winces and tries to wriggle away, like me at the doctor, trying to avoid a flu shot.
I manage to pull the tail aside—and I see glowing green liquid. It’s blood. There are long cuts atop his wing-stubs. That skin is soft, unlike the rest of his shiny hide. The falling streetlight must have sliced them open.
It’s not the first time I’ve needed a makeshift bandage during the Monster Apocalypse. . . .
The first week I was stuck alone at Parker Middle School, I sliced my leg bad. Worst part, it wasn’t e
ven an injury from something cool and heroic, like dodging a zombie horde. I was trying to butt-surf stairwell banisters near the art room. But the metal snagged my jeans, tore them open, and sent me sprawling.
I made it to the nurse’s office—only to discover that Nurse Carol was now Zombie Nurse Carol. She was stomping around the office like some sort of video game mini-boss. But, I was in luck!
I found an unwrapped Fruit by the Foot in the waiting area.
It made for the perfect bandage, until I woke up at two a.m. in desperate need of a snack. . . .
I learned a valuable lesson: don’t use yummy snacks as medical supplies.
“Fear not! I will find something to apply to his wounds!” Johnny Steve says. He gives Neon a gentle little scratch behind his ears, then races off.
I look back at Neon and wonder, again, if I’m just absolutely nutso for trying to help a Winged Wretch. I mean, this entire thing could be a trick to lure me to the Wretches.
Or worse—to lure me to Thrull.
No! I won’t believe that!
I saved Neon.
And he saved me. I’d be at the bottom of that flooded town square—permanently—if it wasn’t for Neon.
Sure, Neon is destructive. And rough. And stronger than he realizes. But after what we’ve been through, I just can’t believe that he’s evil like the other Wretches.
Before long I hear Johnny Steve. “I found medical supplies!” he says, hobbling around the corner. “Come see!”
“WOO-HOO!” Globlet exclaims. “Medical supply party! C’mon, June!”
Neon manages to get to his feet while Johnny Steve eagerly races ahead.
Two streets over, we find Johnny Steve. I’ve never seen someone so proud—and so wrong. . . .
“Johnny Steve,” I say with a sigh. “You found an ice cream truck.”
