The Butterfly Rebellion

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The Butterfly Rebellion Page 1

by Jack Patton




  With special thanks to Adrian Bott

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  EARTHWORM WARNING

  FORBIDDEN GLADE

  BATTLE STATIONS!

  TREETOP TERROR

  TOWER DEFENSE

  ALL TIED UP

  HIGH-SPEED ESCAPE

  PARADE PANIC

  AIR ATTACK

  REAL LIFE BATTLE BUGS!

  SNEAK PEEK

  ALSO AVAILABLE

  COPYRIGHT

  “Okay, you greedy birds,” Max Darwin said as he pulled the roll of netting over to the blueberry plot. “Let’s see you get through this!”

  The three birds sitting on top of Grandpa Mike’s shed stared down at him. There was a look in their beady black eyes that he didn’t like one bit.

  “They’re just normal birds,” he told himself, shuddering. “Hungry birds that want to eat Grandpa’s juicy berries, that’s all.”

  Max knew there was no need to be anxious around creatures that were so much smaller than him. Yet, ever since a flock of vermilion flycatchers had nearly eaten him alive on Bug Island, he’d always felt uneasy around birds.

  He unrolled a long piece of the plastic netting and pulled it all the way over the tops of the blueberry bushes. Next, he worked his way around the edges, pegging the net into place.

  Grandpa Mike’s garden had been a magical place for Max for as long as he could remember. His earliest memory was of reaching out for a strawberry, gleaming like a jewel in the sunshine, and seeing a magnificent green insect standing on top of it like a guardian. Ever since, he’d been fascinated by bugs and all things creepy-crawly.

  “That should do it,” he said, glancing up at the shed. No greedy bird was going to get its beak on his grandpa’s precious blueberries now.

  Just then, a delicious smell wafted over from the nearby house. Max’s mouth watered at the thought of the meal to come. Collard greens, cornbread, macaroni and cheese, bacon … all cooked up like only Grandpa Mike could.

  As if on cue, his grandpa’s face appeared at the window. “Food’s on the table for any hardworking young man that wants to come and get it!” he called.

  Max moved fast. He pushed in the last of the pegs, stomped them down with his foot, and sprinted back toward the house. Inside, the spread on the table made him grin. He settled in by the window so he could look out at the garden, grabbed his fork, and waited for Grandpa Mike to join him.

  “Dig in, Maxwell. You’ve earned it,” his grandfather said, sitting down.

  Max grinned, loaded up a huge forkful of mac and cheese, and devoured it. Soon, he was completely stuffed.

  After lunch, as they were clearing the table, Max peered out at the garden and up to the shed. Sorry, my feathered friends, he thought. You’re going hungry today.

  What he saw made his eyes go wide. The birds weren’t going hungry at all. Instead, they were swooping down and attacking the netting, ripping at it with their beaks and plucking the berries through the holes. And they looked pretty smug about it, too.

  Anger overtook him and he ran outside, waving his arms wildly.

  “Max, come back. We’ll double up the netting after my nap!”

  Max ignored his grandfather’s words. He shouted at the birds and they flew up, squawking rudely at him. They frantically flapped their way back onto the shed, giving him a look that said, “We’ll be back for more just as soon as you turn your back.”

  Max drooped down and stared at his feet, breathing hard. All his work was for nothing. Even the worms seemed to be laughing at him. They were sitting up and jiggling around.

  Wait, what?

  He took a closer look. Earthworms were poking up from the ground, waving their pink bodies as if they were trying to get Max’s attention.

  “Bug Island,” Max whispered. “They must need me over there, now!”

  Panic gripped him as he tried to remember where he’d left his magic book. The Complete Encyclopedia of Arthropods wasn’t just a bug reference guide; it was the gateway to a magical world. Once inside, Max would shrink down to bug size and join his friends, a group of intelligent talking bugs. As human adviser to the bug forces, he’d helped out many times in their war against the reptiles of Reptile Island.

  He wracked his brain. When did I use it last?

  Suddenly, he had it. It was when he was looking up a spider of some sort … a spider among the timbers of Grandpa Mike’s shed!

  He stared hard at the birds perched on the roof as he threw the shed door open. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be coming back for you!”

  He pulled the door closed behind him and dashed to the encyclopedia that lay on the workbench. It was already open to the map of Bug Island, as if it had been waiting for him, and the pages were lighting up the dark shed with their misty golden glow.

  Max took the all-important magnifying glass out of his pocket and drew closer. He held the magnifying glass over the map and in an instant was snatched off his feet. The call was a powerful one this time.

  Must be important, he thought.

  He whirled around, becoming smaller and smaller, as he was pulled into Bug Island once again …

  Usually when Max landed on Bug Island, he didn’t have a clue where he was. This time was different.

  As he tumbled through the warm air, he was met with thick, twisted branches and dangling vines. The ground below was richly carpeted with bobbing ferns, long snaking roots, and plants in striking colors. He could only be in the rain forest—and that meant the bug camp couldn’t be far away.

  Max smacked into leaves and twigs as he fell, and suddenly came to an abrupt halt, landing on a soft surface.

  “Phew!” he said as he sat up. “That was some ride.”

  He looked around him and saw he was on a spongy, bright scarlet flower. Long green spikes rose up in front of him like a row of needle-sharp teeth. Max pulled his hands off the sticky surface and waited for the plant to stop bobbing up and down.

  Something about the plant seemed familiar, but Max couldn’t quite tell what it was. The sweet, sugary scent rising from it was amazing though. His bug friends would probably find its nectar delicious.

  Where are they? he wondered. The exotic blooms smelled almost as good as Grandpa Mike’s cooking. This should be bug paradise!

  Max suddenly felt uneasy as he looked down at the plant’s bright red interior and across at the long needle-like spines. Above him was a second set of long green prongs, hovering right over his head.

  “Uh-oh,” Max murmured as he realized what he was sitting on. He’d landed right in the gaping jaws of a gigantic Venus flytrap.

  He knew that Venus flytraps had special trigger hairs inside them—the ones hovering over him at that very instant. Touching one hair wouldn’t do anything, but touching two in a row would snap the jaws shut. Then, whatever the plant had trapped inside would be digested alive. No wonder the bugs didn’t like it here—they could easily become dinner for a huge carnivorous plant!

  “Don’t move,” he told himself through gritted teeth. The jaws of the plant were still wide open—if he just kept still and put his brain to use, he might have a chance.

  Max slowly raised his left foot. One of the trigger hairs was crushed beneath it.

  “I must have landed on it when I fell,” he said miserably. “That’s my one strike used up …”

  He could clearly see the other trigger hairs sprouting like dark whiskers from the plant’s juicy red inside. They should be easy enough to avoid, if he could just go slowly and resist the urge to run for his life.

  Max carefully moved across to the side of the jaws, steering clear of the trigger hairs. His sneakers made squishing sounds, and sweet juices bubbled up underfo
ot.

  He came to the edge and readied himself to jump. A breeze wobbled the whole plant. As he struggled to regain his balance, he grabbed out for the first thing he could find.

  Suddenly, he let go in horror: It was a trigger hair! But before Max could blink, the great green jaws closed with astonishing speed. He flung himself into the air, but the jaws closed on his foot, leaving him dangling from the mouth of the hungry flytrap.

  “Argh!” he cried. “Get off me!” He wiggled and struggled until his foot came free with a noisy slurp and he landed, gasping, in the leafy mulch below.

  Picking himself up, he saw the whole area was overgrown with sinister-looking plants. Venus flytraps’ spiny jaws gaped like alien life-forms. Pitcher plants glistened invitingly, offering any passing bug all the nectar they could drink—at the price of being plunged into a stomach full of digestive fluid. Sundews lay in wait, the tips of their tentacles glistening with gluey drops. Max knew what would happen if he brushed against one. The plant’s tentacles would close like a fist, trapping him inside a sticky mass with no hope of escape.

  This isn’t bug paradise, Max thought. It’s a bug graveyard!

  Max ran as quickly as he could through flowers that towered high above him. Up ahead were the flat leaves of a Mimosa plant, looking like the feathers on an arrow shaft. Max ran down the plant’s entire length like a high wire at the circus. Its leaves furled up behind him as he passed, clutching like fingers.

  His chest ached from running. He caught sight of a clearing up ahead and sprinted toward it. It seemed free from carnivorous plants. Hopefully there wasn’t something even worse lurking in wait …

  Max staggered into the clearing and ran right into something colorful towering above him. It had four enormous bluish-green petals: two large ones above and two smaller ones below.

  As Max looked up, the “petals” twitched.

  They aren’t petals, they’re wings! he thought, amazed.

  The plant wasn’t a plant at all. It was a butterfly—but it dwarfed any other butterfly Max had ever met before!

  “You’ve finally come,” the butterfly said. “I knew you would one day. I knew I could not hide from the war forever.”

  “Excuse me?” Max asked, confused. He was panting and out of breath.

  “You are Max? General Barton’s adviser?”

  “That’s me.”

  “My name is Alexis.”

  That name rang very loud bells in Max’s memory. “You’re a Queen Alexandra’s birdwing, aren’t you? The biggest butterfly in the world!”

  “I am.” Alexis sighed. “I was a warrior once, but no longer.”

  “Why?” Max asked cautiously, wondering how a bug with no visible weapons could be a warrior.

  Alexis was silent for a moment, then he sighed again. “We birdwings were elite battle transports when the lizards first began attacking. We would fly into battle with other bugs on our backs, bringing them within striking distance. We carried scorpions, spiders, even centipedes.”

  “You must have been awesome!” Max said.

  “We were,” Alexis said. “We were so effective that the reptiles were determined to wipe us out. They ambushed us with a deadly attack. I was the only survivor.”

  Max understood. “So you hid away from the war.”

  “Yes. General Barton assigned me to watch over the Forbidden Glade, where it’s quiet.”

  “I see,” Max said, feeling deeply sorry for the beautiful creature. “I know that you want to stay away from the fight, but I could use your help to get out of here. There are carnivorous plants everywhere.”

  “I haven’t transported anyone in a long time,” Alexis said doubtfully.

  Max peered into the glade. The walk to the bug camp would take longer than getting a ride, but it wasn’t impossible. “I guess I’ll walk then, and take my chances with the Venus flytraps.”

  As Max turned to go, Alexis let out a cry of alarm.

  “Look!” he said.

  Max tilted his head up. In the distance he could just make out a shadow crossing the sky. Dark shapes were flying from the direction of Reptile Island, headed straight for the center of the forest. And they were fast.

  “Birds!” he gasped. “I have to warn Barton.”

  Max quickened his pace through the deep foliage, but was soon stopped by a deep voice behind him.

  “Wait!” Alexis called. “I want to help you.”

  “What do you mean?” Max asked.

  “I may no longer be in the trenches,” Alexis started, “but I’m still a Battle Bug. Climb aboard.”

  Max smiled in relief and clambered onto Alexis’s body. In an instant, the huge, colorful wings began to whir, and Max launched into the sky.

  Moments later, Max and Alexis touched down in the center of General Barton’s camp, among a crowd of excited bugs. The insects should have been at battle stations like usual, but instead they were wandering around like they were on vacation.

  “Max!” called Spike, the emperor scorpion and Max’s best friend. “Arriving in style, eh? And on a birdwing, too. I haven’t seen one of those in years! You’re just in time …”

  Max was about to ask, “In time for what?” but he never got the chance.

  A dark shadow swept across the sky. Then came another and another. Fearful bugs looked up, and cries of alarm rang out.

  Max looked at Spike. “I was about to tell you, but …” Max started.

  “Take cover!” Spike roared above Max. “The birds are back!”

  All at once, the birds came swooping in, screeching as they flew. They let out a war cry that sent the smaller bugs running in fright. As they came closer, Max got his first clear look at them. They were slender, with long tail feathers and brightly colored plumage.

  Max gasped. “Bee-eaters!” Like the name suggested, these dangerous birds were a bug’s worst nightmare. Their preferred snack of choice: flying insects.

  “Battle stations!” Spike shouted. “Bombardier beetles to the towers. Mantises, stand by to grab any birds that come close enough.”

  Max bravely stood his ground and looked up at the oncoming bird forces. They were coming in low, almost brushing the treetops.

  In seconds, the Battle Bugs were ready. Stern-faced bugs stood on all the walkways and guard towers. They knew what to expect. The birds would make a power dive and snatch up as many bugs as they could. That would be the land bugs’ only chance to attack them.

  “We need flyers! Where’s Buzz and her squadron?”

  “Practicing formation flight,” Spike grunted.

  “What? Why on earth would Buzz waste time with that fancy stuff when the lizards could strike at any moment?” Max asked.

  “She didn’t know there was going to be a bird attack, little buddy. The lizards have been very quiet lately!” Spike said.

  Any second now, the birds would be upon them. Max grabbed a heavy piece of wood and climbed onto Spike’s back, ready for the fight.

  The birds kept coming until they drastically changed course and went swooping over the Battle Bugs’ heads and on across the forest—missing the camp completely.

  “They’re not attacking,” Spike said as he watched the birds swoop past the camp. “I’m very confused.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I don’t like it when I’m confused.”

  Max squinted after the birds. Was this just a scouting mission?

  Then he realized he’d missed something.

  “Spike, I think they’re carrying passengers!”

  Max shielded his eyes from the sun. Every one of the birds had a little lizard clinging to it. As Max watched, the lizards sprang off the birds and spread their arms and legs out. Broad flaps of skin fanned out between their limbs and their bodies, letting them glide on the air. Like paratroopers, they sailed gently down to the top of the forest canopy. Once they were safely among the uppermost branches, they clung to the bark and wiggled out of sight.

  “There’s only one kind of lizard tha
t can glide like that,” Max said. “Draco flying lizards.” Draco meant “dragon,” he remembered. Even though they didn’t breathe fire, they were still fearsome reptiles.

  With their flying lizard passengers dropped off, the birds wheeled around and went winging back the way they’d come. Back to Reptile Island, thought Max, to report to whatever new commander is running things over there. General Komodo had fallen, but others had tried to take his place, such as the crocodile Longtooth.

  “Where did they go?” a mantis sentry asked.

  “It looks like they’re hiding in the trees,” Max said.

  “Permission to lead a force up there to check things out, sir?”

  “Permission denied,” Max said firmly. “For all we know, that’s exactly what they want us to do. By the time we get our bugs up there, they could have flown to a new location—or worse, picked half of us off!”

  The mantis was about to protest, but Spike shook a threatening pincer at him. “You heard Max. With General Barton away, he’s the senior commander here. So you do as he says.”

  Max blinked. “Barton’s away? Where is he?”

  Spike mumbled something and shuffled his feet.

  “Spike?”

  “He’s having his shell polished,” Spike said.

  Max stood dumbfounded. “Are you serious? Buzz is doing loop-the-loops, Barton’s polishing his shell … I suppose Webster’s weaving a party banner?”

  “Close,” Spike grunted. “It’s a military banner.”

  “A military banner?” Max asked.

  “For the parade! I’ve been trying to tell you since you got here!” Spike burst out. “There’s no emergency … Well, there is now, but there wasn’t before. We’re having a grand military parade tomorrow to keep everybody’s spirits up and show our enemies we’re not to be messed with. Obviously, you are invited. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  Max smiled and patted the big scorpion on the head. “Thanks, buddy. Sounds like you went to a lot of trouble.”

  “Barton’s at the parade ground on the other side of the forest,” Spike said, sounding happier now.

 

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