by R. L. Stine
A few seconds later, he came jogging back. “Sorry. Too fast for you?” he called.
I nodded. “A little.”
He rested a gloved hand heavily on my shoulder. His gray eyes peered at me solemnly through the slits in his mask. “Do you have wall-climbing abilities?” he demanded.
I shook my head. “No. Sorry.”
“Okay. We’ll take the stairs,” he said.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall. He moved so fast, both of my feet were in the air.
I guess it was impossible for him to go slow.
The walls whirred past in a bright green blur. He pulled me around a corner, then another corner.
I felt as if I were flying! We were moving so fast, I didn’t have time to breathe.
Around another corner. Then through an open doorway.
The doorway led to a flight of steep, dark stairs. I peered up to the top, but I could see only heavy blackness.
I expected The Galloping Gazelle to pull me up the stairs. But to my surprise, he stopped just past the doorway.
He narrowed his eyes at the stairs. “There is a disintegrator-ray there,” he announced, rubbing his square jaw thoughtfully.
“A what?” I cried.
“A disintegrator-ray,” he repeated, his eyes locked on the stairs. “If you step into it, it will disintegrate you in one hundredth of a second.”
I swallowed hard. My entire body started to tremble.
“Do you think you can jump the first two steps?” The Galloping Gazelle asked.
“You mean—?” I started.
“Land on the third step,” he instructed. “Get a good running start.”
I’ll need it, I thought, staring at the steep steps.
I suddenly wished I hadn’t eaten so many Pop-Tarts and bowls of Frosted Flakes for breakfast every morning. If only I were a little slimmer, a little lighter.
“Get a good running start and make sure you clear the first two steps,” The Galloping Gazelle warned. “Land on the third step and keep moving. If you land on the first or second step, you’ll disintegrate.” He motioned with his fingers. “Poof.”
I let out a low, frightened moan. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to be brave. But my body wasn’t cooperating. It was shaking and quaking as if I were made of Jell-O.
“I’ll go first,” the superhero said. He turned to the stairs, bent his knees, stretched both hands forward—and leaped over the invisible disintegrator-ray. He landed on the fifth step.
He turned around and motioned for me to follow. “See? It’s easy,” he said brightly.
Easy for you! I thought darkly. Some of us don’t have dyno-legs.
“Hurry,” he urged. “If you stop to think about it, you won’t be able to do it.”
I’m already thinking about it! I thought.
How can I not think about it?
“I—I’m not very athletic,” I murmured in a tiny, trembling voice. What an understatement! Whenever the kids I know play any sports, I am always the last kid chosen for a team.
“Hurry,” The Galloping Gazelle urged. He reached out both hands. “Take a good running jump, kid. Aim for the third step. It isn’t that high. I’ll catch you.”
The third step looked about a mile in the air to me. But I held my breath, bent my knees, took a running leap—my best leap—
—and I landed with a hard thud on the first step.
21
I screamed and clamped my eyes shut as the disintegrator-ray poured through me, and my body crumbled into thin air.
Actually, I didn’t feel anything.
I opened my eyes to find myself still standing on the bottom step. Still in one chubby piece.
“I—I—I—” I stammered.
“I guess he doesn’t have it turned on,” The Galloping Gazelle said calmly. He smiled at me through the mask. “You caught a break, kid.”
I was still trembling. Cold beads of sweat rolled down my forehead. I couldn’t speak.
“Hope your luck holds out,” The Galloping Gazelle muttered. He turned and started up the stairs, his cape floating behind him. “Come on. Let’s go meet our destiny.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.
But I didn’t like anything that was going on. The Galloping Gazelle had said that I was lucky.
But I certainly didn’t feel lucky as I followed him up the dark stairs.
At the top landing, he pushed open a wide metal door, and we stepped into an amazing room.
The room glowed with color. It was decorated like an office, the fanciest, most luxurious office I have ever seen.
The shaggy white carpet was soft and so thick, I sank in it nearly to my ankles. Silky blue curtains were draped over enormous windows that overlooked the town. Sparkly, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.
Velvety couches and chairs were arranged around dark wood tables. One wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, each shelf filled with leather-covered books.
A giant TV screen—dark—stood in one corner. Beside it, a wall of electronic equipment. Enormous oil paintings of green farm fields covered one wall.
A shiny, gold-plated desk stood in the middle of the room. The tall desk chair behind it looked more like a throne than a chair.
“Wow!” I cried, lingering near the door, my eyes taking in the splendor of the vast room.
“He treats himself nice,” The Galloping Gazelle commented. “But his time is over.”
“You mean—?” I started.
“I’m too fast for him,” the superhero boasted.
“I’ll run circles around him, faster and faster—until I become a raging tornado. He’ll be swept away forever.”
“Wow,” I repeated. I didn’t know what else to say.
“He caught me napping before,” The Galloping Gazelle continued. “That’s the only way he can catch me. When I’m asleep. Otherwise, I’m much too fast for him. Too fast for anybody. Know how fast I run the one-hundred?”
“How fast?” I asked.
“I run it in one-tenth. One-tenth of a second. That would be an Olympic record. But they don’t let me in the Olympics because I’m a mutant.”
I started to follow The Galloping Gazelle to the center of the room. But I stopped when I heard the laughter.
The same cold laughter I had heard in the lobby.
I froze in fright.
And stared as the gold desk began to move. And change.
The shiny gold shimmered as it shifted and bent, raising itself up and forming a human figure.
I took a step back, trying to hide behind The Galloping Gazelle as the desk melted away—and The Masked Mutant rose up in its place.
His dark eyes burned menacingly through the slits in his mask. He was a lot taller than he appeared in the comic. And a lot more powerful-looking.
And a lot scarier.
He raised a fist at The Galloping Gazelle. “You dare to invade my private office?” he demanded.
“Say good-bye to all this ill-gotten splendor,” The Galloping Gazelle told the Mutant.
“I’ll say good-bye to you!” The Masked Mutant shot back, spitting the words angrily.
Then he turned his frightening, cold eyes on me. “I’ll handle you easily, Gazelle,” the world’s most evil supervillain said softly. “But, first, watch me destroy the kid!”
22
I shrank back as The Masked Mutant took a step toward me, his fist still raised, his black eyes glaring furiously into mine.
My heart pounding, I turned and frantically searched for a hiding place.
But there was nowhere to hide.
And I couldn’t make a run for it. The door slammed shut as The Masked Mutant moved closer.
“Whoa!” I cried. I raised both hands in front of my face, as if shielding myself.
I couldn’t bear to see his cold, cruel eyes glaring at me as he approached.
He’s going to destroy me, I thought. But I don’t have to watch!
“No problem,” The Masked Mutant declared softly.
But his expression changed as The Galloping Gazelle began to circle him. Faster and faster—until the Gazelle appeared to disappear into a whirling, spinning tornado of blue and red.
The Gazelle is carrying out his plan, I realized as I backed up to the wall. He’s going to run faster and faster around The Masked Mutant until he creates a whirlwind that will blow the evil Mutant away.
Pressing my back against the wall, I watched the amazing battle eagerly. The Galloping Gazelle whirled faster. Faster. So fast, a powerful wind swept over the room, slapping the curtains, toppling over a vase of flowers, sending books flying from the shelves.
Yes! I thought happily, shooting both fists into the air. Yes! We win! We win!
I lowered my hands and let out a horrified groan when I saw The Masked Mutant casually stick his foot out.
The Galloping Gazelle tripped over the foot and slammed facedown onto the floor with a shattering thud.
He bounced hard a couple of times and then lay still.
The wind stopped. The curtains fell back in place.
The Masked Mutant stood over the fallen superhero, hands triumphantly on the waist of his costume.
“Get up!” I screamed, without even realizing I was doing it. “Get up, Gazelle! Please!”
The Gazelle groaned, but didn’t move.
“Dinnertime,” sneered The Masked Mutant.
My back pressed hard against the wall, I stared in horror as The Mutant began to change again. His face twisted and appeared to flatten. His body lowered, and he leaned forward, spreading his hands on the floor.
He stepped forward as a snarling leopard. Tilting its head to one side, the leopard uttered a ferocious growl of attack.
Then it arched its back, tensed its back legs—and leaped on to the sprawled body of The Galloping Gazelle.
“Get up! Get up, Gazelle!” I shrieked as the leopard attacked.
The Masked Mutant clawed and gnawed at the helpless Gazelle.
“Get up! Get up!” I screamed.
To my shock, The Galloping Gazelle opened his eyes.
The ferocious leopard ripped away the bottom of The Gazelle’s mask with its teeth.
The Galloping Gazelle rolled out from under the enormous beast and scrambled to his feet.
With a roar, the leopard swiped its paws, sending a long tear down the length of The Gazelle’s cape.
“I’m outta here!” The Gazelle cried, making tracks to the door. He turned back to me. “You’re on your own, kid!”
“No! Wait!” I screamed.
I don’t think The Gazelle heard me. He shoved open the door with one shoulder and vanished.
The door slammed behind him.
Quickly, the leopard changed, rising up on its hind legs, its body shifting and moving—until The Masked Mutant stepped forward.
He smiled at me as he approached, a cold, menacing smile.
“You’re on your own, kid,” he said softly.
23
I edged along the wall as The Masked Mutant moved slowly, steadily toward me. I knew I couldn’t get to the door, as The Galloping Gazelle had. I wasn’t fast enough.
He should call himself The Galloping Chicken! I thought bitterly.
How could he save his own skin and leave me here like this?
I couldn’t run. I couldn’t fight. What could I do?
What could I do against a deadly foe who could turn himself into anything solid?
The Masked Mutant stopped in the center of the room, hands on his waist, his dark eyes twinkling. He was enjoying my fright. And already tasting his victory.
“What are your powers, kid?” he demanded, a sneer in his voice.
“Huh?” His question caught me by surprise.
“What are your powers?” he repeated impatiently, swirling his cape behind him. “Do you shrink down to a tiny bug? Is that your secret?”
“Huh? Shrink? Me?” I was shaking so hard, I couldn’t think straight.
Why was he asking me these questions?
“Do you burst into flames?” he continued, moving closer. “Is that your power? Are you magnetic? Are you a mind-fogger?” His voice turned angry. “What is it, kid? Answer me! What is your power?”
“I—I don’t have any powers,” I stammered. If I pressed any harder into the wall, I’d become part of the wallpaper!
The Masked Mutant laughed. “So you won’t tell me, huh? Okay, okay. Have it your way.”
His smile faded. His dark eyes turned cold and hard. “I was just trying to make it easy on you,” he said, moving even closer. “I want to destroy you in the easiest way possible.”
“Oh. I see,” I muttered.
My eye caught something on the shelf. A large, smooth stone as big as a coconut. It was some kind of decoration. I wondered if it would make a good weapon.
“Say bye-bye, kid,” he said through clenched teeth.
He came toward me quickly.
And as he moved, I grabbed the big stone off the shelf. It was a lot heavier than I’d thought. It wasn’t stone, I realized. It was shaped like a smooth stone. But it was made of solid steel.
I hoisted it up and took careful aim. Then I heaved it at The Masked Mutant’s head. And missed.
The stone thudded heavily onto the carpet. “Nice try,” he muttered…
…and moved quickly to destroy me.
24
I tried to duck away from him, but he was too quick.
His powerful hands grabbed me around the waist and lifted me off the floor.
Higher. Higher.
I realized he was moving his molecules, making his arms stretch until he had lifted me above the chandelier.
I thrashed my arms and legs and tried to squirm away. But he was too strong.
Higher. Higher. Until my head banged hard against the ceiling, at least twenty feet above the floor.
“Happy landings!” The Masked Mutant cried gleefully as he prepared to drop me and send me plummeting to my doom.
But before he could drop me, I heard the door swing open.
The Masked Mutant heard it, too. Holding me suspended in the air, he turned to see who had entered. “You!” he cried in surprise.
High above the floor, I squirmed around and bent my head to see through the chandelier. The light sparkled through the crystals, making it impossible to see.
“How dare you burst in here!” The Masked Mutant cried to the intruder.
He lowered me a little. Just enough for me to see the doorway.
“Libby!” I cried. “What are you doing here?”
25
The Masked Mutant lowered me to the floor and turned to face Libby. My legs were wobbling so badly, I had to grab on to a bookshelf to hold myself up.
“Libby—get out of here! Get away!” I tried to warn her.
But she stormed into the room, her red hair flying behind her. She had her eyes on me and completely ignored The Masked Mutant.
Doesn’t she know that he is the most evil supervillain in the known universe?
“Skipper—didn’t you hear me calling you?” Libby demanded sharply.
“Huh? Libby—”
“I was across the street,” she said. “I saw you going into this building. I called to you.”
“I—I didn’t hear you,” I stammered. “Listen, you’d better get out of here, Libby.”
“I’ve been searching and searching for you,” she continued, ignoring my warning, ignoring my frantic gestures. “What are you doing in here, Skipper?”
“Uh… I really can’t talk right now,” I replied, pointing to The Masked Mutant.
He stood impatiently, hands at his waist, tapping his boot on the carpet. “I see that I will have to destroy yo
u both,” he said quietly.
Libby spun around. She seemed to notice the supervillain for the first time. “Skipper and I are leaving now,” she said with a sneer.
I gasped. Didn’t she know who she was talking to?
No. Of course she didn’t know. She reads only High School Harry & Beanhead comics. She has no idea how much danger we are in! I realized.
“I’m sorry,” The Masked Mutant replied, sneering back at Libby from under his mask. “You are not leaving. In fact, you are never leaving this building again.”
Libby glared back at him, and I saw her expression change. Her green eyes grew wide, and her mouth dropped open.
She took a step back until she stood beside me. “We have to do something,” she whispered.
Do something?
What could we do against the monstrous mega-mutant?
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t think of how to answer her.
The Masked Mutant tossed back his cape and took a step toward us. “Which one of you wants to go first?” he demanded softly.
I turned and saw that Libby had backed up to the bookshelves. She pulled a yellow plastic toy gun from her backpack.
“Libby—what are you doing?” I whispered. “That’s just a toy!”
“I know,” she whispered back. “But this is a comic book—right? It can’t be real. So if it’s a comic book, we can do anything!”
She raised the plastic toy pistol and aimed it at The Masked Mutant.
He let out a cold laugh. “What do you plan to do with that toy?” he asked scornfully.
“It only l-looks like a toy,” Libby stammered. “It’s a Molecule-Melter. Leave this room—or I’ll melt all your molecules!”
The Mutant’s smile grew wider. “Nice try,” he said, flashing two rows of perfect, white teeth.
He narrowed his eyes at Libby and took another step toward her. “I guess you want to go first. I’ll try not to hurt you—too much.”
Libby held the toy gun in front of her with both hands. She gritted her teeth, preparing to pull the trigger.