Camp Creepy Time_The Adventures of Einstein P. Fleet

by Dann Gershon

  Bucky spit out a mouthful of chili and shoved the bowl  aside. The nurse followed suit. Big Al aimed his blaster at them.  “Uh-uh. Keep eating.”

  Nurse Knockwurst and Bucky exchanged an uneasy glance.  The ax had just fallen.

  “Make  a plate  for yourself and join them,”  Big  Al  said  to Curly.

  “The chili is laced with salt tablets,” Curly repeated as he  filled his plate.

  “I know,” Big Al said. He kept the blaster pointed at them  until they finished every drop. Big Al tossed them the carton of  spiked Twinkies. “Who wants dessert?”

  “I think you’re being unfair,” Nurse Knockwurst grumbled.

  “I agree,” Bucky added. “It was Curly’s fault, not ours.”

  “Take it up with the kidnappers union,” Big Al replied, mo-tioning with his blaster for them to eat. A few seconds after  they finished the last Twinkie in the box, the salt tablets kicked  in. Big Al watched his crew members grimace in pain as their  transformation began. For a brief moment their alien bodies  appeared and then their DNA combined with their costumes,  locking them into their human forms. “Once the mission is com-plete, Nurse Knockwurst will distribute the antidote and you’ll  get your share of the loot. One more screwup and I’ll leave you  to rot in those bodies. Do we understand one another?”

  His crew shook their human heads as Big Al got up from  the table and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door  behind him. Nurse Knockwurst and Bucky glared at the cook.

  “Okay,  so  it  wasn’t  one  of  my  best  meals,”  Curly  said   sheepishly.

  15

  Cha p te r

  I

  Day Seven — 9:45 P.M. ’m worried about Greeley,” Einstein said as he paced back  and forth across the cottage. It was his turn to stand watch  while Roxie tried to get some sleep. They had agreed to alter-nate every three hours. Einstein stopped at the window and  scanned the area around the barn for any sign of activity. Satis-fied that they were safe, he moved away from the window and  resumed pacing.

  “Greeley knows what he’s up against,” Roxie replied softly.  “He’s been through this before.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Over forty years ago Greeley was faced with the same  situation. Big Al won that round. The kids were abducted   and  Sleepy  Time  was  destroyed.  Two  years  later  Big  Al  came back and killed him to make sure that there were no  loose ends.”

  “I wondered why Greeley was involved in this.”

  “Well, now you know,” Roxie said, her voice tense. “Greeley  has a score to settle.”

  Suddenly, Einstein had an idea. “If Greeley can get inside  the ship, we may have a chance,” he told Roxie. “All he has to  do is stick to Big Al like glue until he receives the coordinates.  Once we have the location, IMPS can handle the rest.”

  “Mucho Fahn is far too clever to be fooled that easily,”  Roxie said, shaking her head. “If he doesn’t hear from Big Al  exactly five minutes before the wormhole opens, Mucho Fahn  will automatically move the zoo to another location. I intend  to sneak aboard the ship and hitch a ride through the worm-hole, the same way that I got here. IMPS isn’t going to help,  Fleet. I’m flying solo on this one.”

  “What are you talking about?” Einstein asked.

  Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and dribbled  down her cheeks. “IMPS dropped the investigation over two  years ago. Mucho Fahn bought them off. This is Big Al’s last  mission. If it’s aborted, I may never find Mucho’s monster zoo.  That’s a risk I’m not willing to take. Greeley isn’t the only one  with a score to settle with these gangsters.”

  “What do you mean?” Einstein asked.

  “They kidnapped my little brother!” Roxie cried. “Three  years ago they came to my planet and took him. He’s out there  somewhere, Fleet. I can feel it.”

  Einstein lay down beside Roxie and held her gently in his  arms. “I’m sorry. What can I do to help?”

  “I want you to get out of here in one piece,” Roxie sobbed.   “I’ve already lost one person I love. Losing another would be  too much to bear.”

  Einstein held her closer and squeezed her tight. The mo-ment was suddenly broken by a rustling sound coming from  outside the cottage. Einstein sat up and it stopped. “Did you  hear that?” he whispered to Roxie.

  11 She sat up and drew her blaster. Roxie put her finger to her  lips and motioned for Einstein to be still. There was definitely  someone or something outside the cottage, moving slowly to-ward the window. It was tapping softly against the pane of  glass. The first tap was at the top. The next one was on the bot-tom. The frequency increased as the tapping grew louder. The  drumroll echoed throughout the cottage and then stopped.  The silence was deafening, but not as deafening as the roar  that followed. Suddenly, the window shattered into pieces,  sending shards of glass flying through the cottage. One by one,  ten black Tootsie Pop eyes poked through the window and  peeked into the cottage, all of them staring at Einstein.

  “Move back, Fleet!” Roxie warned him, but it was already  too late. The gloka had him by the ankle and was dragging him  across the floor. Roxie aimed at the scaly red tentacle and fired  twice. The gloka released its grip and retreated.

  Einstein jumped up and ran to Roxie. They moved to the  farthest point away from the window and waited for the gloka  to make its next move. “I thought we killed all the glokas,”  Einstein said, his voice trembling with fear.

  “Must have missed one,” Roxie whispered. “I guess the  campfire stories about Godzilla were true.” The female roared  again, rattling the walls. Suddenly, she burst through the side  of the cottage. Before Roxie could fire a shot, the gloka was on  top of her. “Run, Fleet!” she screamed.

  Einstein ignored her and picked up a piece of wood. He  clubbed the gloka over the head as hard as he could, hoping  it would release Roxie. He swung again, but the female was  too fast. Godzilla’s powerful jaws turned the two-by-four into  a toothpick, leaving Einstein defenseless. The female tossed  Roxie across the cottage and turned her complete and undi-vided attention to Einstein. Roxie’s head hit the wall hard and  she didn’t get up. Einstein couldn’t t
ell if she was alive or dead,  but there was no way to get to her. Godzilla slowly moved for-ward. Einstein closed his eyes, hoping that the end would be  quick and merciful. A barrage of blue beams suddenly filled the  cottage, striking the female all over her body. Einstein could  smell her burning flesh.

  As Godzilla backed away, he could hear Big Al shouting,  “Keep firing, you idiots!” Bucky and Nurse Knockwurst were  both crouched military style with their blasters blazing, while  Curly stood there and threw dirt clods. Godzilla roared at them  and cautiously backed away. The blasts bounced off her thick  metallic scales. It was like throwing rocks at a tank. While she  was distracted, Einstein took advantage of opportunity. He  turned tail and ran, quickly putting some distance between  himself and the cottage. Curly watched as Einstein disappeared  into the desert night. The female seemed to have lost her taste  for the blaster battle and retreated in the same direction.

  “I thought you said she was dead,” Big Al said, glaring at  Curly. “Can’t you do anything right?”

  Bucky nudged Big Al and pointed at the rubble. “It’s the  girl,” he said.

  “Is that the IMPS agent?” he asked Curly. The cook nodded,  afraid to speak. Big Al picked up the blaster and tossed it to  him. “I believe this is yours.”

  “She’s still alive,” Nurse Knockwurst said. “Do you want me  to finish her?”

  1 Big Al shook his head. “Take her to the spaceship. We’ll lock  down and spend the night there in case the female decides to  return. I’m not taking any more chances.”

  “What about Fleet?” Bucky asked.

  “If the female doesn’t get him, the desert will,” Big Al re-plied. “Either way, he’s dead.”

  Cha p te r

  5

  W

  Day Eight — 10:53 A.M. e deserve to be locked up,” Shirley moaned.

  “What are you talking about?” Norman wondered if his  wife had cracked under the pressure after spending the night  in jail. He had read about such things but had little practical  experience in the matter, being a first-time offender.

   “We’re bad parents,” Shirley said, looking him dead in the  eye. “Who sends their son to camp for the summer without  investigating it first? Now he’s missing. Einstein is going to end  up as one of those kids with his picture on the side of a milk  carton, and it’s all our fault.”

   “Don’t be ridiculous,” he replied. Norman had never seen  his wife act so irrational. She paced across the eight-by-ten cell  like a caged animal, inspecting every nook and cranny. Sud-denly, she stopped at the window and clawed at the stucco  beneath the bars. “What are you doing?” Norman asked.

  “I’m busting us out,” Shirley whispered. “Don’t just stand  there, help me.”

  “Are you crazy?” he said. “That redneck sheriff will put us  away for life if he catches you.”

  “Either you’re with me or you’re against me, Norman,” Shir-ley said, tugging at the steel bars. “It’s time to choose sides.”

  “What are you talking about? We’ve been married for twen-ty years.”

  “Prison changes people.”

  The Fleets were so preoccupied that they failed to notice  Chief Chester standing in front of the cell, observing the do-mestic dispute with amusement. A large man stood beside him,  trying not to laugh.

  “Enjoying your stay in Saugus, folks?” the chief asked pleas-antly, dangling a large silver ring of keys like a prize.

  Shirley rushed at the chief. She reached through the bars,  desperately trying to rip the key ring from his grasp. The chief  was surprisingly agile for a big man and easily eluded her.  “You can’t keep us locked up in this cell like animals!” Shir-ley screamed.

   “Don’t intend to, Mrs. Fleet,” the chief said calmly as he  opened the door to the cell. “You’re both free to go.”

  Norman and Shirley eyed the chief with suspicion.

  “Who is that?” Norman asked, pointing at the large man  next to Chief Chester.

  “This is Mr. Armstrong. His son, Billy, is also missing. He got  the same brochure in the mail that you folks did and came here  to check on his son.”

  “Just call me Joe,” the big man said, extending a hairy, cal-loused hand that smelled like fish. “I haven’t spoken with my  boy since he left, so I decided to drive up to Camp Creepy Time  to make sure that he hadn’t killed someone. Figured I’d check  in with the police department first. Billy’s spent more time in  jail than he has in school. The kid’s a menace, but he’s all I got.  His mom ran off with a traveling salesman a few days after he  was born and left him behind. She must have been psychic.”

  Mr. Armstrong looked as if he had just rolled out of bed.  His clothes were a mess and his hair hadn’t been combed in  days. Despite the fact that he was tall and lanky, his belly bal-looned over the top of his black leather belt. As far as personal  hygiene went, the man had none. He smelled like he’d been  wrestling in pig slop.

  “We think the kids have been kidnapped,” Norman said,  walking out of the cell.

  “That’s not all,” Shirley added. “Our son said that the nurse  was conducting medical experiments on the campers and turn-ing them into mindless zombies.”

  “You don’t say,” Joe replied, clearly interested.

  “Are you a scientist?” Norman asked.

  “I’m a freelance photographer. I snap paparazzi shots to pay  the bills, but the big bucks are in the weird stuff.”

  “Tell him about the ghost,” Shirley said to her husband.

  “The camp is haunted?” Joe said, rubbing his hands together.  “What are we waiting for? Let’s go check it out.”

  Chief Chester shook his head and sighed. “That’s the prob-lem, I’m afraid. You folks were right. I checked it out and the  camp doesn’t exist. Your kids could be anywhere.”

  “What about Sleepy Time?” Norman said. “The old guy at  the filling station said there used to be a camp out here by that  name. Why don’t we drive out there and check it out?” “That camp was shut down before I was even born.”

  “Call  Warner  and  ask  him  for  directions,”  Norman   demanded.

  “I don’t know if he’s going to be of much help,” Chief Ches-ter replied. �
�He’s still pretty pissed about you running off   without paying for your gas.”

  “This should cover the gas,” Norman said, handing the chief  a twenty-dollar bill. “Tell Warner that I’ll give him another  twenty for directions.”

  “You don’t get out much, do you?” Chief Chester replied.  “You owe him over a hundred dollars.”

  “For  a  tank  of  gasoline?”  Norman  asked.  “That’s  high-way robbery.”

  “Take it up with OPEC,” the policeman suggested.

  “I hope Warner takes credit cards.” Norman sighed. He  looked at his wife and shook his head. “Remind me to trade  the Volvo wagon in for a hybrid when this is over.”

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  Cha p te r

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  Day Eight — 12:06 P.M. he sun beat down on the back of Einstein’s neck like a red- hot branding iron. He was tired and thirsty and his muscles  were cramped. Worst of all, he was lost. In retrospect, he  should have paid more attention to the survival techniques  that he had been forced to endure as a Cub Scout, but who  knew that it would one day be a matter of life or death? In  truth it didn’t matter. Whether the sun rose in the west or set  in the east, Einstein had no clue where he was going. The near-est town was at least twenty or thirty miles from the camp  as the crow flies. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a crow. He was a  boy who was hopelessly lost in the desert and suffering from  heatstroke. Suddenly he realized that his odds of survival were  slim at best. He sat down in the sand, unzipped his pack, and  removed a couple of Twinkies.