Menace From the Deep

by Michael P. Spradlin

  Emmet changed the angle of the shiny first-aid kit until the reflection blinked on Dr. Catalyst’s arm, the one holding the gun. The hybrid’s eyes followed the reflection like a cat follows one of those little red dots from a laser pointer. It roared a few more times and Emmet wiggled the box. The light dazzled, also catching the attention of Dr. Catalyst, who was busy thinking about his next move.

  “What are you doing? Drop that box …” But he didn’t get a chance to finish. The hybrid crouched and leapt, spreading its limbs, its mouth open. Dr. Catalyst let out a scream of agonizing pain as the creature bit down on his arm.

  He dropped the gun.

  EVERYTHING HAPPENED FAST, BUT TO EMMET IT FELT like they were moving in slow motion.

  “Calvin, the gun!” Emmet shouted.

  Calvin scrambled forward, plucked the gun from the grass, and heaved it into the swamp.

  “Why did you do that? I wanted you to shoot these things,” Emmet cried.

  “Don’t know how to shoot,” Calvin said. He rushed back to help move Dr. Doyle toward the boat.

  “Seriously? You wrestle alligators and pilot an airboat but you don’t know how to shoot?”

  “My mom doesn’t like guns.” He shrugged when he said it. Quickly he got Dr. Doyle’s arm back over his shoulder and tried to calm Apollo, which was impossible. Emmet was afraid the poor dog might pass out.

  “Easy, Apollo,” he said. But it had no effect. The dog was clearly annoyed that he was not being allowed to attack something.

  They tried to move quickly. Dr. Catalyst was screaming, “Get it off me! Get it off me!”

  “Should we help him?” Calvin asked.

  “Not a chance!” Emmet said. “I’ve got my dad. You keep an eye on the other one, hold on to Apollo, and get the boat ready.”

  The canoe was only a few yards away, but it seemed like miles. Dr. Doyle’s legs were still not fully working. Behind him, he could hear Dr. Catalyst screaming.

  “Uh-oh!” Calvin said.

  “I hate when you say that!” Emmet said.

  “It’s gone!”

  “What’s gone?”

  “The other gator-thingy,” Calvin said.

  “How can it … ?” A shadow flashed on the ground in front of Emmet. “Heads up!” he shouted.

  They ducked, and Emmet couldn’t hold his dad up anymore. They tumbled to the ground. The Pterogator screeched as it floated over them, landing on the ground and cutting off their route to the boat.

  “I really hate these things,” Emmet said.

  “Try circling around it,” Calvin said. He helped Emmet pull Dr. Doyle to his feet. The creature studied them. Dr. Catalyst’s Internet videos said the creatures he created only fed on snakes, but right then it looked more than ready to try something new on the menu.

  They went to their left and it moved with them. When they tried to go right, it hopped in front of them again.

  Dr. Catalyst had stopped screaming. Emmet kept his eyes on the monster. “Do you see Dr. Catalyst?” he asked.

  Calvin looked around. “No, he …” They heard an airboat fan start up and come to full power, the noise lessening as it got farther away.

  “He’s getting away!” Calvin said.

  “He won’t get far. Probably only has half an arm. We’ve got bigger problems,” Emmet said.

  They didn’t have any weapons. The giant Pterogator in front of them watched their movements, head bobbing in concert with each step they took. It leapt in the air toward them. This time, Emmet tossed the first-aid kit, hitting it in the eye before it could snatch one of them. It squealed and landed off to the side.

  With the path cleared, they made tracks for the canoe, helping Dr. Doyle to lie down inside between the bench seats. Emmet took the leash for Apollo, who jumped into the boat and went immediately to work cleaning Dr. Doyle’s face. Calvin untied the rope and got them ready to launch.

  “Uh-oh!” Calvin said.

  “Please stop saying that! I’m begging you,” Emmet said.

  But then Emmet saw what Calvin did. The hybrid landed on the bow of the canoe. It stood on its hind legs and roared. Emmet was so wishing for a cannon.

  “Here!” Calvin shouted. Emmet looked back as Calvin tossed him a small fire extinguisher from where it was bolted next to the electric engine. That Calvin. Always prepared.

  “Are you kidding!”

  “Do it! Now!” Calvin said. He flipped the switch and the motor hummed to life. The giant beast was rocking the canoe as it beat its leathery winglike flaps. Emmet scrambled forward to get in front of his dad, who was still lying on his back. He pointed the plastic barrel of the fire extinguisher at the ugly thing’s face and pulled the trigger. Foam shot out, covering it like white shaving cream.

  It made a noise that sounded like a sneeze, shaking its head from side to side. All Emmet could do was hope the other one wasn’t around. The foam flew as the creature whipped its neck back and forth. Emmet nearly shouted with joy as the creature tumbled off the bow. The engine powered up and Calvin backed the canoe into the swamp.

  Turning the tiller, he steered the canoe in the opposite direction and gave it all the power the electric motor had. The small island receded behind them. The sun was now over the trees and Emmet could see the creatures standing on the shore, confused and angry. But pretty soon they couldn’t see them at all.

  They had made it.

  DR. GEAUX TRIED TO CONVINCE EMMET TO COME BACK to their house for the night. He refused, and stayed in the hospital with his dad. She insisted that the Florida City police post guards outside the room. There had been a large explosion in the swamp, and her team discovered what looked to be the remains of a concrete bunker and pieces of lab equipment.

  Dr. Catalyst might have disappeared. Or he might still be out there, she told Calvin. They found a high-tech camouflaged airboat abandoned in the swamp. It was covered in a lot of blood. Their working theory was that after Dr. Catalyst fled the island, he returned to his lab and set off pre-wired explosives. In his escape attempt he was most likely overcome by blood loss. He probably fell into the swamp. His body was yet to be recovered.

  Dr. Geaux wasn’t too mad about Emmet and Calvin slipping out to search. Emmet explained to her how he’d gotten the idea in science class to look for cold spots instead of heat signatures. She’d told him most of the animals migrated out of the park because of the hybrids. Emmet reminded her of his theory about how someone doing what Dr. Catalyst was doing must be in the swamp. But he wouldn’t want excess heat to give him away.

  Finding cold spots in the swamp, where Dr. Catalyst insulated his compounds against the heat sensors, had proven to be the right approach. The swamp gave off heat from the decaying plants and animals, and even rocks warmed by the sun during the day would still give off some residual heat to an infrared sensor. Calvin had told Emmet that Plantation Row probably once had power. And Emmet had looked for big cold spots nearest the old homes.

  “Why didn’t you come to me?” Dr. Geaux asked him.

  “I’m sorry. I should have. But I went on my own. Calvin followed me —”

  “And he and I are going to have a big, long talk about that,” Dr. Geaux interrupted him.

  “Yes. Right. My bad. I’m sure he was just checking up on me. I totally talked him into taking me out into the swamp. It wasn’t pretty. I begged, actually. It’s my fault. He shouldn’t get in trouble,” Emmet said.

  Dr. Geaux gave a big fake sigh and laughed. “Men!” she said. “All right. You stay here tonight, but you let your dad rest, okay?”

  Emmet sighed when she left. They had just gotten lucky and found his dad at the first spot. Despite her mild annoyance, she had admitted to him it was pretty good thinking.

  Emmet woke up in a chair to the sound of his dad calling his name.

  “Hey, pal,” Dr. Doyle croaked. His voice was still thick and raspy.

  “Dad!” Emmet came awake and launched himself to his father’s bedside. He hugged him like he would nev
er let him go. “When you’re feeling better, I’m going to kill you,” Emmet said in mock anger.

  “Then it’s a good thing the doctor said I’m in for a long recovery,” Dr. Doyle said.

  “He didn’t say that. The doctor said you’ll be fine in a couple of days. Then we’re going to have a chat,” Emmet said, teasing. He stayed there at his dad’s side. He finally felt good again. Untangled.

  “Rosalita told me some of what you did. I don’t remember all of it, but maybe I’m the one who should have a chat with you,” his dad said, smiling.

  “Whatever,” Emmet said. “Did you know Calvin wrestles alligators?”

  “Yes. His mom told me. He spends time with his family on the reservation every summer. It’s a Seminole tradition.”

  “He’s a pretty cool kid,” Emmet said.

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Dad, how did you think to tell me about shiny objects when we were out there? It saved us.”

  “I don’t remember a lot of it. The only thing I knew was someone wanted to hurt you. My arms and legs couldn’t move, and I felt helpless. Birds are attracted to light. Dr. Catalyst made these things by recombining DNA. Alligators will strike at fish when their scales flash in the sun. It was probably just my training coming to the fore and me hoping for anything that might save you,” he said. His voice was getting weaker, and Emmet knew he needed to rest.

  “You and your science,” Emmet said.

  Dr. Doyle’s eyes were starting to droop. But he chuckled softly.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You’re always getting on me about ‘science,’” his dad said. “Look who used science to find me.”

  “Yeah … whatever … next time you are on your own.”

  His dad squeezed his hand and drifted off to sleep.

  Emmet had more questions. But they could wait. With his dad asleep, he had time to think. Dr. Catalyst had gone to a lot of trouble and expense to launch his little crusade. And despite everything, the blown-up lab, the abandoned airboat, and all the rest, Emmet still had that tickling feeling crawling across the back of his neck and shoulders. A man so driven and consumed by his cause would have backup plans for his backup plans.

  He went to the window and opened the blinds, letting a little light into the room. After his time in the dark, dank bunker, he found he was getting fond of the Florida sunshine. Staring out the window, he saw an osprey far off in the distance circling high in the sky over the Everglades.

  Dr. Catalyst was still out there somewhere. Emmet was sure of it.

  DEEP IN THE DARKEST, MOST REMOTE PART OF THE Everglades, the full moon hung low over the swamp. The sky looked like spilled ink and the bright moonlight obscured the stars, for now. Spanish moss hung like cobwebs from the cypress and mangrove trees, and the chirping frogs were silent for once.

  There was a stranger in their midst.

  On a high branch in a twisted mangrove tree, a nest of twigs, grass, and mud was wedged between two branches. It was a big nest, and the other animals of the swamp gave it a wide berth. No birds landed in the tree, no possums or raccoons frolicked nearby. They were afraid of what resided there.

  Nails sat atop it, all of her senses alert. Something was coming. An intruder, perhaps out of curiosity, or driven mad by hunger, was somewhere nearby. Nails sniffed the air. It was a snake.

  She gave a bellowing call, and her tiny offspring, who were climbing and exploring the branches of the tree, came skittering back to the nest. Like her alligator relatives, she lowered her head, opened her mouth, and the small babies who looked like her in every way climbed inside. She gently closed her jaws and waited.

  The python was nearly twenty feet long. It slithered down from a branch above and peered at Nails, its tongue flicking, working the air. The serpent could not figure out what she was exactly, but it had not fed in days. There were still unhatched eggs in the nest, and those would make a tasty meal.

  Dr. Catalyst had made a grievous error in his research. His experiments had recombined DNA, resequenced genes, and used a variety of different growth hormones to create the Pterogators. He thought his creatures could never reproduce. But nature is not static. Survival in any species is paramount. And the change in his creatures that began with the subject recovered by Dr. Geaux had continued with Hammer and Nails. Eventually, even a cloned species will adapt, and change. Such instinct is encoded in the DNA of every species. Dr. Catalyst had been sloppy and let his ego and naiveté color his judgment. Now he and the swamp he sought to protect would pay a horrible price.

  Nails hissed through her nostrils, but could not open her mouth for fear of losing a baby. With her forepaws she rolled the remaining eggs further beneath her. The snake moved closer.

  It reared back, ready to strike, when the nest shook with a violent impact. The snake’s attack died in midair. Hammer arrived. Gliding to the nest from his perch nearby, he landed claws-first on the python, which now twisted upward trying to find a way free from the deadly grasp of the beast holding it.

  But it was too late. Hammer’s neck flew back, jaws open, and with one bite, the snake died and went still. Nails hissed through her nostrils, and Hammer glided away to his perch, but not before swallowing a large chunk of meat.

  When he was gone, Nails lowered her head to the floor of the nest and opened her mouth. Her babies burst out, momentarily confused and disoriented. They were less than a week old, and already nearly six inches in length. Eight of them survived the first hatching.

  Each one hesitated a moment, until the smell of the dead snake reached them. They made small skree skree sounds and clamored across the floor of the nest, crawling onto the carcass of the snake, where they began to methodically devour it.

  It was dinnertime.

  NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR MICHAEL P. SPRADLIN was born in a small Michigan town. Growing up he loved reading books, baseball, and the Rolling Stones. Not the rock band. There was a hill near his house and he liked to roll stones down it because it was fun rolling stones down a hill. He is the author of the international bestselling Youngest Templar trilogy, the Wrangler Award winner Off Like the Wind! The First Ride of the Pony Express, and several other novels and picture books. He holds a black belt in television remote control, and is fluent in British, Canadian, Australian, and several other English-based languages. Sharks swim in the other direction when he steps into the ocean and he is not afraid of clowns. Wait. Yes he is. Afraid of clowns. Come on. Clowns are scary! He now lives in a slightly bigger Michigan town and can be visited on the web (the Internet, not the spider kind) at www.michaelspradlin.com.

  SCHOOL IS OUT AND SUMMER HAS ARRIVED. AFTER FOILING Dr. Catalyst, Emmet was hoping he and his father might be able to return to Montana. But working to undue the damage already caused by Dr. Catalyst is a big job. And now Dr. Doyle has been permanently assigned to Everglades National Park. Instead of heading west as he hoped, Emmet grouses about spending a summer in the hot, humid Florida sun.

  But it isn’t just a longing for the mountains that pulls at Emmet. He can’t rid himself of the feeling that Dr. Catalyst is out there somewhere. Everyone else believes that he died in the swamp or that he’s finished and hiding away somewhere licking his wounds. But Emmet doesn’t think someone so committed to his cause would give up so easily. And the occasional nightmares of the fearsome Pterogators Dr. Catalyst created aren’t helping him any.

  To celebrate the start of summer, Dr. Geaux and Dr. Doyle take Emmet, Calvin, and their friends to a nearby cove for snorkeling. The water is warm and crystal clear, but the reef below them is swarming with Lionfish … and devoid of other sea life. Emmet learns that much like the pythons and boa constrictors of the Everglades, the Lionfish are another invasive species that are devastating the marine ecosystem.

  Then, without warning, a group of odd fish appear from the depths of the cove. They look like a cross between the great barracuda and the moray eel, and they begin quickly devouring the lionfish right before the k
ids’ eyes. These strange creatures are big, fast, and have mouths full of razor-sharp teeth. Emmet starts to get an eerie feeling. The speed and strength of the fish are almost unnatural.

  The creatures also have voracious appetites. After clearing the reef of Lionfish in a matter of minutes, they soon turn their attention to Emmet and his friends. All Emmet’s worries about Dr. Catalyst suddenly take a backseat as the strange fish begin heading straight for them. Right now he’s only got one thing on his mind.

  Survival.

  Text copyright © 2013 by Michael P. Spradlin.

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First printing, July 2013

  Cover art by Owen Richardson

  Cover design by Nina Goffi

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-58070-0

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