by Jack Patton
“We have no new information,” admitted Shyne.
“Then we need to get some, and fast.”
A plan quickly came together. Glower ordered a spying mission to the last-known location of the lizard troops, the Pincer Plains. “A bird attack is unfortunate, but they happen,” he said. “Right now, it’s only a setback. But if we lose the battle with the lizards because of a random flycatcher attack, it becomes a disaster. I will not allow that.”
“No, sir,” chorused the other fireflies.
“Max? What do you think?”
“We need information,” Max said firmly.
“Good. We’re agreed. Lumens and Pulsar, you’re with us. Everyone else, await further orders. If anything happens to us, you’re in charge.”
The scouting team set off into the tunnel network, down toward the Pincer Plains. Max wondered whether Glower’s agents had been watching him secretly on his previous visits to Bug Island.
“Be on your guard, everyone,” Glower warned. “We’ve had reports of enemy sightings in our own tunnels.”
“Reptiles?” Max asked.
“Frogs. Allies of the lizards. General Komodo has claimed part of Bug Island as his own. He must have found the tunnel entrances there.”
“There are spies in our tunnels?” asked Pulsar, horrified.
“There are spies everywhere,” Glower muttered darkly.
The team made its way through tunnel after twisting tunnel, always on the lookout for enemy spies, until Max felt they must surely be nearing their destination.
Glower seemed to read his thoughts. “We’re directly under the Pincer Plains,” he said. “Almost at the lookout point.”
Max wondered if he was walking right under General Komodo’s scaly belly. It gave him a funny feeling.
Shafts of feeble daylight shone down from up ahead. At last, an exit! One by one, Max and the bugs squirmed up out of the hole. It would be good to breathe fresh air again after the damp, earth-smelling air in the tunnels.
But Max clamped his mouth shut when he saw where they’d emerged. In front of them all, the enormous ranks of the Lizard Army spread out in every direction—collared lizards, chameleons, and geckos—as far as the eye could see. The smell from the ugly beasts was foul, and only an umbrella-like growth of white fungi hanging above them hid the bugs from sight.
“Fan out as far as you dare,” whispered Glower. “It’s time to show everyone what we spies are made of.”
Max’s heart beat fast, as he crawled on his hands and knees, dodging between the tall blades of grass and the fat mushrooms bursting from the ground. He stealthily made his way to the edge of the sheltering fungi and hid under a large parasol mushroom, just in time to see a lizard’s head looming above the grass.
It looked like a skink—one of the greediest bug-devouring lizards there was. Max would have to be careful not to be caught, as the lizard sniffed the air with his tongue.
As Max crept closer, a second, smaller skink waddled across to join the first. Max froze in place, listening carefully. His heart was pounding out of his chest.
“Hope the flycatchers left some for us,” said the small skink. “I’m hungry!”
“They better have,” grumbled the bigger one. “Komodo promised them as many flies as they could eat if they delayed migration and helped us. The rest of the bugs are ours!”
Suddenly, it all made sense to Max. The flycatcher attack wasn’t just bad luck, and it wasn’t a coincidence. The fly scouts had been attacked deliberately, to keep the bugs from getting intel on the Lizard Army.
It could mean only one thing. This was an alliance. Komodo’s forces and the birds were working together!
Max crept back to Glower as fast as he dared. He felt a prickly sensation on his back, as if a lizard might spot him at any time and snap him up.
“I’ve got something!” he whispered to Glower. “It wasn’t a random attack—the birds are working with the lizards!”
Glower looked grave. “In that case, we have to get back to Barton. Fast!”
They quickly found the entrance to the tunnel and climbed back down. Max filled Lumens and Pulsar in, as they quickly retraced their steps through the winding, root-filled passages.
Max gritted his teeth. It was going to take ages to reach the general, but what choice did they have? They couldn’t go aboveground. This way might be slow, but it was safe.
“We’ll need a plan to tackle the lizards and the birds together,” Glower said, as they hurried along. “Barton always speaks highly of your brains, Max. What’s the plan?”
Max swallowed. “I don’t have one yet.”
Glower didn’t say anything. Max scrambled over the long-decayed skeleton of a fern leaf and tried to think of what they could do. He couldn’t let Barton down.
The only sounds in the tunnels were the soft whirr of firefly wings and Max’s sneakers thumping on the bare earth. Then, suddenly, from up ahead came a high-pitched buzz almost like a scream, and the stop-start sound of a wing case trying to open … and failing.
“Pulsar!” hissed Glower. He, Max, and Lumens hurried to see what had happened and were stopped in their tracks.
Max stared in horror. Pulsar lay on the ground, his light flickering weakly. The firefly was pinned under the webbed forefoot of a monstrous frog, big enough to block the whole tunnel.
The frog’s skin glistened with slime in the light from the fireflies. It had a striking color pattern, with patches of black and neon yellow. There was only one kind of frog that looked like that.
“It’s a poison dart frog!” Max cried.
He knew all about the deadly creatures from watching TV documentaries. Poison oozed from their skin. It was so strong that a single touch could be enough to get the toxins into your system. Once that happened, you were in deep trouble.
As if on cue, Pulsar’s light dimmed. The frog lifted up its foot, chuckling, so they all could see the poisonous slime smeared over Pulsar’s body. Max stared in horror, as Pulsar struggled to move.
“What have you done?” he cried.
“What we amphibians do best,” the frog hissed.
“Here to spy for your lizard masters, are you?” Glower demanded. “You’ll learn nothing from us!”
“Spy?” croaked the frog. “I’m no spy. I’m just having a nice walk through my new home, aren’t I?”
“Nice walk?” hissed Lumens.
“This bug shouldn’t have crossed into lizard territory, should he?” The frog snorted.
“There isn’t lizard territory!” Max yelled. “This is Bug Island, and it always will be!”
The frog’s laugh sounded like foul gas bubbling through mud. “Oh, I think the lizards and birds will change all that very soon. In the meantime, you’re all trespassing. And I’m going to make you pay.”
The frog lunged toward Max. Slimy, webbed forefeet clutched at him. He ducked out of the way just in time, and the frog’s forefoot traced a trail of poisonous slime down the tunnel wall.
“Scatter!” Glower yelled.
The three of them shot off down one of the dark tunnels, with the frog springing down the passageway after them.
“We’ve got to shake it off,” Glower said.
“I’ll divert him,” Lumens said, “and then head back for Pulsar.” She swerved violently around a tight corner and down a side tunnel, splitting off from Max and Glower.
Despite her efforts, the poison dart frog kept steadily following Max and Glower. Max sprinted through the dark tunnels, desperately following Glower’s greenish light through the twists and turns. He could see that the tunnels were made of crumbly yellow clay, and he didn’t recognize them at all.
“This isn’t the way we came!” he said, as the frog chased them around yet another corner.
“I know!” Glower said. “Just keep running!”
Max had no idea where he was. They could have been under a lake, for all he knew. He had to hope Glower wasn’t fleeing blindly into the dark. He ran on
and on, with the frog only a few steps behind, its bright yellow body glowing in the darkness.
Then, without warning, Glower shouted: “Narrow bridge coming up. Don’t look down!”
Max felt better that Glower did know where they were going after all—but that good feeling vanished the next second. They came out on a ledge over a cavernous space.
The path stopped dead. There was only a crumbling edge where a large root must once have lain, bridging the gap. Beyond lie a chasm so wide and deep that Max couldn’t even see the far side, let alone the bottom.
He tried to skid to a halt, but he had been running full tilt, expecting the bridge to be there. He only just managed to catch himself at the edge where the path crumbled into the abyss below. Dirt and stones broke loose and tumbled into the gap—Max couldn’t hear them hit the bottom.
“It’s gone,” stammered Glower. “The lizard spies must have tipped the bridge root into the pit!”
The poison dart frog came waddling slowly up to them. It knew it didn’t have to hurry. Max and Glower had nowhere left to run. Even if Glower could fly to safety, he couldn’t carry Max.
“Looks like the end of the line for you,” it said with a smirk.
Max backed up until he was at the edge of the pit. Glower flew out over the drop, shining his brightest light. The frog blinked, but kept coming.
“You’ll never win!” Max yelled into the frog’s face. “The bug army is too strong. We’ll never give up Bug Island to a bunch of lizards and birds!”
To Max’s surprise, the frog laughed. “Birds? They aren’t taking over the place, just the lizards! The birds are brave enough when they’re up against a few measly flies, but the minute there’s any real trouble, they get scared and off they rocket. They’re only doing the lizards’ dirty work!” The frog licked its glistening lips. “Hold still, now.”
With that, the poison dart frog crouched low and sprang up at Max. The slimy, toxic forepaws swiped at him, death glistening from every black-and-yellow finger.
But Max was too quick. He hadn’t spent hours practicing on the basketball court for nothing. The frog was coming at him, just like the Green Park captain had, and this time he was ready.
He threw himself into a dodge, ducking one frog forefoot and twisting out of the way of the other all in one fluid move. Too bad Coach Baker wasn’t here to see it!
The frog found itself grappling with nothing but air. It floundered for a moment on the crumbling ledge, confused.
A blinking orange light caught Max’s eye. He looked up to where Glower was hovering. The firefly was flashing like a beacon, trying to get Max’s attention. Then Max saw why. A huge, loose clump of dirt was hanging down from a tangle of roots directly above the frog.
If Max could knock it loose, he might be saved. His eyes flashed across the ground, looking for something to throw. He spotted a dry old acorn and snatched it up, just as the frog turned around with fury in its eyes.
Max got ready to take his shot. He was about to run closer, just to be sure, and then stopped. Coach Baker’s words came back to him. “Sometimes you gotta take a long shot …”
He gripped the acorn, leaped, and threw.
The nut whacked the clump of earth. A thunderous rain of mud and gravel fell from the shaken roots. It completely buried the startled poison dart frog, until only one feebly waving arm could be seen.
“Now’s our chance,” Max shouted. “Run!”
Glower shot past Max, lighting the way ahead. Max ran and ran, with the poison dart frog’s angry shouts echoing in his ears.
They ran through wide tunnels and narrow tunnels, through flinty crevices and down sloping web-draped hallways, until Max staggered to an exhausted halt.
“I think we lost him,” he said.
“Brilliant work,” Glower said, settling down beside Max. “I can see why Barton values you so highly!”
“Thanks. Any idea where we are?”
“I think we’ve come full circle. If I’m not mistaken, the bug army should be right above us. Of course, reaching them may not be so easy.”
“What about Lumens and Pulsar?” Max asked frantically.
Glower looked grave. “Lumens will help Pulsar. She’s one of my best agents.”
Max could only hope Glower was right. For now, though, they had to get aboveground. Luckily, it took the firefly only a few moments to discover a tunnel up to the surface. Soon after, they saw a narrow shaft of light blazing down and heard the familiar high-pitched skree-skree-skree of the cicada brigade.
“Between you and me, I’m tempted to stay down here,” Glower admitted. “Those cicadas give me a headache!”
“Me, too. But we’ve got to find Barton.”
“Agreed. Come on.”
Max and Glower dug their way up, widening the tunnel exit until they were able to squeeze through and stagger out into the bright light. I never want to go through anything like that again, thought Max.
They’d emerged in the midst of the cicada troops, who were regrouping after the flycatcher attack. Max pushed his way through them angrily. “I need to find Barton!” he shouted. “Where is he?”
The cicadas ignored him. They seemed interested only in blasting out their high-pitched marching song. Max rolled his eyes and shoved past them.
Then, to his delight, a familiar droning sound came from above, growing louder.
“Max!” yelled Buzz, swooping in to land. “You’re alive!”
“Just barely!” Max said. “We need to talk to Barton, right away.”
“Consider it done. Climb aboard.”
A short flight later, Max and Glower were reunited not only with Barton, but with Webster and Spike, too. They had all been frantically searching for him, fearing the worst after the flycatcher snatched him off Spike’s back.
“I’m afraid the bird attack was devastating,” Barton rumbled, hanging his huge head. “Our only option was to retreat, hide, and wait for them to leave.”
“Hiding was my idea,” Webster piped up.
“Hiding is always your idea, fraidybug,” Spike said. “It just so happens it was the right idea. This time.”
“I need your intelligence more than ever, Max,” Barton said gravely. “The bugs will fight courageously if I give the order, but if they have to fight birds and lizards at the same time, they will undoubtedly lose.”
“I don’t back down from any fight!” Spike raged, flexing his stinger.
Barton sighed. “And what if it’s a fight we can’t win?”
Just then, Max had an idea. What was it the frog had said about the birds? “The minute there’s any real trouble, they get scared …”
“Maybe fighting the birds is a mistake,” he said.
Buzz gasped. “Max, you can’t be suggesting we surrender!”
“I’m not.” Max grinned. “But what if we don’t have to fight them at all? Maybe we can do something else instead.”
The noonday sun blazed down on the Pincer Plains. The bugs, back in marching formation, moved to the rhythm of the cicadas’ screeching song. Max rode at the very front, on Spike’s back, to meet the enemy.
On the Pincer Plains, the Lizard Army soon came into view. Max had never seen a force so large. The lizards and their amphibian allies were there by the hundreds. Max saw skinks, newts, snakes, iguanas, even chameleons and frilled lizards. It made his heart thump with fear.
But the bugs had an army of their own. The striding mantises looked ready to take on any threat. Behind them came rank after rank of venomous arthropods, from lethal centipedes to the sinister, stalking black widow spiders.
Up from the midst of the Lizard Army rose the massive head of General Komodo. “Where are you, Barton?” he bellowed. “Where are you hiding among all your scuttling friends?”
“I’m right here, Komodo,” Barton shouted back from the bug ranks. “Losing your eyesight, are you? Maybe you’re too old for this!”
“Joke while you can, insect,” sneered General Komodo. “Now
that we have the flycatchers on our side, you bugs don’t stand a chance.”
Max braced himself. Any minute now …
“Battle Bugs! Attack!” boomed Barton.
The front ranks of both armies charged at each other, sending up clouds of dust. Max clung tight to Spike, trying not to be jolted off. The scorpion made straight for a lizard platoon, yelling his battle cry. A group of smaller scorpions squeaked cries of their own and followed him into the fray.
Spike grabbed hold of the first lizard he could reach. As the reptile struggled in his powerful pincers, he drove home his stinger. The lizard’s eyes bulged. “That’s what you get!” Spike growled. Other lizards moved to surround him, hissing and striking at him with their claws. One bit hard on his forelimb, but couldn’t break his thick body armor. Max helpfully kicked it until it let go.
“Thanks, shorty!” Spike said.
“We’re a team, aren’t we?” Max shouted back.
He looked around for his other bug friends. Buzz was leading a flying battalion against the brightly colored poison dart frogs. The hornets were ducking and weaving, using their stingers to jab the frogs. The frogs were hopping up and down, trying to grab on to the hornets and coat them in their slimy poison.
Webster and his spider troops were goading the lizards into clever webbing traps, where they struggled and shrieked for help. On every side, the bugs were fighting for their homes … and their lives.
The battle raged back and forth. Bugs bit and stung; lizards gulped and snapped. Even through the chaos of fierce fighting, it was clear the bugs were starting to turn the tide. Not even the muscular iguanas could fight back against a horde of determined bugs that swarmed all over them and stung them into submission.
Finally, General Komodo let out a shrieking command: “We have waited long enough. Now we end this! Vermilion flycatchers, ENGAGE!”
Max quickly looked up. The deadly little red birds were gathering in the sky, ready to swoop down from above.
Beneath him, Spike grunted, “Whatever you’ve got up your sleeve, little buddy, we could really use it about now!”