The Spider Siege

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by Jack Patton


  Most of the bugs vanished into the trees and down into their holes, as they’d been ordered to. Only Barton, Spike, Buzz, and a handful of fire ants and stag beetles were left to defend the camp. They stood on a raised, steep-sided mound overlooking the main courtyard.

  General Komodo came crashing through the trees. His bodyguard of fierce-looking lizards followed close behind him.

  “Well, well, well. So this is Barton’s mighty walled camp, is it? Nothing but mud and termite spit!” Komodo mocked.

  “Come over here and say that!” Max shouted.

  “Oh, I will … Now my victory is complete. Your forces are scattered. There is nothing to stop me from marching in and taking over.”

  “We will stop you!” Spike hollered.

  Komodo laughed heartily. “Oh, please. As if you still have a chance!” Impatiently, he flicked his tail at the fortress. “Smash your way in,” he told his guards.

  The lizards scrabbled and clawed at the fortress wall, ripping chunks of it away, until they cleared a gap big enough to pass through. One by one, Komodo’s forces slithered into the wide-open courtyard. Above, on their mound, Max and the others looked down at him. Almost … Max thought. Keep coming …

  Before long, the fortress was filled up with lizards. They glanced around hungrily, waiting for Komodo’s orders. He laughed. “You think you are safe up there, you pitiful bugs? I’ll tear the whole place down to reach you if I have to!”

  “Webster!” Max shouted. “NOW!”

  He heard Webster respond with a battle cry. The spider burst out from one of his trapdoors, right into the open courtyard where the lizards now stood!

  But Webster was not alone. Hundreds of trapdoor burrows opened, all around the startled lizards. Crawling out of them came the bombardier beetles—thousands of them—and the lizards were trapped in the middle.

  Komodo’s eyes bulged with rage as he realized what was happening. The lizards were not only surrounded, but the beetles were right in among them. The reptiles didn’t know what they were in for. But they were about to find out.

  “Bombardier beetles, open fire!” Max yelled.

  FATOOM FATOOM FATOOM, went the sound of the beetles’ bottoms. A mass blast of boiling, burning acid steam engulfed the helpless lizards. They couldn’t fight back because they were too busy screeching in pain.

  FATOOM. A collared lizard rolled over, waving its legs. FATOOM. FATOOM. Lizards coughed and spluttered, unable to breathe. Some of them tried to escape by climbing the walls, but they were just too steep. FATOOM. General Komodo shrieked with rage, clawing at his eyes. “I can’t see! I’ll get you for this, Barton!”

  The beetles kept firing like poisonous party poppers. Max cheered. “We warned you, Komodo! But you walked right into our trap!”

  “General!” howled a mountain lizard. “How can we fight? We can’t even see!”

  “No excuses!” Komodo commanded. “Just eat them. We are lizards. It’s what we do, you fool.”

  The lizard tried to obey, but he got a faceful of venom from Sergeant Dungworth and ran away screeching.

  The lizards were beginning to pile back out through the hole they’d bashed in the wall.

  “Well done, Max,” said Barton. “Should we make them pay?”

  “Oh, I think we should,” Max said fiercely.

  “Battle Bugs! ATTACK!”

  The bugs dived down from the mound into the battleground. Stag beetles and fire ants launched themselves into the attack, driving the disoriented lizards away. The damaged wall crumbled even more under the weight of dozens of lizards fighting to escape.

  Barton lunged into the battle with his pincers and caught something thick and meaty. To Max’s amazement, he saw it was General Komodo’s tongue! Barton stretched it out, making the lizard bellow in agony, then let go.

  “Get off my island!” Barton roared.

  Shattered, blinded, and stung, the lizards were forced to flee. They made a quick exit, limping in confusion, heading back in the direction of the mountain pass.

  Max stood in the battle-torn fortress, watching them go. A cheer went up from all around.

  “Victory!”

  Spike patted Max on the shoulder with a foreleg. “Great plan. You’re a hero, Max. Well done!”

  Max leaned against the wall, gasping in relief. The Battle Bugs cheered, clicked their pincers, did victory dances, and broke open the nectar stores to celebrate. Injured soldier beetles shook each other by the claw, apparently unconcerned that they were bashed or bruised or missing one of their many legs!

  Barton went from bug to bug, congratulating each one. “Well fought; well done, soldier; brave bugs, all. Good job.”

  “The lizards will be on their way through the mountain pass by now,” said Buzz. “Shame we can’t bring the whole thing down on their heads.”

  “Those bombardier beetles taught them a lesson they’ll never forget!” Max grinned.

  Spike fidgeted anxiously. He wasn’t joining in the celebration like all the rest. Max had to ask him what was wrong.

  “The lizards might be gone for now, but what if they come back?” Spike whispered. “They can come through Fang Mountain whenever they want. Next time, they’ll be more prepared. They won’t fall for the same trap twice.”

  Max frowned. The scorpion was right. As long as that pass stood open, Bug Island would never be safe.

  There had to be something they could do. He thought carefully.

  Then his face lit up. “Spike, you’re a genius.”

  “Me?” Spike was baffled.

  “You came up with the answer yourself, back in the war room. Send the termites in!”

  Barton overheard. “I said there was to be no joking about the termites!”

  “I’m not joking. I’m completely serious. Here’s what we do …”

  * * *

  Back at the mountain pass, Max was relieved to see that the reptiles were nowhere in sight. That meant there was time to do the job he had in mind. Barton, Buzz, Webster, and Spike looked on, curious to see what he was planning.

  The termites were gathered behind him, waiting for his instructions.

  “You see where the rocks are crumbling at the top of the cliffs?” Max pointed up. “All those roots and vines and creepers are holding the cliff together.”

  “Yeah,” said the termite foreman gruffly. “What about it?”

  “Think your crew can chew through all that green stuff and cause a landslide?”

  The termite foreman thought it over. “Piece of cake,” he said. “We’ll have it done in ten minutes. Come on, everybody! We have a job to do!”

  The termites scurried up the cliffs, poured over the vines, and disappeared into the greenery above. The valley filled with the sound of thousands of pairs of tiny jaws munching.

  Max waited. Soon the first tree root fell with a crash, then the next. A dusty shower of rocks followed. The net of vines holding the rockfall back began to sag. He grinned. It’s working!

  The termites chewed and chewed. Vine after vine snapped and fell, until with a sudden roar the whole cliffside gave way. The pass filled up with rocks, blocking it off completely.

  “Nice job!” Max called as the dust settled. “The lizards won’t be trying this route any time soon.”

  He checked his watch. Two minutes and thirty-eight seconds: that was fast work!

  “Well done, termites!” said Barton.

  The other bugs all congratulated the termites, too. Even Spike had to admit that they’d done well. The termites were surprised to find themselves treated like heroes, for once!

  Max smiled. Then he felt something hot in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that it was the magnifying glass, glowing brightly.

  “It must be time for me to go,” Max told them all.

  “Thanks for everything,” Buzz said. “We’ll be sure to call if we need you again.”

  “When we need you again,” added Barton. “Somehow I don’t think Komodo is going to give up.” />
  “I’ll be there!” Max promised. He said a hasty good-bye to his friends, saluted Barton, lifted the magnifying glass up to the sky, and looked through it.

  Just like last time, Max felt a tugging sensation in the pit of his stomach, and wind whirled past him. It was like being vacuumed up into the sky—upside down and backward!

  With a jolt, Max found himself back inside the family motor home, next to the open encyclopedia, exactly as he had been when he left. The clock on the microwave showed that only a few hours had passed—and his clothes were as clean as when he’d put them on that morning!

  “Phew,” he said. “Nice to be back.”

  He went outside and saw that the sky had darkened. His mom and dad were waiting by a huge campfire, ready with sticks and a bag of marshmallows.

  “Nice to see you at last!” his dad laughed. “You’ve been reading that book for hours.”

  “It’s my favorite book,” said Max, honestly.

  “Did you find out what that spider was?”

  “I sure did. It was a golden orb weaver.”

  “Ooh,” said his mom. “That’s a pretty name, actually. For a spider, I mean.”

  Max thought back to the mountain pass, and how the golden orb weavers had slowed the lizard army down with their amazing sticky webs. What on earth would his parents say if they knew where he’d really been?

  His dad passed him a marshmallow on a stick, ready for toasting. “You know, Max, I think this is going to be a camping trip to remember.”

  Max smiled. “I think you might be right!”

  Golden Orb Weaver Spiders

  The golden orb weaver gets its name not because of the color of the spider itself, but because of the yellow silk it uses to trap its prey. This sticky web glistens in the sun, making it look like shiny, gold thread.

  Golden orb weaver spiders make some of the largest webs in the world. They can be over three feet in diameter. That’s big enough to catch bats and small birds!

  Bombardier Beetles

  The bombardier beetle is one of nature’s most fascinating bugs. Not many living creatures can boast an exploding backside, but the bombardier beetle certainly can!

  The beetle has two small glands toward the rear of its abdomen; each contains a different liquid. When threatened, the beetle can mix the two together in what’s known as its “explosion chamber.” Then the beetle fires the dangerous mixture toward its unlucky victim. The liquid can reach a temperature of over 200 degrees!

  Termites

  Termites might look very similar to ants, but they’re actually a species of cockroach! Termites live very different lives from any cockroach we might encounter. They are a social insect, dividing work between each other and looking after their young collectively.

  Termites build elaborate nests made of chewed-up soil, mud, tree bark, and even animal poop in order to provide a protected home for their colony. The nests are usually found underground, but sometimes become so big that they grow several yards out of the ground, becoming termite mounds: the skyscrapers of the insect world.

  The Battle Bugs are facing peril from all sides. General Komodo has forged an alliance with insect-hungry birds—and with an elite fleet of poison dart frogs. While the birds attack from above, the poisonous frogs attack from below!

  Max has a daring plan—but will it be enough?

  Text copyright © 2015 by Hothouse Fiction.

  Cover and interior art by Brett Bean, copyright © 2015 by Scholastic Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012, by arrangement with Hothouse Fiction.

  Series created by Hothouse Fiction.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc. BATTLE BUGS is a trademark of Hothouse Fiction.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing 2015

  Cover art by Brett Bean

  Cover design by Phil Falco & Ellen Duda

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-70961-3

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

 

 

 


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