The Lizard War

by Jack Patton

  “Keep in line!” it hissed at a group of small frogs. “Or I’ll come down there and flatten you!”

  “That’s General Komodo!” shouted Buzz, zooming lower. “The commander of the lizard army!”

  But before Max could reply, the huge lizard turned its head upward, its beady eyes flashing with rage. Then, as quick as a cracking whip, its long, sticky tongue flashed out, heading straight for them!

  “Look out!” Max cried as the giant lizard’s tongue flicked through the air.

  Max was almost thrown off Buzz’s back as the hornet swerved to the side. He clung tight to Buzz’s hairs, his legs dangling in midair as the hornet shot upward, just out of reach of the enormous lizard. As they swooped away over the army of deadly reptiles, Max felt his hands starting to slip. He couldn’t hold on anymore. “Help!” he cried.

  But it was too late. Max lost his grip, and suddenly he was falling through the air. He squeezed his eyes shut as the ground raced toward him. There was no way he could survive a fall from such a great height. Any second now, he would smash into the ground and …

  Thump!

  His heart pounding, Max opened his eyes. He was sitting on a huge green leaf as big as his mom’s bed. Max couldn’t believe his luck—if he’d slipped a second later, he would have missed the leaf completely.

  But just as he was starting to relax, a sharp breeze came whistling through the forest. The leaf swayed and dipped and immediately became a huge green slide.

  “Help!” Max called as he started slipping down the shiny surface. “I’m falling!”

  “Hold on!” he heard Buzz call from somewhere above.

  “I can’t! There’s nothing to hold on to!”

  Max picked up speed. The air rushed past his face, causing his eyes to water. He saw the edge of the leaf getting closer, and the forest floor stretched out below, crawling with deadly lizards.

  “Help!” Max cried again. He was slipping and sliding and falling and—

  Suddenly he was rising, being yanked up into the air by the back of his T-shirt.

  Max craned his neck and saw that Buzz had somehow managed to hook one of her front legs under his shirt collar. Buzz swooped back in toward the tree and plunked Max down onto a huge branch.

  “Sorry, pal,” Buzz said, landing next to him. “I thought you were a goner for a minute.”

  Max took a couple of deep breaths. He’d thought he was a goner, too. It was a pretty scary existence being the size of a bug. Once his heart had stopped pounding so hard, he peered down over the edge of the branch. The forest floor was far below him. He could just make out the brown shape of General Komodo, still sitting on his rock. The branch swayed slightly in the breeze. Max felt sick.

  “Thanks, Buzz,” he said faintly.

  “Come on, hop back on,” Buzz said. “We’d better get back to Barton.”

  Max clambered up one of Buzz’s hairy legs and back into position behind her head. The hornet’s wings whirred into flight again.

  Buzz headed up toward the treetops. Max’s heart was still racing, but he made himself look down toward the forest floor. It was swarming with reptiles and amphibians, and it wouldn’t be long before they reached Barton’s camp. He had to come up with a plan—the bugs’ lives depended on it. They were almost back at Base Camp when something caught his eye, sparkling in the sunlight.

  “What’s that over there?” Max yelled to Buzz.

  “Pollen River,” Buzz replied. “It flows down from the Fang Mountains.”

  “Can we take a closer look?” Max asked.

  “No problem!”

  Buzz flew over the clearing and toward the river. As they got lower, the air was filled with the roar of rushing water. Max held on extra tight and leaned over to take a look. Down below, the river frothed and bubbled like a witch’s cauldron. On the far side, the ground sloped up toward a row of jagged mountains shaped like pointed teeth. Max could see why they were called the Fang Mountains. Nestled below the mountains, the far riverbank was covered with a blanket of wildflowers, in the middle of which stood a young tree. Max looked back at the gushing water.

  “Do you think the lizards would be able to cross the river?” Max asked Buzz, thoughtfully.

  “Nah, the water moves way too fast for them,” Buzz replied.

  Max smiled. The bugs might not be able to fight the lizards, but perhaps there was a way to escape from them.

  “I’ve got an idea!” Max cried. “Let’s get back to Barton.”

  “Sure,” said Buzz. Putting on a burst of speed, the hornet zoomed back to the clearing and landed on the rotten log next to Barton and Spike.

  “Welcome back, soldiers,” said Barton.

  “Good to see you,” said Spike with a wave of his pincers.

  “What is the enemy’s position now?” Barton asked.

  “Closer than ever, I’m afraid, sir,” Buzz told him. “But the tarantula squad is fighting well.”

  Barton nodded. “Good old tarantulas,” he said. “I knew they wouldn’t let us down.”

  “I have an idea for a plan,” Max said excitedly.

  Barton spun around to look at him. “Go on,” he said.

  “Pollen River,” Max said.

  Barton looked at him blankly.

  “The lizards can’t cross the river,” Max explained. “The water’s too fast for them. But maybe we can.”

  Barton nodded. “Those of us with wings can. But what about the ones who can’t fly? Or can’t fly at the moment. We can’t leave them stranded—that would be breaking the Battle Bug motto.”

  “What motto?” Max asked.

  “Never leave a bug behind,” Barton, Spike, and Buzz all cried in unison.

  Max frowned. “There must be some way to get everyone across,” he said. “If only we had a boat.”

  “A what?” Barton barked.

  “Something that floats,” Max replied.

  “Leaves float,” Spike suggested.

  “Yes,” said Barton. “But we need something that can take our whole army across—like a bridge.”

  Just then a line of ants marched past.

  “That’s it!” Max shouted. “The army ants! They could form a bridge for the other bugs to cross.”

  “A bridge of army ants could never hold me,” Spike said gloomily. “I’d just squish them.”

  “Yes,” said Barton. “They’d never be able to hold the bigger bugs.”

  Max wracked his brains. He thought back to the river. It wasn’t even that wide. If only he could think of some way for them to get across. If he were his normal size, he’d probably be able to leap across. He thought of the stream in his grandparents’ woods, and how his grandfather had bridged it with a log. A log. From a tree.

  “The tree!” Max cried. “We’ll make a bridge from the tree on the other side of the river. That way we only need to get Barton across first.”

  Barton, Spike, and Buzz all stared at him blankly.

  “There’s a little tree on the other side of the river, right next to the water,” Max explained. He turned to Barton. “Titan beetles like you are great at chomping through wood. Even though you can’t fly at the moment, if we can get you across first with the army ants, it could still work. You could chop the tree down so it falls across the river, and it would make a bridge strong enough for all of us to use!”

  Barton, Spike, and Buzz looked at one another.

  “Well, I suppose it might work,” said Barton. “And I’m certainly the bug for the job. I’ll have you know I once munched my way right through an oak tree!”

  “While you’re gnawing the tree, I could start airlifting bugs across, sir,” said Buzz, flying into the air and circling around their heads. “The other winged insects could help, too.”

  “Excellent. We have a plan. Action stations, everyone,” commanded Barton. “Well done, Max. Your very big brain has come in very handy.”

  Max grinned, but his smile soon faded as a worried-looking centipede scurried toward them, all i
ts legs rippling as it ran.

  “Sir!” it cried, “The lizards have reached the trail to the clearing. They’re almost here!”

  “What are we going to do?” Spike cried.

  “We need to get everyone’s attention,” Max said, looking around at the scuttling, buzzing bugs filling the clearing.

  Quick as a flash, Barton wriggled his huge brown body, making a screech so loud that Max had to put his fingers in his ears. It was a horrible sound, like someone scraping their fingernails down a chalkboard, but it worked. Everyone turned to see where the noise was coming from.

  Once they were all quiet, Barton spoke. “This is Max. He’s something called a human being and he has a plan.”

  “And a very big brain,” Spike added.

  Hundreds of insect eyes stared at Max.

  “We think we’ve found a way to escape from the lizards,” Max shouted.

  There was a humming and buzzing sound from the bugs as they all started talking excitedly.

  “Silence!” Barton bellowed. “There is no time to lose. General Komodo and his army of tongue-flickers will be upon us at any moment. Army ants! Assemble at the front.”

  The army ants all marched forward. Max gasped. There were so many of them!

  Barton quickly explained Max’s plan. When he finished, the captain of the army ants stepped forward.

  “Permission to speak, sir?” she said. Barton nodded. “Our bridges are made for other ants to walk across, not beetles. It could break.”

  “Yes,” said Barton. “I thought of that. Just make the bridge as strong as you can. I’ll have to take the risk.”

  Max stared at the brave bug. He hadn’t thought about how dangerous his plan would be for Barton. If the bridge broke, the Battle Bug commander and the ants would all be washed downstream and drown. But if they didn’t try, all the bugs would be eaten by the lizard army.

  “All right, we’ve got to get to the river,” Barton finished. “All flying bugs, follow Buzz. Take a passenger if you can. The rest of you, come with us!”

  “Good luck!” Buzz called, taking off with a family of wood lice on her back. A couple of bees followed her with several tiny beetles clinging to their legs.

  “I-I suppose we’d better go, too,” a voice behind Max whispered. He turned to see Webster the trap-door spider coming out of his burrow. “D-do you want a lift?” he offered shyly. “Eight legs are faster than two.”

  Max nodded, and clambered onto the spider’s hairy back. Barton, Webster, and Spike led the way, and behind them scurried the entire Battle Bug army.

  It didn’t take long to reach the river. The water covered them in spray as it tore past them.

  “There’s the tree,” Max called to Barton. “Do you think you’ll be able to gnaw through it?”

  Barton looked at the young tree swaying in the breeze. “Absolutely!” he declared. “It’s nothing but a mid-morning snack! Ready, ants?”

  “Positions, everyone!” shouted the army ant captain. “We can use the rock in the middle of the stream. Build from here to the rock, then from the other side of the rock to the tree.”

  Max held his breath and watched as the ants began, using their bodies as building blocks. Two of them grabbed hold of each other with their legs and huge jaws. Another ant grasped hold of them, then another. Soon there was a huge, linked line of them on the pebbles beside the stream.

  “Start building into the water,” commanded the captain.

  A group of ants shuffled to the edge of the stream and stood firmly, anchoring the group to the side. Others clambered over them and began building out onto the fast-moving water. More ants joined them, and then more. Soon the bridge was at least twelve ants wide and five thick. Gradually, the bridge grew until it reached the rock. More ants scrambled across the bridge, over the rock, and began building the second phase of the bridge. Soon the army-ant bridge stretched right across to the tree on the other side of the water.

  “We’re ready, sir,” the captain told Barton as she took her own place on the bridge.

  “Excellent work, captain,” Barton replied. Then he signaled to Buzz, who landed nearby. “If anything happens to me, Flight Commander,” he said seriously, “the Battle Bugs are yours to lead.”

  “Yes, sir. I won’t let you down,” Buzz said gravely.

  Max clenched his hands into tight fists as Barton took a first careful step onto the bridge. He knew that ants were very strong insects, and that each one could carry many times her own weight. Barton was bigger than twenty of them put together, however, and they were already struggling against the raging current. If just one ant let go, the whole bridge would collapse and Barton would drown. As the first four of his legs stepped onto the bridge, Max could see the ants’ bodies straining, holding on to each other even more firmly. Next to Max, Webster had dug a burrow and was peeking out. Buzz flew in nervous circles overhead.

  As quickly as he could, Barton scurried forward. With every step, the bridge trembled and shook dangerously.

  “Ouch!” cried one of the ants.

  “Hold steady!” shouted another.

  As Barton struggled onto the rock in the middle of the stream, one of his back feet knocked an ant into the rushing water. The other ants cried out and the bridge wobbled, but it didn’t break.

  “Help!” the ant yelled as the water started to sweep her away.

  Thinking quickly, Barton reached out toward the ant with his long feelers.

  “Grab on!” he shouted.

  The ant stretched her legs up—but she was just out of reach.

  “Come on, soldier! You can do it!” Barton shouted.

  The ant made another grab and just managed to catch the very end of one of Barton’s feelers. Slowly, Barton pulled her through the water until she could climb onto the rock.

  “Thank you, sir,” the damp ant gasped, her knees knocking.

  Barton nodded. “Never leave a bug behind,” he said firmly. “Now wait here, soldier. I have a job to do.”

  With that, he climbed over the rock and down the other side toward the second half of the ant bridge. He placed his first pair of legs carefully, but just as he was about to put his second pair on the bridge, his front foot slipped and he slid sideways into the stream. All the bugs gasped.

  “Barton!” Max cried out, rushing forward.

  The brave beetle was holding the rock with two legs, while the rest of him was in the water.

  “We’ve got to help!” Max gasped.

  “I’ll fly you over,” said Buzz. “Quickly!”

  Max grabbed one of the hornet’s legs, and Buzz rose into the air.

  “Hang on, Barton!” Max called as he dropped from Buzz’s leg onto the rock.

  Barton was clinging to the rock with his front legs, but the stream was flowing too fast for him to haul himself back to safety. Max grabbed one of Barton’s legs and pulled with all his might, while Buzz hovered overhead and tugged on Barton’s feelers. With a great heave, Max fell over backward and Barton finally struggled back onto the rock.

  Barton shook himself, scattering water all over Max.

  “Thank you,” he said gratefully.

  “Never leave a bug behind!” Max and Buzz chorused.

  “Let’s try again,” Barton said. “Ready, ants?”

  “Yes!” the ants called out. For the second time, Barton stepped off the rock. Max held his breath, but this time Barton didn’t stumble as he slowly made his way across. Finally, all six of his feet touched the pebbles on the other side. He’d made it!

  A cheer of shrill ant voices echoed across the stream. Buzz gave a sigh of relief and wiped a leg across her forehead. Max jumped up on her back, and she flew over to where Webster was hiding.

  “You can come out now!” Max smiled. “Barton’s safe.”

  Barton was already working on the tree, his powerful jaws cutting into the tough bark. The ants started breaking down the bridge, scuttling over each other one by one until they all reached the other side and w
ere lined up in neat rows next to Barton.

  Barton looked up as they got closer, but didn’t stop chomping. He was already halfway through, and the tree was bending over the stream. Finally, it gave a loud crack.

  “Stand back!” shouted Max as the sapling snapped. It landed with a crash on the shore, making a sturdy bridge across the river.

  The bugs cheered, and Max grinned in relief. His plan had worked!

  “Good work, Barton!” shouted Max.

  Barton scurried onto the bridge, waving his feelers.

  “Advance, troops!” he shouted. “There’s no time to lose!”

  Max and Webster stood aside as the first of the bugs—wood lice, earwigs, and some of the smaller spiders—swarmed across. Max noticed that the team of tarantulas, some of them wounded and limping on seven legs, had joined the back of the line.

  “Enemy advancing! Enemy advancing!”

  Max turned to see Spike scuttling toward them at full speed.

  “The lizards are here,” he yelled. “They’re right behind us!”

  Max turned toward the forest, and his stomach lurched. Crashing through the trees was a line of huge lizards, with General Komodo in the lead!

  Max gulped. There wasn’t enough time to get all the bugs across the bridge before the lizards arrived. Their only option was to fight.

  “We have to hold them off while the others escape,” Max said firmly. Rushing over to a bush covered in long, sharp spines, he broke one off and waved it in the air like a sword.

  “Come on, Spike,” he shouted. “Let’s show those scaly thugs what we’re made of.”

  Spike grinned. “OK, Max!” he said. “Jump on!”

  Max ran and leaped onto Spike’s back.

  “Scorpion squad!” Spike cried, turning toward the bugs. “Come with me!”

  Several scorpions scuttled forward. Max recognized fat-tails, deathstalkers, and bark scorpions, all of them with deadly venom in their stingers.

  The squad got into position, forming a line between the bridge and the lizards, with Spike and Max at the front. It was like being at the head of an army of knights, everyone waiting, ready to attack. Max could feel the ground trembling as hundreds of reptile and amphibian feet stomped toward them.