Monsterstreet #4

by J. H. Reynolds

“I’m three-time state champion at robotics and computer coding,” Regina said. “How do you think I have so many Instagram followers? I know all the algorithms. You probably thought I was a cheerleader or something.”

  Regina’s a computer wiz? Harper thought in astonishment.

  Regina’s hands moved across the keys like she was conducting a symphony, conjuring secret music beyond Harper’s comprehension.

  Finally, the lighthouse antenna on the video screen went dark.

  “There, I did it!” Regina said. “Now, if I can find an emergency exit so we can get out of here . . .”

  Regina squinted, examining the buttons again. She looked up at the video feed of the cocoons, then back to the buttons. “I think I have an idea,” she said. Then she pressed the keys like a madwoman, as if she was typing a novel.

  Suddenly, the light in the room turned bright red, and a sharp beeping sound began to shriek from the communication system overhead.

  “What did you do?” Harper asked.

  But Regina didn’t answer.

  They waited.

  And waited.

  But nothing happened.

  Slowly, Harper accepted the truth. . . .

  They were trapped. With no way out.

  23

  Escape

  Just then, they heard an unexpected sound. . . .

  Laughter.

  Harper turned and saw the entire army of aliens entering through a door on the other side of the chamber, invading the mission control room.

  They circled around Harper and Regina, closing in tight so that they couldn’t run away this time. At the sight of the silvery drool dripping from their rubbery lips, Harper and Regina backed up against the massive frame of the supercomputer.

  Director McGee and Counselor Fuller were at the front.

  “I told you it’s no use trying to escape,” Director McGee said with a sinister chuckle. “But thanks for activating the release of the cocoons so that we can transfer the kids to the freezer. You’ve helped us with the next stage of our plan.”

  Harper looked at Regina. “Did you mean to do that?”

  Regina didn’t reply.

  Director McGee moved toward them like a levitating snail. Slime dripped from his swollen body onto the sleek black floor, then evaporated. As if by magic.

  “Let me take care of them,” Counselor Fuller said, shoving her way in front of him.

  “Must I remind you that I’m still the director of this operation?” Director McGee replied crossly.

  “But not for much longer,” Counselor Fuller said. “Technically, my appointment begins today.”

  Director McGee and Counselor Fuller turned and faced each other, then began arguing.

  Harper reexamined her and Regina’s situation. After a moment, she leaned over to Regina and whispered, “See that blue button over there?” Regina nodded. “You push that one, and I’ll push this one over here. I think they might open a door or something. But the aliens must use their tentacles to reach them, so you and I will have to push them at the same time.”

  Regina inspected the buttons. “I’m eighty-seven percent sure this could end badly.”

  “You have a better idea?”

  “No,” Regina replied. “Ready?”

  Harper nodded. But just before she pushed the button next to her, a thought caused her to hesitate. “What about the other campers?”

  “They’ll be fine. Trust me,” Regina said. Without another moment to waste, they began to count down together.

  “Three, two, one . . .”

  At the same time, Harper and Regina pounded their fists against the blue buttons, and the buttons turned red.

  “Stop that!” Director McGee shouted at Harper and Regina, distracted from his confrontation with Counselor Fuller.

  Right then, the alarm on the communication system stopped beeping.

  It was silent for a moment, then . . .

  It started shrieking like a siren. This time louder and faster.

  Director McGee’s antennas perked at the enhanced alarm, and his eyes grew wide. His head spun around on his body as he glanced at the video feed of the mysterious machine that had been extracting earth’s resources in the tunnel. The machine’s exhaust, the fog, was beginning to thin out.

  He jerked back toward Harper.

  “The fuel system is stopping. What have you done?”

  “I—I don’t know,” Harper said.

  She suddenly realized that the machine in the tunnel was harvesting resources from the Earth in order to power the spaceship. The contraption was like a gas pump at a corner store. It was the source of their fuel!

  Before Harper could say anything else, a robotic voice sounded over the intercom system throughout the entire ship. “Attention, fellow Weebonites. Liftoff has been activated, which means our mission here is complete. At the conclusion of this message, you will have exactly three minutes to secure yourself before ascension. It will then be seven hundred and forty-two Earth years until we arrive at Planet Xultron for our next snack break on the Intergalactic Tour. The sleep-inducing fumes will begin now. Sit back, relax, and enjoy your trip.”

  Liftoff?! Harper thought in horror.

  Right then, the vents above hissed, and a purple mist puffed out of them, traveling toward the aliens’ reptilian nostrils.

  Panic surged through Harper’s body. Not only was she surrounded by ravenous aliens, but now there was a clock ticking down to when the ship would leave Earth and carry her off into outer space to be eaten alive.

  Just then, the ship vibrated. And the voice on the intercom began to count down.

  As if things couldn’t get any worse, Harper glanced over and saw Regina’s eyes beginning to close. . . . The computer whiz—her only hope—was losing consciousness.

  24

  Escape

  Regina was fading fast. Harper lightly slapped her cheeks, trying to keep her awake. All the while, she covered her own mouth and nose with her shirt.

  At the sound of the robotic voice counting down, the aliens’ hollow eyes grew wide. Their skin turned yellow with fear. And their antennas buzzed with panic.

  Harper’s vision began to blur as well, and she knew she had to find a way out of the ship immediately, or else she’d be cruising across the galaxy in less than three minutes.

  Regina said she came here through a chute that led down from the cocoon chamber to this room, she thought. If I can find it, maybe I can get back to the entrance.

  Harper watched as the flustered extraterrestrials scrambled out of doors, into secret rooms, and to various command stations, to strap themselves into the Mother Ship. The whole scene looked like an ant pile that had been sprayed with insecticide.

  It wasn’t long before she saw Director McGee and Counselor Fuller sit down at an opening in the wall, pull a small lever, and ascend out of sight.

  That must be the chute that leads back to the entrance!

  Harper hurried over and sat herself and Regina down at the edge of the portal. She pulled the lever next to her, and a vacuum force shot them upward like on an antigravity slide.

  Once they were out of the fumes, Regina regained consciousness and opened her eyes. Harper helped her to her feet.

  They both looked around in shock.

  The cocoons had already melted from the walls. There were gooey piles of mush everywhere on the ground, where Harper expected to see disoriented campers. But there were none in sight.

  “They must have already transferred the kids to the freezers,” Harper said with a pang in her stomach.

  “We—have—to—hurry,” Regina reminded her.

  Together they ran toward the entrance and out the door of the ship.

  With less than thirty seconds left in the countdown, Harper and Regina hid behind some nearby bushes.

  But before Harper had time to breathe a sigh of relief, she saw one camper still inside the ship.

  “Darla,” she whispered, glad to see her still alive.

&nbs
p; The bewildered girl looked distraught, staring down at the abandoned human suits lying in a pile on the ground. Several aliens were hovering toward her with their antennas outstretched.

  Instinctively, Harper ran back inside the ship and grabbed Darla’s arm. “We have to get out of here, Darla! Now!”

  She tugged Darla toward the open exit. Still disoriented, Darla tried to pull away from Harper, but Harper dragged her out of the tunnel and onto the forest ground just as the cosmic door of the spaceship closed.

  A jetlike roar reverberated from the ship. It sounded like a SpaceX rocket about to launch.

  Harper, Darla, and Regina watched with mouths agape as the Mother Ship lifted off the ground, tearing away the surface of the earth that had grown on top of it.

  The camouflage of dirt and trees and rocks slid off the ship, revealing a giant silver disc with tiny black windows all around its perimeter. Harper had never seen anything like it. And she wondered exactly how long it had been hiding there in the forest.

  The flying saucer hovered there for a moment, making an eerie humming sound.

  Slowly, the name markers she had thought had been tombstones but were really individualized cubbies for the aliens’ freezer folded up into the ship like drawers into a wardrobe. Harper had a terrible, helpless feeling at the realization that all the campers were inside them and that they’d soon be turned into snacks!

  Then . . .

  A loud sonic boom shook her ears, and the ship shot up into the sky, as if on an invisible track, and disappeared into outer space.

  In a blink, it was gone, like a nightmare where only the icky residue of the memory remains.

  As soon as it was out of sight, the fog in the forest began to dissipate. The serene sounds of nature invaded Harper’s ears. She could hear the owls, the birds, the creaking trees, even the soothing whisper of water washing up against the shore of the nearby lake.

  All the campers—they’re gone, she thought, tears forming in her eyes. It was the saddest feeling she had ever felt—even sadder than the thought of her parents splitting up.

  But then . . .

  She saw a face appear behind a nearby bush.

  And another.

  And another.

  Until she saw the eyes of dozens of kids hiding there.

  “The campers,” Harper whispered, hardly believing her eyes. “But how?”

  Regina cleared her throat.

  “I reprogrammed the transfer so that the ship’s mechanical arms moved the cocoons to behind those bushes instead of into the freezers,” Regina said with a smile. “And I also erased Earth from the ship’s mapping software. With the antenna down, their operation is ruined.”

  “Brilliant,” Harper said, and patted Regina’s shoulder.

  All the campers walked out from their hiding places and joined them.

  Together they peered up and saw the stars for the first time all week. Harper knew the sun would be rising soon. And a new day would begin.

  Relieved, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thinking of all that she had lived through. All that she had survived.

  We beat it, she thought. We’re alive.

  25

  Goodbyes

  Later that morning, Harper stood waiting in the same spot where the bus had dropped her off nearly a week before. One of the campers broke into the lock box that held all the cell phones in Director McGee’s office, and so everyone was able to call their parents. Cell service worked that far into the woods after all.

  Happy to be alive, Harper let several younger campers use her cell phone first, then she called her parents. She couldn’t wait for them to get there. There was so much to talk about.

  By noon, most of the campers had been picked up. Harper, Regina, and Darla were the last ones left.

  Darla was sitting by herself nearby, quietly contemplating everything that had happened. Harper and Regina sat in the shade of a tree.

  “I—I just wanted to say thank you,” Regina said. “For saving me—twice. If you hadn’t gotten me out of that cocoon, and then out of those fumes, I’d be someone’s breakfast right about now.”

  “Hey, we saved each other,” Harper replied. “I would have been eaten alive by Brodie if it weren’t for that impromptu trust fall and your wizardly computer skills.”

  Regina laughed. “You know, no one’s ever going to believe us,” she said.

  “I’m kind of okay with that,” Harper replied. “I’d like to forget the whole thing ever happened.”

  Regina smirked. Then her eyes grew serious as if she was deep in thought.

  “I know it won’t make up for the way I was acting, but right before camp, my parents told me they were splitting up,” Regina revealed. “That’s why I was such a bully. I was scared and feeling sort of angry and alone. Anyway, when I called my dad a little while ago, he said that he and mom are going to try to work things out. So I get to go home today.”

  Harper smiled. “I’m glad your parents decided to work things out. It gives me some hope that maybe mine can too.”

  Regina returned a half smile. “Yeah, the threat of an alien abduction sort of puts things in perspective.”

  “You can say that again,” Harper said with a chuckle.

  “Hey, we should trade numbers,” Regina suggested.

  Harper took a pen and piece of paper from her backpack. She wrote down her phone number and handed it to Regina, who put the folded paper in her back pocket.

  Just then, a black Lexus SUV pulled up.

  “Those are my parents,” Regina said. “Good luck, Harper. I’ll text you soon. And maybe we can even sign up for the same camp next summer.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m never going to another summer camp for as long as I live,” Harper replied, half-joking, half-serious. “But let’s definitely stay in touch.”

  Regina smiled.

  Harper watched as she picked up her luggage, then approached Darla, who was sitting on the ground beside her backpack and sleeping bag, staring at the sky.

  “Here,” Regina said, handing Darla’s taped-up glasses to her. “I found these in the forest after the ship took off, and I fixed them for you. I’m really sorry for being so mean. I wish I could take it all back. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of the summer with your family.”

  Before Darla could respond, Regina disappeared into the Lexus and rode away.

  Strangely, as soon as she was out of sight, Darla began to cry.

  Harper went and sat beside her.

  “You okay? That was just Regina’s way of saying she’s sorry,” Harper said, patting Darla’s back.

  Darla looked up through her tears, and for the first time, Harper noticed the fluorescent green color in Darla’s eyes.

  “You two ruined everything,” Darla sniveled. “My family will never come back for me now.”

  “What are you talking about?” Harper asked. “We saved you.”

  She didn’t know why, but her instincts told her to back away from Darla.

  “Maybe they’ll come back for me if I send them a signal to let them know all the snacks didn’t get away,” Darla said, holding up a small alien beacon crowned by an antenna. Then she gripped Harper’s forearm tight as a wrench and whispered, “I still have one left.”

  Acknowledgments

  “I am a part of all that I have met.”

  —Alfred, Lord Tennyson

  There are quite a few people to acknowledge here in this book of the Monsterstreet series:

  First of all, my Mom, Dad, Sis—everything I am is because of you, and words can never express the depth of my gratefulness. I can only hope to honor you with the life I live and the works I create.

  All my family: Granddad, Grandmom, Pappa Hugg, Mamma Hugg, Lilla, Meemaw, Nanny, GG, Grandmother Hugghins, Marilyn, Steve, Haddie, Jude, Beckett, Uncle Hal, Aunt Cathy, Nicole, Dylan, Aunt Rhonda, Uncle Greg, Sam, Jake, Trey, Uncle Johnny, Aunt Glynis, Jerod, Chad, Aunt Jodie, Uncle Terry, Natalie, Mitchell, Anna, David, Hannah, David N
evin, Joy, Lukas, Teresa, and Aunt Jan.

  Teachers, coaches, mentors, colleagues, and students: Jeanie Johnson, David Vardeman, Pat Vaughn, Lee Carter, Robert Darden, Kevin Reynolds, Ray Bradbury, R.L. Stine, Rikki Coke (Wiethorn), Peggy Jezek, Kathi Couch, Jill Osborne Wilkinson, Marla Jaynes, Karen Deaconson, Su Milam, Karen Copeland, Corrie Dixon, Nancy Evans Hutto, Pam Dominik, Jean Garner, Randy Crawford, Pat Zachry, Eddie Sherman, Scott Copeland, Heidi Kunkel, Brian Boyd, Sherry Rogers, Lisa Osborne, Wes Evans, Betsy Barry, Karen Hix, Sherron Boyd, Mrs. Kahn, Mrs. Turk, Mrs. Schroeder, Mrs. Battle, Mrs. McCracken, Nancy Frame Chiles, Mrs. Adkins, Kim Pearson, Mrs. Harvey, Elaine Spence, Barbara Fulmer, Julie Schrotel, Barbara Belk, Mrs. Reynolds, Vanessa Diffenbaugh, Elisabeth McKetta, Bryan Delaney, Talaya Delaney, Wendy Allman, John Belew, Vicki Klaras, Gery Greer and Bob Ruddick, Greg Garrett, Chris Seay, Sealy and Matt Yates, David Crowder, Cecile Goyette, Kirby Kim, Mike Simpson, Quinlan Lee, Clay Butler, Mary Darden, Derek Smith, Brian Elliot, Rachel Moore, Naymond Keathley, Steve Sadler, Jimmy and Janet Dorrell, Glenn Blalock, Katie Cook, SJ Murray, Greg Chan, Lorri Shackelford, Tim Fleischer, Byron Weathersbee, Chuck Walker, John Durham, Ron Durham, Bob Johns, Kyle Lake, Kevin Roe, Barby Williams, Nancy Parrish, Joani Livingston, Madeleine Barnett, Diane McDaniel, Beth Hair, Laura Cubos, Sarah Holland, Christe Hancock, Cheryl Cooper, Jeni Smith, Traci Marlin, Jeremy Ferrerro, Maurice and Gloria Walker, Charlotte McDonald, Dana Gietzen, Leighanne Parrish, Heather Helton, Corrie Cubos, all the librarians, teachers, secretaries, students, custodians, and principals at Midway ISD, Waco ISD, Riesel ISD, and Connally ISD, all my apprentices at Moonsung Writing Camp and Camp Imagination, and to my hometown community of Woodway, Texas.

  Friends and collaborators: Nathan “Waylon” Jennings, Craig Cunningham, Blake Graham, Susannah Lipsey, Hallie Day, Ali Rodman Wallace, Jered Wilkerson, Brian McDaniel, Meghan Stanley Lynd, Suzanne Hoag Steece, the Jennings family, the Rodman family, the Carter family, all the families of the “Red River Gang,” the Cackleberries, the Geib family, Neva Walker and family, Rinky and Hugh Sanders, Clay Rodman, Steven Fischer, Dustin Boyd, Jeff Vander Woude, Randy Stephens, Allen Ferguson, Scott Lynd, Josh Zachry, Scott Crawford, Jourdan Gibson Stewart, Crystal Carter, Kristi Kangas Miller, Taylor Christian, Deanna Dyer Williams, Matt Jennings, Laurie McCool Henderson, Trey Witcher, Genny Pattillo Davis, Brady Williams, Brook Williams Henry, Michael Henry, Jamie Jennings, Jordan Jones, Adrianna Bell Walker, Sarah Rogers Combs, Kayleigh Cunningham, Rich and Megan Roush, Adam Chop, Kimberly Garth Batson, Luke Stanton, Kevin Brown, Britt Knighton, George Cowden, Jenny and Ryan Jamison, Julie Hamilton, Kyle and Emily Knighton, Ray Small, Jeremy Combs, Mike Trozzo, Allan Marshall, Coleman Hampton, Kent Rabalais, Laura Aldridge, Mikel Hatfield Porter, Edith Reitmeier, Ben Geib, Ashley Vandiver Dalton, Tamarah Johnson, Amanda Hutchison Thompson, Morgan McKenzie Williams, Robbie Phillips, Shane Wilson, J.R. Fleming, Andy Dollerson, Terry Anderson, Mary Anzalone, Chris Ermoian, Chris Erlanson, Greg Peters, Doreen Ravenscroft, Brooke Larue Miceli, Emily Spradling Freeman, Brittany Braden Rowan, Kim Evans Young, Kellis Gilleland Webb, Lindsay Crawford, April Carroll Mureen, Rebekah Croft Georges, Amanda Finnell Brown, Kristen Rash Di Campli, Clint Sherman, Big Shane Smith, Little Shane Smith, Allen Childs, Brandon Hodges, Justin Martin, Eric Lovett, Cody Fredenberg, Tierre Simmons, Bear King, Brady Lillard, Charlie Collier, Aaron Hattier, Keith Jordan, Greg Weghorst, Seth Payne, BJ Carr, Andria Mullins Scarbrough, Lindsey Kelley Palumbo, Cayce Connell Bellinger, David Maness, Ryan Smith, Marc Uptmore, Kelly Maddux McCarver, Robyn Klatt Areheart, Emily Hoyt Crew, Matt Etter, Logan Walter, Jessica Talley, JT Carpenter, Ryan Michaelis, Audrey Malone Andrews, Amy Achor Blankson, Chad Conine, Hart Robinson, Wade Washmon, Clay Gibson, Barrett Hall, Chad Lemons, Les Strech, Marcus Dracos, Tyler Ellis, Taylor Rudd, James Yarborough, Scott Robison, Bert Vandiver, Clark Richardson, Luke Blount, Allan Gipe, Daniel Fahlenkamp, Ben Hogan, Chris Porter, Reid Johnson, Ryan Stanton, Brian Reis, Ty Sprague, Eric Ellis, Jeremy Gann, Jeff Sadler, Ryan Pryor, Jared Ray, Dustin Dickerson, Reed Collins, Ben Marx, Sammy Rajaratnam, Art Wellborn, Cory Ferguson, Jonathan King, Jim King, Anthony Edwards, Craig Nash, Dillon Meek, Jonathan Stringer, the Bode and Moore families, Jackie and Denver Mills, the Warrior Poets, the Wild Hearts, the Barbaric Yawps, the Bangarang Brothers, and all the Sacred Circle guys (CARPE DIEM).