Monster Club

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Monster Club Page 2

by Gavin Brown


  “Maybe wonder that sort of thing after we catch it, huh?” Spike said. “Or if you meet one of the three known wizards in North America, you can ask them.”

  “Okay, so then where is it?” Tommy asked.

  Karim looked around the hallway, trying to take it in the way that a basilisk would. The fun-house effect of his goggles definitely helped him feel like it was an alien environment. So many classrooms, all basically the same … For just a second he imagined himself as that scaly little devil, hunting for a safe place in a land full of two-legged giants. Where would he run?

  “Basilisks like warm places,” Karim said. “It came this way in order to get to Mr. Reynolds’s room.” The answer was out before he could consider whether he actually wanted to give his two insane friends the information that would take them all deeper into danger.

  “Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “Mr. Reynolds is like a billion years old and cranks the heat way up.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Spike was already starting down the hall, with Tommy at her heels.

  Because if there was one thing Spike and Tommy liked, it was pulling Karim into more trouble. He sighed and jogged along after them. What if he didn’t have the guts to handle this? He’d just have to hope he could invent some sort of strategy when the time came.

  It was go time. It was game on.

  “Good luck,” Karim said, knees practically knocking together from fright, as he handed Tommy the goggles. Without the mirrored lenses shielding Karim’s face, Tommy could see the fear in his friend’s eyes.

  “So, find out where the basilisk is,” Spike ordered, “and then we can come in without looking directly at it.”

  Tommy had known all along this would fall to him. Sometimes a job called for brawn and bravery. This was his moment.

  “Three … two … one,” he counted down. “Let’s do this.”

  Tommy stepped into the room, and Spike slammed the door shut behind him. At the sound of the door slamming, something darted out in front of him and streaked across the room. Tommy immediately squealed and jumped up onto a desk. He really hoped his friends hadn’t heard that, but he knew they had.

  Tommy stepped down onto the floor. “I’ve spotted it,” he said, trying to stay calm and confident. “It ran toward the front of the room. I’m onto the little sucker.”

  He advanced slowly, then leaned down close to the floor. Sometimes, to catch a monster, you had to sink to its level. That was what Tommy figured, anyway. The closest they’d ever come to hunting monsters was when they practiced capturing chickens and rabbits at Adventure Camp. The counselors said they weren’t allowed to practice with real monsters because of “insurance reasons,” which Tommy knew was just another way of saying, “We can’t do it because we’re total wimps and also hate fun.”

  There wasn’t much light, but he could see something underneath Mr. Reynolds’s desk. Right next to an old pair of dentures, he could see the outline of a lizard. Tommy pulled out his phone and used the flashlight to get a better look. The four-legged beast was about a foot long and covered in scales, with sharp ridges down its back and a crest on its head. A real live basilisk!

  Tommy glanced at the door. Still closed. No way for his friends to see and make fun of him. He held his phone out, turned on the flashlight, fiddled until both he and the creature were in the frame, and snapped a quick selfie. He made sure to get the Brotein (“Drink our shakes. Push mad plates.”) logo on his T-shirt in the shot, of course. The basilisk rustled a bit, but even with the flash, the creature didn’t run for it.

  Tommy checked the pic and grinned. Boom. Nailed it.

  “Okay, guys, come in!” Tommy called. “It’s hiding under the teacher’s desk and doesn’t look like it’s gonna be coming out anytime soon.”

  Spike and Karim opened the door and entered the room, both carefully looking at the ceiling, occasionally bumping into chairs and desks as they made their way to the front of the room.

  The classroom was quiet except for the basilisk scratching under the desk and the hum of fluorescent lights above. The sound of sirens and teachers doing roll calls drifted in through a cracked window.

  “The counselors at Adventure Camp would say we’re making a big mistake,” Karim warned, his eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling directly above them.

  “You don’t get to be a famous adventurer without taking a few chances.” Tommy dropped and did a couple of push-ups. Even though Spike was looking at the ceiling, she rolled her eyes. Whatever Tommy needed to do to get psyched up, she supposed.

  “We’ve got the right gear, the right plan, and the monster’s one weakness,” she said. “Hand me the weasel fur and we’re good to go.” This would be the first time they’d gotten an up-close look at a monster that Mort’s ranked as Level 2. Spike was more than confident they could handle a challenge like this. The Level 1 monsters at Adventure Camp had been barely any danger at all.

  “This. Will. Be. Awesome,” Tommy said, pulling out a pouch of fur and opening it for easy access. Spike nodded. She had been skeptical when Tommy said he could get the fur, but the big lug had pulled through.

  “Okay. Okay, no problem.” Karim brushed his black hair from his face with a nervous flick. “My dad took out a whole nest of basilisks once, all by himself. Without weasel fur.”

  Under the desk, the basilisk hissed, as if taunting them to come closer. Well, Spike thought, it’s going to get exactly what it wants.

  “Here,” Tommy said, handing Spike the goggles.

  “Doesn’t one of you want to do it?” she asked. “Those look a little big for me.”

  Karim shook his head. “This was your idea,” he said, backing away with a scared look on his face. Karim was clever, but Spike wasn’t sure he had the stomach for adventuring.

  Spike looked over at Tommy.

  “I found it,” Tommy said. “And I got the weasel fur. But I don’t think I can fit my arms there to make the grab. I’ll be the backup, in case you need brute force, you know?”

  “Cowards.” Spike took the goggles from Tommy and pulled the strap around her head as tight as it would go. It looked like she would have to do the hard part. Again.

  “Be careful,” Karim warned her. “If you get so much as a scratch on these goggles, my dad will kill me.”

  “The basilisk’s going to be paralyzed by the weasel fur,” Spike said, rolling her eyes at the boys for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “It won’t be able to move. Then we just take it out and we can get a closer look. It’s shedding scales, so we can probably even get a few for souvenirs. Super easy.”

  Karim still looked uncertain, but Spike shrugged. They’d come this far; she wasn’t going to turn back now. She looked around through the mirrored goggles, inspecting the slightly distorted view of the classroom.

  “Okay, one of you stand in front of the desk, and the other behind it,” she instructed. “To make the basilisk think it’s trapped. I’ll watch it and tell Tommy where to drop the fur.”

  They surrounded the desk as Spike crouched down. There was the basilisk, right up against the wall, just like Tommy said. Its tongue slipped in and out as it stared at her. Was it wondering why she wasn’t turned to stone?

  “Okay, Tommy,” she said, raising her hand and indicating the spot along the top of the desk directly above the basilisk. “Drop the fur down there.”

  Long seconds passed as Tommy fumbled with the bag. Not surprisingly, he clearly hadn’t practiced beforehand. Working with amateurs like this was always such a chore. Sure, this was Spike’s first monster hunt too, but she had been preparing for it her whole life.

  Finally, Tommy dropped the fur. From below, Spike watched as it drifted down through the small gap between the wall and the desk, and settled on and around the lizard.

  The basilisk twitched once, then stopped moving.

  “It shouldn’t take long,” Karim said, his low tone filled with awe. “Mort’s says basilisks are frightened by even the sight of weasel fur.


  Spike counted to twenty quietly. The basilisk stared at her for the entire time, perfectly still; the only movement was its nostrils flaring slightly.

  “Okay, it must be paralyzed,” she said.

  “What do we do now?” Tommy asked. “Should I charge it? Is it time to try brute force?” He flexed an arm. Spike noted that while Tommy’s arm was rather large, it wasn’t particularly muscle shaped.

  “Nope,” Spike answered. “Now it’s paralyzed for several hours. We just need to grab it.”

  Spike extended her arm ever so slowly, twisting slightly to get closer so that her arm could fit in the narrow space between the desk and the wall.

  “I’ve got you now,” she whispered as she reached out. Looking at the spiky ridges that ran down the basilisk’s spine, she was very grateful that it was completely immobilized.

  She was only a few inches away. And then she opened her hand and grasped …

  Nothing.

  By the time Spike’s hand closed, the basilisk had darted out from under the desk, first toward Karim, who was jumping back in terror and holding his hands over his eyes. Then it came back straight at her.

  Spike yelped, dodged sideways, tripped over a desk, and went sprawling. As she fell, the goggles flew off her head and hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

  “The goggles!” Tommy yelled. He picked them up and held the shattered frames.

  Karim made a choked sound, like a dog that had its tail stepped on.

  “Tommy!” Spike called. “Where did you get that weasel fur?!” The plan was perfect. Tommy must have messed it up somehow. Like usual.

  “I just used my dad’s beard trimmer on my sister’s pet weasel, duh!” He backed away from the hissing basilisk, knocking over several chairs and a desk in the process.

  “Um. Tommy. Your sister has a ferret,” Karim pointed out. His eyes were glued shut, and he was steadily sliding along the wall, moving away from the basilisk.

  “What? I thought weasels and ferrets were the same thing!” Tommy protested. “Like horses and ponies. Or … Wait, is the ferret the female and the weasel is the male?”

  Karim groaned. “No, Tommy. They’re not the same thing at all. Different species. Only weasel fur works.”

  “Seriously, Tommy?” Spike rolled her eyes. She tried to keep her attention on the basilisk, without looking directly at it, as the creature scampered around in a panic. Then, in a blur, it darted to the other side of the room and leaped into the air. Spike never could have imagined such a small lizard making a jump like that, but the basilisk somehow caught the bottom of the windowsill, pulled itself up, and wriggled through the crack in the window.

  “Ugh,” Karim said. “We never should have used my dad’s goggles. He’s going to end me.”

  “Hmm, maybe we should’ve gone with brute strength,” Tommy said.

  “Maybe you should’ve known the difference between a weasel and a ferret!” Spike shot back.

  “Maybe we should’ve closed the window,” Karim noted.

  “Maybe we should get out of here,” Spike suggested.

  On that, they could all agree.

  The basilisk escaped into the school’s courtyard, which was totally enclosed. But when the trio got there, it was gone.

  Honestly, to Karim that was a huge relief. Maybe they could just forget this whole ordeal and join the other students without anyone noticing.

  “Where are you?” Tommy demanded, stalking around the courtyard like an angry mountain troll.

  “We have to think systematically,” Spike said. “What are all the places it could have gone?”

  While Spike and Tommy examined each window and door, Karim took a deep breath. There were just too many options—four open windows, two doors—and there was always the chance that the creature could have climbed the walls. All Karim had to do was wait a minute for Spike to realize that this was hopeless.

  But his mind was working overtime. What did basilisks like? What did they hate? According to Mort’s, basilisks hated open spaces, and they liked heat.

  Karim tried to keep his eyes still, but instead his gaze darted from place to place, envisioning the courtyard the way a six-inch-tall lizard would see it. The doors and windows in this courtyard all led back to classrooms, none of them as warm as Mr. Reynolds’s room had been.

  “Shut up,” Karim muttered to himself, but his imagination started offering up possibilities. Where else in the school would the basilisk want to go?

  The basilisk was stuck in the school. It had been chased around by what were, to a basilisk, giants. First monster control, then three kids who showered it with fur. The poor lizard was trapped in this maze of classrooms—a world designed for creatures ten times its size.

  Dark. Warm.

  Karim’s eyes caught a small grate at the base of the far wall. That would lead down. Down to the basement. Down to the boiler room, the warmest place in the school. But it was too small for the basilisk to fit through. Wasn’t it? Maybe if it could squeeze through a crack in a window …

  Karim tried to stop his legs, but they took him to the grate. He leaned down to inspect it. Two pieces of the metal grating were bent to the sides, one still gleaming with a fresh scratch. The image was perfectly clear in Karim’s mind. That must have been where the basilisk’s ridge cut as it pushed its way through.

  “Find something?” Spike asked.

  Karim blinked at Spike. Well, there went his plan to give up and go outside to safety. “It went through here, into the basement,” he explained, pointing at the grate. “I imagine it’s heading for the boiler room.”

  “Okay, let’s get him,” Tommy said. “Lizard bro is going down.” He cracked his knuckles to underscore the point.

  “Is this right?” Karim asked. “Should we maybe leave the basilisk alone?” He was still a little scared of the lizard with the petrifying glare, but Karim could sympathize with a creature that was looking for a place to hide.

  Spike rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? The guy from monster control got turned to stone. If we don’t catch the basilisk, monster control guy’s buddies will probably come and use poison or something. We have to capture it or it will die.”

  Karim had to admit that Spike had a good point there.

  “Come on, your dad would have this thing captured and delivered home by now!” Tommy said. “It’s in your blood.”

  “I know, I know, he’s the greatest,” Karim said, waving the comment off. “But you’re right. If we don’t do something, the basilisk will keep turning people to stone, or monster control will probably kill it.”

  “It’s settled, then.” Spike led them to the nearest stairs.

  “Yep, lizard bro is gonna get destroyed,” Tommy said.

  “I think you mean captured for its own protection,” Karim corrected.

  “Whatever.” Tommy shrugged. “Same difference.”

  Finally! They were going to catch a monster!

  The basement was as dark as any dungeon or crypt Tommy could imagine. He thought it was just like an adventure straight from the classic adventure shows, like the one Karim’s dad used to host back in the day.

  “Ouch,” Karim said as they entered the boiler room.

  Tommy winced. The janitor was frozen in stone, his face a look of shock. One of his stone fingers was still up his nose.

  “Well, I guess we were right,” Spike said matter-of-factly. “And I guess Custodian Saunders here didn’t get much warning …” She knocked on the janitor’s head as though looking to see if anyone were home.

  Tommy shook his head. Custodian Saunders had always been nice to them when he saw the three friends sneaking around on awesome adventures. He’d never ratted them out, not once. Poor guy. This rumor would probably get out for sure, even though everybody picked their nose, as far as Tommy knew. You were just supposed to pretend you didn’t. Like peeing in the pool.

  “Hold still,” Karim instructed, and they froze. The orange light from the boiler threw wi
ld shadows on the walls.

  After a long pause, a faint scratching sound came from behind a pile of boxes.

  “It’s dark in here,” Karim said, grabbing an empty cardboard box from the pile. “If we could just get this box over the basilisk … But how are we going to see it?”

  “If only we had weasel fur.” Spike jabbed Tommy in the ribs.

  “It’s not my fault stretchy rodents come in two flavors!” Tommy complained. It really wasn’t fair, having so many animals that looked the same. This was worse than that time in first grade when he’d followed some woman around the mall for half an hour, thinking it was his mom because they had the same coat.

  “Whatever. Let’s get this over with,” Spike said. “Tommy and I will flush it out, and Karim can catch it under the box.”

  “Me?” Karim asked. “Are you sure—”

  “You’re the fastest,” Spike interrupted. “Just do it. I’ll tell you when.”

  Tommy and Spike loudly approached one side of the boxes while Karim crept up on the other, the box gripped in his hands.

  “Here, little basilisk,” Tommy said.

  Spike stepped forward, stomping loudly.

  Spooked, the basilisk shot the opposite direction, going straight for Karim. But instead of using the box, Karim jumped backward, squealing in terror. He tripped as the basilisk darted the other way, and ended up falling on his butt as the basilisk hid behind the boiler.

  Spike and Tommy walked over to the boiler, but Karim simply sat there, staring after the basilisk.

  “Really, Karim?” Spike complained.

  “Sorry,” Karim said, rubbing his butt. “I’ll do it next time, I swear. I just … I was afraid I’d look at it if I tried to catch it.”

  “It was moving way too fast, anyway.” Tommy stomped the floor in frustration. “How are we supposed to catch this thing if we can’t even look at it?” Adventuring was supposed to be about heroically battling monsters and feats of strength, not chasing salamanders around the basement of his middle school.

 

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