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The Flock of Fury Page 7
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“Would you rather be down there with the ugly club?” Archebold asked.
“You’ve got a point,” the troll answered. “It is sort of cozy here.”
“Well, don’t get too comfortable, because I’m already thinking about what we have to do next.”
“And that is?” Halifax asked.
“We have to warn Billy.”
“And how, pray tell, are we going to do that while we’re trapped in a heating duct?”
“You of all people know that these ducts go all over the inside of the Roost,” Archebold explained.
“Go on,” Halifax urged. “I’m fascinated.”
“Well, we’ll crawl through the ducts to get us just outside the Roost and use the shadow paths to get to Billy to let him know what’s up.”
“But what about the Sassafrases?” Halifax asked nervously. “Whoever is down there giving orders told them to guard the shadow paths.”
“Then we’ll just have to be extracareful so they don’t catch us,” Archebold explained. He looked at the two little monsters. “I want you two to stay here and keep an eye on things, but stay out of trouble.”
The two beasties nodded, but something told Archebold that staying out of trouble just wasn’t in their repertoire.
Reluctantly, he and Halifax headed out through the ducts.
It felt as though they’d crawled through thousands of miles of heating ducts, and both were anxious to get to Billy.
“How about this one?” Halifax finally asked, peering out a vent into a dark corridor.
Archebold crawled up beside him and took a peek.
“I think this is good,” the goblin said. “If I remember right, the staircase up to the human world is right over there.” Archebold pointed as Halifax nodded. “Are you ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” the troll answered. “Hey, Archebold, how do you think those bad guys found the Roost anyway? I thought it was supersecret.”
“Me too,” Archebold answered, troubled by Halifax’s comments. “And who was Sireena Sassafras talking to on our monitor screens?”
“Got me again,” Halifax said with a shrug.
“Mysteries that we’ll have to solve after we warn Billy,” Archebold said. He pointed to the vent. “Do your stuff, pally.”
With those words, Halifax produced a screwdriver from the bib pocket of his overalls and removed the screws that kept the vent cover locked in place.
“I’ll go first,” Archebold told him, putting the cover aside.
“Be careful,” Halifax warned as he watched him drop out of the vent to the shadow path.
Archebold landed in a squat and carefully checked out his surroundings.
“The coast is clear,” the goblin whispered up to his friend.
Halifax climbed from the vent, letting his feet dangle for a moment before he dropped to the corridor of shadow below.
Archebold placed a stubby finger to his mouth. “Let’s keep the voices down just in case,” he said, motioning for Halifax to follow. “C’mon, the stairs are right over—”
The two scuttled around a corner in the blackness and practically ran into the backs of the Sassafras family.
Archebold and Halifax froze. The three evil trolls hadn’t yet noticed them.
“Are you sure the battery is charged on this thing?” Mother Sassafras asked, giving a nasty-looking blaster pistol a shake.
“Yes, I’m sure, Mother,” Sigmund answered, trying to take the weapon from her hand. “I charged it myself last night, and you need to be careful with it before you—”
Fzzappp!
A bolt of crackling power shot from the gun, striking Sireena—who had been trying to touch up her makeup—in her rather large buttocks. The shadow passage was suddenly filled with the strangely succulent aroma of roasting pig.
“Yeoowch!” the female sibling roared, her tiny mirror flying from her hand.
“I guess you were right,” Mother Sassafras told her son, eyeing the weapon with an approving nod.
“Why should I not destroy the both of you?” Sireena bellowed, pointing her own weapon menacingly at her mother and brother.
“That would be something, eh, Archebold?” Halifax said in a normal-sounding voice. “Let them take themselves out and Billy wouldn’t have to do a thing.”
The Sassafrases turned as one toward them.
“Did I say that too loud?” Halifax asked.
Archebold slowly shook his head. “Some days I just don’t know about you.” He reached out and grabbed his troll buddy by the arm. “Run like the dickens!” he shrieked, heading straight for the awful family.
“Get them!” Sireena screamed, trying to aim down the barrel of her weapon, but Archebold and Halifax were moving too fast, right toward Mother Sassafras.
“I’ll get them,” the giant troll bellowed, pointing her blaster at the pair.
“Under the bridge!” Archebold screamed as he dragged Halifax between the giant troll mother’s legs.
“That was amazing!” Halifax gasped, jumping up to run alongside him.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” the goblin said, his short legs pumping like mad. “We’ve got to get to the steps up to the surface.”
Beams of crackling yellow power struck the ground and walls of the passage as the Sassafras family chased them.
“Stop running so that we can kill you!” Sigmund ordered, firing off multiple shots that temporarily illuminated a section of the path.
“Right over there,” Archebold said, steering Halifax toward the stone stairway to the world of humans above.
“Those guys give trolls a bad name,” Halifax said, quickly glancing over his shoulder to see if the evil family was still after them.
Of course they were.
“C’mon, start climbing,” Archebold said, pushing his buddy in front of him to begin the trek upward.
“Do you think they’ll try to follow us?” Halifax asked breathlessly.
“Don’t know,” Archebold said, and he craned his neck slightly, looking down at the stairs they’d already climbed. He could hear the Sassafrases coming around the bend, arguing among themselves.
Suddenly Sireena appeared, aiming her rifle at them. “There they are!” she screeched, her voice like talons scraping down a sheet of glass.
Her brother and mother attempted to squeeze into the passage behind her.
Archebold was trying to push Halifax up the stairs with all his might, but the troll was tired and his legs were slowing down.
“Y’gotta move, buddy,” Archebold cried.
Halifax tried, but just wasn’t fast enough.
The Sassafras family fired their weapons all at once, the beams of destructive light striking the steps and walls of concentrated shadow around them.
Halifax and Archebold managed to avoid getting hit, but then the unthinkable happened. Just as they were beginning to climb the steps again, the shadowy substance that made up the staircase began to crumble.
Try as they might, they weren’t fast enough to move themselves up the crumbling bits. They found themselves suddenly falling.
Down into shadow darker than any shadow had the right to be.
Billy pushed his plate of Chinese food away. He was hungry enough to have had at least two more helpings of sesame chicken, but there just wasn’t the time. He had to try to accomplish something on his science fair assignment tonight.
“Don’t you want your fortune cookie?” his mom asked.
“Already know my fortune,” he said as he started up the stairs two at a time. “It’ll say ‘You will work, work, work and then do some more work just in case you haven’t worked enough’ . . . or something to that effect.”
He headed to his room, going right for his desk and his stack of notes. It killed him to be sharing a project, especially something as cool as the Vesuvius project. In fact, he would hate to share any of his many awesome ideas for this year’s science fair.
He plopped i
nto his desk chair with a sigh and grabbed the stack of papers. Sifting through the stack, past all kinds of notes on all kinds of cool science experiments, he finally found what he was looking for. He decided to start a list of all that he had to do to make this project happen.
It would have been a whole lot easier if his team were actually going to help him. For a second he thought about telling on Randy and the others, turning them all in to Mr. Harpin, but he didn’t feel like spending any time in the hospital with multiple broken bones.
Remembering Cole’s story about finding at least one thing you liked about something you didn’t want to do, Billy threw himself into a drawing of Vesuvius and the city of Pompeii beneath it. If he could get the actual model to look half as good as this blueprint, he was golden.
Billy was coloring in the rivers of lava flowing toward the Italian city when he heard the ruckus outside. Going to the window, he realized that the noise was coming from inside the garage.
He was immediately worried. He kept his coolest stuff in the garage, and didn’t want anything—animal, vegetable or mineral—fooling around with it.
He left his room, went downstairs and found his father in the hallway. His dad was brandishing a golf club as if it were Excalibur itself.
“Did you hear that?” he asked Billy.
Billy’s mother was still sitting on the love seat, an afghan pulled up to her face. “What do you think it is?” she asked. “It’s not burglars, is it? Do you think it could be burglars? Maybe I should dial 911.” She started to get up.
“Don’t,” Dad ordered, pointing the nine iron in her direction. “Billy and I are going to see what’s up.” He nodded to Billy and they made their way ever so carefully into the kitchen. “It’s probably just a raccoon,” his father said, opening the door.
“Or some kind of monkey,” Billy added, his imagination getting the better of him.
Dad stopped and turned to him. “A monkey? Why would there be a monkey loose in our garage in Bradbury, Massachusetts?”
Billy shrugged. “Maybe a circus train derailed and all the animals got loose.”
His father shook his head and continued down the steps.
“The monkey could be some kind of specially trained monkey . . . maybe an assistant to the knife thrower! And he’s in our garage right now sharpening his knives so that—”
“Do you mind?” his father asked, about to unlock the garage door.
“Sorry,” Billy said. “Sometimes I just can’t turn it off.” His dad grunted as he pulled the door open and raised his golf club.
Slowly they both stepped inside. It was pitch-black, the light from the front porch of the house providing the only illumination.
“Turn on the light,” his dad commanded, poised to strike if necessary.
Billy fished for the switch, his hand sliding over the surface of the wall. Just as he was about to flick the switch, a strange buzzing sound filled the air.
“What’s that?” Billy asked, pulling his hand back.
“I don’t know,” his dad said.
Just then something flew at them out of the darkness—something that glowed a fiery orange.
“Arrrgh!” his father screamed, swinging the golf club like a deranged Jedi Knight.
“Arrreeeiiiiiii!” Billy screamed, ducking to get out of his father’s way.
It was some kind of bug, a giant glowing bug, and his father was doing everything in his power to swat it from the air. “It’s some kind of bird!” he yelled, swinging wildly, knocking over a box of Christmas dishes that smashed on the floor. “Maybe a vulture!”
Billy knew it wasn’t a vulture. As he watched the large shape buzz and dart around, he suddenly realized who it was flying inside his garage.
The glow from the insect went dark and the buzzing abruptly stopped.
His father stood tensed, ready for action that didn’t seem to be coming. Finally, he fumbled for the light. Billy held his breath, not sure what they would see.
Nothing.
“I think it flew past us and out the door,” Dad said, finally lowering his guard as well as his nine iron. “Wonder what the heck a vulture was doing inside our garage.” He poked around with the golf club, making sure that whatever it was had indeed gone. “Guess we took care of that.” His puffed out his chest proudly. “Let’s go tell Mom that we vanquished our foe.”
“You go tell her,” Billy said. “I’ve got to get some supplies for my science fair project.”
His dad looked around the room again. “Sure you’ll feel safe enough?”
Billy nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
His dad took one last look around before handing Billy the golf club. “Better take this,” he said. “You know, just in case.”
Billy took it, smiling. “Thanks.”
“Lock up the garage before you come in,” his father said as he went into the house.
Billy could hear his mother just inside the door, asking what was going on, saying that she had heard a crash. Dad was telling her about the vulture that had attacked him and how it had first knocked over the Christmas dishes.
The door closed on his mother’s shriek.
Billy reached over and turned off the light. It was wicked bright, and he knew that things from Monstros were scared by that much light.
He was looking for an insect—firefly, to be precise.
A firefly that went by the name of Walter.
“Hey, Walter, was that you?” Billy called out, looking around the garage, golf club in hand. “Hey!”
A section of the garage suddenly became illuminated with an orange glow. It came from behind a stack of boxes filled with old coats that his mom promised to donate to charity every year but never got around to packing up.
Billy spotted Walter, the firefly’s backside glowing brightly as he directed his light toward the shapes of Archebold and Halifax.
The two looked terrified.
“What the heck are you guys doing in here?” Billy asked.
“It’s bad, Billy. Really, really bad,” Archebold said. Halifax just stood there and trembled.
Billy felt his heartbeat quicken. “Is there something wrong in Monstros?” he asked.
They both nodded vigorously, until Halifax finally got the courage to speak. “The bad guys . . . the ones that kicked our butts . . . they’re back and they attacked the Roost—”
“And are gonna ruin Monstros to try to get everybody to hate you,” Archebold added.
“They already hate me,” Billy said.
“They want folks to hate you even more,” Halifax explained. “If you can believe it.”
Billy stared at his friends, feeling the fear come off them in waves. He was starting to become afraid himself.
“So, what’re you gonna do . . . Owlboy?” Walter the firefly suddenly asked, a twisted sneer on his buggy face. The firefly had never liked Billy, believing that he’d been a lousy choice for the next Owlboy.
But standing there, looking at the giant bug and wishing that he had a giant boot to crush him flat, Billy had to ask himself . . .
What am I going to do?
CHAPTER 7
“Knock it off, Walter,” Archebold warned, grabbing hold of the large bug and trying to shove it back inside his tuxedo coat pocket. “Things are bad enough without you causing trouble.”
“No,” Billy suddenly spoke up. “No, he’s right. What am I gonna do about this?”
The bug chuckled as Archebold pushed him into the pocket.
“Don’t listen to him, Billy,” Archebold said. “He’s just jealous because he can never be Owlboy.”
“That’s a lie!” Walter buzzed from deep within the goblin’s pocket.
“Shush!” Archebold scolded, slapping the side of his jacket.
“No, I have to listen to him,” Billy explained. “If I don’t, everything he said to me when I first became Owlboy will end up being true. He didn’t think I had what it takes to be a superhero, and now’s my chance to prove him wr
ong.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to Walter,” Halifax said. “He’s just a bug whose butt glows.”
Archebold came over and gripped Billy’s arm. “It’s really bad, Billy,” the goblin said. “They waltzed right into the Roost as if they owned the place.”
Billy was confused.
“They walked right in?” he asked. “How did they even know where it is?”
Archebold shrugged.
“It’s almost as if they had inside information,” Halifax whispered, looking around. “Like somebody told them exactly where to find it.”
“That’s not good,” Billy said with a shake of his head.
“None of it’s good, Bill,” Archebold said. He started to walk around the garage.
“So this is where you live?” Halifax asked, following the goblin. “I wouldn’t mind a place like this.”
“This is just the garage,” Billy said. “My room’s in the house over there.” He pointed toward the window in the door.
“Swanky,” Halifax complimented Billy with a nod.
“Whatever,” Billy said. “So what’re we gonna do about Monstros, guys? Help me out here.”
Halifax hovered around a plastic tub. “What’s in here?” he asked.
“Stuff for my science project at school,” Billy explained.
“Good gravy, Marie!” Halifax screamed, looking in the plastic crate. “There’s enough heavy ordnance in here to wipe out an army!”
“Heavy ordnance?” Billy asked, joining the troll and Archebold at the tub. “It’s just odds and ends I picked up at the store.”
“Do they teach death in your science class, Billy?” Halifax asked. He reached inside the box and carefully removed two objects.
“Yeah,” Billy said. “Those are potatoes. . . . What’re you gonna do, bonk me in the head with them?”
“The potato has been outlawed in Monstros since pretty much the beginning. There’s way too much power stored in one of these tubers.”
The troll carefully set the potatoes down, as if afraid they might explode, and rummaged through the box. “I’m terrified by the destructive potential I see in here,” he said, lifting up a bottle of vinegar and a box of baking soda.