Текст книги "The Villain Virus"

Автор книги: Michael Buckley

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

As he raged, he stepped right into Gluestick’s trap, and his feet caught fast. He pulled and pulled, doing his best to free himself, but he couldn’t budge.

“Um, I know you’re in charge, and I don’t want to be pushy, but right now would be the perfect time for Braceface to do his work,” Pufferfish said as she scratched at her leg. Flinch knew she was also allergic to not being in charge.

“All right, Braceface!” he shouted. “Let him have it!”

An enormous fist made of orthodontic appliances shot out of Jackson’s mouth. It clocked the Extra in the chin, and the monster teetered, dazed.

“Hit him again?” Flinch asked, looking to Pufferfish for reassurance.

She nodded her approval.

“Hit him again!” Flinch shouted.

Jackson’s metallic mitt reared back for another punch, but this time the Extra caught it in his hand. With an angry wrench, he pulled Jackson off his feet and flung him into the air behind him. The Extra roared with anger, but he was still stuck fast in Gluestick’s paste. He struggled to free himself, straining with all his might.

Just when Flinch was sure the monster was caught tight, the Extra did something no one could have expected. Instead of freeing his foot, he pulled a big chunk of the street underneath him completely out of the ground. Then he did the same with the other foot. He continued his rampage, but each step landed him in more paste, so he was forced to rip more and more chunks of pavement from the road. With each new layer beneath his feet, he grew taller and taller.

Flinch turned to Pufferfish. “OK, as the leader, I am commanding you to take charge.”

“Sorry,” Pufferfish said. “I’m not allowed. Time for Plan B.”

“I didn’t have a Plan A!” Flinch cried, eating another red rope, which didn’t help calm his nerves in the least. “Gaargggggahhhab!”

“Don’t freak out!” Pufferfish said as Gluestick raced to join them. “You can do this. Just keep your team and what they can do in your mind. First, Gluestick is still here. I’m still here. Braceface is probably in the next county, but you still have you, too! Supersticky, superitchy, and superstrong—what can you do with that?”

Flinch stared at his friends, then at the approaching creature. Suddenly, it came to him. “Pufferfish, you’re allergic to getting killed, right?” he asked.

Ruby nodded.

“You can sense it before it happens and get out of the way, right?”

She nodded again, though this time a little hesitantly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Go fight that thing.”

“Really?” Ruby cried.

“Yes. Really.”

Much to Flinch’s surprise, Pufferfish grinned. “I never get to fight!” Then she raced ahead to do as she was told.

“What about me?” Gluestick asked.

“Pufferfish is going to keep the Extra busy, but there’s no reason we should take any chances,” Flinch said. He picked his friend up off the ground and held him above his head with one hand.

“Buddy? What do you have in mind?” Gluestick said.

“Be quiet. I’m aiming for the telephone pole,” Flinch said, and then he tossed his friend high into the air.

Gluestick sailed through the air and latched on to the telephone pole the Extra was still holding like a bat. The creature was too busy trying to crush Ruby to notice Duncan, and as Flinch hoped, his friend took advantage. He sprayed glue into the monster’s eyes. It reared back, and that’s when Flinch leaped into the air. After a massive windup, he punched the Extra in the head. It was a knockout punch, but unfortunately this particular monster had a second head.

“OK,” Flinch said with a sigh as he turned the power up on his harness. “One down, one to go.”

This time, Flinch climbed the Extra’s body, using his giant clothing as handholds, and when he got close enough to the creature’s other chin, he delivered a powerful uppercut, then leaped down and out of the way. That proved to be a big mistake. The Extra didn’t have any fight left in him, but his falling body was still dangerous. With Gluestick on the pole and Pufferfish and Flinch in the Extra’s path, they were all sure to be crushed to death. Flinch closed his eyes and prepared for the worst.

But after several seconds during which he did not feel—or hear the sound of—crushing bones, he opened his eyes and saw the Extra lying flat on his chest, safely wrapped in a bed made entirely out of braces.

A crowd of onlookers clapped as if they were watching a movie shoot. Flinch smiled and waved. He had never had anyone cheer for him. “Should we sign autographs?” he asked the others.

“There he goes, taking all the credit,” Pufferfish grumbled.

“Just like always,” Gluestick snarled.

Flinch turned to face his friends. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve taken the glory for our hard work,” Braceface said. He looked flushed and ill.

“I’m sure you’ll go back to the base and laugh about it,” Gluestick said. “Well, we’ve stood in your shadow for far too long, Flinch. It’s time the real brains of this team were given the credit they deserve!”

Gluestick raised his hands and looked ready to coat him in glue. Jackson transformed his braces into a giant trident. Pufferfish punched her fist into her other hand. There was no place to go.

“You shouldn’t have laughed at me!” Gluestick said.

“He shouldn’t have laughed at me!” Braceface said.

“He was laughing at me first,” Gluestick said. “And when he laughed at me, it was louder and more hurtful. I should get to kill him.”

“No! The Prince of Paste will have his revenge!” Gluestick cried.

“No! Metal Mouth’s vengeance will not wait!”

The boys raged at each other and rushed to attack. Flinch bounded skyward to escape the dual attack, and the two boys accidentally turned their powers on each other. Gluestick coated Braceface with a thick layer of sticky syrup. Jackson was locked in place, but his braces were still active. He transformed them from a trident into a giant boot and kicked Duncan down the street.

“You’ll find that I’m a little harder to take down than those imbeciles,” Pufferfish said. Of all the members of the team, she was probably the least powerful. Her many allergies wouldn’t help her much in a fight. Still, the girl stood confidently with her hands on her hips.

“Pufferfish, you have to listen to me,” Flinch said. “You aren’t acting like yourself and—”

He was hoping for an argument, but he got something far more painful instead. Pufferfish took a running start, leaped into the air, and kicked him in the chest. He fell backward, stunned.

“You have all underestimated me,” she said, standing over him. “You think I have the weakest upgrades, but you have no idea what I’m capable of!”

“You’re sick, Pufferfish,” Flinch said as he crawled to his feet. “I won’t fight you.”

“Then you will make it very easy for me to take you down,” she said, throwing three fast punches in a row. Flinch was ready for them, and deflected each one. Undeterred, his teammate followed her assault with several kicks. None of them connected because of Flinch’s speed, but he could feel their force. Pufferfish wanted to hurt him.

“You think I don’t know you’re laughing at me?” Pufferfish said. “When Brand gave you this mission, he chuckled. I heard him. He wanted to embarrass me and put me in my place. He’s intimidated by how smart I am. All of you are!” She attacked with three karate chops followed by a roundhouse kick that, if it had connected, would certainly have taken Flinch’s head off his shoulders.

“Look at you!” she continued. “You’re bewildered. You have no idea what to do. You’re not leadership material. You’re the team freak. The joke. You’re the comic relief, pal. You’re only on the team because Brand has no idea what else to do with you!”

Flinch tried not to listen, but the words hurt. He was the freak. He knew that. But was he a joke? Brand had never put him in charge until recently, and he probably wouldn’t have done it this time if the others weren’t vulnerable to the virus.

Pufferfish kicked him in the face several times, then in the knee, knocking him down. The pain was searing, like he had hopped into a frying pan. He wasn’t sure he could stand, let alone get away.

“Oh, did I hurt you?” Pufferfish taunted. “I can tell. I’m allergic to the weaknesses of others, which means my upgrades can help me pinpoint exactly where to hit you. Like for instance, your right shoulder still hurts from the fight with Wheezer.”

Pufferfish ground the heel of her boot into his shoulder. It seared with pain.

“And now I can tell you want to get up and run away,” she said, scratching her scalp. “I can feel what you are planning before you do it. There’s nothing you can do that I can’t sense before you try.”

She was right. He scrambled to his feet and tried to punch her, but she deflected it with ease. All of his attacks missed the mark. Pufferfish seemed to know when they were coming as if he had written down all his moves and e-mailed them to her the day before. Her head bobbed and weaved. She ducked away from a kick at just the right time, and while his rib cage was facing her, she socked him with a powerful shot. It nearly knocked the wind out of him.

“Oh, did that sting?”

“I’m fine,” Flinch gasped.

“You’ve forgotten that I’m allergic to liars,” she said, before launching another attack. She connected with his ribs nearly six times before he backed up, hugging his arms to himself and feeling his body’s agony. “You look worried, shaky. I don’t need any superpowers to see that. I suspect one or two more punches might break one of those ribs.”

Flinch was sure she was right, but he could do nothing to stop her. Everything he tried she could see a mile away.

But then it dawned on him. What if he were unpredictable? What if even he wasn’t sure what he might do?

He turned the knob on his harness all the way to its lowest setting, stopping it from regulating the sugar in his body. At Level Zero he was all hyper and all power without any of the pesky control. She may have called him a freak, but she hadn’t seen anything yet.

The next few minutes were a blur to Flinch. He knew there was a lot of jumping and running and bouncing and tossing. His voice may have sounded like a cartoon duck’s. He also remembered the look of dread on Pufferfish’s face when he raced around her like a hyperactive hurricane.

“What are you doing?” she cried over the wind he stirred up.

“I don’t have the faintest idea!” he shouted, zipping around and around her at top speed. The mini-twister lifted the poor girl off the ground, blinded her eyes with trash and dirt, and sucked all the oxygen from her lungs. A moment later she was unconscious. He eased his speed and caught her falling body, then held his ear to her chest. She was breathing.

He pinched his nose. “Boss, they’re all sick,” he said.

“I know, Flinch,” Agent Brand said. “Bring them home.”

The Antagonist was convinced that his first date with his new girlfriend was ruined. First, he burned dinner. Second, he forgot to get flowers. Third, he was attacked by ninjas who fought so hard and long that the pint of ice cream he had brought home for dessert melted in the bag.

But Miss Information didn’t seem to mind. All she wanted to do was cuddle on the couch and watch television. The news was filled with fires, chaos, and mass destruction—all caused by the villain virus. The Antagonist was pretty sure he had met his soul mate. They munched on popcorn and witnessed the sorrow of others, relishing the horrors that threatened every block.

“Look, sweetie pie, there’s a mall in Minneapolis encased in a block of ice,” Miss Information said. “Your plan is working perfectly.”

The Antagonist grinned. “Of course it is. I’m a genius.”

“My honey bun is so diabolical.”

He blushed beneath his mask.

“I have some good news for you,” she continued. “The NERDS are incapacitated.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Honey, I’m not just a pretty face hidden behind a mask with a skull painted on it,” she said. “I know everything.”

“So they are no longer a threat,” he said proudly. “I accomplished something that my boss never could. I knew he should have put me in charge.”

“And now the next part of your plan can begin,” she said.

“Yes,” he said quietly. What was the next part of the plan again?

“Invading their headquarters!”

“Oh, yes, invading the headquarters! We need to do that right away.”

“Imagine the amount of technology you will have access to then,” Miss Information said. “I’ll be—I mean, you will be unstoppable.”

The Antagonist grinned. How lucky this woman was to have a boyfriend as smart as him. Of course, he had no idea where the headquarters was, but he was sure that his brilliant mind would figure it out at any moment. He recalled invading their old headquarters in the depths of an elementary school, but he knew that space had been abandoned. Where could they have gone? His subconscious was probably putting together the details he had unknowingly already collected and would reveal it to him soon.

“They’re at the middle school,” Miss Information told him.

“Like I suspected,” he cried, even though he hadn’t suspected it. But that was just a tiny detail now. “Sometimes, my flower, I think you are as diabolically intelligent as I am.”

“You’re sweet,” she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Now you can crush once and for all the last obstacle between you and world domination. Apparently, there’s only one active agent left and just a handful of adults in supporting roles, and most of them are scientists so they probably have the combined strength of a baby bunny. The director walks with a cane, and there’s a librarian, but what is she going to do? Throw a book at us?”

“The pilot, the one that wears a smock—we have to worry about him,” he said.

“It’s just a matter of time before he’s sick, too, darling,” she purred. “Soon, they will all be overcome with evil and your empire will be unstoppable.”

The Antagonist smiled beneath his mask. The sound of having an unstoppable evil empire and being at the height of his career sounded awfully good. But wait: Wasn’t there something he was supposed to be worried about when he became the most powerful villain in the world? Wasn’t it something she had said to him?

Just then the doorbell rang.

“That must be the Chinese food,” Miss Information said. “I hope they put in extra packets of duck sauce.”

“If they didn’t, I will strap the delivery boy to a rocket and shoot it into space,” he said.

“Darling, you make me feel like a princess,” Miss Information said.

The Antagonist opened the door. There he found a young man holding a sack of food.

“Did you order the chicken lo mein?” the deliveryman asked.

The Antagonist nodded and took the sack. He opened it and took a peek.

“Honey, I’ve got bad news—no duck sauce,” he said.

Miss Information growled. “I’ll go fuel up the rocket.”

The Playground was in disarray. Only fifteen scientists remained from the fifty who had been well that morning. The survivors looked exhausted. Brand guessed they were working around the clock. They were still experimenting on Heathcliff’s nanobytes, and tables had been moved aside to make space for the various ray guns and doomsday devices the team had seized from the villains.

The lunch lady had returned to the Playground in a pair of his own handcuffs. “I feel the fever, boss,” he admitted. “I knew if I waited, I would cause you trouble. Put me in a cell and keep working.”

With his team and the entire world falling apart, Brand could do nothing but stand on the catwalk above Heathcliff’s head and look down at the source of all the world’s misery. He and the sleeping head were all alone. The remaining staff were busy working on a cure. All of the systems that kept the boy unconscious were running automatically, but soon they would run out of sedatives. When the boy woke up … well, things were going to get much, much worse. Brand wondered if General Savage was right. Should they have tried to remove the transmitter from Heathcliff’s brain? Was it right to let the world go down the drain for one person? No, that was a decision he was still not prepared to make. He shoved the thought aside.

Benjamin zipped into the room. “Sir, may I be of some assistance?”

Brand sighed. “Not unless you can save the world.”

“I’m afraid I’m only a superintelligent, flying computer, sir. Not a miracle worker,” Benjamin said. He paused, then continued, “I’ve received word from the school’s administrative office about Julio. Apparently, Agent Flinch is being expelled.”

Twenty minutes later, Agent Brand met Flinch in the hallway outside of Principal Dove’s office. He seemed more agitated than usual.

“So this is really happening?” Flinch said. “I’m not having some sort of mental breakdown? I’m a secret agent and have superpowers, and they’re tossing me out of school!”

“Flinch, please relax,” Brand said.

“Relax?” he cried. “How am I supposed to relax?”

Brand turned the knob on Flinch’s harness, which seemed to calm the boy. “I assure you that you are not going to be expelled,” he said, pinching his nose for the com-link. “Ms. Holiday, this is my fifth attempt to reach you. I need your assistance with the principal.”

Ms. Holiday hadn’t replied to any of his calls. He worried she was sick, but with a limited staff it was also possible that the com-link was down and there was no one to repair it. He hoped it was just a glitch. He didn’t want to think about what he would have to do if she got the virus. What if she attacked him? How could he fight someone he cared so much about?

“We’re going to deal with this,” Brand said as he led the boy to Principal Dove’s office. He knocked and was invited to enter.

Ms. Dove sat behind her desk. Her big, bulky body and huge eyes reminded Brand of a barn owl. A hungry barn owl. He and Flinch probably looked like fat mice.

“What can I help you folks with today?” the principal asked with a beaming smile.

“We’ve come to speak to you about Flin—I mean, Julio,” Agent Brand said.

Ms. Dove sat back in her chair. “About his expulsion.”

Brand nodded.

“I expected his parents to want to discuss this, Mr. Brand. How unusual that the school’s janitor has come to his defense,” the principal said as she peered over her desk at him.

“Julio lives with his grandmother, and at the moment she is quite ill,” he replied. “I’ve known Julio for a long time. I worked at Nathan Hale Elementary before I came here. I’ve always found him to be an incredibly respectful and cheerful young man, so I’ve come to vouch for him.”

“Well, in my experience, children change, Mr. Brand,” the principal said. “The summer between fifth and sixth grade can transform a sweet and helpful little lovebird into a cranky old pelican.”

“I’ve seen that myself,” Brand said. “I’ve had to scrub this school from top to bottom every day because some of these formerly sweet children are tearing this place apart. But Julio is not one of them. In this case I think we have a little less pelican and more a situation of adjustment and growing pains. Sometimes a little birdie needs time to get used to his new nest. Isn’t that right, Ms. Dove?”

Ms. Dove nodded. “That’s true. But I’ve seen a lot of birdies, Mr. Brand. I’m pretty good at picking out the sweet ones from the bullies.”

“Bullies!” Flinch exclaimed.

“I hardly think Julio is a bully,” Brand said.

“Mr. Brand, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I know my birds. I would never presume to tell you about mops and cleaners,” Ms. Dove said with a smile. “I’m afraid my mind is made up. This is Mr. Escala’s last day here at Thomas Knowlton Middle School.”

“You must reconsider,” Brand said. “He’s a good boy.”

Ms. Dove shook her head. “I’ve already put in for a transfer for him, and he’s been accepted at Harris Middle School for Troubled Teens.”

“Harris Middle School!” Flinch shouted. “That’s a last-chance school.”

“A last-chance school?” Brand asked.

“Yeah, it’s the place they send kids who have been kicked out of every other school in town. It has a barbed wire fence and a guard tower. You don’t graduate from there—you get out for good behavior!”

“Mr. Escala, why waste everyone’s time when the inevitable is right in front of our faces? I think we all know how this story ends,” Ms. Dove said.

“Ms. Dove, may I be honest with you?” Brand asked.

Ms. Dove cocked a curious eyebrow. “Please.”

“I went to a boarding school when I was a child and I had a lot of teachers who liked to call themselves disciplinarians. Some of their passion came from a good place—you know, a real desire to help children. But some of it came from a bad place. Some of it was mean-spirited. Sometimes a teacher would single out a kid to make him an example for the others. I suppose they thought if they could make one kid’s life miserable, the others would fall in line and behave.”

“Are you suggesting I’m picking on Mr. Escala?” Ms. Dove said, her smile suddenly turning into a frown.

“Well, Ms. Dove, you may know birds, but I know people. I know a bully when I see one.”

“You have quite an imagination,” she grumbled. She reached into her desk and pulled out some forms and signed them quickly.

“There. That’s settled,” she told Flinch. “You are no longer a student at this school. I wish you the best with your future endeavors and please empty out your locker before you leave at the end of the day.”

“Julio, come along,” Mr. Brand said as he rose from his chair.

“But I’m a good kid!”

“Come along,” Brand said. “This woman is a fool. This isn’t over, but we’re through here today.”

Flinch followed him out the door and into the hallway.

“That wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for,” Flinch said. “Oh, man. I’m going to Harris! The school uniform is an orange jumpsuit with your number printed on the front!”

“Julio, I know this looks bleak, but I have considerable power with the government. I can fix this. If Ms. Dove cannot compromise, then I will have her transferred to another school. Why, I might even have her deported just to teach her a—”

Just then, the door to Ms. Dove’s office door exploded, sending wood and metal shrapnel in every direction. The blast knocked Brand and Flinch to the floor.

“What was that?” Flinch asked.

From the office emerged a figure dressed in an enormous white bird suit. It had legs as orange as a chicken’s and a plume of bright red feathers on its head. It was Ms. Dove, and she was wearing one of the most ridiculous costumes Brand had ever seen. He might have laughed if not for the murderous look on the woman’s face.

“Are you out here in this hallway plotting to take me down?” she cried. “Do you fools really believe that the likes of you could do it?”

“Ms. Dove, what on earth!” Brand said.

“Don’t call me that! From now on you will bow to your knees and address me as Colonel Cuckoo!” She shook her tail feathers and flapped her arms aggressively, sending a shower of loose feathers to the floor.

“Those who choose to challenge me will face my wrath!” she crowed, then scratched at the floor with her feet. She let out a vicious squawk and rolled a white egg across the room.

It stopped at Flinch’s feet. Flinch started to laugh at it, but then three little panels on the shell slid open and steam seeped into the air. The egg began to beep faster and faster. A bomb!

Brand grabbed Flinch and dragged him around the corner just as the egg exploded, sending chunks of the wall tumbling to the floor where they had stood.

“Flinch, we need to split up. Try to lure her out of the school,” Brand said. “Those egg bombs could hurt the rest of the students.”

“I’m on it, boss,” Flinch said, turning and running down the hallway.

Ms. Dove stalked close behind, flapping her wings and tossing egg bombs. Explosions rocked the school.

Brand hobbled into a bathroom and shut the door. He was about to call for Benjamin when he spotted four boys huddled in the corner with screwdrivers, removing the plumbing from the sinks and toilets.

They looked at him.

He looked at them.

And then he exploded. “It’s you!” he cried. “You’re the kids who are making my job impossible.”

“Busted,” the redhead said with a laugh.

“Now, before you get all bent out of shape,” the short one said. “We’re just expressing our artistic freedom.”

There was another explosion in the hallway and the light fixtures in the bathroom rattled.

“What was that?”

Brand ignored the boys and pinched his nose. “Benjamin, are you there?”

Benjamin’s voice was on the other end. “Yes, sir.”

“We’ve got a problem topside. The principal is infected and is roaming the hallways in a chicken suit. She’s throwing egg bombs at everyone.”

One of the boys, who had an annoying whistle in his voice, shouted, “We’ve got to see this!”

“NO! Stay where you are!” Brand commanded, then turned his attention back to Benjamin. “We need to evacuate the students, but we need to make sure they aren’t running into the hallways when she’s out there.”

“Sensors indicate that Flinch has led her into the gymnasium,” Benjamin said. “This would seem to be the opportune time.”

“Do it,” Brand ordered.

A second later, the fire alarms blared and Brand could hear the children exiting their classes and heading for the emergency doors.

“Who are you talking to?” one of the kids asked. “Are you crazy? A lot of janitors are—I’m not judging.”

“Listen, you kids should go with the others,” Brand said, but the boys shook their heads.

“No way, man,” the red-haired one said. “This is the most exciting thing that has happened to us, like, ever. We’re staying!”

Brand groaned. “Who are you kids?”

The chubby one grinned. “We’re juvenile delinquents.”

Moments later, Flinch’s voice filled Brand’s head. “Hey, boss, she’s chasing me all over. I’ve got her in the library now, but she’s tossing explosives everywhere. She completely destroyed the nonfiction section. I don’t think anyone’s going to be doing a report on beluga whales this year.”

“Keep her busy, son,” Brand replied.

Ms. Holiday’s voice suddenly came online. “Alexander, what can I do to help?”

“Thank heavens you’re safe. I thought something had happened to you!”

“Alive and well, but it’s nice to know you were worried. Sorry, I know I’m not supposed to say anything like that on the com-link.”

Brand grinned. “I’ll let it go this time. I’ve got four students up here and a lunatic throwing bombs everywhere.”

“I know. We’re tracking your signal. You need to get to the Playground.”

“What about the other students? Are they safe?”

“The building has been evacuated, sir,” Benjamin said as another explosion rocked Brand’s eardrums. “Would you like to activate Protocol 49?”

“What is Protocol 49?”

“As acting director, you have the ability to force a complete lockdown of the school and control all the hidden systems within the building,” Benjamin explained.

Brand grinned. “There are hidden systems? Like what?”

“Laser cannons, sleeping gas, complete visual control—”

“Activate Protocol 49 and lock down the school!” Brand shouted.

Suddenly, a screaming siren filled the air. Flashing red lights popped out of the walls and steel panels slid down from the ceiling to cover the bathroom’s windows.

“If you want to play with all the toys, you need to be in the Playground,” Ms. Holiday said. “Bring the kids with you.”

“We’re on our way,” Brand said, just before another explosion.

He opened the bathroom door and peeked into the hallway, gesturing for the delinquents to follow him.

As they turned a corner, they saw Ms. Dove at the end of the hall, pounding on a classroom door. Brand hurried the boys in another direction.

“Was that the principal?” one of the delinquents asked.

Brand shushed him. At Locker 41 they stopped, and Brand turned to look at the small band of people depending on him. “I guess we’re going to have to redefine what the word ‘classified’ means around here. Get in.”

“Huh?” the short one asked.

“It’s the secret entrance to a spy headquarters buried far below the school. Watch.” He snatched the short boy by the arm and pushed him into the locker. Before the kid could protest, Brand slammed the door and waited a few seconds. When he opened it, the boy was gone.

“Best. Day. Ever,” the three remaining troublemakers said, fighting to be next.

One by one they entered the locker and vanished until Brand was alone. Just as he was about to squeeze himself inside, Ms. Dove stomped around the corner. Brand quelled his panic. Where was Flinch?

“There’s my plover,” she said. “You’re supposed to be the bird that cleans up messes, but here you are, making one.”

“Lady, you’ve taken this whole bird thing way too far,” Brand said.

“Maybe you’re right, Janitor Brand, but there’s one thing you should never be confused about,” Ms. Dove said as she removed another one of her egg bombs from within her costume. “This is my nest.”

Brand forced himself into the locker as the little egg began to hiss. He slammed the door shut, and as he fell, he heard an explosion. He hoped the woman hadn’t destroyed the entrance to the Playground. He also hoped she couldn’t squeeze into the locker in that ridiculous costume. As he was whisked through the tubes, he accessed the com-link.

“Flinch! Are you OK, son?”

“I’m fine, boss,” Flinch said.

“I’m en route to the Playground now, along with a group of troublemakers I found trashing the bathroom.”

“Oh, you’ve met my friends,” Flinch said. “Listen, the bombs are screwing with the electronics in my harness so it’s going to take me a while to stop Colonel Cuckoo.”

“I think I can help,” Brand said as he floated down into the headquarters. Ms. Holiday and Dr. Kim were waiting with the boys and Benjamin. “All right, Benjamin, show me what to do.”

“You’re the boss,” Benjamin said.

A seat rose up out of the floor and Brand slid into it. Once he was comfortable, a touch-screen panel descended from the ceiling. He could see he had access to everything in the school: lights, water, power, even the air-conditioning. He also had access to a number of things he was surprised to know were buried in the walls, including an intercom system. He pushed that button first.

“Ms. Dove, this is Mr. Brand,” he said as an image of the principal in her chicken suit appeared on-screen. She was stalking Flinch through the hallway, leaving a trail of feathers behind her.