Bug Girl Page 10

  “You like my pets?” the nasty man croaked, displaying more of his yuckmouth.

  Amanda cringed at the sight of his teeth. From behind purple lips, a row of yellowed and blackened nubs revealed themselves, resembling a particularly nasty blue cheese. She shivered in disgust.

  “Call them off,” she commanded. “Your … whatever-they-ares have wrecked Oyster Cove and are scaring law-abiding citizens. You’ve got to stop this. Now!”

  “Did you hear that?” the little man said, mumbling in the general direction of his shoulder. “She wants me to call you all off.” He punctuated his last word with a wave of his hand, and the beasts hovered ever closer.

  The underground lair smelled sulfuric and was making Amanda feel clammy and claustrophobic, like she’d had way too much egg salad and Easter candy.

  “Could you back off, please?” she asked, irritated. When nothing moved, Amanda cried out, “Get these things away from me right now! Or else I’ll … I’ll…” She wasn’t sure what.

  19

  It was clear these beasts were not going to back down, and Amanda was fed up. She’d had it with these creeps! With a focused burst of energy, she did a remarkable spin-turn and kicked one of the more prickly specimens. Her boot sailed through the green fog unscathed, and the apparition, disappointed that its secret had been revealed, floated off to sulk in a corner.

  “That’s right, pinhead,” Amanda said, cocking an eyebrow. “I know all about your flock of fake fiends.”

  The aged nerd took two steps backward, stunned by Amanda’s brashness. The look on his face said it all. Amanda was the first person to challenge his creatures. Ever. She was supposed to have run away crying.…

  “So, who’d you say you were?” Amanda asked.

  “I am The Exterminator,” the deranged old man answered pompously. He turned around to press a few keys on his computer, and seconds later the hologram monsters vanished. “And you have a surprising amount of backbone … for a little girl.”

  “Exoskeleton,” Amanda corrected him. Some scientist this guy was. It was obvious that the fabulous armor encasing her was not coming from her spinal region or anywhere else inside her.

  The Exterminator sniffed. “Hmph. Well, then, I’ve told you who I am. Now tell me who you are. And how did you get here?”

  Amanda had come for answers, and now this crabby geezer was asking all the questions. She thought it best not to reveal, just yet, that her mother was this guy’s sworn enemy and that she was there on a rescue mission.

  “Come on, then. Out with it. I asked who you are, and what you are doing here, and I want to know now!” the so-called scientist said testily.

  “I’m … Bug Girl,” Amanda answered finally. Why she offered up the name her hateful classmates used to taunt her to this withered bully, Amanda would never know. But it felt right—and good—to own it.

  “I am Bug Girl,” she repeated. “I’m here to stop you!”

  The Exterminator attempted to laugh out loud but got too winded. He clutched the back of his chair and wheezed his amusement instead.

  Amanda scowled. Insensitive chortling rankled her. She glared at the doctor’s hairless, wrinkled pate as he leaned down to type something into his keyboard. He hunched farther, trying to keep her from seeing what was on his screen.

  “Bug Girl,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  “That’s right,” Amanda snapped back, growing more irate. “And you need to listen up. Your monsters are destroying the town and ruining everyone’s evenings, and we are not going to stand for it!”

  “Child,” the aged villain said dismissively, “you’re obviously aware of how ‘harmful’ my monsters are. The people themselves are destroying the town. Panicking, screaming, driving into things. Humans never stop to think. I’m just shocked that you—barely out of training pants—got up the courage to drag yourself here and face them.”

  Training pants? Oh, that was it. Amanda was not going to let this doddering old creep mock her. Bug Girl was not going to be mocked anymore. She’d had enough.

  Moving quickly, Amanda reached out and grasped the top of The Exterminator’s wheeled desk chair. With one arm, she sent the chair flying to the other side of the room with the mad scientist still sitting in it. With her other hand, she picked up the computer keyboard and brought it crashing down on the monitor.

  “Where on earth did you come from?” The Exterminator gasped as he rolled to a stop. He was not expecting such force from a sassy girl in an insect costume. “Surely you’re not from that putrid town. In case you hadn’t figured it out, I hate Oyster Cove. I hate it!”

  “You guessed it, genius,” Amanda snapped. “I am Oyster Cove born, and proud of it.”

  Amanda’s town pride triggered something in The Exterminator. His expression changed from perplexed fear to smug certainty. He teetered toward her with an accusing finger extended, thrusting it back and forth.

  “Oh! You! I know who you are! I should have known the moment you buzzed in here with your sad, shiny, pathetic little exoskeleton. YOU ARE JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER!”

  “Yes I am, turkey, and you’re about to get roasted!” Amanda snapped back.

  “I should have known that goody-two-shoes nitwit would have a child,” he seethed, rubbing his hands together in anger. “ONE of her walking around on the planet was bad enough. But then she had to go and make another goody-goody who’s just as obnoxiously anxious to make sure justice is served, the innocent are protected, and all of that simpleminded folderol.”

  The Exterminator spoke about Dragonfly with such venom that he was practically foaming at the mouth. His hateful babble confirmed beyond any doubt Bug Girl might have had that this was the guy who had kidnapped her mom!

  “Where is she?” Amanda yelled, positioning herself for battle. “Hand her over!”

  “I couldn’t possibly let that menace roam around free any longer, could I? She and her perky, perfect partner—they took everything from me. My hopes and dreams were dashed by uppity girls in tiresome costumes. But I’ll make them pay. You’ll see. I’ll make you ALL pay. This year, Oyster Cove Day will be a celebration like this town has never seen before!”

  So the old cretin was keeping everyone cowering so he could serve up his brand of bitter justice on Oyster Cove Day, when an audience was assured.

  “Your experiments on insects and arachnids were unethical and downright disgusting!” Amanda screeched.

  “Ah, touched a feeler, have I?” The Exterminator asked as he hobbled over to a separate computer station that had not been damaged during Amanda’s power tantrum. Lowering himself into a seat, he sounded overjoyed.

  “I have your mother, all right.” He cackled pompously. “I’ve been keeping her under wraps, so to speak, while I put the finishing touches on my ultimate revenge plan for her, her revolting partner, and this nasty little town of yours.”

  Amanda fidgeted. There was something that didn’t jibe with her research. “If you’re The Exterminator, what’s with the green monsters? Why aren’t you using your armies?”

  “Ah, you’re a clever one, aren’t you? And you’ve done your homework. The hologram monsters are merely a distraction, child. I wanted to draw your mothers out without letting them know exactly whom they were dealing with. If I had unleashed my fabulous mutated insects at the start, those two dullards would have gone into battle prepared, and where’s the fun in that? I surprised them with my genius, and they were overwhelmed by my trap.”

  Amanda groaned aloud. This pinhead was a little too boastful.

  “With Mommy and Company out of commission,” he continued, “I felt certain there were no other obstacles in my path to vengeance. But then”—he swiveled back around to face Amanda and scowled—“you arrived.”

  Amanda gulped. Even though the aged archvillain seated before her looked more like a zombie shuffleboarder than a threatening mad scientist, too much was at stake here for her to mess this up.

  “Listen, loser, do you mind if I ju
st blow up this burrow so we can get on with our lives?” she snapped. The Exterminator swiveled around so his back was to her and made a dismissive motion with his hand. “It’s either that or you can tell me where my mother is, and I can drag you off to the police without further violence.”

  To her surprise, The Exterminator continued to ignore her. He didn’t even seem to hear her. He just sat there, pecking at his gigantic keyboard and saying, “Oh, good, very good,” over and over again.

  “Excuse me,” Amanda prodded. “We were kind of in the middle of something here?”

  “And now,” The Exterminator replied snippily, “we no longer are. You may leave, child. You’ll get nothing from me.”

  Amanda didn’t like The Exterminator’s attitude. Bug Girl would not be dismissed.

  In an instant, she sprang into the air and landed directly in front of the bank of rickety computers. Without conscious knowledge of what she was doing, she released a repetitious percussive noise that increased in frequency until its decibels blew out the computer system. Smoke poured from the old reel-to-reel tape decks that backed up The Exterminator’s information. Monitor glass shattered. Sparks flew from all the hardware in the room. Then everything went black.

  “Tymbals,” Amanda murmured in the darkness. “I’ve got tymbals!” She was overwhelmed and delighted to share the same sound-producing organs that cicadas used to create their summertime hum. And hers were supercharged. It seemed her awesome new tymbals had wiped out the entire computer bank!

  But then one computer hissed and sparked back to life, offering a low glow.

  “Dang,” Amanda mumbled to herself. She squinted through the smoke toward the spot where The Exterminator had been sitting. He was not there.

  A scuffling sound behind her made her whirl. In the clearing haze, she made out a number of dark tunnel entrances she hadn’t noticed before. They branched out of the room in eight directions—The Exterminator could have fled down any one of them!

  CICADA

  Fun Bug Fact: Cicadas have tymbals—sound-producing organs that consist of alternating stiff and flexible membranes and a large sound-amplifying chamber. The cicada’s loud call is produced by using muscles to rapidly move the membranes, which makes a loud clicking sound.

  20

  Before Amanda could jet into action and find the sinister creep, the reactivated computer in front of her started blinking frantically. She heard a finger tapping against a microphone and then a cackle echoed in the cavernous room. “In case you’re still rooting around in my laboratory, Larva Lass, or whatever your vulgar little name is,” a seething voice chuckled over a loudspeaker, “you might want to evacuate. Now that Phase One has been completed, we can’t have you snooping around.”

  Smug jerk, Amanda thought. But before she could say anything smart, the voice continued.

  “Oh, how I’ve suffered at the hands of your mother and her associate. You have no idea what I’ve been through since I escaped that dreadful prison—living in the lowest little rooms, hovering over the notes and books I managed to spirit away before they raided my offices,” The Exterminator wheezed into his microphone. “I’ve had to cobble everything back together from memory and scraps. Years, it’s taken. Long, horrible years in seclusion, working tirelessly for revenge. And I shall have it!”

  Amanda was floored. As she scrambled to figure a way out, The Exterminator kept talking. Apparently all that alone time had made him desperate for an audience, even if it was the daughter of one of his archenemies.

  “This underground pit is, as I speak, filling up with methane,” he said. “The authorities won’t notice the poison, given all the toxic gases lingering in this landfill. That is, if they even bother to come looking for you. In approximately two minutes,” the loudspeaker wheezed, “the air will be too noxious for you to survive in. That should give you just enough time to give your antennae a real workout.” He gurgled oddly. Perhaps it was a laugh.

  “Where’s my mother?” Amanda screamed.

  “Oh, not to worry. Mommy is fine. I wouldn’t dream of hurting her until my plan is complete, child.”

  The Exterminator’s pompous tone was annoying.

  “You see, the time has come for Phase Two, the part where I exact my revenge. Oh, it’s all devilishly clever.… Too bad you won’t be around to see it.”

  The direness of the situation didn’t keep Amanda from groaning.

  “What do I have to do to get my mother back? Do you have, like, demands that need to be met, or are you just going to push people around so you can feel better about yourself?”

  “No. No demands, my puny little pupa,” The Exterminator snipped back. “Just justice.”

  “Justice? I’m so sure,” Amanda spurted. “You don’t even know what that means.”

  “Regardless, Maggot Miss, I plan to take over the world using my delightful army. And there’s not a single thing you can do about it. Oyster Cove’s so-called heroes are out of the picture, and the gas you’re breathing is already ravaging your system. Your little act of defiance actually did me quite the favor. When my plan comes to fruition, it shall do so unhindered.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Amanda said, attempting to sound stronger than she felt.

  “Enough of this useless prattle!” the villain finally snapped. “Only one of these tunnels leads to the surface, and it’s lights-out for you, Bug Girl.”

  The loudspeaker blasting The Exterminator’s voice shut off with a thunk. The last flickering computer blinked out, and Amanda was left in total darkness.

  “Crap,” she blurted, not really sure how she could possibly get out of this. No light penetrated the lab at all. She groped in the gloom for any of the eight tunnel exits. She tripped over wires and computer components.

  And then she remembered—earlier, when she was all fired up and heading into this pit, her abdomen had emitted a faint bioluminescent glow. She might have the capability to light up like a firefly—but for some reason her lumens didn’t seem to be turned on anymore. How could she trigger the process needed to light up the night and get out of this dump before it imploded?

  Amanda racked her brain. She recalled that some lampyrids emitted a constant glow for a few hours a day, and that clearly wasn’t the case with her. She seemed to have traits similar to those of good old North American fireflies. They glowed in two situations: one, to attract a mate, and two, to ward off predators. That first situation was clearly out of the question—ew—but she could definitely use a warning light to keep creeps away. She focused her mind, willing herself to feel predators all around her. I am a firefly, she told herself, pulsing in the night!

  She began to breathe deeply. Oxygen was necessary for the chemical reaction that gave fireflies their signature feature, and she hoped there was enough of it left in the methane-laced air. She felt a tingle and thought she saw a faint hint of light. She breathed faster, filling her lungs, and the light pulsated like a fire being fanned. It was working! But she had to move to get out before the methane sapped her. She also had to be careful not to hyperventilate—passing out could be her final mistake.

  Rushing toward the tunnel entries, she wished she could remember which one she’d used to get into this mess. She couldn’t smell the gas mixing with the stale oxygen of The Exterminator’s lair. But she could feel it. She started to get a bit woozy.

  She peered into each of the tunnels, hoping for a sign to lead her out of this nightmare. And then she smelled it. The rotting stink of Armpit Acres. It permeated her olfactory senses. It made her eyes water and her nose wrinkle. But at the same time, she had never been so happy to be assaulted by the putrid odors of decaying garbage. Her senses would lead the way out of this mess!

  Her antennae squirmed and led her toward the tunnel that was the most fragrant with filth. Up she scrambled through the darkness until she was pulling herself around the broken windshield she’d ducked under and was outside and away from The Exterminator’s chamber of evil.

  In
the distance, Emily jumped up and down and waved, screaming Amanda’s name frantically.

  But Amanda heard nothing. As she stood up, she felt the full impact of the gas she’d been exposed to in the pit. She blinked her eyes a few times. Her vision blurred. She tried to call out but instead collapsed onto the car hood, unconscious.

  FIREFLY

  Fun Bug Fact: The firefly is a beetle, not a fly. It has special cells that create a chemical called luciferin and an enzyme called luciferase. Luciferin combines with oxygen in the air to make a molecule called oxyluciferin, and that reaction is sped up by the luciferase—to create LIGHT!

  21

  A warm light greeted Amanda when she next opened her eyes. Her vision remained fuzzy, but she could make out one of her beloved spiders in a tank beside her. She realized she was in her own bedroom, tucked under layers of blankets. She was still wearing her costume and headband. A humidifier hummed nearby, pumping out thick clouds of eucalyptus-infused steam.

  Amanda strained her eyes to see more. The figure slumped over in the chair by her bed had to be Poppy. He stirred as he realized she was awake. “Back with us, are you?” he asked gently.

  “Poppy, what happened? I remember being in the dump, and now…” Amanda sputtered. Her voice was raspy and her vision refused to clear. She was confused but alive.

  “Your little friend called me. The prim one. Said youwere at the landfill. I thought it was a bunch of poppycock, but then she said I’d better hurry because it didn’t look good. She was right.… When I got there, you were out cold. But you’re up and at ’em now, thank goodness!” Poppy smiled weakly.

  Amanda swallowed. Her throat was sore. Her head pounded. So Emily hadn’t completely deserted her, after all. She wondered briefly if she might even owe her life to Emily. But she didn’t want to think about that too hard. She still felt horrible; she was barely able to move, and her lungs ached. Wait. Everything ached. And her mouth was desert dry.