"The aliens are coming!" I screamed, but the old bags didn't really react. "And they're hungry —hungry enough to eat the decrepit." I strapped on my umbrella-filled backpack.
Most of them slowly made for the doors (or what was left of the doors), but a few stayed put.
"Come on, old dude, get out of here. Run!" I yelled at a particularly crusty grandpa-type, still in his flannel PJs despite the fact it was past noon.
He stared me right in the eye. "I didn't run at the Battle of Kasserine Pass. I'm sure as heck not running now."
"Whatever. But don't say I didn't warn you."
One of the grannies stopped as she passed by and planted a big wet kiss right on his old, wrinkly lips.
"I've still got it." He stood—or really, slowly started the process by which he would eventually stand up.
"Oh, that's gross." It was almost worse than watching Sunny stick her hand down an alien's nostril. At least old people don't smell as bad as interstellar boogers.
Five or six of the retirees hadn't made it in yet. "Stay close to the building," I told them. As if on cue, the saucers dropped into position. "Watch out, they're armed with some sort of ray guns."
"What's the plan?" Sunny asked.
"Ummm, you're the brain. You're supposed to be the one with the plan."
"When you get in the spaceship," Sunny said, "you'll need to leverage the element of surprise."
"When I get in the spaceship?" I tried to keep my eyes from popping out. "Aren’t you coming with me?"
"You're the one who wants to kiss her."
"You aren't planning on getting in one of those whatchamacallits, are you, son?" The ancient army guy was snooping on our conversation.
"I do not want to kiss her," I said to Sunny, ignoring him.
"Oh, you're infiltrating a flying saucer full of human-snarfing aliens because she's your best study buddy?"
"He wants to kiss her," our wrinkled friend said. "He just won't admit it."
"Zack, they aren't going to be expecting a kid to pop on board and liberate everyone." Sunny glanced up as several aliens dropped out of the ships. "You are going to try to save everyone, aren't you?"
When she used the word save, I realized I'd have to at least try to save everyone. I couldn't leave them to be baked into alien casserole. I wasn't planning on it, but, "Yeah, I guess so."
"You mean they've got other kids up there?" the old guy asked.
"A whole playground full," Sunny said.
"Why those feetless, over-stuffed, slime-covered goblins!" He shook his cane at the ships.
"Zack, you can think on your feet. You'll be fine."
"Come on, boy. Let's kick some alien tentacle." The old dude jabbed me in the shoulder with his boney elbow and started advancing faster than I would have thought possible.
"Sunny, get inside," I said running forward.
"Zack, don't forget the toothbrush." I turned as Sunny threw it to me. "You'll need it to—" I couldn't hear the rest.
"I'll need it to what?" I tried to ask, as a shimmering bubble force field engulfed me. I couldn't hear anything except the sound of my own breathing, but Sunny made a back and forth motion with her hand, like she was brushing her teeth. What is it with her and dental care?
As I floated away, I stashed the toothbrush in my pocket and watched helplessly as my geriatric commando friend provided cover for Sunny and a couple of the slower old folks. He had to be pushing a hundred, but he was dodging alien ray gun blasts, got in close, and started beating on the green demons with his cane. It wasn't exactly effective, but it kept them busy until everyone had retreated.
Chapter 10 – Belly of the Beast
The inside of the spaceship was cavernous, but dimly lit. Most of the light came from the outside hatch or the glowing buttons and video displays. Crazy sayings were written on the walls and even had English translations below them, like some sort of alien propaganda: "Humans are tasty. Earthlings don't have feelings. Humans don't love their children as much as we love to eat them." Stuff like that.
Half a dozen aliens were processing bubbles with what appeared to be kids from the high school trapped inside them.
The bubbles were lined up, waiting to go into a machine that looked like a high-tech cattle chute.
Once the aliens loaded a bubble into the contraption, they poked it with what looked like a huge, three-foot-long needle, except that it had wires and cables coming out of the back of it. Inside, there was nowhere to go, so the aliens had an easy time giving the poor kid the shot—which looked pretty freaking painful.
After jabbing the kid, the aliens pushed the bubble into a holding pen covered with a force field that glowed blue, exactly like the containment bubbles. In fact, when a bubble entered the holding pen, it seemed to be adsorbed into the force field as the kid inside popped into the pen.
That was a big problem. If the aliens processed and dumped me in that holding pen without first getting me out of the bubble, then how could I fight?
I took out one of the big umbrellas with a pointed metal tip and tried to pop my bubble. No matter how hard I pushed, it didn't give, even a little. I had to think fast. What else could I do? What else did I have?
The toothbrush.
It sounded crazy, but why else would Sunny have insisted I take it? I didn't have toothpaste, but I put the thing up to my mouth and pressed it on anyway. It kinda hurt my gums, and I almost switched it off before I realized the bubble was shaking. No, more like a vibration, a slight pulsing.
I pointed the brush at the bubble, and the effect amped up. I pressed the brush tip right against it, and the whole thing went POP!
It even made a popping sound, which instantly got the aliens' attention.
"Quick, grab him!" One of the aliens pointed at me.
"I’d better eat him, or else he might panic and get hurt." As Lieutenant Muck-tauk approached, his smile flowered into an open mouth, with teeth just like petals.
I smiled right back and, when he reached for me, shoved a pocket umbrella in his big, fat trap.
Plop. The monster fell to the ground in agony.
"Oh no, it has some sort of advanced weapon," one of the aliens shouted. But not for long because I popped an umbrella in that one's mouth and he went down too.
I picked another target, pried the metal tip between his lips, and pushed the umbrella open once it was far enough in. My arms ached, and I wished that the big umbrellas were automatic too.
"Quick, retreat!" I realized it was Admiral Nact-bauk shouting. Oh, how I longed to umbrella him, but he ran, or sort of slithered, with the rest of the aliens behind a metal door that swooshed shut.
I noticed something out of the corner of my eye: the old soldier who'd provided cover so all the slow grannies could escape. He was bashing on his bubble with his cane, and somehow it almost seemed to be working. The whole thing shuttered violently.
I didn't even have to switch on my toothbrush. His bubble popped as soon as I pointed the brush at it.
"Hogging all the fun for yourself, eh?"
"I didn't see you."
"Well, there'll be enough of them to go around." He glanced at the hatch they'd fled behind. "I imagine they'll regroup and counterattack."
"We’d better get everyone out right away." I pointed to the holding area. That's when I saw her. Crammed in with dozens of other kids—Zoey. She had tears in her eyes, but a smile streaked across her face. She was saying something, but I couldn't hear her because of the force field.
"It's the magnets. It must be," my elderly friend said. "In the toothbrush, they're rare earth magnets. The pump in my heart uses them. I can't get too close to anyone with a pacemaker."
"You mean, people with pacemakers can't use electric toothbrushes?"
"No, they're fine as long as they don't glue it to their chest or anything like that." He checked out the controls next to the holding pen. "But the magnets in my pump are even stronger. I can't get right up close with Mrs. Milvey."
"Oh." I didn't
know what to say. "Sorry to hear that."
"Yes, ours is a forbidden love."
I strained to squeeze that thought out of my mind. "So, ya think we can break them out, or what?"
"We'll have to try your toothbrush." He pressed a bunch of buttons on a control panel screen. "These controls aren't responding. Probably locked out."
I went up to the force field, right where Zoey stood, and took out the brush. She smiled. I didn't even have to turn the toothbrush on to see it had an effect. The force field was big though, covering a pen maybe thirty feet wide and stretching all the way up to the top of the domed ceiling. Even with my toothbrush on and all my weight pressed against it, the force field shook, but didn't give.
"I don't think it's got enough power," I said.
"Hurrmmm," the old dude growled in frustration. He took a whack at it with his cane, and while the force field shook, it didn’t give.
"Wait, get closer."
"Nah, a cane can't penetrate that thing."
"You said you had stronger magnets in your heart pump. And the field shook when you got close to it," I spat out the words, worried the aliens would return any second. "Push right up against it."
He tried, and the force field really shook, but still didn't give way. "Good idea, but it's not enough."
"Wait a sec." I put my toothbrush right next to him, then pushed with all my might. Little by little, the brush sank in.
Slowly, with two hands, I pulled the toothbrush sideways. As I did, an opening began to form. The sounds of kids crying and cheering rushed out.
It was like cutting through steel with a lightsaber. Soon, the hole was large enough for the first kid to pop through. Kids dove out like the final bell had just rung on the last day of school. A minute later, they were all free and just in time. My arm gave out, and the force field snapped back, rippling like a metallic blue pond.
"Zack, you saved me!" Zoey wrapped herself around me like spaghetti on a fork.
"So, you're Zoey," Gramps said, "Heard so much about you."
"You have?"
"Sure." He smiled. "Zack really hoped you'd kiss him once he saved you."
"You did?" She looked at me with wide, hazel-green eyes.
"What? No—" But I had to close my mouth because, open or not, Zoey was coming in. She gave me one of those kisses where you stick it on for like three or four seconds. Not as miserable as I imagined. It wasn't as bad as getting a cavity filled or anything.
"Let's get everyone out of here," I said once I managed to pry Zoey off my face. Her arms still held me tightly. "How are we going to get off the ship?"
"What about the jetpacks? They've gotta be on the ship somewhere?" she said.
"Yeah, but they've locked the hatch that leads to the rest of the ship."
"Try your toothbrush on it," Pops said. "No, wait. Try it on the outside access hatch first."
In the middle of the room, an access hatch sat a couple feet off of the floor of the ship. The doors were see-through, like thick, clear plastic. Buildings rushed by below. I walked over and held onto the railing with one hand, putting the toothbrush against it with the other. It opened a few inches.
All the other kids had stood around, scared and silent, until I cracked that hatch. The smell of wet grass and freedom seemed to revive them. A couple of the high school kids reached down and pulled the doors open the rest of the way.
A violent wind swept into the hold, and we stared down at the earth, hundreds of feet below.
"I'll get the jetpacks," I said. "Everyone stay here."
"Where else would we go?" Zoey asked, giving me that look she was so good at. "Better take a few of these." She pulled a handful of umbrellas out of my backpack. "I'll make sure no one here is seriously hurt."
"I'm going with you, kid. There's liable to be dozens of those slimy squid-beasts." Gramps put an arm around me as if we were going to pose for a family picture.
"Thanks, but you've done enough already."
"No, I'm coming. Those oversized water-trolls ate my great grandson, Toby."
"Toby. Do you mean Toby Bucket?"
"That's him. Did you know him?"
"Yeah, he was in my class." My head sank. "It's my fault he's gone. I tried to save him, but I failed." I felt like crying.
"It's okay. Let me tell you something you learn in war." He kept his arm around me as we walked toward the locked hatch. "You're only responsible for the people you save, not the ones you can't—it's the fellow doing the killing who's responsible for them. Don't blame yourself. You can't save everyone."
"You're right, but it hurts. I'm so sorry." I figured it was best not to tell him the alien who'd eaten Toby was onboard this very ship.
"I know, son, I know." He stopped at the door. "Besides, he was so darn fat, I bet they ate him first."
Chapter 11 – Bucket's Last Stand
Great Grandpa Bucket hung four or five small umbrellas from each of his wrists and stuffed a few extras in his PJ pockets. With the help of my toothbrush, we forced open the door.
A big group of aliens were waiting behind it. I kept thrusting my big, pointed umbrella in their huge fleshy mouths and pried them open just enough to pop in one of the pocket ones.
Aliens flopped around like fish on a deck. They seemed hesitant to use their ray guns, probably afraid of hitting each other in the crossfire.
Once we'd umbrellaed a dozen, one panicked and began firing wildly. One of the shots hit me. It took me a second to draw my toothbrush. The room was huge, and I floated upward.
Mr. Bucket was jamming his cane into an alien’s teeth, umbrella at the ready, but several more were about to pounce on him. They were getting the upper hand.
My sweaty hands dropped the toothbrush. I panicked when I noticed someone else was in the room. I should have known she wouldn't stay put. Zoey ripped an alien off Grandpa, tossed it to the ground, and smacked it in the jaw until she was able to wedge in her umbrella. A trail of umbrellaed aliens lay scattered behind her.
Once she finished off one alien, she'd start on the next, swinging a second umbrella in wide, graceful curves that held the rest at bay. Zoey was a ninja. But instead of swords, she wielded deadly umbrellas. She was so focused on helping Grandpa, she didn't see Admiral Nact-bauk behind her with what looked like a thick cable or maybe a belt.
"Zoey, behind you!" I cried, but I was still in the bubble. She couldn't hear me.
Nact-bauk snuck up and wrenched the cable around her neck.
A second later, my toothbrush did its job, and I came crashing down, right on top of them.
I didn't have time to think as I fell. I aimed my big metal umbrella right at the admiral's head, well aware that if my aim was off, I might skewer Zoey.
I missed his mouth.
But not by much.
The umbrella drove deep into his nostril—so deep, I figured it’d never come out. With the force of the fall, it didn't stop there; my hand slid down the handle and pushed the umbrella almost halfway open.
It wasn't a pretty sight, but I didn't give it a second thought because Zoey was lying on the ground coughing.
"Zoey." I kneeled at her side and took her hands in mine. "Are you okay?"
She stopped coughing and gazed up at me. "I think I need mouth-to-mouth."
"Oh, brother," I said. "Yeah, you’re fine." I dropped her hands.
"You sure know how to ruin a perfect moment."
I stood and, grabbing Zoey's hand, pulled her up.
"That's the last one," Gramps said, as the final alien crumpled to the floor.
We all stood there trying to regain our breath. I couldn't believe Grandpa hadn't collapsed into a big heap of wrinkles.
"This must be the bridge. Maybe we could fly this thing?" I said. But one look at the controls and I knew we'd never figure it out.
"Seems to be on autopilot."
"Where're the jetpacks?" Zoey asked.
"I bet the jetpacks are in there." Gramps pointed to a door with a picture
of some tools and a ray gun on it.
That door was locked too.
"Maybe the whole ship is on lockdown," Grandpa suggested.
We forced it open with my toothbrush.
"Wow," I said as we went inside. It was another huge room with towering ceilings. There was way more space than you'd expect in a spaceship. Along the walls hung an assortment of tools, wires, ray guns, and jetpacks.
"There aren’t enough for everyone." Zoey seemed to be counting the packs in her head.
She was right. There were twenty jetpacks, but we had at least thirty kids.
"We'll have to double up."
We each carried two or three packs back to the main bay.
"Anyone know how to fly them?" someone asked.
Each of the jetpacks had a small controller connected by a thick wire. It reminded me of a Nintendo nunchuk—with a thumb-sized joystick, a trigger, and one glowing red button.
"Someone has to be the first to try it," I said.
One of the older high school guys picked up a really cute girl and, with jetpack strapped on, jumped down the hatch and out of the spaceship.
She screamed, they fell, and a second later, the pack kicked in. The ship flew so fast we didn't see them land, but it looked like they were going to make it.
Tommy Traddles stepped forward. He was so small I hadn't even noticed him. Tommy ripped a jetpack out of my hand. He'd barely put the pack on when he grabbed a high school hottie who was about two feet taller than him and jumped out of the plane screaming, "GERONIMOOoo."
We made a few trips to get the rest of the packs.
On the last trip Zoey said, "I'll stay here to hand out jetpacks." So it was just me and Gramps.
"I think the engine room is through that hatch." He pointed at a door with a picture of some circles and tubes that I thought might be an image of an alien engine.
"Let's just get out of here." I took the last two packs and dropped a smaller ray gun in my backpack, just in case.
"No, this is a huge ship. The rest of the crew is bound to come after us." He had a grim look in his eyes. "We've gotta bring this baby down."
He pulled an umbrella out of his PJs, gave the door a chest bump—which popped it open—and rushed through it. I was barely able to keep up with him.