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“Looks like you’re not supposed to go over the wall.” He scooped the root into his arms and headed for the window. “I’ll go through.”

“Are you INSANE?!” Suzy hissed. “You don’t remember?!” She held up her forearm, which was marked with half-a-dozen sets of teeth marks.

Jeff cut her off. “Look, they were all upstairs, and they’re probably all busy eating the tree man now. And there’s no time for arguing. We need to put this somewhere safe. Do you have another idea?” He gave her a long, demanding stare, then went to the window.

“Just… be safe,” Suzy said, and he felt her hand on his shoulder. He wished he were as confident as he was acting. He nodded, took a deep breath, and climbed through the window.

It was very dark and very quiet. The only light came from the moonlit window at his back. Suzy passed him the root. He turned back to the black room. And ran.

Through the blackness of the entry room and into the kitchen, stumbling and blind around the corner, groping for the back door. There was rustling in the corner there, and his heart pounded wildly as he fumbled with burned and bloated fingers on the latch. And then he was throwing the door open and exploding out into the moonlight of the backyard.

He bent and put his hands on his knees, panting. After a minute, he straightened, shaking his head, and walked to the car. There was a foot of space between the car door and the wall of the stable, just enough to slip in the root. He pulled the handle.

“Dang! It’s locked!”

“What’s locked?” Suzy’s whisper-yell came from over the wall. “Wait, were you going to put it in Mom’s car? That was your hiding place? Seriously?”

Jeff rolled his eyes. She was just being crabby; this was a perfect spot.

“Never mind,” he said, “I’ll just, uh, put it underneath or something.”

“There’s a lock box!” Suzy exclaimed, sounding pleased in spite of herself. “In the wheel well.”

Jeff pumped his fist. He had forgotten about that. Their dad drove very little, so he never carried keys. But occasionally he would need the car, and then he’d bike to their mom’s work to pick it up. Thus the lockbox.

Jeff felt around, had a brief moment of dismay that it was gone, and then found it. Unlock, drop in root, lock. He looked back at the house. Back at the pitch black house full of carnivorous stinging lizards.

“Suzy,” he called, staring at the dark doorway. “Maybe I’ll just sleep here in the backyard tonight.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she hissed. “Hurry up!”

Jeff sighed and walked back to stand in the black doorway. He shook his head again. And ran.

THIRTY EIGHT

“Honey, we have to try it NOW,” Lori said. “You’ve seen how angry and scared they are. If they weren’t still busy trying to catch that dragon, they would have already attacked the castle.”

Jeremiah nodded reluctantly. He wished they had more of a plan.

All this time, the President had held off on attacking the castle, trying to make friends with the aliens and get the kids back. But he wouldn’t wait forever. That dragon had wreaked absolute havoc in Atlanta, starting a dozen fires before burrowing into the side of the Bank of America tower and making its nest there. Not all of the workers from that building had been accounted for, and people were saying the dragon may have eaten them.

“All right.” Jeremiah said. “Should I go make the hot chocolate?”

“I already did. And I gave it to all of them, and they all drank it,” Lori finished a bit sheepishly, but then hurried on, “You were gone!”

She tossed him the backpack from the closet, then the clothes she had sewn. Jeremiah put on the shorts and the wrap-around shirt; then he pulled on the furry orange jumpsuit. He looked in the mirror, and in spite of the gravity of the moment, he had to laugh.

Lori glanced over and gave him a strained smile. “I think you look very handsome.”

“I look like an orangutan,” Jeremiah said.

“A very handsome orangutan.”

Jeremiah shook his head, still smiling. “We’ll have to get these out again for Halloween. Jeff will love ‘em.”

Lori finished putting on her jumpsuit, another orangutan – albeit a pretty one. “Ready?” She asked.

In the kitchen, two scientists were slumped over in their seats. A soldier was snoring at the kitchen table. Jeremiah checked the back door where another scientist was sleeping on the steps.

He ran to the garage for the orange rope and met Lori in the backyard. Together, they contemplated the alien spider snuffling through their bushes for bugs. Jeremiah squared his shoulders and walked up to it. “You get the gate,” he whispered over his shoulder.

He eased a hand onto the thing’s back, ready to jump up, but the spider lowered itself to the ground at his touch. “You’re a good little monster, aren’t you?” he said, climbing on. He took a deep breath, then, cringing, laid down flat, his face buried in the fur.

“What do you think?” he called.

“You look okay, but two of us will be too obvious.”

Jeremiah sighed and sat up. This was what they had feared, and the reason he had brought the rope. “All right, come help tie me.”

It took them several minutes – several LONG minutes – glancing over constantly at the scientist sleeping on the steps. But at last he was lashed loosely to the spider’s back. Then, slowly and carefully, he scooted to the side, letting the ropes slide and adjust as he shifted over, then down toward the belly.

As he was sliding from side to belly, the spider stirred for the first time. It made an angry snorting sound, and suddenly Jeremiah felt himself lifted MUCH higher. It must have stood to its

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