Attack of the BULLIES Page 13

  Brand shook his head. “I already told you I wouldn’t go back,” he grumbled.

  “OK, well, don’t say I didn’t try to be nice,” Ruby said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small aerosol can, aimed it at his face, and sprayed. A white mist filled his nose and mouth.

  “What is this?” But he knew what it was. He’d seen it in the Playground. It was going to make him sleepy. Very, very sleepy.

  Duncan shoved the handkerchief into his mouth, and the principal tied his hands. A moment later the costumed head of a cartoon rat plunged him into darkness.

  People in the diner were staring.

  “What? You’ve never seen a woman in a skull mask eating a slice of pie before?” Miss Information asked.

  They turned their eyes back to their meals, though they shot nervous glances at her from time to time.

  “I don’t think it’s you,” Snot Rocket whispered. “I think it’s your boyfriend.”

  Miss Information cuddled up to the scarecrow. “Ah, 1995,” she said. “So quaint. Don’t you just love the clothes and the hair, Alex? Everyone is so unkempt.”

  “When are we going to get to work?” Funk asked. The boy had refused to order anything and sat with his arms crossed.

  “Sweetie pie, you are working,” she said. “We’ve already checked off one of our targets.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Funk said, steamed. “We harassed some Mexican guy and hopped around on that time machine, and all we have to show for it is a bunch of upset stomachs.”

  Thor still looked a little pale.

  Miss Information pointed her fork at Funk’s face. “That Mexican guy was the grandfather of one of our enemies. His son and daughter-in-law had two children, and one of them happened to be the hyperactive strong boy who kicked your butts at the White House. Well, guess what? He was never born—at least not in the United States. He’s not in D.C., he doesn’t have superstrength, and he didn’t beat you up yesterday. We literally bullied him out of existence. You’re giving the future an atomic wedgie it’ll never forget!”

  The BULLIES cheered—all except for Tessa.

  Miss Information watched her closely. When Tessa noticed, she smiled weakly.

  “So, what are we doing in 1995?” Tammy asked.

  “We’re here to interrupt a first date,” she said.

  Benjy floated out of the paper bag that was lying on the table.

  Diners rose from their seats and made a beeline for the exit.

  “Aiah Dewey met her husband, the father of one Duncan Dewey, on this day in this diner … And here she comes now,” Miss Information said as bells jingled on the front door.

  In walked Aiah, a beautiful seventeen-year-old. She and her gaggle of friends giggled and chatted until they saw Miss Information’s mask, the floating ball, and the scarecrow. Their laughter stopped, and they tentatively took a booth in the back of the restaurant, as far from the motley crew as possible.

  “Tessa, you’re up,” she said. “Our Romeo should be along any minute.”

  Tessa nodded and went to work on her face. A few twists here, a few turns there, and soon she was the mirror image of Aiah Dewey. Even her hair was identical.

  There was another jingle at the door and a tall, handsome teenager walked into the diner. He wore a white T-shirt and jeans covered in grease smears.

  “Hey, Avery,” a waitress said. “How’s the car?”

  “You’ve got a busted water pump, Rose,” he replied.

  The waitress frowned. “How much is that going to cost?”

  Avery smiled. “Next to nothing. I pulled one out of a junker at the dump. It’s like new. You’ll be able to drive it home tonight.”

  Rose’s face lit up. “Avery, you’re the best. How much do I owe you?”

  “One chocolate milk shake and we’ll call it even,” he said.

  “All right, Tessa,” Miss Information muttered. “You need to do something before he sees the real Aiah.”

  “He seems like a nice guy,” Tessa said. “We’re wrecking his life.”

  “A guy like that will find someone else,” Miss Information said. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you? If you want your dad to go to prison, we can just go back. It’s really up to you.”

  Tessa nodded and got out of the booth.

  Miss Information watched her walk over to Avery. She flashed him a smile and he flashed one back.

  “Here you go, Avery,” the waitress said, handing him a large glass filled to the top with chocolaty goodness, whipped cream, and a cherry on top.

  “Thanks, Rose,” he said.

  “No, thank you,” Rose said before moving away to pour coffee for a customer at the counter.

  “So … I hear you fix things,” Tessa said.

  Avery nodded.

  Tessa took the milk shake from his hand and poured it on his head. It dribbled down his face and all over his clothes.

  “Well, fix this,” Tessa said.

  Avery sputtered and grabbed a handful of napkins from a dispenser. He wiped the drink out of his eyes. “Are you crazy?”

  “Yes, I’m crazy. You should stay away from me, Avery,” Tessa said, then she turned toward the team. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Funk’s face grew big and toothy. “That was epic.”

  Miss Information grinned and got to her feet. “All right, team! That’s two down, three to go. Who’s next, Benjy?”

  The little ball clicked and buzzed. “According to bank statements, Ben Choi, father of Matilda ‘Wheezer’ Choi, purchased a ticket to South Korea for a flight leaving at 2:35 P.M. on September 14, 1990. It is on this trip that he met his future wife, Matilda’s mother.”

  “Unless, of course, some kind of trouble occurs at the airport,” Miss Information said.

  TOP SECRET DOSSIER

  CODE NAME: THIRD DEGREE

  REAL NAME: AMOS “JUNIOR” CASTO

  YEARS ACTIVE: 2001–07

  CURRENT OCCUPATION: CEO OF HAWAIIAN TROPIC SUNTAN LOTION CORP

  HISTORY: AMOS’S PALE SKIN WAS

  HIGHLY SUSCEPTIBLE TO SUNBURN.

  FIVE MINUTES OUTSIDE WITHOUT

  APPLYING AN INCH-THICK LAYER

  OF SUNSCREEN AND HE WOULD TURN

  INTO A FLAMING-HOT TOMATO. SOME

  STUDIES SHOWED THAT STANDING

  NEXT TO THE BOY WAS ENOUGH

  FOR A PERSON TO CONTRACT A

  VICIOUS RED BURN. MOST OF THE

  SKIN DAMAGE OCCURRED ON THE

  LOWER HALVES OF HIS ARMS AND

  LEGS AND ON HIS NECK, DUE TO

  THE SHORT-SLEEVED SHIRTS

  AND CUTOFF JEANS HE WORE

  EVERY DAY.

  UPGRADE: THIRD DEGREE’S BURNS

  WERE ENHANCED SO THAT THEY

  GENERATED HEAT, ALLOWING HIM

  TO START RAGING BONFIRES

  WHENEVER NEEDED.

  The NERDS and the principal dragged Agent Brand into Marty Mozzarella’s, which was mercifully deserted for the night. Brand still wore the big mouse head and was groaning indignantly.

  The principal waved the children a safe distance away. “He’s angry. I’m going to take the head off and then the gag, so be careful of his teeth.”

  Brand blinked hard against the restaurant’s harsh fluorescent lighting. As soon as the gag came out, so did a tirade of potty language not appropriate for print. Ruby waited patiently for him to stop, but there seemed to be no end in sight. When he didn’t calm down, she took the gag from the principal and stuffed it back into Brand’s mouth.

  “Sorry, boss, but we have to act fast. Here’s what’s happening. Ms. Holiday has built a playground just like ours.”

  “Identical,” Matilda said.

  “She’s assembled a team of kids just like us,” Ruby said.

  “They even have upgrades,” Jackson said.

  “They call themselves the BULLIES,” Duncan said.

  “Her science team created a time machine,” Ruby said. �
�She’s already erased one of our members, a kid named Flinch, who you won’t remember because he never existed, and now she’s probably going after the four of us.”

  “You mean three,” the principal said.

  “Huh?”

  “There’s only three of you on the team, unless you’re counting Heathcliff, but he’s just helping.”

  Ruby looked around at her friends. “Where’s Duncan?”

  “Who?” Matilda asked.

  “Duncan Dewey! Agent Gluestick!”

  The others gave her the increasingly familiar You’re going crazy look.

  “Aaargh!” Ruby shouted, then turned her attention back to Brand. “Your girlfriend just erased Duncan Dewey! I know you don’t remember him, but he was a really nice guy.”

  Brand moaned something unintelligible through his gag.

  “Shush!” Ruby snapped. “I know you want to sit up at your stupid cabin and scare away the wildlife with your oboe, but you might be able to reach whatever is left of Ms. Holiday, so you’re helping whether you want to or not.”

  Ruby looked to the principal.

  He nodded. “Yeah, what she said.”

  Ruby removed the handkerchief from Brand’s mouth. The former spy took a long, frustrated breath. “Well, I guess that’s settled.”

  Ruby smiled.

  “Heathcliff, you’re on!” the principal shouted.

  Heathcliff raced into the room, arms filled with papers and a calculator. He came to a screeching halt in front of Mr. Brand. He peered into the former spy’s shaggy face.

  “What happened to him?”

  Brand growled and Heathcliff jumped back.

  “Where are we with our time machine?” the principal asked as he untied Brand’s hands.

  “Well, first of all, whoever designed Ms. Holiday’s time machine was a real knucklehead. I mean, it’s genius, but every time she turns it on, it threatens to destroy the universe. It’s obvious that it’s based on the Decoyer Loop Universe theory, which is like so last year, but—”

  “Can you turn the science down to one and the English up to ten?” Jackson asked.

  “Yeah, sorry,” Heathcliff said. “Basically, her time machine rips a huge hole in space-time, which could have some nasty side effects. Black holes. Supernovas. Plus, it’s a dirty technology and bad for the environment. I threw out her entire design and started over with a pet theory of mine. I have always believed there are tiny tears in the space-time continuum—little dimples, if you can imagine. Turns out I’m right. They’re all over the place, and we can stretch one so it’s big enough to travel through. It’s much safer, and we don’t need a huge machine.”

  “So how do we find one of these holes?” Matilda asked.

  “Already done,” Heathcliff said. “There’s one right here in this restaurant.”

  He gestured to the multicolored ball pit at the center of the room. A tangle of tubes connected a huge pulsating engine to the pit. “I’ve attached it to a low-grade nuclear power source. I’m charging the battery cells now. It should be ready soon.”

  “OK, I know I’m the C-minus member of this team, but even with a time machine, how are we going to find her?” Jackson asked. “Miss Information and her toad squad could have gone anywhere. Or ‘anywhen.’”

  “She allowed herself to be photographed during her trip to August 16, 1987. Something she and her team did there erased … what was his name again?”

  “Flinch,” Ruby said.

  “Yes, Flinch. All we have to do is go back to that day and stop her plan and we get Flinch and Gluestick back in one shot,” Heathcliff explained.

  “I can’t do this,” Brand said.

  Ruby turned to him, fully prepared to unleash every ounce of her anger and frustration. His broken heart was not going to get in the way of her being born. She’d put him back in the mouse suit if he wouldn’t cooperate.

  “… unless you let me shave,” Brand continued. “If I’m going to stop my ex from ruining the world, I want to look hot.”

  While the remnants of her team waited for the time machine to boot up, Ruby sat at an arcade game and searched police records for news of her disappearance from home. What she found was worse than she’d imagined. Her mother and father had appeared on the nightly news, Grandpa Saul had done an interview with the Washington Post, and her cousins had built a Find Ruby Peet website. Her disappearance had gone viral, and hundreds of people were searching all over Arlington for her. She couldn’t stand knowing the suffering she was putting her family through. She felt like crying, remembering the last conversation she had with her mom and dad.

  But then she found a newspaper article with a photograph of her house. Parked on the street was a familiar black car and behind the steering wheel was the same Secret Service agent who had taken her to see the president. The principal was right. They were watching her house, probably tapping the phones, and waiting to pounce if they got so much as a hint that Ruby was reaching out.

  At that moment, she would’ve been happy to open up any drawer her nieces and nephews wanted to explore. She would let them tear apart her socks and ignore her TV remote instructions and build forts in her bedroom with filthy bricks. She wanted nothing more than to watch her big, loud, obnoxious family turn the house into a complete and total mess. Especially now, when there was a good chance she could be wiped out of existence at any moment. Then they wouldn’t be searching far and wide for her—they’d forget her completely. Somehow that was even worse.

  “We’re ready,” Heathcliff said, approaching her cautiously.

  “Brand?”

  “He just finished. I wonder if I had forty minutes with a barber, manicurist, and a tailor if I would look that handsome.”

  “It’s really hard for you. Isn’t it?” she asked him.

  “What?”

  “Not having a family,” she said.

  Heathcliff’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded. “Sometimes I feel like I’m a boat on the ocean and I can’t find land no matter which direction I sail.”

  Ruby looked back at an image of her family’s worried faces on the news. She didn’t know what kind of life she might have in the future, but if she could fix all her problems, she’d never complain about a crowded house again.

  The team gathered at the ball pit. Ruby’s glands ached, and she looked around warily. “Where’s Matilda?” Ruby asked.

  Jackson, Heathcliff, the principal, and Brand just stared at her.

  “Not another one!” Ruby exclaimed. “We have to do this fast. Let’s move!”

  Heathcliff adjusted some dials and checked a pressure valve. “One of us has to stay here and keep an eye on this machine. It needs a lot of power, some of which I’m pulling off the local grid. If the lights go out, our connection will be cut and we could be lost in time permanently.”

  “And who is that going to be?” the principal said.

  Everyone looked at Heathcliff.

  “Me? No way!”

  “Heathcliff!” Ruby cried.

  “My life is at risk, too, right? If anyone should stay, it’s one of the grown-ups. She’s after team members, not staff!”

  “Hodges, I need the most capable people on this mission,” the principal said. “Ruby and Jackson have upgrades. Brand is a trained secret agent. I was a Golden Gloves winner growing up in New Jersey.”

  “And my argument is that you should stay and watch the machine,” Heathcliff said.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Of all the people associated with this team, Miss Information has the least grudge against you. If she even bothers to prevent your birth, she’s going to do it last.”

  The principal growled. “Aargh! He’s right. Brand, I hate this job. I need to crush some skulls! I can’t remember the last time I gave someone a concussion! Once this is over, I’m resigning. I’ll go back to the kitchen. I miss my spatula!”

  Brand looked at Heathcliff. “Looks like you’re along for the ride, kid. How does this machine work?”
>
  Heathcliff beamed. “All you have to do is jump in.”

  Brand eyed the multicolored balls. “Of course,” he groaned.

  Using his cane, he crawled into the center of the balls.

  “Get down in there,” Heathcliff said.

  “Is there no end to my humiliation?” Brand fell onto his back and let the balls swallow him.

  “Looks like it works,” Jackson said.

  “I was a little worried he’d be sucked into a miniature black hole. If so, his entire body would have been crushed by an intense gravity. And we’d have had to watch the whole thing,” Heathcliff confessed.

  “Get going while you still can, Heathcliff,” Ruby ordered.

  Heathcliff snatched his backpack and leaped into the pit. A moment later he was gone, too.

  Ruby’s head suddenly felt as if someone had hooked a bicycle pump to it and was filling it full of air. “All right, Jackson. You’re up.”

  “Who?” the principal asked.

  Ruby whipped around, looking for her teammate and his amazing braces, but he was gone. If she didn’t want to be next, she had to act fast. She dove under the balls and suddenly felt as if she were sinking into a huge Jell-O mold. There was a shimmering feeling to the air and a coppery taste in her mouth like she was sucking on a penny, and then—BAM!—she was gone.

  The trip felt a little like the times she had dropped into the Playground from her school locker. But this tube seemed to be made of light and stars that branched off like the veins in a human body. The tunnels led to endless possibilities; one might take her to the dawn of man, another to Earth’s final days. There were millions of destinations. She hoped she’d stay on course. Things would go from bad to worse if she landed in the time of dinosaurs.

  Suddenly, she hit something. It was hard and cold and smelled a lot like pizza. She pulled her head out of the balls. Brand and Heathcliff were waiting by the side of the pit, but the restaurant looked exactly as it did a moment ago.

  “It didn’t work,” she said. “It was supposed to take us to the street that Miss Information and the BULLIES arrived on in 1987.”

  “No, it worked,” Brand said. He pointed to a table full of kids happily munching on pizza. They wore faded bell-bottom jeans and platform shoes. They looked like extras from a TV show her dad loved called The Brady Bunch. At one table, the kids wore tie-dyed T-shirts and pants covered in rhinestones. She’d seen clothes like these in her grandmother’s closet. Oddly enough, the restaurant looked exactly the same as it did in her time, except the video games had been replaced by pinball machines.