Fartsunami Read online

  Forty minutes later, we arrived at Kennedy Space Center.

  “See?” said Shane. “Nothing to worry about. We made it!”

  I had seen a million pictures, I had spent hours on Google Maps zooming into the facilities, but I never thought it would look like this. There were very few buildings—it was mostly swamp. But that was okay—this swampy wonderland hid the mysteries of the universe. We passed by launchpads scorched by powerful rockets. We passed by crazy-looking radar equipment. What star system is it observing? I wondered—just one of a billion questions blasting through my brain.

  I stared out of the window with my mouth wide open and moaned, “I. Can’t. WAIT!”

  When we passed the huge tower that used to house the space shuttles, even the jocks stared with bug eyes.

  The buses pulled into the parking lot of the Visitor Complex.

  Mr. Stewart rose out of seat and turned to face us. “Please exit the bus in an orderly fashion and form a line outside,” he announced.

  “It better be a straight line,” grunted Coach Grey. “I don’t want to see any sloppiness out there today.”

  Once off of the bus, Gordon, Ben, and Nabila walked toward us.

  “So,” said Gordon, “are you psyched or what? This must be like Christmas morning for you!”

  “Yeah, what are we going to do first?” asked Ben.

  “Moon rock,” I said without hesitation. “I have to touch me some moon rock!”

  “Are any of the monsters you work with from space?” asked Nabila loudly.

  Lunch Lady squinted her eyes in our direction.

  She walked toward us to investigate, but something stopped her in her tracks!

  The front of the first bus was parked up against a swampy gulley. Something was growling and snapping in the gully. Something monstrous!

  “Aaaaaahhhhhh!” a few of the girls and more than one football player screamed and headed toward the Visitor Complex.

  “No, wait!” yelled Mr. Stewart. “Everyone back on the bus, immediately!”

  “You heard the man,” barked Coach Grey. “Get your keisters back on these buses on the double! NOW!”

  A second monstrous form appeared and began thrashing around with the first. A flock of cranes standing in the gully began to flutter their wings. Suddenly one vanished in an explosion of feathers and water. Then another. These monsters were hungry. And they were coming right at us.

  “I wonder if cranes taste like chicken,” said Shane as he leaned forward to get a better look.

  Ignoring his question, I grabbed Shane’s arm and ran back to the bus. “I knew it!” I yelled. “I knew that the Director would ruin it for us.”

  Kids crammed in front of the bus doors, desperate to get on. A panicked jock pushed a girl out of his way so hard that she fell and rolled toward the gully.

  The water bubbled and a slick, leathery form rose out of the muck to meet her. Now we all leaned forward to get a better look.

  “Get back!” yelled Coach Grey, and he lobbed a fastball at the monster’s head.

  With a splash and a growl, the monster was knocked back.

  Coach scooped up the girl, who moaned, “It has teeeeeth! So many teeth!”

  Once we were back on the bus, we had a better view of the vile creatures.

  “I’m not sure if this was Director Z’s work,” said Shane, pointing out of the window. “Look!”

  Two giant alligators emerged from the gully and crept up into the parking lot. They stopped in front of the buses, warming themselves in the late afternoon sun.

  “Well,” said Mr. Stewart, “it looks like we got a little Biology instead of Astronomy today. You’re looking at two North American alligators, which are common to this area of Florida.”

  Mr. Stewart turned to the bus driver. “Mack, can you drive us directly to the entrance?”

  “Wait!” a girl screamed. “There’s another alligator behind the bus!”

  “We’re surrounded,” said Shane, pointing out of the window. “There must be a dozen of them out there.”

  Forty-five minutes later we were still seated in the sweltering hot bus, watching as the alligators slowly made their way back into the swamp.

  “I’m losing my mind,” I said to Shane. “We’re so close to Kennedy Space Center—and all we can do is stare at it.”

  “On the bright side,” added Shane, “at least no one asked us to clean up after the gators…or serve them lunch. That’s a step in right direction.”

  Finally, the buses left the parking lot, drove past the Visitor Complex, and…headed back onto the main road.

  “Wait,” I said, jumping from my seat. “What?”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Stewart said, “considering the time, we’ve decided to go directly to our lodging and unpack.”

  “Noooooooo!” I screamed.

  “Chris.” Mr. Stewart looked at me strangely. “My decision is final. Don’t worry—we’ll have plenty of time to explore the facility tomorrow.”

  I looked at Kennedy Space Center, and had a sinking feeling that I’d never make it back.

  Fart Machines

  Kennedy Space Center had long faded from view by the time the buses pulled into our “lodgings.”

  “Way to go, Rio Vista Middle School,” Shane said as he saw where we were staying…Zed’s CraZy DiZcount CabinZ. “Couldn’t you find anyplace crummier for us to stay?”

  “What were you expecting?” I replied. “A five-star hotel?” I didn’t care where we stayed, I just wanted to drop off my bags and head back to the space center.

  “I take back what I said,” Shane said, patting me on the back as we stepped off the bus. “Look, the beach is just down that path. Thank you, Rio Vista!”

  In the parking lot, Ben and Gordon were waiting for us. And, of course, Nabila stood close by Ben’s side. It was a good thing she couldn’t smell Ben, who still reeked of warm barf.

  “I have to get to my cabin,” said Nabila. “I want to freshen up before we meet Mr. Stewart on the beach for the welcome announcement. I’ll see you boys later.”

  “Yeah, much later,” grumbled Gordon. “You’ve got A LOT of freshening up to do.”

  “Whew,” I said as she walked away.

  “Wow, she’s special, guys,” said Ben. “I mean, really smart! And an expert on Egyptology. I think we should introduce her to the mummies.”

  “Yeah, we know what you think, lover boy!” Gordon said. “But I don’t want her cramping our style.”

  “Me neither,” I said. “We can tell her how to get to Raven Hill when we get back from the trip. Director Z will be happy we found fresh blood.”

  After we all tried our best to “freshen up” in our CraZy Cabin, we went down to the beach. It was cool and breezy, with waves gently lapping up against the shore.

  “Man,” Shane said with a sigh, “I could really get used to this. Nice.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s so quiet and—”

  “Hey, guys!” we heard a shout from farther down the beach.

  Nabila was walking over.

  “Arrrgh!” I harrumphed. “When is she going to get that we just don’t want to hang out?”

  “Hi, Ben,” she said as she approached us. “How are you feeling?”

  “Pretty good, actually,” Ben said, and he got a little red in the face.

  Ben was not blushing for the fifth time—he was already starting to get a sunburn.

  “That’s a nice fanny pack you have,” he said nervously.

  “Oh, thank you,” she replied. “I always have it on me. I even sleep with it. I never know when I might need something!”

  Mr. Stewart and the chaperones made their way up the beach.

  “So,” Ben shyly continued with Nabila. “What—”

  “Shhhh…” Nabila said, and then whipped out a small notebook and pen from her fanny pack. “I think they’re going to give us the outline of the week’s events.”

  Mr. Stewart said, “Welcome to Cape Canavera
l! We planned a lot of fun events for everyone, but due to today’s unfortunate incident with the overgrown reptiles of Kennedy Space Center, we’re going to scale back a bit. I’ve decided that there will be no snorkeling in the nearby springs. Nor will there be any swimming. We’re just going to stick to Kennedy Space Center—”

  “Yeah!” I yelled. I knew that Shane was depressed by the news, but we came for the space center, not the beach.

  Mr. Stewart continued: “—with a little bit of bird-watching at Cape Canaveral National Seashore.”

  A whole bunch of Aw, mans and Nos floated up from the crowd of kids.

  He went on to talk about all of the rules and regulations and blah-blah-blah boring stuff. He ended with an announcement that we’d all have a BBQ dinner that night on the beach, cooked up, of course, by Lunch Lady.

  “I’m sorry, Shane,” I said, and put my hand on his shoulder. “You should wear your surfing sharks to Kennedy Space Center. Want to just sit down and enjoy the view?”

  “I was really excited to go snorkeling,” said Nabila. “I brought along an invention I’ve been working on that I hoped to test out.”

  “What’s that?” Shane asked.

  “It’s a device that attracts fish,” she said, and pulled a small, black rectangular device out of her fanny pack. “Someone’s already created an iPhone app, but I really wanted mine to be waterproof. Since, as you know, most fish are underwater.”

  “How does it work?” Ben asked.

  “Well,” she said, “it uses natural sounds to attract fish—small fish sucking on rocks, shrimp shells rubbing together, herring flatulence…”

  “Wait,” Shane said. “Do you mean herring farts?”

  “Yes,” said Nabila. “Herring communicate by farting, and the theory is that hearing their farts could attract other fish—fish that like herring. At the least, it should attract other farting herring. I was interested to see if more fish approached me than approached others while we were snorkeling.”

  “Oh, man, that’s hilarious!” Gordon laughed. “I wonder if Lunch Lady is going to barbecue some farting herring tonight?”

  Shane, Gordon, and I cracked up.

  “I think it’s cool,” said Ben. He gave Nabila an approving nod.

  Gordon continued chuckling uncontrollably. “Wait, wait! I’ve got something like your device on my iPhone. Check this out.”

  He whipped out his iPhone and, after touching the screen a few times there was a noisy, wet, sloppy FLLLLUUUURRRRT!

  He laughed and touched his screen one more time. This one was higher pitched.

  FEEEEEPT!

  And another.

  FWWWAAAAAAAAAP!

  “Wait, wait,” he said, practically crying now, “let me add one more.”

  There was a PING as he touched the screen, followed by a countdown.

  “THREE!”

  Gordon moved the phone down to his posterior.

  “TWO!”

  He stopped laughing for a moment and concentrated.

  “ONE!”

  He farted a long, juicy fart. He started to chuckle near the end and it came out with a little fit-fit-fit sound.

  I couldn’t help laughing. Shane and Ben joined in.

  “Oh, man,” said Shane. “It almost sounded like he was saying something. Ha-ha-ha!”

  Nabila gave Gordon the stink-eye and said, “Oh, no, that’s nothing like my device. My device attracts fish. Yours attracts idiots.”

  She stormed away as we laughed our heads off, and I looked forward to a fish dinner with my friends.

  Something’s Fishy

  After our beach BBQ, Shane, Ben, Gordon, and I all headed back up to our stuffy old cabin. I was too excited to sleep. And even if I wanted to, it would be impossible to block out the sound of Gordon snoring away on the top bunk across from me. Shane, however, was fast asleep, lying stiff as a board on his back, but with a look of content on his face. He even slept like a karate master.

  Ben must have heard me shuffling above him in my bunk. “Are you awake, too?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I whispered back.

  “Is it me, or was the fish extra fishy tonight?” Ben asked. “It kind of tasted like that last batch of Mac ’n’ Sneeze.”

  “Fish is supposed to be fishy,” I said. “Or it wouldn’t be fish. Would you want chicken to taste like cow?”

  “Well, at least I got to eat dinner on the beach with Nabila,” he said, and sighed.

  I saw where this was going.

  “She’s OFF LIMITS, dude!” I hissed.

  “Hey,” Ben said, “she’s just a special kind of girl.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “I thought Gordon’s fart library would keep her away, but even after that, she sat down with us at dinner.”

  “Sat down with me,” said Ben. “Even on the plane. Most girls usually run screaming when I barf. But this girl is…different.”

  I didn’t know what to say next, but I knew for sure that if Ben fell for Nabila that we’d be forced to let her into our circle, and I’d lose a friend to puppy love. So, I changed the subject.

  “Can you believe that fish talk by farting?” I asked. “No wonder Gil likes to fart so much. He’s just saying, ‘Hello!’”

  Ben started to giggle.

  “The way he goes at it,” Ben said, “he’s saying a WHOLE lot more than ‘Hello!’ He’s reciting the Declaration of Independence!”

  “Parlez vous fartzes?” I chortled.

  “Habla fartspañol?” Ben countered.

  We laughed until we cried, and then as we caught our breath, we smelled something funny.

  “Whew,” I said, “speaking of nasty smells.”

  “Ugh,” said Ben. “What is that?”

  The smell was superfunky and overpowering. I put my T-shirt over my nose and mouth. Ben did the same.

  “Where the heck is that coming from?” Ben asked.

  I climbed down from my bunk and sniffed around.

  “It smells fine outside,” I said as I looked out the window.

  “Good; I’m coming over there,” said Ben.

  With a snort, Gordon sat up on the bunk bed.

  “Dudes, put your shoes back on,” he moaned, still half asleep. “That’s some serious athlete’s foot I’m smellin’.”

  It smelled like something from the ocean had flopped into our room and died—worse than the swamp creature—but I couldn’t see anything in the room.

  I kept sniffing around. I sniffed Shane’s feet. I sniffed the closet. I got down and sniffed the floorboards.

  “Ach!” I almost choked. “It’s coming from under us.”

  “Great,” said Ben. “What the heck crawled into the crawl space and died?”

  I sniffed one more time, and the smell was even worse.

  That’s when there was a BANG, and our cabin shook.

  “What the…?” Gordon swayed on his bunk.

  BANG!

  This time one of the floorboards cracked, just in front of Shane and Gordon’s bunk.

  BANGCRACKBANG!

  The bunk beds swayed. Under the floorboards, a low, wet hiss could be heard.

  There was a pause and then…

  CRAAAACK!

  A huge, wet worm with hundreds of slimy, squirmy legs burst through the floor and slithered out between the broken wood.

  HISSSSSS!

  As more of the worm slithered into the room, the stench went from overpowering to painfully eye-watering.

  “Aahhh!” Shane yelled. He was finally awake. He leaped up and landed on the floor in a karate pose.

  The worm towered over Shane, writhing and wet, and opened its huge, slimy hole of a mouth.

  SCHLUUUUUUUCK!

  It paused for a minute, and then swung over to Gordon.

  “Aaaaarrggh!” Gordon yelled, and then he squeezed himself between the wall and the bunk bed, pushing it toward the massive sea worm.

  The bed knocked the worm over, right onto me!

  “Oof!” I grunted
…

  …and collapsed on the floor. The worm’s limp head crashed down in my lap.

  It was stunned, but just for a moment. It turned its eyeless head toward me and opened a mucus-filled mouth.

  HIIIISSSSSS!

  The smell overwhelmed my senses. I was stunned. But not because it was terrible. Because it smelled so good.

  “Chris!” Shane screamed. “To your left!”

  I looked up to see my bunk bed coming down and rolled out of the way just in time.

  SPLUNK!

  With a juicy crack, the bed landed on the head of the worm-beast, and it twitched under the weight.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Ben yelled, and we ran for the door.

  But before we could get outside, two more worms burst through the door.

  We scrambled to the window.

  And two more worms were waiting for us!

  They shot out in a flash. The two at the door reared up in front of Gordon and Shane, opened their mouth-holes wide, and then…

  GULP!

  …came down on my friends so fast that I didn’t even see them get swallowed.

  “Nooooooo!” I screamed, and rushed at the worms, which had already turned to slither back out the door.

  “Chris!” I could hear a muffled voice. “Chriiiiiiis!”

  I couldn’t tell if it was Shane. Or Gordon. Or both.

  Before I could reach either worm, my feet were brought out from under me. I went flying forward, and bumped my head hard. I saw stars, and was too weak to fight as the worm grabbed me with its sticky mouth and started to slurp up my legs, my face dragging along the floor. I could feel its muscles ripple all around me as I was pulled in deeper and deeper.

  I was able to turn just in time to see Ben, terrified, also being swallowed. He clutched two phones in his hands.

  “Catch,” he gasped, and tossed me mine.

  I grabbed it, and wondered, why, as a soon-to-be-dead man, I wanted this. Perhaps Ben wanted to make sure we connected in the afterlife?

  It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. We were worm meat. Still…I clutched the phone as the worm slurped me up into its hot guts.