Fartsunami Page 7

  “You have a Kraken!?” Gordon yelled.

  “Moby Dick is real?” I asked.

  “Sure,” replied Clive. “Vampires are real. I’m real. Why not Moby Dick—one of the fiercest sea monsters?”

  “I wonder what other crazy monsters there are in the world,” I gasped.

  “We’ve got a couple of the craziest in our collection,” Clive continued. “Have you ever seen a vampire squid?”

  We headed deeper into the aquarium’s main hall. Moans and groans came from the tanks. The hair on the back of my neck slowly rose. I swept my flashlight around the nooks and crannies, waiting for a rogue zombie to pounce, but there was nothing but shadow.

  “Maybe we should have brought a Nurse,” I said.

  “Don’t worry, dude,” Clive said, “I’ll be able to talk him down. Hey, check these guys out.” He pointed at a tank to his right.

  “What’s in there?” Gordon asked.

  In a flash, a huge, rotten shark flung itself at us.

  THUNK!

  “Whaa!” Gordon and I jumped back.

  Another shark hit the glass and chomped at us.

  The glass shook, but stayed in place.

  “Coooool,” said Clive. He clapped his hands together.

  “What happened to those sharks?” I asked.

  “Well, one day I was surfing, and a shark tried to bite me, so I bit him back.”

  “ZOMBIE SHARKS!?!” said Gordon. “That’s amazing!”

  “TOTALLY GNARLY, RIGHT!” Clive said, and then high-fived Gordon again. “The first guy went off and bit a few more. They act all aggro, but they’re totally chill with humans—all you gotta do is growl at them, and they totally remember who made them zombies.”

  A long, low growl came from the end of the hallway.

  “Whoa,” said Clive, “the Kraken is angry. I guess we got too loud. Come on, let’s check him out and see if our little rogue friend is down this way.”

  We walked to the very end of the hallway, and stood in front of the largest tank we had seen so far. Tentacles floated in and out of sight.

  “No rogue zombies down here,” said Gordon.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go see if the Nurses found anything.”

  “Wait a second, dudes,” said Clive, pointing to the tank.

  A huge eye loomed in front of us, staring us down.

  “What’s up, big guy?” asked Clive.

  The eye blinked once.

  “This guy’s heavy,” Clive said. “He’s the strongest sea monster we’ve got here. His jaw can crush a battleship. He’s a little weak, like the rest of us, but he could still do some major damage. I’d like to take him for a ride, but I don’t have a strong enough karate chop. One strong whack to the top of the head, and he’ll listen to any instruction you give him.”

  We turned back down the hallway and headed to the entrance.

  The Nurses didn’t find anything in the aquarium, so we spent the rest of the day searching the jungle and found absolutely nothing. We returned to the resort, where we updated Director Z, Ben, and Shane in the dining room. A chef, who looked exactly like a Nurse except for his uniform, brought over a steaming tray of frog legs.

  “Wait,” said Ben. “Before I bite into this, I just have to ask: Is it even safe?”

  “I assure you, it’s been properly prepared,” replied Director Z. “Our chefs are quite skilled at dezombification.”

  “Well, I’m hungry,” said Gordon, and he started tearing at the leg meat.

  “Eat up, gentlemen,” said Director Z. “We have a long night ahead of us. We’ll need to keep watch. Please break into shifts. I’ll ask the Nurses to do the same, but they’re not exactly big on details—they might miss something. I need your eyes out there.”

  “Well someone else can take the first shift, because I’m exhausted,” I said. “I need to sleep for a few hours.”

  “I’m ON IT!” said Gordon.

  “Wow,” Shane said. “What did Griselda’s spell do to you? You’re pumped.”

  “Thanks, Gordon,” I said.

  I grabbed a pair of frog legs and stood up.

  “I’m pooped. I’ll just nibble these in my room, if you guys don’t mind,” I said.

  “Of course,” Director Z said. “Good night, Chris. I will also be turning in early tonight. I haven’t slept in nearly three days. I’m so glad you gentlemen are here.”

  “Good night.” I yawned.

  I shuffled up to my room and passed out.

  Romantically Rotten Dinners

  “Dude,” Gordon yelled, shaking me violently out of a deep sleep. It felt like the island was having an earthquake.

  “I gotta sleep,” I mumbled and turned over. “I’ll pass out tomorrow if I don’t.”

  “C’mon, wake up,” he said, shaking me again.

  I ignored him and drifted back to sleep. Moments later I awoke with a gasp. Something horribly putrid had filled my lungs. I tried to sit up to but something pinned me down on the bed. As hard as I struggled, I couldn’t get to fresh air.

  Then I heard what sounded like laughing. I recognized the voice. Gordon had pulled the sheet over my head, slid his butt under it, and farted, sealing me in. It was disgusting—I felt like I had been covered in a layer of fart sweat. My nostrils flared.

  “You’re sick, dude!” I yelled, finally able to peel the covers off of my face.

  “Well, you should have just woken up when I told you to,” Gordon said, giggling.

  I tried to kick him, but he was already headed through my open door.

  “You’ve got to see this!” he yelled. “This is hilarious.”

  With an angry grunt, I kicked off the stinky sheet and followed him outside.

  I was happy to be breathing in the hot, heavy, moist air. In the starry, cloudless sky above, an almost-full moon shined. It was so clear, you could almost make out the moon’s face—a combination of plains, highlands, and craters that made the moon look like it had eyes, a nose, and a mouth. I sighed, remembering how close I was to touching moon rock at Kennedy Space Center.

  Still half asleep, I asked Gordon, “Are you showing me the moon?”

  “Naw, stupid,” he said. “What I’m about to show you, ya don’t see every day. Keep walking. Shane and Ben are already there.”

  I shuffled down a shorter path than the one we had used earlier in the day, and came out on the beach. At the very end of the beach, up against the cliffs, loomed a massive dead whale.

  “Ha-ha,” I said, and yawned. “That beached whale is really funny, Gordon! The way its body has rotted and hollowed out to show its ribs. HILARIOUS!”

  I turned around to leave, but Gordon grabbed me.

  “Just wait until we get closer,” he said, and chuckled.

  We walked farther down the beach, and found Shane and Ben crouched behind a huge pile of driftwood.

  “Get down,” they hissed as we approached.

  “They’re too busy staring in each other’s eyes to notice us,” Gordon said.

  “Who?!” I asked. Now I was really interested.

  Gordon and I crouched down behind the driftwood with our friends. Our four heads peeked up over the wood and stared at the beached whale. It took a while for my eyes to adjust, but then I saw it.

  “No way!” I said. “Clarice and Pietro are having dinner in the whale carcass.”

  “Yep, they sure are,” said Gordon, and he had to put his hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle.

  “I mean, this is serious,” said Shane. “They must have snuck out after lights-out. They’ve got the checkered tablecloth and a nice candelabra. They’ve got really beautiful plates and silverware. Well done, Pietro!”

  They sat at a small table inside the whale carcass. Pietro, the werewolf, picked up his fork, speared something on his plate, and then reached over to feed it to Clarice, the banshee.

  She plucked the morsel off of the fork with her teeth, and began to chew delicately.

  “What are they eating
?” I asked.

  “I think they’re eating the whale,” Ben said. “It must have washed up on the beach a few weeks ago. That thing is STINKY.”

  Just as Ben finished his statement, a strong wind blew up the beach, and we could smell the rotting sea creature.

  “Ugggh,” I said, and covered my nose.

  “Wait, look,” said Shane. “Ben is right!”

  Pietro, huge butcher knife in hand, stood up, walked deeper into the whale, grabbed a nice rotten chunk, and sliced it off. He brought it down on the platter between their plates. He reached up and grabbed a scoop of the fat that was dripping off the rib cage above them, putting it on the whale meat like one would put whipped cream on an ice cream sundae.

  “Banshees eat whale, huh? Who’d have known?” asked Gordon.

  “Love makes you do strange things,” said Ben with a sigh.

  “Shut up, guys,” I said. “I think they’re talking.”

  It was hard to hear because of the shifting winds. We cupped our ears.

  “When I first heard you screech at Raven Hill,” said Pietro, “my ears perked right up. I knew that yours was the voice I always wanted howling at the moon with me.”

  “Oh, Pietro,” purred the banshee, “you’re just too kind. Well, I love that you actually still have all that hair on your head—most of the men around here are bald as babies!”

  She reached up to his bushy head and started to twirl his hair.

  His leg started twitching like a dog’s.

  “So silky,” she said. “Do you use conditioner?”

  “He most certainly does not,” said Shane. “But he does like to roll around in dead things.”

  I started to laugh uncontrollably. Ben and Gordon soon followed.

  We tried hard to stop, for fear of being heard, but it was too late.

  Pietro stood up…and looked right at us.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  We slunk lower behind the driftwood.

  The vegetation next to us started to rustle, and out stepped another werewolf—I think his name was Howie. He held an accordion.

  “What am I doing here?” he said. “You said ten o’clock, right?”

  “Yes, and it’s nine thirty,” said Pietro. “We haven’t even finished our main course.”

  “Forget it then,” Howie said, “I’ll just transform and find something to roll around in for a while.”

  He was about to put the accordion down when Clarice stood up.

  “No, wait,” she said. “I’d love some music.”

  “Wonderful, then!” said Howie.

  He started to play a crazy tune on the accordion, and the banshee nodded her head in appreciation. The song continued for a few seconds and then Howie started to sing.

  “Awooo, awooo, aweeeeeeeoooo,” Howie howled.

  Pietro and Clarice joined in, their howls and screeches rattling the whale ribs.

  “Man,” said Gordon, “this is crazy.”

  We all plugged our ears while the three kept screeching and howling.

  When the music was over, Clarice and Pietro began applauding wildly.

  “Bravo, BRAVO!” she said.

  “Well,” Howie said with a bow, “I’ll leave you two alone now. Have a wonderful evening!”

  “Thanks, Howie,” said Pietro. “I really, really appreciate it, my brother. Sorry I got snippy before.”

  Howie slunk back into the brush, leaving Pietro and Clarice in the moonlight.

  “That was so romantic,” said Clarice, and she put her head on Pietro’s shoulder.

  “Well,” said Pietro, putting his hand around her back, “now that we’ve had dinner and some entertainment, perhaps we should have a little dessert.”

  “Oh, my,” she said. “What do you have for dessert?”

  “Just your sweet, sweet lips,” said Pietro.

  “Oooh, not smooth,” said Shane.

  Clarice lifted her head in surprise.

  The both moved in closer for a kiss.

  “Ewww,” said Gordon. “This is going to be gross.”

  They moved even closer…

  …when a splash made us turn our heads. It sounded like something had flopped up onto the beach, but I couldn’t see anything. Pietro and Clarice clearly didn’t notice, as they were still lost in their kiss.

  “Ewww,” said Gordon again. “Old people kissing is just so gross.”

  “I think it’s beautiful,” said Shane. “Cross-monster relationships. We’re entering a new era.”

  “Whatever,” said Gordon.

  “AAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

  A screech pierced our ears.

  “You bit me,” said Clarice, jumping up from her seat. “And I thought you were a gentleman!”

  She got up to leave, and Pietro got up to follow.

  “Wait! I’m a werewolf, and you taste good! I had a moment of weakness! It will never happen again! Wait!”

  “This was a huge mistake,” she said.

  Pietro suddenly dropped to the ground, shaking and drooling.

  “Pietro?! PIETRO!?” Clarice yelled.

  “Guurrrrgggglllyyyaaaaaah!” Pietro was struggling with something invisible, his arms pinned to his side, his head twisted back in agony.

  “What the heck?” said Ben.

  We jumped up and ran over toward Pietro.

  Clarice saw us and said, “I have no idea what happened. It came on so quick!”

  Shane leaned down to help Pietro up, but he thrashed around violently, frothing at the mouth.

  “Pietro!” Shane yelled. “Relax!”

  Pietro howled, and Shane jumped back.

  “He won’t bite you,” I said.

  “No, it’s not that,” said Shane. “Something’s covering him. A thin skin.”

  “What!?” said Clarice.

  Pietro thrashed and kicked the sand, fighting some invisible assailant. He growled and snapped his teeth.

  “It’s disappeared,” said Shane, “but it was there when he howled.”

  “Howl again!” I yelled. “Pietro, howl again!”

  “Aaaaarrrooooooooo!” Pietro howled, and the skin lifted off his body again, but sucked tight against him as soon as he was done howling.

  “Again,” Clarice yelled. “AAAAGGGAAIIINNNNN!”

  “Your scream is helping,” said Shane to Clarice.

  “Arrrrooooooooooooooooaaaaahhhhh!” we all yelled as a clear skin peeled itself off Pietro, from his feet up to his forehead, with a wet, sticky sound.

  The skin slowly rolled off of his head, and Pietro stopped struggling and started shaking. The skin was barely visible—almost completely see-through.

  “Grab it,” Ben yelled.

  Gordon pounced, but by the time he hit the ground, all that was left was sand.

  The skin zoomed back to the water, and with a splash it was gone.

  “What was that thing?!” screeched Ben.

  “Pietro, are you okay?” Clarice knelt down next to Pietro.

  “He looks like he’s twenty years older,” I said.

  “I…feel…twenty years…older,” he said, and then turned into an old mangy dog.

  Old mangy Pietro laid in the sand, sleeping and dreaming, his paws twitching uneasily.

  “We should bring him back up to the facility,” I said.

  I’ve Got You Under My Skin

  Gordon picked up the twitching dog and we all headed up the nearest path to the resort.

  “It’ll be all right, Pietro,” said Gordon. “We’re gonna get you some help.”

  Halfway to the resort, we ran into Director Z. His fine silk pajamas flapped in the ocean breeze.

  “I heard screams and came as quickly as I could,” he said. “What is it?”

  “It’s Pietro,” I said. “He’s been attacked by a weird sea skin.”

  “It covered him and drained him insanely fast,” said Shane. “I think this is why the other residents are sick.”

  “Are you sure this skin is actually gone?�
�� Director Z asked.

  “Yeah, we heard it splash back into the ocean,” said Gordon.

  Two Nurses pounded down the path toward us.

  “Nurse Inx,” commanded Director Z, “take Pietro to the infirmary as swiftly as you can. Nurse Glick, raise the witches—we’ll need special potions to be brewed tonight.”

  The Nurses ran off.

  “Clarice,” said the Director, “what on Earth were you doing outside? Why did you and Pietro violate our curfew?”

  “I know, I know,” said Clarice. “It was a very stupid thing to do.”

  “What is that on your lip?” asked Director Z. “Were you bitten by the sea skin?”

  “Well…no.” She hesitated. “It wasn’t the sea skin…”

  There was a long silence.

  “Very well,” said Director Z.

  Clarice went back to her room. Director Z turned to us.

  “Gentlemen, this is quite a development. We should all meet in my office. Please just give me fifteen minutes to ready myself, and do grab Clive. He’s in room 345.”

  Director Z stormed back up the path.

  Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at Director Z’s office with Clive. A broken fish tank sat to the right of a huge desk. I walked over to the massive tank—the front of the tank was smashed in and the tank was completely dry. A small brass plate attached to the wood under the tank read PYGOCENTRUS NATTERERI

  I was about to ask Director Z what that meant when he sat down behind his desk. The desk still had a HERR DIREKTOR DETLEF nameplate sitting on it.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, “please do have a seat.”

  There was a leather couch and plush chairs surrounding a rug in front of the desk. We all chose a spot and sat down.

  “Ummm, Boss…” Clive was halfway into his seat, and the board that ran through his body wouldn’t let him go any further.

  “I think I’ll just stand,” he said.

  “That’s quite fine,” said Director Z. “Tell me, have you ever seen or heard about the bizarre skin creature that attacked Pietro?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have,” replied Clive. “Totally new to me.”