D. MacHale - The Reality Bug

Zetlin flew his zip right for the deck. He leveled out a few feet above the jungle floor, speeding along a path. Loor was right behind him and I was right behind Loor. We were moving fast. I kept my eye on her back, looking for any movement that would warn me when the next turn was coming. We were on the home stretch. Soon we’d be at the entrance to the Barbican and home free.

After a few minutes of jungle jumping, Zetlin slowed down as he approached the far wall of the building. We had been racing for a while now, and my heart was thumping like crazy. Zetlin stopped his zip, jumped off, and ran up to a control panel that was built into the wall. He opened up the cover and started hitting buttons.

“Why don’t we fly the zips out of here?” I asked.

“They don’t work outside the Barbican,” Zetlin answered. “We’ve got to go to position two so we can walk out.”

He hit a few more buttons, and the building started to shake. I heard the far-off sound of screeching metal and could imagine the massive gears starting to turn. I could only hope they’d turn fast enough so we could get down and out of here before the bug found us. The building rumbled and started to move.

“It won’t be long,” Zetlin assured us.

We heard a tortured squealing sound, as if metal were being torn apart. A second later the building stopped moving.

“What happened?” Loor asked.

Zetlin went right back to the controls. He furiously hit a few keys, but nothing changed.

“I don’t understand,” he announced nervously. “All the indicators say we should be moving.”

“When we were back in the machine room,” I said, “there was a horrible sound. Could the Reality Bug have messed with the machinery?”

We then heard a piercing shriek come from deep within the jungle. We all looked up.

“I don’t know,” Zetlin said. “But the Barbican isn’t moving. If it doesn’t go vertical, we can’t get out.”

(CONTINUED)

An other shrill squeal echoed through the jungle. It was so loud that it felt like needles to the brain. A flock of colorful birds took flight not far behind us. We then heard the sound of crashing, crunching trees. Whatever the Reality Bug had changed into, it was big. And it was coming.

“This can’t be the only way out of here!” I complained.

“There is one other way,” Zetlin said. “It is an emergency corridor, but I have never used it.”

“I think now would be a good time to give it a shot,” I said quickly.

More crashing trees. Closer this time. I could hear the tearing and crunching of plants as the Reality Bug moved through the jungle, looking for us. Hunting for us.

“Where is this exit?” Loor asked.

“Back in the machine room,” was Zetlin’s answer.

“Machine room?” I shouted. “Why didn’t we use it when we were there?”

“Because I didn’t know the Reality Bug was capable of sabotaging the Barbican” was Zetlin’s logical answer.

“Okay, no problem,” I said, trying to keep calm. “We gotta get back there.”

That’s when we saw it. Crashing through the tropical trees only yards away came a terrifying sight. The Reality Bug had transformed itself into, well, into some kind of green bug. It had multiple, tarantula-style legs, a long scaly body, and a massive head with pincers that snapped in front of its red, fleshy mouth. And it had grown. This beast now towered over us like we were in some kind of Japanese monster movie.

When it appeared through the trees it stopped, reared its head and let out another one of those painful shrieks.

“We are in the wrong place,” Loor announced, and gunned her zip. She shot into the air, making sure to keep out of reach of the monster bug.

But she didn’t get far. No sooner had she taken off than the bug turned its head toward her and shot out a clear, ropelike cord from its mouth.

“Loor!” I shouted, but it was too late. The thread caught the back of her zip in midflight and held her there like a kite at the end of a string. Loor gunned the throttle, trying to shake it, but the filament held firm. I saw that it was reeling Loor in like a fish on the line. The pincers around its mouth snapped in anticipation. The spider had caught its prey and was ready to feed.

“I’m gonna bail her out,” I shouted, and was about to fly up and get her off her zip and onto mine. But Zetlin was quicker. He shot off the ground and throttled up to full speed. I thought he was going way too fast to stop right next to Loor, but that wasn’t his plan. He aimed his zip halfway between the struggling Loor and the giant bug, blasting into the taut filament, snapping it in half. Totally smart move. Loor sped forward as if propelled from a slingshot.

“Yes!” I shouted, and instantly wished I hadn’t. I was now alone, with the Reality Bug looming over me. Oops. I might as well have shouted: “Here I am! Come and get me!” It was time to go. I turned hard, to my left to stay as far away from the beast as possible, and throttled up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw it turn toward me and shoot out another cord. I quickly pushed my toe down, making the zip dive. The cord shot right over my shoulder, barely missing me. By the time the big bug reloaded, I was gone. A quick look over my shoulder showed me that it was scrambling back the way it had come, following the wide trail it had already cut through the jungle.

The race was back on.

I retreated in the direction of the water portal and soon caught up with Loor and Zetlin.

“Nice move,” I shouted at Zetlin.

“I am very good,” he answered.

He was good. Not modest, but good.

“Follow me back to the machine room,” he announced, and throttled up. Loor and I gunned our zips and settled in behind him. I was confident we would make it. The Reality Bug was getting bigger and that meant it was slower. If we kept the pedal to the metal, we’d beat it to the machine room and get out of there with no problem.

Or so I thought.

The big liquid square that was the portal to the water room appeared in the distance. The three of us were flying toward it at full speed. In a few seconds we’d hit the water and be on our way. Zetlin turned back to us and shouted, “You two okay?”

We both nodded.

“Don’t slow down. We can beat this thing,” he added with confidence.

Because Zetlin was turned back toward us, he didn’t see that something had appeared ahead. We were on a direct course for the big square of water, moving as fast as ever. But in that quick moment, I saw that there was something covering the opening. It took an instant for my brain to compute, but I realized what was stretched across the square.

It was a web. The Reality Bug must have spun a web after it came through, and it was about to catch a couple of speedy flies.

“Look out!” I screamed.

Too late. Loor and I turned hard and pulled out, but Zetlin didn’t have a chance. He barely had time to look forward when he slammed right into the web. I had a fleeting hope that it would snap like the cord Zetlin severed before, but it didn’t. This wasn’t just one cord, it was an interlocking web.

Loor and I circled back quickly to see that Zetlin was stuck in the sticky cords. His zip had crashed to the ground, leaving him tangled and helpless like, well, like a fly caught in a spiderweb. I wasn’t even sure if he was conscious. Or alive.

Loor pulled her zip right up to Zetlin and hovered next to him.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Zetlin nodded. Whew. He was shaken, but alive and awake. He was also trapped in a spiderweb. I looked down to the jungle below to see the giant bug in the distance, scurrying toward us. Its eight legs were thrashing hard to speed it along to see if anything tasty was caught in its trap. We had to get Zetlin out of there fast. But how?