25 - Attack of the Mutant (8 page)

His dark eyes burned menacingly through the slits in his mask. He was a lot
taller than he appeared in the comic. And a lot more powerful-looking.

And a lot scarier.

He raised a fist at The Galloping Gazelle. “You dare to invade my private
office?” he demanded.

“Say good-bye to all this ill-gotten splendor,” The Galloping Gazelle told
the Mutant.

“I’ll say good-bye to
you
!” The Masked Mutant shot back, spitting the
words angrily.

Then he turned his frightening, cold eyes on me. “I’ll handle you easily,
Gazelle,” the world’s most evil supervillain said softly. “But,
first,
watch me destroy the kid!”

I shrank back as The Masked Mutant took a step toward me, his fist still
raised, his black eyes glaring furiously into mine.

My heart pounding, I turned and frantically searched for a hiding place.

But there was nowhere to hide.

And I couldn’t make a run for it. The door slammed shut as The Masked Mutant
moved closer.

“Whoa!” I cried. I raised both hands in front of my face, as if shielding
myself.

I couldn’t bear to see his cold, cruel eyes glaring at me as he approached.

He’s going to
destroy
me, I thought. But I don’t have to watch!

And, then, as The Masked Mutant took one more step, The Galloping Gazelle
moved to block his way. “You’ll deal with
me,
Mutant!” he declared in his
booming voice. “If you want the kid, you’ll have to take me out first.”

“No problem,” The Masked Mutant declared softly.

But his expression changed as The Galloping Gazelle began to circle him.
Faster and faster—until the Gazelle appeared to disappear into a whirling,
spinning tornado of blue and red.

The Gazelle is carrying out his plan, I realized as I backed up to the wall.
He’s going to run faster and faster around The Masked Mutant until he creates a
whirlwind that will blow the evil Mutant away.

Pressing my back against the wall, I watched the amazing battle eagerly. The
Galloping Gazelle whirled faster. Faster. So fast, a powerful wind swept over
the room, slapping the curtains, toppling over a vase of flowers, sending books
flying from the shelves.

Yes! I thought happily, shooting both fists into the air.
Yes
! We win!
We win!

I lowered my hands and let out a horrified groan when I saw The Masked Mutant
casually stick his foot out.

The Galloping Gazelle tripped over the foot and slammed facedown onto the
floor with a shattering
thud.

He bounced hard a couple of times and then lay still.

The wind stopped. The curtains fell back in place.

The Masked Mutant stood over the fallen superhero, hands triumphantly on the waist of his costume.

“Get up!” I screamed, without even realizing I was doing it. “Get up,
Gazelle! Please!”

The Gazelle groaned, but didn’t move.

“Dinnertime,” sneered The Masked Mutant.

My back pressed hard against the wall, I stared in horror as The Mutant began
to change again. His face twisted and appeared to flatten. His body lowered, and
he leaned forward, spreading his hands on the floor.

He stepped forward as a snarling leopard. Tilting its head to one side, the
leopard uttered a ferocious growl of attack.

Then it arched its back, tensed its back legs—and leaped on to the sprawled
body of The Galloping Gazelle.

“Get up! Get up, Gazelle!” I shrieked as the leopard attacked.

The Masked Mutant clawed and gnawed at the helpless Gazelle.

“Get up! Get
up
!” I screamed.

To my shock, The Galloping Gazelle opened his eyes.

The ferocious leopard ripped away the bottom of The Gazelle’s mask with its
teeth.

The Galloping Gazelle rolled out from under the enormous beast and scrambled
to his feet.

With a roar, the leopard swiped its paws, sending a long tear down the length of The Gazelle’s cape.

“I’m
outta
here!” The Gazelle cried, making tracks to the door. He
turned back to me. “You’re on your own, kid!”

“No! Wait!” I screamed.

I don’t think The Gazelle heard me. He shoved open the door with one shoulder
and vanished.

The door slammed behind him.

Quickly, the leopard changed, rising up on its hind legs, its body shifting
and moving—until The Masked Mutant stepped forward.

He smiled at me as he approached, a cold, menacing smile.

“You’re on your own, kid,” he said softly.

I edged along the wall as The Masked Mutant moved slowly, steadily toward me.
I knew I couldn’t get to the door, as The Galloping Gazelle had. I wasn’t fast
enough.

He should call himself The Galloping
Chicken!
I thought bitterly.

How could he save his own skin and leave me here like this?

I couldn’t run. I couldn’t fight. What could I do?

What could I do against a deadly foe who could turn himself into anything
solid?

The Masked Mutant stopped in the center of the room, hands on his waist, his
dark eyes twinkling. He was enjoying my fright. And already tasting his victory.

“What are your powers, kid?” he demanded, a sneer in his voice.

“Huh?” His question caught me by surprise.

“What are your powers?” he repeated impatiently, swirling his cape behind
him. “Do you shrink down to a tiny bug? Is that your secret?”

“Huh? Shrink? Me?” I was shaking so hard, I couldn’t think straight.

Why was he asking me these questions?

“Do you burst into flames?” he continued, moving closer. “Is that your power?
Are you magnetic? Are you a mind-fogger?” His voice turned angry. “What
is
it, kid?
Answer
me! What is your power?”

“I—I don’t have any powers,” I stammered. If I pressed any harder into the
wall, I’d become part of the wallpaper!

The Masked Mutant laughed. “So you won’t tell me, huh? Okay, okay. Have it
your way.”

His smile faded. His dark eyes turned cold and hard. “I was just trying to
make it easy on you,” he said, moving even closer. “I want to destroy you in the
easiest way possible.”

“Oh. I see,” I muttered.

My eye caught something on the shelf. A large, smooth stone as big as a
coconut. It was some kind of decoration. I wondered if it would make a good
weapon.

“Say bye-bye, kid,” he said through clenched teeth.

He came toward me quickly.

And as he moved, I grabbed the big stone off the shelf. It was a lot heavier
than I’d thought. It wasn’t stone, I realized. It was shaped like a smooth
stone. But it was made of solid steel.

I hoisted it up and took careful aim. Then I heaved it at The Masked Mutant’s
head. And missed.

The stone thudded heavily onto the carpet. “Nice try,” he muttered…

…and moved quickly to destroy me.

I tried to duck away from him, but he was too quick.

His powerful hands grabbed me around the waist and lifted me off the floor.

Higher. Higher.

I realized he was moving his molecules, making his arms stretch until he had
lifted me above the chandelier.

I thrashed my arms and legs and tried to squirm away. But he was too strong.

Higher. Higher. Until my head banged hard against the ceiling, at least
twenty feet above the floor.

“Happy landings!” The Masked Mutant cried gleefully as he prepared to drop me
and send me plummeting to my doom.

But before he could drop me, I heard the door swing open.

The Masked Mutant heard it, too. Holding me suspended in the air, he turned to see who had entered. “You!” he cried in
surprise.

High above the floor, I squirmed around and bent my head to see through the
chandelier. The light sparkled through the crystals, making it impossible to
see.

“How dare you burst in here!” The Masked Mutant cried to the intruder.

He lowered me a little. Just enough for me to see the doorway.

“Libby!” I cried. “What are
you
doing here?”

The Masked Mutant lowered me to the floor and turned to face Libby. My legs
were wobbling so badly, I had to grab on to a bookshelf to hold myself up.

“Libby—get
out
of here! Get away!” I tried to warn her.

But she stormed into the room, her red hair flying behind her. She had her
eyes on me and completely ignored The Masked Mutant.

Doesn’t she
know
that he is the most evil supervillain in the known
universe?

“Skipper—didn’t you hear me calling you?” Libby demanded sharply.

“Huh? Libby—”

“I was across the street,” she said. “I saw you going into this building. I
called to you.”

“I—I didn’t hear you,” I stammered. “Listen, you’d better get
out
of
here, Libby.”

“I’ve been searching and searching for you,” she continued, ignoring my
warning, ignoring my frantic gestures. “What are you
doing
in here, Skipper?”

“Uh… I really can’t talk right now,” I replied, pointing to The Masked
Mutant.

He stood impatiently, hands at his waist, tapping his boot on the carpet. “I
see that I will have to destroy you both,” he said quietly.

Libby spun around. She seemed to notice the supervillain for the first time.
“Skipper and I are leaving now,” she said with a sneer.

I gasped.
Didn’t she know who she was talking to?

No. Of course she didn’t know. She reads only
High School Harry & Beanhead
comics. She has no idea how much danger we are in! I realized.

“I’m sorry,” The Masked Mutant replied, sneering back at Libby from under his
mask. “You are not leaving. In fact, you are never leaving this building again.”

Libby glared back at him, and I saw her expression change. Her green eyes
grew wide, and her mouth dropped open.

She took a step back until she stood beside me. “We have to do something,”
she whispered.

Do something?

What could
we
do against the monstrous mega-mutant?

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t think of how to answer her.

The Masked Mutant tossed back his cape and took a step toward us. “Which one of you wants to go first?” he demanded
softly.

I turned and saw that Libby had backed up to the bookshelves. She pulled a
yellow plastic toy gun from her backpack.

“Libby—what are you
doing
?” I whispered. “That’s just a toy!”

“I know,” she whispered back. “But this is a comic book—right? It can’t be
real. So if it’s a comic book, we can do
anything
!”

She raised the plastic toy pistol and aimed it at The Masked Mutant.

He let out a cold laugh. “What do you plan to do with that toy?” he asked
scornfully.

“It only l-looks like a toy,” Libby stammered. “It’s a Molecule-Melter. Leave
this room—or I’ll melt all your molecules!”

The Mutant’s smile grew wider. “Nice try,” he said, flashing two rows of
perfect, white teeth.

He narrowed his eyes at Libby and took another step toward her. “I guess you
want to go first. I’ll try not to hurt you—too much.”

Libby held the toy gun in front of her with both hands. She gritted her
teeth, preparing to pull the trigger.

“Put down that toy. It can’t help you,” The Masked Mutant declared, moving
closer.

“I’m not kidding,” Libby insisted in a shrill voice. “It isn’t a toy. It
really
is
a Molecule-Melter.”

The Masked Mutant laughed again and took another step closer. Then another
step.

Libby aimed the gun at The Mutant’s chest. She pulled the trigger.

A high-pitched whistle burst out of the gun.

The Masked Mutant took another step closer. Then another.

Libby lowered the plastic gun.

We both stared in horror as The Masked Mutant came nearer.

He took one more step. Then stopped.

A bright white light circled his body. The light became a crackling
electrical current.

The Mutant uttered a low moan. Then he began to melt.

His head melted down into his mask. Tinier and tinier—until it disappeared
completely. The empty mask slumped on to the shoulders of his costume. And then
the rest of his body melted away, shrinking until there was nothing left but a
wrinkled costume and cape, heaped on the carpet.

Libby and I stood staring down at the costume in silence.

“It—it worked!” I finally managed to choke out. “The toy gun—it worked,
Libby!”

“Of course,” she replied with surprising calm.

She walked over to the empty costume and kicked it with her sneaker. “Of
course it worked. I warned him it was a Molecule-Melter. He wouldn’t listen.”

My brain was doing flip-flops. I didn’t really understand. It was just a toy
pistol. Why did it destroy the mightiest mutant on Earth?

“Let’s get out of here!” I pleaded, starting toward the door.

Libby moved to block my path. “I’m sorry, Skipper,” she said softly.

“Sorry? What do you mean?”

She raised the plastic pistol and aimed it at me. “I’m sorry,” she said,
“because you’re disappearing next.”

At first I thought Libby was joking. “Libby, put down the gun,” I told her.
“You have a
sick
sense of humor!”

She kept the plastic gun aimed at my chest.

I let out a feeble laugh.

But I quickly cut it short when I saw the hard expression on her face. “Libby—what’s your problem?” I demanded.

“I’m not Libby,” she replied softly. “I hate to break the news to you,
Skipper—but there
is
no Libby.”

As she said those words, she began to change. Her red hair slid into her
head. Her cheeks grew wider. Her nose lengthened. Her eyes changed from green to
black.