Frog Freakout (2 page)

“Well, I'm not a weather forecaster!” said Josh. “I don't know! I'm just trying to be cheerful.”

“Just trying to be cheerful,” mimicked Danny in a silly high voice. He kicked a bucket, which was collecting some drips from the ceiling. “Why did I ever say yes to this stupid summer camp?”

“It was the rappelling,” said Josh, still reading. “And the canoeing. And the den building and the tree climbing.”

Danny folded his arms and huffed. There had been
some
fun—bits of it—in between the rain. The rappelling was great. Even Josh had had a go, although he'd looked as white as a sheet in his ropes and safety helmet as he stepped off the ten-meter-high platform. The canoeing had been good too. But both these things had been cut short when the rain and wind got so bad the instructors couldn't actually
see
the kids anymore.

Since then there had been indoor stuff going on. To start with, loads of them had been playing handheld computer games for a few hours in the big canvas tepee, and that was a brilliant laugh . . . right up until Drill Sergeant had stomped in and confiscated them all.

“Didn't you read the rules?” he bellowed as the rain drummed loudly above them. “Nobody should have brought any computer games or mobile phones or gadgets with them! This is Outdoor Action Camp—not Suction Your Eyeballs
to a Beeping Screen Camp. Here—read some pamphlets on how to light a campfire instead.”

His name was Steve, but every kid there called him Drill Sergeant because he was so shouty. There was a rumor that he'd been a prison guard in his last job. He had a jaw like a cement block and tiny dark eyes that glittered malevolently at kids who didn't instantly do as they were told. Several had been refused dessert and treats by Steve for misbehaving (Danny on day one!). And the man shouted so loudly whenever he was angry that the crows in a nearby clump of trees would scatter into the sky, cawing with terror.

“Ooooooh! LOOK!” Josh suddenly threw down his book and shot across the floor of the cabin to scoop something up in his hands.

“Whaaa-aat?” asked Danny, anxiously, and Callum and Sayid sat up on their bunks to see what was going on.

“What a beauty!” murmured Josh, staring into his cupped palms.

Danny stepped back a bit. He knew where this was going. “What have you got now, you freaky little bug nerd?” he asked.

“A nursery web spider!” said Josh and opened his palms gleefully. A large yellowy-brown spider sat there, its front four legs clumped together in pairs so it looked as if it might have only six. Its abdomen was long and pointed. It started to scuttle up Josh's arm.

“Eeeeeeeugh!” Danny shuddered. He hated creepy-crawlies. Even though he'd been one—quite a few times.

“Ah come on—she's gorgeous,” said Josh, and Sayid came to have a look, squinting through his spectacles. So did Callum, although he kept his
distance and held his Marvel comic annual across his chest.

“Gorgeous?” Danny stared at his brother. Sometimes he had difficulty believing that they really were related—but being identical twins proved they must be. “Josh . . . you need to get out more!”

Sayid and Callum soon lost interest and wandered out of the cabin, holding their raincoats over their heads, to see what was for lunch.

“I'm amazed you're still such a baby about these things,” said Josh as the nursery web spider reached his shoulder. “You've
been
one!”

“Yes . . . and I've also nearly been eaten alive by one too, remember?”

Josh had to admit this was true. Over the last few weeks, he and his brother had been turned
into spiders, flies, grasshoppers, ants, daddy longlegs, and even great diving beetles. And nearly every time something had tried to eat them. While Danny was a fly, he'd been captured by a female spider and wrapped up in silk—a tasty snack for later on. He was half a second away from being injected with gut-pulverizing venom when he was rescued.

“I wouldn't mind being S.W.I.T.C.H. sprayed and turned into one of these, though, for just a few minutes,” said Josh. “They're amazing hunters. They don't use webs—they just hide under a leaf and POUNCE!” He shook his spidery shoulder at Danny, and Danny squeaked and jumped back. He might be super brave while dangling over the edge of a high building on a rope or turning upside down through the water in a canoe . . . but he just couldn't STAND creepy-crawlies.

“I thought you said you NEVER wanted to be S.W.I.T.C.H.ed again,” said Danny. “You said you never even wanted to SEE Petty Potts over the fence. Mom thought you were really rude when you ignored Petty in the post office last week.”

“Yeah, well,” said Josh, gently putting the spider back down into the corner where it vanished into a crack in the floorboards. “Mom doesn't know that our sweet old neighbor is actually a mad genius scientist who's turned us into creepy-crawlies with her S.W.I.T.C.H. spray quite a few times now.”

“True,” agreed Danny. “She'd probably have her arrested if she did.”

“Still,” said Josh, “at least we're safe from Petty Potts and her sneaky experiments. We're miles away in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yep.” Danny grinned. “No chance of that mad granny catching up with us here! Shall we go and find out what's for lunch then?”

“OK,” said Josh. They grabbed their raincoats and opened the door.

And SCREAMED.

Standing in the dripping doorway of the log cabin was Petty Potts.

“AAAAAARGH!” screamed Josh. And Danny agreed.

“Pleased to see me?” Petty Potts beamed. Her gray hair was covered with a waxed cotton beanie hat, and her glasses were steamed up. Her shiny red raincoat glistened eerily in the orangey light, and she smelled worryingly of chemicals, like a school science lab.

“What are YOU doing here?” squawked Josh.

“I was going to ask you the same thing!” said Petty.

“We're at summer camp!” said Danny. “But shouldn't you be doing something sinister in your secret dungeon—like S.W.I.T.C.H.ing some defenseless pigeons into wood lice or something?”

“It's not a dungeon!” Petty bristled (literally—the whiskers on her chin stood up). “It's a state-of-the-art laboratory, cunningly hidden under my garden, where I perform my acts of genius. I DO wish you wouldn't be so melodramatic, Danny.”

“So—why are you here?” Josh eyed her suspiciously. Even though Petty had saved their lives once or twice, neither of them trusted her as far as they could throw her (and that would not be far). Petty was just too swept up with BUGSWITCH and REPTOSWITCH experiments to give two hoots about their safety.

“I am a camp counselor!” She grinned. “I am here to look after all you small children . . . as if I were your loving auntie. Isn't that nice?”

Josh pulled Petty into the cabin and shut the door behind her. “Petty—you are NOT planning to S.W.I.T.C.H. any of the kids here, are you?” he demanded, really alarmed now.

“Of course not,” said Petty. “As IF! No . . . I really wanted to get away for a while and just relax and share the company of happy young minds . . . that's all.”

“So,” Danny eyed her suspiciously, “nothing at all to do with your Serum Which Instigates Total Cellular Hijack?”