Stampede of the Supermarket Slugs (5 page)

Henry opened his hand. Two of the octopus legs slithered to the floor.

“All of the legs!” Keats demanded. “You have to drop all of them!”

“I can’t,” Henry said. He nodded at his right hand. The claws had pinned Henry’s hand to the wall. The last octopus leg was stuck behind it.

Keats ran to the dispenser. He pulled out the next ticket, number 56.

“Henry, catch!” He tried to toss the ticket to Henry, but it was too light. It just drifted to the ground.

Keats needed to make it heavier. He reached into the garbage and grabbed a fish head. He popped the ticket into the gaping mouth.

The sign blinked faster and made a beeping sound. The lobster claws holding Henry pulled harder. They quivered like rockets about to take off.

“Hurry!” Henry shouted.

Keats loved basketball but he wasn’t always very good at it. This time, though, he had to make the shot. Taking a deep breath, Keats launched the fish head into the air.

Henry leaned forward to catch it the only
way he could—with his mouth. His teeth clamped down on the fish head and the ticket inside.

Right away, the sign stopped beeping and blinking. Henry slid down the wall to the floor.
Click! Click!
The claws unclamped from his clothes.

“Blech,” Henry said. He spit out the fish head and wiped the scales off his tongue. But then he grinned. “Nice shot, Keats. Next time we’re on the court, I want you on my team.”

“Sounds good,” Keats said with a smile. He picked up his shopping bag so Henry could drop the octopus legs inside.

“We just need one more thing for the potion,” Henry said. “Nacho cheese dip.”

Keats nodded and took out the map of the store.

“Uh-oh,” Henry said as Keats’s face went white. “What is it now?”

“The nacho cheese dip is in the snack aisle,” Keats said miserably. “Right next to the cheese puffs … and the slugs!”

6
CHECK BACK SOON!

CARRYING THEIR BAGS
, the cousins ran along the store’s back wall toward the snack aisle.

On the way, an angry snowman made of frozen yogurt hurled ice cubes at them from the freezer section. Boxes of cornflakes exploded on the cereal shelves. Everywhere the smell of mothballs was growing stronger.

“We better hurry,” Keats said.

When they reached the end of the snack
aisle, Henry and Keats peeked around the corner.

The slugs swarmed the shelves just a few feet away. Their eyes were closed as they focused on gobbling up the snacks. Only a couple of cheese-puff bags remained.

Keats pulled Henry back out of the snack aisle.

“There are at least thirty slugs now!” he whispered. “Where are they coming from?”

“No idea,” Henry said. “But let’s mix up the rest of the potion right here. Then we can just toss in the dip when we get it.”

The recipe called for warm milk, so Keats put the milk carton under his armpit. Meanwhile, Henry poured the barbecue sauce and molasses into one of the bags. Then he squished up the clementines and octopus legs and threw them in, too. When Keats
added the milk, the bag bulged with an orange paste.

“You ready?” Henry asked.

Keats nodded. Carrying the shopping bag, he followed Henry into the aisle. They tiptoed near the slugs. The cousins were careful not to make a sound, then—

SCRUNCH!
Keats’s foot crinkled on an empty snack wrapper. He winced. And waited for the slugs to attack.

Luckily, the slugs were still too intent on eating to notice.

Henry stepped closer to the shelves of dips. He read the labels in a low voice. “Artichoke dip, chocolate dip, egg cream dip … Wait.…” He trailed off.

“What is it?” Keats whispered.

Henry pointed at the shelf labeled
NACHO CHEESE DIP
. On it sat a card with a picture of a
grinning purple rabbit. The card said
SORRY! WE’RE BUSY RESTOCKING THIS ITEM! PLEASE CHECK BACK SOON!

“Check back soon?” Keats’s voice cracked. “We don’t have soon! And we can’t make the potion without the dip!”

Behind him, with a chorus of burps and lip smacking, the slugs finished off the last bag of cheese puffs.

Their baseball-sized eyes opened slowly. They turned their dark gaze on Henry and Keats. Squirt and the other slugs dropped from the shelves to the floor with a squishy
plop! plop!

“Run!” Keats yelled.

Too late. Wriggling fast, the slugs surrounded the cousins. Keats and Henry couldn’t jump over this many slugs. They were trapped.

Henry kicked the bottom shelf. “Why are
they mad at
us
?” he asked. “It’s not our fault the only cheese puffs left in town are at the picnic! We didn’t—”

“SPLURP!” Squirt yelled. And then he added, “Splarb!”

Keats shivered. What scary thing was Squirt ordering the slugs to do next?

The thirty slugs lifted their heads. As one, they smelled the air. They made deep loud sniffs, again and again.

“Uh … okay, this is weird,” Henry said. “Are they going to sneeze us to death?”

Their heads jerked to the side, as if catching a special scent. They smelled the air a few more times. Then the slugs oozed away toward the front of the store.

“What are they doing?” Keats asked.

Keats and Henry followed the slugs and found them banging on the locked front door.
It didn’t budge. The slugs turned to the huge window that faced the parking lot. They knocked their eyestalks on the thick glass and pressed their weight up against it.

“Woo-hoo!” Henry jumped around. “The slugs are trying to leave! We’re safe!”

Henry put up his hand for a high five. But Keats didn’t meet it. Something was wrong.…

“Don’t worry, Keats,” Henry said. “We gave the job our best shot.”

“That’s not the problem,” Keats said. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.… It was right in front of his nose.…

Then it hit him. “Fingers! Noses!” Keats yelped. “Henry, we have to keep the slugs here!”

“Are you nuts?” Henry said.

“We can’t let them leave,” Keats insisted. “The slugs are headed to the picnic! Think about it. People at the picnic have been eating
cheese puffs all day. They have cheesy powder all over their fingers and faces.”

Now Henry got it. “They’ll be in real trouble if a bunch of hungry giant slugs show up. We have to stop them!”

The cousins sprang into action.

Keats pointed to the pay phone near the front doors. “I’ll call for help,” he said.

“And I’ll keep the slugs busy,” Henry said. He jumped on the back of the shopping cart and wheeled around the slugs. He came just close enough to get their attention, but he managed to avoid their snapping jaws.

Henry said, “Get to the phone, Keats!”

Dropping the shopping bag, Keats dashed around the corner toward the front doors—

And right into a puddle of slug slime. His feet slipped out from under him.

“Umph!” Keats fell onto his side.

“Keats!” Henry called. “You might want to hurry!”

Still on the floor, Keats looked back. Several slugs had grabbed the front of Henry’s shopping cart with their teeth. They shook
their heads and Henry was thrown off. He landed near a pile of shopping bags.

The slugs lifted the shopping cart. Like a catapult, they flung it at the window. The cart bounced off, but the glass cracked.

“We’re running out of time!” Henry yelled.

Keats got to his feet. The slime puddle sat between him and the phone. He backed up and took a running jump. He almost made it. But not quite. He landed with a splash in the slime. Somehow, though, he stayed on his feet. He stumbled toward the pay phone. He reached for it—

Keats’s hand grabbed at air. The receiver was gone. A torn cord dangled from the wall. Maybe the receiver had run off with the office phone. Or maybe the slugs had eaten it. Either way, they needed a new plan.

“Henry!” Keats waded back through slime. “There’s no phone!”

The slugs rammed the cart into the window again. This time it smashed through the glass, leaving a giant hole. The slugs chattered happily as they crawled through to the parking lot.

Stunned, Keats and Henry watched as Squirt sniffed the air once more. Then he shouted a command, “Splurp!” He and the other slugs lowered their eyestalks against their heads. They tucked their bodies into balls.

“Splarb!” Squirt yelled.

The slugs rolled out of the parking lot and down Main Street. They were moving downhill, heading straight for the park. Even if Henry and Keats ran to get their bikes, they wouldn’t be able to catch up. Or warn the people at the picnic.

The cousins looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“This definitely isn’t good,” Henry said.

7
STAMPEDE!

“WHAT CAN WE
do?” Keats said. “Everyone in the park is in danger!”

Henry searched the tattered snack bags on the floor. “If we had more cheese puffs, maybe we could distract the slugs.”

“
If
,” Keats repeated. “The cheese puffs are all gone!” To make the point, he waved around an empty wrapper. Then he stopped. The orange wrapper reminded him of something.

“Too bad we can’t make more puffs, right?” Henry said.

“Maybe we can!” Keats said. He ran to where he’d dropped the shopping bag. He held the top closed and shook it to mix up the ingredients again.

Henry watched, frowning. “Uh, Keats,” he said, “the potion won’t work without the dip. Plus that stuff stinks!”

Keats ignored him. He scooped both hands into the orange slop. It slid through his fingers like a mix of rotten bananas and old tuna fish. He gritted his teeth—and smeared it all over his arms.

“Keats!” Henry shouted. “Stop!”

Keats still didn’t listen. He wiped the sticky paste over his clothes, on his face, and in his hair.

“Follow me,” Keats said when he was done. Leaving orange footprints, he climbed out the
broken window to the parking lot. He rushed to the shopping cart thrown by the slugs. He turned it upright.

Henry stormed over to him. “What are you doing with Thunder?” he demanded. “Why’d you put that junk all over yourself? Answer me!”