Chapter 2

chapter two It feels like the entire world explodes. Any moment, I expect my body will break. First, there will be the impaling. Followed by the crushing. And then, finally, the liquefying. But that doesn't happen. I am neither impaled, crushed, or liquefied. Because we're not being run over—not exactly. Instead, we've been vacuumed up, into the darkness of the Mallusk's underside. See, this is why I hate vacuuming.

I quickly lose track of my friends—it's impossible to see anything but the millions of needle-like hairs that cover the Mallusk's massive pincer legs. I try to call out to them, but the instant I open my mouth, the air is ripped from my lungs. It's like I'm inside a tornado. I faintly hear Alfred groaning. I squint back, just as he's yanked from the BoomKart and pulled into the swirling storm created by the rapid movement of the Mallusk's legs. Glurm and Lefty are snatched next, disappearing amidst the pounding pincers. Then— SNAP! My seat belt pops and I'm hurled from the BoomKart! I'm suddenly like an astronaut, alone in space—only I don't have one of those neato cords tethering me to the ship. There is zero tethering happening here. A tiny flicker of light, high above me, catches my eye. I realize I'm being hurled toward it with the Mallusk's every pulsating movement. This is probably gonna not be great, I think as I'm propelled toward a pulsing hole that looks to be roughly the width of a Pringles can. The vacuum suction increases until— FA-FOOM!

I'm shot through the hole, rocketed out of the world of Mallusk legs and pincers—and rocketed into something that looks and feels like lime Jell-O. My eyes are open, but the goo doesn't sting the way the chlorine in a motel swimming pool does. I continue upward, through the Jell-O, blasting past... I manage to twist in the green goo, avoiding a crunched-up, mangled gas pump—probably devoured moments earlier by the Mallusk, an unleaded afternoon snack. Then, finally, one last violent push and— SPLOOSH!

My head and shoulders burst through the surface. After a quick gasp for air— "JUNE! QUINT! DIRK!" I shout. "Where are you?" The answer comes in the form of three sudden splashes. One by one, my friends erupt through the surface—gasping, coughing, spitting. Well, that was a strange trip through a strange parfait. I was thinking the same thing, but not parfait. I was thinking of the ice cream one with the chocolate crunchies, Carvel Ice cream cake. The greatest of all cakes. Enough with the cakes. I've got a problem, "Dirk..." I start. I'm suddenly feeling sick—and it has nothing to do with the gallon of goo I swallowed. "Where's Drooler?" Dirk's chin trembles as he looks at me. "I... I don't know. We got separated back there."

That's when I realize Drooler isn't the only missing member of our little adventure crew: my Zombie Squad isn't here, either. But I see the aching, awful look on Dirk's face—and I decide not to say anything. Alfred, Lefty, and Glurm are, y'know, undead—they could get pulled through a dozen Mallusks and be OK. They'll turn up. But Drooler? I'm not so sure. "I held on to Drooler as tight as I could, and that's really tight," Dirk says. "But my sword got pulled away, so then he got pulled away, and now... Where is he?!" I'm worried Dirk is going to go into full-on meltdown mode, until he adds, "I will personally punch every dumb pincer on this thing until I get Drooler back!" That sounds more like the Dirk we know and love. "Drooler must be somewhere," June says. Quint nods. "We'll find him." I wipe more goo from my eyes—and see we're in a dimly lit, cavernous chamber. Junk churns around us like we're in a garbage Jacuzzi. A mailbox bobs past us, followed by battered stop signs and deflated pool floaties. "I think we were sucked up into the Mallusk's gastrointestinal tract," Quint explains as he paddles toward me. "Or some variation thereof." "Lovely..." June says, flicking a fleshy gunk wad off her shoulder.

"Which means this, here, is the uprooted underside of the Millennium Super Mall," Quint says, pointing to the cracked concrete and jagged pipes that cover the ceiling. "The Mallusk's exoskeleton must have fused with—" YEE-ARRRNK! A monstrous bellow suddenly echoes through the chamber. "Watch out!" June cries. She reels in the goo as a long, thick hose suddenly bursts out of the darkness! "Whoa! Hose thing!" I cry, then— SPLOOSH! The hose stabs into the pool. Two more follow. My friends and I are huddled together, nervously bobbing as the hoses poke around in the goo. Soon, each hose finds a piece of scrap, wraps around it, then pulls it from the pool. "Those aren't hoses..." June says. Our eyes have begun to adjust to the darkness, and it's clear they're actually the trunks of some strange new creature. And now those trunks are coming back, wrapping around us, hauling us away...