King of the Mutants Page 11

  I gulped. “How many kids have you done this to?”

  “Oh, I don’t know fifty or a hundred, maybe two hundred. I can’t be sure because very few of them survive the process.”

  “You have that many children?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Silly boy, I’ve only fathered two. Just you and Freddie—”

  “But w-w-where do you get the rest of the kids?”

  “All over the place,” psycho-doc said with a laugh. “Ever check out the back of a milk carton?”

  Everything seemed too farfetched to be true. It took a minute to process what Greizenheimer had said. But what I’d come to understand was that this lunatic kidnapped children, and put them in some kind of mutant incubation program. Some of them survived, some of them got away like Freddie, but most of them died. And it was all so he could experiment on people to give wealthy jerks like Ashby super powers?

  The nightmare I’d had suddenly made total sense. Serafine’s vision about me becoming King of the Mutants was clear. It was up to Freddie and me to save the remaining kids in this creepy program and stop the doctor’s work.

  Except my brother wasn’t exactly looking up to the challenge.

  Freddie’s eyes bulged out of his head in anger as if he was being squeezed like that Bug Out Bob stress relief toy. His whole body trembled. His mouth twitched. He scrambled up off the ground and lunged toward Greizenheimer, doing this crazy windmill arm movement. He pummeled the crazed doctor repeatedly with his tiny fists.

  Greizenheimer was totally taken by surprise. He held up his arms and tried to protect himself from the physical onslaught. And then Freddie did what I would have given my tail to do. He wound up his left arm and popped the doctor right in the eye. Freddie may have floated like a butterfly; but it was clear, when mad, he could sting like a bee.

  Ashby raced to Greizenheimer’s defense. He jumped over my king sized bed like a horse, tackled Freddie, bringing my friend, no, my brother, to the ground. Freddie went limp in his death grip. Ashby threw an evil smirk in my direction. “Try anything stupid and I’ll bash your brother’s brain into a pulp.”

  “See, see how strong and agile Ashby is?” said the Doc, trying to pull himself together. He smoothed out his hair. “Your new DNA, when altered by my brilliant experiments, has helped me isolate specific traits. He’s as strong as a gorilla, smart as a fox, and graceful as a gazelle.”

  Ashby straightened his back, proud.

  Greizenheimer’s mouth twisted into an evil smirk.

  “You boys are really going to regret going head-to-head with me. Freddie may not have been strong enough when he was younger to survive the incubation period, but clearly things have changed. And now, I have new plans for both of you,” said Greizenheimer, eyeing Freddie wickedly.

  My heart catapulted into my stomach.

  “But—” began Ashby.

  Greizenheimer cut him off before he could utter another word. “Ashby, I’ve made up mind. Take Freddie, their things, and that monstrosity of a dog to my Phantom, and no more arguments. We don’t want any evidence of their existence. I’ll destroy it all in the incinerator at the research center.”

  Greizenheimer turned his undesired attention back on me. “Maverick, get dressed and meet me downstairs in the foyer. I’ll give you ten minutes, no more.” Before he left the room, he threatened, “And remember, if you don’t want Ashby to snap Freddie’s neck like a chicken’s, no funny stuff.”

  With one swift hand, Ashby grabbed the new guitar Serafine had given me and my duffle bag. He forced Freddie out of the room with a kick. Freddie shot me a panicked look from the doorway.

  I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. I was immobile. I stayed in bed for about two minutes, trying to digest everything. The sticky sweat from last night’s bad dream was a reminder my nightmare was only beginning. I couldn’t just take things lying down. I jumped out of bed and showered quickly, keeping the water cold. I needed to be awake and at my best.

  I threw on Ashby’s hand-me-downs, shuddering. I couldn’t believe the jerk set us up the way he did. Muttering every curse word under the sun, I made my way downstairs.

  Greizenheimer sat in an ornate gold armchair in the foyer, puffing on a cigar. When I approached him, he blew stinky smoke into my face and I gagged. If appearances were deceiving, this man was the master of disguise. I didn’t think someone who looked almost normal could be so insanely evil. He extinguished his cigar and it smoldered in the crystal ashtray. Dad or not, I was tempted to pick it up and burn him on the forehead with it. But before I could find my nerve, he got up, grabbed me by the arm, and pushed me toward the elevator.

  “You never answered me, Maverick,” said Greizenheimer. “Did Grumbling tell you how to find me?”

  Freddie sure had done a number on him. I was glad to see the beginnings of a big purple bruise encircling his left eye socket. It took every ounce of my willpower from attempting to make the other one match. A tingle in my tail told me to wait. I needed to trust the feeling this time.

  “Burt didn’t tell me about you,” I explained sullenly as we got into the elevator. “I overheard him talking to Yorgi when I was hiding.”

  “And what pray-tell was it that you heard, my little lizard?”

  “That I was hatched from an egg in Dr. Greizenheimer’s laboratory in New York.” The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. “That’s it.”

  Greizenheimer let out a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s not all entirely untrue. You were hatched from a pod, in a matter of speaking, during your re-birth.”

  “Re-birth?” I repeated the word in my head. This was completely crazy.

  “Yes, but you were a mistake, not quite up to par and an utter annoyance. Which is why I sold you to Grumbling for a mere two thousand dollars. You’ll see in moments, Maverick. You’ll see my work. My creations.”

  “It’s the last the thing I want to do,” I mumbled.

  He gripped my arm tightly and spat, “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s impolite to speak unless you’re spoken too?”

  My shoulders sank. The tears welled up. I couldn’t have stopped them from flowing down my face if I tried.

  “Oh, forgive me. I forgot,” he said. “Such a pity, your mother is dead.”

  For a moment, I thought Greizenheimer was showing compassion, but then I noticed the glint of evil in his eyes and his entire demeanor changed. “Now, NO MORE TALKING!”

  The deranged psycho led me out of Ashby’s building to a black Rolls Royce with red leather interior—a Phantom. Snaggletooth peered at me from the back window, his heavy pants fogging up the glass. That was when I noticed the license plates on the ostentatious vehicle.

  Four letters—H.E.L.L.

  Great, I thought, I’m going for a ride with the Devil at the wheel.

  I threw up in my mouth.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HOW TO MAKE A MUTANT

  Nobody said a word in the car. That jerk-a-holic Ashby sat up front with Greizenheimer and hummed out of tune to some lame pop song. Each time he sang the chorus—Baby, baby, ooh—I was tempted to take my shoelaces off and strangle his neck. But psycho-doc was eyeing me in the rear-view mirror. Defeated, I stared glumly out the window. With all my heart, I prayed that things would work out for Freddie, Snaggletooth, and me.

  On the streets, thousands of people rushed about—oblivious to our predicament. I wondered where everybody was going. I also wondered what they would have said if they knew what Greizenheimer was up to. Suddenly, I felt insignificant and small. Nobody would miss me. Besides Serafine, Darling, Mr. White, and Mr. Black, there wasn’t a single soul on the planet who even knew or cared where I was, what plans fate had for me. Feeling sorry for myself, still staring out the window, we passed an Apple store. I remembered the iPhone Darling had given Freddie.

  The duffle bag with all our gear in it lay on the floor by Freddie, who was slumped down into his seat, muttering to himself
like a crazy person.

  Drastic measures needed to be taken.

  Now I’m not the best actor in the world, but I pretended like I was getting carsick, and I screamed, “Roll down the window. I’m gonna hurl!” And then I made barf noises and rocked my body back and forth. Freddie immediately snapped out of his crazed stupor. I shot Freddie a half wink and mouthed, “phone” during my big charade.

  “No puking in the car,” bellowed Greizenheimer. “If you don’t get yourself under control I will skin that hide of yours—”

  “I-I-I need air,” I faux wheezed. “Could you please roll the window down? Please? Just a crack?”

  Smart as a whip, Freddie pretended he was getting sick too. He crouched over and joined me in my symphony of disgusting sounds. Looking back on it, our charade was very creative because while Freddie was hunched over, he was able to grab the phone out of the bag and shove it into his pocket.

  The car lurched forward, made a left turn, and was brought to a screeching halt.

  “Everybody out,” Greizenheimer bellowed. I caught a glimpse of Greizenheimer in the mirror. He scowled at me with a sickly expression. “That is everybody except for you, Ashby. I want you to take the Phantom and get her detailed. I can’t stand the thought of these disgusting kids and that horrible excuse for a dog sitting in the back seat. Just park the car in my garage when you’re finished and then be on your way. ”

  Apparently, I wasn’t as bad of an actor as I’d thought.

  “But—” began Ashby.

  “I have no need for you here,” Greizenheimer said. He dismissed Ashby with an impatient flick of his skinny wrist.

  One jerk down, one to go.

  I couldn’t wait for the opportunity to overtake this madman and I thought with Ashby out of our hair, maybe we stood a chance. That was until two large men approached the car, opened the door, and dragged us kids onto the sidewalk. These men were super-villain strong. To them, we were like soggy napkins being tossed aside after they blew their nose.

  One guy was built like the Hulk, the other, like the Rock. Black tribal tattoos covered their bodies, including their faces. Shaved into a pattern, their hair was dyed black. The Hulk guy’s ears were pierced like an African tribesman. Two-inch plastic green circles with teeth stretched out his earlobes so far I could see right through his lobes to the street on the other side. The other guy was so hairy; he reminded me of a tattooed wooly mammoth.

  Greizenheimer nodded at his men. “Take them inside to the viewing station and grab their things from the car,” he barked. Then he turned on his heel like a trained marine and stormed into a building.

  I watched him enter the five-story tall metal fortress. The doors were stainless steel and opened magically. In fact, the whole building seemed like it came from the future. Emblazoned into the doors over a freaky octopus crest, it said, “Human Engineering Learning Laboratory: Vanderholt/Greizenheimer Research Foundation.”

  H.E.L.L.

  It all made sense.

  Well, sort of.

  The street was crowded with well-heeled trendsetters, but nobody noticed us. They rushed down the sidewalk lost in their own worlds. All sorts of shops and restaurants surrounded his building. It was one of the hippest areas in all of Manhattan filled with all the players—magazine editors, literary agents, movie stars, rock stars, actors, and models. Then, I saw a sign for a butcher shop. Fresh meat.

  I wanted to scream, but my breath was nowhere to be found. I choked back my terror.

  We were so doomed.

  Greizenheimer’s goons grabbed us like we were sacks of potatoes and threw us over their shoulders. One had me and our stuff, the other carried Snaggletooth and Freddie. Hairy guy’s massive bones dug into my stomach and it knocked the wind out of me. Why these lugs wanted to carry us, I hadn’t a clue. I mean, we could have walked, but evidently we weren’t going to be given a choice in the matter. While I struggled in discomfort, I noticed my captor’s back. It was like mine. The reptilian ridges weren’t as prominent, but they were there.

  I had to get this guy on my side somehow. Surely he would understand me. Who knew? Maybe it was my blood that had given him his traits? “What’s your name?” I asked as nicely as possible. “I’m a lot like you, I think. Part alligator—”

  “Shuddup,” he said, his voice raised in a high-pitched girlish shrill.

  Another person who boggled my mind with false appearances.

  “The Doc says no talking and I go by his rules.”

  “Sorry,” I said, even though I wasn’t.

  “Forgetaboutit.”

  We entered the building.

  I hated to admit it, but the laboratory was pretty awesome.

  Like a wacked out funhouse, everything was an optical illusion. Iron wall sconces lit the long, undulating mirrored hallway like a wall of reflective waves. It seemed like the entry way went on and on. As the creepy light flickered on the walls, I caught multiple glimpses of my terrified reflection. In one of them, my face and body were squashed. In another, I was elongated. Under different circumstances the place would have been killer cool.

  Freddie hung limply on goon number two’s body. I wanted to get his attention, but unless I wanted to be crushed like a giant cockroach by my thug’s python arms, I knew it wasn’t the time to make any rash decisions or sudden movements. Serafine had said I needed to trust my instincts. And that was exactly what I was going to do.

  Finally, our captors put us down. We stood in front of a glass elevator. Green spots danced in front my eyes. As I tried to blink the floaters away, one of the gorillas picked up Snaggletooth and roughly stroked his head with his gorilla-sized hands. “Nice doggy,” he said with a goofy, crooked smile.

  I realized he was an idiot. Maybe our escape wouldn’t be difficult after all?

  “What’s your name?” I asked nonchalantly.

  “Tony,” he answered. He snuggled up to Snaggletooth’s head like he was a stuffed animal. Seemed my dog had broken the ice with him. “And that’s Richie.”

  “Good to meet ya,” I said.

  “Didn’t we tell ya to shuddup?” hissed Richie. He glared at his partner in crime, and then flexed his muscles, which rippled like a rollercoaster ride. “You’re going to get us in trouble with the Doc and that wouldn’t be good.”

  The elevator doors opened and we were roughly pushed into it. Crammed in like sardines, I could barely breathe. My stomach twisted into tight knots. Honestly, I didn’t care what happened to me. But Freddie? His expression begged for escape. I had to do something. I mouthed “phone” to Freddie again.

  “No signal. Been trying,” he whispered.

  “Shuddup or I’ll pound you like a piece of cheap meat,” snarled Richie.

  Doctor Greizenheimer sat in a big black chair when we entered the viewing station. One wall was entirely made of thick glass—the kind you’d find at zoo. The other had vintage posters of famous human marvels. In the center of that wall, I noticed a small elevator. I wanted to make a run for it.

  The evil doctor spun around in his chair to face us. “Tony, Richie, leave me with our guests. I’ll ring for you when I require your, um, services.”

  “Boss,” said Tony. “Can I keep the dog? I think he likes me.”

  Greizenheimer nodded at Tony. “Whatever, you moron. Just get the abomination out of my sight.”

  With a nervous half-smile and a weird high-pitched giggle, Tony picked up Snaggletooth and followed Richie into the awaiting elevator. Snaggletooth whimpered as the doors shut. I was just about to protest when Greizenheimer shot me a maddening scowl that would have silenced anybody with half a brain.

  “Welcome to H.E.L.L.” hissed the doctor. “I wanted you to see firsthand what I’ll be doing to both of you.” He pointed to the large window. “Have yourselves a little gander.”

  I wished we’d never left the elevator because what we saw next shook my entire core.

  Freddie and I walked over to
the glass wall. Almost immediately, Freddie threw up on my shoes, and me, I had to restrain myself from gagging. Turns out, my nightmare about the freakishly mutated kids was not only real, but also way worse than I ever could have imaged.

  One floor below us, a woman that appeared to be fifteen hundred pounds of lard was shaking and vibrating on a large metal table, her flab undulating like waves. The back of her head was bulbous and she was nearly bald—just a few long pieces of blondish hair growing out on the top. It looked like somebody had taken a black Sharpie marker and drew a circle on her face because there was a huge black mole on it, the size of a silver dollar. Out of the mole, long black hairs waved in a breeze.

  Now it wasn’t her size or appearance that freaked me out. What had me mortified were the octopus-like tentacles growing out of her stomach. Attached to the tentacles were giant ostrich-sized, egg-shaped pods. And in these pods? There were mutated children, at least twenty of them.

  From my vantage point, only a few of the kids could be seen. And they were far more advanced in their freakiness than me. One was submerged in a water-filled pod and had giant flippers instead of arms. Another squat, hair-covered one was shaking his or her pod like a gorilla. I couldn’t tell if the kid was a boy or a girl. An annoying loud buzz resonated the room, and suddenly, this bug-eyed fly boy zipped by the window, and flew back into his pod. On the floor, a kangaroo girl hopped around, punching pods. In her pouch, two little human hands waved frantically.

  Nothing could have prepared me to deal with the things I now witnessed. My legs went to Jell-o. Freddie just stared straight ahead, his jaw dropped open, mumbling incoherently.

  Doctor Greizenheimer’s voice knocked me out of my shocked state.

  “Freddie, close your trap or I’ll turn you into a rat,” he bellowed. “How uncouth! It’s bad enough you puked all over the carpet. Richie and Tony aren’t going to be very happy cleaning that up. Didn’t you learn anything when you hung around with Ashby?” Proudly, Greizenheimer turned to the window. He rubbed his hands. “Not all of them are quite ready yet, my little guinea pigs. Oh, but soon their blood will transform the rich with their powers.”