Legend of the Lost Legend

  She didn’t hear me. She kept running toward the trees.

  “Wait up! I’ll be right there!” I called. I picked up a few handfuls of mice and clicked them off. Then I shoved them into my backpack.

  These will be awesome for playing jokes on people back home! I told myself. They’re so lifelike. Can you imagine the fun I’ll have with these in Miss Olsen’s class?

  I shoved eight or nine more of them into the pack and closed it up. Then I climbed to my feet and ran after my sister.

  I glanced back once — and saw the mice, thousands of them, crawling over each other, crawling in wild circles through the grass.

  Then I turned and ran, following Marissa into the safety of the white-trunked trees. Ran full-speed. Ran blindly.

  So eager to get away from that clearing and the squeaking, scurrying mice.

  “Marissa — wait up!” I called.

  She was far ahead, running fast.

  “Wait up!” I called.

  And then I uttered a sharp cry as I ran — full-force — into a tree.

  “Oooof!”

  I felt the air burst from my lungs. I saw stars. Red and yellow stars, dancing in a pure white sky.

  Gasping for breath, I reached for the tree trunk.

  I heard a cracking sound.

  So loud. And close.

  The tree!

  The tree I had run into — it started to fall!

  “Look out — !” I called to my sister.

  Too late.

  As I stared helplessly, the tall, white tree collapsed.

  Marissa’s hands shot up as the tree fell on her.

  And crushed her beneath its heavy trunk.

  “Nooooo!” I let out a howl of horror. And stared down at my sister.

  Marissa lay sprawled facedown in the dirt. The tree trunk had crushed her back and shoulders.

  Was she breathing?

  I couldn’t tell.

  “Marissa — !” I choked out her name and dropped down beside her. “I — I — ”

  I saw her body give a hard shake.

  She raised her head and squinted up at me. “What happened?” Her words came out in a whisper.

  “Does it hurt?” I cried. “Are you in pain?”

  She squinted harder, as if thinking about it. “No. No pain.” Marissa rolled onto her back. Then she reached up with both hands — and shoved the tree trunk off her.

  “Huh?” I let out a startled cry.

  I saw the bewildered expression on my sister’s face. “It’s fake, too,” she murmured.

  She reached out and tugged off a chunk of the tree trunk. “It’s plaster or something,” she announced. “Check it out, Justin.”

  My hand was trembling as I tore off a piece of the trunk. I was still shaking all over from the sight of Marissa falling under the tree.

  I squeezed the chunk of tree, and it turned to powder in my hand. I pulled off another hunk. Soft plaster.

  Marissa climbed to her feet. She brushed the plaster dust off her clothes. “It’s a total fake,” she murmured again.

  “Do you think the trees are all fake?” I cried. “The whole forest?”

  I got up. Then I took a running start. Stuck both hands straight out in front of me …

  And ran as hard as I could, shoving my hands against a tree.

  The trunk cracked easily. I stood shaking my head in amazement as the tree toppled over. It hit another tree and knocked that one down, too. The plaster trunks cracked and shattered as they hit the ground.

  “Fake. It’s all a fake!” Marissa declared. A smile spread over her face. “That looks like fun.”

  She took a running start, aiming at a tree across from the others.

  “No! Not that one!” I screamed.

  I guess Marissa couldn’t stop in time. She slammed her shoulder into the tree. “Yaaaay!” She raised both fists over her head in triumph as the tree toppled over.

  But she didn’t have much time to cheer.

  As the white trunk fell, I heard the hard flutter of wings.

  And I watched in horror as dark forms fluttered up from the fallen limbs.

  I had seen the bats. Dozens of black bats. Clinging upside down on the tree limbs.

  I had seen them. But I hadn’t warned Marissa in time.

  And now the bats all came flapping up, chittering angrily, their sleep interrupted.

  Hissing and shrieking at us, they surrounded us — and began to circle. I could feel the warm breeze from their flapping wings.

  Faster. Faster, they circled.

  “Are they fake, too?” Marissa asked in a tiny voice.

  “I-I don’t think so,” I stammered as they swooped in for the kill.

  Marissa and I both ducked as the circle of bats swooped low.

  I shut my eyes and covered my head with my hands.

  And waited.

  The sound of a deep boom rose over the shrill chittering of the bats.

  The ground shook.

  Thunder?

  Another boom, low at first, then loud as an explosion.

  I raised my head in time to see the white trees tremble.

  The bats stopped their shrieking. Their wings shot up, stretched out.

  Another boom of thunder sent them racing back up to the sky. I watched them flutter up, rising, rising above the trees, rising against the bright sky until they seemed to disappear into the sun.

  Marissa let out a long sigh of relief. “We’re safe.” She climbed to her feet slowly.

  “But what is that sound?” I demanded, listening hard.

  Another thunderous boom. Closer this time.

  I felt the ground shake. A tree tottered, then came toppling to the ground.

  “It can’t be thunder,” Marissa said softly. She pointed to the sky. “No clouds or anything.”

  Another boom.

  Closer.

  “I-I know what it is,” I stammered.

  Marissa turned to me. Another boom shook the trees.

  “Footsteps,” I murmured. “Coming toward us. I know it’s footsteps.”

  Marissa’s mouth dropped open. “Justin — you’re letting your crazy imagination run away with you. Again!”

  “No. I’m right,” I insisted. “Footsteps.”

  My sister squinted at me. “Are you losing it? What could make footsteps that loud? It would have to be …” Her voice trailed off.

  Another boom.

  I let my crazy imagination run away with me. I couldn’t help it. I pictured a dinosaur. A Tyrannosaurus rex. Lumbering through the trees. Or maybe one of those fat ones with the long, skinny necks.

  Boooooom. Booooom.

  Or maybe two of them!

  “Whatever it is, it’s coming closer,” Marissa whispered. She shook her head. “Ivanna said this was a test of survival. But — ”

  So far, it had been a test of our running skills!

  But I didn’t care. No way I wanted to stick around to see what this giant creature was.

  As Marissa and I turned and started to run in the opposite direction, a shadow fell over us.

  I gazed up to see if clouds had blocked the sun.

  But I saw no clouds overhead.

  The shadow was cast by the creature, thundering closer and closer behind us.

  I heard trees crunching underfoot. The ground shook. The heavy footsteps boomed close behind us.

  How tall was it?

  I glanced back — but could see only quivering trees.

  Booooom. Booooom.

  My knees buckled as the ground shook under my feet.

  Marissa and I ran side by side. We hurtled through the trees as fast as we could, gasping for breath as we ran.

  But we couldn’t run out of the shadow. No matter how hard we ran, it floated over us, cold and dark.

  Booooom. Booooom.

  So close now. So close that every footstep made me leap into the air.

  My heart thudded. My temples throbbed.

  Marissa and I forced ourselves to
keep running, desperate to escape, desperate to run out from under the wide shadow that seemed to hold us prisoner.

  We ran until we reached a wide stream.

  We both stopped inches from the muddy shore. And stared down into the fast-flowing, blue water.

  “Now what?” I cried breathlessly. “Now what?”

  The shadow darkened as the creature moved over us.

  Marissa tugged my sleeve. “Look. You can see the bottom. It looks really shallow. Maybe we can walk across it. Or swim if we have to.”

  Boooom. Boooom.

  The shadow darkened.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  We stepped into the cold, clear stream.

  The water flowed faster than I thought. I stepped onto the stream’s soft bottom — and nearly lost my balance as the current swept around me.

  I grabbed Marissa’s shoulder to steady myself. We clung together for a moment, getting used to the water.

  “Brrrr.” I shivered. The water felt ice cold, even through my jeans legs.

  But it was shallow, as Marissa had said. It came up only a few inches above my boots.

  I took another step, leaning forward, trying to balance against the stream’s fast current.

  One more step. We were both halfway across the stream.

  “Oh — !” I cried out when I realized I couldn’t take the next step.

  “Hey — !” Marissa exclaimed. I saw her struggling, too. “I’m stuck!”

  “The bottom is so soft!” I cried. I worked to pull my foot up from the mud.

  Stuck. My hiking boots had sunk below the surface of the muddy bottom.

  I leaned down. And pulled. Pulled my leg up.

  It wouldn’t budge.

  I grabbed my leg with both hands and tried to tug my foot out from the muddy stream bottom.

  No.

  “We–we’re sinking!” Marissa wailed. “Justin — look! We’re sinking fast!”

  I swallowed hard. She was right. I could feel myself being pulled down. Down into the cold water, into the soft, sticky mud.

  The water came up to my knees now. It seemed to be rising quickly.

  But I knew the water wasn’t going up. I was heading down.

  “Pull off your boots and swim for it!” I instructed Marissa.

  We both bent over and struggled to reach our hiking boots.

  But they were buried too deeply in the mud.

  The water rose up over my waist. If I kept sinking, it would be over my head in a few minutes.

  Booom. Booom.

  The thundering footsteps made the water ripple.

  The dark shadow spread over the stream.

  “Justin — look!” Marissa cried. She pointed to the other shore.

  I turned to the shore — so close. But so far away.

  I squinted into the shadows to see what she was gawking at. “What is it?” I cried.

  “A big plug,” Marissa reported. “In the stream bottom. Like a bathtub drain plug. This stream isn’t real, either. It’s a fake.”

  “The water feels plenty real!” I exclaimed, feeling myself sink even deeper into the mud. “Can you reach the plug, Marissa? Maybe if you pull it up, the water will drain.”

  She leaned toward it, bending at the waist. She stretched out both hands for the ring on top of the plug. “I–I’m trying,” she groaned. “If only …”

  Boooom. Booooom.

  Marissa uttered a sigh. “I can’t! I can’t reach it! It’s too far away.”

  The cold stream water flowed against my chest. I felt myself drop farther into the muddy bottom.

  “I think we failed Ivanna’s test,” I murmured.

  “Noooo!” Marissa wailed. She began thrashing at the water with both hands, twisting her body one way, then the other.

  The deepening shadow moved over us.

  I turned back and raised my eyes to the shore.

  I saw the creatures lurching toward us.

  And opened my mouth in an ear-shattering scream of horror.

  At first I thought I was seeing black clouds, floating low over the trees.

  But then I realized the bobbing shapes were too dark to be clouds. Too dark and too solid.

  And then I saw the twin pairs of yellow eyes.

  And I recognized the shapes of the heads. And I knew I was staring at cats.

  Cats!

  Black cats. Huge heads rising over the trees. Tails curling up like smoke from chimneys.

  Two giant black cats, their paws thundering over the forest, shaking the ground and the trees. Their yellow eyes locked on Marissa and me.

  “They’re … not real!” Marissa murmured. “Not real … not real.” She had stopped thrashing the water and stood now perfectly still, staring back at the enormous cats, repeating the words like a chant.

  Trees crunched and fell. The two cats thundered their way to the shore.

  “Noooo …” A low wail escaped Marissa’s throat.

  I struggled to breathe. My chest ached. My head started to spin.

  The cats pulled back their lips in a terrifying hiss.

  I saw rows of sharp teeth. I saw their yellow eyes narrow menacingly.

  Tossing back their heads in another hiss, the creatures arched their backs. The black fur on their backs stood straight up.

  “Wh-what are they going to do?” Marissa stammered.

  I opened my mouth to answer her, but only a tiny squeak escaped.

  The water flowed past my shoulders. I raised my hands out of the water, trying to keep from sinking under.

  “Justin — what are they going to do?” she repeated in a shriek.

  We didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  Before we could even cry out, the cat heads came swooping down at us. The jaws opened wide. The curled and jagged teeth slid apart.

  I turned and tried to squirm and wriggle away. But I couldn’t move. Water splashed over my face. Then I felt teeth clamp shut on the back of my sweatshirt.

  Sputtering, gasping for breath, I felt myself lifted up. My boots made a popping sound as they were pulled from the mud.

  I felt the cat’s hot breath on my neck and the back of my head. The teeth held me firmly, plucking me up, up out of the stream.

  “Whoooooa!” I finally found my voice.

  The cat dangled me high in the air.

  My arms and legs thrashed wildly. The cat tossed its head, swinging me from side to side.

  “Helllp! Ohhh, help!” I heard my sister’s cry from nearby. I turned and saw her hoisted up by the other cat, hoisted high in the air, the cat’s jaws clamped tightly on the back of Marissa’s sweatshirt.

  I tried to call out to Marissa. But a burst of hot cat breath nearly suffocated me.

  I felt myself being lifted even higher as the cat rose up on its hind legs. A paw swung up and batted my side. The other paw batted me the other way.

  Does it think I’m a cat toy? I wondered.

  I didn’t have time to think about it.

  I twisted dizzily as the cat played with me, batting me from side to side. Then, suddenly, I found myself being lowered.

  The jaws opened.

  I was falling now.

  Into the water?

  No. I landed hard on my back on the shore. So hard, I bounced. Pain shot through my body.

  I ignored it and scrambled to my feet. My heart pounding, my whole body shaking, I tried to run.

  But the cat grabbed me up again, its jaws closing around my right shoulder.

  As I sailed back up into the air, I saw Marissa falling through the air. I heard her cry out as she hit the ground. And then I saw the other black cat bend its head, open its jaws, and drag Marissa up in the air again.

  Up — and then down. My body slammed hard on the shore. I gasped and struggled to my hands and knees. In time to be picked up again and dangled over the water.

  Marissa and I both hung over the stream.

  Then once more, we were dropped to the shore.

  “Oww!” I
bounced hard. Stared up as the cat lowered its massive head to pick me up again.

  “What are they doing?” Marissa screeched. “Why are they doing this?”

  “I know what they’re doing. They’re doing what cats always do!” I cried, feeling cold horror run down my body. “They’re playing with their food.”

  “Whooooaaa!”

  My stomach lurched as I felt myself being swooped up into the air again. A black cat’s paw swiped at me and sent me swinging.

  “They–they’re going to eat us?” Marissa called.

  “We must look like mice to them!” I shouted back.

  And then I had an idea.

  The cat tossed its head and sent me flying. It caught me between its enormous paws. The paws squeezed my middle so hard, I thought my head might pop off!

  But as I struggled to breathe, my idea gave me hope.

  Do I have time? I wondered. Can I do it — before this cat swallows me whole?

  The cat tossed me up again, then caught me between its teeth. Pain shot down my back. My whole body tingled and ached.

  With a groan, I twisted my body. I reached behind me and struggled to grab the backpack.

  If I can unzip it, I thought, maybe I can reach the mechanical mice I stuffed inside. And maybe I can switch one or two of them on. And maybe the mice will distract the two cats. And maybe Marissa and I can escape.

  Maybe, maybe, maybe.

  But I had to try something. Or else, in a few seconds, Marissa and I would be cat chow.

  The cat’s tongue swept over the back of my neck. I cried out in pain. The tongue felt as rough as sandpaper! Hot cat breath stung my neck.

  I grabbed the backpack with one hand and started to tug it around to my chest.

  But the cat opened its jaws. The rough tongue bumped me from behind. And I went flying back to the ground.

  I landed hard on my hands and knees. Pain shot through me once again. I felt like collapsing in the dirt.

  But I knew I couldn’t give up.

  The cat leaned over me, hissing each breath. Yellow eyes gleamed down at me hungrily.

  Ignoring the pain, I grabbed the backpack. I pulled the straps off my shoulder. Then I swung the pack around to my chest and gripped it tightly with both hands.

  “Got to get the mice,” I murmured out loud. “Got to get the kitty cat some mice to play with.”