Scatman Dues (Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Book 6) by Margaret Lashley (ereader for android TXT) 📕

in their right mind would dare to tread!”

“Exactly,” I said.

Grayson shook his head. “Ingenious. Having them run across hot coals as the baby steps to the ultimate leap of faith.”

“And this may just be the latest batch,” I said.

“What do you mean?” Grayson asked.

“This could’ve been going on a long time. Think about it. The Native Americans named this Whirlwind Trail. What does it look like when someone’s sucked up into a portal?”

Grayson locked his green eyes on me. “Like they went up in a whirlwind.”

Chapter Sixty-One

We returned to the compound to find a box leaned up against the chain-link gate. Garth hopped out of the back of Bessie and dragged it out of the way, then hit the secret code to open the chain-link barricade.

“Uh, some help over here?” Garth called out as Grayson parked the truck. I hopped out and saw the little nerd trying to pull the two-foot square, six-foot long box up the driveway.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“I dunno,” Garth said. “It’s for Commander Grayson.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to call him that.”

“No,” Garth said. “That’s what’s written on the Amazon shipping label.” He turned to Grayson, who was walking up to join us. “Is it some kind of secret weapon? A missile, maybe?”

“No,” Grayson said. “It’s my new mattress.” He picked up the box like it was full of feathers, and marched toward the picnic table.

Garth and I scrambled after him.

“Now that we’ve located the portal, we need to figure out how to seal it shut for good,” Grayson said, laying the box on the picnic table. “Any ideas?”

“Uh ... none off the top of my head,” I said.

Grayson took out a pocketknife and slit the box open. The mattress burst out of the split seam like a busted roll of Pillsbury biscuit dough. It unfurled and sucked in air until it flattened out and had completely covered the table top.

“That’s it,” Grayson said. “What we need is the rapid expansion in volume associated with an extremely vigorous outward release of energy.”

“Huh?” I grunted.

He grinned. “We need to blow the portal up!”

I SENSED SERIOUS TROUBLE.

Grayson had set up his whiteboard and filled it from top to bottom with the kind of math formulas that caused the common man to lapse into drooling brain comas.

“Uh ... what’s going on here?” I asked, not really wanting to know.

“This is a diagram on how we’re going to obtain enough red phosphorous to blow up the portal.”

“Oh,” I said. “Isn’t red phosphorous the stuff they use in fireworks?”

“Correct,” Grayson said. “But I figure we’ll need a few tons of it.”

“How are you going to come by that stuff? Order it on Amazon?”

“I looked. They don’t have it in stock. We’re going to have to make our own by heating common white phosphorous to 482 degrees.”

“With what?” I quipped. “A flame thrower?”

“Oh!” Garth said, raising his hand. “We’ve got a couple of those!”

“Excellent,” Grayson said.

“But Mr. Gray,” Garth said, “Isn’t white phosphorous poisonous and highly combustible when in contact with air?”

“I sure hope so,” Grayson said. “Because I’m counting on it.”

“Uh ... Grayson, I just want to put in my bid for not being the one who has to strike the match on this fiasco.”

“No need. We’ll be using the built-up static-electric charge of the black phosphorous as a detonator.”

“Oh, sure,” I said. “Makes perfect sense to me.”

Not.

“Okay, troops,” Grayson said. “Now all we need is a covert vehicle to transport ourselves and our supplies to the portal site.”

“Well, you can forget the RV,” I said. “It’d never make it. Besides, Earl’s still locked in there.”

“What about Earl’s monster truck?” Jimmy asked.

“No,” Grayson said. “We can’t risk explosion blowback through the windows. We need something with an enclosed passenger capsule. Something impenetrable that can make it through swampy terrain and up sandy ridges.”

The brothers exchanged glances. Then they nodded and shook hands.

Jimmy locked eyes with Grayson. “I think we’ve got just the vehicle. Follow me!”

WE FOLLOWED JIMMY AND Garth along a narrow, weedy trail behind their trailer that wove its way around various heaps of rusting junk. Finally, we arrived at a large, aluminum shed. Jimmy opened the padlock on the door and raised the hangar door.

My mouth fell open.

“Pandora and Mr. Gray, meet Bimbo!” Garth said proudly.

“Bimbo?” I asked, staring at the strange vehicle that looked like the bastard child of a weekend bender between a jeep, a jet, and a WWII tank.

“BIMBO stands for Biological Impact Mobile Bug-Out,” Jimmy said. “We built it ourselves.”

Bug-out was right. The contraption looked like a flattened mechanical beetle on tank treads.

“We modeled it after the most indestructible organism on the planet,” Jimmy said.

Grayson’s brow furrowed. “Tartagrades?”

Jimmy shook his head. “No. Cockroaches. They’ve been around since the dinosaurs. They’ve survived everything from extinction events to nuclear blasts.”

“Intriguing,” Grayson said, walking around BIMBO as if performing a military inspection. “I see it’s equipped with tank treads for all-terrain travel.”

“Yes sir,” Jimmy said. “Steel plated with chain-link traction!”

“Armor-plated passenger transport?”

“Complete with aeration fan and a week’s water supply!”

“Periscope?” Grayson asked.

“Dual action, with night-vision capabilities!”

“Cargo space?”

“No,” Garth said. “Car go road. But it can really burn up the asphalt, can’t it Jimmy!”

Chapter Sixty-Two

The sun was hanging low in the sky. I wondered if I’d see another sunset. Soon, I’d be climbing into a giant cockroach packed with a ton of highly combustible materials and three trigger-happy guys toting flame throwers.

I should’ve eaten that damned Tootsie Pop.

I needed to say goodbye to Earl, just in case this was, you know, the last time I’d ever see him.

I picked up Grayson’s pointer stick and walked over to the dilapidated old RV. I tapped the charcoal-stained end on the window above the banquette.

The blinds moved. Eyes peeking out between them.

“Hey, Earl,” I called out.

He yanked up the blinds and stared at me through the window. Even though the pane was open, the window frame was too small to allow Earl’s girth to escape from between it.

“Lemme out,” he said.

“I