Read King of the Mutants Online
Authors: Samantha Verant
Tags: #middle grade, #fantasy, #action and adventure, #science fiction, #mutants
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.”
Freddie whimpered and sunk to his knees. I knew how he felt. I was having a difficult time standing myself.
“So, children, what do you think of my life’s work? Isn’t it amazing? To think, Maverick, you could have been one of the super mutants powering the rich with your blood. Unfortunately, my experiments were less advanced, almost childlike, when I experimented on you. Yet, I intend on changing that matter now that you’re back in my fold.” He pointed at Freddie. “Yes, yes, Freddie, you’ll be bird boy, but not something as obvious as a little finch. Perhaps an eagle or an ostrich? No, an owl—a wise owl. Seeing at night would be a trait the rich could really use.”
“You’re insane,” I said. “We’d rather die than become super mutants.”
“Well, Maverick, we can make that happen if you’d like. Either way, it doesn’t matter to me. I can always get more poor kids to further my brilliant experiments,” he said with a snort. “Now follow me to my prep station. That is unless you want me to zap you with this.”
He held up a stun gun and its jolt of electricity sparked a wicked blue light. The crackling noise sent shivers down my spine. Freddie grabbed my elbow.
“I thought you were our dad?” I asked. “Why would you do this to Freddie and me?”
“Biologically speaking, yes, I am your father, but I think you’re mistaking me for someone who cares. I feel no love for you. You were simply created to serve my greater purpose. My experiments are my true love. I’m sure you understand?”
It had to be a rhetorical question. Because I didn’t understand this madman at all.
Greizenheimer turned on his heel. “Follow me. Now.”
With no other options coming to mind, Freddie and I did as we were told. We entered a narrow passageway, and after going through a set of glass doors, found ourselves in a super-sized laboratory.
On stark white walls, thousands and thousands of tubes filled with what I assumed to be blood gave the room an ominous red glow. Strange, colorful lights pulsed on the ceiling to the sound of a heartbeat. And on both sides of the lab—imprisoned within stainless steel cages—animals, insects, and reptiles of all kinds deafened us with their cries. Tigers growled, dogs barked, bees buzzed, and snakes hissed. The loudest among the bunch was a chimpanzee. From the moment he saw me, he went absolutely psychotic—whooping, shrieking, hollering, and rattling the bars on his cage.
“Chimchee,” said Doctor Freak. “Calm down, Maverick here isn’t going to harm you with his plastic teeth.”
I’d forgotten about my movie star veneers.
Greizenheimer sneered. “We wealthy can always spot a fake” He pointed to a large metal table with thick leather straps hanging off it. “Freddie, you’re going to be a part of history. Hop up on the table and let’s get you settled in.”
Terror raced through my veins like TNT—ready to explode.
Freddie rested his head on the table.
Chimchee went insane, his shrieks getting louder.
I turned my body toward the thunderous chimp. The hinges on his cage were almost loose from his frantic tugging. Although I was having difficulty concentrating because of all the noise he was making, we mutants can always spot an opportunity when the right one presents itself.
I took my plastic teeth off and smiled wickedly at Freddie. He furrowed his brows, and then his face twisted into an evil smirk.
I think my brother and I were beginning to fully understand one another.
HOW TO BECOME KING OF THE MUTANTS
Greizenheimer turned on a computerized radio to some station playing opera music and sang along to Figaro. His voice rose and fell sharply. Bubbling strips of blue lights danced on the walls and pulsed to the melody like a giant equalizer. On the ceiling, a large plasma television displayed a series of horrific images of catastrophic events—scenes of war, terror, and murder, to name a few.
While the psycho sang, he strapped a strange metal hat onto Freddie’s head with weird wires hanging off it. “It’s time to erase his memory,” whispered Greizenheimer to nobody in particular. Then, he crouched over and hissed into Freddie’s ear. “Don’t worry, Son, the unbearable pain you’re going to feel will subside after a few moments.”
I couldn’t just stand there doing nothing. Remembering the low guttural sound I’d made at the bayou, I turned my body to the chimpanzee, bared my teeth, hissed, and from the deepest pit of my stomach, I growled. At first it was barely audible, but then it resonated throughout my body. Not only did the chimp go ballistic, so did the rest of the creatures in the room.
“Silence!” yelled psycho doc.
But it was too late. The worked-up chimp had escaped his confinement. The hinges on his cage fell down to the ground, followed, of course, by the door. Because of Bongo, the sugar-addicted chimp at Grumbling’s, I knew these primates were about seven times stronger than an ordinary man. I decided to use that little piece of knowledge to my advantage.
Chimchee stood in front of me.
I beat my hands in a very threatening manner on my chest—which really flipped the chimp out. He scrambled over to the other side of the room, jumping up and down like that weird kangaroo girl. He smashed everything he could get his hands on—jars, tubes, and vials. His shrieks were so loud I thought my eardrums would burst.
“You’ve really done it now, Maverick.” Greizenheimer pointed a skinny finger at me. “You’re going to regret the day you were born.”
“Don’t you mean re-born, you lunatic?” I huffed sarcastically, wondering if he’d picked up his cheesy line from watching one too many bad movies.
“I’ll deal with your back-talking later, you bratty science experiment gone awry. Because of you, right now, I must protect my work.” Greizenheimer reached under the metal table and pulled out a large red gun. He aimed it at the chimp.
Call me crazy, but I think the psychopath was scared. His hand shook like he’d overdosed on too many espresso shots. He was just about to squeeze the trigger when I did the most insane move I’d done to date. I dove over the metal table—just like a coordinated flying Forsini—and blocked his shot right before it hit the chimp in the chest.
Relief flooded my body as I checked out my backside—no blood, just a scratch. Seems it wasn’t a bullet that had hit me, but a tranquillizer dart. Rather than my instincts taking over, adrenaline kicked in. I pulled the yellow prong out of my tail and lunged toward Greizenheimer screaming and crying, “You are going to experience your experiments firsthand you escaped mental patient. I’m not a mistake! I’m not subhuman!”
Greizenheimer turned to run out of the room, but just as he reached the door, I tackled the jerk like a linebacker and plunged the dart into Greizenheimer’s skinny neck. We struggled for a moment, but apparently, the dart’s effects had taken its toll on me. My body went limp and I passed out. Hard.
***
I woke up propped in a chair, weak and groggy, with Freddie’s face hovering above mine. His eyes did not conceal his worry. I cleared my throat. It was so raw it felt like I’d swallowed Larry’s swords. “I feel like death warmed over,” I said. “Please tell me I’m still alive.”
“You’re alive, Mav,” said Freddie with a sigh of relief. “But you are in
H.E.L.L.
”
“Is the devil still here? Or did he escape?”
“You could say I sent him to prison. In fact, we gave him a life sentence.” Freddie pointed toward a large cage. My eyes came into focus. There, crumpled on the floor, imprisoned behind steel bars, Greizenheimer slept soundly with the yellow dart still jutting out from his neck. A now calm Chimchee the chimpanzee sat next to him, picking invisible bugs out of his hair and making raspberry noises.
“After you stabbed the doctor, you passed out stone cold. It’s been about forty-five minutes, same for Greizenheimer,” said Freddie. “I freed myself from that horrible contraption, managed to calm the chimp down by giving him three bunches of bananas and some candy, and then I dealt with the doctor.” He met my gaze and sighed a tired sigh. “Yikes, are you okay? You’ve got a really bad gash on your head.”
I touched my forehead and looked at my hand. There was only a little blood. “Awww, it’s only a flesh wound. I’ll survive.”
“I don’t know how Dr. Demento will,” said Freddie with a laugh, and not because what I said was funny. Chimchee was jumping up and down on Greizenheimer as if he was a human trampoline. “Dude, I can’t believe that nut-job is our dad. What a kinking.”
I smiled at Freddie and punched him lightly on the arm. “Hey bro, at least something good came out of it.”
Freddie cracked a tired grin.
I tried to stand up, but I felt very woozy…and very worried. Just my luck, it always seemed one problem was replaced with an even bigger one. Now that we had disabled Greizenheimer, and we were in New York City, how were we going to deal with the mutant kids? We couldn’t just set them loose. I think I only had like a thousand or so bucks left in my can. It wasn’t enough money to take care of three of us, let alone the pod kids in the room next door. And that was just the least of our problems. Not only was my skull pounding from knocking it on the ground when I passed out, it throbbed with uncertainty.
Overwhelmed, I slumped back into the chair. “Freddie,” I whispered, my hands on my head. “Where are we going to go? What should we do?”
Freddie laughed and held up a black leather wallet. “Can you say cash machine?”
“But he’ll never give us the pin number,” I said.
“Oh, yes, he will.” Freddie held up the stun gun and sparked it to life.
“But where are we going to live?” I asked, still not convinced.
“While I was waiting for you to come to, I did a little exploring.” Freddie grinned mischievously. “You should see the top three floors of this place. There’s enough room for all of us. And not only that, there’s a humongous roof deck with a small heated lap pool—”
“No way! A pool on the roof?” I smiled, thinking about how good a dip sounded. Even though I wanted to get as far from Greizenheimer as mutantly possible, Freddie offered the only logical solution and I knew it. “You thought of everything, huh?”
A deep voice bellowed from the doorway, “No, not everything.”
Richie—the meaner one of Greizenheimer’s goons—walked toward us with an intimidating scowl on his large face. Tony followed, still holding on to my squirming Snaggletooth. Richie pointed his giant, steel crushing hand at Greizenheimer. “You messed with the Doc big time and we have a deal to propose.” He fidgeted a bit, like he was more scared than I was. I raised a nervous eyebrow. “See, after the Doc gave us the mutant shots, well, we changed and we don’t like it. He told us we’d get bigger and all that’s happened is we’ve got lumpy backs and bad teeth and skin.”
“All we ever wanted to be were pro wrestlers,” said Tony. He nodded his head like an excited kid, but then his smile turned into a frown. “Doctor G said he knew people and he’d make us famous, but he never did.”
“See, we’ve always hated that man, but we were scared of him,” said Richie.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “He’s creepy.”
“And powerful,” said Richie, nodding his head in agreement. “We’ll help you, Maverick, if you can lend us a hand. You guys are a lot smarter than both of us put together. So brainy, you even outsmarted the Doc and we need brains. Maybe you’ll need some people with strength?”
Sounded like a good idea to me.
“Maverick, we’d like stay on and work for you and maybe you can help us get famous? But if you say no, we’ll crush you with our bare hands,” said Richie. He made his approach flexing his muscles, but his eyes pleaded to accept the offer.
“Guys, guys, guys,” I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender. Even though they were menacing and mean looking, I was thrilled at how the tables had turned in our favor. “No need to threaten us. It’s a done deal. I’ll need to get to know the ropes around here anyway.” I smiled. “And to thank you I’ve got a pretty stellar gift for you.”
“A present?” squealed Tony.
“Yeah, only glitch is you have to pick it up at Ashby’s. It’s a red Indian motorcycle with a sidecar. Every pro-wrestling team needs one.” Tony clapped his hands excitedly. “Just tell Ashby
that
Greizenheimer wanted you to pick it up because, um, after he disposed of us, he was so stressed out he took a vacation, leaving you in charge. And the bike is your bonus for a job well done.” Both of the lugs looked confused. “Don’t say anything more. Play stupid if he asks any questions.”
“We’re good at that,” said Richie.
“One last thing, Tony. Can I have my dog back please?”
Tony frowned and gripped Snaggletooth tighter. My three-legged friend let out a yelp. Clearly, the big buffoon did not know his own strength, and I really didn’t want Snaggletooth to be crushed.
“Um, you can play with him whenever you want. But I really love my dog,” I pleaded.
Begrudgingly, Tony set a dazed Snaggletooth on the ground and roughly tousled his head. “You promise I can play with him?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now that everything’s straight with all of us, you and Richie go get the motorcycle and come immediately back here.”
The two gigantic tattooed men nodded their large heads in unison and left the room smiling like big old goofballs. Things seemed to be turning around. The effects of the tranquillizer dart had worn off and there was something important I needed to do. I walked toward the door, pausing. “You want to come to the main floor to meet the rest of my weird family?”
Freddie grimaced. “I don’t know if I’m quite ready. I mean, I’m now just getting used to the fact I have a brother that’s part alligator, and well, those kids seem pretty manic in there…”