ATTACK OF THE BULLIES
“How did I get here?” Ruby Peet grumbled to herself as she crawled onto the roof of a highspeed express train from King’s Cross Station to Newcastle upon Tyne. The air was bone-rattlingly cold, the train was racing at nearly 140 miles an hour through the English countryside, and she was sure the jostling would send her flying over the edge at any moment. But, as they say, there’s no use in complaining when you have a job to do—and just then Ruby’s job was saving the world. She was in pursuit of a scientist named Dr. Hans Julian, the world’s foremost expert on poop. Dr. Julian knew everything there was to know about dookie, ka-ka, turds, racing stripes, floaters, and toilet bombs. He also knew how waste could be used as fuels, building materials, and fertilizer, plus a million other very gross things. One could even say that he was number one at number two. What he didn’t know was how deep the doo-doo would be when he tried to sell some of his knowledge to a very bad person.
What could a guy with a degree in dung possibly possess knew the answer to that one. Dr. Julian had created a super laxative—one that would produce intensive, explosive diarrhea. One vial in a city’s water supply and every man, woman, child, and animal would be racing to the bathroom. With everyone indisposed, any number of crimes could occur—and there would be no one to stop them. So Ruby had been sent to stop him from selling his creation. If Ruby had a dollar for every time she had saved the world, she would have a whole lot of dollars. But this particular mission was more stressful than most. This mission was on a train, and Ruby was allergic to trains. She was allergic to their rocking. She was allergic to their noise. She was allergic to how her ears popped when the train went into a tunnel. She was especially allergic to the idea of a metal snake roaring through the countryside at skin-peeling speeds. But if she was completely honest with herself, Ruby knew that her allergies weren’t the real problem with trains. Her problem had started when she was four years old. When she was still a toddler, her parents had put her in front of a TV and turned on a show about a talking train that lived on a tiny island. The show was bright, colorful, and cheery. All the trains were friends, and in each episode they
ATTACK OF THE BULLIES
that would put him on the nation’s Most Wanted List? Ruby
learned a valuable lesson about sharing and doing the right
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thing. The show horrified Ruby and gave her nightmares, for the following reasons: 1. Trains, as Ruby’s young mind understood them, were not supposed to talk, sing songs, or have adventures. 2. Trains were not supposed to have big eyes and friendly faces. They weren’t supposed to have faces at all! They were trains, for crying out loud! 3. Someone was supposed to be in firm control of the train as it traveled from point A to point B, without any shenanigans. Conductors were not supposed to let the trains race off willynilly to get lost in abandoned mines, derail on rickety bridges, or crash into paint trucks (which seemed to happen in every episode). This “happy” little island might have been filled with songs and sunshine, but it was total chaos. No one seemed to be in charge, and that made Ruby sick to her belly. Because when there was no one in charge, any number of calamities could befall the world. At four years old, Ruby decided that it was up to her to be the person in charge. Eight years later Ruby was first in her class at school, a super spy, and the leader of a group of secret agents.
But she was also still on top of a train. She quietly hoped it She stood, fighting the wind, and peered into the darkness. In the moonlight she spotted Dr. Julian running away from her along the top of the car in front of her. Mustering all her courage, she darted off in pursuit. If it were up to her, she’d be calling the shots while one of her fellow agents did the legwork. Gluestick could use his sticky hands and feet and never fall off the train. Braceface could snatch the doctor in a giant fist made from his orthodontic braces, and Wheezer’s inhalers could allow her to fly alongside the train and scoop the bad guy up in her arms. Even the superfreak-tastic Flinch could tap into his sugar-fueled strength and lighting speed to easily overpower the scientist. Unfortunately, her teammates were on other missions, and Ruby was on her own. All she had was her allergies—runny nose, swollen feet, itchy hands, rashes, hives, blisters, and weepy eyes. Coursing through her bloodstream were millions nanobytes, tiny robots that made her allergic reactions so sensitive that she practically had psychic powers. A puffy eye, for example, alerted her to explosives. A sudden hacking cough warned her of an assassin’s presence. A swollen ankle was a clear sign that she was about to get punched in the face. Her allergies put her one step ahead of every villain . . . even if she would
ATTACK OF THE BULLIES
would not grow a face and start singing.
never know the sublime thrill of what peanut butter tasted like.
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“Dr. Julian! You don’t have to do this!” she cried over the howling wind. Julian stopped and faced Ruby. “Kid, I’m a scientist, and my work is for sale to the highest bidder! I can’t stop someone from using what I create to do bad things.” Ruby’s hands began to swell—a clear sign that Julian was lying. But there was more to the scientist’s claim. A tickle in her armpit told her that he was being forced against his will, which she was very allergic to as well. “You don’t believe that any more than I do!” Ruby shouted. “Someone has threatened you.” “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” he shouted back. “Now get lost before we both get killed.” “What did they say they’d do to you?” Julian scowled. Suddenly, Ruby’s eyes were swelling, which could only mean one thing: Danger. “Duck!” she shouted. She fell to her stomach just as the train plunged into a tunnel. She could feel the stone ceiling scraping against her coat and prayed that Dr. Julian had been able to heed her warning. When they cleared the tunnel, she got to her feet and saw that the scientist had made it, too. “Who’s making you do this?” she continued.
The words seemed to pain him. “She’s . . . I don’t know Ruby felt the air squeeze out of her body. “Ms. Holiday . ..” “She threatened my family.” “We can protect you,” Ruby said, taking a tentative step forward. “I know I look like a meddling kid who’s in way over her head, but I work with some very powerful people. We can move you and your family to a place where she would never find you. You could start all over without fear.” Dr. Julian looked down at his vial and then back at her, clearly struggling with the decision. Ruby sympathized and wondered what she would do in the same situation. Put her trust in some kid on top of a speeding train, or risk her family’s lives? “All right, kid,” he said as he stretched out to hand the vial to Ruby. She let out a deep breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “You’re doing the right thing,” she said as she reached for the vial. But just as she got her fingertips on it, she was suddenly overcome by a tremendous sneezing fit. The vial slipped and fell onto the top of the train. Luckily it didn’t break, but it bounced and skidded toward the far end of the car.
ATTACK OF THE BULLIES
what her name is, really. She calls herself Ms. Information.”
“Hey Pufferfish, everything OK?” a voice crackled in her
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head. Ruby scowled. The sneeze wasn’t an allergic reaction or a touch of the flu but what happened when a tiny communication link implanted in her nose was activated. It was supposed to keep her in close contact with her team members, but as she watched the vial disappear from view, she wished she could reach up her nostril and yank it out. Especially since she knew who was on the other end—Heathcliff Hodges. “Pufferfish? Can you read me?” Ruby growled. “You’re not supposed to be on the com-link, Heathcliff!” “I wanted to help. Have caught Dr. Diarrhea yet? Where are you? It sounds loud—” Ruby squeezed her nose to deactivate the link and took off after the bouncing vial. It slid across the metal roof, threatening to shatter and explode at any second. She lunged face-first, feeling the slick glass in her hands once more, only to lose it again when another sneeze took hold. Ruby watched the vial hop across the gap to the next car. “Hey, is everything OK? I think we got disconnected,” Heathcliff said over the link. “When you get back, we should run a diagnostic on your nostril im—” “HEATHCLIFF! If you don’t mind, I’m trying to save
the world,” Ruby said, hauling herself to her feet. With all the gap between the two cars, landing awkwardly and bouncing a bit on her heels. Somehow she managed to not fall. “Oh . . . um . . . sorry,” the boy said. “So you’re OK?” “I’M OK!” She ignored the hurt in Heathcliff ’s voice. She knew he was just trying to help, but she didn’t have time for him. She squeezed her nose again to shut him out and leaped across the next gap. Unfortunately, this landing was not as lucky as the previous ones. Her feet touched down on a patch of black ice and sent her tumbling over the side of the car. She survived only by snatching the metal railing on the roof with one arm while grabbing the vial out of the air with the other. Strong gusts sent her crashing into the side of the train. As she struggled to pull herself back up with one arm, she imagined the bewildered passengers inside the car gaping at her through the windows. She hoped they would be smart enough to look away before she fell. Which was exactly what was going to happen. She just didn’t have the upper-body strength to hold on much longer, and no amount of scrambling was helping, either. Death was inevitable, but she had to focus on the vial. When she fell, it would fall, too, which meant it would shatter and soak into
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speed she could muster, she ran forward and leaped across the
the soil. She refused to be the cause of the world falling apart.
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There was only one way to stop it. She had to swallow the formula. She had no idea what the glowing red chemical would do to her body. If one drop could take out a city, what would an entire vial do to her insides? The pain would no doubt be staggering, but it would last only a brief moment, and then she would fall and it would all be over. It was the only way to save the world. She slipped the little glass tube into her mouth and ground her teeth into the cap so she could yank it off. But she was too late—the train went around a curve in the track and she was thrown to the side. The force was so strong that the hand she was holding on with was wrenched free, and she fell. I hate trains, she thought. To be continued in Attack of the BULLIES . . .
THAT’S IT! NOTHING MORE TO SEE HERE.