The Danger Gang and the Isle of Feral Beasts! Read online

  Jeeves shrugged at us and slowly creaked open the door. He slipped inside, leaving Julianne and me to twiddle our thumbs in the rain. We stood quietly, straining to hear what was being said in the captain’s cabin.

  “Just like Jiffy Bristlebrush to get kidnapped at his own movie premiere,” I finally grumbled.

  Julianne glared at me. “Why in the world would you leave the keys in the seaplane?”

  I looked down at my tuxedo shoes, embarrassed. “I . . . ​ don’t like having things in my pockets,” I mumbled.

  Julianne grunted in disgust. With nothing else to do, I turned to look at the crew of crabbers. I wanted to be sure they were in prime condition for our side adventure.

  FACT: They were not in prime condition.

  Finally, the door opened behind us. I turned to see Jeeves wearing a strange half grin.

  “She’s going to help us,” he said. “If I play chess with her during the voyage.”

  The news made my adventurer’s spirit surge.

  “You heard him,” I announced to the crew. “Cast off the bow lines! Man the sweeps!”

  The men stared at me blankly. Finally one of them spoke. “Kid, this boat just has a motor.”

  I sighed. Clearly the crabbing vessel was full of adventure novices.

  The crabbers trudged across the decks like they were sleepwalking. Each one was slower than the next.

  “Sorry, Sato,” Ronald said, “I don’t think anyone could get these louts moving.”

  Just then, an intercom squealed and the captain came on. She didn’t say anything, she simply cleared her throat.

  It was more than enough. Instantly the whole crew flew into action. In seconds we were headed west.

  “That did the trick,” Julianne said.

  Another giant flash of lightning streaked across the horizon and we glimpsed the silhouette of our stolen seaplane disappearing into a cloudbank. There was no choice but to follow it, right into the eye of the storm.

  “Ronald Zupan?” the captain called over the intercom. Everyone froze.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “Someone’s asking for you on the radio.”

  Jeeves pushed open the door and we stepped inside the captain’s cabin. The room was dark and cramped, with the chessboard and a hammock off to one side and a desk spread with charts on the other. Everything was bolted down or tied together with wire.

  The front of the cabin had a wide glass window facing out on the churning ocean. The captain stood with her back to us, steering the boat with one hand while she fiddled with a radio dial.

  “I swear,” she said, without turning around, “I just had the signal.”

  She was every bit as tall as Jeeves. Her black hair was braided and she wore it pinned up on her head.

  “Delenda Jean-Baptiste,” she said. “Great-granddaughter of the famous New Orleans riverboat pirate. Crew calls me Cap.”

  She glanced down at us. Her eyes were bright and I quickly deduced that she was no one to trifle with.

  “I’m Ronald Zupan,” I said, “and this is my partner in grand adventures and dazzling schemes, Julianne Sato. You already met Jeeves.”

  The captain narrowed her eyes at the tallest of our trio. “You told me your name was Tom. Were you lying?”

  The butler shook his head. “Jeeves is sort of a . . . ​nickname. Only Ronald and Julianne call me that.”

  The captain eyed him for what seemed like ages. “I like Tom better.”

  “Me too,” Jeeves said.

  The radio sputtered and popped, and Delenda reached down to try to find the signal. Someone was talking, but it was too fuzzy to understand.

  “Grab this.” She motioned for Julianne to take the huge silver steering wheel.

  We were outside the protection of the harbor now and the bow of the boat reared up as we crested a wave, then slammed down again with a terrible groan. Julianne had to wrestle the wheel to keep us pointed straight. Rain slatted against the window, and water washed across the decks.

  Delenda tried for another minute to tune the radio, then gave the whole system a rattling slap. There was a loud, fuzzy whine, and a man’s voice crackled across the airwaves.

  “Ronald Zupan,” he snarled, “are you brave enough to answer?”

  Whoever it was sounded as sinister as a Peruvian panther. Delenda pushed the radio receiver toward me. I took it and pressed the button to talk.

  “I’m Ronald Zupan,” I said. “Only son of Helen and Francisco Zupan, founding member of the—”

  “Shut up,” the man hissed. “I am your archenemy.”

  “Zeetan Z?” I asked.

  “No!” the man said. “I’m far more dangerous than that bully. I’m the leader of the FIB—the most feared man in Bay City!”

  The radio whined and squealed.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Earlier tonight I sent my men to capture your beloved butler,” the voice said. “Now you have to rescue him, it’s part of my master plan.”

  Jeeves reached for the receiver. “Sorry to disappoint,” he said, “but I’m Ronald’s butler. The fellow you captured was a movie star by the name of Josh Brigand.”

  We could hear the scalawag slam a hand or foot against something hard, then he gave a long, pained cry. After a few moments of silence he spoke again, through gritted teeth. “That mix-up was less than ideal, but no matter. The actor will do. He’s a friend of yours and his life depends on you now.”

  I took back the receiver. “First of all, I wouldn’t call him a friend.” Julianne glared at me. “And second of all, the Danger Gang is coming to find you as we speak. We’ll rescue Josh Brigand and take back my family’s stolen artifacts. Including the rare Brasher Doubloon.”

  “I don’t think so,” the voice said. “Your parents have been trying to find those artifacts for weeks. The trail is ice cold. Just wait until your new archenemy—”

  I snatched the receiver from Ronald and pressed the button to talk.

  “Why is Ronald your archenemy?” I asked. “I’m a member of the Danger Gang too!”

  “Who is this?” the voice said.

  “Julianne Sato, fencing champion of Bay City! Ring a bell?”

  “Zupan’s assistant? The orphan. Yes, the assistant to my archenemy is also my enemy.”

  I could literally feel my whole face getting hot. “We’re partners,” I said between clenched teeth.

  A wave smashed into the hull of the ship and it shuddered. It was hard to hold the radio and the wheel at the same time.

  “Listen, whatever-your-name-is,” the man spat. “If you were in Borneo, you’re my enemy. But you don’t know the tip of the iceberg about where I’m radioing from.”

  I squeezed the receiver so hard my knuckles turned white. “No, you listen to me. We’re rescuing Josh, and whenever I find you, I swear, you will remember the name Juli—”

  Before I could finish the radio buzzed and the line went dead. I slammed down the receiver and stared out the window into the storm.

  Julianne’s jaw muscles pulsed. I set my hand on her shoulder. “Clearly the FIB are horrible criminals.”

  She nodded her agreement.

  Jeeves shivered. “Absolutely. That man said he was more frightening than Zeetan Z!”

  “I meant horrible at being criminals,” I said, as another whitecap broke across the decks. “Who kidnaps the wrong person?”

  “Or doesn’t know that I’m a founding member of the Danger Gang,” Julianne added, still seething.

  Another wave walloped us, and she fought to hold the wheel steady.

  “Hopefully, they’ll at least lead us someplace exotic,” I said, “down old South America way, perhaps. Or Morocco.”

  “It’s not Morocco,” Delenda said, turning down the radio. “This signal catches people broadcasting for fifteen miles. Even less in weather like this. Wherever your new archenemy is hiding, it’s close.”

  Delenda walked over to her desk and bent down to inspect a
chart that was spread out on the table.

  “I don’t know where the FIB is,” she said, “but that seaplane is headed to the harbor at Capstone Island. In this storm, it’s the only safe place to land besides Bay City.”

  “Capstone?” Julianne asked. “Like Capstone Motion Pictures?”

  Delenda nodded and took back over the wheel. “They once used it as a movie set. It’s abandoned nowadays. All that’s left is an old theater and a crumbling harbor.”

  “So you think the plane is going there?” I asked.

  Delenda nodded as another long streak of lightning split the blue-black sky.

  “Hmmm . . . ,” Julianne muttered.

  I knew this “hmmm.” It was a sound my adventure partner made when she had the sort of idea that I’d end up wishing I had first.

  “What is it?” Jeeves asked.

  The lantern flickered and the biggest wave yet dumped water over the bow.

  Julianne grabbed my shoulder to brace herself. “An abandoned island that’s close to Bay City? It sounds like the perfect hideout for a criminal gang. Right?”

  “The FIB,” Jeeves said, eyes widening.

  “The man on the radio was probably calling from their secret lair,” she said. “And if he’s close to here, it means their secret lair might just be on that island.” Everyone turned to me. “What do you think, Ronald, sounds reasonable, right?”

  I stroked my upper lip, where I usually wear a very realistic mustache. “The FIB using this island as their hideout does sound reasonable.”

  “I agree,” Jeeves said, “and we should keep sounding reasona—”

  “A little too reasonable if you ask me.”

  Jeeves groaned. “Not again.”

  I let his words slide off me like water off an Australian platypus.

  “Remember,” I said, “not even my extraordinary parents have been able to find where the FIB is hiding their relics. You heard the man on the radio, the trail is ice cold.”

  Julianne and Jeeves both looked skeptical, but I finally felt like I had a head of steam.

  “Friends, don’t you think Francisco and Helen will have already checked the island?” I asked.

  “Ronald,” Jeeves warned, “you’re getting carried away.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “I’m getting carried away from a simple solution and toward something more complicated.”

  The ship rolled left, and we all slid into Delenda.

  “Look,” Julianne said with her face smooshed against Jeeves’s shoulder. “I know your parents probably have some saying about ‘nothing is ever quite what it seems . . .’ ”

  “ ‘Nothing is ever quite what it seems except the sting of the paper wasp,’ ” I recited. “ ‘Which seems horribly painful and is horribly painful.’ It’s a Francisco Zupan classic.”

  Another wave sent us sliding back the other direction.

  “But maybe things are what they seem,” Julianne said, as the ship rocked violently. “Maybe the FIB is hiding at Capstone Island.”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “Because I feel myself getting dizzy and my forehead is beading with sweat—two telltale signs of a mystery afoot!”

  In this case they were actually telltale signs of Ronald getting seasick. Five seconds later, he flung open the door to the captain’s cabin, rushed to the side of the crabbing boat, and threw up into the ocean.

  I didn’t feel much better. Jeeves, on the other hand, looked perfectly fine. He said he was used to squalls after traveling with Francisco Zupan on a steamer when they were young men. He held the wheel as Delenda settled me in her hammock, then the two of them took turns trading off chess moves and steering the ship. The board had magnets inside to keep the pieces in place, and the table was bolted to the floor.

  I don’t know how long the storm lasted, because I faded in and out of sleep, trying to keep everything in my stomach right where it was. I just know that at one point I heard Delenda say, “Well, Tom, I believe that’s checkmate.”

  Moments later, Ronald charged back through the door to the cabin. He was soaking wet and his face had a greenish tint, but he also wore that certain Ronald look he gets when he thinks he’s figured out something huge.

  FACT: And I absolutely had!

  I burst into the captain’s cabin to find Julianne in the hammock and Jeeves and Delenda standing by the wheel.

  “I’ve broken the case wide open!” I announced.

  Jeeves turned, looking skeptical. “Before or after you got sick over the rail?”

  “During!” I said. “I spent a long night on deck with the crew, and they’ve accepted me as one of their own.”

  My butler glanced at his watch. “You were on deck for . . . ​ forty minutes.”

  “And during that time, my new seafaring compatriots told me something that’s sure to prove vital in our quest.”

  Julianne sat up in the hammock.

  “We were gazing out at the ocean, as men of the sea often do,” I began, leaning against the chess table, “and one of the crabbers said tonight would be just the sort of night that the Serpent of the Mist might appear.”

  Jeeves’s eyebrows arched the second the words left my mouth. “I hesitate to ask, but what is—”

  “It’s a sea monster,” I said in a hushed tone. “Giant yellow eyes, spitting smoke, howling with the cries of lost souls.”

  “The cries of lost souls?” Julianne asked. Her eyebrows were arched too.

  FACT: My fellow Danger Gang members are absolute experts in expressive eyebrow movements.

  Out ahead of us, I could just barely make out the looming, dark shape of the island. Delenda glanced over her shoulder at me as yet another wave crashed against the bow.

  “Who was talking about the Serpent?” she asked.

  “The blockheaded one,” I said.

  “They’re mostly all blockheads,” the captain replied with a soft little chuckle. “But I think you mean Smollet. He might be the blockhead-iest sailor I’ve got, always whispering about that serpent.”

  “Hear that, Ronald?” Julianne said. “The men are superstitious. We need to stay focused on—”

  “Hold on now,” Delenda interrupted. “I’m not saying that there isn’t a serpent.”

  Julianne and Jeeves looked caught off guard, but the sea captain kept piloting the boat, unfazed.

  “On stormy nights, especially when the fog is thick, something . . . appears,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Julianne asked.

  Delenda shrugged. “Could be another ship. But it never sends out a radio signal or responds to calls. It’s too big to be a fishing boat, and if it were a cruise liner it’d be headed toward Bay City Harbor.”

  Jeeves gave a wry chuckle. “So your men concluded that it’s a fire-breathing sea monster?”

  Delenda’s expression went ice cold. “Two fishermen went to investigate it last month and never came back. What do you say about that?”

  The ship rolled hard to the left.

  “Fine,” Julianne said, sliding out of her hammock and giving a wary look at the horizon. “So there’s something out there, but, Ronald, I still don’t see why you think it’s important for our case. If Delenda’s right about where that man radioed from, and if he’s with the rest of the FIB, then we don’t need to worry about any sea monsters.”

  I felt like telling her that the late-night whisperings of superstitious fishermen should never be ignored, or that it’s always wise to believe the dazzling theories of Ronald Zupan, or simply that doubting friends are worse than enemies.

  Instead I said, “Sato, it’s a mystery, and when you’re trying to solve one mystery and other mysteries pop up, you have to wonder if they’re all connected, like a maze of clues, leading you—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there,” Julianne said. “I vote we stay focused on rescuing Josh.”

  “Seconded!” Jeeves agreed. “Remember, Ronald, this is just a side adventure.”

  For a moment, it loo
ked like I was outnumbered once again, then Delenda leveled her eyes at me.

  “Look for sparks,” she said. “That’s what everyone talks about when they tell stories of the Serpent—huge explosions of sparks, like it’s breathing fire.”

  I nodded gravely as Delenda eased back on the throttle. Giant rock formations stood out of the water on either side of us, but she navigated past them like a horned owl soaring through a pitch-black forest.

  As soon as we were in the protection of Capstone Harbor, the waves were smaller. Finally, the boat stopped rocking. Out ahead, I could just barely make out the craggy shape of the landscape. There were high, jagged cliffs on either side of the port, with a deep valley in between. Everything else was cast in darkness.

  Delenda’s eyes seemed to slice right through the night. “That your plane?”

  She jammed the engine in reverse and wheeled the boat around.

  Tied to a piling on a ramshackle dock, our seaplane appeared. Its chrome propeller dipped in the water each time a wave rolled past. A few hundred yards north of the dock, we could make out the shape of a circular building with a domed roof. Clearly it was the old movie theater that Delenda had mentioned.

  “Look!” Julianne said.

  Lights glowed to life inside. A few seconds later, they snapped off again. I had to admit, it seemed like Delenda had been right about where the FIB took Josh Brigand.

  “I can’t risk getting any closer to shore,” the sea captain said. “One big wave could beach us.”

  If we were going to investigate the theater, it meant we’d have to dive into the swirling, inky water. Jeeves and I both turned toward Julianne.

  After our first adventure, I thought my lifelong fear of the sea was pretty much over. But we were about to swim in a pitch-black bay, with thunder and lightning all around us. Being scared of that isn’t a phobia—it’s common sense.

  Sure, in Borneo we swam through underground tunnels, and almost drowned, but there’s something different about the ocean at night. There just is.

  “I guess we don’t have a choice,” Julianne said, swallowing hard.