Danger Guys and the Golden Lizard Read Online Free Page B

E.
    Mrs. Emerson nodded. “But where is Zeek?”
    â€œNot far!” snarled Fingers.
    â€œAre you kidding?” I started in. “You’ll never catch Zeek. He’s a Mayville Marmoset! He’s probably at home already, munching potato chips while the army loads up to come and blast you. He’s so far you’d need a satellite to track him. He’s—”
    FLUMP!
    A big pile of straw and sticks and something else fell through the ceiling of the hut and landed at my feet.
    â€œYou mean him ?” asked Fingers.
    I looked down at the lump on the floor of the hut. The lump looked back up at me and smiled.
    I helped Zeek to his feet.
    â€œSorry,” he said. “I was trying to help everybody escape.”
    I pulled some straw from his hair. “Hey, it’s the thought that counts.”
    Fingers whispered, and the six ninja guys blocked the door. Solid.
    â€œYou’d better let us go,” I said, “or else.”
    Fingers stepped over, breathing hard and tapping those fat fingers into my shoulders. “What are you, some wise-guy kid?”
    â€œUm, no,” I said.
    â€œThen you must be a stooge ” he snarled. “My big ex-football tough guys here like to squash stooges like you.” Fingers pointed and the big guys stamped their feet hard on the ground.
    I gulped. “Well, no, actually, you were right the first time. I am a wise-guy kid.”
    Zeek stepped up, too. “That’s right, he’s not a stooge. He’s a wise-guy kid. We all call him that at school.”
    â€œWell, good. Because I kill wise-guy kids!” Fingers shouted.
    â€œOh,” I mumbled.
    Then he grabbed me and started to shake me up and down. “I want the map! Give me the map! I want the map!”
    Each time Fingers said “map” he jostled me extra hard. I felt like a salt shaker.
    He was getting ready to turn me upside down and pound my head into the ground when Zeek stepped in.
    â€œLeave him alone! Here, take your stupid map!” Zeek held out a wrinkly brown piece of paper.
    Fingers pushed me over to the Emersons and snatched the paper from Zeek.
    â€œZeek! No!” cried Mrs. Emerson. “The Golden Lizard!”
    Fingers held the paper up to the hole in the ceiling Zeek had made. He started to read the squiggly lines on it.
    â€œSorry,” Zeek whispered. “I couldn’t let him bust my pal’s brain. We need that brain to get us past those linebackers blocking the door.”
    â€œOh,” I said. “I’m supposed to get us out of here?”
    â€œYou’re the incredible plan man!”
    Zeek was right. It was up to me.
    I thought about it while Fingers traced his pudgy fingers across the map. I actually came up with two plans.
    My first plan, charging the colossal big guys head-on, seemed pretty dumb. They’d crush us for sure. But I wasn’t sure how far we’d get if we tried my second plan.
    My second plan was to jump really high through the ceiling and fly away.
    That was impossible.
    Impossible? Or dumb? I went for dumb.
    â€œOkay,” I whispered, “what we do is—I ask Zeek a question.”
    Zeek gave me a look. “What question?”
    â€œWhat do you call this kind of building?”
    Zeek made a face. “A hut?” he whispered.
    â€œWhat?” I said.
    â€œA hut,” he said a little louder.
    â€œWhat?” I said again.
    Zeek was getting annoyed. “A HUT! HUT! HUT!”
    That’s when my plan really started to work.



SEVEN
    It was awesome. It was amazing.
    It was like three o’clock on Friday afternoon on the last day before April vacation.
    When they heard Zeek yelling “Hut!” the ninja linebackers in the doorway thought they were back on the football field. They crouched low.
    That’s where the really brilliant part of my plan came in.
    Zeek and I dived over the guys, slid across their backs, landed on our hands, did flips,