Feeding Frenzy Read online

  For my daughter, Rachel Leigh Spradlin.

  You never fail to make me smile.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  From Dr. Catalyst’s Files

  Preview

  Copyright

  FIVE HUNDRED YARDS OFFSHORE DR. CATALYST STOOD at the stern of a commercial fishing vessel as it bobbed gently at anchor. He watched a group of seven people on the beach through his binoculars. Early this morning he had left his current base and followed the tracking signals in the group’s vehicles to this semi-deserted stretch of ocean beach. They had no idea he was observing them. In fact, it was likely they presumed him dead. If only they knew the vengeance he was about to unleash on them.

  Dr. Catalyst rubbed his mangled right hand against his thigh. It had taken months to recover from the crushing bite of his Pterogator, received when those two little brats Emmet Doyle and Calvin Geaux stepped in to foil his plans. The severity of his injury had forced him to go to ground on the Seminole reservation deep in the River of Grass. There he had tried to heal under the care of his uncle, a tribal elder and doctor. But they had a vicious falling out. His uncle did not support Dr. Catalyst’s methods for saving the environment. Finally, they argued so violently that his uncle banished him from the reservation forever. Fool. Dr. Catalyst was a genius. He was doing great things. Let them cast him out. When the time was right, he would destroy them, too.

  His hand tapped harder and harder against his thigh until the discomfort forced him to stop. The constant pain he felt in his mangled limb was just one thing that little punk Emmet Doyle was going to pay for. Very soon.

  As he made the final preparations to exact his revenge, he chuckled softly to himself. Dr. Catalyst was beyond wealthy. In the years leading up to the initiation of his plan to combat invasive species, he had acquired several bases of operation all over South Florida. The Geauxs and the Doyles thought they had defeated him. They would soon learn how wrong they were.

  All morning he studied them from offshore as they cavorted in the sun, unaware of the gruesome fate that awaited them. Watching them only made Dr. Catalyst angrier. They had cost him dearly in money, time, and resources. Now they played on the beach as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn’t tried to destroy him and his work.

  But their great mistake had been in thinking the Pterogators were his only creation. Boa constrictors and pythons were not the only invasive species destroying the fragile South Florida ecosystem. And his alligator hybrids were not his only experiment. Dr. Catalyst believed in multitasking.

  Here in the waters of Florida, the nonnative lionfish was devastating the coastal reefs. No one knew exactly how the fish had been introduced here. Its normal habitat was in the Pacific and Indian Oceans. Most likely, lazy and irresponsible aquarium owners had released it, ignorant of the destruction it could wreak in the nearby waters. Much in the same manner the giant snakes had been set free into the swamp.

  As with the Pterogator, Dr. Catalyst had looked at the problem and devised a solution. The lionfish was a reef dweller and an aggressive fish. It drove off any competitors that might occupy the same habitat, gorging on the fish and mollusks that made their homes in the reefs. And when a reef was finally picked clean, the lionfish would move on to another, stripping it as well.

  To counter the fish’s aggressiveness, he had devised the perfect predators. And he had them here on his boat, about to be released. The world would soon know that Dr. Catalyst had returned.

  He had modified the catch tank on the boat. Now he opened the hatch in the rear deck and looked down on his creations. The sun was almost directly overhead, and the light flashed off the creatures’ flanks as they writhed and thrashed in the shallow water of the tank below him. One of them reared its head, opening its elongated mouth. Its jaws revealed row upon row of sharp teeth, long and pointed as nails. They stuck out of the creature’s mouth at odd angles, giving it a terrifying appearance. Its jaws snapped shut and Dr. Catalyst winced, remembering the devastation such a bite could cause.

  The tank held his new fish species in just enough water for them to remain alive until they were released. He pressed a switch and it opened a panel cut through the bottom of the tank and through the boat’s hull, releasing his newest killer species into the ocean.

  From his computer pad, he watched the signals from the small tracking devices he had attached to the dorsal fin of each of his beasts. They swam so fast and hard, he did not think the devices would remain attached for long, but on their initial release he wished to track their progress for as long as he could. Taking a moment to adjust to their new environment, the giant fish swam lazily in the water beneath his boat. Then, as their instincts commanded, they zoomed toward the reef, cutting through the water with powerful strokes.

  The sea was crystal clear and shallow here, and he watched their long, sinuous bodies surging across the ocean floor. Small schools of fish scattered in fear, desperate to flee these loathsome beasts. Waters that were full of dozens of marine species just moments before now looked deserted.

  He studied the shoreline again and saw that the five young people were putting on fins and masks. They were on their way into the water for snorkeling. Dr. Catalyst smiled.

  They were about to have a very bad day.

  “ALSO, THE POSSUM, SWAMP FOX, MARSH RABBIT, otters, and the Florida panther, which is my personal favorite,” Emmet said. Ever since he and Calvin had encountered Pterogators in the Everglades, Emmet was obsessed with learning the name of every creature in Florida with teeth.

  “Dude, I don’t think a rabbit is going to eat you,” Stuke said. “And besides —”

  “Excuse me. I was listing the many things in Florida that could eat me. Especially if Dr. Catalyst gets his hands on them. What if he crosses a polar bear with a marsh rabbit? Huh? What then?”

  Emmet Doyle stood on the sandy beach near Little Card Sound, surrounded by his friends Stuke, Riley, and Raeburn. All summer he’d thought about Montana, and how he wasn’t going back there any time soon. School started in two weeks. The conversation with his father concerning a return to Montana had been brief.

  “Dad, you said you were temporarily assigned to Florida. I don’t understand why we can’t go back to Montana, and you can return to saving the blue-breasted something or other,” Emmet had said. Repeatedly.

  “The agency isn’t sending me back until we solve this problem. It’s out of my hands,” Dr. Doyle told him. By his tone of voice, you would have thought he was searching the supply closet for missing paper clips, not facing down ferocious flying alligators every day.

  So no Montana. And now here he was, standing on sand made molten by the sun, sweating like a … something that sweated a lot.

  “In addition to the excess number of toothy creatures in your state, I would also like to point out that I have never sweated so much in my life,” he said to Stuke and the girls. “My sweat has perspiration.” All of them chuckled and shook their heads at another of Emmet’s r
ants.

  The summer had dragged along. Since Calvin was up at the Seminole reservation for much of it, visiting his father’s family, Emmet had spent a fair amount of time with Stuke, Raeburn, and Riley. Emmet liked hanging out with the gang, but he had also missed Calvin. And ever since Calvin had returned a couple of weeks ago, the boy had been … a little moody.

  Emmet’s dad and Dr. Geaux were still hard at work trying to undo the freak show Dr. Catalyst had unleashed in the Everglades. More and more of his hybrid Pterogators were popping up.

  “At least those Pterogators are eating snakes,” Riley said. “I heard someone on TV say the snake population is decreasing.”

  “According to my dad, it’s going to get worse as the Pterogators keep breeding,” said Emmet. “Dr. Catalyst said they were just clones, but Dad said that’s one reason why cloning is so controversial, because these clones mutated and can breed. He also said a lot of stuff about corrupted enzymes and chromosomes. I think. Honestly, when he goes all scientist I breeze out. Anyway, they can change and adapt, and the next thing you know you have hungry monsters trying to eat anything in sight. They’ve been eating other alligators, birds, foxes, at least part of one airboat, and they tried to turn two of Dr. Geaux’s rangers into a Bloomin’ Onion appetizer. And that’s why I’ve spent the entire summer ready to leave for Montana at a moment’s notice.”

  Except he wouldn’t be leaving today. Today he was actually having fun. Dr. Geaux and his dad had brought him, Calvin, and the gang to the beach. They had taken over a spot that was fairly deserted along its western edge and were spending the day playing volleyball, cooking out, and just enjoying themselves.

  Apollo had come along, too, and this was his first trip to the ocean. The little mutt had been confused by it. He crept carefully across the sand, puzzled at the size of the giant dog dish before him. As the waves rolled in and covered his paws, he had darted backward, barking and growling, and then charged forward as they receded. After a few minutes of showing the water who was boss, he had tired of the exercise and was now curled up beneath the picnic table, fast asleep.

  And then there was Calvin. Since he’d returned from the reservation he was even quieter than usual. Calvin was never someone you’d call a talker, but he apparently had additional levels of non-talkiness. While his friends were kicking a hacky sack around, Calvin was down by the shore, staring out at the water.

  Dr. Geaux and Dr. Doyle were at the grill next to a picnic table, laughing and talking about something Emmet would probably find completely uninteresting. That was another thing. Ever since they’d arrived in Florida, Dr. Geaux and Dr. Doyle seemed to “hit it off,” as his dad had called it. They had even gone out to dinner a few times. Emmet wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It was just … weird. But he wasn’t going to think about that right now.

  “Hey, Dr. Geaux,” Emmet said as she approached.

  “Emmet! You getting hungry? Your dad is doing his best not to burn the hot dogs. And failing. But I’ll intervene, don’t worry,” she said.

  Dr. Geaux was nice. Emmet liked her. But she’d started getting overly cheerful whenever he was around. Like she was trying really hard to make sure he liked her. Emmet was positive this had something to do with her and his dad going to dinner.

  “I’m sure Dad can manage a hot dog,” he said. “I was just wondering if I could talk to you a minute?”

  “Sure,” she said. They left Dr. Doyle at the grill and strolled farther down the beach, where they could talk without being overheard by anyone.

  “Is Calvin okay?” he asked her.

  For just a fleeting second, Emmet spied a wave of sadness and worry flicker across her face. She replaced it quickly with a smile. But it was there. Her eyes traveled across the sand to where Calvin stood alone, the incoming water splashing over his feet.

  “I think so. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. He’s just seemed … a little more quiet than usual since he came back from the rez.” Raeburn was also a Seminole and always referred to the reservation as “the rez.”

  “Hmm. Yes. I suppose that’s right. Whenever he visits, no matter how much he enjoys time with his aunts and uncles and cousins, it reminds him of how much he misses his dad. Plus, next spring he’s going to be old enough to take part in the Green Corn Dance. It’s an important ritual for a Seminole boy. Calvin is only half Seminole, but he’s still part of the tribe. And his dad won’t be there to participate. A male relative will have to stand in. It’s just going to be hard for him.”

  “I didn’t know that. You probably know Calvin’s not a talker. But I guess that explains it. I was just worried something else was wrong. Wanted to help somehow if I could.”

  Dr. Geaux smiled. It was a nice, genuine smile. The normal kind, not the kind she used when she was trying to get him to like her. It sort of reminded him of how his mom used to smile.

  “Emmet, that’s a really nice thing for you to say. I want you to know that Calvin thinks a lot of you. He talks about you all the time. When he does talk, that is.”

  That surprised Emmet. “Really?”

  “Yep. And he could really use a friend right now. And for heaven’s sake, does he know Riley has a hopeless crush on him?”

  “Yeah, he does,” Emmet said. “Well, we’ve talked about it. Sort of. But he’s … Calvin.”

  “Maybe you should all go snorkeling. That might help Calvin get out of his head a little.”

  “I was afraid you might say that,” Emmet said. “And I’d be happy to help, I really would. But I’ve made a vow to never go into any body of water again. Not even a bathtub. I’m strictly taking showers now. Nothing eats you in a shower.”

  Dr. Geaux laughed. “I don’t know about that. Have you ever seen the Alfred Hitchcock movie Psycho? It’s a classic horror movie. You’ll never think about showers the same way again. But honestly, Emmet, I think you’re okay here. Give it a try. Sometimes you just have to get back on the horse.”

  Emmet shook his head. “If Dr. Catalyst is still out there, he’ll probably figure out a way to combine a horse with a saber-toothed tiger. No offense to your home state, Dr. Geaux, but Florida is full of critters that want to eat me. So ixnay on the orkelsnay.”

  “Emmet, you kill me,” Dr. Geaux said, laughing. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a twelve-year-old with your sense of humor. But Dr. Catalyst is long gone. His boat was covered in blood. The Dade County medical examiner said it was unlikely anyone could survive that much blood loss. Give snorkeling a try. You’ll be fine. In fact, you might find yourself enjoying it. Just a few yards out from shore here, there’s a large reef. You’ll see all kinds of beautiful fish.”

  Emmet took a deep breath. “Okay. But if there is something down there looking for an Emmet sandwich, I’m holding you responsible.”

  “You and your father crack me up. Alligators don’t come into salt water. You’re good.”

  “My dad cracks you up?”

  “Yes! He’s hilarious.”

  “My dad? Dr. Benton Doyle? Bird Nerd Doyle is funny?”

  “Haven’t you heard yet that nerds are cool? And actually, yes, he’s quite a comedian.”

  Emmet couldn’t figure this out. What could his dad have possibly said to Dr. Geaux that was funny? Or even mildly humorous? Knock-knock. Who’s there? Peregrine. Peregrine who? That’s a nice pair of green socks you’re wearing. Huh.

  “All right. I’m going to get Calvin to take us snorkeling. He likes a project if he’s in charge. But I’m entering the ocean under protest. If something down there —”

  “There’s nothing down there,” Dr. Geaux interrupted him. “Don’t worry. You’ll be just fine.”

  EVERYONE DONNED FLIPPERS AND MASKS. THEY ALSO wore flotation vests because Dr. Geaux and Calvin were sticklers about safety. The vests provided enough buoyancy to keep a swimmer on the surface of the water, but weren’t so bulky it made it hard to dive.

  “Wouldn’t it be cool if we found the Black Thunder out t
here?” Stuke asked.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Stuke,” Riley said. “That’s just a story.”

  “What’s Black Thunder?” Emmet asked. “Some kind of rogue shark?”

  Raeburn laughed. “No. It’s a legend about a haunted pirate ship. Supposedly it sunk somewhere nearby, with a fortune in gold aboard. A notorious pirate named One Leg Sterling captained it. He had just raided a British man-of-war and taken on a lot of gold coins. His ship was damaged in the battle, though, and a sudden storm came up. The extra weight of all that gold caused it to sink, supposedly near here. Treasure hunters have been searching for the wreck for years. People say they sometimes see a pirate walking along the shore during the full moon — that it’s Sterling looking for his lost treasure. But it’s just a myth.” Everyone had put on their snorkeling gear, and Emmet stared at the water. Far offshore a fishing boat bobbed at anchor.

  Emmet felt something on his shoulder and jumped. Luckily it was only Calvin, not a ghost pirate or a Pterogator.

  “Are you all right, dude? You look a little pale,” Calvin said. He knew how skittish Emmet was about the water now.

  “Don’t do that!” Emmet complained.

  “Do what?” Calvin asked, seriously confused.

  “Don’t sneak up on me like that. I could have gone all ninja on you,” Emmet said. In addition to visiting the library nearly every day for a thorough study of Florida’s fauna this summer, Emmet had insisted his dad enroll him in a karate class. Even though no one agreed with him, he still believed Dr. Catalyst was out there creating a giant opossum that knew kung fu. Emmet wanted to be ready.

  “I wasn’t sneaking up on you, I was standing right here. And I didn’t know you’d made it all the way to ninja in two months of classes,” Calvin said. Emmet was reasonably sure he was joking, but you could never tell with Calvin.

  “You sneaked. You definitely sneaked. And okay, I’m a little leery about going in the water,” Emmet said. “But I’ve got mad ninja skills now, so don’t test me.”

  “What do you say we snorkel?” Calvin stalked off toward the water, walking awkwardly in his flippers.