chapter seven

The Rifters are pulling out rusty chains and uncoiling strange ropes made from something like monster hair. They all move forward, about to hog-tie the creature.

Actually, not all of them move forward. One Rifter seems more interested in spinning on the tire swing than he does in tormenting small creatures.

“Flunk, quit that swinging and help finish the capture!” hollers the Boss Rifter.

“Sorry, Boss! Coming, Boss!” The Rifter named Flunk tries to get off the tire swing, but he must be dizzy from all that spinning, because he gets one foot out, hops up and down trying to find his balance, and falls flat on his face.

I snicker as quietly as I can.

Flunk rejoins the group, pretending to help, but eyes the tire swing longingly.

One Rifter holds the polearm tight, while the others begin tying up the creature.

Things look grim. . . .

“Globlet,” I say. “Now is the time to make—”

“Nachos!!” she exclaims. “FINALLY.”

“No, Globlet! Our move. Now is the time to make our move.”

“Oh.” Globlet is quiet for a moment, then she whispers urgently, “Use the Thing-A-Ma-Blasty Gadget Blaster!”

“The what?”

“The Thing. A. Ma. Blasty. Gadget. Blaster,” Globlet repeats slowly.

I stare at her, not comprehending.

Globlet huffs, then hops from my shoulder to my wrist. “This!” she says.

“Ohhh. The Gift.” The Gift is the multi-purpose weapon that Jack gave me last Christmas.

I never take it off—so much so that I’d actually forgotten I was wearing it.

“Yes, ‘the Gift,’” agrees Globlet, “except ‘the Gift’ is a not-cool name and ‘Thing-A-Ma-Blasty Gadget Blaster’ sounds super June Solo Adventure-y!”

Globlet has a point.

“All right. Time for a little Thing-A-Ma-Blasty Gadget Blaster action,” I say, sounding like Black Widow if Black Widow had a catch phrase but that catch phrase was the worst catch phrase.

I aim for the swing set, a dozen feet from the rifters. I yank a lever on the blaster, squeeze my fist, and—

ZA-POOF!

A pink Wham-O superball, filled with slices of sparkler, speeds through the air, and—

BOING!

The superball smacks the swing set’s top bar and ricochets straight up into the air.

“You missed!” Globlet says.

“Nope,” I say. “Just watch.”

And then—

The Rifters leap back and look up at the light show overhead. A whiny-voiced Rifter screeches, “What’s that!? WHO DONE THAT?!?”

A smaller, cuter Rifter squeaks, “BRIGHT LIGHT! BRIGHT LIGHT!”

They only have one moment to assess the situation, because in the second moment—

FWOOM!
BOING!

I fire a second superball—and a second round of fireworks explodes overhead. The Rifters are spooked, but their Ogres go full-on haywire berserk. There is a deafening, panicked—

RAWR!

At once: CHAOS! The Ogres are pushing, jostling, fleeing. Mounted Rifters tumble from their saddles. Rifters on foot run for cover. The Ogres stampede from the playground like the final bell just rang on a half day.

The Boss Rifter’s gravelly voice barks: “FOLLOW ME! WE GOTTA GET THEM OGRES!”

At once, the Rifters give chase. Lucky for us, these Rifters aren’t too bright: they all go, leaving the creature behind . . .

Lying in the dirt.

I take a breath. We did it. It worked. June Solo Adventure (featuring special guest star Globlet)has just achieved VICTORY NUMBER ONE!

“Now c’mon, Globlet,” I say as we hurry down through the structure. “Let’s set this thing free . . . ”