EMMET WAS RELEASED FROM THE HOSPITAL THE NEXT day and had to go immediately back to school. After the incident with the Blood Jackets, the State Health Department had gone through Tasker Middle School and cleaned out all of the Blood Jacket remains and … gunk … so classes could resume. “We have to recover and move on,” the school official had said. Emmet said pfft. Let them recover and move on. The school officials hadn’t been chased through the school by a screeching mass of biting, stinging horror-movie monsters.

When Emmet arrived at school that morning, it smelled clean. Like, über-clean. As if the entire building had been dipped in bleach. Calvin’s mom dropped them off like usual. If she noticed that they were quiet and not talking, she didn’t say anything. Emmet knew the way adults worked. If his dad had picked up on the fact that the two of them were squabbling, then Dr. Geaux, with her superior momdar, was perfectly aware of what was going on.

The antiseptic smell of the building was strangely reassuring. The day the Blood Jackets had attacked Emmet and his friends during the band concert, they’d had lunch like usual. Stuke noticed a bunch of Blood Jacket goop dripping out of one of the vents in the lunchroom. Remembering it made Emmet shudder. It was gray, gooey, and gross. Hopefully whoever cleaned up the school had been thorough. Emmet had half a mind to inspect the vents himself and make sure the Blood Jackets were really all gone.

“Emmet,” Calvin said as they made their way through the crowded halls to their lockers.

“What?”

“We need to talk,” he said.

“About what?”

“You know very well about what,” Calvin said.

“Sorry, Calvin,” Emmet said. “I’m not going to do this. When you came back from the swamp, you said you knew who Dr. Catalyst was. Since then you’ve been as silent as the Sphinx. I don’t get it. But that guy is running around out there, doing real harm. Last night I thought I was going to die. But you haven’t said anything.” He walked faster, leaving Calvin behind. Emmet was working up a real head of steam, and he didn’t want to blow up.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Calvin said, hustling to keep up. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Emmet. I don’t … I haven’t … I’m just not sure anymore. I thought I was, but I’m not. I have a reason, but I can’t tell you.”

“I’m sure you do,” Emmet said. “You have a reason for everything you do.”

By then Emmet had reached his locker and Calvin stopped, not saying anything. For a minute, Emmet thought Calvin would give up and head to his locker. It was about five minutes until the first bell. Calvin didn’t like being late. But he stayed there while Emmet stowed his backpack and got his books organized for classes.

“Emmet. In the swamp … I thought I was sure … I mean … pretty sure. But the more I thought about it, I didn’t have any real evidence. I still don’t. And you can’t go around accusing someone of something like this… .”

Emmet slammed his locker door shut.

“Spare me. If you know something about someone, all you need to do is tell your mom. They put the name and face out there. If the person is innocent, they come in and prove their innocence. The task force will just question them. If they’re not the bad guy, they get to go home. I just don’t see what the problem is. If they’re guilty, then their name and face are all over the place, and maybe they get caught.”

“I know … I … but …” Calvin stammered.

Emmet held up his hand, just like his dad had the night before.

“Save it,” he said as the bell rang.

Emmet stormed off and went to class.

He was in a foul mood all day. At lunchtime, he sat off by himself at a table with a bunch of kids he didn’t know. Emmet was still relatively new at school, and had been hanging out with Calvin, Stuke, Riley, and Raeburn since pretty much the first day. They sat at their usual table, shooting confused looks his way, except Calvin, who wore his usual stony face. Emmet knew they weren’t getting anything out of him, either, but the others were content to give him some space.

The kids Emmet sat with were okay. They knew that his dad was working on the Dr. Catalyst case, and that was all they wanted to talk about. That, and whatever had happened to Dr. Newton. He still hadn’t been found after allegedly being kidnapped, and everyone was assuming the worst. The school had extra counselors on hand to talk to kids who might be upset about it. A lot of students at Tasker liked Dr. Newton. He wasn’t exactly Emmet’s favorite teacher, but Emmet didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. Unless he really was Dr. Catalyst. Then Emmet might be okay with a little maiming.

When all this mess had started, Emmet had been sure that Dr. Newton was really Dr. Catalyst. And if Dr. Catalyst could fake his own death, Dr. Newton could certainly have faked his own kidnapping and disappearance. But Calvin saw Dr. Catalyst up close at the aquarium, and his arm had been all mangled up from the not-so-unfortunate Pterogator accident that saved Emmet’s life. Not long after, Dr. Newton had shown up at school with a cast conveniently covering the same arm. It was still suspicious to Emmet. The teacher had said it was because of a car accident.

Still, as the days went by, and the search for Dr. Newton become more and more hopeless, Emmet worried that maybe Dr. Newton hadn’t been Dr. Catalyst after all. Maybe something bad had just happened to him.

These new kids were trying to be nice to Emmet, and he tried to be polite in return, but he wolfed down his lunch and excused himself way ahead of the bell.

His friends left him alone for the rest of the day. Emmet kind of sleepwalked through his classes. The afternoon seemed to drag, but the last bell finally rang. Calvin’s mom always had a squad car from the Florida City PD drive them to Calvin’s house after school, then the car would drive by every so often just to make sure they were okay. They also had to check in with Mrs. Clawson, Calvin’s nearly blind and deaf next-door neighbor, and sometimes sitter. Their parents didn’t want to keep them under lock and key, but Dr. Geaux was cautious.

“Emmet,” Calvin said as they walked down the driveway toward his house.

“Don’t even,” Emmet said.

Calvin sighed. Mrs. Clawson was watering some flowers in her garden when they walked past. Usually she was in her living room watching game shows with the volume on the eardrum-busting setting.

“Hello, boys!” she said. Emmet and Calvin waved back and mumbled hello.

Calvin’s mom allowed them to stay at the house by themselves until Emmet’s dad picked him up after work. When Emmet wasn’t busy not speaking to Calvin, they usually spent their time in Calvin’s really cool tree house doing homework, or trying to come up with a way to catch Dr. Catalyst. Mostly Emmet tried to come up with the plans. Calvin didn’t like falling behind on his homework.

But ever since the night Calvin had disappeared into the swamp, and Emmet had set out to find him and nearly gotten himself and his friends eaten alive in the process, they mostly passed the time ignoring each other. Not that Emmet wasn’t grateful for Calvin showing up out of nowhere to rescue them. He just couldn’t quite believe his once best friend would keep a secret as important as the identity of a deranged madman to himself.

These days Emmet usually stayed in the living room with Apollo, and avoided Calvin completely.

Except today.

Because today, when they walked in the front door, there was a man sitting on the couch in the living room. He was older, with shoulder-length black hair that was tinged with gray streaks. His kind face was lined and tan. When he spotted Calvin, he smiled. And Apollo was sitting calmly and comfortably in his lap. He looked a little bit like Calvin, and Emmet took a guess that they might be related. But he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Who are —” Emmet shouted, dropping his backpack and digging into his pocket for his cell phone.

Calvin reached out and touched his arm. “It’s okay, Emmet. It’s okay.”

“Hello, nephew,” the old man said. His voice was deep. He sounded like someone who would narrate a nature documentary.

“Uncle Yaha?” Calvin asked. “What are you doing here?”

“You know what,” the old man said. He looked down at Apollo and stroked his head. Apollo rolled over in the old man’s lap, yawning and stretching out.

“Uncle?”

“It’s time to put a stop to this, Calvin. Call your mother.”

And Calvin did.