EMMET WOKE UP WHEN THE CAR HE WAS RIDING IN jolted over a big rut in the road. It was still dark. His face hurt. It hurt a lot. His vision was blurry. He would have tried to touch his face to find out what was wrong with his eyes, but his hands were restrained somehow. He thought one of his eyes might be swollen shut.

As he slowly came to, Emmet realized he was lying in the backseat of a car. Another big jolt in the road both hurt and further brought him awake. Emmet rose up, peering out of the one eye that he could open all the way. He was in a police car. There was a cage between himself and the driver.

“Dr. Catalyst, I presume?” Emmet said. He tasted a little blood in his mouth. He must have split his lip when he collided with the pole. “I’ve always wanted to say that. Once you were caught.”

There was just enough illumination from the dashboard to see the driver’s dark eyes glare at Emmet from the rearview mirror. Then he laughed. It was kind of a snort, really.

“I’m not the one who’s caught.” He sneered at Emmet.

“It’s only a matter of time, Doc. Is it okay if I call you Doc? It’s a lot less formal. And Dr. Catalyst … well, as villain names go, you could have done better. You should have went with Extremo, or Nut-Job-a-Tron, or something. Most people think a catalyst is a house cat. Like a tabby or a calico.”

“Shut up,” Dr. Catalyst spat. “Just shut your mouth.”

“Why? What are you going to do? Stop the car? Teach me a lesson? I just thought we might as well get to know each other. Before the cops get here.”

“The cops aren’t coming,” he said.

“Geez, you really aren’t very bright are you? Ever since you kidnapped my dad, I’ve been wearing a tracker. So has Calvin and everyone on the task force.” Emmet looked out the window. “Probably a helicopter following us right now.” He was lying. He was supposed to keep his cell phone with him at all times. It could be tracked. He had screwed up, leaving it at Calvin’s house.

Dr. Catalyst stared at Emmet in the rearview mirror. Emmet could tell from his smug expression that the man sensed he was lying.

“You’re not wearing a tracker. I swept you for any device and there was nothing on you. I have tech better than anything the task force has. You’re clean. Now shut up.”

“So tell me, Dr. Cat Litter, what’s the endgame here? Going to drug me and put me in a cage like you did with my dad? Give me a couple of Pterogators as prison guards? That really worked out well, didn’t it? How is your arm, by the way? ’Cause when that beast of yours took a bite … wow … I’ll bet that stung. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, you’re a really lousy kidnapper. I mean, you couldn’t even hold on to my dog. Some genius environmentalist whacko you are.” As Emmet talked, he kept looking out the windows, hoping he could figure out where they were. The road was definitely not blacktop. He heard gravel pinging against the bottom of the car, and there were trees and bushes close to the road. They were in the middle of nowhere.

“Oh, there won’t be any prolonged kidnapping this time. In fact, I’m going to give you a chance to escape. All you have to do is pass a little test. The instructor who is running it has a particular interest in you. Well, actually, it’s more an interest in how the meat on your bones tastes. I believe you’ve already met your instructor. A couple of times this week, in fact?”

Emmet had to admit that made him a little nervous. The face of the creature that had now twice attacked him, its mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, flashed in his memory. For a second, Emmet was overcome by a fearful shudder that ran through him.

He had to keep Dr. Catalyst off his game. The angrier he could make Dr. Catalyst — the longer he could keep him talking — the more likely it was that the loon would slip up and reveal something about where they were going. It could give Emmet a clue about which direction to take when he escaped. If he escaped.

No. When he escaped. Think positive, Emmet told himself. Calvin has the cavalry on the way.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” Emmet said. “I dozed off a little at the beginning there. Something about a test? Speaking of … that reminds me, I’ve got an algebra test this week. I should study for that if we’re going to be gone for a while. You wouldn’t mind making a quick stop to pick up my homework, would you?”

Dr. Catalyst didn’t answer. They kept driving down the rutted road. Each bump sent Emmet bouncing in the seat. The farther they went, the more disheartened Emmet became. Wherever this place was, it had to be way off the grid.

“Geez,” Emmet said. “Two words: shock absorbers.”

Still nothing.

“So back to this plan of yours,” Emmet said. “What have you got? I mean, you’ve screwed up everything else so far. The park service has captured almost all of the Pterogators. From what I hear, the Muraecudas haven’t been seen in weeks, and the Blood Jackets are dropping out of the sky. All you’ve done is make everything worse —”

“Keep talking,” Dr. Catalyst snapped. “Once you’re alone with my newest creation you’ll see just how much worse it can get. If I’m lucky, the first thing the Swamp Cat bites off is your smart mouth.”

“Ha, good one!” Emmet said. But in truth he looked out the window and winced. He’d already met this new creation, and it had nearly clawed three fully grown adults to death in a matter of moments. The idea of getting up close and personal with this “Swamp Cat” again terrified Emmet.

The car slowed down, and they turned off the road onto an even more narrow lane. A few yards in, an automatic gate opened, and they pulled up to a large barn. A door on the barn rose, and Dr. Catalyst pulled the car inside.

“We’re here. I’m going to bring you out and lock you up. Don’t bother trying anything. There’s no one anywhere nearby that can help you. No one even knows where this place is.”

Emmet didn’t say anything as Dr. Catalyst climbed out of the car and opened the back door. Emmet sat still and made the man reach inside to pull him out. Dr. Catalyst had wrapped plastic flex-cuffs on Emmet’s hands, and they were now digging into his wrists.

“What’s the matter?” Dr. Catalyst asked. “No snappy comeback? No insulting comments? No witty one-liners? Has the ‘cat’ got your tongue, Emmet? If it doesn’t now, it will soon enough. And the rest of you, too.”

He shoved Emmet toward a door.

“Isn’t that funny. All your bravado. Your smart mouth. Now you’ve got nothing to say?” Dr. Catalyst was gloating now. Time to put an end to that.

“Oh, I’ve got something to say, all right,” Emmet said as Dr. Catalyst opened the door and shoved him into a small, windowless room. He stood in the doorway, glaring at Emmet.

“And what is that?” Dr. Catalyst said.

Emmet stared back at him, doing his best not to appear scared or nervous.

“Whatever it is you’re going to do? Just get on with it. I’m bored.”

Dr. Catalyst smirked and slammed the door. Then Emmet heard the door lock shut.

He was trapped.