Chapter 6

THE ORANGE BALL OF THE SUN was just sinking into an onrushing line of heavy clouds as Ben made his way across the parking lot of the Last Chance Diner. He was headed to sentry duty aboard Lady Liberty, and he was clearly not happy. He kept looking over his shoulder toward the coffee shop as if hoping that someone would run after him to tell him he did not have to go through with it. “It isn’t fair,” he muttered to himself. “It just isn’t fair.”

Ben aimed a kick at a Coke can lying on the asphalt. He swung back his foot, kicked mightily at the red aluminum, and sent it skidding across the pavement. As he did this, Mike was catching up to him from the direction of the gas station.

Mike had a rolled-up sleeping bag over one shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ben,” Mike reassured his friend as he caught up. “I brought my sleeping bag. Jake and I will sack out on the floor. If you hear anything or get scared, we’ll be there, and you can just wake me up.”

Ben covered his face with both hands, still not willing to believe what he had gotten into. “It isn’t fair,” he repeated. “It was a setup, that’s what it was!”

As they approached the B-17, they saw Spence and Winnie working outside the plane.

“C’mon, Ben,” Mike encouraged his friend. “It’s not that bad.” Looking to his other friends, he said, “Hey, guys! Show him what you rigged up!”

“This is our low-tech alarm system,” Spence said sheepishly, gesturing to a rope leading from the plane to some garbage cans. “The rope is hooked up to the garbage cans behind the diner and runs around the perimeter of the plane. The bigfoot seems to be looking for food, so he should hit the garbage cans first.”

“Good thinking,” Mike said, patting Spence on the back. “I went camping one time, and I remember that the garbage cans were always the first thing that bears went for.”

The others crowded around to study the low-tech alarm system. Winnie smiled at Spence. “He trips the wire and rings a bell inside.”

Spence nodded, then said to Ben, “Which should, hopefully, wake you up.”

“Sleep?” Ben answered, shocked that anyone could even think it was possible. “With that thing out there? No way!”

Winnie picked up a bundle of blankets and loaded them into Ben’s arms. Spence placed a video camera on top of the pile.

“What’s all this for?” Ben asked.

“Well,” Spence answered, “if you do stay awake, we were hoping you might get that thing on tape.”

“The blankets are in case you get cold,” Winnie chimed in. “There’s supposed to be a storm blowing in tonight.”

Ben shook his head and looked up at the sky. “Perfect,” he muttered.

Suddenly a trash-can lid rattled off, pulling the rope tight, and shaking the bell wildly. The four friends spun around to see what was happening. To their disappointment, it was only Mike’s grandma dumping a load of garbage.

Even though it was a false alarm, the Last Chance Detectives were pleased with the success of the system.

As they walked toward Grandma Fowler, she called out hello to them, but their responses weren’t enthusiastic.

“Oh, hi, Grandma,” Mike said. “It’s only you, huh?”

“Only me?” she repeated. “Well, who were you expecting to take out the trash?”

“It’s not that,” Mike explained. “It’s just that Ben and I are going to sleep out here tonight. And Spence set up this alarm system in case the bigfoot comes around.”

“Well,” Kate said, smiling. “Sorry to disappoint you. I’m not hairy, I’m not eight feet tall, and I don’t wear size twenty-two shoes either.”

Winnie and Mike laughed, while Spence snickered and Ben let out a loud snort.

Lightning split the black, overcast night as the first drops of rain tapped the Plexiglas bubble of the top turret on the silver B-17. The drizzle thickened at once into a downpour, filling the fuselage of the bomber with a muffled roar, like a wave breaking on a nearby shore.

Outside the plane, the water filled cracks in the dirt, softening the hardpan clay into a thick mud.

Inside the aircraft, Mike slept soundly next to Jake. The dog was breathing loudly enough for the noise to be called snoring. But Mike did not lose any sleep because of it and neither did Ben.

Ben sat up in the watch chair, but he was sound asleep. The camera was still sitting in his lap. A small trail of drool led from Ben’s mouth down to his chin.

The rope of the low-tech warning line stretched between Mike and Ben, dividing the plane in half. Since Grandma Fowler, there had been nothing to disturb the bell, and it continued to remain silent.

Even though nothing seemed to have changed, Jake snorted abruptly and sat up. His shaggy ears were pricked to the alert, as if the dog sensed something was wrong or out of place. He turned his head toward the warning line and cocked it to one side as the bell rocked gently. The motion caused only a faint, slight clank of the clapper.

Jake stared down the length of the fuselage, and the hair on his neck bristled. The dog bared his upper teeth and gave a growl low in his throat. The warning line bounced again, harder this time, as Jake took a step toward the hatch.

Suddenly the bell clanged like a fire alarm, and Jake’s growls turned to barks. The alarm signal struggled and jolted on the end of the cable as if trying to tear itself loose and run away.

Startled, Mike snapped upright in the sleeping bag and looked all around the plane. He was momentarily confused about where he was and what was happening. When he realized what all the noise was about, he shouted, “Ben! Ben!”

Ben jumped in the chair as if he had received an electric shock, then rubbed his eyes with both fists.

“Ben! The bell! It’s Bigfoot!”

With that, Ben was wide awake—and very frightened. Mike scrambled out of his sleeping bag to look through the side window, but the warning line pulled tight and blocked his way. The fibers of the rope creaked under the strain as something either very heavy or very strong pulled against the cable.

“Mike!” Ben shouted. He fell from his chair and scrambled away toward the shelter of the back wall of the airplane. “What’s happening?”

Mike whispered, staring at the taut, jerking line with wide eyes, “I think we caught something.” But I don’t think we want it, he thought.

The rope pulled against the shelves on the wall, and Jake whined a warning. The bolts creaked and moaned, and Mike thought the whole plane was going to fold in half. Suddenly the shelves ripped loose from their fastenings against the wall and came crashing down toward him. The avalanche of supplies and tools spilled electronics on the floor with a shower of sparks as the rope was torn from the wall.

“I think it got away,” Ben said, petrified.

All the light inside the aircraft went out, and suddenly everything was quiet except for the constant murmur of the rain and Jake’s yelping punctuated by whines and growls. “Ben! Take a look out the window,” he ordered.

“Are you crazy?” Ben argued fiercely. “I’m not sticking my head up there! You look!” Another lightning bolt split the darkness in the distance, making the rain-washed sky glow all around it.

Mike crawled past Ben and put his fingers on the wall, sliding his head up slowly till just his eyes were above the window. Jake was not afraid to join him there, and both boy and dog peered into the darkness but saw nothing.

Remaining on all fours, Mike slithered cautiously toward the hatch that led to the round globe of the ball turret, which hung suspended beneath the plane.

“Mike! Where are you going?” Ben asked.

“To get a better look,” Mike replied as he folded the hatch back and slid into the opening feetfirst. He put his feet on the foot pedals and turned the bubble in a slow circle toward the trash cans behind the diner.

Ben popped his head over the edge of the ball and looked down at Mike. He had been in the turret many times himself but did not think that it was the safest place to be just then. It seemed to Ben that when it came to ferocious monsters, you wanted more protection between you and them, not less. “Come on, Mike! This is insane! Get out of there before it’s too late!”

“Just a second,” Mike answered as the rotating seat came full circle. “He’s got to be out there somewhere.” Mike heard a heavy thud behind him, followed by splashing water. He worked to turn the machinery around again and was instantly sorry that he had not taken Ben’s warning.

Just outside of where Mike crouched in the turret, the huge silhouette of a hairy creature lurked. Lightning flashed behind the beast, and it stomped another claw down in a mud puddle, just a few feet away from Mike’s horror-filled face. Mike screamed and stood up in the gunner’s seat, nearly hitting Ben as he scrambled out of the ball and back inside the bomber.