THE CRAWLEY

Five minutes later, I stumble into The Crawley’s lair, far beneath the surface of Planet Cathedral.

It’s dark down here. Too dark to really see where I’m going. I hear dripping water somewhere, and there’s a bad smell in the air, like a sandwich made out of old cheese… and death.

My feet feel their way across the rocks as I go. “Hello?” I say. “Anybody here?”

“Good morning,” a voice answers from the shadows. “Come in, please.”

I take another step—but it’s one too many. The ground slips away beneath me, and the next thing I know, I’m falling through empty air.

The place where I land is soft but sticky. Long strands like superglue-covered ropes grab on to my arms and legs and don’t let go. I struggle, but that only makes things worse. Before I’ve even started to put up a fight, I’m completely immobilized in The Crawley’s web.

He’s not even trying to appear human down here. Why should he? I’m on his turf now—and at his mercy. One quick stab with those razor-sharp pincers, and he could drain me like a juice box.

“And how are you this morning, Rafe?” he asks, cool as an eight-legged cucumber.

“I’m okay,” I tell him. It’s important that I stay calm too. They say The Crawley can smell fear a mile away.

They also say he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

“I want to ask you about a little incident we had yesterday,” he says. “Something involving a couple of water balloons?”

Not water balloons, I think. Rubber gloves. Of course, I’m not stupid. The less I say here, the better.

“Do you know anything about that?” he asks me.

“I heard about it,” I say.

“That’s all?” he says. “So you don’t know who was responsible?”

“No, sir.”

I may be totally unarmed, but there is one weapon I can use. It’s called denial. As long as The Crawley doesn’t have any proof, I still have a small chance of getting out of here alive.

He starts to circle the lair. I can’t even turn my mummified head, so I lose sight of him for a minute.

When he comes around again, there’s something in his hand.

“Do you know what this is, Rafe?” he says. At first, it looks like a plain folder. Then I see my name, and the words HILLS VILLAGE MIDDLE SCHOOL across the front. “It seems you had quite a year last year. Got into a bit of trouble on your home planet, did you?”

My mind scrambles for something to say.

“That was all just a misunderstanding,” I tell him. “I’ve changed since then. I turned over a new leaf. That’s not me anymore.…”

Now I’m saying too much. I can tell he’s not buying it. I try to look him in the eye, but it’s hard to know which of those six eyes to look into.

“Rafe, I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says. “Are you sure you don’t know anything about all this?”

“I’m sure!” I tell him. “I swear!”

The lair goes quiet as he stares me down for a good long time. All I can hear now are those pincers clicking away, ready to start slicing and dicing at any moment.

But then The Crawley reaches up and cuts right through the threads of his own web. A second later, I fall out onto the floor in a heap.

“You can go,” he says.

Already I’m back on my feet, running for daylight as fast as I can.

“But I’ve got my eye on you, Rafe!” he screeches after me. “I’d hate to see what happens if you land in here again!”

Yeah, I think. Him and me both.