“But I was wrong. I’m so sorry, Dana. So sorry. I had hoped to keep you alive. But I see now that is impossible.”
30
He dragged me to the door. He stopped and reached into the pocket of his lab coat. Reached for the control unit to open the door. I saw my chance. He had me by only one hand. With a hard burst of strength, I pulled away. He let out a cry. Reached both hands for me. Missed. I ran to the other side of the lab. I turned at the wall to face him. He had a strange smile on his face. “Dana, there’s nowhere to run,” he said softly. My eyes flashed around the room. I don’t know what I was searching for. I had seen it all. And I knew that he was telling the truth. Dr. Gray stood blocking the only door. The long window was too heavy and thick to break through. And it didn’t open. There were no other windows. No other doors. No ways to escape. “What are you going to do now, Dana?” Dr. Gray asked softly, the strange smile stuck on his face. His blue eyes locked coldly on mine. “Where are you going to go?” I opened my mouth to reply. But I had nothing to say. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” Dr. Gray said softly, calmly. “You’re going to stay in here. In this cold, cold room. I’m going to leave you now and make sure you’re locked in.” His smile grew wider. “Then do you know what I’m going to do? Do you?” “What?” I choked out. “I’m going to make it colder in here. I’m going to make it colder than a freezer.” “No—!” I protested. His smile faded. “I trusted you, Dana. I trusted you. But you broke that trust. You let them touch you. You let them form this—this carpet! You ruined them, Dana! You ruined my egg monsters!” “I—I didn’t do anything!” I stammered. I balled my hands into fists. But I felt so helpless. Helpless and afraid. “You can’t freeze me in here!” I cried. “I didn’t do anything! You can’t leave me in here to freeze!” “Of course I can,” Dr. Gray replied coldly. “This is my lab. My own little world. I can do whatever I want.” He pulled the little black remote unit from his lab coat pocket. He pointed it at the door and pushed a button. The door swung open. He started to leave. “Good-bye, Dana,” he called.
31
“No—stop!” I called. Dr. Gray turned from the doorway. And as he turned, the blanket of egg creatures rose up. It stood straight up—and flung itself over him. It dropped on top of the scientist with a hard thud. “Hey—” He let out an angry cry. The cry was muffled by the heavy yellow blanket of egg creatures. The egg blanket covered him. I watched him struggle underneath it. And I listened to his muffled cries. He was squirming and twisting beneath the blanket. But he couldn’t toss it off. And he couldn’t slide out from under it. He crumpled to the floor, and the blanket crumpled with him. I watched it seething and bubbling on top of him. Then I didn’t wait another second. I took a deep breath—and I ran across the room. I darted past the egg blanket with Dr. Gray twisting and thrashing underneath it. Out the door. Down the long hall to the front of the lab. Yes! A few seconds later, I pushed open the front door and burst outside. Breathing hard, sucking in the sweet, fresh air. A beautiful morning. A red ball of a sun still rising over the spring-green trees. The sky clear and blue. I glanced around. I could see a paperboy on his bike halfway up the block. No one else on the street. I turned and ran around to the side of the building. The grass smelled so wonderful! The morning air so warm and fresh. I was so thrilled to be outside! I had to get home. I had a hunch—and the hunch was right. I spotted my bike, resting against the back wall of the lab, hidden by a large Dumpster. I leaped onto it and started to pedal. Riding a bike never felt as exciting, so thrilling! I was getting away, away from