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  MAD SCIENTIST

  The doctor turned back to the table and brought the needle up next to Jim’s arm. Before Jim could protest, the little man jabbed the wide tip into his arm and pushed something under his skin.

  “Wait a minute!” Jim grabbed at the syringe and jerked it out of his arm. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re not taking blood.”

  The doctor stepped back, clasped his hands in front of him, and quietly observed his patient.

  Jim tried to stand up. The room was whirling around him. He let go of the table and tried to take a step.

  The floor was coming closer.

  Suddenly everything went black.

  OTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY:

  JOURNEY, Patricia MacLachlan

  SHILOH, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

  MISSING MAY, Cynthia Rylant

  THE SECRET FUNERAL OF SLIM JIM THE SNAKE, Elvira Woodruff

  AWFULLY SHORT FOR THE FOURTH GRADE, Elvira Woodruff

  THE SUMMER I SHRANK MY GRANDMOTHER, Elvira Woodruff

  HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell

  HOW TO FIGHT A GIRL, Thomas Rockwell

  HOW TO GET FABULOUSLY RICH, Thomas Rockwell

  BEETLES, LIGHTLY TOASTED, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

  YEARLING BOOKS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.

  For a complete listing of all Yearling titles,

  write to

  Dell Readers Service,

  P.O. Box 1045,

  South Holland, IL 60473.

  Published by

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers

  a division of

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

  1540 Broadway

  New York, New York 10036

  Copyright © 1996 by Gary Paulsen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

  The trademarks Yearling® and Dell® are registered in the

  U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-80398-6

  Series design: Barbara Berger

  Interior illustration by Michael David Biegel

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Dear Readers:

  Real adventure is many things—it’s danger and daring and sometimes even a struggle for life or death. From competing in the Iditarod dogsled race across Alaska to sailing the Pacific Ocean, I’ve experienced some of this adventure myself. I try to capture this spirit in my stories, and each time I sit down to write, that challenge is a bit of an adventure in itself.

  You’re all a part of this adventure as well. Over the years I’ve had the privilege of talking with many of you in schools, and this book is the result of hearing firsthand what you want to read about most—power-packed action and excitement.

  You asked for it—so hang on tight while we jump into another thrilling story in my World of Adventure.

  CHAPTER 1

  “We’re almost there, Jimbo.” Jim Stanton’s father grinned at him in the rearview mirror.

  His mother turned sideways in the front seat of their old brown station wagon and gave her sandy-haired son an encouraging smile. “Mr. Kincaid says Folsum is a great place for kids.”

  Jim didn’t look up. He had his baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, and his lanky body was slumped miserably in the seat.

  He knew he was being very selfish but he couldn’t help it. After all, it was asking a lot of a guy to give up everything.

  His father had just received the job of a lifetime—a post at Folsum National Laboratories in New Mexico. He had been handpicked by the company’s president, Jefferson Kincaid, and would be making three times the salary he had earned back in California.

  The problem was, Jim had to leave all his friends, and worst of all he had to give up his position as pitcher in his hometown summer league with a perfect no-loss record and only two games left to play.

  “Don’t worry about him, Mom.” Laura, Jim’s eight-year-old sister, scooted forward and whispered loudly to their mother in a teasing voice. “He’s just having Heather Atkinson withdrawal.” Laura fell back against the seat and covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.

  Jim thought seriously about jerking one of Laura’s long blond braids. But he didn’t. The truth was he did miss Heather. She wasn’t his girlfriend or anything, but who knew … if only they weren’t moving.

  He raised his cap a little and stared at his father’s back. Robert Stanton was a research scientist. He worked hard to support his family, and his big chance had finally come. The Wellington Foundation, along with Folsum Laboratories, had heard of the project Dr. Stanton had been working on dealing with a new plastic that could withstand tremendous heat.

  The family would live in the small, elite community of Folsum, nestled at the base of New Mexico’s Sacramento Mountains, while Dr. Stanton completed his research. Jim’s mother had read Jim the brochures the company sent and had shown him the pictures of their new house. To her it was all incredible. For the first time in their lives they would be living in a really nice house in an equally nice neighborhood.

  “Oh, look, Robert—there’s the school.”

  Jim watched his mother grab his father’s arm excitedly. She had gone on and on about the dumb school. It boasted the highest grade-point averages and the most distinguished alumni in the state, possibly the nation.

  “Wait till they get ahold of the Ditz Brain,” Jim mumbled just loud enough for his sister to hear.

  She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re the one who can’t spell ‘cat.’ They probably won’t even let you in the front door of the school.” Laura folded her arms smugly.

  Their father looked in the rearview mirror. “That’ll be enough of that.” He turned the corner and drove down a short street with houses on either side. He pulled the station wagon into the driveway of a large two-story brick house.

  “You can get out now, kids. We’re here.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Jim slammed the car door. He had to admit, the house was impressive. The lawn was perfectly trimmed and the shrubs looked as if they had been manicured. Not one blade of grass was out of place. The other houses on the block looked almost exactly the same—except that they all had late-model cars sitting in their driveways.

  “Must be a retirement community,” Jim said. “I don’t see any kids around.”

  His mother hugged him playfully. “Don’t worry, kiddo. They’ll probably be around later, after we’ve had time to unpack and get a few things in place.”

  “Everything’s already in place.” His father reached for a suitcase on top of the station wagon. “The company took care of it.”

  Jim’s mother looked puzzled. “You mean they put away our dishes, clothes, and everything?”

  “Mr. Kincaid said you’d be pleasantly surprised, Mary.”

  Mrs. Stanton frowned. “I don’t know, Robert. How would they know where I wanted everything? I mean, really …”

  Jim’s father led the way to the front door and unlocked it. He pushed it open and let his family walk in first.

  “Wow!” Laura skipped around the room. “Look at all the brand-new furniture.”

  Jim took his cap off and ran his hand through his hair. “You must have the wrong house, Dad. This isn’t our stuff.”

  “It is now. The company took care of it. They put all our old things in storage.” Dr. Stanton waved his hand. “All this is ours.”

  “Does that go for the kitchen too?” Mrs. Stanton yelled from the next room. “All the dishes and pans are brand new.”

  Jim’s father grinned. “Wait till you see the bedrooms.”

  Laura and Jim looked at each other and then raced up the stairs. Jim pushed open the first door on the left. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Signed pictures of major-league baseball stars covered the walls. The furniture was dark oak. It all looked like something out of an expensive catalog. There were even clothes in the closets and drawers.

  The walls of Laura’s room were painted her favorite color—pink. Her bedroom set was white. In the center of the large canopy bed was a big, beautiful doll with long golden curls. Jim stood in the doorway and watched Laura timidly step toward the bed. She stopped and glanced back at him.

  He rolled his eyes. “Pick it up, stupid. They put it there for you.”

  That was all she needed to hear. She ran to the bed and cradled the doll in her arms.

  Jim
walked back to his room and plopped down on the bed. He grudgingly looked around. The bedroom was twice as big as his old one.

  His mother’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Jim! Laura! Come down here. We have visitors.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Jim slid down the banister with Laura giggling and racing close behind him. When they reached the bottom they saw a woman and two kids, a boy about Jim’s age and a little girl, standing stiffly in the living room and staring at them.

  “This is Mrs. Tyler.” Mrs. Stanton gestured toward the petite, well-dressed woman, who was holding a platter of cookies. “And these are her children, William and Karen.”

  “Please. Just call me Marcia,” the woman said in a nervous, bubbly voice. She handed the platter to Mrs. Stanton. “These are for you. It’s our way of saying welcome to the company.”

  The boy put his hand out to Jim. He smiled, but it was an odd smile, artificial and definitely not friendly. “We are very glad to have you here.”

  Jim shook the clammy hand and looked the boy up and down. He was wearing dress pants, a white starched shirt, and polished shoes. “Thanks, William. Hey, could you show me around town?”

  The boy dropped Jim’s hand and looked anxiously up at his mother. The woman put her arm around her son’s shoulders. “I’m afraid not. Perhaps later … you know, when you’ve been here longer.” She propelled the two children toward the door.

  “Won’t you stay and have a glass of iced tea or something?” Jim’s mother asked.

  The woman kept moving. “Thank you, no. We were instructed—that is, we were chosen—to welcome you and then let you get on with your day. It was so nice to meet you all. Goodbye!” She pulled the door shut behind her.

  Jim’s father raised one eyebrow. “Strange woman.”

  “She might be strange, but boy, can she cook! Taste one of these.” Laura held up one of the small white cookies. It had a perfect red rosette in the center.

  “Be careful, Laura, they probably have some kind of poison in them.” Jim sat down on the arm of the new couch. “I hope everybody in this town isn’t as weird as they are.” He leaned back and sighed. “Did you see how that William was dressed, and what happened when I asked him to show me around?”

  Jim’s father hesitated, thinking; then he shrugged. “Why don’t you go out and see the neighborhood for yourself? Your mom and I have a couple of things to catch up on here anyway. Take Laura and be back by supper.”

  Jim thought about asking if he could leave Laura behind, but the look on his father’s face already told him the answer.

  “Okay. Come on, squirt. Let’s go exploring and see what kind of mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.”

  Laura followed him through the door and down the sidewalk. “Look, Jim. There’s somebody.” She pointed at the mailman, who was carefully sorting through the letters he held as he walked toward them.

  The short, balding man stopped in front of them. “I’d say you two are new around here.”

  Jim nodded. “How did you know?”

  The man looked nervously behind him. “When you’ve been with the company a while you … well, let’s just say that you don’t quite fit the mold … yet.”

  The man looked around again and then moved past them. Over his shoulder he said in a loud voice, “So nice to have you here.”

  “Everyone keeps saying that,” Laura said.

  “I know,” Jim said, and started walking. “But somehow I get the feeling they don’t really mean it.”

  They walked until they reached downtown Folsum. Each neighborhood they passed through looked exactly like theirs.

  “I don’t know who designed this town, but they sure didn’t have much of an imagination.” Jim looked at his watch. “We have just enough time to get a look at Main Street and maybe play a fast video game before we have to head back.”

  Laura pulled on the back of his T-shirt. “Jimmy, I don’t like this place. Where are all the people?”

  Jim shrugged and looked at the deserted sidewalks. “Maybe we’ve moved into a town full of blood-sucking zombies that only come out at midnight.”

  Laura stopped. “That’s not funny. I want to go home.”

  “I’m only kidding, squirt. Look, there are people in that grocery store across the street.”

  They watched a woman who could have been Mrs. Tyler’s twin sister, except that she was taller and had darker hair, come out of the store and put a sack of groceries in her car. A little girl dressed in a white pinafore almost identical to Karen Tyler’s followed her.

  Jim raised one eyebrow. “Must be a shortage of clothes stores.” He felt another tug on the back of his shirt. “What is it now?”

  Laura pointed to a sign in the window of a small ice cream shop. “Can we go in?” She looked at him hopefully.

  “Normally I’d say forget it. But since I don’t see an arcade, it looks like ice cream is the only thing this town has going for it.”

  Jim pushed the door open and a little bell jingled from above. They sat down at the counter and waited. Finally a man dressed in white came in from one of the back rooms.

  The man’s eyes narrowed when he saw them. “You two aren’t from the mountains, are you?”

  Jim shook his head. “We’re the Stantons. We just moved in today. My dad’s a scientist.”

  “Oh.” The man’s face changed. He smiled the same sort of strange smile William had given them earlier. “That’s different, then. What can I get for you?”

  They placed their orders and sat on the stools, silently eating. No other customers came in. Jim noticed that the waiter never moved very far away, almost as if he was keeping an eye on them.

  When they finished, Jim stepped up to the cash register to pay. Before he could get his money out, the man held his hand up. “It’s on the house, son.”

  Jim looked confused. “Thanks, mister.”

  The man gave him the strange smile again. “No problem. Welcome to the company.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be careful.”

  Mrs. Stanton poured a glass of orange juice and pushed it across the counter. “We’ve only been here a couple of days and you don’t know your way around yet.”

  Jim took a gulp of the juice and started for the front door. “I’m only going for a short hike in the mountains. Besides, how am I ever going to know where anything is if I don’t get out there and find out?”

  “All right, but just be sure you’re back here by two o’clock. We have to go down to the lab for our physicals.”

  Jim set the glass down. “The whole family has to have physicals?”

  His mother nodded. “Something to do with the company insurance policy.”

  “Why can’t you just give them my last report? It’s only three months old.”

  “I already thought of that, but your dad says the company insists on giving its own.”

  “I guess it won’t kill me.” He grabbed a leftover cookie and headed out the door. “See you later.”

  He stopped on the front step and looked around. As usual, there were no people in sight, but he thought he saw a curtain move on the second floor of the last house on the block. He stared at the window a moment, then shrugged and started up into the hills.

  The woods were thick with brush. Sometimes he had to break off branches to get through. The trees were still green and beautiful, even though summer was drawing to a close.

  Jim thought of his friends back home and how different it was going to be to start school without them this year. He shook the thought from his mind. It felt good to get outside the town. Folsum was stuffy and there wasn’t anything to do. No mall or arcade. They didn’t even have a ball field.

  He walked aimlessly for almost a mile until he came to a meadow. Off to one side of the clearing was a small, dark pond.

  “All right!” Jim said out loud. “Things are starting to look up.”

  He raced to the edge of the water and skipped a rock halfway across the surface. He picked up another rock and pretended to be an announcer.

  “And here is the world-famous White Sox pitcher, Strikeout King Jim Stanton, stepping up to the mound.”

  He reared back to wind up for the pitch.

  Before he could let it go, another rock came sailing out of the woods behind him and skipped the entire length of the pond.