Free Crisis Zero by Chris Rylander Page A

that is, if you could keep it “entertained and hydrated,” or so he said.
    â€œYeah, Dillon,” I said. “We were just discussing where to buy the saw. I heard Home Depot’s got a great deal on skull saws right now. Just forty-nine ninety-nine. Plus tax.”
    Danielle reached over and pretended to measure Dillon’s skull with her hands.
    â€œCome on, get off me.” Dillon laughed, swatting at her hands.
    Danielle and I laughed as well, almost like old times. I was again reminded that at some point we’d probably have to tell Dillon the truth. We both couldn’thide being a secret agent from him for much longer. Especially with how bad things were getting between Medlock and the Agency. For all we knew, the whole town could find out about the Agency soon, if Medlock’s plan was carried out.
    â€œWhat’s up with you?” I asked him. “I haven’t seen you much lately. Danielle says you’re busy with researching some new theory.”
    â€œOh, yeah!” he said getting that excited look on his face. “This is the Big One, man. In fact, I could really use your help with it. Want to help me collect samples Wednesday morning before school?”
    â€œBefore school?” I said. “As in, like, five or six?”
    â€œYeah, man,” Dillon said excitedly. “That’s the best time to catch the fungus unaware—that or late at night. But I need more morning samples. Come on, we haven’t hung out in a while. It will be like old times. . . . Remember that summer when we went out every morning at six to see if we could amass the world’s largest collection of living earthworms?”
    To tell the truth, I didn’t really want to get up that early to help Dillon with one of his ridiculous and pointless theories. But, honestly, I also felt really bad about how much I’d been blowing him off lately. Besides, it’snot like I was really going to do any spy work at five in the morning.
    â€œOkay, sure, let’s do that,” I said. “Tell me about the theory so I have some background.”
    â€œAwesome, you’re the best!” he said, his eyes practically sparkling. “Well, I made some great progress just last night. Get this: I collected fourteen samples of fungus from the snowy fields north of our house. My early testing shows that they’re just a few years from being able to pull themselves from the dirt on their own, having survived two winters now somehow. A few of them were even starting to form legs! I sent them off for more testing, lab testing, you see, but the preliminary results are good. Or, well, not so good when considering what the fungus is planning. Because I also uncovered evidence that their first-phase goals will be to eliminate all steak sauce—don’t ask me why. But after that it gets even worse. . . .”
    I was sort of listening to him ramble on about his new theory, but mostly I was trying to keep an eye on Gus. I’d spotted him in line shortly after sitting down. He sat at the same table he normally did with a few of his friends and hangers-on. He seemed to be acting relatively normal. He laughed and joked and made fun of several kidspassing by. Typical Gus. Maybe he was just a sociopathic jerk and nothing more? Just because he was capable of supporting Medlock’s insane plans didn’t necessarily mean that he was actually the inside guy. That was pretty loose reasoning.
    As I sat there, thinking it all over, I suddenly realized that I had been staring at Gus the entire time. And now he was staring directly back at me. With a scowl on his face.
    A scowl that was now approaching me quickly from across the cafeteria.

CHAPTER 17
TRY MY RASPBERRY TOE JAM
    â€œO H, NO,” I SAID.
    â€œI know, right?” Dillon said excitedly. “If the strawberry jam didn’t make the fungi samples recoil in pain, then why would apricot? It makes no sense at all, and