Free The Wizzle War by Gordon Korman

sure wish I could help you,” said Bruno. “Of course, we’re a little understaffed here.” He looked pointedly across the room at Boots.
    “I’m not listening,” muttered Boots.
    “Why don’t you go to Miss Scrimmage?” suggested Bruno.
    “We tried that,” said Cathy. “She’s more scared of Peabody than we are. She spends most of her time in hiding.”
    “So what?” said Bruno. “It’s Miss Scrimmage’s school.”
    “And Macdonald Hall is The Fish’s school. What’s The Fish doing for you?”
    “I see your point,” said Bruno. “I can’t really figure out what The Fish thinks of all this Wizzle business.”
    “None of this helps us with Peabody,” insisted Diane, “and it’s getting late. Come on, Cathy, let’s go.”
    “Why don’t you try the softer approach?” suggested Bruno. “Get the whole school together and have a cry in.”
    “That’s a great idea!” exclaimed Cathy. “Peabody’s so military that she probably doesn’t know how to deal with tears! And we can give her buckets of them!”
    The girls left and Elmer, his voice restored, whispered, “Shouldn’t we go over to my room? Aren’t we going to test the —?”
    “Shhh, Elm!” With his thumb, Bruno motioned toward Boots. “Okay, let’s go.”
    “I hope nobody minds if I go to bed,” called Boots sarcastically.
    * * *
    Walter C. Wizzle was sleeping when the feeling came over him. It was a shaking, a vibration that he felt from deep within his body. He sat bolt upright in bed and looked about the darkened room. Perhaps it was something he’d eaten.
    He went to the bathroom to search for a stomach remedy and noticed that the toothbrush was trembling in its glass, the shower doors were shaking, the soap was vibrating in its dish. Even the floor under his feet seemed to be — what was that? Yes, there was a distant roar. What was going on here?
    He ran out into the hall. All the fixtures were rattling too, and all the pictures on the wall. He ran into the small kitchen. All the crockery was clacking together. He opened the refrigerator door. A dozen eggs slopped down onto the floor.
    Suddenly the roar stopped and the rattling ceased. He rushed to the window and looked at all the other buildings. The whole campus was in darkness. No one else was up. How strange!

Chapter 7
Double Fault
    Bruno Walton sat beside Elmer Drimsdale in second period class, geography. Mr. Thomas, the teacher, was lecturing on the earth’s crust formation. Mr. Wizzle sat at the back of the class, making elaborate notes.
    “… and that’s all. Are there any questions?”
    Bruno elbowed Elmer.
    Elmer stood up. “Sir, I would like to make a special presentation to the class.”
    Everyone groaned. Elmer’s special presentations were notorious at Macdonald Hall.
    “By all means. Go ahead, Drimsdale,” said Mr. Thomas.
    Elmer walked to the front of the class and set up several charts and sketches along the blackboard ledge. “My project deals with the Great Lakes–St. Lawrence Lowlands fault line.”
    Mr. Thomas frowned. “What fault line?”
    “The earthquake fault line, sir,” replied Elmer blandly.
    At the back of the room Wizzle’s head snapped up to attention.
    “The Great Lakes–St. Lawrence Lowlands fault line is not as well known as the San Andreas fault line in California, but nevertheless it exists, representing a clear and present danger to the area. The fault itself has been dormant since the Lower Cretaceous Period. However, a hairline offshoot of the fault,which I have named the Elmer Drimsdale fault because I pinpointed it, is quite active. The end of this line actually extends to the Macdonald Hall grounds, passing directly underneath the south lawn.”
    Now Elmer had Mr. Wizzle’s full attention. That strange incident last night! An earthquake!
    “Seismic activity has been rather light of late,” Elmer went on, “but if you refer to this chart, you can see that a quake of major proportions is