“Wait, let me see if I can get a better look,” Oscar said. He peered down the hallway at the eyes. There were a lot of them, but whatever they were, they were smaller than he’d anticipated. From what Biscuit had said, he was expecting something big. Bigger than Biscuit, anyway. (Not that thatwas very big. Biscuit was kind of tiny, to be honest.)
“I’m going in,” he said, launching himself off of Butterbean’s head. He flew closer to the door, keeping out of range of the eyes. He frowned. The closer he got, the more it seemed like he was looking at—
“Wallace? Is that you?” A thin voice echoed down the hallway. One of the pairs of glowing eyes separated from the group and moved closer to Butterbean and the other pets.
Wallace sat up straight on Walt’s back. “It’s me. Who’s there?”
A small shape came out of the shadows. Oscar frowned from overhead. Yes, it certainly seemed like he was looking at—
“DUNKIN?” Wallace gasped, letting go of Walt’s fur and sliding off her back. “Is that you? What are you DOING here? You’re INSIDE!”
Oscar nodded to himself. Yep, they were definitely rats.
Wallace rushed over to Dunkin the rat and squeezed him in a tight hug. Then he grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back toward Butterbean and Walt.“Guys! Guys! This is Dunkin, my friend from the loading dock. He’s one of the loading dock rats!” He hugged Dunkin again. “We thought you’d been eaten!” Wallace waved his arms at Oscar overhead. “You can land, Oscar. It’s my loading dock rat friends!”
Oscar turned back and landed carefully on Butterbean’s head. Even in the dark, the concrete floors of the basement looked a little too slippery for his taste. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself by making a crash landing.
“But what are you doing inside?” Wallace said, frowning. “You’re a loading dock rat. Why aren’t you on the loading dock?”
“Is that a nightgown?” Dunkin said, touching the sleeve of Wallace’s sailor shirt.
“What? No! This is a disguise.” Wallace smoothed the front of his shirt.
“We’re spies!” Polo said, sliding down from Walt’s back and hurrying over to where Wallace was standing. “We were going to all have disguises, but Oscar says that’ll have to wait until next time.” When she got about a foot away, she suddenly stopped short. Even if he was Wallace’s friend, Dunkin was still a wild rat. And she never knew what to expect from wild rats. “Why aren’t you on the loading dock?”
“Funny story there,” Dunkin said, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. He didn’t say it like it was really funny, though. If Polo didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he sounded scared. But loading dock rats didn’t get scared. Did they?
“So, you know I love the loading dock. Lived there my whole life. I’m in charge of all the community activities. You know my story, Wallace,” he said.
“Dunkin was born in a doughnut box,” Wallace said knowingly.
“Right,” Dunkin said. “So you know I wouldn’t just LEAVE. But lately, the loading dock has become a little… well, let’s say unsafe.”
“Okay, that’s understandable, I guess,” Wallace said. If the loading dock wasn’t safe, of course the rats would leave. “But why didn’t you just hide out in the storage room?” Wallace said. That’s what they used to do sometimes, when the weather was particularly bad. Make a party of it. The Strathmore Building had some pretty sloppy insulation around its exhaust venting.
“Well, we were. But that stopped feeling safe too,” Dunkin said, shifting his weight.
“It’s the slavering jaws, isn’t it,” Marco said knowingly.
“Um. You could say that,” Dunkin said. “We don’t feel welcome there anymore. None of us do.”
“Wait. There really are SLAVERING JAWS?” Butterbean’s nose trembled.
“Maybe? There are definitely jaws. Take a look for yourself.” He waved at the door.
Oscar cocked his head.“Oh, I don’t know if we—”
“Guys, let them through. They want to see for themselves,” Dunkin called to the glowing eyes around the door. “Oh, sorry, let me introduce you. Guys, you know Wallace. And these are his friends, um, Dog, Cat, Bird, and Other Rats. Wallace, this is the gang from the loading dock. Lego, Waffle,Folger, Snapple, Pocky, Dave, Cheerio, Mike, and Ike. And oh yeah, Ken. Wave hello, Ken!”
A rat under the exit sign waved a tentative hello.
“So, yeah, just go take a look,” Dunkin said. “It’s not a great situation. Any advice would be appreciated.”
Oscar glanced over at Walt, who shrugged.“Lead the way, Dunkin.”
Dunkin gave a small shrill laugh.“Oh no, I’m not going with you. We’ll all stay here. But you feel free. Knock yourself out.”
Oscar gritted his beak. Whatever was out there couldn’t be that bad. “Fine. Chad?”
Chad uncloaked and slithered his way over to the keypad.“Space, please, I need my space,” he snarled at the rats, who scattered as he got closer.
Chad hoisted himself up and typed on the keypad. The door buzzed quietly.
“Oh, going in the human way, huh? Well, that’s new,” Dunkin said, watching from a safe distance.
Chad hung on to the exit sign with one tentacle as he tugged the door open with another one.“Any cameras inside?”
“Um, yes, there’s a surveillance camera aimed at the door. I think it’s mostly for humans. I don’t think it’s aimed right to see you all.”
“Got it,” Chad said, dangling from the sign. He snapped one of his free tentacles at Butterbean. “I’m not holding this for my health, okay?”
“Oh! Sorry!” Butterbean raced forward and squeezed into the gap in the door. Oscar barely had time to tighten his grip before they were skidding to a stop in the storage room.
“Make it snappy,” Chad called after them. “I’ll be right here.”
Walt squeezed in behind Butterbean (with Marco and Polo back on board) and stood silently in the large storage room. Tall cagelike storage units lined the walls and went almost all the way from floor to ceiling. They were filled with shadowy boxes, bags, and random pieces of furniture.
“One of these belongs to Mrs. Food,” Butterbean said, her nose quivering in the air. “I’m not sure which one, though. I think she keeps her holiday decorations here. Want me to find it?”
“It’s not important,” Oscar said quietly. “I don’t think the storage units are the problem.”
The room had seemed silent when they first came in, but the longer they stood there, the more they noticed a small background sound. A scrabbling sound. It was coming from the large metal door at the end of the storage area. The sound of something trying to get in.
“That’s the door to the loading dock?” Oscar asked, examining it cautiously.
“That’s it,” Wallace said. He wished he hadn’t worn the sailor shirt. It’s not like it was really a disguise anyway. He would’ve been much better off as an anonymous naked rat.
“I can see why the rats didn’t feel safe,” Polo said in a small voice.
“That door looks pretty solid,” Oscar said, cocking his head. “Even if something wanted to get in, I don’t think it could get through that.”
“Something definitely wants to get in,” Walt said under her breath.
“Let’s go.” Oscar nodded toward the door. Taking a deep breath, they crept slowly toward the door at the end of the room. The scrabbling sound got louder. When they were standing directly opposite the door, Walt had finally had enough.
“Okay, where’s it coming from?” Walt’s ears swiveled around as she scanned the room. “It can’t get in though the metal door. So where is it?”
“There,” Wallace said, swallowing hard. He pointed up at an exhaust pipe that disappeared into a hole in the wall near the door. The insulation around the pipe looked like it was moving.
“That’s not rats, is it, Wallace?” Butterbean whispered.