9e945bf3b1d705d5d70aa6e5ed9fa2ba

“GLOWING EYES,” BUTTERBEAN GASPED. IT was just like Biscuit had described.

“I can’t see any slavering jaws,” Polo whispered. “Are there slavering jaws?”

“I don’t know,” Marco whispered back. “I don’t even know what slavering is.”

“It’s a scary kind of slobbering,” Walt said. “Hold tight.” She waited as the rats flattened themselves against her, holding on to her fur. Then she arched her back and got into a crouch position. She wasn’t sure how she was going to go for the eyes with three rats on her back, but she was willing to give it a shot. There was no shortage of targets, that was for sure.

“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.”