Against All Odds by Natale Ghent Page B

letters.
    “No girls allowed,” Samantha read.
    “Oh.” Boney scratched his head and gave a nervous little laugh. “I guess Itchy must have put that there.”
    Squeak stiffened. “We never agreed on this new initiative.”
    “I think this is the least of our worries,” Boney said.
    Squeak became animated. “But the Order of Odd Fellows is a democracy. We always vote on such motions. We can’t have members just doing whatever they want.”
    “What’s the Order of Odd Fellows?” Samantha asked. Boney’s face flushed. “Oh, it’s … um … a group that we belong to.”
    “It’s our club,” Squeak said. “We established it yearsago. I even wrote a chant.” He raised his fist in the air. “We are weird, we are here, get used to it!”
    Boney pushed Squeak’s arm down. “Uhhh … yeah …”
    Samantha studied Boney with amusement. “I like it.”
    Boney waved at the sign as a diversionary tactic. “How do we even know the real Itchy did this? There are millions of Itchys in that warehouse out there. Who knows what they’re up to?”
    Samantha gave him a wry smile. “I don’t think they’re concerned about girls in your clubhouse.”
    Boney clenched his jaw. “Well, why don’t you tell us what’s going on? You seem to know a lot.”
    “Gladly. But I’d rather not loiter out in the open.” Samantha looked over her shoulder.
    Boney took the hint. He gestured at the ladder. Samantha put her hands on the rungs and was about to climb when Squeak stopped her.
    “You’d better let me go first. We have no idea who could be up there.”
    Boney gave him a look. “Aren’t you the gentleman.”
    Squeak brushed him off and began climbing the ladder. When he reached the top he stuck his head through the opening and looked around. “It’s safe. Nobody but Henry up here.”
    “Thanks, Tarzan,” Boney called back. He allowed Samantha to climb next, then followed several rungs behind.
    Squeak was already sitting at the table when Boney pulled himself into the clubhouse. Samantha took the seat next to Squeak.
    “Just for the record, what
were
you doing up here with Itchy earlier?” Boney asked.
    “It wasn’t Itchy,” Samantha said. “It was one of them.”
    Squeak’s eyes widened. “So our security has been breached.”
    “Not entirely.” Samantha looked at Henry, who cocked his head in her direction. “It seems your leghorn can tell the difference.”
    Squeak’s face lit up. “Really?”
    Samantha nodded. “I was hoping to speak to you about the … situation … when one of the clones followed me here. Henry recognized it wasn’t Itchy right away and chased it down the ladder.”
    Squeak smiled his gap-toothed smile. “Good boy!” he praised the rooster.
    Henry raised his head and fluffed his feathers proudly.
    Boney sat at the table. “Did you notice how quick those clones are? It’s like they’re supercharged or something.”
    “Did you notice their eyes?” Squeak said. “They’re vacant, like a doll’s eyes. They look possessed.”
    Samantha grew quiet, the sunlight dappling across her face through the clubhouse window. “I’ve never had a close encounter with a clone before,” she confessed. “I was actually really scared when they swarmed me.”
    “So were we,” Squeak admitted. “We thought you were a goner.”
    Boney nodded soberly. He pulled thoughtfully on his long chin. “Not to push the issue or anything … but how did you know about the situation?”
    Samantha started to speak, and then raised her finger to her lips. “What’s that noise?”
    There was a rustling sound at the base of the ladder. Boney, Squeak, and Samantha froze in their seats, their startled faces turned toward Escape Hatch #1. They could hear the distinct sound of something climbing the rungs toward the clubhouse. And then a tangled mop of red hair popped through the hole. The creature rose to full height, teeth bared like a rabid dog.

C HAPTER T WELVE
S PACE I N V ADERS
    B oney, Squeak,