Trigger tilted his big head at an angle, as if trying to understand Evan’s words. Then, wagging his huge tail excitedly, he started to run to Evan.

No! Evan thought. He’s going to jump on me! He’s going to jump! If he jumps, he’ll crush me!

An enormous glob of drool escaped Trigger’s open mouth and hit the carpet with a loud smack.

“Sit!” Evan cried, his voice choked with panic. “Sit, boy! Sit!”

Trigger hesitated, staring down at Evan. To Evan’s horror, the dog was growing even bigger. Trigger was now as tall as a horse!

Where did he find the container of Monster Blood? Evan wondered, his back pressed against the wall. Where?

The dog’s brown eyes gaped at Evan like shimmering, dark pools. Trigger uttered another deafening bark that shook the whole house.

“Yuck!” Evan cried, squeezing his nose with two fingers. The dog’s breath rushed at him like a strong wind. And it smelled as sour as a dead mouse.

“Back! Get back, Trigger!” Evan pleaded.

But Trigger had never learned that command, either.

Without warning, the giant dog leaped at Evan.

“Down! Down!” Evan shrieked.

Trigger’s mouth gaped open. The dog’s huge tongue licked the side of Evan’s face. The tongue felt scratchy and hot. Evan’s carrot-colored hair was matted down with sticky dog saliva.

“No—please!” Evan screamed. “I’m only twelve! I’m too young to die!”

He started to scream again. But Trigger’s big teeth clamped around his waist, cutting off his breath.

“Trigger—put me down! Put me down!” Evan choked out.

The dog’s wagging tail sent a lamp crashing to the floor.

The teeth held Evan gently but firmly. He felt himself being lifted off the floor.

“Put me down! Put me down!”

Why wouldn’t the stupid dog listen?

Evan thrashed his arms and legs frantically, trying to squirm free. But Trigger held on tightly.

The dog’s enormous paws pounded on the carpet. He carried Evan through the hall and across the kitchen. Then he lowered his head and butted the kitchen screen door open.

The door slammed hard behind them. Trigger began trotting over the grass.

“Bad dog! Bad dog!” Evan cried. His voice came out in a tiny squeak.

Had Trigger grown even bigger?

Evan was at least three feet off the ground now!

“Put me down! Down!” he cried.

Evan watched the green grass of the back yard bounce beneath him. Trigger was panting as he walked. The panting sounds made Evan’s whole body vibrate. He realized his jeans and T-shirt were soaked from dog saliva.

Trigger doesn’t mean to hurt me, Evan told himself. He’s just being playful. Thank goodness he’s such an old dog. His teeth aren’t very sharp.

The dog stopped at the edge of the flower garden in the back of the yard. He lowered Evan nearly to the ground, but didn’t let go.

His paws began to churn up the soft dirt.

“Let me down!” Evan shrieked. “Trigger—listen to me!”

Breathing hard, his hot, sour breath pouring over Evan, the big dog continued to dig.

A wave of horror swept over Evan as he realized what Trigger was doing. “No!” Evan shrieked. “Don’t bury me, Trigger!”

The dog dug faster, its front paws churning furiously. The soft dirt flew past Evan’s face.

“I’m not a bone!” Evan cried frantically. “Trigger—I’m not a bone! Don’t bury me, Trigger! Please—don’t bury me!”

“Don’t bury me. Please don’t bury me!” Evan murmured.

He heard laughter.

He raised his head and glanced around—and realized that he wasn’t home in his back yard. He was sitting in his assigned seat in the third row near the window in Mr. Murphy’s science class.

And Mr. Murphy was standing right at Evan’s side, his enormous, round body blocking the sunlight from the window. “Earth calling Evan! Earth calling Evan!” Mr. Murphy called, cupping his chubby pink hands over his mouth to make a megaphone.

The kids all laughed.

Evan could feel his face growing hot. “S-sorry,” he stammered.

“You seem to have been somewhere in Daydream Land,” Mr. Murphy said, his tiny black eyes twinkling merrily.

“Yes,” Evan replied solemnly. “I was dreaming about Monster Blood. I—I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Ever since his frightening adventure the past summer with the green, sticky stuff, Evan had been dreaming and daydreaming about it.

“Evan, please,” Mr. Murphy said softly. He shook his round, pink head and made a “tsk-tsk” sound.

“Monster Blood is real!” Evan blurted out angrily.

The kids laughed again.

Mr. Murphy’s expression grew stern. His tiny eyes locked onto Evan’s. “Evan, I am a science teacher. You don’t expect a science teacher to believe that you found a can of sticky green gunk in a toy store that makes things grow and grow.”