by Roland Smith


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What waits Beneath?
Pat O'Toole has always idolized his older brother, Coop. He's even helped Coop with some of his crazier plans -- such as risking his life to help his big brother dig a tunnel underneath their neighborhood in the suburbs of Washington, DC. Coop is . . . different. He doesn't talk on the phone, doesn't use email, and doesn't have friends. He's never really cared for anything but the thrill of being underground and Pat. So it's no surprise to anyone -- even Pat -- that after a huge fight with their parents, Coop runs away. Exactly one year later, Pat receives a package containing a digital voice recorder and a cryptic message from his brother. He follows the clues to New York City, and soon discovers that Coop has joined the Community, a self-sufficient society living beneath the streets. Now it's up to Pat to find his brother -- and bring him home.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780545564878
Publisher: Scholastic, Inc.
Publication date: 03/29/2016
Edition description: Reprint
Pages: 272
Sales rank: 131,138
Product dimensions: 5.20(w) x 7.50(h) x 0.80(d)
Age Range: 10 - 14 Years

About the Author

Roland Smith first worked with animals at the Portland Zoo, and he has been involved in animal rescues and conservation work around the world for more than twenty years. He is the author of numerous books for young readers, including JACK'S RUN, ZACH'S LIE, CRYPTID HUNTERS, PEAK, TENTACLES, and the Storm Runners series. He is also the co-author of numerous picture books with his wife, Marie. Roland lives with Marie on a farm south of Portland, Oregon. You can find him online at

Read an Excerpt

Exactly one year to the day after my brother, Coop, ditched me, I got a package in the mail.  
It came to the school, not our house.  
The secretary handed me the package with a warning that I was never to use the school as my personal address.  
I was going to tell her that I hadn't when I saw my name:  Pat Meatloaf O'Toole scrawled in Coop's familiar handwriting.  
Meatloaf is not my real middle name.
I told her I would never do it again, grabbed the package, locked myself in a restroom stall, and tore the box open.  
Inside was a handheld digital voice recorder, a supply of memory sticks, and a note written on a greasy hamburger wrapper:  
"Lil Bro, Pat, just turn the recorder to Play, and I'll explain what you're supposed to do with this.  DO NOT share with parents.  This is just between you and me. Your big bro, Coop . . ."
I made sure the restroom was empty and switched on the recorder.

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