Cosmic Girl: Looking For Trouble: superhero series for young adults - Book Two

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Cosmic Girl: Looking For Trouble: superhero series for young adults - Book Two Page 11

by R S J Gregory


  “Cool it hotshot.” Mitchell says.

  “He’s got a point.” Stuart says. “Safety in numbers.”

  “Okay. Just don’t burn down the city, got it?” I say sternly to Ryan.

  “Sure. So, are we going, or what?” Ryan says.

  I retrieve my cell phone from my backpack and call my dad.

  “Hi, Dad. I might be a little late tonight.” I say hesitantly when he answers.

  “Should I be worried?” Dad asks cautiously.

  “It’s best if you don’t know.” I reply grimly.

  “For what it’s worth, please be careful.”

  “I’ll try. See you later.” I say and hang up.

  “Junk yard, now.” Mitchell says and then disappears in a blur.

  I take off running after him. The buildings and cars blur as I race through the streets. I hear the thrum of running behind me as I make a B-Line for Mitchell’s dad’s junk yard.

  I stop just inside the wrought iron gates. Mitchell is already disappearing behind a huge pile of scrap. The others materialize behind me as I follow Mitchell. As I stop and look around at the various husks of vehicles, I hear my phone ringing. I slip off my backpack and fish it out.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Cosmic Girl. Agent Forest calling.”

  “Hi. Thanks for getting back to me.”

  “You said you had a lead on Devlin, but you need my help.”

  “We know he’s in a Spanish speaking town, in a pink hacienda on top of a building. I think he might be in Mexico.” I say hurriedly while the others arrive and shrug their shoulders at me.

  “A pink hacienda on top of a building? Hold on a second, I’m going to make a call.”

  “Okay.” I say and wait impatiently as Agent Forest places me on hold. While I wait, I hear something squeaking and the sound of dirt being scraped. I turn and see Mitchell pushing a dusty old trailer-home. Its once shiny metal exterior is now a dull grey with patches of brown rust around the wheel arches.

  “Okay, I have something that might help.” Agent Forest says when she comes back after a few minutes. “But if you go there, you have to promise me something.” She says and she sounds quite edgy.

  “What?”

  “Don’t let anyone know you’re American, okay?”

  “What? That’s gonna be difficult, don’t you think? Our costumes are kind of a giveaway.”

  “Then no costumes.” She says sternly.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Hide your faces if you must, but dress plainly. And don’t speak to anyone, okay?”

  “Okay, fine.” I say and sigh.

  “The hacienda belongs to Miguel Garcia, a drugs baron. You were close, but it’s not in Mexico. It’s in Guatemala. You’ll find it just north of the port of San Jose.”

  “A drugs baron? Great.”

  “Exactly. So no one must know you’re American. This requires subtlety.”

  “Hey, you know me? I’m all about the subtle.”

  “Like Las Vegas?”

  “Hey! That wasn’t my fault.”

  “You weren’t exactly subtle, were you?”

  “Okay. Subtle. I’ll call you when we have the creep.”

  “Good luck.” Agent Forest says before hanging up.

  “Great.” I mumble and put my cell phone away.

  “What is it?” Mitchell asks as he rubs his dusty hands on his jeans.

  “We can’t wear any costumes.” I say as I meet their curious looks.

  “Aww, man. Really?” Paul complains.

  “Where we’re going, we can’t let on that we’re American.”

  “Well, that’s easy, ‘cause I’m not. So can I wear mine?” Paul says and grins.

  “No. We cover our faces, but that’s it. We gotta dress as normal as possible.” I reply.

  “We haven’t got costumes.” Ryan points out, and Georgia just nods her head and smiles at me.

  “You’d just burn yours anyway, so what’s the point?” Pamela says to Ryan. He nods and shrugs his shoulders.

  “Face masks, eye masks, bandanas with holes cut in them, use what you can.” I tell them.

  “If anyone has any spare, hand them over.” Mitchell asks.

  “You can have one of mine, mate.” Paul says and gives Ryan a black Zorro-type eye mask.

  “Thanks.” Ryan says and quickly puts it on.

  “Here,” I say and hand Georgia one of my pink glittery eye masks.

  She puts it on and giggles. Pamela accepts a white eye mask from Beth, then we all put on our eye masks. Mitchell leaves his costume, and instead puts on a spare pair of blue skiing goggles from Stuart. It will be nice to see Mitchell’s face for once. I hate the motorcycle helmet.

  “And we’re going in that?” Beth asks and points at the trailer home.

  “Don’t you think this is going to stand out a bit?” Ryan asks.

  “They’ll probably just think it’s another U.F.O.” Stuart says calmly and strolls towards it.

  “Don’t you mean, U.F.B.? Unidentified Flying Bad-Asses.” Paul says and chuckles as he saunters towards the trailer-home.

  I fly up to the top and grab hold, then I simply will myself upwards. There’s some slight rocking motion as I fly it upwards, but it’s definitely easier than the boat.

  I look for the sun, then keep it on my right as I rise up. Once we’re through the second cloud layer, I level off and start to accelerate.

  I dare not fly more than a hundred miles an hour with the trailer. It’s old and rickety. I don’t trust it. I have an idea, though.

  Beth? I think loudly.

  ‘Yes?’ I hear Beth’s husky voice inside my head.

  Ask Paul to use his powers to hold the trailer together. I want to go faster. I ask Beth inside my head.

  ‘Will do.’

  I wait a few minutes, then begin to accelerate. The clouds are racing by, and the wind becomes a roar in my ears. I quickly look down at my cargo. Still looks okay. I push myself to go faster. I hear the first sonic boom.

  The trailer’s still looking good, so I really push myself. I hear the second sonic boom a few seconds later, followed by a third a few seconds after that.

  The wind is now a high-pitched scream that any leading lady would be proud of.

  Directions, please? I think aloud.

  ‘We’re over Nashville right now. No wait, we’re over Huntsville. No, Montgomery. Damn, girl.’

  Let me know when we’re over the Gulf of Mexico.

  ‘Just passed Mobile, Alabama. Okay, we’re over the Gulf now. You’d better slow down before we end up in China.’

  I chuckle as I slow down and begin my descent. I pass through some clouds and see the glimmering dark water far beneath us. I look to the horizon and see some land up ahead. There’s a large island on my left up ahead and to the right, a huge mass of land as far as the eye can see.

  ‘Keep going straight.’

  I maintain my height, twenty thousand feet at a guess, and aim for the land mass in front of us.

  ‘Britney. We’re no longer in American air space.’

  Uh, oh. I speed up again, and soon we are flying high above the land mass. I continue on until I see the ocean again and then I stop and turn around.

  Okay, Beth. Where to?

  ‘Hang on. Damn it, I’ve got no signal here. I think it’s to our left. Follow the shoreline.’

  Okay.

  I look down at the ocean far below us. There are lots of boats. I follow the shoreline, keeping it on my right as I carry the trailer-home through the clear sky.

  I begin to descend slowly. I can start to see the boats more clearly now. Some are fishing boats. A few of them are casting their nets as I fly overhead, men with their backs bent to their task. Some of the boats look sleek, and the sun glints off something metallic.

  As I get lower, I realize that some of the boats are carrying armed men in green military looking uniforms. The sun is glinting off of their weapons.

  A few of the boa
ts have very large machine guns fitted to the back of them.

  My body tenses, and I feel butterflies in my tummy as I look at those huge guns. I level off and speed up again.

  I want to put as much distance between us as possible. It then dawns on me. We are flying into danger. We have to be careful. I’ve heard stories about Guatemala. They can be very trigger happy here, and we’re heading to a drugs baron’s house.

  Oh, joy.

  My head explodes in pain and I hear the familiar ringing in my ears for a split second.

  Something pings off of the trailer below me.

  “Damn it!” I blurt out and begin to dive towards the water.

  Hang on in there. We’re under fire. I think aloud as I hurtle towards the choppy waves.

  ‘Port of San Jose is coming up. Get us over land. Those shots came from the water.’ Beth’s panicked voice tells me inside my head.

  I see a harbor up ahead, so I accelerate and bank to my right. My breathing is coming in gasps as I fly over the cluttered streets and small dwellings. I can hear excited shouts below us, then my warning is set off again.

  Oh, man.

  I hear the crack of gunfire below and I swerve to my left and go faster.

  ‘We got to ditch this trailer-home. It’s attracting too much attention.’ Beth’s husky voice says inside my head.

  You think? I’m not used to this kind of reception.

  I see a tall hotel up ahead to my left. I fly up and set the trailer-home on the roof. The door bursts open and everyone pours out.

  “Okay, now what? We’re sitting ducks up here.” Ryan says, his face flushed with anger.

  “Beth, can you search any minds near us. See if they know where this hacienda is?” I ask as I drop to the roof and check on Georgia. “You okay?” I ask her.

  She nods her head, but her face looks pale. “We’ll be okay.” I tell her and manage a weak smile.

  “They’re not thinking in English.” Beth says after a few minutes.

  “Try an image. Show them the hacienda. See if that helps.” Stuart says. Beth nods and they crawl to the edge of the roof together and look over the edge.

  Behind me I hear a door handle twist. Like a bolt of lightning, I turn and race to the roof door and grab the handle.

  Beth, hurry! I think loudly as the person on the other side of the door begins to hit the door with something.

  “Got it.” Beth calls from the edge of the hotel roof. The masonry near her explodes a second later, and I hear gunshots.

  “Friendly bunch.” Paul spits as he raises his hands. The trailer-home rises easily off the roof.

  “Get away from the door.” Paul tells me. I side-step as Paul forces the trailer-home up against the roof door.

  “Thanks.” I say as I head over to the others. “Where is it Beth?”

  She turns and points up to one of the hills. “Right there.”

  I look to where she’s pointing. Wow, it really is built on top of another building.

  Even from here, I can see armed men patrolling the grounds. More gunfire interrupts my thoughts, this time from the roof door. I hear the clang and ping as they hit the trailer-home that’s blocking the door.

  “How do we get there without getting shot?” Georgia asks, her voice trembling.

  Ryan grins and looks at Pamela, who’s standing with her arms folded and looking pretty pissed. “You’re up.” Ryan says teasingly to Pamela.

  “I’m not sure if I can.” Pamela says and frowns, increasing her pissed off look.

  “Yes, you can. It’s just like how we practiced.” Stuart says and holds out his hand to Pamela. “Take me first.”

  Pamela sighs and turns around to face the hilltop villa.

  “Hold on tight, and don’t let go.” Pamela tells Stuart. He steps up behind her and holds on to her arms.

  “We all go on three.” I say and motion for Georgia to come to me. I pick her up and hold her steady in my arms.

  “I think I can make that.” Mitchell says and takes several steps back away from the roof’s edge.

  I turn and see Paul raise himself off the roof.

  “I can carry you as well. Come on.” I say to Ryan.

  He just grins and bursts into flames. “I’ve got this.” He says confidently. “On three, right?”

  I nod. More and more bullets are ripping into the trailer-home behind us, making it look like Swiss cheese.

  “One…..two…..three!” I say and watch Pamela and Stuart vanish in a burst of dark light.

  I launch myself upwards and rocket towards the pink hacienda that sits proudly on top of a plain concrete building.

  A flame-covered Ryan flies past me to my right, blazing a fire trail behind him. Paul flies next to me on my left with his hands stretched out either side of him. I hear a gust of wind, and Mitchell shoots over us in a blue and black blur.

  Boy, can he jump!

  I look towards our destination and see that Stuart and Pamela are already on the rooftop.

  “That was fun.” Pamela says as I land near her and set Georgia down.

  “I think the fun is just beginning.” Ryan says as he lands, flaming red and orange, on to the roof before extinguishing his flames.

  His normal clothes are hanging from him in charred tatters.

  “I think you might be right, Blaze.” Paul says as he lands. I hear the sound of heavy boots running in our direction from below.

  “Blaze?” Ryan asks.

  “That’s your new codename, kid.” Mitchell says as he walks over to the roof’s edge.

  “Don’t call me kid.” Ryan replies heatedly.

  “Chillax.” Paul says and pats Ryan on the shoulder. “Ouch. Damn, you’re hot.” Paul says and blows on his hand.

  “I know.” Ryan says and grins at Georgia.

  “Is he here?” I say and march towards the hacienda.

  “He better be.” Paul says and follows me.

  “What’s that noise?” Beth asks.

  I notice a bloody footprint.

  Fifteen

  I hear a faint buzzing sound coming from the hacienda, and approach the first window, cautiously. I lean forward and peer inside. The room looks empty at first glance, then I see someone slumped over on the coach.

  Uh, oh.

  I wave the others over and walk towards the door that Devlin used in Georgia’s vision. Only now, bloody footprints lead from the coach to the door, where I’m standing in disgust. That’s when the smell hits me.

  “Wow. It’s like a turd puked in here.” Paul complains behind me.

  “Open the windows.” I agree as I begin to cough.

  Paul raises his hands and several tall windows burst open, flooding the room with a slight breeze.

  My footsteps echo inside the grand vacant room as I enter. I cover my nose with my hand and breathe through my mouth. The tiled floor is just as I remember, only now it’s covered in sticky blood.

  Small pools of the rancid dark fluid lie in various places in the cavernous living room. A large bookshelf rests against the wall near a doorway. Some of the books lie discarded on the floor beneath.

  The map is still on the marble coffee table, but all around it are bodies.

  One of them is dressed in green military fatigues. His head is crushed, spilling his brains all over the very nice banana-yellow couch.

  I stare at the grizzly scene for a moment.

  Twelve bodies, all with bloody stumps for necks.

  Devlin’s all too familiar calling card.

  The only sound is the buzzing of flies and my heart pounding in my ears, as I stand amidst the slaughter.

  “Holy shit!” Paul blurts out as he steps past me.

  “No! What’s he doing?” I hear Georgia call out from outside.

  I race outside, and find Georgia pointing to the roof’s edge.

  “He jumped over.” Georgia says in shock.

  “Who did?” I ask and see Pamela and Beth head over.

  “The big guy. Mitchell, is i
t?” Georgia says and looks at us.

  I shrug and relax. “Don’t worry. He actually is bulletproof.” I say, then place my hand on Georgia’s shoulder as she walks towards the hacienda. “You’d better not go in there.” I tell her.

  “He’s 100% bulletproof?” Stuart asks.

  I nod, and he smiles as he walks by me. I hear some gunshots down below, and some shouting. It quickly falls silent after I hear a few thuds.

  “It’s not pretty.” I warn them. Georgia groans and steps backwards. “Gross.” She says and turns pale.

  Damn it. I forgot she can see what I’ve seen by me touching her. “Sorry.” I say gently.

  “Why does he do this?” Georgia asks and turns her back to me.

  “I’d say he has issues.” Beth says as she puts her arm around Georgia. Ryan walks past and then I hear him cough.

  “That is sick. And we’re trying to find this….murderer?” Ryan says as I turn and walk back to the hacienda.

  “This has to stop.” I mutter as I walk back inside.

  I hear a heavy impact outside, then Mitchell walks by me, then stops.

 

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