Here Comes Mr. Trouble

by Battles, Brett

  Bwamp. Bwamp-bwamp. The alarm sounded on another monitor.

  Then another. Bwamp. Bwamp-bwamp.

  Then another. And another.

  Soon alarms rang out from all the monitors.

  Uncle Colin turned to face the others. “They’re here.”

  26

  “Fiona, dart guns,” Mr. Trouble said. “Uncle Colin, goggles.”

  Fiona sprinted to a padlocked metal cabinet near the door and started inputting the combination.

  Uncle Colin, though, seemed unsure what to do. “Night vision or Maker vision?”

  “It would sure be nice if they were both,” Mr. Trouble said.

  “Right. Well, uh, we’ll get on that when we get back home to the lab.”

  “Night vision, then, and hurry.”

  Now with a sense of purpose, Uncle Colin moved quickly to one of the cabinets under the workbench and pulled it open.

  “Uncle Carl, Keira, communication gear for everyone,” Mr. Trouble ordered.

  They nodded and headed for a different cabinet.

  “Mom, you’re in the cockpit,” Mr. Trouble said. “Even if you don’t hear my signal, if you get the slightest sense that someone’s trying to get in, take off.”

  Mother Trouble looked at Eric and Maggie. “Isn’t he precious when he takes charge?”

  “Mom, now.”

  “On my way, dear.”

  She headed to the dry-erase wall and pushed in on one spot. A whole panel popped out, revealing a ladder that went up a few feet to a door that Eric guessed opened into the long hallway where the bedrooms were.

  “Catch,” Keira said.

  She tossed something to her brother and then to Eric and Maggie. They looked like wireless headsets for cell phones, complete with an elaborate loop that would hold them tight to the ear.

  Eric fumbled with his for a moment before getting it in place.

  “There’s a button on the back,” Mr. Trouble said. “Push that and you should be up and running.”

  Eric pushed the button. Suddenly every noise in the room screamed into his ear. He ripped the whole thing off and rubbed the side of his head.

  “There’s a volume control on top,” Mr. Trouble explained. “They’re supposed to be turned down after every use, but sometimes,” he shot Uncle Carl a look, “they aren’t.”

  Eric adjusted the volume and warily put the headset back on. As promised, it was much better this time.

  “You and Maggie will stick with me,” Mr. Trouble told him.

  “What are we going to do?” Eric asked.

  “The others are going to draw the attention of our new guests, while the three of us head for the car and get out of here. Maggie, are you having trouble with that?”

  Maggie was still holding her earpiece in her hand. “No.” She hooked the device over her ear. “There. Better?”

  Great, Eric thought. Now was not the time for Maggie to be pumping out the attitude.

  Fiona rushed over carrying several dart guns. She gave one to her brother then nodded toward Eric and Maggie. “What about them?”

  Mr. Trouble thought for a moment then shook his head. “Let’s not.”

  “Yeah,” Fiona said. “They might just shoot themselves.”

  “Or one of us,” Keira threw in.

  Uncle Colin began handing out goggles. “Don’t put them over your eyes until you’re outside,” he told Eric and Maggie.

  Mr. Trouble glanced at the monitors. “The way to the car’s still clear so we should get a move on it now. Fiona, Keira, you know your job?”

  “Yep,” Keira said, checking her dart gun.

  Fiona nodded, looking ready for action.

  “Uncle Colin, Uncle Carl, you’re on the monitors,” Mr. Trouble said. “Keep us informed of anything going on.”

  Both men nodded.

  “Okay, everyone. One last thing. I think we should assume that there aren’t just surrogates out there.” There was a sudden stillness in the room. “The Makers must be worried that Eric is slipping through their grasp, so I have a feeling they’re trying a big push. If you see a Maker, run. Don’t try to fight them, or capture them, or even talk to them. Just deal with the surrogates. Am I clear?”

  Keira nodded. “They’re the last things I want to see.”

  “Fiona?” Mr. Trouble asked. “You heard me, right? No heroics.”

  “I heard you,” she said.

  “That’s not exactly a confirmation of my order.”

  “Was it an order?”

  “Yes. It was.”

  She gritted her teeth then gave him a single terse nod. “Fine.”

  That seemed to be good enough for Mr. Trouble. He turned to Eric and Maggie. “You guys ready?”

  “How will we even know if a real Maker’s around?” Eric asked. “We’re not going to be wearing the right goggles.”

  “True. We wouldn’t see them the way my uncles did a few minutes ago, but what we might see are the bodies they possess.” He took a breath and looked at Eric, his face more serious than ever. “See, that’s what they want you for. They need your body. The only way they can increase their numbers is to possess kids like you.”

  “You mean because of the marker in my skin,” Eric said.

  Mr. Trouble nodded. “To possess you, they need you at your lowest point. So they beat you down, make you think you’re going crazy, that everything’s hopeless, then they take you.”

  Eric stared at him. “What…what would happen to me if they did?”

  “I can’t tell you for sure, but my guess is that the you you know, the things that make you who you are…they’d all be gone. Only your body would be left.”

  Eric tried not to seem too freaked out. “So if we see them…they’ll appear as kids like me?”

  “No, they grow up with the Makers inside. But you can still tell. See, the Makers do something to the bodies. They make them perfect—too perfect. Their skin, their faces, their hair—everything. They also do something that makes the bodies last a lot longer than they should.”

  That was far from the skinny, troll-like creatures Eric had dreamt about. “How much longer?”

  Mr. Trouble paused. “We think centuries.”

  “Centuries? Are you kidding?”

  Mr. Trouble shook his head.

  “Well, do you think we’re going to actually see any?”

  “My plan is that we don’t.” He smiled and looked over at his sisters. “Fiona, Keira, you’re up.”

  Without another word, the girls headed out the back door.

  As soon as they were gone, Mr. Trouble led Eric and Maggie to the exit.

  “What do you see?” he asked into his radio.

  “The area right outside and all the way to the car appears clear,” Fiona answered.

  “Excellent.” He looked at Eric and Maggie. “I’ll go first.”

  He opened the door and climbed down the steps. When he reached the bottom he did a quick look around, then motioned for Eric and Maggie to come down.

  “After you,” Eric said.

  “Why? Are you scared?” Maggie asked.

  “No, of course not.”

  The left side of her mouth moved up in the hint of a weird smile before she started down the steps.

  In the field beyond the plane, Eric could see one of the Trouble sisters nearing some trees, and the other one moving off to the left. It was too dark, though, to tell which was which.

  “Eric, you want to join us?” Mr. Trouble called out.

  Eric glanced down. Maggie and Mr. Trouble were both at the bottom looking up at him. He hurried down the steps.

  “Uncle Carl? Uncle Colin? How are we looking?” Mr. Trouble asked.

  “We can’t find any of them,” Uncle Colin responded. “It’s like they all disappeared.”

  “They couldn’t have all disappeared,” Fiona whispered over the radio.

  “Fiona, do you see any of them where you are?” Mr. Trouble asked.

  “No,” she said. “But t
hey’ve got to be out here somewhere, don’t—”

  Keira cut her sister off. “I see one.”

  “Where are you?” Mr. Trouble asked.

  “In the woods to the right of the plane,” she replied. “He just came around the abandoned house and slipped into the trees.”

  “Maker or surrogate?” Mr. Trouble asked.

  “Surrogate, definitely. Too ugly to be a Maker.”

  “I see one, too,” Fiona said. “Wait. No, two more.”

  “Three just came around the house,” Keira reported. “They’re heading toward the barn.”

  Mr. Trouble turned to Eric and Maggie. “We need to get to the car now.”

  As they started to move, Fiona let out a short, surprised scream. It was quickly followed by the pffffft of a dart gun.

  “Fiona, are you all right?” Mr. Trouble asked.

  There was a moan over the radio.

  “Fiona?”

  “I’m…I’m okay,” she said. “Sorry. He knocked me over.”

  “Did you get him?”

  “I hit him, but he didn’t go down.”

  Eric could see Mr. Trouble frown. “You must have missed him, then.”

  “No. I could see it hanging from him, but he kept going.”

  Pffffft.

  “Who shot that?” Mr. Trouble asked.

  Pffffft.

  “One just jumped out at me,” Keira said. “The first dart hit him in the chest but didn’t do anything. Got him with another in the leg. That knocked him out. Hold on.”

  “What are you doing?” Mr. Trouble asked.

  “I said hold on!”

  “Fiona, what about the one you saw? Where is he now?”

  “He was headed down the line of trees on the left side of the plane. I…I don’t see him now.”

  Mr. Trouble pushed Eric on the back and grabbed Maggie’s arm. “Come on.”

  He started running toward the sedan.

  “I have them on the monitors now!” Uncle Colin announced. “I count…” He went silent for a second then muttered, “Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. Eighteen.”

  Mr. Trouble nearly stumbled. “Eighteen?”

  “No. No, not eighteen. Nineteen.”

  “Four just sprinted out of the woods in front of me,” Fiona said. “They’re headed toward the barn!”

  That was where the sedan was. By Eric’s count, there were at least seven surrogates headed their way.

  “Well, how about that?” Keira said.

  “A little busy for riddles right now,” Mr. Trouble told her.

  “What? Oh, sorry,” she said. “The surrogates are wearing padding under their clothes.”

  “What kind of padding?”

  “This guy’s got chest protectors on both the front and back. You know? The kind catchers in baseball wear? My first dart hit it but didn’t go all the way through.”

  Eric, Maggie, and Mr. Trouble stopped as they reached the car.

  “Fiona, did you get that?” Mr. Trouble asked.

  “Yeah,” Fiona answered. “Concentrate on arms and legs, right?”

  “Right.” Mr. Trouble pulled open the rear door of the sedan and motioned for Eric and Maggie to get in.

  As they climbed inside, he opened the driver’s door. But before he could enter, two surrogates came around the end of the barn.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” one of them said.

  Mr. Trouble raised his dart gun and fired off a shot. The surrogate in the lead paused mid-step then fell to the ground. Mr. Trouble fired again, but the other surrogate moved quickly to his left and the dart sailed harmlessly through the air.

  Mr. Trouble stepped around the open door to get a better angle, but the surrogate retreated to the end of the building and disappeared around the side.

  “Give us the boy,” the surrogate called out from his hiding place.

  Mr. Trouble lowered his gun and took several steps toward the end of the barn. “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

  “That’s too bad,” the surrogate said. “It would be so much easier for you if you did.”

  Mr. Trouble crept over to the barn and snuck along the wall until he reached the corner. He brought up his gun, flashed a quick smile back at Eric and Maggie, then stepped out so he could see around the corner.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  Pffffft.

  Pffffft. Pffffft. Pffffft.

  Pffffft.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Mr. Trouble yelled as he ran behind the barn out of sight.

  Quiet descended over the car.

  After nearly a minute, Eric held his hand to his radio and said, “Mr. Trouble, are you there?”

  There was no response.

  He glanced at Maggie then said, “Fiona? Keira?” Nothing. “Uncle Colin? Uncle Carl? Anyone?”

  But the only thing that answered him was dead air.

  He turned to Maggie again. “Do you believe me now that something strange is going on? That it’s not just bad luck I’ve been having?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I believe you.”

  “Well…well, good,” he said, surprised by her response.

  “In fact, I think maybe we should find someplace to hide,” she suggested.

  “But Mr. Trouble wanted us to wait here.”

  “This is the first place they’ll look for us.”

  She had a point.

  “We could go back to the plane,” he said.

  “No. They’d expect that, too.”

  “Then where?”

  “In the barn. I’m sure there are plenty of places to hide there.”

  He looked out the window at the barn. While it didn’t look as rundown as the house, it didn’t appear to be particularly sturdy, either.

  “But the surrogates,” he said.

  “See there?” She pointed out the window. “That board is loose. We can sneak through there and they’ll never see us.”

  “I…I don’t know. Maybe they’re inside, too.”

  “They’ll be coming for us here any second. Now come on.” She opened the door and got out. “Eric, trust me.”

  It was the same thing he’d been asking her to do since the Trouble family had arrived. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  27

  The inside of the barn was almost pitch-black.

  Eric took two awkward steps forward and then remembered the goggles on his head. He pulled them down over his eyes. Suddenly the interior appeared out of the darkness, all tinted night-vision green.

  Along each side of the building were broken-down stalls where animals had once lived. The area in the center was empty and had probably been where the old owners had stored equipment. In the rafters, sticking out about a third of the way across the length of the barn, was a loft. There were still some boxes or something up there. They were rectangular in shape but the shadows were too deep to make out exactly what they were, even with the goggles.

  “This way,” Maggie whispered.

  Eric followed her down the middle of the building.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “I told you,” she said. “Finding a good place to hide. There’s something that looks like it should work over there.” She pointed toward the end of the stalls on the right.

  Eric couldn’t make out what she had seen, but if it were someplace the Makers and their surrogates wouldn’t find them, then great.

  As they neared it, he could see it was a hole in the floor surrounded on three sides by a waist-high metal railing to keep people from falling in. On the open fourth side was a set of steps leading down.

  A barn with a basement.

  Great.

  “Come on,” she said as she started down.

  “Maybe we could just hide in one of these stalls up here,” he suggested.

  She looked back at him. “I thought you said you weren’t scared.”