‘That’s quite alright,’ a woman’s voice said. ‘In fact, I owe you a thank you.’
I looked up at the woman raising a champagne glass at me despite the chaos. Wait. That was no woman. That was my neighbour … Library Girl?
A crowd of people rushed past me. I looked back to where the woman had been, but she was gone. It didn’t matter. ‘Bremy!’ I heard someone shout. I didn’t turn. ‘Bremy!’ I stopped when a hand landed on my shoulder, a hand with black fingernails. ‘Are you okay?’
I figured I must look pretty bad if Queenie was asking. But I still couldn’t find enough in me to answer.
‘Where are you going?’
I mumbled something.
‘What?’
‘What time is it?’ I asked.
Kevin answered this time. ‘Quarter to midnight.’
I nodded and started walking again. ‘Bremy, wait!’
‘Can’t,’ I mumbled again. ‘I’ve got someplace to be.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘Come back!’
I walked through the shattered front doors into the first breath of cool night air. ‘Besides,’ I whispered to no one in particular, ‘I think I’m done here.’
Chapter 34
‘Little Bremy, that was very good fight.’
Mr Pushkin and I sat across from one another on benches in a small concrete change room at the arena slash theatre. I sighed. ‘Yeah, well, I had kind of a rough night.’ I dropped my head, stretching out the muscles in my neck. ‘I needed to work a few things out.’
‘Yes, you work many things out with fists! And feet! And forehead butt.’ I glanced up to see him smile with the memory. ‘Yes, that was very good.’
I rubbed a hand over my face, but that only served to hurt both my hand and my face. Everything that happened since the museum was a bit of a blur, but now that the adrenaline was draining, I was feeling a little more aware of my circumstances … and they sucked.
‘You don’t seem happy, Little Bremy.’
I mustered up some effort and replied, ‘I … I don’t know what I am.’ Wow. Truer words had never been spoken, by me at least. I certainly wasn’t a crime fighter. Definitely not a superhero. I wasn’t even that much help as a regular citizen. Jenny had shown me what it was to be those things. And I was happy for her. At least, part of me was happy for her. Well, at least, I thought part of me was happy for her. I was confused. And tired. And very, very sad. I cleared my throat. ‘So what’s the deal with you and Lana? I saw you both giving each other some pretty moony looks.’ In between my flying fists of fury.
It was Mr Pushkin’s turn to sigh. Of course, the force of his sigh caused a minor windstorm in the room. Alright, maybe not, but I was pretty sure I saw the corner of a towel flutter. ‘She does not like my career choice.’
I nodded. ‘Been there.’
We sat in silence a moment longer, then I asked, ‘So have you ever thought about going straight?’
He chuckled and shook his head. ‘Oh Bremy, I am six foot six foreigner in strange land. English is … difficult,’ he said, looking to the ceiling. ‘Plus I have glass eyeball and six fingers on my right hand.’
I waited to see where he was going with this.
‘You think I should be nurse? Office worker? Perhaps child care professional?’ I nodded, staring down at my feet. Yeah, I got that. Me and Mr Pushkin, well, we were a lot alike. Neither one of us could escape ourselves. The only difference was that he had the good sense not to try.
‘What about you, Little Bremy? You do good job tonight. You want to come back?’ he asked, voice brightening. ‘You could make lots of money as Little Chicken the Terrible … or Horrible Little Chicken … or, well, you could make up name. I could be manager?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said, with another long, low sigh. ‘I think I might be moving to Nepal.’ I turned my hand over so I could take a look at the wound on my knuckles. ‘Besides, I have a cut on my hand in the shape of Lee Lee’s tooth, and I’m feeling kind of weird about it.’
He nodded. ‘This makes me sad.’ He paused a moment then pointed at me. ‘But you give notice if you move. Don’t forget. Or I have to—’ He suddenly cut off himself off and dropped his hand to his lap. ‘Ah, never mind.’
I half-smiled and nodded in return. Just then one of Mr Pushkin’s men came in holding his phone saying something quickly in a language I didn’t understand. He also looked at me pointedly several times during the conversation. Mr Pushkin took the phone and waved the man away.
‘What was that?’
‘Nothing,’ he replied, not able to meet my eyes.
‘Oh no. It was something. Something about me.’
‘Ah, Little Bremy.’
‘Phone,’ I demanded reaching my hand out.
‘It’s nothing. It’s—’
‘Now!’
Mr Pushkin jumped. ‘Alright, don’t get pansies in a bunch.’
‘It’s not pansies—never mind, phone.’
Mr Pushkin passed me the phone. On the screen was the homepage for Cassie Mack’s tabloid … and a picture … a picture of me—Sidekick me—reaching for Bart in full Crime Mime gear, the headline, What Ever Happened to Sweet Bremy St. James? Then underneath, Superhero or Superjoke?
Cassie Mack. Library Girl. Of course. It had all been a set-up. Our chance meeting. My saving her in the alley. All a set-up.
‘So you’ve been keeping tabs,’ I said, passing back the phone. ‘How long have you known who I was?’
‘Little while.’
I exhaled roughly. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘I respect the privacy,’ he said before adding, ‘Your father. He is bad man. I thought maybe this is girl who needs the help.’
And there went my eyes again. I hated that prickly feeling. ‘Thanks,’ I said, trying to keep the quaver from my voice.
Mr Pushkin stood. ‘Come.’
I rolled my eyes up to his.
‘Now, you look like girl who needs the ice-cream.’
I screwed my face up into a Really? expression.
‘You had good fight. You deserve treat.’
I heaved myself up and walked towards the door. ‘Where can we even get ice-cream this time of night?’
‘Ah, Little Bremy, when you are man like Mr Pushkin, everybody gives you ice-cream.’
***
Despite the gratuitous amounts of coconut ice-cream I had eaten the night before at the Thai restaurant Mr Pushkin had taken me to, I woke up miserable—in no small part because I felt broken all over. Sure, I had won the fight last night, but that was because I willing to sacrifice my body to do it. But, of course, it wasn’t the physical pain that was bothering me. It was the big ball of doughy rotten goo in my head that was the memory of the museum. I was trying to ignore it, but it seemed to be growing in size. Soon it would crush the little me up in there, whistling with its hands in its pockets, pretending there wasn’t a big goo memory threatening to flatten everything.
I threw my thin quilt over my face, but then threw it back when I realised how badly it needed to be washed, or maybe I needed to brush my teeth. It was hard to tell.
I let out a huff of frustration.
Fine, I would think about it. But I really hated to think about stuff.
Okay, here goes.
Bart and I humiliated ourselves in front of all the people I used to know. Ow, okay, that hurt, but it was survivable.
The only thing I had succeeded at last night was convincing Pierce that I was a loser … a reckless, dangerous loser, who nearly got him killed. But maybe that doesn’t matter so much anyway because he has been lying to me … about my sister.
Oh yeah, that one stung. My chest clenched a little bit tighter and my eyes were slightly more prickly. But it was out there now. Lance that boil.
Suddenly, the pigeons outside my window let out a startled group burble.
I sat up sharply, glaring at my window wi
th the plastic blind rolled down, and shouted, ‘I told you, Rosita. We are not doing the Mexican maid’s daughter falling for the millionaire’s son storyline! It’s been done!’ I angrily flopped back in my bed.
I had been duped by a paparazzi, and now the world believed I was crazy.
I exhaled sharply. Okay, not too bad. Time for the last one.
My twin sister, the person I loved more than anyone, had not only ditched me, but in the matter of a few short weeks had become everything I had always wanted to be and more. And, AND, if I’m completely honest, I may even be jealous of the person I love more than anything, which means I am a much worse person than I had ever thought possible!
I clutched my chest. Oh God, that didn’t feel good. In fact, getting it all out there felt really bad. Like really, really bad. Ugly amounts of tears swam around in my eyes.
The pigeons erupted with another round of burbles.
I shot up. ‘Guys! Seriously! I have real life issues that I need to— Wah!’
A shadow moved in front of my window. A human shadow!
I clutched my quilt to my chest. Who the hell was outside of my window? I mean, there was a fire escape out there, but it wasn’t stable enough for, you know, actual use.
My muscles twitched. I should probably just get up and run away. I mean, it was totally within the realm of possibility that my father had sent building scaling goons after me, but then again … what if somebody needed my help? Maybe it was a neighbour trying to end it all, or somebody who’d became disoriented while ledge walking? That probably wasn’t likely, but could I take that chance?
I edged out of bed and crept the two steps over to my window. Maybe if I just peeked under the blind, I could see if it was friend or foe. I pinched the worn plastic between my fingers, and—
WHAP!
The material zipped up in a fantastic roll.
I stumbled backwards as my eyes shot up to the window.
Ryder.
Chapter 35
‘Ryder?’ It was her definitely her, but it didn’t look like her.
She didn’t answer me but glanced furtively to the ground below.
‘What … what are you doing out there?’ I said, moving to yank up the window. ‘Get in here! You could fall!’
Instead of coming in, she darted to the side of the window and moved quickly from the fire escape to the narrow ledge … way too quickly, given the height. I ran over and pushed the frame all the way up, leaning my head out. Ryder was gliding quickly along the ledge in sneakers. Sneakers? I had no idea what was going on here, but Ryder did not wear sneakers. I pushed my head out the window. ‘Ryder! Come back here!’ Then something else dawned on me. Grey sweats. Ryder did not wear grey sweats. Thoughts whizzed through my head as I watched Ryder approach the end corner of the building. I didn’t think there was a ledge on the other side. Just then engines roared from the alley below. Black SUVs filled the tight strip of pavement. Oh man. Oh man. What the hell was going on here? She had to be running from them! What was she thinking? What was she going to do? What was I going to do? I looked around frantically. She could maybe make the leap to one of the rusty balconies on the building across the alley and then get out through there, but the distance was beyond crazy.
It looked like Ryder was thinking the same thing because she turned slightly so that her back was pinned against the wall.
‘Ryder! Don’t!’
She mumbled something in return.
‘What? I can’t hear you.’
Her face turned back to mine and I caught the words, ‘—warn you about your father.’ She looked away again. I thought I heard her say something like, ‘Plans. Plans for you.’
‘Ryder, come on! Forget that! Come here!’
‘Stay away!’ she yelled abruptly, then dropped her voice and repeated, ‘Stay … stay away from him.’ She adjusted her position against the wall.
Oh God! I couldn’t watch. I mean, I had seen her make big jumps before, but she looked like she was in rough shape, and she didn’t have her gadgets! I looked again at the opposite building to gauge the distance when a glint of metal caught my eye. My focus shot to a window across the alley. A sniper!
What the—everything was happening so fast! Too fast!
My head whipped back around. ‘Ryder!’
Her hands jerked a little, as though my voice had startled her. ‘There’s a sniper!’
It was hard to tell, but her head tilted, as though to indicate she couldn’t hear me.
I pointed at the sniper, but she looked away.
I gripped my windowsill. The sniper stayed frozen. Sights on Ryder. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he taking the shot? Maybe he didn’t want her dead? Maybe it was a last resort?
I had to do something. Something was wrong with Ryder. She—
Suddenly I noticed a flurry of activity below. Men dressed in black were unfurling something right beneath Ryder. A tarp? A net?
Oh no! Sniper guy was going to shoot Ryder, and she’d fall right into the net! Indecision nearly tore me apart. Should I run? Should I try to help?
Next I heard heavy footsteps running from behind me. Yup, they were coming down the hallway to grab me next. Well, I guessed that decided it. I scrambled out my window, first onto the escape then over to the ledge.
Oh boy. I hadn’t realised just how high up my apartment was. I kept my back flat against the wall as I sidestepped slowly towards Ryder.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
Suddenly the side of my foot slapped against something. A pigeon let out a startled noise as it tipped over the edge. ‘Fly, Austin! Fly!’ I screamed, watching the bird drop a few feet. Thankfully, its wings started to flap and he rose up into the air. Maybe Mr Pushkin was right about the pigeons. Focus, Bremy. But how could I? My thoughts were bouncing around like monkeys trapped in barrel.
I edged a few feet farther, past a window.
‘What are you doing?’ a flat voice asked. Kevin.
‘Nothing. Go back inside,’ I said in a tight voice. Then, ‘Oh no, did you sleep over?’ Bart would not do well with that. Then again, I would never know that for sure because I was about to die! ‘Never mind. Go back in. You can’t help here.’
Kevin looked conflicted.
‘Go! You’ll only make it worse.’ Probably like I was doing.
Kevin’s head slowly retreated back into the building. Well, at least someone was listening.
I looked over to Ryder. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get us out of this. I’ll help you!’
For the briefest of moments, she looked like she might argue with me. Tell me to stay out of the way, run, save myself, that she could handle my father on her own. But a small shudder raced over her frame, and she said nothing.
‘I can do this, Ryder! I, I—just tell me what to do!’
She closed her eyes. I had never seen her like this. What had my father done to her?
Chills raced over my sweat dampened skin as my voice dropped to something very small. ‘Please tell me what to do.’
She opened her eyes and rolled them up to the sky, before dropping them back down to me. ‘Look up.’
Chapter 36
I didn’t look up. I stared out in horror as I watched Ryder catapult herself out into the open air above the alley, arms and legs spinning uselessly.
A second later, I heard a soft shot then the hiss of a dart. Ryder’s body jerked into a sickening twist as the hit found her shoulder. I screamed as she dropped straight from the sky into the tarp below.
The men quickly ushered her off into the back of one of the SUVs.
Shock pinned me to the wall. What had I just seen? What was happening?
The glint of the sniper’s gun snapped me back into focus.
The gun was aimed at me! Except … except there was nobody with a tarp waiting down below!
The pads of my fingers gripped tightly against the rough brick. I was going to die. No doubt about it this time. I was a little duck at a fair, but I bet this
shooter was going to get more than a stuffie for knocking me down. Down.
My eyes drifted lower. No! Don’t look down. Never look down … look … look up!
Ryder had said to look up! I rolled my eyes skywards.
No! It couldn’t be! It felt like a mirage, but I was almost sure I saw someone, nearly erased in the glare of the sun, leaning over the edge of the building. Two someones! And they had a rope ladder! Its end nearly within my grasp.
I reached a hand up to grab the rung. My fingertips brushed the rounded metal. I almost had it. I inched up onto my toes even though every instinct was screaming not to do it. Just a little farther …
There! Got it!
I slapped the other hand onto the metal. Of course, my escape route didn’t exactly take care of Mr Sniper.
I looked over my shoulder.
But … but he was having some trouble of his own. Round objects were exploding against the wall of his perch. He had his arm crossed over his face as a shield. I watched him try to aim at me through the volley, but the onslaught against him was relentless. He was being bombarded by … by … porcelain doll heads! Queenie! I craned my head up again. Yup, that was Queenie … and Bart!
I struggled to get my foot on the first rung, ignoring the horrifying feeling of empty air at my back.
‘Move it! Bremy!’
Suddenly a shot hit the wall by my face. I froze, staring at how close I had come to being hit. A sharp astringent smell filled my nose. Definitely a tranquilliser. They had tranked Ryder and taken her away! Me they were just going to trank and let fall to the ground. I looked down to the street once again. Wait! The men with the tarp were back, but they didn’t have it stretched out. One man was on a walkie-talkie, probably awaiting orders. Well, I couldn’t wait for them to decide if I lived or died. I hurried up a few more rungs, as best I could.
‘Bremy!’ Bart yelled again.
‘I’m going as fast as I can!’
I heard another trank bullet hit the wall close by my thigh, but I couldn’t worry about that.
Just keep climbing, Bremy. You’re almost there.
Sidekick Returns Page 19
