by Lisa McMann
She found Mac and Maria standing together outside their first-period classroom, arguing about the action movie they’d seen Saturday morning. Life seemed back to normal for them.
“Hey, it’s M&M,” said Charlie, walking up. She felt her cheeks grow warm as she remembered their last meet-up. She still felt embarrassed about being called out for acting like a showoff. Hopefully they wouldn’t talk about that anymore.
“Hey, Chuck!” said Maria, and Mac held out a fist for her to bump. Mendez, the jerk who’d been at the movie theater the Saturday before last, passed by them in the hallway. He wolf whistled and wagged his eyebrows at Mac and the girls. But this time Mac ignored the kid instead of getting mad. And Maria ignored him too.
“He’ll shut up one of these days,” said Mac after he was gone.
“Notice he never has any girls around him,” Maria said with a sniff.
“Only his mom, because somebody’s got to change his diaper,” said Mac.
Charlie grinned. It was good to be with friends.
Lunch that day was back to normal. Mac ate with Charlie and Maria, and when he was finished, he went off with his other friends, only this time it didn’t feel weird.
“Mac and I talked some more on Saturday after the movie,” Maria said when he left. “He was feeling guilty about slinking away to hang out with his other friends. And I was feeling guilty for hanging out with you and not including him. Because we were so tight, we’d never actually done that before. But we both figured out that if it’s something we like doing, well, what’s the problem exactly?” She laughed. “Just because we’re not glued at the hip anymore, as my mother would say, doesn’t mean we aren’t still best friends.”
“That’s really cool,” said Charlie.
“And,” said Maria, “it doesn’t mean I can’t have two best friends.”
Charlie smiled. She thought of Amari back home. “Two best friends,” she said. “Sounds pretty good to me.”
Kelly kept to herself all day and, to their surprise, didn’t bug Charlie or Mac for answers about Friday’s set-building drama. She seemed especially quiet and brooding today, actually.
In theater class Charlie asked Sara if she’d noticed it.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Sara said. “It’s probably PSLS.”
Charlie frowned. “What’s that?”
“Post-Show Letdown Syndrome,” explained Sara with a laugh. “After working so hard for so long and finally performing the show, it’s over. And now,” she added, with a poor imitation of dramatic flair, “we have nothing left to live for. And we have to tear it all down.”
Charlie laughed. She understood the feeling. It happened in sports, too, at the end of the season. But she didn’t think that was the only thing bothering Kelly. The stagehands Kelly had insulted were still grumbling about her. And others had heard about the mean things she’d said by now. Some even began to whisper about the biting things Kelly sometimes said about other people when they weren’t listening. Perhaps it had finally caught up with her. And then there was the mystery of Kelly’s parents and her trouble at home.
Charlie didn’t spend too much time wondering about her, though. She’d probably never know what that was all about. And she needed to keep her distance—she didn’t want to give Kelly any reason to harass her about her secret again. But that seemed to be forgotten along with the rest of last week’s excitement as they broke down the stage.
Soon the platforms and set designs they’d put so much work into were dissembled. Charlie found herself dragging some of the trash to the same Dumpster she’d lifted a few weeks before.
At soccer practice after school, Coach Candy reviewed the highs and lows of their first game, and then had the team work on their speed drills and passing skills before letting them go a little early as a reward for their first win. Charlie headed over to Maria’s house with her so Mac could enter some more passwords and try to get the device off. Mac was already there, as usual.
He looked up as they walked in. “Can I see the bracelet?” he said.
“Sure,” said Charlie. She dropped her backpack and sat down next to him, then stretched out her arm. While Mac messed around with the bracelet’s buttons to get to the keypad screen and pulled up his list of the most promising options that he’d gathered from his phone apps, Charlie picked up Mac’s iPad with her free hand. She checked her social media accounts and favorited a few of her Chicago friends’ photos, then, out of boredom, she typed “Chimera Mark Five” into the search bar.
There was nothing that put the three words together as an item—only a list of results that had one or two of the words in the context.
“Pfft. Boring,” she said.
Mac looked up from entering codes to see what she was doing. “Oh, I know,” he said. “I searched it back when it went into defense mode. Nada.”
Charlie clicked on links that seemed interesting. But none of them said anything about a bracelet. For the most part, the search landed her on gamers’ message boards.
“There’s no such thing as Chimera Mark Five,” Charlie reported, looking at Maria.
Mac squinted at the bracelet’s screen and inputted the next code. “I just said that.”
Maria frowned. “Nothing at all? How is that even possible? You’d think somebody would be talking about it since it’s so powerful and everything. Are you sure?”
“Well,” said Charlie, “I mean, the words exist separately, obviously. And Mark Five goes together in a lot of instances—like there’s some sort of boat called the Mark V. And it could be a version of a device, like what you said about Iron Man’s suits. But never all three words together indicating a thing.”
“Boo. Maybe it’s top secret.” Maria looked up from the homework she was doing. “Did you find the right code yet, Mac?”
“No,” Mac said. He went back to the bracelet, and then he paused. “You still haven’t activated the other two powers, in case you were wondering.”
“I know. I’ve been checking. I wish we knew what they stood for, at least.”
Mac scrolled slowly through the endless list of codes he’d collected, typing them in one at a time. There were a gagillion options, and those were just the seven-digit alphanumeric codes. But there was no rule that said the code was seven digits. It might be six or five or four. And it was also possible that the code was strictly numbers or letters, he supposed. This task could take an entire lifetime of nonstop typing, and even then there was no guarantee of finding the right one.
After a while he let go of Charlie’s wrist and sighed. “If I knew how long the code was, or if it was numbers or letters or a combination of the two, I might be able to narrow it down a little. But I don’t know if it’s three characters or seven or somewhere in between. And not knowing who sent it, I don’t have any clues at all about what combinations they might be more likely to use. I mean, I’ve entered the twenty most common pin numbers for all the various lengths, and I can go on from there; but let’s be honest—it’s really pointless. I’m just getting error after error.”
Charlie leaned over, and Mac showed her the screen on her bracelet that flashed KEY IN ACCESS CODE TO DEACTIVATE at the top of it. Mac entered the next code on his list and tapped the space with his finger. An ERROR screen popped up.
Charlie sighed. “This thing is stuck on me forever.”
Maria studied Mac. “How did you find out what the twenty most common pin numbers are?”
Mac tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “That’s a business secret.”
“Okay. Well, maybe we don’t know who sent it, but we do know who it was addressed to. What if they programmed the code to be something Charlie could figure out?”
Mac stared at her. For a very, very long moment. “You? Are brilliant,” he said. “Charlie, I’m going to need some info. Phone numbers, house numbers, zip codes, birth date . . .” He found a piece of paper and started scribbling all the things he needed.
Maria shrugged. She closed her
book and looked at Charlie. “And if that doesn’t work, there’s got to be a way to get the bracelet off if that’s really what you want, Chuck. Jaws of Life or something, right? Can’t your mom help? They ought to have some tools at the hospital.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” said Charlie. “I’m not sure if her rinky-dink hospital is big enough to have tools like that, though.”
“Um, excuse me? Navarro Junction hospital has a helipad. It is not rinky-dink,” said Maria.
“No?” Charlie smirked. “What would you call it?”
Mac looked up from his scribbling. “It’s . . . juvenile, like a young gorilla. Still growing—and it doesn’t know its own strength.”
“Oh, okay,” Charlie said with a smirk. “But wouldn’t cutting it off destroy it? I’m not sure I want that to happen.”
“That’s true,” said Maria. “You probably wouldn’t be able to use it again, so that would stink.”
“I don’t know.” Charlie stood up and wandered the bedroom, an uneasy feeling growing inside her. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She was really confused about how she felt about the powers the bracelet gave her. Sometimes she wished she’d never put on the bracelet, and other times she couldn’t picture her life without these new abilities.
“It’s the healing power that would be a real bummer to lose,” she said, remembering how she might be sitting out soccer this season with a broken leg if it hadn’t been for the device. And then she shook her head, feeling horribly restless. “Ugh. I can’t even deal with this right now. Let’s just go kick the ball around outside or something.” She charged out of the room.
Mac looked up from his list of questions, like he was about to stop her, but she was already gone. “Well,” he said.
“Wow,” said Maria. “She’s stressed out.”
“We’d better go.” Mac put the paper on Charlie’s backpack and they got up to follow.
Charlie forged down the hallway and past the kitchen, where Maria’s stepdad, Ken, was pulling a huge cast-iron skillet from a cabinet and putting it on the stove. Her grandmother Yolanda was stooping in front of the refrigerator, taking out several butcher-wrapped packages and an armful of onions. Maria’s stepbrothers were nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, Charlie,” Ken said cheerfully as she raced by.
“Hi,” Charlie said, not stopping. She burst through the door as if the house were suffocating her, but the feeling didn’t go away once she got outside. The bracelet felt like it had turned into a huge metal body cast that was squeezing her too tightly.
She stopped in the driveway and stood there a moment, taking a few deep breaths, trying to accept the fact that if she really wanted the bracelet off, she’d have to ask for help. But if she did, would she have to tell her mother everything? What would happen?
And then suddenly she realized it wasn’t that big of a deal. She didn’t have to mention the powers. Her mom didn’t need to know the real reason why she wanted it off—wouldn’t anybody want the same thing if they had a bracelet stuck on them?
That thought calmed her. She blew out a breath. Just knowing she had the option made everything so much better.
As she heard the screen door open and close behind her, two little kids on bikes whizzed up the street toward her. They were yelling something, and they sounded scared.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie called out to them, her stomach suddenly nervous.
Maria and Mac joined her, and Maria grabbed Charlie’s arm. “What’s going on?”
“Fire! Fire! There’s a fire!” one of the kids said.
“What?” Maria cried. “Where?”
“At the end of the street! The man said to get help!”
CHAPTER 36
Fire!
Charlie, Mac, and Maria exchanged looks. A split second later the three of them broke into a run. It didn’t take long for them to detect a hint of smoke in the air.
Maria looked over her shoulder. “Mac, call 9-1-1!”
Mac was already dialing as he loped along behind them.
“Charlie, is your bracelet activated?”
Charlie didn’t have to touch it to know—warmth spread up her arm. “Yes,” she said. A sickening wave of fear swept over her as the bracelet grew even warmer without her having to do anything. A fire? That was way more than she could handle. She ran blindly. Numbly. She couldn’t think straight. She took a few deep breaths. “You can do this,” she said to herself, not even sure what it was she would have to do. Just knowing she had to do something.
She sped up. “I gotta go help,” she said over her shoulder, giving her friends one last earnest look. And then, with a burst of speed, she tore down the street, not caring who saw her.
Once she rounded a curve in the road, the fire was impossible to miss. Smoke poured heavily from a two-story house, and the acrid odor of it was inescapable. A neighbor was frantically trying to attach a tangled garden hose to the spigot on the side of her house. A small crowd gathered nearby, helpless as flames licked the first-story windows. Some of the bystanders were talking fearfully on their phones, while others held theirs up to record the tragedy.
Crouched on the edge of a flat section of the roof was a screaming woman, who pointed to a nearby window on the second floor.
Someone must be trapped inside, thought Charlie. Her blood surged as she reached the scene. She had to do something! But how was she supposed to get up to the second story when flames were coming out of all the doors and windows on the main floor? She broke through the crowd and ran toward the house. Instinct took over. She leaped up in the air, grabbing on to a thin copper pipe that ran up the side of the house. Then she quickly shinnied up it to the flat second-story roof. Her mind focused laser-like on the task and shut out the reaction from the crowd below.
At the top, she hoisted herself onto the roof and sprang to her feet. The woman ran to her, hysterical, tugging at Charlie’s shirt and saying something in Spanish. Charlie didn’t understand.
“Come on, I’ll get you down,” she said to the woman, holding out her arms.
The woman shook her head and pointed inside the broken window. She started screaming again.
Charlie tuned in to someone yelling the same thing over and over from below. “Her son is trapped! She won’t come down without him.”
Charlie could feel the fiery heat coming from inside. Sweat poured down her face. She peered into the window but couldn’t see anything but soot and flashes of fire in the darkness. It would be stupid to go in there. But someone needed her help. What else was Charlie supposed to do? She couldn’t leave them there.
Charlie closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. No one in her right mind would enter a burning building for the sake of a stranger unless she was a firefighter. But here Charlie was. Doing it. She hoped the bracelet wouldn’t glitch now and that the healing power would kick in immediately when necessary.
With a grunt, Charlie ripped a strip of cloth from her T-shirt and tied it around her head, over her nose and mouth. She took one last deep breath and dove through the broken window and over the line of flames. She landed on her back, rolled to her hands and knees, and crawled out of the room and into the hallway.
With the thick smoke and soot covering the windows, it was almost as dark as night inside the house except for the flare-ups. Charlie couldn’t see anything. Her heart sank—she’d never be able to find the boy this way. She pulled her mask up to her forehead to stop the sweat from stinging her eyes and crept forward.
As she moved along, she heard strange echoing chirps and tilted her head, trying to figure out where they were coming from. Was there a pet bird in the house too? But she soon ignored the chirps because, in front of her, a shimmering outline of a hallway appeared like a silver shadow in the darkness. Encouraged, she got to her feet and, keeping low, set off in search of the boy.
The odd chirping continued and so did the shimmering silver shadows, outlining everything in her path. The air was thick. One room was fully engulf
ed—there was no chance of survival if the woman’s son was in there. Charlie grabbed the doorknob to pull the door shut and keep the fire from getting to the hallway, and yelped in pain—the knob was white-hot. Her hand throbbed. The smoke was horrible. Charlie knew she didn’t have much time before she’d have to get out.
Then she heard a small cry from behind a closed door on the other side of a fiery patch of carpet. Charlie ran deftly toward the sound. A moment later a burning chunk of the ceiling fell across the hallway behind her. She was surrounded by fire.
Panicking and knowing she had to act fast, she pulled her T-shirt mask over her mouth and nose again, then bent over, dug her fingers into the carpet, and ripped the burning section up from the floor. She rolled it down the hallway past the closed door and stomped on it to put out the fire.
Lungs burning, Charlie returned to the door and tested the knob gingerly. It was hot but tolerable. She flung the door open. With less smoke in this room, she pulled her mask off—she could breathe in here. Immediately the chirping began again, and Charlie realized that the sound was coming from her! She watched in awe as the shimmering silver outlines of a dresser, changing table, and crib formed in the semidarkness. What was happening? Whatever it was, she didn’t have time to figure it out now.
Charlie gulped at the air. Her eyes and throat stung, but she couldn’t do anything for that now. She crawled toward the crib, and her chirps grew faster, more insistent. The shape of a little body standing in the crib appeared before her. She sprang to her feet, ran to the sobbing boy, and scooped him up. But how was she going to get him out of here safely?
She scanned the room, and the chirping became even more insistent. More shapes appeared before her: stuffed animals, a rocking chair, some sort of small appliance in the corner. Pulling a blanket from the boy’s crib, she moved to the corner of the room to see what the item was. She felt around it, then pushed against it and got the rewarding sloshing sound she was hoping for. Humidifier! she thought triumphantly. She twisted the top and pulled out the mechanical part, exposing the water trough. She doused the blanket and wrapped the boy in it like she’d learned in her summer classes at the Y. Then she splashed the remaining water over her hair and on the face mask. She secured the mask over her face again. With the child wrapped up, she held him tightly to her chest and looked out into the hallway.
