The Impossible Pitcher

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The Impossible Pitcher Page 10

by Charles Curtis


  Okay, how about … POWER! Still nothing.

  “You think your nanobots can get you out of this? Please.” He turned off the flashlight and stood back up to address the group. “Alright, transport will be here in seven minutes. Keep the lights off and prepare for departure. Tell the rest of the team we’re still on lockdown and to keep the hostages where they are until we’re ready.”

  I was done. It was over. I’d never see my parents or friends again. As I tried to keep raindrops from falling directly into my eye, my gaze fell on my feet. Wait! Of course! The panic button! Why didn’t I think of that before? What an idiot! I knew what I needed next: A miracle.

  I heard snapping and crackling coming from somewhere, like a live electrical wire was nearby.

  “Where the hell is that coming from? Find it!” Carson shouted. The crackling got louder. Then …

  ZZZZZZZZZZZAP.

  SOPHI?

  An enormous lightning bolt snaked through the sky above me and hit the scoreboard on the fence. Sparks flew from the scoreboard, setting it on fire and lighting up the sky.

  I shut my eyes but heard screams around me. The burst of light must have blinded their night vision goggles!

  Then I heard screams of a different kind. It sounded like the noise I heard from the football when we took the field at games.

  The sound of bodies getting hit filled the air.

  “Flab! Stop or I’ll—” Carson yelled before I heard a thud and the sound of a couple of punches.

  Flab? What was he doing here? There he was, above me.

  “Get up. Now! There’s no time.”

  Flab! You saved me. Get the clip off me!

  “Dude, now, we can’t fight them for this long!” The sounds of battles filled the air. I tried rolling my eyes toward my back. Go THIS way. Turn me over and take the clip off!

  Unbelievably, he understood. “Handcuffs?” He flipped me over. “This thing? URGH!”

  Flab was slammed to the ground by someone. But he had removed the paralyzing device.

  I pulled up the pant leg on my left ankle, opened the plastic case and pressed the red panic button.

  Nothing happened. Oh God. But I had to help Flab. As I turned around, Coach Carson reached toward his back to grab something. I ran over and tackled him, sending a gun flying. The fiery scoreboard illuminated the rest of the scene: my other teammates pounding their blinded opponents.

  Flab jumped on Coach Carson and they wrestled. But everyone stopped as another light illuminated the scene and the roar of jet engines deafened us.

  BOOM.

  My football-and baseball-playing robot landed on the field next to me. Its red eyes scanned the scene and suddenly, the arms reached out and grabbed me.

  “NO! WHERE’S SOPHI?” No one could hear me above the robot’s engines. The metal arms held me over its chest plate as a glass case surrounded me.

  Carson scrambled over to his gun and began shooting at the robot. PING! PING! PING-PING! Every one of his bullets glanced away. The robot responded by holding out its “hand” and it shot an electric bolt at Carson, knocking him unconscious. Flab and the rest of the team cheered.

  The engines got louder. I tried frantically waving to them, pointing back toward school. “Go! Now!” I screamed, hoping they could read my lips and take Sophi to safety. I remembered Carson mentioning a transport arriving soon.

  “Hold on tight, kid,” the robot said with its Peyton Manning voice.

  In the next second, the robot took off.

  Everything went black.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I groggily opened my eyes to find myself laying face-down on cold metal. I leaped up in a panic. I recognized the giant computer screen, the treadmill and all the vials and tubes. I was back in my parents’ sub-basement lair. The robot was nowhere to be found.

  I had no idea what to do next. I sank to my knees and crumpled into a ball as tears began streaming down my face. That’s how I spent the next 15 minutes until I eventually calmed down and stood up.

  “Okay, Tooey,” I said out loud. It felt good just to speak, even it was to myself. “You’re alive and back home. You’ve got to take it one step at a time. What’s first?”

  My stomach rumbled in response. But that took a backseat because some movement caught my eye in the upper left corner of the screen. It was a blinking cursor that popped up after I’d spoken. I walked over to the rolling chair in front of the keyboard and pressed the ENTER key.

  My father’s face popped up on screen. It was a video, with the date showing it was shot a few days ago.

  “Alex, if you’re opening this and watching, it means you hit the panic button and got back home okay.” He adjusted his glasses and smiled nervously. “That’s a relief. But it also means Mom and I aren’t there. This is also the video I shot in case we were captured, so …”

  He looked away. Just as I suspected, they had been taken. After a beat, he turned back to the camera.

  “Your job as of right now is to sit tight. We have an entire contingency plan if we were captured and it’s already begun being executed. You must—and I can’t stress this enough—stay in the basement for now.”

  “WHAT?” I yelled. How was I supposed to eat and drink? Where was I supposed to sleep? Maybe Dad predicted that would be my reaction because he smiled slightly.

  “There’s a bedroom with a bathroom deeper in the facility which has everything you’ll need. Food and drinks will come from Morimoto, which is under strict orders to feed you your favorites and to limit your junk food intake. Food will be delivered though the small door at the back of the room.”

  I turned in the chair to see a metal table in the back. There was a square door above it that somehow led up to the kitchen.

  I turned my attention back to Dad, who turned away from the camera again, clearly getting choked up.

  “This is the most important thing I’ll say: None of this is your fault. Not one bit of it. You were caught in the middle of a war that you never asked to be a part of. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am and how much I regret, but know this: Your mother and I are so proud of you and the way you’ve handled yourself.”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled.

  “We both love you so much. Be safe, stay strong, and keep optimistic.”

  The screen went black. I was ready to cry again before a whirr and a click made me leap out of my chair. I turned around to see the Morimoto door open and a tray of food pop out on to the table. I walked over to examine it: Medium-rare lamb chops, garlic mashed potatoes, green beans, a vanilla cupcake and a tall glass of fizzing soda along with a bottle of water. My favorite meal with a rare treat (the soda). Good first step, Mom and Dad.

  I wolfed down the meal in minutes and began exploring my surroundings. I found an outline of a handprint on a wall I’d never seen before. I placed my palm over it and a door whooshed open to reveal a long hallway. I could see the robot at the end with its head down and “eyes” shut. Another door opened into my bedroom, which was surprisingly larger than what I expected. It had a large TV, a video game console, a closet, a desk and a bed.

  I pulled out my cell phone, which of course didn’t have service or Internet capabilities on it, but the screen read 9:54 p.m. I felt like I could fall asleep that minute. In fact, that’s exactly what I did, pulling the covers over me and calling out, “Lights off.”

  It was the worst night of sleep ever. I woke up seemingly every hour with my heart pounding. Getting back to sleep was a challenge as I tried to forget that my parents, friends, protectors, and everyone else were missing.

  Finally, at 6 a.m., I threw back the covers and called out, “Lights on.”

  “Good morning, Alex.” I could always depend on Dad’s computerized house to keep me company. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  “A slice of chocolate layer cake and a milkshake.”

  “Try again.”

  It was worth a t
ry. I asked for eggs, toast, and strawberries, which the computer approved.

  I spent the rest of the morning trying to find some normalcy. I showered, changed my clothes, tried playing one of my favorite video games for all of five minutes before giving up due to distraction, and continued to look around the sub-basement.

  That included an hour of trying to unlock the computer, which wouldn’t do anything despite my attempts to do just about everything including inspecting every inch for a power switch.

  Over lunch, I sat at my desk, which turned out to have pens and notebooks. Sorry, Mom and Dad, no school, no homework. Still, I took out one book and opened to a blank sheet.

  Mom and Dad: Captured. By Kieran? Who does Kieran work for?

  That was the biggest question of them all. I had no leads or clues to help me figure out the answers … yet.

  Sophi: Last seen at school during the attack. No idea where she is.

  The last time I saw her face was Math class when she’d spotted Coach Schmick, but those lightning bolts that blew up the scoreboard had to belong to her. A nervous ice ball of nerves in my stomach felt even bigger. She’d helped save me, but what happened to her?

  Dex: Missing from school. Captured? Taken to safety?

  Another question without anything to back up an answer. Knowing Dex’s father was one of our protectors meant there was a good chance he’d taken my best friend to safety. Maybe he even took some of our guards with him, too.

  Kenny: ?????

  After our sleepover, he was back at school just like me. Was there a similar attack at Harmon High?

  I stared at the list as I finished my turkey sandwich. In exchange for saving the four of us from diseases, syndromes and disabilities, not to mention countless others, they had been captured and we, the saved children, were all in danger again.

  Red light flashed over the white paper. I looked up and saw it was coming from a blinking light in the main room. I ran down the hall and opened the door. The computer screen turned on as an alarm klaxon went off.

  There were eight different views of the main underground hallway leading to my new home and the flash of someone jogging down. I squinted and saw the top of his head from one of the cameras.

  No question about it: I saw a head of jet black hair with a gray patch in it and that same trench coat I’d seen him in before. I broke out in a sweat as I saw his face pop up. It was definitely Patch.

  “… override security … Quebec, Lima, seven-two-nine-Zulu-zero-six-zero,” I heard him say as he moved faster toward my front door. Suddenly, the red lights stopped blinking and the alarm stopped blaring. How did he know what to do?

  More importantly: There was no way he could get in here, right?

  Still, I had to think fast. I ran to the table in the back in front of the Morimoto door and pushed it right next to the front entrance.

  A few seconds later, he arrived at the door. He’d need a truck full of explosives or one of my parent’s watches, which provided a password that changed every two minutes, to get through. I think I’m safe for now.

  Then, I saw him look down at his wrist. “Koala-oh-five-argyle-two,” he called out.

  I jumped up on the table as the doors opened.

  POWER.

  I launched myself at Patch as he entered and expected to nail him with a blow to the head.

  Instead, the next thing I saw was a field of blue electricity. I bounced off it and went flying backwards, hitting the floor back first and sliding. I looked up to see Patch holding up his arms, which had two metal wristbands that seemed to be the source of the blue electricity. It was some kind of force field.

  “Alex, sit down. I’m here to help.”

  I got up slowly and walked toward him. I spotted a chair next to me as I got closer.

  “Alex, don’t—”

  POWER. In a half-second, I whipped the chair at him. But somehow, he was quicker, deflecting it with the force field toward the wall. He sighed and pointed a fist at me.

  “Don’t make me knock you out. Stand down. Your father sent me.”

  “How do I know that? You’re that stalker that’s been following me everywhere … and it looks like you took his watch.”

  “Computer, this is the failsafe. Permission for override.”

  “Voice identified. Please place eyes on scanner.”

  Patch walked over to the side of the screen, where what looked like pair of goggles popped out from the wall. He put his face in them for a few seconds.

  “Access granted,” the mechanized voice replied. The security video displays disappeared off the screen.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Computer, please put failsafe video number nine on screen.”

  Another video popped up on the screen. This one was dated from November of last year and this time, it was Mom.

  “This is failsafe video number nine. If you’re watching this, Alex, it means we’ve been captured and that you’re safe downstairs. It also means our ally is there with you and has accessed this footage. It is vital that you listen to everything he says. This is the person we’ve put in charge in case we were gone. You can trust him. Good luck. We love you.”

  The screen went to static before shutting off. Patch walked over and grabbed the chair I’d thrown and put it in front of the rolling seat near the computer, which he took for himself. He motioned to the other chair.

  “Not until you explain who you are,” I said, clenching my fists.

  “I’ll answer every question I can,” he said. “My name is Vance Strange.”

  What? As in, the Vance M. Strange Country Day School?

  “Like his grandson?”

  He shook his head.

  “But didn’t he—you—start the school in like 1900?”

  “That would be 1904. Come. Sit.”

  I didn’t break my gaze with his as I took the seat in front of his.

  “Go ahead,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

  “That would make you way over 100 years old.”

  “I see my school has a terrific math department.” He must have seen my glare, so he moved on. “Alex, the legend was true. I did disappear and discover a fountain of youth.”

  He leaned closer. “I was diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease in the 1950s. I paid all kinds of doctors to try to do something about it, but none of them could. Then, I heard about an experimental surgery in South America that a collective of doctors was trying on a very select group of patients, one that involved emerging technology. It turned out to be successful with one very important side effect: It slowed the aging process to a crawl. The procedure also helped make me stronger than I’d ever been before.”

  This was too weird, even for what I’d been through.

  “Months went by and I found out the doctors who did the procedure had been killed, their laboratory blown sky high and their research was destroyed. They—whoever ‘they’ were—came after me next, so I simply faked my own passing and disappeared.”

  “So why are you the failsafe? Why were you following me all those times?”

  He held up a hand. “Almost there, my boy.”

  “Decades passed and I heard about a small group of scientists working on similar procedures with technology miles ahead of what was used on me,” he continued. I immediately knew where this was going. “I kept a close eye on those geniuses, including when they pulled their own disappearing act. Years after that, I reached out to one of them and told him my old hometown would be a perfect spot for him, his family and the others who he’d worked with, if they chose to follow. I could help fund them, too.”

  “That night I went to the city with Sophi … they thought you were dangerous.”

  He smiled. “I needed to see what you two could do with my own eyes. It was incredible. Your father had never met me in person. His security detail—which, I might add, was one of the best I’d ever seen—took me to your parents for questioning. So I revealed myself and th
ey asked if I could help if you were ever in true danger,” he spread his arms out, “and here I am.”

  I was still skeptical. “What did you get out of it?”

  He lowered his head and pointed to the white patch. “My technology had begun to fail last year, so your father promised he’d do what he could to fix it. Unfortunately, he was captured before he could help. So, we’ve got a shared goal. We’ve got to find him before I die of old age or the disease gets me and you’ve got to get your parents back.”

  “Wait, you know they were taken? We need to get them! Now!”

  He nodded. “Your suspicions about Kieran were correct. At least that’s what I’m hearing.”

  “I was too late.” I began tearing up again. “Now they’re gone. So are my friends.”

  Vance put a hand on my shoulder. “All is not lost, Alex.”

  He pulled out something from the inner pocket of his trench coat as I wiped the tears away. It was a small, plastic stick. He removed the top to reveal it was an ordinary flash drive.

  “Your father gave me this for safe-keeping when I agreed to help. I have no idea what it contains, but we’re going to find out.”

  He found the USB plug and stuck the drive in. The screen immediately illuminated and, nearly instantaneously, showed a list scrolling up so fast I couldn’t read what was on it.

  Then, the scrolling stopped. Suddenly, up popped another window. A photo of a blond kid with green eyes stared back and information filled the screen. Another window then opened and the same thing happened with a young girl’s photo. The windows continued to open as I tried to read the information.

  Martinez, Jesus …

  Carbone, Tricia …

  Procedure: 7/24/02 …

  Last contact: 1/17/05 …

  Last known address …

  It hit me.

  This was a list. It was the list, my parents’ database full of information about kids with other powers. Most of them may not even know why they had special abilities. Maybe they could help me. Maybe they’re being hunted. Either way, the list was my first step.

 

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