7

by James Phelan

  Sam nodded.

  Tobias’ plan involved returning to the barn and locating a small hatch in the floor, hidden under a pile of hay bales. The hatch opened to reveal a small tunnel that connected the barn to the house.

  “I dug this out one year over summer vacation, when I came home from the Academy,” Tobias explained. “Took me weeks. I was planning to run another train system through here, if I remember correctly.”

  Sam shuddered to think of the spiders that had since made that tunnel their home.

  “OK, remember the plan?” Tobias asked Sam as he lowered himself through the hatch door. “Your job is to create a distraction, and then escape. Go as soon as you get the signal from me in the house.”

  Sam nodded, as Tobias disappeared down into the black tunnel. “Wait! What’s the signal?” he whispered loudly into the tunnel after him.

  “You’ll know when you see it and hear it,” came a distant reply from underground.

  So, this distraction …

  Crouching as he made his way through the long grass, Sam climbed up into the seat of the tractor. Parked in front of the harvester, it was huge in its own right. Four wheels at the back, two at the front, with an engine strong enough to tow a few trucks. Coupled to the harvester, it was perfect for the job at hand—to be a wrecking ball.

  Sam went through the directions given by Tobias—the key was turned to the “ON” position, all he had to do was give it one more turn to the next notch which would start the motor. Then he could release the brakes, put it into gear and his foot on the gas would do the rest.

  Well, I do have to steer this thing …

  Sam looked at the water tower close to the house.

  Right, wrecking ball.

  He closed the glass door to the cabin, staying low down in the chair and as still as possible. He could hear his own accelerated breathing. He watched the house, the silhouettes of Agents through the curtains making themselves at home.

  What are they waiting for? They must have thought recording my dreams will take hours by the looks of how relaxed they are.

  Sam looked from the house to the aircraft. Sleek and black, and so out of place in this idyllic farm setting.

  Plan B.

  Sam quickly looked back to the house. Still the same.

  Poor old Duke would still be unconscious. Such a small and frail old man, he might be out for days if they’d used the standard amount of tranquilizer in the dart.

  Sam imagined Tobias, crawling underground toward the house through the spider-filled tunnel. He shuddered. Then his mind raced through Plan B. Not that he wanted to have to enact it, but it needed to be thought through, just in case.

  As Tobias had explained it, Plan B was to be put into motion at the moment that Sam felt he had a chance to escape but Tobias didn’t.

  The other barn.

  Sam could see it. The driveway led to it, skirting around the house as though it formed a roundabout. There was something in there that Tobias called Bullitt, and he assured Sam that it would get him out of harm’s way if he needed it.

  Sam shook off the thought. Plan A would work. It had to. He didn’t want to be separated from Tobias, and he didn’t want to leave Duke behind with Stella and her gang of—

  KLAP-BOOM!

  Flames erupted from the kitchen windows of the house. Two rogue Agents flew through the windows, landing in the field.

  Nice! That’d be my signal!

  Sam turned the key on the tractor. Nothing happened.

  He turned the key again. Nothing. Only the control panel lit up. He heard commotion coming from inside the house.

  Sam frantically searched the instrument panel before him.

  What am I missing?

  A fire was raging in the house. The whole side wall where the kitchen had been was now engulfed in flames.

  Get out of there, Tobias!

  PLINK!

  Sam focused on the glass in front of him. Something had hit it.

  PLINK!

  Darts! Agents were firing at him from on top of the water tower, hitting the front panel of the windshield in quick succession. The glass was thick, built to withstand farming accidents, maybe even tornadoes.

  Gotta get moving—how do I start this thing?!

  In front of Sam, a big round green glowing button read: START.

  Are you kidding me?

  Sam pushed the button.

  VROOOM!

  The tractor was already in gear with the brake off. He pushed his foot down on the gas pedal and the result was instant forward momentum.

  VROOOOOM!

  “Yeeeeehaaaaaaaa!” Sam called out. “Hang on, Tobias, I’m coming!”

  18

  As he approached the house and the water tower, his heart raced even faster at the sight of the fire, flames licking up and consuming one side of the wooden house. Agents spilled out of the windows and doors, covering their eyes and mouths from the searing heat and smoke. Sparks flew out of windows as part of the ceiling gave way.

  PLINK! PLINK!

  Sam turned the wheel of the tractor at the last moment, so that one of the massive rear tires hit the closest leg of the water tower.

  The result was instant—and spectacular. The water tower fell like a house of cards toward the farmhouse. Steam erupted and hissed on impact.

  Sam turned and looked out of the rear window of the tractor’s cab. Behind him he could see that the fallen water tower had sandwiched the trailing harvester against what was left of the back of the house.

  Time to get out of here.

  Around the other side of the house, Sam could see a couple of Agents out cold on the ground. The sleek black jet reflected the bright orange flames that were still raging on one side of the house. Water flooded all over as it spilled and sloshed from the toppled tower and over the wooden frame of the farmhouse.

  There was movement at the front door—

  Tobias was carrying Duke over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, shooting a dart pistol with his other hand as he ran toward the jet.

  Tobias needs another distraction. Plan B.

  Sam ran to the second barn, crashing right through the old wooden door in a determined shoulder barge. He hastily pulled an old canvas cover from a shape in the corner. A car.

  Bullitt.

  Sam climbed in the driver’s side and turned the key without hesitation. The old Mustang started up with a throaty roar. Sam gave the gas pedal a couple of little taps, selected Drive as he released the brake, and hit it.

  Bullitt shot through the barn’s old wooden doors like they were made of paper. Two Agents pursuing Tobias turned at the new sound.

  Sam leaned on the horn. The Agents dived out of the way at the last moment as Sam roared past along the rough driveway, stirring up clouds of dust as he passed.

  TINK!

  The driver’s side window cracked.

  Stella. She stood in the middle of the paddock, her gun levelled at Sam.

  TINK!

  The windshield cracked. Sam slammed on the brakes and yanked the wheel hard to the right, almost doing a complete circle on the dusty path, throwing up billowing dust clouds. Facing Stella once more, now with two Agents by her side, coughing and squinting through the dust, but just as focused on Sam.

  That’s right, keep your eyes here.

  TINK!

  One of Stella’s darts glanced off the cracked windshield.

  Sam revved the engine. He looked past Stella to see Tobias climb the stairs to the aircraft, Duke slumped over his shoulder.

  Gotta buy them just a little more time.

  Sam slammed the accelerator to the floor. The back tires spun on the spot for a moment trying to get traction and creating another dust storm. Sam shot forward.

  TINK! TINK! TINK!

  Stella and her men held their ground and continued to fire at the approaching car.

  The jet started up. The engines whining, burning hot.

  Still Stella did not move, her eyes intent on Sam and th
e car speeding directly toward where she stood.

  TINK! TINK!

  The shattering windshield was a mass of cracks. Sam could barely see out as the darts flew thick and fast.

  Sam kept his foot on the accelerator, building speed.

  Almost there …

  Stella and the Agents threw themselves out of the way as the Mustang raced past. Sam caught Stella’s look of enraged frustration as she watched him go.

  At the same moment, the jet rose vertically up into the sky, hovering above the ground and creating an immense dust storm over the farmhouse.

  Plan B.

  Tobias would keep the dust storm raging, obscuring the vision of Stella and her Agents while Sam got out to safety on the open road.

  Sam was driving blind. But he knew that the way ahead was flat farmland and that it would be several minutes until he reached the gate down near the road, so he kept the steering wheel steady and drove in what he imagined was a straight line. He turned on his headlights to help him see, the light bouncing back at him from the dust in the air. The fuel gauge showed the tank was half full. Enough to get away.

  Sam knew he wouldn’t be stopping until he felt safe. Then he’d call the Academy and get help on the scene. Tobias’ final words about Plan B rang in his ears.

  Go down the driveway and don’t look back. Follow the road out, get to the highway. Fast as you can. Remember to drive carefully through the tight corners—don’t drift out on the gravel. I’ll hold them off here, call for help and look after Duke. You get yourself away, with the Gears, fast as you can—beat them to Cody and run, run, run.

  The dust cleared and Sam finally pulled his foot back from the accelerator, just a fraction. He could see the fence up ahead. Not wanting to get out of the car, he nudged it closer to the old gate and slowed to a crawl. Instead of the chain snapping, the dry wood posts either side of the old metal gate pulled forward, coming out of the ground completely. Sam accelerated once more and drove over the wrecked gate, onto the gravel driveway, and then pulled out onto the road.

  He took a glance back as he turned toward the highway. He could see the huge ball of dust, still glowing at its core from the house fire. By the swirling dust storm he could tell that the black jet still hovered up in the sky somewhere, but he could see no tell-tale signs of pursuing vehicles.

  Not yet.

  Sam squeezed his hands tighter on the steering wheel and steeled his nerves.

  OK, no backpack means no phone and no money for more gas … but I have the Gears.

  He took a final glance at the inferno in his rear-view mirror before it disappeared from sight. Only a twist of dark grey smoke curling into the afternoon sky over the horizon could be seen as Sam drove the Mustang east.

  19

  EVA

  Lora was driving the Porsche Boxster like a race-car driver.

  “You really think the dealership believed you when you said you wanted to take this for a test drive?” Eva asked.

  “Sure,” Lora said. “They gave us the keys, didn’t they?”

  The highway ahead was nearly deserted and Lora let the sports car cruise at high speed.

  “I’m sure they expected us to just go around the block a few times …” Eva said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’ll check in with Jedi for an update.” Eva pulled out her phone.

  The call was answered immediately back at the Academy. “Good timing,” Jedi said over the speakerphone. “I’ve just tracked your location via your phone—whoa, you’re really moving! Are you in an aircraft?”

  “No, that’s just Lora’s driving,” Eva said.

  “Well, it’s going to have to get pretty fancy,” Jedi replied.

  “Why’s that?” Lora asked, wary.

  “So,” Jedi said, “you know how Mac’s guys are on your tail?”

  “Yeah, we know,” Lora said, “though we haven’t seen him and his gorillas for a while.”

  “Well,” Jedi said, “you may be seeing them again soon. His gorillas are looking for you right now.”

  Eva looked at Lora as they both realized their suspicions about Mac were true. And if his men captured them again, they would be unlikely to get a second chance at freedom.

  “How far out?” Lora asked, increasing the speed of the car even further along the empty highway. Eva held on tightly to her seat.

  “Can’t say exactly,” Jedi replied. “Our Enterprise colleagues have also pointed out that Mac’s got a lot of cool tech at play in his search for you.”

  “We’ll outrun them,” Lora replied, confident. “No one’s going to get in our way and stop us from getting to Sam.”

  “Ah, yeah, you see that’s going to be a problem,” Jedi said. “On two fronts.”

  Jedi explained that he’d just heard from Tobias, and that he and Sam had had to split up in order to escape from Stella.

  “Where is Sam now?” Eva asked.

  “My satellite tracking has him headed across Texas toward the Arizona border. And Tobias is touching down the Enterprise aircraft in Houston. He is taking his uncle to hospital and will then join up with a Guardian team to meet Sam.”

  “OK, we’ll head there too,” Lora said.

  “And that other thing …” Jedi said, “the problem on the other front …”

  “Yes?” Lora asked.

  “It should be, ah, in your rear-view mirror right about now.”

  Lora glanced in the mirror. Eva looked over her shoulder. A tiny glint was all that could be seen on the horizon.

  “What is that?” Eva asked, straining to make it out.

  Some kind of aircraft?

  “I don’t think we want to know!” Lora said.

  20

  SAM

  There was very little fuel left in the Mustang’s tank when Sam found a gas station. He pulled into a space near the station and turned off the engine, considering his options. It was late now, he didn’t have any money to buy gas, and he was hungry and tired. He rummaged through the car and found a total of $2.85.

  “Great,” Sam said, looking at the change in his hand. “That’ll get me two chips and a couple of km’s down the road.”

  He caught his reflection in the rear-view mirror. He neatened up his hair and wiped some dirt from his cheek. Then, making sure that no one was looking, he changed the appearance of his Stealth Suit from the casual jeans and hoody to a leather jacket, checked shirt and jeans.

  I may be fifteen, but I can try my hardest not to look it.

  He entered the diner next to the gas station and took a seat at the counter. With the money from the car, he bought a road map and a coffee, and waited for the payphone to be free. The place was packed with truckers, and the smell of hamburgers and steaks sizzling made his stomach growl.

  “More coffee, hon?” the waitress asked. She was a sweet-faced lady in her fifties, with ruddy checks and curly strawberry blond hair. Her name tag said “Flo.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Sam said. He added four sugars and a heap of milk to the steaming cup.

  Looking at the map, Sam worked out he was about fifty miles east of Albuquerque, roughly halfway between Amarillo and the Grand Canyon. If he somehow managed to fill Bullitt’s tank, he could be there by daybreak.

  Someone roared with laughter behind him and Sam nearly slipped off the chair in fright. His coffee spilled and he tried to mop it up with napkins, until Flo passed him a sponge. Sam turned to see a man laughing at a comic strip in the paper

  It’s just a guy, Sam. Relax, don’t draw attention to yourself.

  He looked around the diner and out in the parking lot, for any suspicious faces. No one gave him a second glance as they ate their meals.

  I should collect call Lora, tell her everything, and see what she thinks I should do.

  Sam absently looked out at the fuel pumps, then up at the underside of the roof covering the garage to see if there were any security cameras.

  What are you thinking? No, don’t steal gas.

  Sam was lost in that thoug
ht for a moment, his mind trying to rationalize it out of desperation.

  It’ll only be about fifty bucks, and it is for the good of humanity.

  “Headed to the Grand Canyon?” Flo asked, topping up his coffee again.

  “Ah, yeah,” Sam replied, stirred from his thoughts and looking down at the map where his finger rested on the dot that marked the tiny town of Forsyth. “Meeting a friend there.”

  “Hmm, nice time of year for it,” Flo said. “Clear skies. Should see a lot.”

  “Yeah, I hope so,” Sam said, sipping his coffee and looking again out to the parking lot. The vintage Mustang was like a grandfather compared to the others out there but it gleamed factory new.

  How am I going to get money for gas …?

  “That’s your old ’68?” Flo asked.

  “It’s—it’s my uncle’s,” Sam said, figuring this wasn’t such a lie since he looked to Tobias as an uncle, and it was Tobias’ uncle’s.

  “She’s a real beauty,” Flo said. “1968 Mustang, made famous in the movie Bullitt, you know that, right? Will have to show my husband, he had one just like that when we met. Course, it wasn’t a classic back then—practically brand new.”

  Sam nodded and smiled as she pointed out her husband through the kitchen window, a huge guy with a head like a smiling bulldog, expertly working the grill. The smell of the food made Sam’s stomach groan again.

  “Ah, I’ll be back in a sec,” Sam said, noting the payphone was now free. He picked up the receiver and called the Academy’s emergency number.

  “Academy,” the voice said.

  “This is Sam,” he said quietly into the phone, not wanting to be overheard and looked at suspiciously by other diners. “Emergency field protocol Alpha.”

  The voice replied, “Copy that protocol Alpha, hold the line.”

  The sound changed to a different tone, and Sam could just imagine the call now being transferred from the London HQ to Lora’s phone, via an array of satellites and microwave towers and through all sorts of security scramblers. It was a full minute before he heard the familiar voice say, “Sam?”

  “Lora, I’m … I’m on the road,” Sam said, wary, not wanting to give away too much detail over the phone. “I got separated from Tobias—he’s running a diversion back at the farm in Amarillo.”