Hide things in plain sight.
He had done that often enough to foil his mother, and it sometimes worked. It would have to work with Charlotte’s faux dad, who was gun-shy and would never search her room. Perhaps the housekeeper also had instructions to keep out. Brendan confirmed he was still alone and then went through the basket. Underneath the pile of laundry there was a bag with a single strap, buckles, and side pouches.
Inside he found a collection of circuits and other parts, some neatly placed in antistatic bags. At least now he had parts for anything that was broken on her glove. He shook his head in disbelief at the number of refined electronics components she had made by hand.
Charlotte’s a one-girl dimensional-glove-building machine.
He suppressed the idea he could somehow finish the glove and test it. She would have to be consulted. Otherwise he would be as negligent as she or her father. But he could at least effect enough of a repair to give her a head start once he returned the glove.
“You’ve found something,” Sperry said.
“Let me guess. The housekeepers stay out of this room and she does her own laundry.”
“Those were her instructions. I have your phone charger.”
“Thanks. Now can you take me to school?”
***
Sperry stayed on the phone during the brief drive, speaking with Brendan’s and Tina’s counselors and telling them that their missing students were accounted for. Then in an act of skillful delegation, he had a counselor do the rest of the legwork in calling the dorm monitors for both Tina and Brendan. Tina’s counselor was to be directed to the hospital.
Several students paused to greet Sperry as he walked with Brendan to the electronics lab. The headmaster was a model of graciousness and remembered each student’s name. When they entered the lab a pair of kids were working at a bench on a wiring project. Sperry spoke with them in a soft apologetic tone and they packed up and left. Brendan plugged in his phone at his workstation and opened his project drawer.
“It would be the height of negligence to allow you to go back,” Sperry said. “You’re clearly worn out. I don’t know what trauma you’ve suffered, but I insist that you get checked out by a physician. I’m going to summon the security guards who have some idea of the nature of what we’re dealing with here. I have contacts in law enforcement as well as the military. We can bring people here who will have the equipment to handle the situation.”
“I appreciate the offer. But nothing you tell them will get them ready for the warlords and what they can do. It has to be seen to be believed. They’ve murdered law enforcement personnel. They’ve taken down helicopters.”
Sperry waited without comment as Brendan took out the broken glove along with all the parts. He had stared at all the components enough to recognize the basics. Much of this would be guesswork, but his guesses felt right. Chip by chip, he took what he could from the broken glove and filled in what was missing from her bag of components. He wanted to test every connection with his meter. No time. He turned it on. At least the LED worked. Once it powered down he packed everything up.
Brendan then collected his last drone and assembled it. It was ready to go in moments. How he wished for another batch of the military drones Charlotte had acquired. He packed as many tools and components as he could shove inside a large tote bag.
“Please let me know how you think you and your toy will make a difference.”
“It might not. I know my chances are slim, but if I can make it to Charlotte and get her free, she might have a clue on what to do next.”
“I suppose it would be crass to have you detained for your own safety.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s the risk I’m willing to take. It’s my choice.”
“Let me at least send someone to help you. A responsible adult with a weapon.”
“Look, Mr. Appleton, I appreciate the offer, but another cop or some thug with a gun will just irritate these people. I have a better chance on my own. We may have time before they set their sights on our world. From what I’m gathering, the warlords take years living in each world before deciding to move on. I don’t know if this just means they become acclimated and lose some of their strength, but I think they’ll worry about conquering Charlotte’s world before they look to move on.”
“Unless the upstream effect compounds, giving them even more strength as they progress down the chain of Earths. Why would they stop at one world when they could continue on to another that is easily available to them? What happens if they find the open gate in the park?”
Brendan didn’t want to think about it. “I don’t know.” He looked at his phone, more to end the conversation than to really check it. The headmaster received a text.
“Hmm,” Sperry said. “It appears you have a visitor. Your father is waiting for you at my temporary office.”
Brendan’s stomach sank. How or why would his father be here? Had he heard of his absence and come directly to the school? Another possibility crossed his mind. Someone had murdered the scientist in the admin building basement and used the machine. What if it had been Not-Earth’s Myron Reece, his father’s double?
“Call security,” Brendan said.
Sperry hesitated, but when Brendan explained the murder and his suspicions, Sperry nodded and made the call. He told security to be nearby but not to engage.
“I’m going to see him,” Brendan said. “I’ll know if it’s my father.”
“I’ll be at your side. But again, this seems reckless. If he wants the ring it will put it within his reach.”
“I don’t think that will be an issue. Now that the gate machine is off, he’s stuck here. Anyway, I need to make sure it’s not my dad before your men try to do anything.”
They walked across campus to the humanities building. Leaning in the shade of the front entrance was Brendan’s father…or not his father. Brendan couldn’t tell just by looking. Myron Reece wore a zipped-down black windbreaker and jeans. He had dark sunglasses on, and his face had a heavy shadow of stubble. A gold chain necklace was looped around his neck.
Tina had suggested code phrases once they considered the possibility of doubles traipsing about between worlds. Now, as he approached Myron, Brendan wished he hadn’t dismissed the idea.
They shared a brief embrace. Myron then looked Brendan over top to bottom. “What happened to you? You’re a mess. Don’t tell me you were skateboarding again.”
“Some of the guys had a football game early this morning. It got a little rough.”
“A little? You look like you had the tar beaten out of you, but I guess as long as there’s no broken bones, it’s all good. So I got a message that you weren’t back at your dorm and they were wondering if I had come by and picked you up. Naturally I was worried so I headed over. I got the follow-up message a little while ago that you’re present and accounted for. What happened?”
“I was out late a couple of nights. I lost track of time. I’m fine.”
Myron brushed the hair from Brendan’s face back. “That’s a good lump on your head. Also, football? Since when? Between that and your broken wrist, you’re taking a lot of lumps lately. Besides, I thought you weren’t into sports.”
“You’re not around enough to know that.”
Myron held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Hey now, I come in peace. I’m happy you’re okay, but I worry you’re going to start getting into trouble.”
Brendan nodded and looked at his dad. The clothes. His grooming. Everything looked as it should. “Thanks for worrying about me, I guess. But I’m fine.”
Myron nodded, clearly not convinced. “I won’t pry. Your business is your business.”
“Dad, you remember what you brought me?”
“Yeah?”
“What was it?”
“This some sort of test? You talking about that ring you thought was so important?”
Relief washed over him.
“Yeah, that. That was a big help. So you drove
here?”
Myron nodded, unfazed by the switching of subjects. “Yeah. I’m still in Vegas, so it’s close. Hey, I was thinking once you get washed up, let’s do something. Show me the sights of what there is to see here. At least let me see this school of yours. Getting to rub shoulders with tomorrow’s movers and shakers. After that we can get a bite to eat.”
Of all the days for him to make himself available…
“Dad, today I can’t.”
His dad nodded. “I know, you’ve got a lot going on. My visit was unexpected. I’m sure we still have some makeup work to do between us.”
“It’s not that. I’ve just got some things I have to take care of. Someone’s counting on me to follow through. Let me call you later. Maybe we can get together next weekend.”
“Sure, son. I’d like that. So this is one of your teachers?”
Sperry Appleton was standing at a polite distance with a pleasant smile on his face.
“This is Mr. Appleton, the school headmaster.”
Myron and Sperry shook hands. “Nice to meet you face to face,” Myron said.
“A pleasure. We’ve enjoyed having Brendan here as one of our students. My apologies for not keeping better track of him. It was an oversight on our part, and we hope we didn’t cause you alarm.”
“No problem. It was a bit of a concern hearing he hadn’t come back to the dorm, but I guess these things happen from time to time.”
“We try to strike a balance in granting our students liberty while also maintaining proper degrees of oversight and security. We have upperclassmen as chaperones, a buddy system, and security personnel, but occasionally a student will miss his bed check. When we cannot immediately find the student, we take all steps to demonstrate due diligence, including contacting the parents. Apparently, Mr. Garza’s phone had also gone dead.”
“Well, better this than something bad.” He gave Brendan a one-armed hug. “Just no more disappearing acts, okay?”
Sperry and Brendan saw Myron to his black Camaro and watched him drive off.
“That’s my dad,” Brendan said.
“If we return to my home, you can wash up and at least clean your wounds and get some fresh clothes. Some food, perhaps, with more to take with you.”
“No. Take me to the park. I’ve got everything I need, and I don’t want any more delays. If you want to do more, check on Tina. But I’ve got to go.”
20. Roustabout
Back on the broken streets of Not-Earth, Brendan headed towards campus. Several distant muffled pops echoed through the air. If this were a normal morning on a world not occupied by the warlords, he would have guessed the sounds were mufflers backfiring or stacks of lumber being dropped. But now all he could think of was gunfire. The warlords were in town, and someone was shooting. He paused to get a bearing on the sound but the echoes gave way to silence.
He walked faster.
As he crossed the boulevard towards campus, he heard more gunshots, four or five in rapid succession. He took cover behind a double-parked car. Several people were running in his direction. Panic was on their faces.
One woman rushed just past him. “What’s going on?” Brendan asked, but she kept going. The others ran off too, leaving him alone. Again the campus was quiet. The damaged buildings of the school’s skyline looked like broken teeth.
Brendan made his way to the back of the admin building. A few more people ran past with their heads down. He found an older student taking cover by a large planter.
“Tell me what’s happening.”
“Some guy and girl on a motorcycle are over by the student restaurant. They were attacking the one cop and the security guards. I think they killed someone.”
“Who’s shooting?”
The boy just shook his head. Brendan recognized this was a normal reaction, a healthy one. He headed to the corner and looked across campus. There was little to see. Dust covered much of the grass and walkways, giving the campus the appearance of a moonscape. Near the restaurant he saw someone on the ground wearing the white shirt of campus security.
He heard someone further across campus shouting, but the words were indistinct. Brendan moved to the restaurant. He checked the downed guard. Out cold. The man’s jaw looked out of alignment and blood seeped from his nose and mouth. He still had a pulse.
The shouting was louder now, coming from somewhere beyond the science building and in the direction of the gym. Brendan kept to the sides of the building and stayed low as he advanced.
“Send out someone else, or we come in and take out two,” a man was shouting.
A man clad in biker leathers and wearing a blue bandana stood balanced on the corner of the athletics building. A motorcycle was parked on the grass beneath him. A teacher Brendan recognized came out through the front door of the gym. He was holding a white pillowcase and waving it. Two more bodies lay on the ground by the gym.
“We surrender,” the teacher shouted. “There are kids in here that are hurt. This is a hospital now.”
“Pick up the gun,” the warlord shouted.
One of the bodies had something in its hand.
“No. We don’t want any more violence. Please tell me what you want. My name’s—”
A loud report thundered and echoed off the buildings. The man went to his knees, holding his side. A second shot rang out and he fell.
Who is shooting? Brendan didn’t want to waste his drone here. It was hardly as agile or quiet as the military drones Charlotte had procured. But he couldn’t watch and do nothing. He removed the drone from his pack and sent it flying.
“That was horrible!” the warlord shouted. “Next contestant! I’m counting from ten. When I reach one, I’m coming in there and dragging out the first two people I see, and I don’t care what condition they’re in. Ten—”
Brendan piloted the drone above the rooftop and behind the man. He paused to hover. The video link on his phone came in spurts a second long, a major contrast to the smooth feed the little black drones provided.
But it was enough.
The warlord had an ear full of piercings like a gold sheet of chainmail. Brendan pivoted the drone. On the far side of the athletics building, he saw a woman sitting on top of a police car turned on its side. She had a wild mane of blonde hair and a short black rifle in her lap. In one hand she held a bottle. She took a swallow and gave a cheer.
“A new contestant!” the warlord shouted.
Brendan saw Helen come out of the gym, her arm still in the sling. She went straight to the teacher and checked him.
“Pick up the gun.”
She picked up what looked like a black automatic pistol. With a steady hand, she examined it.
“You get your first shot free. Who will it be? The lioness down there with the rifle or yours truly?”
“Nice of you to give me a choice,” Helen said. “Donnie wasn’t much for conversation.”
“Ha. You know Donnie? If you know him, then you know he doesn’t ever shut up.”
“He does now. We killed him. Ivar sent him and me and some others to secure something for him. You hurt me or anyone else here, and you’ll answer to Ivar.”
The warlord thought about it for a moment. Then he laughed. “Well. I guess if Ivar were here he wouldn’t like what’s going to happen next. Now take your shot.”
Helen looked down towards the blonde woman and up again at the warlord. Brendan saw the blonde put down her bottle and bring up the rifle. She was taking aim.
He sent the drone down in a fast dive towards the blonde. The camera shook, and from its blurry image it looked like the woman had tumbled off the car.
In one smooth motion, Helen raised the pistol and fired. The warlord on the roof flinched and staggered back. She kept firing, assuming a spread-legged stance as she emptied the weapon even as the warlord vanished from sight. Brendan flew his drone straight up as fast as it would go. The blonde had recovered and she raised her rifle towards the drone. She let out a burst of automatic fi
re into the air, not bothering to aim. She missed, and now the rifle was empty. The drone turned until Brendan got a clear view of the warlord on the rooftop. The man was tottering towards the far side of the building, one hand on his side.
More gunshots erupted from in front of the gym. Helen must have found more ammunition. She was taking carefully aimed shots in the direction of the blonde. Brendan brought the drone around. The blonde took cover behind the cop car.
The warlord and the woman shouted to one another. Brendan pivoted the drone between them to see what each was doing. The warlord climbed down the side of the building and dropped into some bushes and out of sight. The woman was moving towards the gym. She had dropped her rifle.
Brendan ran forward. “Helen, she’s coming!”
Helen was again out of ammo. She broke from cover and went to one of the bodies. It was a Dutchman Springs police officer. She took a fresh magazine from his belt and slid it into the bottom of her pistol. Even with the slung arm, she had little problem loading it.
“Where’s the other guy?” Helen called.
“Far side of the building. He’s off the roof.”
The blonde warlord paused at the corner of the gym. Helen took aim.
“We’re going to strip the flesh from your bones,” the woman said.
“Looks like you’re set to murder everyone no matter what we do.”
The woman grinned. It was a savage expression. Its owner had lost her humanity long ago.
“Keep your gun,” the blonde said. “There’s easier prey to be had. We’ll be back for you later.” She considered the motorcycle but it would mean coming closer, and Helen kept her weapon trained. The woman ducked behind the corner of the gym, and Brendan could hear her footsteps running away.
The Supervillain High Boxed Set: Books One - Three of the Supervillain High Series Page 60
