Zeke Bartholomew
Page 12
“Good. Because I told Kyle I’d be back.”
She cocked her head. “What do you mean you told him you’d be back?”
“Well, I didn’t tell him, tell him. I threw a screw at him, and I think he saw me and got the picture.”
“So you’re telling me that he clearly acknowledged you.”
“Yes.”
“The prisoner that they’re guarding and probably have cameras on at all times.”
“Yes.”
“You’re telling me he looked directly at where you were lying.”
“Yes, why are you…oh, no…”
The second my stupidity registered, the metal enclosure around us erupted in a cascade of sparks and fire. Red laser beams cut through every inch of the metal tubing, miraculously missing us by millimeters at most.
I screamed. Who wouldn’t? Laser holes poked every inch around us, cutting through the metal like it was paper.
“Come on!” Sparrow yelled.
I crawled behind her, covering my head, but trying to avoid the lasers in a small, enclosed tube was like trying to avoid getting wet in the shower. I felt them slice through my clothes, felt them singe my eyebrows.
We tried to make it to Sparrow’s side of the tunnel, but then there was an awful lurching sensation, and the entire duct system around us broke free, fell through the air, and down to the ground.
The wind was knocked out of me, and the smell of smoke and gunfire made my dad’s barbecue seem appetizing. I coughed and hacked and tried to open my eyes through the dust.
Then, finally, I opened my eyes. And what I saw in front of me made my head spin. I knew why I had recognized those voices from before.
Standing over us, with strange-looking rifles pointed directly in our faces, was the singing duo of Penny Bowers and Jimmy Peppers.
7:34 p.m.
Twenty-six minutes until…whoa, that’s less than half the time of my afternoon algebra class. I’m starting to get kind of worried here…
I hate your music,” I said to the two pop singing sensations, who, for reasons that boggled my mind, were aiming battery-powered laser rifles directly at my brain. My dad had always told me I use only half of my brain sometimes. Jimmy and Penny looked like they were ready to get rid of the unused half.
The two singers didn’t flinch. Hey, they’d probably heard that before, likely in much harsher language.
Just as surprising as the fact that these two crooners were here was that they were both wearing their trademarked Penny Bowers and Jimmy Peppers outfits. Bubble gum to the max. Kids around the world bought their merchandise with more enthusiasm than if it were a guide to tomorrow’s homework. Why were these kids here, and why were they wearing their outfits? They just didn’t seem all that conducive to terrorist activities. Not that I was the terrorist fashion police or anything.
“Stand up,” said Jimmy.
“Both of you,” said Penny.
“Wow, even when threatening to kill people, you two are in perfect sync,” I said.
We stood up. I untied my backpack from my ankle. It was immediately confiscated by Jimmy. As if I needed any more reasons to dislike him.
I had to admire their firepower. The rifle barrels were long and sleek, and there appeared to be a battery charger attached at the base that powered the lasers. There were five green light panels running atop the rifle, but only three of them were lit. I noticed Jimmy flick a switch, and two more panels went dark.
Interesting.
My guess was that each gun had five panels worth of power. The more light panels were on, the more powerful the blast. As if confirming my thoughts, Penny switched the power on hers from three to one. My guess was that three-panel blasts were what had torn up the elevator and air ducts. One panel was probably enough to kill. I shuddered to think how powerful a five-panel blast might be.
Pretty cool technology. If you wanted to take over the world. Or destroy it.
“Penny and Jimmy,” Sparrow said. “These are those singers you were telling me about.”
“That’s right. They’re responsible for rotting billions of brain cells around the world.”
“Stop talking,” Jimmy said.
“Both of you,” Penny added.
“It’s like you share the same brain,” I said.
“March,” Jimmy said, prodding me in the back with the barrel of his gun.
“You too,” Penny said, doing the same to Sparrow.
“Okay, you’re really starting to freak me out,” I said.
They pushed us forward. We were in a large, open space with ceilings about twenty feet high, metallic walls, and what felt like a titanium floor. It was incredibly hot down here. I imagined we had to be near the reactor that my HeatSeeker 4000 had picked up.
“He wants to meet you,” Jimmy said.
“He’s very impressed by you,” Penny added.
“‘He’ wouldn’t happen to have a sandwich, would he?” I said. “Because my stomach is ready to eat itself.”
They pushed us forward toward a closed doorway. Jimmy pulled the gun from my back and went to go type in a security code.
“Zeke?” Sparrow said.
“Yeah?” I replied.
“Silence,” Penny said.
“Quiet,” Jimmy added.
“Duck!” Sparrow yelled.
I did so immediately, and suddenly there was a whirlwind of action behind me. I heard a bunch of thunks and pows, and suddenly both Jimmy and Penny were on the ground.
“Run!” Sparrow yelled.
I reached down and yanked my backpack from Jimmy’s grasp and then followed Sparrow’s sprint back the way we came.
We ran by the wreckage of the air duct and through an open door at the other end of the chamber.
The room was filled with dozens of pumping pistons and gears, and it was hotter than my dad is when I come home from school after having forgotten to do last night’s geometry homework.
There was one particularly massive machine in the center of the room, surrounded by a metal railing. I looked down. The railing was guarding against a hole so deep and vast I couldn’t see the bottom.
“This is it,” I said. “This is the reactor. This is what’s powering SirEebro.”
“We need to find a way out. We need to destroy SirEebro.”
We sprinted around the outside of the room, looking for something, anything, a way to get free. There was nothing. No rooms. No doors. Only the huge pit underneath the main reactor.
We were trapped.
“Sparrow,” I said, “what do we do?”
“I don’t—”
Before she could answer, I heard a noise above us. I looked up just in time to see an enormous shape come crashing down onto the floor right in front of the reactor.
It was Ragnarok. And he looked mighty peeved.
I turned to run, but a nanosecond later five huge fingers were around my throat, literally lifting me off the ground. I couldn’t breathe. All the blood was draining out of me.
Gack was the only sound I could muster.
“Come out,” the massive molten giant said, “or I snap your friend’s neck like a twig.”
Sparrow’s head peeked around the corner. Her eyes went wide when she saw us. I couldn’t get free. I mouthed one word to Sparrow.
Run.
She was the only one who could save the world. I had to sacrifice myself for her.
She shook her head, stepped out of the shadows, and walked directly up to the immense man. She looked up at him, blinked, then hawked up a big loogie and spat it directly onto his visor.
Ragnarok smiled. He placed my feet on the ground, but his fingers were still wrapped around my windpipe. They loosened just enough to allow air into my lungs.
r /> Then his other hand shot out and grabbed Sparrow by the neck, and he began dragging us back toward the other room.
“I told you to run,” I gasped out.
“I’m not leaving you,” Sparrow said, wriggling in the giant’s grasp.
I didn’t know what to say. I would have done the same for her. But I didn’t know what good it would do everybody else who was at risk.
Ragnarok dragged us through the other room. To my surprise, Jimmy and Penny were gone. Guess Sparrow hadn’t knocked them totally out.
Still holding my neck, he used one finger to press several keys on a code pad. The door in front of us opened, and he took us into one of the most incredible rooms I’ve ever seen in my life.
There was a mammoth screen in front of us that had to be at least fifty feet high and a hundred feet across. Various antennae and projectors were stationed all around the perimeter. Video screens lined the walls, showcasing live scenes from around the globe. China. India. Brazil. Australia. Africa. London. Dozens of desks and modules littered the floor. And in front of the enormous screen was a large cube with blinking lights and dials and wires that looked light-years beyond anything I could have ever dreamed of making.
“SirEebro,” I said.
There was a whoosh of air, and the cube opened in front of us. The two halves separated, revealing a man sitting inside. He stood up. Turned around. And walked toward us.
He was bald, completely hairless, and held a cane in his right hand. He wore a purple outfit, skintight, with black seams crisscrossing his body. His nose was hook sharp, and a thin beard ran from his sideburns down his jaw, over his lip, and under his chin. And there was a small, furry animal perched on his shoulder. It had beady eyes and sharp teeth and seemed to like me as much as its master.
He walked right up to us and nodded at Ragnarok.
“Mr. Bartholomew. Ms. Sparrow. I am Le Carré. And this here is Higgins.”
“Higgins?” I said. “What is he?”
“Mr. Higgins is a marmot,” Le Carré answered.
“Hey there, little Higgins!” I said, approaching the oversized rodent. Higgins gnashed his teeth, and I leaped back a split second before my fingers ended up in his fuzzy belly.
“Really, Zeke?” Sparrow said.
“Sorry. He looked friendly.”
Le Carré pressed a button on his lapel and said, “Bring in Mr. Quint.”
Seconds later another door opened, and Kyle was brought through. At his back were Penny Bowers and Jimmy Peppers, holding rifles. I was really, really starting to hate those two kids.
“Zeke!” Kyle said when he saw me. He ran forward and gave me a monster hug. Funny, since my throat was still in Ragnarok’s clutches.
“Kyle,” I choked out. “I can’t breathe.”
He let go. Then Kyle kicked me in the shin.
“That’s for leaving before.”
I cried out in pain but couldn’t even bend over to rub my ankle.
“I said I’d be back!” I told him.
“Zeke,” Kyle said. “What the heck is going on? Where are we?”
“You are about to witness one of the greatest moments in the history of mankind,” Le Carré said. “Throughout the ages, tyrants have come and gone. Men have tried to bend the masses to their will, only to fall short. I will succeed where they have failed.”
Ragnarok let go of Sparrow and me, and I took a moment to catch my breath. I had a feeling those massive paw prints would leave a mark. If I ever made it out of there alive, people would ask what I had been doing being mauled by a gorilla.
“This device, SirEebro, is about to broadcast the most powerful message in the history of civilization,” Le Carré said.
“I don’t know. I’ve heard their music. Personally, I think dog poop is slightly more important.”
Le Carré laughed. He didn’t seem fazed by the insult. Nor did he seem like the kind of person who listened to Top 40 radio.
“As you know, the message isn’t the music. It’s what’s behind the music.”
“I think I saw that special on MTV at three in the morning.”
“I’m glad you can still laugh,” Le Carré said. “I can assure you that in about ten minutes the only person who will be laughing is me, and I’ll be laughing for a very long time.”
“I have one question,” I said.
“Please. Your questions are inconsequential at this time.”
“So we figured out your plan. You’re going to use SirEebro to broadcast a hidden signal within the new PB&J single that will zombify everyone who hears it. Hundreds of millions of people will be under your control.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Le Carré said.
“Yeah, although ‘amazing’ is not the word that first comes to mind. But Penny and Jimmy are booked on every television show from the moment the single airs. Each show will rebroadcast the music. Anyone who misses the debut will still be brainwashed.”
“That’s the idea. And you’re underestimating, Ezekiel. Billions will be under my control.”
“Right. Billions. But if they’re supposed to be on live television in just a few minutes…what the heck are they doing here?”
Le Carré thumbed his lip. Penny and Jimmy kept their laser rifles trained on us, one green panel lit on each gun.
“I suppose it can’t harm you to know the truth,” he said. Le Carré pressed another button, and an image came on-screen. I gasped when I saw it. It was a live feed from what looked like the dressing room at a talk show. There was a food platter, water bottles, and a famous talk show host I recognized sitting on a couch.
And sitting next to him, laughing like they’d just heard the world’s funniest joke…were Jimmy Peppers and Penny Bowers.
“How…” Sparrow said, “how is that possible?”
Le Carré pressed one more button. A door on the far side of the room slid open. And if my jaw could have hit my shoes, it would have, because suddenly dozens of Jimmy Pepperses and Penny Bowerses marched into the room, each of them carrying their own laser rifle.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I said.
The lined up in front of Le Carré, at least ten rows, at least a hundred of them.
“Penny Bowers and Jimmy Peppers are robots?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“State of the art, manufactured under my specific plans. Once the message goes out, millions and billions of people will follow these robots to take over every piece of our world. Media. Government. Television. The Internet. People will follow Penny and Jimmy to the end of the earth and bring about its end until I am supreme master of all that remains.”
“You’re a sick, twisted man,” Sparrow said.
“History is made by such men,” Le Carré said. “The future is claimed by men like me.”
Ragnarok stood there, and darned if I didn’t see a smile under that freaky visor of his.
“In ten minutes the broadcast will go out, and my army will be there to lead. Nothing can stop them. Nothing can stop me. And you will be witnesses.”
“You’re forgetting something,” I said.
“Oh? Is that so?” Le Carré asked, amused.
“When your goons picked me up, they needed the access codes to SirEebro from SNURP. Without those codes, SirEebro is just a tin can. You can’t broadcast without those codes.”
Le Carré put his hand to his head and feigned being stunned. “Oh, my dear boy, you’re right. How will I ever be able to broadcast without those codes that my men foolishly thought you possessed?”
“That’s what I’m asking, you tyrannical doofus.”
“It’s because I have the codes, Mr. Bartholomew.”
“How? You couldn’t have gotten them in such a short amount of time,” Sparrow replied angrily.
“Y
ou’ve forgotten the key to my whole plan,” he said.
Sparrow spat, “And what key is that?”
Suddenly another voice said, “Me.”
We both turned around. My blood ran cold. I knew that voice.
Standing next to Ragnarok, as though he’d appeared out of nowhere, was Derek Lance.
7:51 p.m.
Okay, you get the picture. We’re running out of time. I always liked these ticking clock things in movies, but I feel like my heart is about to explode. Why did I agree to do this again? Maybe it would be more fun to be a brainwashed zombie kid. Like, I’d never care about homework again. Then again, I’d never care about anything again. Even my dad. Okay, bad idea, let’s try and stop these creeps. We’ve only got nine minutes to save the world…
You,” I said.
“Hello, Sparrow,” Derek said, stepping forward and embracing her. She wriggled out of his grasp. “Come on, don’t be like that. You and I got along so well in training. Now you don’t want to say hello?”
He was wearing an impeccable dark suit, a red tie, and his mirrored sunglasses hid his evil eyes. For a diabolical madman, Derek Lance sure could dress.
“We got along before I knew you were a coward and a traitor who sold your soul to the devil,” she said.
“My soul is pretty much intact, but this sale did increase my bank account substantially,” Derek said. He winked at Le Carré, who smiled. “Now, babe, we have front-row seats to the beginning of the end, and a new beginning. Why don’t you come here, sit on my lap, and we’ll watch together. Like we used to.”
I looked at Sparrow. “You and him?”
“My first girlfriend,” Derek said. “You don’t get to meet too many girls when you’re a spy. Thankfully Sparrow and I were training at SNURP at the same time. I think she’d admit I helped her through some tough times. Did she tell you her real name? It’s—”
“Say one more word,” Sparrow said, her eyes gleaming with fire, “and I will come wring your neck, and I don’t care what happens next.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie, your secret is safe with me.” Derek looked at me. “My former classmate. Zeke Bartholomew. The amateur.”