"Why do you think?" said Olenka. "Because I'm worried about you two."
"But we're fine," said E.Q.
"The two of you shouldn't be doing this alone." Olenka turned her big, dark eyes to the burning building. "I have a bad feeling about this place."
E.Q. walked the hose a few yards to one side for a better angle on the ground floor window. "Well, don't," he said. "We've got it under control."
"Hey!" Max had just walked around the corner of the building and spotted Olenka with E.Q. "You're just in time, Olenka! We could use another pair of hands!"
"Three fires in three weeks," said Olenka. "Somebody's pretty persistent."
"Well, I'm a hundred times as persistent putting 'em out," said Max. "A million times."
"No one inside?" said E.Q.
Max shook his head. "Mary Anne's car's gone, so I figured she was out."
"I have a bad feeling, Max," said Olenka. "Maybe you should stay away from this place."
Max narrowed his eyes at her. "Has someone been talking to you?" he said.
"Just the usual," said Olenka. "Everyone wants Mary Anne out of town. They think if you'd just let the place burn down, she'd leave."
"And that's why you want me to stay away?" said Max.
Olenka sneered. "Of course not. That makes me want you to stay here." Her sneer melted into a troubled frown. "But like I said, I've got a feeling."
Max lifted off his fire helmet and wiped his grimy forehead with his sleeve. "Well, you know I trust your feelings, Olenka..."
"As well you should," she said.
"...but I'm going to be living here for a while."
It was Olenka's turn to narrow her eyes. "What do you mean by 'living here'?"
"I'll stay here day and night," said Max. "The next time they try to burn the place down, I'll stop them. I'll catch them, and that'll be the end of it."
Olenka sighed. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"
"Sure I did." Max grinned and put his helmet back on. "Maybe your bad feeling applies to the bad guys because I'm going to get them."
Olenka shook her head and stared at him. The two of them locked eyes for a long moment, while E.Q. watched them both.
Finally, Olenka broke away. "All right, fine," she said, and then she turned and headed back to the car. "Just let me pack a few things."
"Thanks, sweetheart," said Max. "I appreciate your saving me a trip to get my stuff."
"Who said anything about your things?" said Olenka. "I'm packing my things."
"What?" said Max. "Why?"
"I won't leave you out here alone," said Olenka.
"I won't be," said Max. "E.Q. will stay here with me."
"And so will I," said Olenka. "End of discussion."
E.Q.'s jaw dropped open. In less than five minutes, his father and mother had announced that they were coming to live at the Magic Castle...and so was he.
As if he wasn't already the biggest laughingstock in town next to his father and Mary Anne.
"This will be nice," Olenka shouted back over her shoulder as she kept walking away. "A family outing. Like a camping trip."
A passing pickup truck blared its horn, and someone screamed out the window: "Burn the freak!"
E.Q. just kept spraying water on the fire. "Some family outing," he said.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Johnstown, Pennsylvania, 2006
"I loved him," said Paisley. "I loved Grogan Salt."
Celeste stared at her without saying a word. So did everyone else in the living room. Even Pretzel was quiet.
Paisley sighed. "There. I said it. The secret's out. I loved him."
"Wow." Baron shook his head. "What were you thinking?"
"It was love, Baron." Paisley spread her arms wide. "I wasn't thinking anything."
"After all he did to us," said Baron.
"I've got a thing for bad boys." Paisley shrugged. "And I never thought he'd really hurt any of you. The things he did...he made them seem like practical jokes."
"Practical jokes?" said Celeste. "He almost killed Cary, Paisley."
Paisley shook her head. "He wasn't going to kill him. He told me that."
"So, what?" Baron walked toward her, swerving around E.Q., who had stopped trying to push him out the front door. "You helped him with his dirty work? You told him our secrets?"
Paisley grimaced and touched her belly as if the baby had given her a sudden pain. She lowered herself onto the arm of the sofa. "Yes, I did."
Celeste stared down at her with arms folded over her chest. The knot in her own stomach was growing tighter with each passing moment.
None of what her sister was saying seemed possible. So much of her life had been a mystery to Celeste--the pregnancy, the imprisonment, the panic attacks--but she never would have dreamed that Paisley had been in love with Grogan and betrayed the Nuclear Family to him.
She didn't want to hear about it. She wanted to turn back the clock and stop Paisley from talking about it before she started.
This was something Celeste wanted to forget.
"I knew it." Baron smacked a fist into his palm. "Grogan almost always knew what we were going to do before we did it. I knew someone was ratting us out...but I didn't want to believe it. I kept thinking, why would one of us do that to the others?"
"I swear...I didn't think anyone...would get hurt," said Paisley. "At least at first." She grimaced and gripped her belly again, hissing in breath between clenched teeth.
E.Q. went to her and touched her shoulder. "Are you all right? Can I get you anything?"
Paisley shook her head. "I'm having another...attack." She sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a series of quick puffs.
Baron didn't seem to notice or care that she was having a problem. "So when did you finally figure out that someone might get hurt? Was it before or after you helped Grogan set the house on fire?"
"We didn't...set the house on fire," said Paisley. Just as she started to say something else, the latest wave of panic crested over her, transforming her words into a cry of pain.
That was when E.Q. dropped the bomb.
"That's right," he said, stroking Paisley's wild black hair as she rocked on the arm of the sofa. "They didn't do it. They didn't start the fire.
"But I know who did."
*****
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Johnstown, Pennsylvania, 1977
Just as Cary reached for the knob on the kids' bedroom door, the door flew inward...and he jumped backward in surprise.
Paisley stood there, in the doorway, her wide eyes blinking back at him.
"What's going on?" She craned her neck to look down the hall at the smoke and flames.
Cary grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hallway. "Run!" he said. "Go out the front door!"
Paisley looked worried. "But that's on fire down there."
"Go left as soon as you get to the bottom of the stairs," said Cary. "That's what Grogan did, and he made it out."
Suddenly, Paisley's expression shifted. In a heartbeat, she went from looking worried to looking confused and upset. "What?" She looked at the open door of Grogan's bedroom. "You mean he's gone?"
In that instant, Cary caught a whiff of the truth. He wouldn't figure it all out until later, when he had time and wasn't worried about saving his family's lives...but he got a whiff of it then and there.
Paisley didn't hate Grogan like the rest of them did.
"Yeah." Cary pointed toward the stairs. "He ran out the door."
Paisley looked at the stairs, then looked at Grogan's room. "He ran?"
"We don't have time for this!" Cary grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her toward the stairs. "Get out of here now!"
Paisley hesitated, then started down the hallway.
Cary didn't wait for her to make it downstairs and out the door before he turned and plunged into the bedroom he shared with the other kids.
As Cary shot through the doorway, Baron
was in the middle of a coughing fit. The door had only been open a few minutes, and already the room was clouded with smoke.
As Cary ran to him, Baron rolled over on his side and slid a leg over the edge of the cot. Reaching out with both hands, Cary took hold of Baron's arm and helped him swing himself up to a seated position.
The coughing died down just long enough for Baron to force out a few raspy words. "What's going on?" Then, he burst into another fit.
"Fire!" Cary walked backward, pulling Baron by the arm. "Run!"
Baron got to his feet and stumbled toward the door...then stopped. "Celeste," he said, taking a step toward her bed.
Then, he doubled over with a coughing jag that made the first few seem like mild throat-clearings.
When the worst of the coughing had subsided, Cary pulled him out of the room. "Just go! I'll wake her up!"
Once he set foot in the hall, Baron was transfixed by the sight of the fire roaring away downstairs. "Oh my God!" he said between coughs.
"Go out the front door!" said Cary. "Grogan and Paisley went that way. Stay close to the wall."
Coughing like he was about to choke up an ankle, Baron nodded. Cary didn't hang around to make sure he did as he was told.
Zipping back into the bedroom, he went straight for Celeste. "Wake up!" He shook her by the shoulder, then shook her again. "Celeste, you have to wake up!"
Celeste didn't move.
Cary shook her again and hollered in her ear, but she stayed still and silent. She wouldn't wake up.
Putting his face by her open mouth, he felt her breath on his cheek. She was still alive, at least...but she wouldn't be for long if he didn't get her out of there.
Cary ran to the door, looking for Baron, but he was already gone. The front door downstairs slammed shut, meaning Baron had just made it outside.
That also meant it was up to Cary alone to save Celeste.
Only The Hurry can come to the rescue this time! Don't miss this pulse-pounding solo adventure of the Nuclear Family's own human sonic boom!
Cary sprinted back into the bedroom and flung the blankets and sheet off Celeste. He slid one arm under her back and one arm under her bottom, then braced himself.
And lifted.
She was bigger than he was, and her body was heavy. He dropped her on the bed.
Taking a deep breath, he shifted his grip and tried again.
The Hurry moves fast enough that he can literally be in dozens of places at the same time! When his multiple selves work together, he becomes, in effect, the strongest man alive!
This time, Cary lifted her from the bed.
Her long, blonde hair flowed over his left arm, and her bare legs hung over his right. He took a moment to adjust to the new weight in his arms, then slowly turned and headed for the door.
As he trudged down the hallway, his arms buckled under the burden of his sister's body. The smoke thickened around him, making him want to cough, and it hurt when he held it back.
He stopped at the top of the stairs, gazing down into the flames that raged below. It looked like Hell, or a hellish planet, or an erupting volcano, or some other fiery setting into which The Hurry might dash on any given super-heroic day.
Now, if only the Starbeam Ring would give him The Hurry's super-speed powers in time to get through it.
Though Grogan, Paisley, and Baron had all followed a clear path to the front door, Cary wondered if the path still existed. He thought the flames looked closer to the bottom of the stairs than they ever had before.
Clenching his teeth, he lowered his bare foot to the first stair.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Puerto Peñasco, Mexico, 2006
Drill's hands were locked together and cranked back high over his shoulder. Pinned in the sand beneath him, Cary steeled himself for the blow that was about to crash down on him.
He knew it was going to hurt like hell. He also knew it would only be the start of the very special beating he was about to receive.
Cary gulped in a deep breath and clamped his eyes shut, waiting for the pain.
Then, suddenly, two new weights jumped onto his back. Two bodies, scrambling and jostling, kicking him in the head, but not hard enough to hurt.
Two people, nowhere near as huge and heavy as Drill. Two little people, throwing themselves between Drill's sledgehammer fists and Cary.
Two children with very familiar voices.
"Stop it!" screamed Glo. "Leave him alone!"
Late screamed just as loud. "Get off him!"
Moments ago, the kids had seen Cary's face under the ski mask. Now, they were fighting to save him.
Cary had come all the way to Mexico to rescue them, and instead, they'd ended up having to rescue him.
"Get the fuck outta here!" Drill sounded angry and overtaxed. From the amount of bucking and kicking that was going on, Cary guessed the kids were putting up a pretty good fight.
"No!" said Glo. "You get out!"
"Leave us alone!" said Late.
"That's enough!" Suddenly, Drill's weight lifted off Cary's back. "Get off!"
Another, lighter weight lifted away, and then another. Cary rolled over just in time to see Drill throw Glo and Late in two different directions.
Both kids cried out as they hit the sand. Glo fell just short of the burning clothesline pole cross; with a little more heat in his pitch, Drill would have tossed her right into it.
"Now get in the house!" Drill shook his fists at the kids. "Don't make me kick your asses!"
While Drill was occupied with Glo and Late, Cary scrambled to his feet and grabbed the aluminum-framed lawn chair he'd thought of using as a weapon earlier.
It didn't turn out to be much of a weapon. As Drill stomped toward him, Cary swung the chair at him. Drill just batted it away without missing a step.
Cary tried to sprint away from him, but Drill grabbed him by the arm and flung him to the sand. Before Cary could make another move, Drill had kicked him so hard in the back that he screamed like a maniac.
"What the fuck is your problem?" said Drill, just before he landed another kick in almost the same spot. "You got a fuckin' death wish?"
Before he could drive in a third kick, the kids swarmed him again. Each of them grabbed one leg and held on tight.
"Fuck!" Drill bent over and tried to pry off Glo, but she wouldn't let go. Leaning to the other side, he had the same luck prying off Late. "Crystal! Get these fuckin' kids of yours off me!"
Taking advantage of the kids' distraction, Cary started getting to his feet again. That was when the surprise kick from behind caught him in the back.
He went down face first in the sand.
As he tried to roll over, another kick blasted into his gut. Through a haze of tears, he saw Crystal glaring down at him, pulling back her leg for another swing.
"Fuckin' Cary!" The wind whipped her long, black hair across her face. "I can't believe you followed me here!"
As Crystal lashed her foot forward for the next kick, Cary grabbed hold of it with both hands. Crystal tried to jolt her leg free, but he wouldn't release it.
Not till she gave it an extra big tug, anyway.
That was when he let go with both hands at once, and Crystal toppled over backward.
As soon as Crystal went down, Cary leaped to his feet and whirled to face Drill...only to find Drill's hands lunging for his throat.
Drill still had a kid attached to each leg, but he'd managed to maneuver close enough to Cary to latch onto him. Snarling, he squeezed his hands more tightly into Cary's flesh, leaving little doubt in Cary's mind as to when he would stop.
He won't stop till I'm dead.
As Drill's hands continued to tighten, Cary couldn't breathe. He felt light-headed, and his legs began to buckle underneath him.
Blood pounded in his ears, and sparks flickered in his eyes. As if from a distance, he watched his hands scrabble feebly at Drill's face...but Drill didn't blink.
He just k
ept strangling Cary.
"Stop it!" shrieked Glo.
Cary felt himself weakening. For the trillionth time, he wished that he could turn into The Hurry and solve all his problems faster than the human eye could follow.
I've never needed my super-powers more.
But the burst of hyper-speed never came. Drill's hands tightened, the kids kept shrieking, and Cary faded away like the trail of a firework hanging in the Fourth of July night sky.
I'm sorry.
"Die, motherfucker!" said Drill...or was that Grogan?
You're d-d-dead, asshole! He remembered Grogan saying it...or was that Drill?
And then, Cary's eyes fluttered shut.
*****
Chapter Forty - Cresson, Pennsylvania, 1958
"Cut it out!" Those were E.Q.'s first words as his eyes fluttered open.
And fluttered shut again. And back open when his father, Max, kept shaking his shoulder.
"Wakey wakey," said Max. "Up and at 'em, tiger."
Irritated, E.Q. brushed aside Max's hand and sat up straight on the back seat of the Chevy. Through the windows of the car, he saw stars winking in the night sky above the Magic Castle.
At which point, he had the same reaction he always had when he woke up in the Magic Castle's parking lot: a feeling of overwhelming disappointment.
I hate this.
"Chop chop," said Max, clapping his hands. "Time for your shift."
E.Q. slid over the seat and got out of the car. Once he was standing in the gravel lot, he rubbed his eyes and yawned.
"All's quiet," said Max. "We had hardly any rubberneckers tonight. Folks must finally be getting bored with us after six days."
Six days.
For the past six days, just as Max had promised, the family had watched over the Magic Castle greenhouse. The plan had been a success, because the Magic Castle hadn't caught fire even once in the past six days.
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