“I saw the girl you left out in the hall,” I whispered. “That was really considerate of you. I know the whole superhero modus operandi is to simply knock bad guys out and move on. But concussions are a big problem nowadays, and do you get the feeling that these circus-bots are not exactly operating under their own will? So it hardly seems fair, even if they are trying to kill us, to leave them with permanent brain damage. I mean—”
I turned to look at Ryder to see if she was picking up what I was putting down. She didn’t say anything, but a tiny muscle flexed by her jaw.
Suddenly the evil clown’s voice screamed from below.
“Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen! I’m Pulcinella, and you’re in for a treat!” The rest of the performers stood at attention while he bounded across the stage. “As I am sure you have already noticed, the exits to your right and left have been locked tight, tight, tight!”
“What do you think their plan is?” I whispered.
Ryder turned her face towards mine slowly with something that looked like murder in her eyes.
“Right, we should probably just listen,” I agreed quickly. “Pulcinella seems to be one of those criminals you see in movies who gives away the entire plan. I thought the Sultana might do it back at the balloon, but she didn’t. I hate that in movies though. You’re watching thinking, just kill her already. You’re totally giving her time to think up a plan! And then you’re like, wait she’s not real, it’s the writers who—”
Ryder held up a single hand to my face then flexed her fingers into a claw.
“Right. Sorry,” I whispered. I really had to work on my nervous babbling.
“Now, may I present to you the most exotic, the most mysterious, the most beautiful of the Ottoman beauties! Delilah the Circassian Sultana!”
“I’ve been thinking,” I whispered, “If you wanted, I could introduce you like that.”
No answer.
“Okay, you’re right. Not cool.”
The Sultana’s musical voice called out next. “Welcome everyone! I am delighted to be here. Tonight’s show promises to be our most thrilling ever.” She sashayed her way to the front of the stage. “Now, I know you are all anxious to get started. I am too. But first a short delay. Please note our fascinating cast of entertainers is making their way through the aisles to visit with each and every one of you. If you would be so kind as to hand over any and all valuables, then, we can get started!” She placed a conspiratorial hand at the side of her mouth before adding, “You won’t want to miss the ending. We’re going out with a bang!”
A woman began shrieking, loudly. The other theatregoers looked at her, horrified. The sound quickly died in her throat. Jeez. Tough crowd.
“They have planted explosives,” Ryder said quietly. “There, there and there.” She pointed to the orchestra, the box seats, and the pillars at the back of the room.
“What? When?”
How did I keep missing these things?
“We have to stop this.”
Finally, she was acknowledging the we in this situation.
“Okay, what do we do?”
“To begin, I will need you to listen. Do not attempt anything on your own.”
“No problem.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously,” I said, holding her really terrifying eye contact. “No problem.”
Ryder’s eyes flicked from mine back to the scene below. “Delilah won’t have the detonator on her this time. She won’t take the chance. My guess is the bombs are set to a timer. She has most likely given herself enough time to escape with her crew, but not too much. I will need to get to the bombs and disarm each one individually.”
I nodded sharply. “Good plan. Tell me which wire to cut, and I’ll help.”
“That is not what I need you to be.”
I was getting a bad feeling about this. “Oookay, what do you need me to be?”
“A distraction.” And with that, Ryder pushed me, ever so gently, off the ledge.
Chapter Eighteen
I tumbled from the scaffolding, landing hard in a cart full of hay.
I blinked my eyes and gave my head a shake.
Okay, I could work with this plan. I was still alive…and I was helping.
I was also directly under the pointy end of the Sultana’s automatic weapon.
“We meet again,” she said smoothly.
“Hey,” I replied, carefully crab-walking my way out of the cart.
I glanced towards the glazed-over performers, bags full of loot, awaiting instruction at the front of the stage. Even the bearded lady stared out glassy-eyed. It made me kind of sad. His lipstick didn’t match his dress. I would have liked to have told him so.
“Aren’t you the pesky one?”
I looked back to my main adversary. She wore a black leather catsuit, much like mine…except hers had some self-respect. Her dark hair once again raged in a storm cloud above her head, but the front lay smooth, held back with tiny pin curls. To finish the look, a thin snake curled around her throat.
“What brings you here this evening?” she asked. “And in a mask no less?”
“Don’t you mean, My God! You’re alive!” I shouted. “You pushed me from a hot air balloon, remember? I should be dead!”
I flicked my gaze up to the rafters. Ryder had disappeared. I hoped she was working fast. This distraction thing was harder than it looked.
“I think your death would have made the news,” the Sultana answered.
Her words gave me an idea. Time to act on a hunch. “So tell me, how did my father react when he found out you almost killed me?”
A trace of concern crossed the Sultana’s face. “I take orders from no man.”
Her answer told me all I needed to know. Okay, maybe not all, but I was feeling pretty clever.
There was a connection between the Sultana and my father. She had recognized me right away at the bank, and it had made her nervous. Plus the circus crew was now under some sort of mind control, and that couldn’t be a coincidence given what my father was up to. But what was the link? My father was supposed to be fighting crime. How could he possibly benefit from lending his technology to the Sultana? It would be a public relations disaster. No, something more was going on here.
But I had to save my Sherlocking for later—I had bigger problems.
I peered past the stage lights anchored to the floor. I could barely make out Ryder. She was clinging to the first box seat working furiously away at the device mounted to the wall. How many more bombs had she said there were?
Suddenly Pulcinella bounded across the stage landing directly in front of me. “Why are you here? Why? Why? WHY?”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
“Can I kill her?” the very bad clown asked the Sultana. She seemed to be considering it.
I needed to do something fast.
Luckily, I had just the thing.
My secret weapon.
I whipped the device out from my back collar and smacked it on the floor.
“What is that?” Pulcinella screeched.
“Well, I will tell you…just as soon as I turn it on,” I said fumbling with the buttons.
The weapon was the width of a deck of cards, but three times as long.
I finally found the on switch and put my thumb on it. Then I took a chance and called out, “Hit the lights!”
Sure enough, the theatre suddenly went dark. Bless the lighting technician. It was heartening to know somebody had faith in me. I flicked the switch.
Music and pulsating lights blasted into the theatre from my small but mighty weapon.
“What is that?” Pulcinella screamed again.
“That my dear friend, is a DIY puke ray, courtesy of the internet,” I called out using a voice deep from my chest. “Disco Inferno is courtesy of me.” I had strapped my mini MP3 onto the back of my ray as a last minute thought. Music makes the moment.
“Turn it off!” the clown howled, grabbing the sides o
f his head. “I’m going to be sick!”
“You mean it works?” I yelled back over the music. I had hoped…but it was hard to believe. I peeked around to see it from their angle and instantly wished I hadn’t. I stumbled back clutching my stomach.
The second I felt better, I found my deep chest voice once again, planted my hands on my hips, and called out, “Ha-ha! Looks like the two of you have finally met your match!”
Pulcinella roared. Through the dizzying lightshow, I saw him stomp forward and raise one foot.
His over-sized shoe crashed down on my device.
Silence and darkness once again filled the room.
“Donna Summers would not be pleased,” I said softly.
I took a moment to mourn the loss. This device was never intended to be used against the likes of the Sultana. I figured Ryder would start me off with somebody easy…somebody like Mr. Flasher. That was who the device was for. Now, it would never know true greatness.
“Lights!” the Sultana ordered.
The house lights came up.
Et tu Lights Guy? I thought mournfully.
I looked desperately out past the stage. Hundreds of well-dressed onlookers stared back at me with a mixture of curiosity and horror.
Where was Ryder?
I was in serious trouble now. Would she risk sacrificing me once again to save everyone else?
The Sultana took a step towards me, gun still pointed at my face. I guess she really didn’t want to miss. Either that or her snake needed a better view.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Serious déjà vu washed over me. Why was this happening again? It was like some surreal recurrent nightmare. I hadn’t felt this way since I spent my twenty-first birthday repeatedly puking tequila on a prince’s yacht off the coast of Turkey. Who knew superheroing would involve so many guns and heights?
“It is your time.”
I opened one eye, a crack. The Sultana and her gun blocked most of the view, but, behind her, I spotted something move.
My eyes darted back to the demented woman’s face.
“This is where it ends,” she purred.
I squeezed my eyes shut again.
Ryder would save me. Ryder would save me.
Suddenly a clarion voice shattered the silence. “This is indeed where it ends Delilah!”
Yes!
My eyes flew back open just in time to see Ryder flying out of the darkness, limbs spread, like the most terrifying flying squirrel ever known to man.
Chapter Nineteen
“Yah!” I shouted as the Sultana went down.
Her gun slid across the floor in my direction. Nope. I wasn’t touching it. I had learned my lesson.
“Freaks! Attack!” Pulcinella screamed.
Ryder was attempting the same hog-tie she had used on the bot upstairs, but the Sultana was giving her a run for her money, and now the entire circus was tumbling its way across the stage.
The gun lay practically at my feet. I think it may have even called my name. But I was not going pick it up. I had made a promise to Ryder that I would not try anything without her express permission.
I was going to keep that promise.
I pinned my hands under my armpits and watched. Ryder was now spinning and leaping through the air, long limbs striking muscular circus performers everywhere I looked. She was a midnight blur of speed and power.
But the thrill of watching her quickly turned to fear. Any normal human would have given into the power behind her blows, but these were not normal humans. Every time a bot hit the ground, it would bounce back up again like a tricked-out zombie.
I glanced behind me for something, anything, to help.
What I saw was not helpful.
In fact it was really, really unhelpful.
A small light blinked from a device pinned to the wall with duct tape.
Another bomb! Ryder had missed one!
I spun back to see the Sultana striding across the floor towards the gun.
I went into mental hand-wringing mode.
What was I supposed to do? Ryder had said to do nothing—to let her handle every situation. But she couldn’t handle every situation! And the Sultana was getting closer and closer!
Gah!
I did the only thing I could. I jumped forward, grabbed the gun, and ran. Unfortunately, I ran directly towards the cast of opera singers. They took one look at me and started screaming.
“I’m a good guy!” I shouted.
It didn’t make a difference.
The singers dressed as peasants ran about like hysterical farm animals in a pen. Chaos descended. Pagliacci stood shouting in his deep operatic voice while the other singers pin-balled off some inert circus-bots. Their programming probably didn’t cover this scenario.
Through the flying straw, I could see Ryder fighting her way through the melee towards me. Aw, that was nice…maybe she was checking to see if I was okay. But where was the Sultana?
Oh crap! Ryder wasn’t checking on me. She was chasing the Sultana, now crouched right before me like a tiger in the weeds of mayhem.
Worse yet, I was so focused on tiger number one, I didn’t see tiger number two at my side. I turned just as Pulcinella launched himself into the air.
We tumbled to the floor.
“Give me the gun!” he screeched through clenched teeth.
I tightened my grip on the barrel. “Never!”
My mind worked furiously to figure out everyone’s endgame. Ryder probably thought she had disarmed all the bombs, so her goal must be to subdue the Sultana and bring her to justice. The Sultana, on the other hand, wouldn’t know that the bombs had been disarmed, so she would be desperate to get out of here—and Pulcinella probably thought they needed the gun to shoot their way back to the roof.
That left me.
I had to get to the other bomb.
“Give it to me!” Pulcinella shrieked, viciously tugging at the weapon. I went rag-doll limp, putting all of my strength into my hands. All the tugging shook an idea loose. It was so simple. I had to pull the ultimate girl move.
I kicked the clown in the nuts.
Pulcinella made a round shape with his mouth and hit the ground like a rock.
I jumped to my feet and sprinted offstage with the gun towards the blinking light.
It didn’t look like much, but I still took a steadying breath before lifting up its flap.
Underneath blinked a timer.
Five minutes.
Well, that was plenty of time for a clueless first-timer to disarm a bomb.
I spotted a tangle of red, yellow, and blue wires nestled below the blinking numbers. They looked easy to pull out. I considered yanking them all free at once, but that seemed reckless. I bit my lip. I could really use some help. I craned my head back.
Ryder, with circus-bots clutching at her limbs, was shouting at me and shaking her head back and forth in what looked like a distinct no gesture.
“What?” I screamed before I realized that Ryder didn’t even know what I was doing over here. She wasn’t going to be of any help. I turned back to the bomb.
This was no time for inaction.
Four minutes left.
I closed my eyes and wrapped my fingers around a wire…but I didn’t pull. Maybe I should give it another minute or two.
Suddenly someone grabbed my hair and yanked me back.
With me went the wire.
Pulcinella and I stumbled into the crowd. Luckily, the mad rumpus swept him away.
I quickly scurried back over to the bomb.
Thirty seconds. Uh oh. Wrong wire.
I started to run in the opposite direction. I had tried bravery. It hadn’t worked. Now I was going to try running away.
“Bremy!” Ryder shouted. It was the first time she had ever spoken my name.
Crap. I hurried back over to the bomb.
“What do I do?” I shouted.
Ryder tossed a fire-eater over her shoulder, but I could have sworn, as she did, I saw h
er mouth the word green.
Okay. Green. Green.
I looked back at the bomb. No green wire.
Twenty-five. Twenty-four.
I needed to do something fast.
Something caught the corner of my eye.
Twenty-one. Twenty.
I spotted a handle on the wall, above it, a sign marked garbage….in green letters.
That had to be what she meant—throw the bomb down the garbage chute!
I ripped the device from the wall.
Seven. Six. Five.
I yanked the handle on the chute.
Stuck.
I yanked harder and screamed, Wimbledon-style.
It gave!
I tossed the bomb into the slanted drawer…
Three. Two.
…and slammed in shut.
I covered my ears and spun on my heel to make a run for it. I didn’t get half a step before it blew.
I had never experienced anything like it.
The raw power of physics slammed into me. I catapulted off the ground launched by a push of air that bore the strength of a freight train turned pro wrestler.
I smacked the floor. Stunned.
I blinked my eyes open.
People screamed and stumbled over one another in a rainfall of dust and plaster, but I couldn’t hear them. I couldn’t hear anything but a painful high-pitched ringing.
I turned slowly to see what was happening on the stage. The Sultana was gone, so were Pulcinella and the circus-bots.
The dusty singers, however, were still there, huddled around something on the floor.
Ryder.
I scrambled over.
The superhero lay pinned under an enormous chandelier…and she looked pissed.
I immediately moved to push the chandelier off. It probably weighed more than the entire building.
“Lift, you idiots!” I screamed without being able to hear it. “She’s not The Phantom! She saved your lives!”
Together, we tilted the massive structure on its side. Ryder slid out.
We looked at each other.
Sidekick Page 13
