by Jeff Altabef
“Oh bloody hell. What’s that?”
“It’s a digital scale, but it seems to be connected to something.” I think back to all my late night NCIS marathons back at home and point to the jumble of wires that come out of the back of the scale and connect to a small brick of gray putty. “Plastic explosives.”
He shakes his head. “If the movies are right, that’s enough explosives to blow the entire building.” Using telekinesis, he rips the duct tape from Sydney’s face.
She shifts on her feet, favoring her right ankle. Her wild eyes threaten to burst from her head, and her voice trembles. “Thank God you’re here. They said if I move the bomb will... explode.”
“Who did this?” I ask, although I’m sure it’s Deltites.
“Who do you think?” Sydney’s natural smugness fights through her anxiety.
I inspect the bomb while Connor rips the duct tape from her wrists.
“Is there anyone else in the building?” I ask.
“No. Stuart emptied the building when you guys showed up. He told all the guests we had a gas leak.”
“What did the Deltites want?” I turn in a circle. Nothing seems out of place: piles of paperbacks are neatly stacked, a file cabinet looks locked, and the desk looks clean and undisturbed.
“Did Stuart hide anything he might have brought with him from Alpha?” Connor asks. “A tablet, perhaps?”
Sydney clutches her hips and glares at us. “Thanks guys! I’m standing on a bomb and all you care about is some junk Stuart brought from Alpha.”
“So, he did bring some stuff.” Connor smiles. “If you tell us where he hid it, we’d stop being so distracted and can focus all of our attention on your situation.”
Sydney huffs and points to the corner of the room. “There’s a loose floorboard under his desk. He hid a bag filled with crap underneath. Hurry up! My ankle hurts.”
Connor moves toward the corner of the room, and Sydney scowls at me while I sort through the wires connecting the scale to the plastic explosive.
“Can you disarm it?” She shifts her weight and winces. “I think my ankle’s broken. I can’t stay like this for much longer.”
I know the basics about bombs and electronics from my recent date with the encyclopedias, but I have no idea what to do with this. “One of these wires probably leads to the battery. If we disconnect the right one the bomb should disarm, but there’s eight possible choices, and I don’t like those odds.”
“Figures.” Sydney glances toward the door. “Where’s Troy? He’d probably know what to do.”
Connor moves next to me, the leather satchel he retrieved from Stuart’s hiding spot looped over his shoulder.
“He’s with the others back at the Underground.”
Sydney’s face turns ashen.
My heart starts to beat so fast it hurts. “What happened? What did the Deltites want if they weren’t interested in Stuart’s stuff?”
Sydney’s voice raises an octave in pitch. “They wanted to know where you were hiding.”
Connor grumbles. “You didn’t tell them about the Underground, did you?”
“I had no choice. They were going to kill me.”
I grab my phone. “How long ago did they leave?”
“Five minutes.”
I dial Troy’s number, but it goes directly to voice mail.
There’s no signal in the Underground.
Juliet
I’m standing on top of Devil’s Peak back home and see nothing but darkness. Even the lights from the nearby town are gone. My toes dangle over the edge and the wind tugs at me. I stretch my arms wide, lean forward and tip over. My body plummets into the void with no way of knowing what I’m going to crash into, but I’m sure it’ll hurt.
“How many Deltites are we talking about?” Connor snaps me back to reality as he shifts the satchel on his shoulder. He’s thinking about running back to the Underground before it’s too late. I can see it in his tight jaw and the bunched muscles in his back.
“Four.” Sydney trembles. “I can’t stand on this ankle much longer. You’ve got to help me!”
I’ve been punched in the gut. There’s no way Troy, Blake, and Akari can handle four Deltites without our help even if they knew the Deltites were coming.
I want to scream, but Sydney groans and her face scrunches in pain. She brought Troy and the others to the Boathouse and risked her life to save us. As much as I don’t want to admit it, without her we’d already be dead. We owe her.
I grab Connor’s arm. “We need to save Sydney first and then help the others.”
Connor studies the scale. “It reads 125 pounds.”
Sydney scowls at him. “The damn thing is broken. It’s at least ten pounds too high.”
“Really?” I say.
Connor frowns. “We’re not pulling one of the bloody wires and hoping for the best, that’s for sure.”
“No, but if we can keep the pressure consistent when Sydney steps off, it shouldn’t trigger the bomb.”
Connor brushes sweat plastered hair from his eyes. “I can use telekinesis and keep the weight steady. When she’s clear, I’ll back away until I’m outside. You can wait for me on the other side of the street.”
He’s better at telekinesis than I am, so he should be the one to keep the pressure on the scale, but if he thinks I’m leaving him, he’s crazy. “I’ll stay with you and generate a force field to shield you. That way we’ll have a chance if the bomb blows early.”
He’s about to object, but I turn toward Sydney and cut him off. “Okay, on the count of three you slowly step off the scale.”
She nods.
“Are you sure you’re not really 125 pounds?” asks Connor. “It might be important.”
She frowns. “Okay, maybe I gained a few pounds over the last week because of the stress. Shoot me!”
He can’t quite hide the amusement from his voice. “Just checking.” He stares at the bomb and his eyes glow violet. “I’m ready when you are.”
I start the countdown. “One, two....” Sydney shifts forward. “Three.”
She hobbles off the scale. The digital number slips to 123 and then 122 but the minor fluctuation isn’t enough to set it off—otherwise Sydney would have been dead already.
Connor’s sweating.
I exhale and grab the duffel. “Go ahead, Sydney, and leave the doors open for us. We’ll be right behind you.”
She limps away, whimpering with each step, and I generate a force field—a bluish energy disc between us and the bomb. I have no idea how effective it will be.
“I probably should have thought about this sooner, but I don’t think I can hold the connection if I can’t see the scale,” says Connor.
“Come on. We’ll worry about that when we get there.” I pull on his shirt, and we slowly back out of the apartment.
When we’re in the lobby, he starts to shake. “That’s as far as I can go. You should take off. I’ll be right behind you.”
“We go together.”
I yank his arm, spin him around, and we race from the Inn. A heartbeat later we cross the street and join Sydney, who’s ducking behind a car.
Nothing happens.
Connor grins. “I guess it’s a dud.”
The Inn explodes. The ground shakes, glass shatters, and chunks of stone hurl toward us. I re-create the energy disc just in time for a sink to clang off it. Flames lick the side of the building, and a gaping, smoldering hole exists where Stuart’s apartment had been.
“Some dud,” I say.
The heat from the fire burns my face, but I’m not worried about the fire. I turn and start sprinting.
Connor is at my heels, and we’re moving so fast the streetlights have tails.
We stop when we reach the manhole cover, which is askew, and see a black SUV parked across the street that wasn’t there when we left.
We’re too late.
Powerful energy flows up from the Underground.
My eyes narrow; I g
rab my sword and rip open the cover with my mind, flinging it down the street like a Frisbee.
Connor tosses Stuart’s satchel in the bushes and pulls out his own sword. “So what’s the plan?”
“We rush them and kill every Deltite we find.”
“I like it. Not a lot of finesse, but it works for me.”
Juliet
My plan sucks, but we don’t have time to make a better one and there’s only one way in. My stomach twists just thinking about what they might be doing to Troy and the others because I didn’t stay behind to protect them—because I wanted to act alone.
I slide down the ladder, my feet skipping over the rungs, barely touching the metal.
Connor lands next to me with a thud.
“Me first!” he shouts as he dashes forward, shoves the door open, and charges ahead.
I’m a step behind, and when we plunge inside the Underground, we skid to a stop.
Troy, Akari, and Blake are penned behind the bar. A snarling energy creature that resembles a leopard is perched on top of it, with double rows of sharp teeth, saliva pouring out of its mouth. Spikes run down its spine, and it sports a cluster of razor-sharp needles on the end of a flat tale.
Blake stands a step behind Troy and Akari, his face ghost-like.
Akari grinds her jaw, rocking back and forth, studying the energy beast—no doubt hoping for an opening to attack.
A new red welt spoils Troy’s face below his left eye.
Two tall, thin Deltites armed with swords stand next to the leopard creature. The crystal hilts of Akari and Blake’s weapons litter the floor by the Deltites’ feet.
I can generate my own creature to attack the nasty nightmare-inducing leopard. It might even beat it, but what good would that do? The others would be helpless against the Deltites without their swords anyway.
“Run!” shouts Troy.
The door slams shut.
A voice to my left chuckles and says, “I don’t think so.”
Two other Deltites, both armed with swords and confident grins, stand close to the now shut door. They’re hard to tell apart. They might be brothers. Both wear black sweatpants, and their bulging arms are clearly visible through their plain, long-sleeved, black T-shirts. Their fair skin makes their arrogant faces contrast with their dark clothes. The one who laughed wears a crystal pendant around his chest.
I assume he’s in charge.
“Bloody hell.” Connor whips around toward them, sword held out front.
Crystal Pendant waves his arm and throws Connor across the room using telekinesis.
Connor hits the far wall hard, head first, and his sword clatters to the ground. He moans and clutches the top of his head. Blood slicks his fingers and splatters against the floor.
I wave my sword at Crystal Pendant. “How about you and I settle this... alone.” My only chance is to trick him into a combat of champions. If I beat him, maybe we can get out of here alive; maybe I can still protect the others.
He grins. “You must be Juliet Wildfire Stone. My name is Jared. You have the power to save your friends, although fighting me will only hasten your death and theirs.”
“That’s what Gagarin thought.” I add as much confidence in my voice as I can muster. “You don’t look any different from him.”
Jared twirls his sword with blinding speed and transforms the blade into a propeller, a ball of energy.
How do I fight that?
His voice drips with arrogance. “He was poorly trained. I, on the other hand, am not.”
I glance toward Akari and Blake.
“Don’t try to link with them. We will know, and my pet will rip their hearts out before you gain their strength.”
I lower my sword. “If you don’t want to fight, what do you want?”
“I want so many things, Juliet Wildfire Stone, yet I will settle for you.” He points the tip of his blade toward Troy, Akari, and Blake. “Come with us peacefully and your friends will live. Resist... and everyone dies quite painfully.”
“No!” shouts Connor as he stumbles to his feet toward me, but he’s instantly raised in the air and pinned against the ceiling.
The leopard thing growls and snaps its jaws. I don’t need to look to know that Troy tried to help and the creature almost bit his head off.
“Okay, okay, don’t harm them. I’ll come with you.” I drop my sword and raise my hands over my head before Troy or any of the others do something else desperate that will get them killed.
Jared tosses our swords into the trunk and then pushes me into the back of the black SUV. I’m sandwiched between him and the Deltite who looks like his brother. The other two sit in the front.
I’m helpless.
The SUV pulls away from the curb, and I turn toward Jared. “Why didn’t you just kill me in the Underground? Why take me with you?”
He looks and sounds bored. “If it were up to me, I would have chopped off your head in that dank cellar and been done with you.”
“But it’s not up to you.” A small spark of hope flutters in my chest. “The Prime Elector must have other ideas.”
“Yes, yes he does.”
We travel in silence for a few minutes until the SUV pulls into a deserted parking lot behind an abandoned warehouse.
Jared bores his eyes into mine. “Listen closely, Juliet Wildfire Stone. I will only say this once. The Prime Elector wishes to meet you. In three days time you will find him in the center of the maze at the Hampton Court Palace in England. He will be waiting for you at noon. You will come alone or we will kill you and all your friends. If you don’t come—”
“Let me guess. We all die.”
He smirks and nods. “You are not as dumb as you seem. Good.” He glances at the other Deltite beside me. “Bring her inside the building.”
The other guy grabs my arm and pulls me from the backseat. The abandoned building looks dark and ominous. I don’t want to go in there with them, so I struggle, but the Deltite has me firmly by the arms and pulls me to the building. He’s too strong for me.
“What’s going on! Where are you taking me?”
Jared laughs. “We’re not quite done with you.”
I’m half dragged, half lifted into the abandoned building. When we’re inside, another Deltite joins the one who’s restraining me. Each clasps one arm, and they hold me still. I strain against them, but it’s no use—they’ve locked me in a vice.
Jared stands in front of me holding what looks like a helmet made from gray plastic, with six evenly placed crystal discs embedded in it. He lets go and the helmet-thing hovers in front of me.
“This will record your brainwaves on a disc for us.” He pulls a palm-sized crystal from his pocket.
“What... will you do with my brainwaves?” My eyes lock onto the helmet like a laser. I don’t want that thing on my head.
He flips the crystal in the air. It rotates slowly and hovers before my face. “With this disc we’ll be able to track you, so we will know where you are at all times.” He chuckles, which sounds like nails scratching against a backboard. “It has other uses too, but you... don’t need to know about them now. If you behave and do as the Prime Elector wishes, you may never know. That would probably be for the best. For you, at least.”
“And if I don’t do what he wants?”
“You will regret that choice.” The helmet contraption floats toward me. “Don’t struggle. One way or another, we will get what we want. Struggling will only prolong things. The whole process shouldn’t take long without your interference, and should be painless.”
He’s serious and there’s nothing I can do that will stop them. If I try to use telekinesis they will easily over power me, so I straighten my back and stand rigid. The plastic device slips on top of my head, molds to my skull, and the crystals start to warm.
At first the sensation is not unpleasant, but the crystals continue to heat, and hot needles pierce my skull. My brain feels as if it’s being ripped apart.
I scre
am, and would have fallen to my knees without the support of the Deltites holding me upright. The pain is more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. I can’t breathe.
“That’s odd. You never can tell with these humans.” Jared steps close and sounds perplexed.
He says something else, but he sounds far away now and I’m still screaming. I try to yank the helmet from my head, but they hold my arms down by my sides.
I see nothing but blinding white light, and then blackness.
I fall into the nothingness, grateful that the pain goes away.
Juliet
Sicheii stands beside me, a wry grin on his wrinkled face, his white hair pulled back in a low ponytail. An emerald linen shirt fits comfortably over his broad shoulders, tucked into a pair of jeans, and his favorite straw, wide-brimmed hat tilts to one side on his head. A hawk feather stuck into the hat’s band flutters in the breeze.
I spin in a lazy circle and it takes me a moment to realize where we are. The night sky is dark, with only a half moon and a smattering of stars to brighten our surroundings. A small creek bubbles off to our left.
My blood runs cold. “We’re at the cemetery in town?”
Sicheii shrugs and glances around us. “Could be. It’s hard to tell. I never liked the cemetery. I find the whole process wasteful. Spirits don’t stay buried in the ground. They move on.”
“Why are we here?”
He starts to walk. “You summoned me. You picked this place.”
I summoned him?
We thread our way among the tombstones and the few cacti that dot this part of the cemetery. Tears form in the corners of my eyes. “You must be buried here. I’m so sorry I didn’t come to the funeral.”
“Death is nothing to fear, Little Bird.” He smiles at me. “We are only on this planet for a short time. We spend the rest in the Spirit World. That’s where true life happens.”
He takes long looping strides, so I have to hurry to keep up with him. “I’m not scared of death.” It’s true. I don’t want to die, but death doesn’t frighten me.
He pauses and his gray eyes sparkle. “I know that, Little Bird, but you do have fears. Fear is a river of our own creation. We must know the origin to manage the currents.”
