The sound of rapid fire filled the air like a muffled burst of firecrackers.
“Hit!” I heard it shouted more than once, along with excited screams and voices shouting directions to one another. The voices were raised to be heard above the ambient ruckus of explosions and futuristic laser blasts. Then something moved on the floor below, just to the right of one of the walls. I took aim and squeezed the trigger. No one yelled “Hit!” and more movement flitted around the floor below. I shot as fast as I could squeeze the trigger, not really aiming, just raining down paintballs as fast and furiously as I could. When I stopped to reload, the sniveling, mocking voice of Eric Feldman rose up from below.
“Missed me, Curse.”
I had just refilled my ammo when something the size of my fist landed beside me. I picked it up and squeezed it. It was like a squishy mass of plastic that seemed to be getting harder and harder in my hand. Sweat rolled into my eyes, and it took a couple blinks before I recognized the shape of the object as a plastic grenade.
Toys? I thought. They’re throwing toys at me so that I…what? Run away thinking it’s a real grenade? I squeezed the grenade again; it was rock hard now. I held it up, thinking I might as well send it back over the edge, but just as I was about to toss it over, it exploded… Well, it didn’t so much as explode as it popped. Like a water balloon, only somehow pressurized. In a blink, I was covered in yellow paint. I used the back of my hand to wipe the plastic face shield and looked around. I immediately recognized Eric and Rodney climbing up from either end of the gangway.
“Paint grenade,” Eric said triumphantly. He looked at Rodney. “Did you hear him yell ‘hit’?”
Rodney shook his head. “Maybe he’s not hit yet.”
In the two or three seconds it took for me to realize what was happening and to formulate the thought to yell “Hit!” Eric and Rodney must’ve unloaded fifty paintballs at me. It felt like something between a hornet’s sting and being stuck naked in a hail storm. When the word finally came out of my mouth in a shriek of desperation, the two jerks turned and ran away, laughing.
I limped back down the metal staircase and back to our end zone, where my team was celebrating with laughter and high fives.
“You got their flag?” I croaked.
They turned, and all excitement drained from their faces.
“Dean?” Lisa asked. “Is that you?”
“What happened?” Colin said.
“Rodney and Eric,” I said.
“Did they bring paint brushes or something?” Colin started laughing, as did everyone else. I was in far too much pain to laugh at myself.
Dyson walked up and nodded knowingly. “Looks like the third-generation GPM-12 paint grenade. Those are single-use and pretty expensive.” He looked me up and down. “Pretty effective.”
“Did they shoot you too?” Colin asked.
I shrugged. “Um, yeah. I think I was hit a couple times.” I turned back to the team. “At least we got their flag.”
“Oh, we got it all right,” Rylee said as more high fives were exchanged. “Colin’s strategy worked perfectly.” Colin bowed.
“Good,” I said. “If I’m going to get painted up like this, we better at least win.”
“Round two begins in thirty seconds,” Dyson said.
I rolled my shoulders and tried to block out the stinging pain. “Round two. Good. Time for some payback.”
Colin called the play again. This time he let me stay back and guard the flag with Rylee. All we had to do was hunker down behind a wooden crate and pick off anyone who got close to the flag.
“Thanks again for inviting me, Dean,” Rylee said as she hunkered down beside me once the game was underway. “I’m glad I came. I meant to ask if you were okay. Last time I saw you, museum security was dragging you away.”
“Yeah,” I said without hesitating. “I’m fine. It’s all sorted out.”
“Good.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than a yellow splatter of paint covered her face mask. “Hit!” she yelled. I flattened behind the crate while she stood up, lifted her gun over her head, and walked over to the safe zone.
I lifted my gun and fired off a couple shots in the direction the blasts had come from. Then a yellow blast hit the ammo container on my gun and knocked it off. I managed two more shots until I started shooting blanks. My paint balls had scattered all over the ground, and I was about to reach for one when Eric stepped into our end zone, his MP5 leveled at his shoulder. He fired a couple shots that struck a few inches in front of my feet and then laughed.
“You again?” he said. “We were hoping for Colin or Lisa this time.”
We, I thought. Where’s Rodney? My question was answered a second later when my coveralls were pulled from behind and something round and rubbery was shoved down my back, against my bare skin.
Chapter 29
To be fair, when the grenade popped, it really didn’t hurt. It just felt like a water balloon popping. Still, I yelled “Hit!” right away so I couldn’t be shot, and I stood uncomfortably as paint oozed down my back, into my pants, and down my legs. It was disgusting, and I wondered if any of my clothes were salvageable.
There were three more rounds after that, and in the end Eric and Rodney’s team won three, while we only won twice. By the time we finished, Colin had gotten peppered with so many paintballs that he was as yellow as I was, although I was probably more yellow underneath the coveralls. Eric and Rodney were like a pair of super soldiers, picking off anyone and everyone.
“Guns down,” Dyson barked. Everyone did as they were told and pointed the barrels of their weapons to the floor. “Good battle,” he said. “We get a lot of people who want to pretend to be commandos for a day, and none of them have been as good as you guys.”
I was pretty sure it was something he said to everyone who came for a round of paintball, or at least every group of kids, but I pretended it wasn’t. Even though we had only won twice, Colin beamed, and I couldn’t help but smile too. For someone who had only played once before, he did amazingly well as a leader. I almost laughed. He wasn’t going to let me—or anyone else, for that matter—forget his hand in the victories. Who would have thought that he’d be able to translate all those hours of online game play into real life?
Eric and Rodney looked smugly at me from a couple feet away. I wanted revenge for what they’d done out there, but I wasn’t a match for them. They had experience, but more importantly, they had all the toys. Eric’s family was so rich that we’d never have a fair fight.
I looked back toward Colin and was about to congratulate him again when the red and yellow blotches of paint on everyone’s coveralls suddenly turned gray. I blinked. I wondered if it was a trick of the light, or something to do with everyone being dressed in camouflage. I even thought that maybe I’d taken a blast in the eyes from those darn lasers.
So when Sok suddenly stepped up out of nowhere, wearing some kind of dark turtleneck and black pants, and looked at me with hollow eyes, I wondered when he had joined the game and how my mom had managed to track him down to invite him in the first place. Then his head tilted and his eyes and mouth widened. But I was ready. I recognized what was happening and braced myself for the scream. And it came with a vengeance. Only it wasn’t from Sok; it was from my right. I spun around and found myself face to face with the twisted expressions of not one, but two of the security guards from the museum. Instinctively, I brought my arms up to shield myself, and my finger clenched around the trigger of the gun. There were two quick bursts, then some screams, then the vision of Sok shrieked and I jumped again, sending a new burst of paintballs into the crowd.
“Gun down, gun down!” Dyson screamed.
I took a couple slow breaths to compose myself as I started to see colors again, and then I turned to the group. “I’m sorry,” I said, lowering the barrel. “It was an accident. I thought I…um…I just got scared,” I finally said. I hung the gun at my side and took in the carnage. My carnage. To my surpris
e, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be. Most of the people must’ve hit the deck right away, and after a couple seconds almost everyone started to laugh.
There were, however, a few people who bore fresh spatters of red paint. Rylee was rubbing a red spot on her thigh.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
She shrugged, then smiled and shook her head.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” Eric’s sniveling voice said from a few feet away. I turned, hoping that he’d have a nice red burst right between his eyes, but he didn’t seem to be in pain at all. He had a bunch of paint splatters on his coveralls, but those were from the actual game. Rodney, on the other hand, was on the ground, sniffling and clutching the side of his face. Red paint oozed through his fingers.
“Oh, man, Rodney,” I said, “I’m sorry about that.”
“Relax,” Dyson said, “it happens at least once a day.” He looked around the room. “It’s just paint, people. Unless you’ve been shot in the eye or something, just shake it off. It’s not like Dean did it on purpose. Sometimes the adrenaline from the game makes you kind of twitchy. Let’s just keep your finger off the trigger, okay?”
I nodded, and then felt suddenly ill. The weight of what had just happened settled on me. Two guards were going to die…and this time I was sure Sok was also going to die. Why did that kid have to keep putting himself in danger? I glanced at my watch: 10:47 p.m. “What are you planning, Sok?” I muttered. “Why can’t you just leave it alone?”
“Now he’s talking to himself,” Eric said.
I gave my head a shake and glared at Eric. I wished I’d had enough sense to point the gun at him when the vision had startled me.
“Just you wait, Curse,” Eric continued. “You have no idea what we’re going to do to you, but it’s going to—” Two quick bursts of compressed gas erupted from the crowd, and Eric’s eyes widened as a gasp escaped his suddenly gaping mouth. A fresh splash of red paint stained his chest, and there was a yellow spatter of paint on his crotch. He dropped to his knees and then fell over whimpering. Lisa smiled and handed a gun she must’ve borrowed back to the girl beside her. At the same time, Colin turned around and ducked to the back of the group. Everyone was laughing, and I was just impressed that both of them had had the same thought at the same time.
“And that’s the end of the game, kids,” Dyson said quickly. “Turn in your guns to Tank and put your coveralls on the table by the stairs, then out you go.” He gestured to the illuminated exit sign at the top of the metal staircase. “Come again.”
Chapter 30
My mom was waiting in the lobby when we got there, and after a brief, startled glance at my painted clothing, she was all smiles. She’d done this for me, and I knew she had meant well. I forced a grin, which really wasn’t easy considering I was in physical pain, covered in paint, and trying desperately to work out exactly how we were going to save Sok and the security guards…AGAIN.
Everyone thanked my mom and me for the fun evening. Eric and Rodney wandered into the lobby after everyone else was gone. Eric was limping, and Rodney was still holding his neck, but the two of them put on their most innocent faces and thanked my mom too, adding that they couldn’t wait for the next time I could hang out with them. I resisted the urge to slug Eric, relying instead on the memory of him getting shot in the groin to brighten my mood. My mom beamed.
“Ten forty-seven,” I muttered to Lisa and Colin while we walked to the parking lot. “Sok and two guards.”
Colin cursed under his breath. “What is that stupid monk doing?”
“I told you we should have tried harder to find him,” Lisa said.
We rode the rest of the way answering questions from my mom and raving about how much fun it was. Colin took the lead and told how he’d managed to guide the team to two victories. He left out the part about how that had only happened because Eric and Rodney were trying harder to attack us than they were trying to win.
***
The next morning I woke up to an email from Lisa telling me to come over. After breakfast, and some teasing from Becky for still having a few spots of yellow paint on my skin, I said good-bye to my parents and ran to Lisa’s place.
Lisa’s house was small, one-story, and green, which was funny because her last name was Green. Both her parents did shift work, and usually we didn’t hang out at her place because one of them was always sleeping. On that particular Saturday, Lisa was home alone, and Colin was already there.
“You really need to get a new cell phone,” Colin said. “We’ve been waiting an hour for you to get over here.”
I checked my watch. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning. You’ve been here since seven? Since when do you ever get up before noon on a weekend?”
“I would have come at six if I thought Lisa had been awake. We have to figure out what we’re doing about this,” Colin said. “We’ve already left a message for Archer to meet us in the park at nine o’clock, or as soon as he can, but if he’s still not around, we don’t really have a lot of options.” He was trying to keep his voice steady, but I could hear the panic.
Lisa shook her head. “I already told him we just need to go to the museum again. It’ll be better this time. We’ll call the police sooner.”
“And I told her,” Colin said angrily, “that it barely worked last time, and we almost didn’t make it out of there. Something she would have known if she had been there.”
Lisa’s face flushed, and she opened her mouth to speak, only to clamp it shut again.
“Look, guys, there’s no point in fighting. Lisa did the right thing by not coming that night, and Colin, you know it. We all could have been in a lot more trouble if she’d snuck out and gotten caught.” Colin looked down at his shoes, and I hesitated just long enough for a breath before I spoke again. “You already called Archer, so let’s just go to the park and see if he’s there.”
“And if he’s not?” Lisa asked.
“If he’s not, then we’ll think of a plan on our own. But I think he’ll be there. In fact, I’m sure he’ll be there. C’mon, let’s go.”
***
Nine o’clock came and went, and Archer didn’t show. At eleven o’clock, we called Archer again and left another message. By noon, we’d come to the conclusion that he wasn’t in town and we were on our own.
“He should’ve given you a number for the others in the Society,” Colin said. “How can he expect us to rely on just him when he’s running around saving the people in his own visions?”
Lisa sighed and looked at me. “So what do you think we should do?”
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” I said. “We tried to stop Sok last time, and all it did was delay him. If we manage to stop him again, there’s no guarantee he won’t try again in the next museum.”
“And?” Colin asked.
“And what if it’s in Budapest or something, and I get a vision that he’s got twenty-four hours to live? There’s not a whole lot I’ll be able to do to stop it, that’s what.”
Colin nodded. “Then what? You think we should actually turn him in? Get him arrested?”
“We can’t do that, Dean,” Lisa said firmly. “He’s not a typical thief. He’s just trying to get something back that rightfully belongs to his ancestral village. He’s not a criminal.”
Colin rolled his eyes. “Better he’s locked up than dead. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Stop it!” I said. “Just stop.” Their eyes widened at the sternness of my tone. “We need to work together on this. Besides, I have a plan.”
“To turn them in?” Colin asked.
“No,” I answered. “I think you’re right. He doesn’t deserve jail time.”
“But you were right too,” Lisa said. “He might try again somewhere you can’t intervene. Then he’ll be dead. And Colin has a point that being locked up is a lot better than being dead. I mean, he doesn’t deserve to go to jail, but it’s a better option than death.” Colin grinned and gave Lisa a thankful n
od. At least they’re not fighting anymore, I thought.
“I know,” I said. “That’s why we can’t let that happen either.”
“Then what?” Colin asked. “I don’t see any other option here.”
“There’s one,” I said, hesitantly.
“Well?” Lisa asked. “Spill already. What’s the other option?”
I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We steal it,” I said. “We steal the relic.”
Chapter 31
“You’re crazy.” Lisa paced in a tight circle around the bench Colin and I were sitting on.
“I agree,” Colin said. “I mean, it’s one thing to stop a robbery; it’s another thing altogether to actually be the robbers.”
“Keep your voices down,” I said, glancing at the people strolling by. Lisa sighed and sat back on the bench with us, and I lowered my voice to a whisper. “It’s not ideal, I know that. But we’re talking about a life here. Three of them, actually.”
“What if we die?” Lisa said.
“We won’t,” I answered. “If we were going to die, I’d have had a vision of it. Archer shook each of our hands, so he’d be here too, telling us we were going to die.”
“We can still be arrested,” Colin said after a brief pause.
“Like you said, better arrested than dead.”
“I was talking about Sok. Not us!” He shook his head. “I’m too pretty for prison.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Lisa said.
“Guys,” I said, “we don’t have a lot of time, so how about this: let’s just think of a way to get the relic. Hypothetically speaking, how would we do it? If we can’t think of a good plan, we go to plan B and, I dunno, get some duct tape and tape Sok and his French conspirators to a tree in the park or something.”
Relic Page 13
