by Bryan Davis
It landed with a flurry and perched on the roof about fifty feet from us. The passenger climbed down and walked toward Damocles. Wearing feathery wings of his own, he stopped several paces away. Moonlight illuminated his hawk-like nose and evil grin. “Damocles,” he said in a formal tone, “thank you for arriving on time.”
I glanced at my gadgets belt. With Sam’s strength and my spool lines, we could probably capture that fiend, but we needed to learn what this plan was all about.
Damocles crossed his arms. “I’m in no mood for your fake pleasantries. Just tell me what you want.”
“To inform you that I am holding Chet Graham. Your delay in meeting with him proved to be costly. He was unable to hide from me any longer.”
“All right. You informed me. Now what?”
“You have seen what I can do with Graham’s technology, and you have the influence to collect the ransom money. Deliver one billion dollars in cash to this spot within three days or I will unleash an earthquake that will turn Nirvana into a heap of rubble. Then the ransom will jump to ten billion dollars, or I will destroy the entire world except for my secret fortress.”
Damocles gave him a skeptical stare. “And how will you ensure that the technology is returned?”
“I have the only activation key for the mechanism’s software. There is no way to save the programming code, duplicate it, or even read it. When you bring the money here, I will give you the mechanism at the same moment. Then I will no longer be able to employ the technology.”
Damocles shook his head. “That’s an old trick. I’m not stupid, Mephisto.”
“Perhaps you would believe Graham.” Mephisto waved a hand. A man wearing a suit and tie descended from the helicopter, dangling by a rope hooked to his belt. His hands and bare feet appeared to be bound as he swayed beneath the whipping propeller blades, his wiggling toes about ten feet from the roof.
The man shouted hoarsely, “Damocles, it’s me! Chet Graham!”
The camera hummed and zoomed in on him while Damocles squinted.
A red icon flashed on the computer screen. Low battery. We had to get this meeting finished.
Damocles maintained a skeptical pose. “All right, Chet, what do you have to say?”
“He’s telling the truth.” The propeller chopped through Graham’s words. “The software is safe. If we get the device back, he can’t use the technology.”
I pulled the razor-disk gun from my belt and aimed it at the rope. Since it shifted in the wind, hitting it would be tricky, but I had practiced with more difficult targets.
“Chet,” Damocles said, “explain why you had an invention that destabilizes the earth. What good does that accomplish?”
“We were studying fault lines, running quake simulations in a tiny area so we could expand it on a computer to see who was most vulnerable. Our goal was to manufacture a warning device. The quake prototype was never intended to be used on a large scale.”
“Yet it was able to —” Damocles’s voice garbled. Static filled his projected image. The battery was about to die.
I pulled the trigger. The razor disk shot out and nicked the rope a foot or so over Graham’s head. Strands popped. The rope unraveled, but it didn’t quite break.
Damocles disappeared.
Mephisto’s gaze shifted until it landed on us. “Who are you?”
“We’re busted.” I reclipped everything to my belt and grabbed Sam’s hand. “We’ll run when I say go. Got it?”
She nodded, her stare locked on Graham.
Mephisto shouted toward the helicopter. “Damocles was a hologram. The real Damocles might be ready to attack.” Then Mephisto and the eagle vanished.
I gasped. They were holograms, too!
“They’re leaving,” Sam said. “I have to save Mr. Graham.” She ran across the roof and leaped toward him as he began rising higher with the helicopter. Her supercharged muscles sent her flying. She grabbed hold of his legs. The rope snapped, and they plunged together toward the roof.
Chapter 9
When Accidentally Going into the Girls’
Restroom is a Good Thing
Graham landed on top of Sam. She let out a muffled squeal. When he rolled off, he curled on his side and groaned.
I ran to them. Sam lay spread eagle, a tight grimace on her face, though a smile broke through. She wheezed, “I did it.”
“You almost got yourself killed!” My tone came out too harsh. She didn’t deserve it. I heaved a sigh and extended my hand. “I’m sorry. C’mon Princess.”
After I helped her rise, I withdrew a knife from my belt and cut the ropes binding Graham’s wrists and ankles. He climbed to his feet, looked toward the sky, and growled. “The scoundrel escaped. I was hoping Damocles would catch him and put him away for good.” He scanned the dim rooftop. “I saw the hologram. Where’s the real Damocles?”
I brushed dark grit from Sam’s shirt. “I’m not sure. I was surprised when he disappeared.”
“That is his way.” Graham stooped in front of Sam and smiled. “Thank you for rescuing me. Who knows what Mephisto might have done to me if not for you?”
She grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“Are you hurt?” He scanned her body. “Cuts? Bruises?”
“Just a headache, but I’m okay.”
He looked her in the eye. “How in heaven’s name were you able to jump so high?”
I barged in. “You weren’t real high. It probably seemed higher because you were dangling from a chopper. And Sam’s quite an athlete.” I gave her a prodding look. “Aren’t you, Sam?”
“Uh-huh.” She winced. “But now I feel … kind of sick.”
Graham touched the back of her head. “Might be a concussion. We’d better get her to a doctor.” He scooped her into his arms and limped toward the roof’s access door, wincing as the pebbly surface stabbed his bare feet. “I know a doctor who’ll examine her.”
“No!” I ran and caught up. “I need to get her to our mother. She’ll take her to our family doctor.”
“With traffic in a snarl and electricity out? That’s not happening.” He set Sam down on her feet next to the open trapdoor. “And besides, we need to contact Damocles so we can counter Mephisto’s plot. Since you seem to be friends with him, I assume you can help me find him.”
“Well … maybe.”
“That’s why we can’t wait while you visit your mother. We’re liable to have more earthquakes unless we stop Mephisto right away.”
He talked to me like I was five years old. I hated that. “It’s not like I know his phone number or anything. He shows up when he wants to.”
“I understand. But now he knows the circumstances. Maybe he’ll find us.”
After we made our way down the stairs and exited the building to the deserted street, Graham looked up at the dark sky. Moonlight illuminated his face, giving me a good look at his crew-cut hair and a short gash next to one eye that oozed a little blood. “Knowing Mephisto,” he said, “he’ll cause another earthquake soon, just to remind Damocles of his demands.”
“Where is Mephisto’s hideout? Since he captured you, you must know where it is.”
Graham shook his head. “I was blindfolded until they lowered me from the helicopter.”
“You couldn’t even get a peek?”
“Not a chance. The blindfold was super tight.”
I studied his profile again. The facial cut probably came from hitting the roof, but there was no sign of constriction from a tight blindfold. “So what do we do next?”
“Wait for Damocles to show up. He’s the only one who can deliver the ransom and make sure Mephisto returns my technology.”
“What? You expect Damocles to pay Mephisto?”
He gave me the old I’m-an-adult-so-I’m-smarter-than-you look. “Do you have a better idea?”
“Good luck with that.” Graham withdrew a phone from his pocket. “I need to make a call. Maybe the communication towers are operating by now.” He walked several steps away and raised the phone to his ear.
I squinted at him. Why would Mephisto let a prisoner keep a phone?
“Sam,” I hissed. “Listen in on his phone call and tell me what you hear.”
“I’ll try, but something’s ringing in my ears.” She trained her stare on Graham’s back and relayed his end of the conversation. “Yeah, I’m all right. Just a cut. … No clue yet. But I’ll find out what the kids know. … Don’t worry. Damocles will get the cash. I’m sure he’ll show up soon to check on the kids.”
I whispered, “I don’t like the sound of that.” I slid my hand around Sam’s wrist. “Let’s get out of here.”
When I pulled, she set her feet. “Why?”
“I think he’s one of the crooks. Trust me. I’ll try to explain later.”
“All right. If you say so.” We ran together back into the Stellar building and up the stairway, still lit by generator lights. As we climbed the steps, Sam gasped for breath. Her legs trembled. She wouldn’t last much longer.
I lifted her and carried her fireman style. She didn’t make a peep as she lay limply over my shoulders. I opened the door leading to the second-floor and stepped into a dark hallway.
With my hand against a wall, I searched for a door handle. When I came across one, I pulled the door open, walked in with her, and closed it behind us.
I put Sam down in a sitting position and settled next to her on a cool tile floor. Moonlight seeped through a window about ten steps away, illuminating her pain-streaked face. I brushed a tear from her cheek. “Are you injured?”
She squeaked, “I don’t think so.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I dunno. I just feel sick.”
“Maybe dirty pizza and ant-covered hot dogs.”
“Maybe.” Her voice altered to a whine. “I just want my mommy.”
“We’ll see her soon.” I patted her knee. “Stay right here.”
I rose and walked toward the window. Sinks lined one wall and toilet stalls the other. The absence of urinals told me more. We had stumbled into a girls’ restroom.
When I reached the window’s clear pane, I touched its frame — sealed. No way to open it. Outside, the wall led straight down to a street. All clear below.
From my gadgets belt, I unhooked the glass cutter — a diamond blade with a pen-like handle. Setting the blade against the pane and leaning into the effort, I cut a rectangular hole big enough for both of us. Just before finishing, I grabbed a suction cup from my belt, stuck it to the glass, and pulled on it while completing the cut.
Helped by a breeze from outside, I hoisted the carved-out section in and set it against a stall. Smoky air poured in, carrying the odor of an electrical fire. With generators running city-wide, many accidental blazes were likely to sprout.
Sticking my head out the new opening, I looked below. A wide chasm ran straight down the middle of the street, and several cracks in the sidewalk made it look like someone had taken a jackhammer to it.
I mentally measured the vertical distance to the ground — about fifteen feet. We could do this. I walked back to Sam and helped her rise. “I need you to hang on to my back while I drop a spool line. Think you can do it?”
She nodded, her lips tight.
“Good girl.” I stooped low. “Hop up.”
She climbed onto my back and hung on. I hurried to the window, pulled a timed-release claw from my belt, and reeled out several feet of attached line. I attached the claw to a stall support and set the release timer for one minute. At that time, the claw’s hooks would retract and let go of the anchor point.
As I retrieved gloves from my belt and put them on, I whispered to Sam, “You can do this. You’re brave, just like Princess Queenie.”
“I know,” she said with a squeak, “but you’re braver than me.”
With my gloved hands clutching the newly cut edges of the opening, I stepped up to the window sill. Sam’s weight made every movement harder.
I turned, swinging Sam out over the sidewalk. Holding the spool line with both hands, I rappelled down. Each time I pushed off the exterior wall, Sam grunted softly.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “Can’t slow down. Thirty seconds till the hook releases. Don’t want to slam butt-first on broken concrete.”
Sam giggled. “You don’t want to make your butt crack bigger?”
“Right. I don’t want a gluteus cracksimus.”
“What? I don’t get it.”
“Never mind. Now stay quiet. We’re getting close.” I glanced around. Moonlight revealed nothing but an empty city street in both directions. Graham was nowhere in sight.
The moment my feet touched down, the line went slack. Perfect timing. I pushed the button on the spool. The mechanism’s whirring sound broke the silence as it slurped up the line. When the claw slapped against the spool, I pulled the laser pen from my belt and whispered, “Can you walk?”
“Maybe. For a little while.”
I took her hand. “Let me know if you get tired. You can ride again.”
While pointing the pen’s narrow beam in front, I led Sam down the sidewalk. We dodged chunks of concrete as well as broken bricks, piles of shattered glass, and splintered boards that had fallen from various damaged buildings.
At one point, the debris blocked the walkway, piled too high to climb over. We detoured to the chasm in the middle of the street, found a narrow part, and jumped over it. At least Graham wouldn’t be able to follow us. The rubble would slice his bare feet to pieces.
Soon, Sam grew tired again, and I let her ride on my back. I thought it best not to talk about her sudden loss of super strength, and since she didn’t mention it, we just stayed quiet as we turned this way and that along quake-ravaged streets.
After a few minutes, we drew within two blocks of the police car we had seen earlier, though this time from the opposite side. As blue strobe lights swept past, I didn’t bother trying to hide from the officer’s view. Maybe we could get a ride somehow.
“I smell something,” Sam said as we approached a corner. “Like a rotting dead dog.”
“I don’t smell anything.” I stopped at the corner. After a few seconds, I smelled the odor. A flooded street blocked our way, and a bunch of rats swam in the water. The strong current kept some of them trapped in the flow while others scrambled to safety at each edge.
The police officer had mentioned the magna-gopher uprooting the roads and breaking water lines, but the rats meant that the sewers had also ruptured, explaining the stink. The water was probably filled with filth, but the fast current indicated a shallow stream, though holes might be hiding almost anywhere under the surface.
Sam squeezed my shoulder. “Um … what do we do now?”
“I’m thinking.” I searched the other side of the road for something that might hold a line claw, but all the streetlamps lay on the ground with their lamps submerged. Swinging over the flood wasn’t possible. “We’ll have to cross slowly. The rats will get out of the way.”
“Okay …” Sam stretched out the word. “If you’re sure.”
“Right now I’m not sure about anything.” I took a tentative step. Cool water ran into my shoe and soaked my sock. From this spot, the water looked about ankle deep. “Help me watch for holes.”
“Okay, but I hear something.”
“What?”
“A man saying bad words. Like he’s in pain.”
I looked back. A human-shaped shadow appeared a block away, moving steadily toward us, though he stopped at times and rubbed a foot.
“Let’s go.” I walked straight into the flood, sliding m
y shoes and squinting at the flow to try to detect any holes. Rats swam out of my path. Dirty water rose to my calves, then to my knees. The current pushed against me, making it hard to lift a foot without losing my balance, especially with Sam wiggling on my back.
When I reached the halfway point, a man called from the rear. “Hey, you two! Stop!”
Graham’s voice. I quickened my pace. Only five more steps and I could run on dry pavement. One step. Two. Three. When I set my foot down for number four, it plunged into deep water, and I face planted onto a swarm of rats and into the flood.
Sam’s weight sent me under. With filthy water surrounding me, I couldn’t breathe. Her arms tightened around my throat, pinching my blood supply. In seconds, I would pass out.
Chapter 10
What Do You Do When Your Save-the-World
Device Needs Electricity but There’s
No Place to Plug it In?
Sam’s grip loosened. Something latched on to my shirt and hoisted me up to shallow water. As I slid backwards toward the police car, I tried to turn my head to see who was dragging me, but I couldn’t get the right angle. Who else could it be but Sam?
The car’s spinning blue lights illuminated Graham as he trudged through the flood several paces away. I flipped over and jerked loose from my rescuer’s grasp. Sam stood next to me in calf-deep water. She did rescue me.
“You must be feeling better,” I said.
“I don’t feel good at all.” Her eyes rolled upward, and she collapsed with a splash.
I dropped to my knees and held her above the surface. Although she was breathing, her face looked ghostly pale in the blue glow. “Sam? What’s wrong? Can you hear me?”
Her eyes stayed closed, and her breathing rasped, fast and shallow. I had to get her to Mom or maybe a hospital.
“Is she all right?” Graham called from the stream. “Did she faint?”
“Maybe.” I rose to my feet, lifting her in my arms. Oily water streamed from her clothes and oozed across my skin. “I have to go.”
“No. Wait. I’ll help you.” Graham set a foot forward. When it sank into the hole Sam and I had fallen into, he drew back. “Just stay put until I find a safe way across.”
