The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe

by Brandon Mull

Trevor nodded. “Okay, get out of here. We’ll pass on what info we have.”

  “When will we see you?” Pigeon asked, eyes on Lindy.

  “Tell my dad I’ll be home tonight,” Lindy said. “Tell him I need him to be understanding.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Pigeon promised.

  “We’ll talk later,” Nate told Trevor. “This will make more sense after you get your stamp.”

  “I hope so,” Trevor replied.

  Nate and Lindy backed away, then headed for the door.

  Chapter Ten

  Training

  The training facility turned out to be a few blocks away inside a warehouse Jonas White had rented. Unimpressive on the outside except for its size, the facility contained many surprises inside. An assortment of gymnastics equipment filled one corner of the cavernous room, including parallel bars, a pommel horse, vaulting boards and tables, trampolines of diverse sizes, balance beams of different heights, mats for tumbling, climbing ropes, and a wide pit full of foam cubes. An indoor pool, built partially above ground and encircled by a wooden deck, dominated another corner of the room. A third quadrant held sporting equipment, including weight sets and punching bags, and featured multiple basketball hoops and a miniature soccer goal. The last corner of the huge warehouse was devoted to fighting, with a large wrestling mat and a full boxing ring. Along the walls hung gear for fencing, boxing, wrestling, and martial arts.

  “Are we prepping for the Olympics?” Nate asked as he and Lindy entered. His voice echoed slightly in the vast space.

  “I couldn’t believe it either,” Lindy replied. “It’s all for us.”

  “Just the Jets?”

  “All four clubs,” Chris answered, soaring down from above the entrance with Risa. “The other kids don’t come here much. I expect more will show once their clubs fill up.”

  “We’re free to fly in here,” Risa said. “We don’t risk it much outside, except at night.”

  “It’s pretty awesome,” Lindy told Nate.

  “I’m excited to go for it,” Nate said. Ever since hovering in the room with Jonas White, he had let the ability lie dormant, all the while aware that the potential resided within him.

  “Watch your speed,” Chris cautioned. “It takes some room to stop or turn. If you’re not careful, you’ll get flattened against a wall.”

  Nate willed himself into the air, and up he went. It took no more effort than for a healthy person at rest to start running. The sensation was quite different than with Moon Rocks. Using Moon Rocks, he jumped, and physics controlled his trajectory until he collided with something. Now, he could swerve in any direction as desired.

  The tall ceiling in the warehouse allowed Nate to soar high above the floor. The height bothered him a little, but Moon Rocks had helped train him not to freak out in lofty places. He picked up some speed, swooping down, then curved back up. As he changed direction at a greater speed than before, he felt what Chris had meant about turning. Nate could will himself to turn, but his speed limited how sharply. It was like turning while on a bike—the higher the speed, the more gradual the turn needed to be.

  Nate also practiced speeding up and stopping. Again, like with his bike, he needed some space to accelerate and decelerate. Nate found that if he turned as he stopped, he could kill his momentum more effectively.

  Air whooshed by as Nate soared around the room making lazy figure eights. The sensation was by far the most exhilarating he had ever felt. He extended one arm ahead of himself, partly because it felt natural, partly in case he needed to ward off a collision. As he practiced turning more sharply at higher speeds, he felt g-forces straining his body, like when rounding a curve on a fast roller coaster.

  Lindy, Chris, and Risa glided through the air around him. Lindy was the most tentative, Risa the most aggressive, swooshing along within inches of the walls, ceiling, and floor.

  “You’re catching on fast,” Chris commented, soaring alongside Nate.

  “Now that I’m doing it, flying feels pretty natural,” Nate said.

  Chris grinned. He slowed, and Nate came to a stop beside him, fifteen feet above the floor. “Risa and I have talked about the same thing. It feels like we had this power all along, and Mr. White just woke it up.”

  “Have you had flying dreams?” Nate asked.

  “Sure.”

  “It’s sort of like that’s how I got my practice.”

  “Just wait,” Chris said. “Risa and I have had flying dreams practically nonstop since all of this started. Once I woke up pressed to the ceiling in my room.”

  “How long ago did you get your stamp?”

  “More than two weeks. I had been hanging around the arcade a lot, and Todd drew my attention to the stamps. After I earned one, I told Risa and Roman they had to get their own. She earned hers quickly, but Roman got grounded, and then you guys showed up.”

  “I really am sorry about him missing a jet stamp,” Nate said.

  “I believe you,” Chris said hesitantly. “I’m not looking forward to competing against Roman. He’s going to be mad, and the kid knows how to win.”

  “Some of my friends will be against us too,” Nate said. “Should keep things interesting.”

  “Check it out,” Chris said, pointing.

  Risa was inserting poles into sockets around the room in the walls, ceiling, and floor. Each pole held a ring.

  “What’s with the rings?” Nate asked.

  “Training exercise,” Chris said. “It’s one thing to fly, and another to do stuff while you’re flying. The rings are good practice. I also like playing catch. When you’re flying around, it’s harder than you might guess.”

  “Is this what you guys do mostly?” Nate asked. “Fly around in here? Train and stuff?”

  “Mostly,” Chris replied. “Mr. White has sent us on a couple of errands lately. We get something for him, and he pays us well.”

  “Pays you with what?”

  “Money.”

  “Right. Are you stealing stuff?”

  “Sort of,” Chris admitted. “But he isn’t going to keep it. We’re just borrowing things he needs for his treasure hunt. He promised to return it all in the end.”

  Nate remembered Mrs. White sending them to “borrow” items for her. She had sometimes pretended they were recovering family heirlooms. “What have you gotten?”

  “A book from a museum near Sacramento,” Chris said.

  “Sacramento? That’s pretty far.”

  “Not so far when you’re flying,” Chris explained. “We can get up to around a hundred miles per hour in the open sky. We went at night, of course. We had night vision goggles. You’d be surprised how easily you can nab stuff when you can fly. We set off some alarms, but none of the guards or police had a chance. ”

  “What else have you taken?” Nate probed.

  “An old doll from a mansion near San Anselmo, in Marin County.”

  “A doll?”

  “An ancient one like you might see at a museum. It was made of wood and carved all weird.”

  “Native American?”

  “Probably. We didn’t study it. We just snatched it. Mr. White will give it back later. We left $10,000 as a rental fee.”

  “They rented it to you?” Nate asked.

  “We didn’t ask permission. Mr. White paid us a bunch, too, since it wasn’t directly part of the treasure hunt. We were helping with his preparations.”

  “Think we’ll get more of those assignments?” Nate wondered.

  “I don’t know,” Chris said. “The last two times it came as a surprise.”

  Risa glided over to them, handing Nate a short wooden baton.

  “What’s this?” Nate asked.

  “Use it to collect the rings,” she said. “They’re clamped loosely to the poles. They’ll pop off with a little force. See how quickly you can round them up.”

  Nate rubbed his hands together. “Are you going to time me?”

  Producing a stopwatch, Risa gave a nod. “Le
t’s get started.”

  *****

  When Summer entered the training facility with a short, freckly kid, Nate was playing catch with the three other Jets. They used a black, undersized football. Risa could throw and catch almost as well as Chris, but Lindy was practically hopeless, catching fewer than one in ten of the balls thrown her way.

  Nate hardly dropped any. It had not taken him long to learn to anticipate the trajectory of the ball and to get into position for just about any throw that came near him. He loved when the football was a little ahead of him and he could accelerate to come alongside it, then pluck the ball out of the air almost as if it were standing still. Once he glanced off the wall fairly hard, missing a catch, and once he narrowly avoided colliding with the floor, swooping up just in time, the toes of his shoes grazing blue gymnastics mats.

  “Wow,” Summer called from the floor of the facility. “I’ve never seen a flock of kids before!”

  Nate, Chris, Risa, and Lindy landed near Summer and her companion.

  “Hi, Derek,” Chris said. “I see you found a friend.”

  “Two Tanks are better than one,” Derek replied.

  “You’re a Jet, Lindy?” Summer asked in surprise.

  “I worked at it on my own,” Lindy explained.

  Risa looked around. “I have a feeling this place will start getting busy.”

  “Todd told me that a lot of kids are getting close to enough tickets for a stamp,” Derek said. “You guys playing catch?” He held up his hands for the ball.

  Risa handed it over.

  “Go long,” Derek said.

  Chris and Risa streaked toward the far corner of the room. Derek made an amazing throw, the ball streaking up toward the far corner of the huge warehouse with hardly any arc. Chris reached to make the catch, but the ball slapped off his hands and into the wall. Risa curved down and caught the football before it struck the floor.

  Nate looked at Derek with new respect. He doubted whether the strongest NFL quarterback could have thrown the ball so hard. “I guess being a Tank makes you stronger?”

  Summer leaned close to him. “It’s like an Ironhide, plus you weigh more, plus you’re stronger. And it lasts for two days.”

  “How strong?” Nate asked.

  Summer shrugged. “Try to push me.”

  Nate placed a hand on each of Summer’s shoulders and shoved. Instead of her moving, he pushed himself away, as if he had shoved a wall. Summer smirked.

  “You look the same,” Nate said, surprised.

  “I didn’t get bigger,” Summer said. “But I weigh a lot more, and I’m scary strong.”

  “How strong?” Nate repeated.

  “Fly up to the ceiling.”

  Nate turned and started to soar upward. A hand gripped his ankle with painful tightness, and his upward progress stopped. He put everything he had into flying up, but didn’t go anywhere.

  He glanced back at Summer. “So you can hold me down. But I’m not sure I could carry your weight even if you weren’t a Tank.”

  “Are you calling me chubby?” Summer accused.

  “No,” Nate said. “I’m just not sure how much extra weight I can carry while flying.”

  Derek walked over holding a barbell. “Two 45-pound plates on each side,” he said. “Plus the bar weighs 45. That’s a total of 225.”

  He tossed the barbell to Summer, who caught it easily. She lifted it over her head. “This isn’t bad,” she reported. “Kind of heavy. I could do more.” She set it down.

  Nate bent and tried to pick it up. The barbell felt fused to the floor. He couldn’t lift it at all, although he could roll it back and forth.

  Nate straightened, looking at Derek. “Can you lift a car?”

  “The back end of a small one. But that feels really heavy. With Summer helping we might be able to lift a small one completely off the ground.”

  “So you’re not strong like a superhero,” Nate clarified.

  “Not really,” Derek said. “But we can take punishment like a superhero. Still, I’m not a big kid, but it would probably take the strongest man alive to challenge me at arm wrestling.”

  “I’m impressed,” Nate said. “Do you guys shoot cannonballs, too?”

  “Do you launch air-to-surface missiles?” Summer countered.

  Nate shook his head. “I wish we were a little more durable. We have to be careful flying or we could really get hurt.”

  “You better be careful if you go up against the Tanks,” Derek warned with a smile. “You might get hurt that way, too.”

  *****

  Parked near an office supply store, Vincent, Ziggy, Trevor, and Pigeon huddled together in the white van. Trevor and Pigeon munched on the donuts Ziggy had provided.

  “Jonas White?” Vincent said. “He normally keeps to the shadows. Not a lot is known about him. I suppose we should have kept him higher on our suspect list. After all, his sister was here last year. But he has never been known to partner with his sister, and although we suspect that he’s powerful, he has stayed inactive for decades.”

  “Sometimes guys like him bide their time,” Ziggy said. “They’re powerful, but they’ve learned patience. They marshal their resources and wait for a big score. Remember Vadik Baskov?”

  Victor snorted. “Good point.”

  “What did he do?” Pigeon wondered.

  “He stole the Hope Diamond,” Victor said.

  “From the Smithsonian?” Pigeon exclaimed.

  “This was before the Smithsonian had it,” Ziggy said.

  “We returned it to the rightful owner,” Victor added.

  “How long have you guys been doing this?” Trevor wondered.

  “Almost a century,” Ziggy replied.

  “We’re straying off topic,” Victor said.

  “Right,” Ziggy said. “Jonas White. What else did you learn?”

  “Nate told us that the stamps themselves have power,” Trevor said. “He was worried about sharing details.”

  “Summer seemed nervous too,” Pigeon said. “She came by briefly after she finished with Jonas. She said he was planning a treasure hunt.”

  “Treasure hunt?” Victor repeated. “What could he be after?”

  “That’s a question for Mozag,” Ziggy replied. “I’m not sure what a magician might want around here.”

  “What else do you guys know about Jonas White?” Pigeon asked.

  “Almost nothing,” Victor said. “Again, it would be nice to ask Mozag. I know that Jonas White has been around since long before our time, which means he’s no featherweight. I’m not sure where he comes from or what his specialties might be.”

  “We looked into the nachos,” Ziggy said. “They’ve magically tampered with the cheese. We’re not experts at magical formulas, but we think the cheese is like the white fudge from John’s report on Belinda White. The cheese is addictive and numbs the ability of those who eat it to perceive the supernatural.”

  “We think it might also be designed to reactivate any old white fudge addictions,” Victor added. “We’ll confirm more as we continue to monitor the situation. Certainly stay away from it.”

  “We will,” Trevor said. “And we’ll let you know more after we earn our stamps tomorrow.”

  “Careful about that,” Ziggy warned. “Jonas White is recruiting. He’ll have ways of binding you to him. He won’t want you sharing info with us.”

  “If all else fails, come to my house in the middle of the night,” Pigeon said. “I’ll talk to you.”

  “I hope so,” Victor sighed.

  *****

  Nate and Lindy flew beside each other through the night sky. Staying well above the rooftops, Nate doubted whether people on the ground could possibly identify them as anything more than small, quick shadows against the moon and stars. The cool night air swished against him. It felt exhilarating not to be limited by a ceiling or walls. If he wanted, he could soar up to where the air would become thin and freezing.

  Nate didn’t try anyt
hing too fancy because he didn’t want to lose track of Lindy in the darkness. He had promised to stand by her when she returned home.

  They glided down to the back of the candy shop, careful to land lightly. While practicing at the training facility, Nate had landed without much caution a couple of times, and it had felt like jumping from a moving vehicle.

  The candy shop was closed. Lindy used a key to enter through the back door. She flipped a light switch. A moment after the lights came on, Mr. Stott hurried into the room. He looked from Nate to Lindy, his posture and expression showing his relief. He straightened up and tried to sound stern. “Where have you been, young lady?”

  “I was the first to get a stamp,” she said uncertainly, showing the back of her hand. “I’m a Jet. I can fly.”

  Although clearly surprised and upset, Mr. Stott was trying to keep calm. “I was very worried about you.”

  “Then maybe you should have let me help,” Lindy said. “I wasn’t going to let my friends go into danger without me. I wasn’t going to ignore John Dart and Mozag.”

  Mr. Stott rubbed his face. “This places me in a difficult position, Lindy.”

  “I’m a Jet too,” Nate said. “We found out who owns Arcadeland.”

  “Who?”

  “Jonas White.”

  Mr. Stott blanched. “Mrs. White’s brother?”

  Nate nodded.

  “Oh, dear,” Mr. Stott said. He started pacing. “This is . . . this is . . .” He stopped pacing and held out his arms. “Lindy, come here.”

  Lindy crossed to Mr. Stott, who enfolded her in a fierce hug.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” Lindy said, her voice choked with emotion.

  “I know,” Mr. Stott said. “I placed you in a tough position. It’s hard when I make a rule that conflicts with what you feel is right. I know you didn’t disobey me casually.”

  “I didn’t,” she said.

  “I’m glad that you’re all right,” Mr. Stott said. Ending the hug, he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “You realize that you’re in great danger.”

  “All of us are,” she replied.

  “We’ll talk more later,” Mr. Stott said. “Go wash up. I need to have some words with Nate in private.”