The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe Page 15

  After a few freeway junctions, they left the busy roads behind and flew toward a dark expanse of water. Silver moonlight reflected gently off the surface in places. Thanks to the moon, the Striker was not difficult to see, floating alone on the water as it had for years.

  The Jets gathered a few hundred feet above the destroyer to confer. Although the waterway was wide, shore lights remained visible beyond the water on both sides.

  “Seems quiet,” Chris said.

  “I guess he’s not in a band,” Nate said.

  Lindy rolled her eyes. “I don’t see any light.”

  “Hopefully he’s asleep,” Risa replied.

  “How long before the Subs get here?” Lindy wondered.

  “We were hauling and we didn’t get lost,” Chris said. “Even if they found a ride to the nearest water, we’ve got to be like an hour ahead of them.”

  “We can’t get too cocky,” Nate said. “They move through the water almost like how we fly. They might get here faster than we expect.”

  “Not sooner than half an hour,” Chris said firmly.

  “I want to be gone before they arrive,” Lindy said.

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Nate said. “It’s a big boat.”

  “If the Hermit doesn’t want to be found, it could take all night,” Chris said. “We should get started.”

  “Chris and Risa should wait here,” Nate suggested.

  “No way,” Chris said. “It’ll take twice as long to find him without us.”

  “Think about it,” Nate argued. “Somebody needs to keep watch for the Subs. Also, somebody needs to be ready in case the Hermit tries to slip away. If he escapes, we’re all in huge trouble.”

  “Maybe Risa and Lindy should stay here,” Chris negotiated. “You and I can go in after him.” Chris held up a pair of handcuffs he had brought from the training facility.

  “Lindy is really good at finding people,” Nate said. “I don’t mean she’s lucky, I mean she has an eerie gift.” They hadn’t told Chris and Risa about Lindy’s eye. Until Nate knew he could trust them, he wanted to keep that secret advantage private. He hoped he could bluff his way through this without a full explanation.

  “And I guess she feels most comfortable working with you,” Chris said.

  “Yeah,” Lindy agreed. “Is that okay?”

  “Keeping watch isn’t a weak job,” Nate assured them. “If we flush him out, you guys will be more likely to catch him than we will.”

  “Fine, go,” Chris said. “You’re wasting time.”

  “You have handcuffs?” Nate asked Lindy.

  She nodded. “You have pepper spray?”

  “It’s supposed to be strong enough for a bear,” Nate said. “Hikers carry it.”

  Lindy led the way down to the ship, diving steeply before alighting on the deck. Nate landed beside her.

  “Know where he is?” Nate asked.

  Lindy scanned the ship, then nodded. “Follow me.”

  She walked quietly to a door, opened it, and Nate followed her through into the darkness beyond. He paused to switch on his night vision, illuminating the hallway in greenish hues. Nate had a flashlight, but he knew that relying on the night vision would give him a better chance of surprising the Hermit.

  Lindy levitated a few inches off the ground. Nate followed her lead—it would enable them to move silently. They drifted along the narrow hall. The ship creaked and groaned around them—low, slow sounds. The interior of the ship smelled like old metal and mildew. Lindy led the way down a stairway. Nate hovered close to the stairs, slanting down through the still air.

  Partway down the next hall, Lindy paused and waited for Nate to drift close. She put her lips to his ear and whispered, “He’s up here on the right.”

  Nate nodded that he understood. He pulled out a canister of pepper spray and made sure it was ready to fire.

  Lindy looked at him with wide eyes, her face green because of the night vision. He could see her fear. He felt it himself.

  Who were they about to confront? They knew he was called the Hermit. They knew he might try to run. But what if he decided to fight? In the close confines within the ship, flying wouldn’t offer much advantage.

  Nate pantomimed a pistol.

  Lindy produced her tranquilizer gun.

  Nate put his lips beside her ear. “Our first choice isn’t to put him to sleep, but if things get dangerous, let him have it.”

  She gave him a thumbs-up to show her understanding. She still looked scared.

  Nate took the lead, his toes inches above the floor. He glided down the corridor like a ghost. Lindy stayed close behind. Pulling alongside Nate, Lindy gestured toward a particular doorway, then let him reclaim the lead.

  Pepper spray ready, Nate peered through the open doorway.

  A man stood in the center of the room.

  Stripped to the waist, he wore tattered jean shorts and had pale skin. His head was completely bald, but his ashen body was covered by sparse black hairs so bristly that they almost looked like short quills. The hairs were thickest on the front of his legs, the back of his arms, and atop his shoulders. He had a small, upturned nose with nostrils that almost faced forward. Fleshy webbing spanned his fingers and toes.

  “Who are you two?” he asked in a scholarly voice with a faint British accent. “You came directly to my room.”

  The sight of the man had made Nate gasp quietly. The calm, controlled voice did not match his strange appearance. The man made no threatening movement.

  “Are you the Hermit?” Nate asked.

  “Would it help if I told you no?” the man said dryly.

  “Probably not,” Nate admitted.

  “You’re floating,” the Hermit said.

  “Yep.” Nate kept the pepper spray ready.

  “I’m not dreaming, am I?” the Hermit checked.

  “No. We’re here.”

  “What do you want?” the Hermit asked.

  “The Gate,” Nate said.

  “The Gate? What Gate?”

  “The Gate to Uweya,” Nate said.

  The Hermit said nothing. Then he blinked. It was not a normal blink. It was like a clear film flowing over his eyeballs and then retracting.

  “You can float,” the Hermit said. “You know about the Gate. You trespassed with impunity. You found me without searching. Who sent you?”

  “Does it matter?” Nate asked.

  “You want to take one of my most prized possessions,” the Hermit said. “I want to know who sent you. You’ve both been enhanced. The girl has a very impressive eye. Top-notch work. Who?”

  “Jonas White,” Lindy said.

  The Hermit laughed without cheer. “A fellow Simulcrist, of course, of course. I recently thought I felt someone reaching out for me. Just for a moment. I decided I must have imagined it. Shame on me—I probably should have left immediately.” He grasped a metallic figure eight that dangled from a length of twine around his neck. “He can glimpse me, perhaps, but no matter his power, he can’t touch me.”

  “That protects you?” Lindy asked.

  “From simulcry? Absolutely. Do your worst; I’m immune.”

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” Nate said.

  “Of course not,” the Hermit scoffed. “You just want to sneak into my home, threaten me with a caustic substance, and take something that belongs to me, on behalf of an enemy.”

  “We don’t really work for Jonas,” Nate insisted. “He captured some friends of ours. We just need to get close to him so we can rescue them. We’d be happy to give you back the Gate once we find our friends.”

  The Hermit laughed mockingly. “You think giving this Simulcrist the Gate will help your friends? If you can’t stop Jonas White now, how will you stop him once he becomes the most powerful person in the world?”

  “What do you mean?” Nate asked.

  “It’s the Gate to Uweya!” the Hermit said, as if that explained everything.

  Nate had no response.

&nb
sp; “You don’t even know what he’s looking for,” the Hermit realized.

  “We just want to help our friends,” Lindy said.

  “Uweya is the most powerful simulacrum ever devised,” the Hermit said. “If the legends are true, it can influence the entire world!”

  “Are you searching for it?” Nate asked.

  “Do I look like I’m on an expedition?” the Hermit asked. “I’ve resided here for years.”

  “If you’re a Simulcrist, why haven’t you gone after it?” Nate challenged.

  “It would require more than the Gate,” the Hermit said. “Uweya? Me? No thank you. Not at present. Perhaps not ever. Although I rest much easier knowing that I have the Gate and no one else does.”

  “We need the Gate,” Nate said. “Others are coming. We’re going to get it. Don’t make this difficult.”

  “That’s too bad about your friends,” the Hermit sympathized. “I wish nobody any harm. Actually, I wish nobody anything. I just want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?”

  “People are coming,” Nate stressed. “Give us the Gate and you can leave quietly. We don’t want to harass you.”

  “Yes you do!” the Hermit replied sharply. “You are here to harass me. You are here to steal from me. This conversation is over. Tell Jonas White that he has a new enemy.”

  “Don’t make this harder than—” Nate began.

  The Hermit picked up a yellowed sheet of parchment and poked three fingers through it. As he did so, with a shriek of metal, the wall behind him tore open, forming a much larger hole of the exact same shape. Casting the parchment aside, the hermit snatched a green backpack, shrugging it on as he dove through the misshapen hole and out of the ship.

  Soaring forward, her body horizontal, Lindy streaked out through the hole. Nate paused to pick up the parchment. Tearing the hole in the parchment wider, he watched the hole in the wall expand to match. Nate dropped the parchment and followed Lindy through the widened gap.

  Outside, Chris and Risa were flying after Lindy, who glided away from the Striker, roughly thirty feet above the water. She veered away from the nearest shore, pointing down as if tracking unseen prey. Nate accelerated and caught up to Chris.

  “Does she really see him?” Chris asked.

  “I trust her,” Nate replied. “She has a sixth sense for these things.”

  “I have night vision, and I don’t see a thing,” Risa said.

  “Exactly,” Nate said. “Either Lindy has him, or we’re out of luck.”

  They had caught up to Lindy. She continued to stare down at the impenetrable water. She was flying well below top speed, but fast enough to suggest that the Hermit could swim at an abnormal pace.

  “He has to surface eventually,” Chris said.

  “I’m not sure,” Nate replied. “He didn’t look entirely human. He had webbed feet and hands.”

  “He’s a merman?” Risa asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nate said. “Some of the people who hang out with magicians have modifications. They’re called engineered apprentices. I’ve met some strange ones, including a guy full of disgusting jelly. The Hermit might be one of those, but I’m not really sure.”

  “You’ve been doing this for a while?” Chris asked.

  “I’ve had some experiences,” Nate answered vaguely.

  They continued to fly away from the ship. As they neared the center of the waterway, the Hermit surfaced. He held up a small box, opened the lid, and then got out of the way as it rapidly unfolded, inexplicably expanding into a twenty-foot sailboat. The vessel looked old-fashioned, with a single, triangular sail that hung from a slanted mast, rising from the front of the craft to the back.

  “What?” Chris exclaimed. “Where’d that come from?”

  “I don’t know,” Nate replied.

  “Pigeon’s here,” Lindy called. “That’s why the Hermit surfaced. The Subs were closing in from all sides.”

  The Hermit boarded the vessel and rummaged in his backpack. Nate suspected the Gate was in the backpack. He swooped down as the Hermit withdrew a small model identical to his sailboat. Arms outstretched, Nate closed in as the Hermit blew on the model’s sail. The mast of the twenty-foot vessel creaked as the sail suddenly filled with wind, propelling the craft briskly forward. Due to the sudden motion, Nate missed his target and pulled up to reassess the situation.

  The Hermit moved the rudder of the tiny model, and the larger vessel swerved dramatically. One of the Subs came flying out of the water like a trained dolphin. He had been aiming for the Hermit, but when the sailboat changed direction, he arced harmlessly though the air over part of the stern and plunged back below the surface.

  The Hermit continued to blow the sail of his tiny model. The sail of his actual boat strained the mast as the vessel skimmed over the water. Nate and the other Jets had to fly at a good pace to keep up.

  Nate glided closer to the others, thirty or forty feet above the bulging sail. “The little model controls the boat,” he said.

  “Uh, yeah,” Lindy replied. “I noticed.”

  “We want his backpack?” Chris asked.

  “That’s my best guess,” Nate said. “It was all he took from the Striker.”

  Another Sub, Mindy, surged out of the water. The Hermit swiveled the sail of the model sailboat, and the actual boom lurched sideways, batting the girl away. She splashed back into the water. The sight of the impact made Nathan flinch—the boom had clubbed her hard.

  “Should we go help her?” Nate asked.

  “I see a Sub on the way,” Lindy said. She brandished her tranquilizer pistol. “Is it time for this?”

  “Probably,” Nate said. “I guess we can wake him up if the Gate isn’t in the backpack.”

  Lindy dove down nearer to the boat, keeping well away from the boom. Nate darted down to fly beside her. She took aim and fired twice.

  Howling, the hermit turned the sailboat sharply. Setting aside his model boat, he opened a weathered bin on the deck and retrieved a compound bow. As the Hermit hastily nocked an arrow, Lindy veered up and left, Nate up and right. Climbing as quickly as possible, Nate saw the Hermit release the arrow, but he couldn’t follow where it went. Looking urgently at the other Jets, Nate saw that nobody had been hit.

  But the Hermit did not stop shooting. He fired arrow after arrow. The fourth took Risa through the thigh.

  All four of the Jets broke off the pursuit and climbed straight up. Once high enough to feel safe from further arrows, they huddled together in the night sky. Risa grimaced in pain.

  “Take her back,” Nate told Chris.

  He looked pale, but nodded. “What about the Hermit?”

  “We’ll keep after him,” Nate promised. “But Risa needs a doctor.”

  “Do I take her to a hospital?” Chris asked.

  Nate shook his head. “Try Jonas White first. Some of these magicians have healing abilities. Even if he can’t fix her, he’ll know what to do.”

  “You okay?” Lindy asked, a hand on Risa’s shoulder.

  “It hurts,” Risa replied bravely through gritted teeth.

  “Go,” Nate said. “Hurry.”

  Chris took Risa’s hand. “Can you fly?”

  She gave a quick nod.

  The two of them accelerated rapidly, racing back toward Walnut Hills.

  “Think she’ll be okay?” Lindy asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nate said. “Hopefully the arrow didn’t hit an artery or something. One thing is for sure—this isn’t a game. That Sub who got swatted found that out as well.”

  “Do we keep after him?” Lindy asked.

  “I think so,” Nate said. “But we need to keep our distance. He’s playing for keeps.”

  “I hit him with at least one dart,” Lindy said. “I saw it connect.”

  “I hope it takes effect soon,” Nate replied.

  The sailboat had moved away while they talked. Nate led the way down toward it again. Before long he came close enough to see the Hermit o
n the deck, blowing on the sail of the model. The compound bow remained close at hand.

  The Hermit showed no sign of dropping unconscious. Perhaps Lindy had missed after all. Or maybe he was immune.

  Nate felt unsure how to proceed. He wanted to claim the Gate so he could stay close to Jonas White and rescue John and Mozag. But he didn’t want to get himself or Lindy killed by an arrow. How would that benefit anyone?

  Lindy flew near to Nate. “Two Subs closing in,” she informed him.

  One of the Subs shot up from the water and onto the deck of the sailboat. Nate recognized him as Drew. Instead of leaping at the Hermit, he had simply come aboard. Crouched and completely dry, he remained half the length of the vessel away from the Hermit.

  “Get off my boat,” the Hermit warned. “Stop pursuing me. I won’t ask twice.”

  Edging forward, Drew produced a truncheon that looked like a miniature baseball bat. Nate had toyed with some similar truncheons at the training facility.

  Setting aside the model sailboat, the Hermit grasped his bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. Drew dove over the side of the boat at the same time as Pigeon burst out of the water from behind the Hermit. As the Hermit swiveled to face the new threat, Pigeon ignored him, lunging instead for the model sailboat. The Hermit had barely set his arrow to the string when Pigeon brought both hands down on the intricate model. The actual sailboat buckled and shattered, catapulting the Hermit into the water.

  “Way to go, Pidge!” Nate shouted. “What’s going on now?” he called to Lindy.

  “The Hermit is heading straight for the nearest shore,” Lindy replied. “He has the backpack. He dropped the bow to swim better. Pigeon and Drew are after him. He keeps fending them off with his hands and feet.”

  Lindy flew along, pointing down at the water, and Nate followed unquestioningly. He got his pepper spray ready. The shore drew steadily closer.

  “Pigeon and Drew keep harassing him,” Lindy reported. “The Hermit is fighting as much as he’s swimming. He still has his backpack.”

  They reached the shore and the Hermit emerged from the water with Pigeon and Drew in close pursuit. But they didn’t stay close for long. On land, the Hermit was at least twice as fast as the two boys. He dashed away into a stand of trees. The Subs stayed after him, but they lost ground with every stride.