The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe Page 29

  “Hey,” Nate said. “Am I the last to arrive?”

  “You could say that,” Chris replied. “Where’d you go last night? Jonas didn’t seem happy that you skipped coming back here.”

  “I was freaked out,” Nate said, unsure who else might be listening to his response. “I mean, we almost drowned Roman. I needed some time to get my head right. But now I’m good. I’m ready.”

  Nate stepped through the door. Chris leaned close. “Can you believe we’re going after Uweya so soon?”

  Nate kept his voice low. “Yep. It leaves nobody time to react. Pretty smart.” Nate stopped whispering. “Did you sleep here?”

  “It was late,” Chris said, as if making an excuse for a misdeed. “We were exhausted. Mr. White thought it would be better than to have us go home only to come back so early.”

  They were walking toward an EMPLOYEES ONLY door. Cleon stood beside it. He gave a casual, two-fingered salute. He wore tinted sunglasses and had a toothpick between his lips. Nate waved.

  “Long night?” Cleon asked.

  “Short night,” Nate replied. “I slept like a rock.”

  Using a key, Cleon opened the door, then followed them through. He escorted them to the elevator, and from there to Tallah’s door. He knocked.

  Nate scanned up and down the hall, searching for signs of a fight. No evidence of the showdown with Victor and Trevor was apparent.

  Tallah answered the door. She wore long, beaded earrings and an embroidered wrap over her purple top. “Welcome,” she said to Nate. “So nice to see you again.”

  “Thanks,” Nate said, entering with the others as she stepped aside.

  “Hey,” Lindy greeted. “Nice of you to rejoin us.” She sat on a sofa beside Risa.

  “I needed alone time,” Nate said. “I was feeling overwhelmed. I had to go crash.”

  “Now that you’re all here, we can begin,” Tallah said. “Who would care for oatmeal with cinnamon apples?”

  “They’re not here for tainted snacks,” Cleon snapped.

  “Mind your tongue, Mr. Cleon,” Tallah chided. “No need for unpleasantness. You kids want to get down to business?”

  “Yes, please,” Risa said.

  “There we go,” Tallah said. “Ask politely and I’m happy to accommodate. First things first. We need to wash your stamps away. Mr. Jonas insisted that we start from scratch. Hold out your hands.”

  Nate extended his stamped hand. Tallah brushed a clear fluid onto the back of his fist. The pungent solution stung a little and felt very cold, as if it were evaporating rapidly. He turned his head away from the smell.

  Once they had all been brushed with the solution, Tallah came by with a coarse cloth and scrubbed their hands briskly. Nate studied the back of his hand after she finished. His skin was red and raw. No trace of ink remained.

  “You can choose two stamps,” Tallah said. “Jonas urged me to attempt three, but I swore I could make no three of his stamps stable, and he believed me. Good thing, too, else you kids might have suffered damage without remedy. Mr. Jonas informed me that due to the nature of your upcoming task, one stamp must enable you to fly. Each of you is free to choose whichever second stamp you wish.”

  “For the record,” Cleon interjected, “you’d be wise to make sure various abilities are represented. This promises to be your toughest assignment yet.”

  “I want to be a flying tank,” Chris said. “I’ve always thought that would be the best combo.”

  “Fine with me,” Nate said.

  “I think a racer jet would be best,” Risa said. “Do you guys mind if I do that?”

  “Go for it,” Lindy encouraged. She turned to Cleon. “Think we’ll need to go underwater?”

  “Not as far as I know,” Cleon said. “We can’t guarantee anything, but it seems unlikely.”

  “Then maybe I’ll be a flying tank also,” Lindy replied.

  “What about you, Nate?” Cleon asked.

  Nate dug a piece of Peak Performance gum from his pocket. “What about this?” Nate asked, holding the stick of gum out to Tallah. “Could you blend this with two stamps?”

  Furrowing her brow, Tallah accepted the gum. She unwrapped it and sniffed it. She tested the corner with her tongue. After scowling thoughtfully, she gave it another tiny lick. Then she passed the gum back to Nate.

  “No way could I blend this with two stamps. It is very potent magic, premium work. I could, however, modify the gum so it would harmonize with a single stamp.”

  Nate nodded. “Okay. Then I want flight and this gum. I have two other sticks. The effect doesn’t last very long. Could you set up all three to work with a jet stamp?”

  “I believe I could,” Tallah said. “You’d want to use the gum one stick at a time, of course. Are we all resolved? Should I get to work?” She looked to Cleon.

  “Why the gum, Nate?” Cleon asked. “You sure it beats tank strength and racer speed?”

  “I’m not sure,” Nate said. “But you saw it in action in the arcade. We already have a flying racer and two flying tanks. This gives us a different weapon. You suggested variety.”

  Cleon shrugged. “Fair enough. It’s your hide. I won’t object.”

  Tallah set about her work. She applied dual stamps to Chris, Risa, and Lindy. After some time fussing with Nate’s three sticks of Peak Performance, she mixed a new solution, then applied a jet stamp to Nate and sealed it with her new concoction.

  “There we go,” Tallah pronounced. “All four of your little soldiers are geared up as requested.”

  “Pleasure as always,” Cleon said.

  “If you say so, Mr. Cleon,” Tallah replied. Her expression sobered. “You kids take care what you bring out of the Devil’s Mountain.”

  “And you be careful what spews from that mouth of yours,” Cleon cautioned. “Come on, Jets. You have appointments to keep.”

  While Tallah looked on, Cleon ushered the kids into the hall. Nate watched Tallah as he walked out. She appeared worried. She looked like she wanted to cry out a warning. But she didn’t, and the door closed.

  “Are we out of here?” Chris asked.

  “Not so fast,” Cleon said. “Three of you had the opportunity to meet with Mr. White. But not Nate. The boss wants to have words with him before you all depart.”

  “Okay,” Nate said, hoping he sounded casual. “No problem.”

  “I’m relieved to have your permission,” Cleon drawled. “Come on, Mr. Gum Jet. The boss is this way.”

  Cleon led the four Jets down a hall and around a corner. They found the muscular guy with black spiky hair coming toward them.

  “Hey there, Conner,” Cleon said.

  “I’ll take Nate from here,” Conner said stonily. “You get the others to the vehicle.”

  “Sure thing,” Cleon said. “Come on, you three.”

  Cleon did an about-face and led the others back the way they had come. Without acknowledging Nate, Conner reversed his direction as well. Nate followed.

  Nate had seen Conner before but had never spoken to him. “You guys have a lovely underground base here,” he tried.

  Conner said nothing.

  “I love what you’ve done with the concrete. Very parking garage.”

  Conner kept strutting down the hall without a backward glance. They passed an intersection. Nate felt tempted to take a side hall, just to make Conner react. But he didn’t want to stir things up too much. If he got dropped from the mission to recover Uweya, his last chance to stop Jonas White would be gone. He had reason to hope he would be included. Tallah had stamped him. They wouldn’t restamp him just to drop him from the mission, right?

  “Have you worked here long?” Nate asked.

  Again Conner neglected to respond. Nate decided not to press him further.

  After more walking, Conner stopped to open a sturdy door. He motioned for Nate to go through, then followed, pushing the door closed.

  They had entered a rather bare room divided by a thick, clear wall with sm
all clusters of holes in it. On the far side of the wall, Jonas White sat in a high-backed armchair. Conner took up a position behind Nate.

  “Kind of you to join us,” Jonas said silkily. “We missed you last night. You had other engagements, I take it?”

  “I was tired,” Nate said. “It was a long day.”

  “Too long to join your fellow Jets when they returned the Protector? Too long to confirm your victory?”

  “It was already confirmed,” Nate said. “Chris and Risa went ahead with the Protector. We left the Tanks treading water. It was a rough day. People almost died.”

  “I noticed that you removed your tracking bracelet,” Jonas said.

  “The task was finished,” Nate replied. “It was uncomfortable.”

  “I don’t like children, Nate. I never have.”

  “I can tell,” Nate said. “Hole eight on your western course is practically impossible. I was putting on it with Chris and Risa the other day, and—”

  Jonas held up a weary hand, motioning for him to stop. “Children have underdeveloped judgment. They say foolish things. They do foolish things. They bore me. They disappoint me.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I sometimes feel the same way about adults.”

  “I expect you do,” Jonas said. He gestured at the clear wall. “Please forgive the inconvenience of this barrier. Recent events have inspired me to take additional precautions. What little faith I had in you is fading.”

  “I keep delivering what you want.”

  “You have a vital task ahead of you. A hazardous task. Dangerous for you, dangerous for the other Jets. This task means a lot to me, Nate. It means everything. And I don’t trust you.”

  “Then why send me?”

  “For the assignment to recover the Protector, the Tanks had the advantage. If I were to have gambled on the outcome, I would have bet on them. Given the variables involved, their speed and strength should have outclassed your aeronautic and aquatic abilities. You had the means to raise the trunk from the tower, but they had the means to extract the Protector and keep it from you. I need capable people, Nate, and you have proven yourself the most capable.”

  “We almost killed Roman taking the Protector from him,” Nate said. “It was a close one.”

  “I may not like children,” Jonas said, “but I can admire ruthless dedication to victory. You will open the way to Uweya for me.”

  “Count on it.”

  “I know that you are not my ally. But you should be. Do not tangle with a man who has a simulacrum of you. Foolish child or not, you ought to learn that lesson before it is too late.”

  “Fighting you would be crazy,” Nate said.

  “It would be futile,” Jonas assured him. “The other Jets look to you for leadership. They expect you to join them on this mission. I want you to join them as well. But I want you to understand what will happen should you attempt to cross me.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I have simulacra of them, too,” Jonas reminded him. “And you know I currently hold Trevor here, and Pigeon, as well as Victor Battiato, John Dart, and the illustrious Mozag. Cross me, and they all perish, Nate. I’ve killed before. I won’t hesitate. Are we clear?”

  Nate felt stunned by the man’s bluntness. He nodded weakly.

  “Serve me well and you’ll be rewarded,” Jonas said. “Do I keep my promises, Conner?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jonas gave a sickly smile. “It’s important to keep your promises when dealing with mercenaries. My word matters to me for many reasons. For example, I set rules to the contest between the clubs. The Jets won the contest, therefore the Jets will retrieve Uweya.”

  “Makes sense,” Nate said.

  “Once I have Uweya,” Jonas continued, “you and your friends will no longer be threats to me. Serve me well, and you will all go free. Your families will be spared. Even though you never had my best interests at heart, I’ll reward you. Defy me, and it’s not just your own life you’re gambling with, Nate.”

  “I get it,” Nate said. “I’m not crazy.”

  Jonas wagged a finger. “Yet children sometimes do crazy things.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Very well, Nate. Off you go. Serve me well. Fetch Uweya. Your friends are depending on you.”

  “I understand.”

  Conner opened the door.

  Nate jerked a thumb at Conner. “In the interest of employee feedback, this guy needs to work on his people skills.”

  “Conner wasn’t hired to do customer service,” Jonas said around a smirk.

  Nate followed Conner out of the room.

  *****

  The SUV climbed a steep, rutted dirt road that made Nate cling to the door for support. Cleon drove. A small woman named Jeanine rode shotgun. Seat belts fastened, Nate, Lindy, and Risa sat on the bench behind them. Chris reclined in the far back.

  The SUV rocked and reared over the challenging road. A couple of times Nate thought they were going to tip over. In her middle position on the bench, Lindy flopped from one side to the other with all of the jostling.

  “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Nate asked.

  “Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little bump or two,” Cleon replied.

  “What happened to the regular drivers?” Lindy asked. “The guys you used to cart around the other clubs?”

  “This mission is too sensitive for anyone but family,” Cleon said with a grin.

  A particularly strong jolt sent a shockwave through Nate’s spine. “We might have a hard time getting Uweya if we’re paralyzed,” he complained.

  “This is nothing,” Cleon said. “You’re just used to driving like city kids. You need more off-roading in your life. It’s good for the soul.”

  “But not the spine,” Nate muttered.

  They continued to climb the shoulder of Mt. Diablo. The sun was now well above the horizon. Cleon had said that due to the daylight, he was under orders to escort everyone to their destination instead of letting them fly.

  “You guys found a tunnel last night?” Nate asked. Cleon had not yet fully explained.

  Cleon yawned, his fillings visible in the rearview mirror. “I deserve a big, fat nap after all of this is done. So does Jeanine. Those in the know have searched for an entrance to Mt. Diablo for years. Several of the mines in the region secretly had that as a goal. But everybody dug too low.”

  “Are we going to the top?” Lindy wondered.

  “Closer to the top than you might have guessed. See, if you drop the Protector, he always falls facing the direction to Uweya. We spent much of the night fumbling in the dark. In the end, we found the entrance.”

  “Where are the Gate and the Protector now?” Nate asked. “We’ll still need them, won’t we?”

  “They’re up ahead, ready and waiting,” Cleon said. “We left them there last night. Figured it beat losing them in a hijacking today. Mr. White likes to play it safe.”

  The SUV continued up the mountainside. From time to time, with a rough shake and the grinding of metal, the SUV would get high centered and become immobile. Cleon would look over at Jeanine, who would close her eyes and make the SUV wobble until the wheels got traction. Nate assumed she must be the Crusher Ziggy had mentioned.

  At length they reached a steep, rocky point where the SUV could proceed no farther. Cleon killed the engine and got out of the vehicle. The others climbed out as well.

  Cleon stood with his hands on his hips, teeth bared as he glared up the slope. “We’re not too far from the entrance. A little hike might do us some good.”

  Nate levitated a few inches off the ground. “Do you some good,” he corrected. “Daylight or not, I don’t see anyone around, so I’m saving my strength.”

  “Kid has a point,” Jeanine said, her voice a bit huskier than Nate would have predicted. She rose half a foot off the ground. “It’ll cost me less exertion to float there than to walk.”

  “How about floating me?” Cleon suggested.

 
; Jeanine arched an eyebrow. “Drop a few pounds and we’ll talk.”

  Cleon pressed his lips together, as if biting back a sharp reply. He nodded, rubbed his lips, and started plodding up the long slope. The others hovered around him like a flock of ghosts.

  Risa drifted over to Jeanine. “You can fly?”

  Jeanine considered her coolly, but answered. “In a sense. I can do tricks with gravity that enable me to float.”

  “Why not fly Cleon?” Chris asked. “Is he really too heavy?”

  “Messing with gravity takes finesse,” Jeanine said. “I’ve learned to float myself efficiently through lots of practice. Floating others requires more energy and concentration.”

  “You were making the car float back there?” Lindy inquired.

  “I was shifting gravity enough to let us get traction,” Jeanine explained. “Lifting the entire SUV would wipe me out before long.”

  “Do you really want to specify your limits?” Cleon huffed.

  “Are you really out of breath already? You need to slow down on the ribs and nachos.”

  Nate tried to choke back his laughter. Muffled giggles surrounded him.

  “Yuck it up,” Cleon complained. “We’ll see how funny old Cleon is once the trouble starts under the mountain.”

  “If we’re attacked by corn dogs,” Jeanine said with a straight face, “our enemies will be doomed.”

  As they progressed up the slope, the observation tower atop Mt. Diablo came into view above them. Nate had once enjoyed the view from the solid structure on a day trip with his family. It had never crossed his mind that he might be close to an ancient magical treasure.

  Cleon paused, staring up at the observation tower and wiping sweat from his brow. “Folks might be able to see us. You freaks might want to get back down on the ground.”

  “That building is still a long ways off,” Jeanine protested. “No way can anyone see the six inches between my toes and the ground. I know misery loves company, Cleon, but we’re going to keep hovering. Pick up the pace if you can. Boss wanted this accomplished today.”

  Grumbling angry words under his breath, Cleon sped up a little. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of his feet.