Authors: Gini Koch
C
OULD ONLY THINK OF
one thing to say. “Well, that’s another fine mess we’ve gotten into.”
“Kitty, they’re calling for you, Jeff, Paul, and James. Everyone wants a statement.”
“Serene, my current statement is ‘help, help, we’re all trapped in quicksand about to be trampled by a stampede of javelinas.’ I don’t think that’s the statement we want going out to the world, but I’d really like you, personally, to concentrate on it.”
“What are javelinas?”
“Peccaries. Wild not-really-pig-things. About the size of a Labrador. We have a lot of them heading toward us with intent to run right over us. And we’re stuck. In quicksand. Don’t ask how. Ask how you’re going to get us out of this.”
“There are a hundred if there are ten,” Tim said. “Frankly, there are probably two hundred at least. I’m officially panicked. Just so you know.”
“And we’re living Tim’s Greatest Fear because he saw
The Lion King
at an impressionable age, so, um, any help, Serene? Any at all?”
“Can’t Mahin get you out?”
Looked over. Mahin was clearly concentrating. Nothing was happening. “If she can, not in time.”
“I put Home Base on alert,” Christopher said, looking around. “No one’s coming.”
“Because this doesn’t look like anything dangerous to us, yet,” Reader said. “However, we have another issue, because I’m calling Home Base and no one’s answering.”
“Oh, fantastic. Serene, either their telecommunications is down, someone’s jamming them, or Home Base is once again under enemy control.”
“I’ll find out and call you back.”
“Wait—” But she’d already hung up. Slid my phone back into the back pocket of my jeans. “I think Serene’s doing something. Not sure what.”
“Can the Poofs move?” Tito asked.
Took a look. “Doesn’t look like it. But that may mean nothing. Harlie, can you all just get Kitty and everyone else out of here?”
A roar that ended in a mewl said that, no, they couldn’t. The Poofs were as stuck as we were. Considering nothing had stopped the Poofs before, this was the definition of “not good.”
“I can probably pull you out, baby,” Jeff said.
“Maybe, but that just means you’ll go down in the quicksand faster. We need a better plan. Or, better yet, planes. Tim! Call and scramble your team.”
“Already on it, but it’s going to take them a few minutes. They’re at Dulce, where we have no jets, and James locked down the Dome and all the gates before we came out here, just in case. So Serene’s having to reverse those orders and there’s protocol involved that takes more than a second, A-Cs or not.”
The men all got onto their phones, since we had no other options. No one’s calls sounded like they were achieving anything other than stress.
The princesses had their battle staffs activated. “Rahmi, Rhee, see if you can use the staffs to cut yourselves out of the quicksand.”
They tried, but pulled the staffs out of the sand quickly. “I could barely hold onto my staff,” Rhee said, sounding shocked.
“I as well. And our staffs seemed to have no negative effect on the quicksand, either,” Rahmi added.
Tried to see if any of us were near an edge. The quicksand looked slightly wetter and browner than the rest of the ground nearby. White was nearest to an edge, but the only chance he’d have to get out would be to fall over and try to grab the sand and salt and use that to pull himself out, meaning he’d get to suffocate nice and fast. Since we had no convenient trees with branches or vines hanging down just within our reach, pulling ourselves out was a non-option.
The princesses’ battle staffs were just too short to reach an edge. There was no way any of this was a random happenstance.
Had to hand it to whoever had set this up—they’d rolled with the punches exceptionally well, or else this was always part of the plan. And it might have been, since Stephanie had felt confident she was still important.
How they’d created quicksand right where we were and when they wanted it, quicksand that Beta Twelve battle staffs couldn’t hurt and could also hold the Poofs captive, was beyond me. However, LaRue had come back from the far reaches of space with Poof traps, most likely courtesy of the Z’porrah. So far, those traps were the only things the Poofs were helpless against, but one thing that could hurt the Poofs was one thing too many.
It was a good bet that whatever was creating the quicksand had the same element or whatever it was added into the mix. And it was an equally good bet that someone at Gaultier Enterprises, Titan Security, or even possibly YatesCorp were involved in the creation of whatever this actually was that we were all trapped in.
But what and who had created whatever was holding us wasn’t important now. Getting out of this unscathed or with minimal scathing was.
“Mahin, any luck?”
“No, but I think . . . I think his talent is helped by the vibrations. If we can get the animals to stop running, I can probably free us.”
“That’s the thing, isn’t it?”
The Poofs were clearly really stuck, because they weren’t moving, but were instead roaring. That was probably increasing the vibrations but I wanted the Poofs to stay large because if they went small they’d go under the quicksand in a matter of moments. Plus I also wanted them able to eat the javelinas if necessary.
Especially since I could see the javelinas clearly without binoculars. They were still far away, but the dune buggy was making sure to herd them toward us, and they wouldn’t be far away for too much longer. Time to call in reinforcements.
Concentrated. I had no idea where they were, but hoped that our bond worked over long distances.
Jeff grabbed my hand. “Hang on, baby. I don’t care if I sink, I’m getting you out of here.”
Opened my mouth to tell him no, but instead of words, a cacophony of screeching came out. Fortunately, this stopped Jeff. Also fortunately, it wasn’t me making the noise.
The Peregrines had arrived.
W
E HAD TWELVE MATED PAIRS,
and all twenty-four birds showed up, making an avian line between us and the javelinas, in front of the Poofs and princesses, Bird Shrieks on Maximum, claws forward in full-on Attack Mode, wings spread impressively.
The javelinas may have been mind controlled but they were still animals, and while they ate smaller animals as well as plants, they were prey for larger predators. And the Peregrines were doing their best to sound predatory, and twenty-four of them in one, big, screaming line looked pretty damn large. That combined with the Poofs and princesses with activated, glowing battle staffs behind them seemed to affect the javelinas more than their mind control.
The sounds of panicked squeals and gnashing tusks was combined with a lot of chaos, as the stampeding herd either went around us or tried to turn around.
“My God,” Tim said. “What’s that smell?”
“They’re also called the skunk pig. I’m just happy the smell isn’t commingling with our blood right now.” Gently pulled my hand out of Jeff’s—I didn’t want him doing something manly and protective right now, because it would likely get him and the rest of us smothered.
“I am happy about that,” Reader said as Tim gagged. “But the smell may kill us anyway.”
“We’re still trapped, with a lot of panicked animals around us,” Chuckie accurately pointed out. “Any ideas? We don’t have enough ammunition to kill them all, and I can guarantee the dune buggy’s going to stay out of the range of our guns.”
True enough, the dune buggy had stopped far enough away that I was pretty sure no handgun was going to hit it.
“Bruno, my bird, someone needs to stealth it over to that dune buggy and attack with intent to seriously maim!”
Two Peregrines disappeared—Bruno and his right-wing bird, Harold. Human screams added to the mix.
“Nice,” Tito said, as he tossed his medical bag to the side, so that it wasn’t in, or at risk of being in, the quicksand. “I’m going on record as a bad doctor because I don’t plan to patch them up.”
“That actually doesn’t sound like you,” Chuckie said.
“I’m the shortest. I suffocate in the quicksand first. Well, me and Kitty. I say they can bleed to death.”
“I’m with Tito. Mahin, any luck?”
She was concentrating, and making lifting motions with her hands. All of a sudden, her Poof shot up out of the quicksand and sailed over the javelinas.
This was great in that one Poof was free and it headed toward the dune buggy roaring like it was auditioning for Tim’s
Lion King
revival. Javelinas scattered in all directions, some toward us, most away. A couple got past Peregrines, Poofs, and princesses to get themselves stuck in the quicksand. Couldn’t pass judgment—we were stuck in the quicksand and we were supposedly a lot smarter.
Lifting the Poof free of the quicksand was bad, however, in that all of us sank down a little more. I was in the quicksand up to my calves.
“At this rate, Tito and Kitty will be underground, and Crawford and Reader might be too, White also, before enough of us are freed,” Chuckie said quickly. “Mahin, you can’t do that maneuver again.”
“She could free a few more before we’re in danger,” Reader suggested.
“One, if you’re up to it, Mahin,” Chuckie said.
“Why a Poof?” Christopher asked.
“They’re lighter.” Mahin concentrated and Harlie flew free. And the rest of us sank down a lot farther—Tito and I were in the quicksand at mid-thigh.
Harlie started chasing off javelinas, while the Peregrines continued to ensure most of the panicked animals went away from us and the princesses sent those who made it past the Peregrines flying with well aimed hits.
“That’s it, Mahin, no more, and that’s an order,” Chuckie said, Voice of C.I.A. Authority on Full. “We moved down farther the second time than the first. And before anyone wants to complain or suggest we try again, I can guarantee that I’ve done the math and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Only idiots argue with the smartest guy in the quicksand, Chuckie. But, why isn’t this quicksand stuff stopping? Animal Man appears to have lost control of the javelinas, so how is his companion keeping the concentration going under these circumstances?”
“Who says the driver is actually the one controlling the ground?” Jeff asked.
We all looked around as much as we could, which wasn’t all that much, because movement meant sinkage. We were all facing the oncoming herd, so northwest. Looking northeast to west was fairly simple. Looking south and southeast wasn’t, because the act of trying to turn and look over our shoulders sent us all a little bit lower.
Called the Peregrines over in my mind. They disengaged and flew to us. There were enough of them that, if they were strong enough, we could each grab a Peregrine’s feet and have them pull us out. Was about to ask them to try this when the quicksand under each bird shot up, wrapped around their feet, and pulled them down with us. The Peregrines screamed and struggled, but they were caught, too, just like the rest of us.
The Peregrine’s screams brought Bruno, Harold, and Fluffball back from their attack to try to help the other animals. This was a mistake, and before I could warn them to get away, more quicksand shot up and they were captured, too.
This left Harlie, only, out. I sent the Poof a mental message to stay back from the quicksand, which it did. So one small thing going right.
Now that their attackers were captured, the guys in the dune buggy revved it up and started gathering the javelinas again, clearly with intent to have them run us over, or at least add in weight to the quicksand so that we’d all sink more. Sure, this wasn’t acting like real quicksand should, but I was pretty damn sure it wasn’t real quicksand. Not that this knowledge helped us at all.
The latter option seemed to be the one, as more javelinas ran in and were quickly trapped. Their struggles meant they sank quickly, but they also caused the rest of us to get sucked down more, bit by bit.
Harlie went after the dune buggy, but the damage was still done. The guys in the dune buggy, seeing the enraged, giant Poof after them, turned tail and left. Harlie chased them for a ways, but then stopped suddenly and headed back to us. The dune buggy had either really revved it up or disappeared, because it wasn’t anywhere I could see anymore.
The javelinas were screaming for help. They weren’t to blame—they were just innocent animals being used by our enemies—they didn’t deserve to die, and certainly not like this.
Since having Jamie and getting all those reverse-genetic powers, the one thing I’d really learned was that, in danger situations, rage was my friend. Through all of this, all the weird and danger and worse that had gone on today, I hadn’t gotten enraged. Angry, sure, upset, worried, and so on, but not enraged.
But as I looked at the javelinas struggling in the quicksand and thought about the fact that, as usual, the bad guys were harming things weaker than themselves simply because they could, I felt the rage start. But I needed it to be a rage worthy of the term “berserker.”
Looked at the Poofs. They were trapped, too, and they were never trapped. That meant both that whoever was doing this had something truly extra under the hood, and also that my Poofs were probably terrified. The Peregrines were terrified for sure, based on their bird screams. And everyone else with me had to be frightened. Sure we’d all faced battle situations many times, but we were far more helpless right now than I could remember any of us being before.
All of this was probably to get Jamie, Patrick, and the other hybrid kids to time warp themselves over here to save us. Or it was just a plan to kill those of us here and then take care of everyone else who was conveniently herded into the Science Center. Or to get the Dome unlocked. Or other things I was too stressed out to come up with. The options were many. My options were few.
One of the javelinas made terrified eye contact with me and suddenly I could talk to it. Or rather, it could talk to me. And what it was saying in javelina was easy to decipher—it was terrified and asking me to save it somehow.
Tried to tell it and the other trapped javelinas to calm down, but even if they understood me, they were too close to going fully under to listen. Panic made animals stupid.
And we were animals, meaning I was probably being stupid. Rage was great. Thinking while enraged was better.
While some of us had long-range talent ability, most didn’t. And even if whoever was creating the quicksand did have talent that could be used from far, far away, he or she had to be close, because otherwise said sandshifter wouldn’t have been able to grab the Peregrines.
And there were rocks behind us. Rocks that were above the quicksand line.
“Jeff, Chuckie, Malcolm—I think whoever’s doing this is on the rocks behind us,” I said as softly as I could in order to be heard, which wasn’t as softly as I’d have liked. But I had to figure the animal screams would block a lot from whoever was doing this to us.
“That’d be great if we could get out or even turn around,” Jeff said in kind.
“I’ve managed to look behind us,” Buchanan replied, also quietly. “There’s no one there.”
“But we know someone who can make himself and anyone else he touches go invisible.” Did my best to relax and sent a message to Harlie. The Poof roared and raced behind us.
Because of how we were stuck in the quicksand, Jeff was on one side of me, Buchanan the other, and Chuckie was between me and Buchanan, a little behind us, but not so far back that he wasn’t in my safe viewing range.
So I was able to see that both Buchanan and Chuckie had their guns out, and, as Harlie raced behind us, I watched both men bend over quickly, so that they were looking upside down, between their legs.
Heard shouts and screams, from more than one person, and then both men fired their guns. While half upside down, and through their legs. If we all survived, the image would be one I could use when I needed a laugh. However, survival wasn’t a given at this time, so the Inner Hyena wasn’t at risk of coming out.
Both men cursed while the javelinas freaked out even more.
“Not sure if we hit anyone,” Chuckie said as they straightened up. “But if we did, no one’s visible.”
“We didn’t hit the Poof,” Buchanan added, before I could ask. Harlie stayed on the rock, growling.
Could have sworn I saw someone running and another shimmering off in the distance, but before I could really tell if it was Siler’s chameleon look or just wishful thinking, I was distracted by the princesses urgently calling my name.
“We are about to be under new attack,” Rhee called.
“We believe,” Rahmi amended, sounding worried. “Something is coming.”
“Now what?” I asked, undoubtedly speaking for everyone, as we all used the binoculars to see what they’d spotted.
Something new was heading down from the road in the mountains, the same road the dune buggy had come from. Only this made far less sense to be here than the dune buggy had. Spotted what might have been a shimmering behind it, but it disappeared before I could be sure.
“Is that what I think it is?” Tim asked.
“I’m not sure
what
I think that is,” Gower said.
“It’s something that really shouldn’t be here, not in this particular area. It’s a combine harvester. Used in farming. Which is not something Home Base is particularly noted for.”
And, of course, said combine—blades merrily spinning—was heading right for us.