Leapholes (2006) (29 page)

Abigail said, "We need to get Hannah out of town. This is getting too dangerous."

"But I can't leave Springfield until I find that leaphole."

"That's impossible. The minute you show your face on the streets, that federal marshal is going to arrest you for aiding
a r
unaway slave."

Ryan knew she was right. Jarvis had totally fixed the race in his favor. Then something occurred to him. "I need a lawyer," he said.

"I don't see what good that'll do you. That marshal took a bribe. The best lawyer in the country couldn't keep him from arresting you."

"That's not why I need to find a lawyer. I was thinking about Hezekiah's clue. He said go to Springfield and look for a stovepipe. Then we'll find a leaphole. But maybe we've got it backwards."

"What do you mean?"

"The only person who would have a leaphole is a Legal Eagle. We should find the best lawyer in town, and then look for the stovepipe."

"How do find the best lawyer?" said Abigail.

"Reputation, I guess."

Abigail considered it. "There's only one lawyer I've ever heard of from Springfield. He!s pretty well known. Three years ago he ran for U
. S
. Senate."

"Did he win?"

"No. But he bounced right back and sought his party's nomination for vice president at last year's national convention."

"Did he get it?"

"Actually, he got clobbered."

"Doesn't sound like much of a Legal Eagle to me."

"Oh, but he's real well liked, especially by folks who are against slavery. I believe his office is right above the federal courthouse. His name is--"

"Ryan Coolidge, you're under arrest," said the federal marshal at the end of the alley. Jarvis was standing right beside him. The marshal's uniform was still covered with jam, but he also had a gun. It was aimed right at Ryan.

"I thought your name was L'new," Abigail whispered through her teeth.

"That's a whole 'nother story," Ryan replied.

The marshal jerked his gun forward. "Quiet! Put your hands up over your head."

Ryan and Abigail raised their hands, but Ryan didn't keep quiet. "Is this your idea of justice, Marshal? Arresting people on bogus charges for a bagful of silver?"

The marshal's face was suddenly as red as his jam-smeared shirt. "What--uh. What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid with us," said Abigail. "We saw you take that bribe from Jarvis."

"That's right," said Ryan. "And the whole world is going to know about it, too. Unless you're prepared to gun us both down, right now."

Abigail cast a sideways glance, then whispered, "Not sure I would have put it quite that way, Ryan."

"Shoot them," said Jarvis.

"Now wait just a minute," said the marshal.

"You gotta shoot 'em. You just heard that little weasel say he was going to tell everyone about the bribe. Shoot him!"

"I can't just shoot a boy and a woman in cold blood."

"Then give me the gun. I'll do it."

Ryan said, "Have you gone crazy, Jarvis? Why do you hate me so much? I never did anything to you."

"Never did anything?" said Jarvis, groaning. "You are so clueless. For seventeen years I was a loyal apprentice. I did everything Hezekiah ever asked me to do. I studied, I worked overtime. I was just counting the days until Hezekiah would retire and name me his replacement. And then what does that ingrate do in the end? He says I'm not Legal Eagle material. He decides he's going to pass the baton to some school kid named Ryan."

"That wasn't my fault," said Ryan.

"I don't care whose fault it was." Jarvis turned to the marshal and said, "Now, give me that gun."

"No," said the marshal.

"Give it to me, or I'll take it from you."

The marshal pulled back. "I'm not getting involved in your jealous game of revenge."

Jarvis was suddenly on top of the Marshal like a T-Rex on lunch. Abigail screamed as the two men wrestled to the ground. They were punching and kicking, each trying to control the gun. Ryan started left and then right, but no matter which direction he moved, the gun seemed to be pointing right at him.

"Ryan, run for it!" shouted Abigail.

"I can't just leave you!" said Ryan.

"Go! You've already kept your promise to Hezekiah. I can take Hannah and her baby from here. It only gets easier as we go north."

Jarvis and the marshal were still locked in a wresting match. Ryan caught Abigail's eye, and he wished there were time for a proper goodbye. But there wasn't.

"Just git!" shouted Abigail.

Without another word, Ryan sprinted past Jarvis and the marshal. He burst from the tight alley as if it were the last day of school, and he hit the street at full speed. He wasn't sure where he was headed. Abigail had never said the name of that well-known lawyer from Springfield. But she did mention where his office was.

At the corner, Ryan stopped a well-to-do gentleman who was dressed smartly in a business suit. "Sir, can you tell me where the federal courthouse is?"

"Yes, of course. It's in the Tinsley Building. That redbrick building on the next corner."

Ryan could see it from where they were standing. He smiled a little, but then he glanced back toward the alley, and his excitement faded.

Jarvis emerged from the alley, the apparent victor in the battle with the marshal.

A half-second later, the marshal stumbled into the street and took aim with his revolver. "Stop, or I'll shoot!"

Jarvis kept running. The marshal was ready to squeeze off a shot, but a stagecoach rolled past, followed by a wagon. "He's got a gun!" shouted someone, which sent screaming pedestrians scurrying in every direction. There was too much traffic to let bullets fly, too high a risk of hitting innocent bystanders. The marshal gave chase on foot.

Ryan dashed off toward the Tinsley Building. This was his only chance to escape. He was betting everything on the hope that the best lawyer in town was a Legal Eagle. All he had to do then was find the stovepipe. His focus was on the building, totally on the redbrick building.

He didn't see the horse-drawn carriage coming from his right.

The horses neighed and the carriage twisted. It wasn't a direct hit, but Ryan took a hard tumble and landed face down in the street. He pushed himself up and shook off the dizziness. Jarvis was barreling down on him. Ryan turned and ran as fast as he could, but Jarvis was gaining ground. The gap closed to within two steps. He could hear Jarvis breathing heavily behind him. Ryan did a gut-check, reached inside for the afterburners, and started to pull away.

Just ahead, the sign on the door read Law Office. Ryan knew that he was in the right place. Courtesy dictated a knock, but he couldn't let Jarvis catch up. The door was unlocked, and Ryan burst inside. A man rose from his desk and said, "Can I help you, son?"

"I'm looking for a lawyer."

"This is the courthouse entrance. The law office is on the third floor."

Before Ryan could thank him, the door floor open. Jarvis entered with a flurry. Ryan scurried up the tight wooden stairwell. He whipped around the turn at the second floor. He was halfway up the stairs to the third when he felt the firm grasp of a huge hand around his ankle. Jarvis had him.

Ryan kicked like a mule, which sent Jarvis tumbling back down the stairs. He landed with a crash at the bottom step. At the top of the staircase, a door opened. Standing in the doorway was a very tall, thin-faced man.

"What's all the noise out here?" he said.

Ryan climbed to the top of the steps, and salvation came into view. Resting on a chair in the foyer next to the man's coat was a black hat. It was a tall, thin hat. A stovepipe hat.

Ryan took a good look at the man. He was clean shaven, which confused Ryan for a moment. But then he remembered that the beard had come only after the presidential inauguration. "You're Abraham Lincoln," said Ryan.

"Yes, I am. And who are you?"

Ryan grinned and said, "I'm the happiest person on earth."

Jarvis was charging back up the stairs. "Stop that kid! He's a lawbreaker."

Ryan had no time to explain, almost no time to think. Lincoln's hat was resting on the chair. Its opening was round and black and seemingly bottomless--just like the open end of the leapholes in Hezekiah's jar back at his office. Ryan dug into his pocket for the spent leaphole--the one that had brought him from Hezekiah's office to St. Louis. He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, but he remembered that Kaylee had used her spent leaphole when activating a return leaphole. It was the only way back to the starting point.

Jarvis was just three steps away when he dove for Ryan's ankles. On impulse, Ryan lunged toward the hat. As he soared across the threshold, a seed of doubt sprouted in his mind. What if this doesn't work? But his thoughts turned to Hezekiah and the old legend of the rainmaker's shackle, and all doubt evaporated. He buried his hand in the hat's opening. The power pulsated in his hand. Like lightening, it surged up his arm and throughout his entire body. Perhaps it was the power of Lincoln's leaphole. Or perhaps it was just the urgency of the situation. In a single flash of orange light, Ryan was sucked into the opening without delay.

The futile cries from Jarvis were just an echo in the distance. "Ryan Coolidge, don't you dare leave me here!"

Right away, Ryan realized that this was no ordinary leaphole. This had to be some kind of supercharged, highspeed reverse legal leaphole. It was only befitting of one of the most courageous lawyers the world had ever known. At first, he experienced only the intense vibration of forward motion, as if he were being launched into another universe. Wind and heat caressed his cheeks, a surge of pure energy. The blinding light ahead was like staring straight into a spotlight. The noise was as deafening as a freight train. In fact, he could hear the clacking of iron wheels on rails. The noise grew louder and louder. The oncoming spotlight became more and more intense. Around him, outside the beam of light, there was only darkness. It was as if he were speeding through a tunnel. Suddenly, he heard the familiar steam whistle of a locomotive. He was on a train. This was indeed a railroad, and then Ryan realized what was happening.

The leaphole had found a real underground railroad.

The steam whistle blew again. The locomotive sped off even faster. Ryan was hanging on by his fingertips for a spectacular journey. In a flash, the train whipped through th
e n
ineteenth century. Snippets of history flashed in the darkness. It was all happening so quickly that Ryan could barely process the images, but he recognized some things. He saw soldiers falling as men in blue and gray uniforms clashed at Gettysburg. Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders were charging up San Juan Hill. With another flash, he was suddenly into the twentieth century, passing the Wright Brothers and their first airplane.

Then, in an even bigger flash, the sounds of the old steam locomotive gave way to the rumble of an even greater force. It hardly seemed possible, but the speed intensified. Ryan was aboard a roaring diesel engine. He could barely hold on as he zipped past the horrors of war in Europe and the Pacific. He sailed over a sea of civil-rights marchers on the Washington Mall, and then past the space shuttle on its journey to outer space. Ryan was both frightened and exhilarated. In some ways, he didn't want the trip to end. But he could feel the train gathering momentum. He braced himself for something even faster than diesel.

Finally, he was hanging on for dear life on a speeding bullet train, barreling toward home in the twenty-first century.

Chapter
35

Ryan landed in Hezekiah's law office. Hard.

"Man, I need to work on those landings," he said to himself as he massaged the pain out of his tail bone.

Hezekiah's office was even more of a shambles than Ryan had remembered. The beginnings were such a blur to him. He remembered the SWAT team invasion, but it had happened so fast. There had been no time to assess the damage before he and Jarvis took the leaphole to the nineteenth century. As he looked around the room, he was seeing for the first time the mess they had left behind. Nearly every bookshelf was down. Several lamps were broken. Chairs were overturned. Countless case books lay scattered across the room.

Ryan picked himself up from the carpet and walked slowly to Hezekiah's study area. He sorted through the jumble of books atop the table. The old one from 1857--the one that contained the Dred Scott decision--was missing, which was no surprise. Kaylee had brought the book with her to nineteenth-century Missouri. But if she was now back in the twenty-first century, why hadn't she returned it?

If she was back. That was the question.

Hezekiah had seemed confident that Kaylee would return safely to the twenty-first century. Only Ryan and the others had been thrown off course into Illinois when Jarvis broke the human chain. But what if she, too, had been thrown off course? Was it possible that she'd landed somewhere between 1857 and the twenty-first century? It was a disturbing thought. If she had fallen short on her return, that meant she was still out there, somewhere, God only knew where--without a leaphole.