The Ables (22 page)

“Don’t mind him. Please continue,” I asked, not wanting to get on her bad side while she was giving away free SuperSim information.

“City Hall, the school, the public library, residential homes, and a handful of other locations that are guarded but that I can’t mention.”

She’d just made our decision for us. “I guess we know where we’re going, then, eh, boys?”

A round of dejected affirmatives came back. We all started moving back toward the street as Mrs. Foster floated lightly back up into the sky without a noise. “Good luck,” she called softly as she went.

“So we come up with a killer list of amazing possible targets, and from that list of five, we’re already down to one?” Henry wheeled toward James as the rest of us moved in as well.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” I confirmed.

“That sucks!”

“Okay, James.”

Ooph!

We arrived at the Chevy dealership to find it deserted. Bright lights shone all around from above, illuminating the flashy vehicles in case that random late-night car buyer should come by. You could hear the hum of the lights, but nothing else.

“It’s empty,” Bentley declared, dejected. “I thought for sure there’d be a criminal here.”

“Maybe there was,” Henry said, “only they already got caught.”

“I don’t see any signs of that kind of thing,” Bentley said. Henry glanced at him, which allowed me to see how intently Bentley was looking around.

“Maybe we should hide,” Freddie suggested with a bit of excitement.

“What?” Henry asked.

“You know, in case the criminals haven’t been here yet, so we can jump out and catch them when they show up.”

“That’s a great plan,” came the expected sarcastic response from Henry. “Let’s spend the rest of this stupid SuperSim, in which we’ve accomplished nothing, hiding behind some cars and waiting!” By the end of his rant, he was nearly yelling. It was probably a step or two too far.

“Hey,” I shot at Henry. “Take it easy.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just … a really dumb idea.”

“I said, take it
easy
!”

“You take it
easy
,” he called back.

“Guys …” Bentley tried to step in.

“Why do you have to be such a jerk all the time?”

“Guys.” Bentley tried again, a bit louder.

“Why do you have to be so stupid all the time?” Henry had perfected a high-pitched imitation voice.

“That’s really mature, Henry.”

“
Guys!
”

“You wanna see mature?”

My vision suddenly disappeared. “What?” It took a moment for my brain to recover from the shock of losing it, but then I knew instantly what had happened. “Yep,” I said angrily, “you were right. That was even more mature. You want a diaper change now, too?”

“Don’t think I won’t kick your ass just because you’re blind.”

“Don’t think I won’t just push you down a big hill just because you’re in a wheelchair.”

“Will you shut up?!” I didn’t know Bentley had that kind of power in his voice, but that was a certified shout. And it worked. Both Henry and I instantly clammed up, stammering in surprise.

Before anyone could speak another word, we heard a muffled crash somewhere in the distance. Instinctively, we all scurried behind the nearest car we could find to hide. Whether he realized it or not, Henry started sending me images again, so I got to piggyback on his vision when he leaned around the back of the car to take a look down the street.

I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I saw a couple houses, a vacant lot, and down at the end of the block … the Freepoint Library. Henry looked to his right, at me and the rest of the gang. “What
was
that?” he whispered.

I shrugged, and so did Bentley.

“Was it a car crash?”

“I didn’t hear any squealing tires or anything like that,” I said.

“Quiet,” Bentley barked. “It might happen again.”

For several seconds, each of us peeked over and around the mid-size red Chevy sedan, straining to see and hear something we weren’t even sure was coming. But then, just as I was about to give up, another crash.

This time, since we’d been paying attention, we could tell it was coming from the library. There’d even been a quick flash of light along the southwest windows right when the crash occurred, and the sound had definitely come from that direction.

“That’s not right,” I said.

“That came from the library, didn’t it?” James inquired.

“It did,” Bentley confirmed.

“That’s not right,” I repeated. “That shouldn’t be happening, right?”

“I think the library is off limits too, guys.” Henry said. “Whatever’s going on in there, it’s not part of the SuperSim, okay?”

My reply was admittedly simple. “So?”

“So, what,” Henry retorted. “We can’t score any points in there, man; it’s a dead end, like everything else we’ve investigated tonight.”

“Who cares about scoring points? What if there’s really something shady going on in there?” I was intrigued by the possibility of an actual crime being committed. I wasn’t scared by it, though I probably should have been.

“Even more reason to go the opposite direction, Phillip. Are you crazy? We’re not crime-fighters. If there’s an honest-to-God villain in there, he’d have a tougher time facing an army of kittens.”

“All the adults are wrapped up in the SuperSim. If someone’s in there stealing something or whatever, they’ll never know about it.”

“Phillip, in case you haven’t noticed, we can’t even catch a pretend criminal. We suck. We’re little freaking kids! The SuperSim was one thing, but now you want to try and fight actual crime?”

“I have to side with Henry on this one,” Bentley said, somewhat reluctantly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea at all. Firstly, it’s against the rules to go in there. Secondly, there’s probably not a crime … the janitor probably just spilled his mop bucket or something silly, and then we’d get in even more trouble for going in.”

“I’m not talking about fighting crime or catching any criminals or anything. I’m just talking about … investigating. Checking it out a little … seeing if we can learn more information about whatever might be going on. You gotta admit you’re curious, aren’t you? Imagine how we’d look if we brought back a lead on a real crime in progress instead of a bunch of teachers in costumes.”

In a bit of perfect timing from the universe, another loud crash sounded out, along with another flash of light.

I turned to Bentley to plead my case. “That ain’t no mop bucket, Bentley.”

He turned to Henry, then back to me. “We’re not going over there, Phillip. It’s a very, very bad idea.”

“Shh. Be quiet,” I mouthed, pointing at my teammate’s shoes. The huge marble hallways would echo any sound we made.

It was only James, Henry, and me. I would have gone alone, but I needed James to get me inside without using the front door and Henry to let me see where I was going once I got there.

This is a very, very bad idea, Phillip.
Henry had taken more arm-twisting than James, mostly because he was a big baby.

Shut up. I can’t concentrate on listening if you’re going to be prattling on in my head.

The hallway was empty, with a series of dim orange lights around the edge of where the ceiling met the walls. At the end of the great hallway was a door, partly ajar, with a small light shining through the crack. The building seemed a few degrees warmer than it should be, which I assumed meant they had the thermostat set higher for the overnight hours.

We crept a few paces very slowly and with surprisingly little noise considering two of us were blind and one was in a wheelchair. It helped that the central hallway of the Freepoint Library was wide, and aside from an information desk in the very center, mostly empty. The main hallway ran approximately 120 feet or so, with various sections of the library—young adult, non-fiction, etc.—in spacious side rooms branching off here and there.

We’d been to the library a few times since moving to Freepoint, and I always enjoyed it. It had a more official, stately feel as a building, with two-story-high ceilings and expensive marble floors. The acoustics reminded me of some of the Smithsonian museums we’d visited on our trip to Washington, DC.

Now that we were actually inside the building, we could hear more noises coming from the southeast corner, including a few muffled voices. James, Henry, and I stood as silently as possible, straining to hear more detail in the far-off noise. Bentley and the others remained outside, hiding in the bushes keeping a lookout in case the bad guys made a break for it.

I took a couple soft steps forward. I could make out male voices only, but there were at least three distinct individuals talking.

If these aren’t SuperSim villains, that means they’re regular criminals, Phillip!

I’m aware! I just want to get close enough to hear a little better.

That’s funny. I don’t want to get any closer at all. I actually wouldn’t mind getting a little further away.

Shut up!

Another crash, only far louder now that we were inside the building. The rooms off the main hall could be quite large, with a patchwork of their own side rooms and hallways. There was no way to tell where inside that section the intruders actually were.

Who would wanna break into the library? What are they doing?!
I couldn’t fathom any criminal activity in a place like this that would require something so loud.

Without any warning or indication anything was imminent, I lost my vision completely. It was there one second, then gone the next, replaced by the same black nothing I’d been staring at my entire life.

Henry, what did I do now? Why’d you stop sending me images?

Um … I didn’t, Phillip. The lights just went out.

But why would the lights—

Footsteps. Unmistakable on marble floors such as these, and from the sound of it, coming from the doorway at the end of the hall. Click-clop, click-clop. The heel-then-toe rhythm continued for several paces until it reached a point that had to be near the unmanned information desk. Then … nothing. For a handful of seconds, I couldn’t even hear anyone breathing besides the three of us kids. Usually, I can hear all sorts of things people think are silent.

We were frozen in place partway down the hall but still a good fifty feet or more from the sound of the last footsteps.

Who is that?

How the heck should I know, Henry? Just stay still! Maybe he heard something and came to check on it.

Click-clop, click-clop, click-clop. The steps suddenly picked up where they’d left off … and at a faster pace.

We’re gonna die. Oh my God, we’re all gonna die!!

Calm down, Henry, I’m trying to think.

Click-clop, click-clop, click-clop, click-clop.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.
Henry’s tough talk had melted into fearful blubbering in a matter of seconds, and all it took were a few footsteps.

Click-clop, click-clop, click-clop, click-clop. The figure drew closer and closer. I began to think he might walk straight through us, until …

“Stop where you are!”

I wasn’t sure where it had come from. I mean … I knew I was the one who’d said it, but I wasn’t sure from which of the unexplored recesses down inside me it had come. It was a reaction, to be sure, and not born out of rational thinking. The eighty-five pound weakling in me knew better than to challenge unseen adversaries during a break-in. I regretted it as soon as I’d said it, but it was obviously too late.

The footsteps slid to an abrupt stop mid-step, then settled as the unknown figure adjusted to hearing my command.

I honestly didn’t know if it was a man, woman, or werewolf, though I was at least finally close enough to hear the intruder’s breathing. As we stood there exposed in the dark by my actions, my mind began to race through all the terrible individuals this could potentially be in front of us. After all, the SuperSim villains simply wouldn’t be here. This had to be a real bad person of some kind, committing a real crime in a superhero town. And I’d gone from “just scoping things out” to direct confrontation with astonishing speed.

What the hell did you do that for?
Henry seethed.

Well, to try and stop him, I guess. It worked, didn’t it?

Well, now what do we do?

Why don’t we just leave?
It was James, with a helpful thought that none of us really expected an answer to, at least not from our assailant.

“Because then we’d never have the chance to get acquainted with one another, young James.”

It was a man, and an older one at that, easily over fifty or sixty. His voice was warm and he spoke with confidence. Prim and proper … almost a bit like a British accent, actually.

A quick scratching noise was followed by a bright flash of light, which dulled considerably right away. The light pulsed slightly as the man drew smoke from his pipe. The orange glow illuminated just enough of his face to assure me he was not, in fact, a werewolf.

He puffed a few times while the three of us stood there actively trying to avoid soiling our pants. In addition to surprising us by speaking, he’d also managed to read our minds.

His pipe finally lit, he continued speaking as his right hand shook the match in the air to put it out. “And I do so hate missing the opportunity to meet new people such as yourselves.” He puffed twice more and said, “Shall we have some light, then?”

The hallway lights instantly returned to full strength, blinding us all in the process for a moment—well, blinding Henry at least. When he finally blinked the white spots away, what we saw before us was one of the least scary men I’d ever seen except for the scar.

From top to bottom, a hideous scar split his face, rippling with texture and disgusting detail. It was as though something had cut his face in two, pulled the halves apart by a couple inches, and then froze everything in place. Other than that admittedly large detail, he looked like any other ordinary old man.