The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe (5 page)

Victor approached the table, his plates heavy with meat. He stood aside so Pigeon could enter the booth next to Summer. Once the four kids were seated, Ziggy and Victor took their places at the ends.

Ziggy stared across at Victor’s plates. “I missed the bacon-wrapped turkey.”

“Which is why I brought enough for both of us,” Victor replied, giving some to his brother. “I told you not to rush. A good general surveys his battlefield.”

“I found good grub,” Ziggy said, trading plates with his brother.

“You guys take this pretty seriously,” Nate commented.

“This is our domain,” Ziggy said, indicating the room with his fork. “We were made for this.”

“Welcome to the big show,” Victor said, taking a large bite of prime rib.

“Not bad,” Ziggy said, licking his lips.

“Why don’t you get started so I can find out?” Victor complained.

“Wait,” Trevor asked, brow furrowed, “why does he have to start for you to find out?”

“And why did you guys switch plates?” Summer wondered.

“That’s an observant question,” Ziggy said, stabbing a chunk of bacon-wrapped turkey with his fork. He deposited the greasy morsel into his mouth.

Victor nodded appreciatively, then dabbed his lips with a napkin. “Our enemies know, so you can as well. Ziggy and I share an unusual connection. I taste only what he tastes and I smell only what he smells. The food I eat nourishes me, but he gets all the sensations.”

“Vice versa for me,” Ziggy said. “If I want to try the wings, Victor has to eat them.”

“Weird,” Pigeon said. “What about sight and hearing?”

“Thankfully we see and hear for ourselves,” Victor said. “Otherwise it would be complicated. We sometimes get brief glimpses of what the other sees or hears. Flashes.”

“But you can’t smell or taste for yourselves,” Pigeon said.

“Not a bit,” Ziggy said.

“It’s no picnic when he uses the restroom,” Victor confided.

“Hey,” Ziggy complained, waving his hands. “We’re trying to eat here!”

Nate had a tough time resisting the urge to laugh. He tried not to make eye contact with Summer, Trevor, or Pigeon; based on their muffled giggles, he figured it would only make him erupt.

Pigeon was the first to recover. “What about touch?” he asked.

“We feel pressure for ourselves,” Victor said, “but pain is like odors. The other guy senses it.”

“If I get injured,” Ziggy said, “my body suffers the damage, but he feels the pain.”

“Takes most of the fun out of punching him,” Victor remarked.

“We can also share certain physical attributes,” Ziggy said. “It’s hard to explain, easier to demonstrate. You’ll catch on.”

“We digress,” Victor said, taking a bite from a sparerib drenched in barbecue sauce. “The main event is being neglected.”

“Sorry,” Ziggy said. “Let’s take care of business. We’ll talk after.”

Both men plowed into their food, making the meat promptly disappear. They didn’t eat messily, but they didn’t waste much time, either. Skewers and bones were piled neatly. Nate wasn’t halfway through his fries before Victor and Ziggy were returning to the food counters.

“Those guys can eat,” Summer said.

“I feel bad for the owner,” Trevor said. “I have a feeling the Battiatos usually get more than they pay for at places like this.”

The brothers came back loaded up with Chinese food, including stir fry, pot stickers, egg rolls, and orange chicken. “Not much seafood,” Victor commented as they sat. “Too bad.”

“I saw some decent Italian,” Ziggy replied, switching plates with his brother.

“You don’t want the Italian in a joint like this,” Victor scolded.

“I’ll do meatballs and lasagna anywhere,” Ziggy replied.

They attacked their food vigorously. When the plates were empty, they stared at each other. “Feeling warmed up?” Victor asked.

“Chicken-fried steak?” Ziggy asked.

“You read my mind,” Victor responded.

Having finished all the fries he wanted, Nate got up to hunt for other food. By the time he returned, Ziggy and Victor were already back in their seats and efficiently devouring more grub with no sign of slowing. Ziggy rose so Nate could scoot in.

The Battiatos finished their sixth plates before Nate completed his meal. Their later plates were less similar as each man pursued his preferences. Nate had to push to finish his last sparerib. After the fries and a crowded meal plate, he was getting pretty full.

Ziggy patted him on the back. “You already feeling it?”

Nate nodded.

“You’re not sweating yet,” Ziggy said. “You’ve got to go until the food sweat hits. That’s how you know you did it right.”

“Who wants dessert?” Victor asked, rising.

“Me,” Pigeon said, scooting out of the booth.

“Know what you want?” Victor asked, placing a large hand on Pigeon’s shoulder.

Pigeon shrugged. “Not yet.”

Victor gave a nod. “When in doubt, follow the big guy. He’ll lead you to the good stuff.”

Nate went to find some dessert as well. In the end he settled on a slice of chocolate mousse pie and a lemon meringue tart. Victor and Ziggy returned to the table with abundant treats. Victor went heavy on sponge cake smothered in vanilla custard, while Ziggy had constructed a towering hot fudge sundae.

“Should we talk about why we’re here?” Nate asked, taking a bite of pie.

Victor held up a spoon. “All in due time. I prefer not to divide my attention.”

After Nate finished his desserts, he felt ready to burst. He probably should have left some of the lemon tart on the plate, but it had tasted too delicious to stop. Pigeon looked equally overfed, his posture awkward, a smudge of pudding at the corner of his mouth. Summer pointed out the pudding and he wiped it off.

Ziggy and Victor appeared satisfied. Both men had finished their plates first, then sat watching the kids in contented silence.

“Is everyone full?” Ziggy asked.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Trevor said.

“Thanks for lunch,” Summer added.

“Our pleasure,” Victor said.

“So, who took John?” Nate asked.

“We have the same question,” Victor replied.

“What do you know?” Pigeon asked.

“Our suspicions center on Arcadeland,” Ziggy said.

“The new arcade in Walnut Hills?” Trevor asked.

“Have you been there?” Victor wondered.

“Not yet,” Trevor said. “It only opened last month. It’s supposed to be awesome.”

“It’s certainly eye catching,” Victor said. “We’re not dealing with amateurs. Arcadeland was at the heart of John’s investigation. We haven’t figured out who owns it, but the arcade is almost certainly a magician’s lair.”

“Which means we can’t enter,” Ziggy added. “Not unless we want a fight. Anybody who has been magically altered would trip a number of alarms. And nobody wants to confront a magician in his lair, especially going in blind.”

“Is this why you need us?” Trevor asked.

Victor gave a nod. “We need information. Eyes on the inside. The arcade isn’t safe, but during the normal hours of operation it shouldn’t pose serious danger to the average customer, especially if you keep your guard up.”

“We need to learn what’s going on,” Ziggy said. “We’re not even sure what kind of racket they’re running. Ideally we’d like to identify the owner.”

“Would I trip the magical alarms?” Nate wondered. “Magic aged me prematurely.”

“Only if you were still an old man,” Victor replied. “Now that you have been restored to your original state, you should read the same as any ordinary kid.”

“What about Lindy?” Pigeon asked. “Do you know about her?”

“We know her story,” Victor acknowledged. “She is definitely in an altered state and would surely trip magical warning signals. Whoever founded this arcade is not one of the good guys. Letting the mystery magician learn Lindy’s secret could be dangerous for her.”

“Dangerous for all of us,” Nate clarified. “If she somehow got her memory back, Belinda would become a major threat. I saw a possible future where she was taking over the town, and that was just the first step of a bigger plan.”

“You have to keep Lindy away from Arcadeland,” Ziggy agreed. “I expect that Stott understands this.”

“He wouldn’t even let Lindy come here today,” Pigeon said.

Victor nodded as if this were expected. “You four need to help reinforce his efforts to keep her out of Walnut Hills.”

“Can we bring magical candy into the arcade?” Nate asked.

“You can and you should,” Victor said. “I don’t expect this venture to be overly dangerous, but if things go wrong, it could get messy fast. You need to be ready to make an escape. Having edible enhancers shouldn’t trigger any alarms. In fact, you should even be able to use them without setting off alarms, since you’ll have been invited into the lair.”

“Invited?” Summer asked.

“The invitation is implied with a public area,” Ziggy said. “Same with the retail portion of the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe. The magician gives up some control over the environment upon granting public access.”

“What are we looking for?” Pigeon wondered.

“We have some cheap digital cameras for you,” Victor said. “Take pictures like you’re horsing around, but try to get the employees in the background. Look for unusual games. Talk to any kids who seem like regulars. Keep your ears open. Take note of anything fishy.”

Ziggy pulled out a fat wad of bills and began peeling off twenties. “Play lots of games. We’ll start you out with five hundred dollars. We have plenty more if you need it.”

Nate noticed Trevor gazing at the cash with wide eyes. “All for video games?”

“Whatever games you wish,” Victor said. “Sample a wide variety. Keep an eye out for any oddities.”

“I might enjoy this mission,” Nate said, glancing from Victor to Ziggy.

“Don’t get too excited,” Ziggy said. “Something crooked is going on at Arcadeland. If you have some fun along the way, no problem, but don’t forget the place is a trap. Keep in mind what Belinda White did with her candy shop. Don’t eat anything, and if a game seems to have strange effects, be an observer, not a participant.”

“We’ll be right outside,” Victor promised. “John would have our heads if anything happened to you kids.”

“Deadly lair or not, we’ll be there right away if you need us,” Ziggy assured them. “You in?”

Nate and his friends exchanged small nods. Nate held out his hand for the money. “We’re in.”

Chapter Four

Arcadeland

Half a block from Arcadeland, on the opposite side of the street, Summer and Pigeon ducked into an alley. Both of them looked up. The buildings on either side rose three stories tall.

“No fire escapes,” Pigeon said.

“We’ll have to use Moon Rocks,” Summer answered, leading them farther down the alley. She looked back toward the street. Almost two hours had passed since they had left Schwendiman’s All-You-Can-Eat Buffet. The sun was not directly overhead, so most of the alley was in shadow. Anyone in the cars driving by on Canal Street would have only a brief glimpse into the alleyway.

“Acceptable risk?” Pigeon asked.

“Nobody was nearby on the sidewalk,” Summer said. “If we hurry we should be fine.”

Pigeon glanced up. “Several windows.”

Summer indicated a vertical path up the wall. “We’ll be hard to see from a window if we stay along this line. People would practically have to lean out to get a view of us.”

“We do need a good vantage point,” Pigeon conceded.

Summer popped a Moon Rock into her mouth, feeling the familiar lightening of her frame. Pigeon did likewise. Summer jumped toward one side of the alley, soaring gently, then kicked off the side of a building, gaining altitude as she crossed to the far side. She kicked off the wall again, gliding higher.

Glancing down, she saw Pigeon staring up at her. She was already high, but she reminded herself that with the Moon Rock, to fall would be no big deal. Two more sharp kicks and she reached the top of one of the buildings.

Summer eased her light body over the edge to stand on the roof, then watched as Pigeon tried to follow her. He was kicking off the walls too straight-on, gaining only a little height every time he crossed from one side to the other. She almost called out some advice, then realized it would probably only embarrass him without improving his technique.

After springing back and forth more than fifteen times, Pigeon reached the top of the building. “Should I spit it out?” he asked.

“No point in wasting it,” Summer said. “Just be careful not to float off the roof and cause a scene.”

“Right.”

They gingerly moved to the part of the roof overlooking Canal Street and Arcadeland. The arcade was much larger than Summer had expected. Neon fireworks burst in jerky patterns beside the flashy sign. Not only was the main building huge, but two miniature golf courses wrapped around it. There were batting cages on the near side and a twisty go-kart track on the far side. A tall chain-link fence enclosed the entire complex.

“Looks fun,” Pigeon said.

Summer noticed that Pigeon was raising his head higher than necessary as he surveyed Arcadeland, making himself too visible from the street. “Stay low,” she cautioned.