The Clock Winked (The Sagittan Chronicles Book 2) (21 page)

Quin leaned down.

“My men dey iz coming too,” Stryker added with difficulty.
“Dey iz outside.”

A bullet whizzed through the window, breaking the glass.
Aunt Llewellyn shrieked and Auvek leaped backwards towards the fire. Salve ran
into the other room with Leslie right behind. Quin scooped up Stryker and disappeared
through the doorway close behind.

“We know Stryker in dere,” a deep voice boomed from the
lawn. “Leaf him wid us and we no hurt yous.”

John popped his head through the window. “Oh hello, there,”
he said. “Before we give him back, would you mind smiling for a picture?” He
reached out, grabbed Salve’s camera and pressed the button. A bright flash
preceded a roar of irritation that rose from the group of men that stood
outside.

“My eyes!” one man yelled. “Now I can’t see!”

“Can’t see vere I shoot,” the deep voice yelled back. His
gun fired, booming in the damp night air.
“Dat stupid.
Now I shoot toward yous, no know what I hit.”

John ducked back down and crawled from the room, followed
closely by Auvek.

“Help!”
Aunt Llewellyn screamed.
She sat frozen in the chair. Another bullet stuck in the wall had smashed
through a vase; bits of porcelain rained in chunks all over the floor. Auvek
turned to look at her. Her eyes were locked on the darkness outside the window.
Light rain hovered around the window and faces flashed in and out of the light
sprinkled onto the lawn.

Auvek sprinted back to her chair and grabbed her hand. “Come
on!” he exclaimed.

“I can’t,” Aunt Llewellyn breathed in terror. “What if they
get me?”

“Come on!” Auvek yanked on her arm, trying to pull her out
of the chair. She wouldn’t budge. In desperation, Auvek looked back at John,
and then got behind the chair. He pushed. It slid over the rug in jerks and
bumps. Leaping up, John began to pull on the arms of the chair while attempting
to stay low.

“Don’t even think about it!” a voice yelled from outside the
window.

John and Auvek froze.

“If you shoot one more bullet I swear I will fill your
tooshie with buckshot!” the voice continued.

“Ve vill kill yous if ve haf to,” the deep voice from earlier
replied.

“Not us,” John whispered to Auvek. “Go!
Fast!”

“Not if I kill you first!” the first voice replied. “We got
more than enough
lead
to whip you into a statue!”

They dragged the chair out of the view of the window. As soon
as they reached the doorframe, Aunt Llewellyn jerked back to sanity. “Why are
you dragging my chair?” she demanded.

A bullet thudded into the wall beside the fireplace.

“Oh,” she replied. “Well, let’s go!”

John led them towards the blue hazy Door that flickered in
the dimly lit room. He grabbed Auvek and Aunt Llewellyn by their hands and
dragged them through the Door. The lights and the sounds dissipated into
darkness, and then re-blossomed. Quin, Leslie, Pete, and Salve stood looking at
Stryker, who lay on the floor, groaning. The room around them seemed to be
another living room.

“Good guess,” Quin said to John.

“Where are we?” Auvek asked.

“Quin’s house.”
John wandered over
to the window and peeked through the shade. “No gangs fighting here.” He grinned.

“Anybody else hurt?” Leslie asked. Everyone shook their
heads and looked at each other. “Good. I’m going to shoot him up with this.”
She held up a syringe. “It’ll perk him up way past healthy for fifty-two
seconds so you can figure out what’s going on. Then I’m going to shoot him up
with this,” she held up another syringe, “which will put him to sleep for two
days so he can heal. That will also allow me time to check out his wounds, and
do any surgery and stiches that he needs. We can stick him in Quin’s bed
upstairs. So think your questions through.”

John and Quin glanced at each other.

“Go,” Quin said.

The syringe pierced Stryker’s neck; the needle slowly
disappeared and then reappeared. Stryker jerked awake and sat up. He stared
straight ahead.

“Bronwyn iz with Rathead but he not know who she iz, but
zey’ve got zat monkey of Oliphant’s, Simon, who knows who she iz and vere ze
disk iz and all ze genealogy hidden in Oliphant’s liberry. Zey’re at ze Jameson
estate vith twelve trained attack dogs, an electric fence, and bush maze
surrounding ze Clock. Plan to start war again on Gwola as soon as Clock goes
off.
Also kidnapped Samson Lebron who keeps trying to escape.
He’z idiot.”
He looked at Aunt Llewellyn.
“Iz ready.
Aderyn and Dwight waiting on ze
other side.”
He gasped and clutched at his side. “I iz shot.”
Collapsing, he began to groan.

Leslie held up the other syringe and slowly slid it into his
skin. A moment later he lay quietly, breathing softly.

“Guess you didn’t need questions,” she said.

“I hope Simon’s okay,” Auvek said. A worry-line creased his
forehead.

“This is actually brilliant!” John said. “Simon’s got tracking radar. If he
turned it on, it means we can find him wherever he is.”

Quin bent down and carefully lifted the sleeping mobster. “It’s
upstairs,” Quin replied.
“In Dad’s room.”

The group slowly climbed the stairs, following Quin, who
turned left into a doorway.

“Where’s your housekeeper?” John asked.

“Vacation.
I’ll leave a note,” Quin
replied.

“Speaking of missing,” John mused. “What is Samson Lebron
doing there?”

“I can keep an eye on Stryker,” Leslie said. “After I close
up his wounds, I’ll check on him regularly and set up an IV. He won’t be going
anywhere.”

As Quin carefully set the body onto the bed, Leslie began to
scurry around the room, unpacking the medical supplies, stopping only to take
Stryker’s vitals.

“Llewellyn, do you want to come back with me?” Leslie asked.
“We’ve got a safe place you can hide while they go get Bronwyn.”

“Absolutely not!”
Aunt Llewellyn
exclaimed. “My niece is in potentially mortal peril! I will not sit by and wait
for her to die.”

“Well, alright then,” Leslie said. “I’ve got to make sure
Misty is okay. You all be careful now!” She darted down the stairs and vanished
through the Door.

“You’re staying here, though,” said John, pointing at Salve.

“What?” Salve
exclaimed. “But that’s where Bronwyn is!”

“No reporters,” John replied firmly.

“I’m coming.” Auvek frowned. “Simon is my responsibility.
You can’t make me stay.”

John sighed loudly.
“Fine!
Quin, take
us outside.”

“Let me grab the tracking radar.” Quin led them into another
room where he picked up a small black device and turned it on. It beeped. “I
need Simon’s ID tag,” he said, “if this thing is going to do us any good.”

He and John turned to look at Auvek.

“I don’t know what it is,” Auvek said, shrugging.

Everyone stood and looked at each other.

“I guess we’ll just have to do it the old fashioned way,”
John said.
“A map!”

*****

Samson lay on the floor, exhausted. All of his attempts at
escape had led him right back where he started—lying on the floor, exhausted.
This time around, the most shocking part of his re-capture was the electric
fence, which had left him babbling for far too long. Now the whole house was
quiet. He squirmed in his binds, which, to his surprise, came right undone. He
vaguely wondered how long Stryker had been gone—at some point, the guards had turned
all of their attention onto him.

He sat up, pulled the ropes off of his feet, and stretched.
His head ached, his whole body was bruised, and his right arm bled. Slowly he
stood up. The room swayed and righted itself; then, he tiptoed out into the
hallway.

The house seemed devoid of noise. Previously, each time he
had sneaked out of the room, a posse of thundering guards appeared to chase him
around for a bit and then dragged him back to that white, furniture-less room.
This time he seemed to be alone. A lonely door surrounded by walls and floors
and ceiling peered at him from its perch at the end of the hall. He slipped
through quietly and flicked on the light.

“I have waited you for,” Rathead said. He stood on the other
side of the room gazing out a window into the bluish morning light. Water
covered the bushes, trees, and grass. He turned to look at Samson, and for the
first time, Samson saw that he was quite old. The dim light cascaded over the
creases in his skin, and the blue strips seemed to
sag
a bit low. His eyes bore a hole into Samson’s.

“Many years.”
Rathead took a step
forward. “Years have I waited to give a dream
life.
My
father, he dream of fight, but this fight took too long and he die. So I wait,
I wait not for fight, but for victory. See, I fight all time—fighting, this is
my life. So I wait for victory.” His eyes grew cold and the lines in his face
hardened.
“But you.
You have let my victory fly out
window. You meddle, you play—this is not where is for you. This is wrong life.
With you I am very angry.”

“I haven’t done anything!” Samson protested. “All I want is
to know what happened to Chair Rizinski! That’s all.”

“Is you,” Rathead strode across the room and poked Samson in
the chest. “Is you that want money and power and fame.
Is
me which want to free my people.
Is
you that destroy
my hope, my work, my life. You
is
rat. Scum of this
planet here. Scum of every planet you step.”

“What did I do?” Samson stepped backwards as Rathead
advanced on him.

“Two enemies,” Rathead continued, “that I fight to stop.
Only two.
And you.
You give words
that help them. Over and over and over you give words. To me, I get nothing.
Nothing.”

“Who?”
Samson felt the wall against
his back.
“I swear, it wasn’t on purpose!”

Rathead spit.
“Stryker, scum number two,
and this man who call himself Officer Holder.”

“Officer Holder?” Tilting his head to the side, Samson
frowned. “He fed me information.”

“Ah but you also feed to him. How do this I know, you ask?”
Reaching into his pocket, Rathead pulled out a remote. He pointed it at the
wall. An image appeared.

“Hello, Mr. Lebron.”

“Marge!” Samson exclaimed. “Help me! I’m being held captive
by a mad gang leader named Rathead!”

“No,” she replied, “you’ve taken a leave of absence to deal
with an injury to the head, caused by a chair hitting you when gravity failed
on Meteor II.”

“What? No I’m not!” Samson looked at her face which filled
an entire wall.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lebron,” she said.

“She my niece,” Rathead said, smiling.
“And
good niece, too.
Much clever.”

“You’re insane!” exclaimed Samson. He began to slide slowly
towards the door.

“Not move,” Rathead commanded, pulling out a gun. He cocked and
aimed it at Samson.

“Not moving, not moving!” Putting his hands in the air,
Samson abruptly stopped inching towards the door. “May I ask a question?”

“Speak.”

“Why is Officer Holder your enemy?”

“He not an Officer of law.
He
entity which has plagued us many year. He fights to stop
us reaching our goal. Yet still, we know nothing except he is everywhere at
once and that he fight us. And that you help him.”

Rathead stepped forward and placed the gun against Samson’s
chest.

“No, no, no!” Samson cried. “I’ll help you! What can I do?”

“You had already one chance,” Rathead stated. “Why I should
give you another?”

“Anything!”
His eyes were wide with
panic and his skin shone pale white in the night. “Please,” he whispered.

“It is as if you think I am
have
mercy.” Moving the gun slowly up to Samson’s neck, Rathead leaned in close. “I
am not.”

He smiled, just a small smile which showed his sharp, white
teeth. “I think I will finally smell colour of your blood.”

Samson didn’t like this idea, so he promptly kneed Rathead
in a very uncomfortable place and fled.

*****

“You’re holding it upside down.” John reached over and
grabbed the large paper that Auvek held between his thumbs and forefingers.

“I know! I haven’t even started looking at it yet!” Auvek
protested.

“Okay. So, we are right here.” John ignored him and pointed
at their location on the map. “Where is Musk’s place supposed to be?”

Aunt Llewellyn leaned forward and looked over his shoulder.
“Right there, on the edge of the Elusion Fields.”

“It can’t be!” John exclaimed. “There’s no crater there.
Besides, that’s practically downtown Pomegranate City!”

“Young man, rich people and expansive secretive
organizations can hide many, many things, including craters. I suggest you take
my word for it. Jameson lives on Minutehand Lane.”

“You people and clocks,” John muttered under his breath.
“Let’s keep it a secret. How?
By naming it after itself.”

“Might I remind you that this
has
been a secret until now?” Aunt Llewellyn said harshly, annoyed
by John’s response.

“And it might still be, if you didn’t insist on naming your
secrets so obviously, or if you burned your secret documents instead of hiding
them. Or if your plan to protect your people actually made sense!”

“John.” Quin’s voice carried a warning.

“Seriously, you guys,” Auvek joined in. “My friend and robot
are being held captive by an evil mob gangster, and you two are arguing about
the best way to keep a multi-generational secret. Rescue now, debate later.”