Totally Toxic (18 page)

I motioned for Josh to follow me. Keeping to the shadows of the building, we crept closer to the dock.

“Back that truck up to the dock, Gus,” shouted one of the jumpsuits. “Nice 'n'close.”

The one called Gus hopped into the cab and guided the truck backward toward the opening of the loading dock, where three other rubber-clad workers were waiting beside a row of four huge barrels.

“A little more to the left, Gus…”

“Cut your wheel, cut your wheel!”

“Brake! Brake!”

The truck slammed to a halt with a grinding squeal.

“Jeesh, Gus. You almost ran over Morty!”

“Sorry.”

“Get a move on, fellas. We gotta haul this stuff to the river and dump it before daylight or Mitchell will have our hides.”

“Try it again, Gus. Easy does it….”

While the men focused their attention on Gus, Josh and I climbed the four wide steps to the dock, then quickly concealed ourselves behind another barrel.

“Check this out!”Josh whispered.

I looked at the barrel. A hideous skull and crossbones stared back at me with hollow eyes and a wicked frown. I didn't have to be a superhero to know what that meant:
poison.

“That explains the jumpsuits,” Josh said. “But what do we do now?”

My first instinct was to charge into the middle of it all and give Gus and Morty and those other finks a supercharged pounding. But I couldn't do that in front of Josh.

“We go back to the gate, find a pay phone, and call my dad,” I said reasonably.

“Good idea,” said Josh. “Now all we have to do is get out of here without these goons spotting us.”

“Right.” I leaned out from behind the barrel and scanned the area. “Well, if Goony Gus ever manages to back the truck in straight, we can bolt while they're loading the barrels.”

“So I guess we just sit and wait,” Josh sighed.

I was about to agree with him when something across the parking lot from the loading dock caught my eye.

And I knew there'd be no sitting and waiting for me.

factory was built to form a giant U around the loading dock, so I could see one wing of the building clearly from where Josh and I were hiding. Every one of the windows was dark.

But something had flickered in the biggest window overlooking the dock. A tiny green pin-dot of light had gone on, and its slender beam bounced around the room in a quick sweep before going dark again.

I held my breath. The light flared again, emitting a soft greenish glow.

Someone was in that office! And it looked like they were using some sort of high-tech night-vision light source, which pretty much guaranteed that it wasn't just the janitor coming in to empty the wastepaper basket. Someone was up to no good. Whether it had anything to do with the toxic waste, though, was anybody's guess. I had to find out.

“Josh,” I whispered. “I'll be right back.”

“Shhhh!”

He lowered his voice to a frantic whisper. “We just decided we had to wait until the men were busy loading the truck. You can't go out there.”

“I know. But I think I can sneak by them. I'm smaller than you, after all. I want to check out the schedules in the loading dock office. Maybe I can get proof of this after-hours shipment, in case my dad doesn't get here in time.”

“I guess that's a good idea,” he muttered. “But Zoe, be careful.”

I liked that he was worried about me. I gave him a glowing smile. “I will be,” I promised. “Now, whatever you do, just keep your eyes on those guys with the barrels, okay?”

“Why?”

“In case they start heading this way to get this barrel. Then you'll have to move fast and go hide behind those cardboard boxes over there.”

It was only partly true. They had their hands full with the four barrels they'd already lined up, and probably wouldn't be getting to this one for quite some time. What I really wanted to do was keep Josh from watching me make a superpowered mad dash.

“Good point,” said Josh, turning to focus on the guys waiting in the bay.

When I was sure he wasn't looking at me, I scooted out from behind the barrel, and, clutching my backpack, I ran at superspeed directly through the lot toward the opposite wing of the factory.

I wasn't worried about any of the goons spotting me. I was
moving at something close to light speed, so I was a mere blur. They would think I was a gust of wind.

When I was close enough, I jumped, shooting upward past all the dark windows and landing on the tarpaper roof of the factory, directly above the room where I'd seen the suspicious light.

I opened my backpack and suited up, finishing with my extremely cool identity-concealing mask. Then I lay flat on my belly and leaned over the side of the building to look in the window.

The room was hazy with green light, but I could make out the surprisingly delicate figure of the intruder. The trespasser was dressed in a black jumpsuit with a hood and face mask and seemed to be searching the room for something specific, going through desk and file-cabinet drawers in a calm, methodical manner. Suddenly, I knew exactly who it was… the Slink!

I could have shattered the window glass with a touch of my fingertip, but I thought the sound might alert the guys in the cargo bay. Instead, I reached for my belt and, keeping my eyes fixed on the graceful prowler in the office, felt around until I found my seventy-eight-in-one utility gadget.

I suffered a few frustrating moments of trial and error, locating the hand grenade disengager, the universal jet airplane ignition key, and the nail clippers before I finally found the glass-cutting tool.

Soundlessly, I used it to cut a Zoe-sized hole in the window, gently pulled the glass cutout back and laid it on the floor so it wouldn't shatter, then deftly slipped through the opening. I crouched on the broad windowsill and watched as the trespasser opened a wall safe as easily as if it were a cookie jar.

“Looking for something?” I demanded.

The thief whirled to face me. For a moment I couldn't say anything. That catsuit clung tighter than any standard Lycra, and the person inside it was very definitely
femalel

“Obviously,” I said, recovering, “this is George Mitchell's private office, and obviously, that is George Mitchell's private safe.” I hopped down from the sill and strode toward the thief. “And obviously, you are
not
George Mitchell.”

A wicked little laugh bubbled up from the prowler's throat, followed by a voice that was raspy but surprisingly high-pitched. “And obviously, you have no idea who you're dealing with!”

“I think I do,” I said. “You're that diamond thief who's been terrorizing Sweetbriar. The Slinky, is it?” I rolled my eyes behind my mask. “What kind of criminal is named after a toy?”

“It's the Slink, you fool!”

“Whatever.” I struck my best hero pose and recited the words I'd memorized from the superhero manual.”By the authority of the Superhero Federation, keepers of justice in the universe, I hereby apprehend you.”

The Slink laughed again. “You? Apprehend me?”

With that, she reached into the safe, withdrew a blue velvet pouch, and started to tuck it into a pocket in the snug black jumpsuit.

I lunged for the pouch and took hold of it. “You're not going to get away with this!”

“That's what you think!” The Slink held fast to the pouch and tugged.

I tugged harder.

Maybe a little too hard. The next thing I knew, the pouch tore and the Slink tumbled backward… straight through the hole I'd cut in the window!

The contents of the torn pouch—diamonds, hundreds of them!—flew all over the room, but I couldn't collect them then. I sprang back to the windowsill and stuck my head out the window. The Slink had landed safely and was creeping— okay,
slinking
—from shadow to shadow toward the high fence. You had to know she was there to spot her, if you get what I mean. Certainly none of Mitchell's goons noticed there was an intruder in the compound.

I thought fast. Judging from the state of the office floor, it looked as if the Slink had left empty-handed this time, but there was no way I could miss the opportunity to catch her
and
Mitchell getting up to no good. The Slink had robbed pretty much every jewelry store in town! As a superhero, it was my duty to stop her. I scrambled onto the windowsill and jumped down to the ground in the cargo bay.

Admittedly, I didn't land with the same catlike stealth the Slink had, but the goons were too busy rolling barrels into the truck to notice. I knew I had to move fast, before they got to the fifth barrel and discovered Josh. I held my breath for a few moments to make sure I hadn't been spotted, then set off after the Slink, using half superspeed so she didn't vanish into a total blur.

Unfortunately, I was so busy tracking the Slink's progress— and trying not to admire the way she leaped onto a Dumpster, then onto the roof of a low building, then actually
ran
along the top of the fence like she was in a highwire act—that I forgot to check where I was putting my feet.

Who left that wrench on the ground? My foot caught the
edge of it and spun it into the air. To save myself from face-planting at warp speed, I managed to go straight into a somersault and land on my feet again. By the time I straightened up, I could only watch helplessly as the wrench sailed through the air and hit the ground, bouncing—loudly—a couple of times. Definitely
not
super.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Slink pause on the fence. She turned to give me a wave—and I just
know
she was thinking something like
I told you you'd never be able to catch me!
— before leaping gracefully to the ground on the other side and disappearing into the shadows.

But failing to catch the Slink was the least of my problems just then.