Totally Toxic (19 page)

“What was that?” Yikes! One of Mitchell's goons had heard the wrench.

“C'mon, let's go check it out,” I heard another one say.

“Watch out for that barrel, Morty!” said the first goon.

There was the sound of running feet;
g/fc'
then there was a thud, followed by an ' “oof!”, followed by a sinister-sounding crash. I peered around the corner of the Dumpster. On the far side of the loading area, Josh was peeking around the side of his barrel—I just had to hope Gran's fashion-conscious neon pink and green suit didn't catch his eye.

The guy named Morty had knocked over a barrel, sending the lid flying. The shiny green cylinder lay on its side in the middle of the loading zone, and greenish goo was oozing over the con-crete. The workers stood in a row with their mouths open, looking utterly horrified. I probably looked the same—the pavement was actually
sizzling
as the poisonous stuff made contact.

“That stuff's deadly! Let's get out of here!” Morty spun around and took off as if he was running for his life. He seemed to know exactly what was in those barrels, so I believed him.

The other goons fled in separate directions. The one closest to the barrels swerved around the last barrel left standing—and collided with Josh. “Look out!” I screamed, but it was too late. The guy didn't even break stride but kept running until he had vanished around the side of the complex. Josh lost his balance and toppled backward, hitting his head on the cement floor with a thud that made me feel sick. I willed him to get up until I was in danger of shooting him with laser beams from my eyes, but he didn't move.

Panic shot through me. The toxic waste was oozing straight
toward him. If it sizzled on pavement, I didn't want to think what it might do when it made contact with a kid!

In one superfast stride, I made it to the loading dock. The poison was only inches away from Josh now, but it wasn't a problem.

All I had to do was scoop him up and carry him to safety. He felt like he weighed less than a bag of sugar. I had just cradled his head in the crook of my arm when I saw his eyes flutter.

Okay, maybe it
was
a problem.

He blinked, then opened his eyes slightly. He seemed to be in a fog. Still, if he saw me …

Not good. Not good at all.

His eyes fluttered closed again.

I quickly slid my arm out from beneath his head. Even if he didn't recognize me in my supersuit, I didn't want him to know he'd been rescued by a Super. We superheroes were supposed to remain secret at all times! If Josh opened his eyes and found himself being rescued by a kid in a cape and an eye mask, the world's hugest secret would be blown big-time.

I scanned the area for something I could use to stop the flow of poisonous chemicals.
MITCHELL ENTERPRISES
in bold red letters caught my eye.

The truck!

I leaped from the loading dock and took hold of the truck's rear bumper. With a grunt, I hoisted the truck off the ground, spun on my heel, and carefully lowered it on its side between Josh and the oozing goop. The metal walls of the truck's bay became an instant dam.

The next second, the toxic spill reached the truck…

… and the end of its slimy journey.

It pooled, still hissing and sputtering. On the other side of the big rig, Josh was safe.

I bolted to the loading dock office and quickly changed out of my supersuit. Then, since I was there, I gathered up the incriminating schedules and tucked them into my backpack. I was about to jump back up to Mitchell's office to retrieve the diamonds, but I heard Josh calling my name.

I left the office and joined him on the loading dock.

“What happened?” he asked, rubbing his head and sounding groggy.

“Don't you remember?”

“I remember a lady with a knife. That was weird. And then the toxic glop was spilling all over the place and then… that's it.”

“You must have hit your head pretty hard,” I said, feeling genuinely anxious. “Let's go to the office and call my dad. He'll send an ambulance.”

I helped Josh up and steadied him as we headed toward the office.

“Zoe?”

“Yes?”

“How'd that truck get up on the loading dock?”

“Umm…” I flashed a grin at him. “I guess Gus turned out to be an even worse driver than we thought.”

that, everything seemed to happen in a blur—even to me, the fastest sixth grader in the world.

First, I used the Fast Freeze Feature on my backpack to temporarily stun Josh. I hated to do it, but I didn't have much of a choice. I was wearing my regular clothes by then, but I couldn't let him see me clear everything up before the cops arrived. I set him in one of the office chairs and got to work.

I called the police and left an anonymous tip for Detective Richards about foul play at the factory and five creepy guys in rubber suits who were probably still within the Sweetbriar town limits. I knew if the police traced the call, they'd see that it came from the factory, and figured they'd assume it was just one of Mitchell's employees who'd had a fit of conscience and decided to report his coworkers.

Then I lifted the truck from the loading dock (by now the toxic ooze had hardened into a thick, smelly mass that wasn't
going anywhere fast) and returned it to the parking lot because my dad would never believe that it had gotten up there by accident. Josh wouldn't have bought that story, either, I was sure, if his head hadn't been spinning.

Then I carried Josh at superspeed to the gate where we'd left his bike. I propped him on the handlebars and pedaled us both back home (I thought I might have broken the sound barrier halfway down Brandon Street, but I wasn't sure). He came to just as I slowed down in his driveway. He was more confused than ever.

“You passed out again,” I said. “I couldn't call anyone because the office at the loading dock was locked. So I rode you home on your bike.” I helped him climb down from the handlebars and gave him a serious look. “You should probably have your folks take you to the emergency roomjust to be safe.”

Josh nodded, then winced at the pain in his head. “I'll just tell them I fell off my bike and hit my head,” he decided aloud. “I'm gonna get in a stack of trouble for not wearing my helmet, but if they knew I was at the factory, they'd freak.” He looked very uncomfortable, and I knew it had nothing to do with the pounding in his head. “I've never lied to my parents before,” he said. “I don't think I'm gonna do it again.”

Another thing I liked about Josh: he was honest to the core.

“We learned a pretty good lesson tonight,” I said. “In the future, we should leave the crime busting to the professionals.”

And by “professionals,” of course, I meant me.

I waited until Josh was safe inside his house, then bolted home.

Just as I was sneaking back in through my bedroom window (relieved to find that neither Dad nor Mom had checked on me while I was gone), I heard the phone ring. Two minutes later,
Dad was zooming out of the house, and I knew it was because of the “anonymous” tip.

I put my superbackpack in the closet and yawned as I changed into my pj's. Nothing like a good night's work to make a kid— even a super kid—tired.

I climbed into bed and instantly fell asleep.

The next morning, I went down to breakfast to find my father on the phone providing the details of his long night to his boss, the chief.

“We managed to track down all the employees the tip had mentioned,” Dad was saying.

The goons
, I thought, suppressing a giggle.

“A guy named Morty ratted Mitchell out on everything.” Then Dad mentioned the diamonds that had been found in Mitchell's office. I had almost forgotten about them, but suddenly I was interested. What would a guy like Mitchell be doing with diamonds?

“Mitchell was planning to use them in a new manufacturing process that required something as hard as diamonds to cut metal. Judging by the clues we found at the scene, it looks as if the Slink was trying to steal them but got sidetracked by the commotion in the cargo bay and left without taking anything.”

It wasn't a bad theory. I wished I could tell him what had really happened, but of course, I couldn't.

“Two different crimes at one location, Chief!” Dad was saying into the phone. “This is one for the record books.”

You can say that again
, I thought, stuffing a bite of pancake into my mouth.

Later that morning, I called Josh and asked him how he was feeling.

“The doctor in the ER said it was a pretty major bump, but I don't have a concussion or anything.” He paused.

“What?”

“I'm grounded for a week for riding my bike without my helmet, but I feel so bad about lying to them that I kind of don't care about the grounding. Isn't that crazy?”

“No, I don't think it is. I totally understand,” I replied.

As I hung up, I actually felt a little envious. Josh had said he would never lie to his parents again, and I was sure that was a promise he would keep. I, on the other hand, had plenty of sneaky excuses ahead of me. All for a good cause… but still. I wished it could be different.

I was hanging up the phone when the doorbell rang.