He’s a traitor, part of the group trying to kill us! The next thing I know, he is flying into the air, yanked upward by telekinesis. Marina must have realized the same thing. But it might be too late. He’s already revealed her location.
I look towards the missile launcher and gather my strength so I can alter the flight of the missiles once they’re fired. As I start to focus on it, another launcher whirs to life and aims its missiles directly at me. Though I’m invisible, the army knows a shoulder rocket was fired from where I’m standing. I only have the power to deal with one of them, and there’s no time to run. I have a choice. Save Crayton and Marina or save myself.
The launcher pointed toward the mountain starts firing. The missiles come screaming out, heading straight for the hills. I get control of them and redirect them into the ground, where they explode, just as the second launcher fires. I turn and see their white tips moving towards me. I don’t have time to do anything, but suddenly the missiles loop up and turn back towards the launcher that fired them and the brigade. They barrel into five different vehicles, all of which explode.
Marina. She saved my life. We are working together, just as we were meant to do, and the thought makes me feel more determined than before to get this pit stop over with and find Eight. I want to send a message to the remaining soldiers of the brigade so I stop using my invisibility Legacy and show myself. I focus and start to control the flames rising from where the missiles exploded with my telekinesis. I spread the fire down the road to engulf the rest of the brigade. One by one, the flames move down the row of vehicles and it’s like exploding dominos. Message received. The remaining soldiers of the Lord’s Resistance Front begin to retreat. For a second, I’m tempted to indulge in a little retribution. But that’s cruel and unnecessary and exactly the kind of thing the Mogadorians would do. I know my fantasies of going medieval on their retreating asses are not going to help us now.
‘That’s right! Run! Because if you don’t, that fire is just waiting to finish the job off!’ When the last one disappears from view, I turn and start walking back towards the hills. I need to find my friends.
8
The smoke is thick but beginning to dissipate. From where I am on the floor, I can see dozens of legs and black boots. I raise my eyes and see almost as many rifles, all of them aimed at my head.
My eyes move from the heavy boots up to the gas masks, relieved to see they belong to humans and not Mogadorians. But what kind of humans have Mogadorian weapons? A gun barrel is pushed into the back of my skull. Normally, I’d use my telekinesis to rip it away and toss it a mile into the mountains, but the pain from the bracelet is too intense for me to be able to focus my energy on that. One of the men says something to me, but I can’t concentrate enough to make out what he’s saying.
I search for a focal point to help get me through the pain, and see Nine groaning on the carpet. From where I am, it looks as if he’s having trouble breathing; it also looks like he can’t move his arms and legs. I want to help him, and struggle to get up, but I’m kicked back down as soon as I start to move. I roll onto my back and immediately a long cylindrical tube is pressed into my left eye. There are hundreds of lights inside the tube, and I watch them swirl together to become one solid green beam. It’s definitely a Mogadorian cannon, the same kind that paralyzed me outside our burning house in Florida. I focus my other eye past the side of the weapon and see a man in a khaki trench coat. He pulls back his gas mask to reveal a ring of white hair and a fat, crooked nose that looks like it’s been broken more than once. I find myself looking forward to breaking it again.
‘Don’t move,’ he growls at me, ‘or I’ll pull the trigger.’
I glance over at Nine, who seems to be recovering. He’s sitting up, looking around, struggling to shake off his dazed expression. The man with the cannon pressed to my face looks over at him. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he says.
Nine smiles up at him, clear eyed and calm. ‘Trying to decide which one of you I’m going to kill first.’
‘Shut him up!’ a woman yells as she enters the house, also carrying a Mog cannon. Two men press their boots against Nine’s shoulders and force him back to the floor. The woman motions at me, and someone takes me by the shoulders and pulls me onto my feet. Another man grabs my wrists to put me in handcuffs.
‘Son of a bitch!’ he cries as he touches my red bracelet. I may not know everything the bracelet does, but I like this part of it.
Once upright, I get my bearings. There are ten or twelve men in masks, all holding rifles. The man and woman who were speaking seem like they’re in charge. I look for Bernie, but don’t see him. Even so, I can hear him inside my head.
Just wait. Let’s see what they want and what they know.
‘What do you want with us?’ I ask the man with the broken nose.
He laughs and looks over at the woman. ‘What do we want, Special Agent Walker?’
‘For starters, I want to know who your friend is over there,’ she says, pointing the tube back at Nine.
‘I don’t know this kid,’ Nine says. He blows his hair out of his face and offers a smile. ‘I just stopped by to sell him a vacuum cleaner. The place looked like a dump and I thought he could use it.’
The man circles over to Nine. ‘Is that what you have in these fancy chests here? Vacuum cleaners?’ He nods to one of the other officers and says, ‘Let’s have a look at these vacuum cleaners, shall we? I may be interested in one myself.’
‘Be my guest.’ Nine’s smile is menacing. ‘I’m having a sale. Two for the price of three.’
For a split second, Nine and I make eye contact. Then Nine sweeps his eyes over to the wall, where a moth is hovering near the ceiling. Bernie Kosar. I’m sure Nine also heard BK’s orders to wait to see where this is going. I wonder if he’ll be able to control himself. One of the soldiers slaps a pair of handcuffs on Nine, and he quickly sits up again. I can see the handcuffs around his wrists are already broken. He’s only holding his hands together to keep up the charade.
Nine’s just waiting for the right time to attack. I don’t know if he ever intended to do as BK asked. I pull my arms apart behind me, quietly and easily breaking my own handcuffs. Whatever is about to happen, I’d better be ready.
A bunch of the men have surrounded Nine’s Chest. One of them is slamming the butt of his rifle over and over on the lock holding it closed, but it doesn’t have any effect. He smashes it a few more times anyway, clearly frustrated.
‘How about this.’ Special Agent Walker pulls out a revolver. She fires at the lock and the bullet ricochets around the room, barely missing another officer’s leg.
The broken-nose man grabs Nine by the back of his neck, pulls him to his feet, then shoves him forward. Nine can’t maintain the ruse of his handcuffs and braces his fall, landing on his hands and knees. Realizing Nine’s hands are now unrestrained, the man yells over his shoulder, ‘Somebody get me some more handcuffs! We’ve got a broken pair over here!’
His chin tucked into his chest, Nine’s whole body vibrates with laughter. He pops his legs out and does a pushup. Then he does another one. An officer kicks his right hand out from underneath him, but Nine doesn’t miss a beat. He does another pushup with just his left hand. The officer kicks at his left hand, but Nine is too fast to let that knock him over. His right hand is down in a flash and his one-handed pushup shows off his perfect form. Four officers jump on him, each one holding a leg or arm, but Nine just keeps on laughing. Suddenly, I find myself joining him. His bizarre sense of humor is infectious. Man, I have to give him props.