The steel behind him quivered. He pressed his back harder against it. He felt a quick pulse through his T-shirt. The steel had come alive.
This was as far as MythBusters had gotten. When they built their own Oscillator and hooked it up to a bridge, the steel vibrated, but nothing else happened. Or at least that’s what they said on the show. If it had started to affect the bridge’s structure, he bet they would have covered that up. Not a good idea to broadcast how to knock down bridges.
He had to figure out a way to get the Bitcoins before he dropped off the device. He didn’t trust Ash. He’d wanted to believe in him as a crusader for the environment and freedom, but after Ash had threatened to expose his identity, he had no choice but to view him as a crook on a power trip. Or maybe a powerful guy on a power trip. Dangerous either way.
The steel behind him shivered more violently now. That hadn’t happened on MythBusters.
He stood and stared up at the structure above. The tracks themselves seemed to shiver, as if they, too, were affected by the oscillation in this one beam. He touched the device, trying to decide whether to turn it off, and it burned his fingers.
He sucked on his fingers, trying to decide what to do. If he turned it off now, all he’d know was that the device caused low-level vibrations in steel. That wasn’t particularly valuable or interesting.
An ominous crack sounded from above. He jerked his head up. Rust and dirt rained down on him. The column creaked.
His jaw dropped open. He hadn’t really expected the device to work. Another crack sounded from the elevated tracks, and the pieces of rust and dirt were larger than before.
Good enough. He tried to turn the device off. The damn dial wouldn’t turn. Hard to believe that the famous Nikola Tesla had built something with such an obvious flaw. He unscrewed the clamps and caught the Oscillator in his shirt before it hit the pavement. The creaking slowed as he dumped the hot device in his bag.
A siren sounded down the street, heading right toward him. He cut across the street and walked until he found a good working-class bar that smelled of beer and wood.
He ordered a shot of whiskey and drank it in one gulp. The bartender, a slight man wearing a denim shirt straight out of the seventies, held up the bottle to ask if he wanted another. He nodded, but let the second shot sit on the bar.
Sirens converged on the elevated tracks. It sounded as if they were going to exactly the spot where he had attached the device.
He swallowed the second shot of whiskey. The device in his bag was the most powerful thing he’d ever held. Nikola Tesla had been right. It could bring down the Empire State Building, or anything else.
Did he really want to give someone like Ash that power?
Chapter 36
Joe had to get away from the window. Light reached across the carpet with flaming claws. They would rip him open and kill him.
Blinding pain flashed down from his head. It didn’t matter. He would feel it later. Now he had to escape. He had to escape, or he would die.
He lurched across the carpet away from the light, but something caught him. A heavy bar rested against his throat. His legs collapsed under him as he fought to get away. The bar pressed in relentlessly, choking off his air. He grabbed at it. The bar felt warm under his fingers, like skin. He tore at it, but it did not move.
Darkness replaced the pain in his head. He liked darkness better than light, but he fought it anyway. He had to get away.
A screech behind him. The sunlight’s claws withdrew. Safer, but not safe.
A man pinioned his arms to his sides. He tried to lunge toward him, but the bar against his neck wouldn’t let him move.
He recognized a face now. The man. He’d seen him before.
“It’s OK, Mr. Tesla,” said a voice in his ear. “It’s OK.”
The voice was familiar. Even the words were familiar. A woman. He knew her.
“I don’t want to choke you out, but I will.” She sounded so calm and matter-of-fact.
Vivian. Vivian Torres.
“Joseph Tesla, you calm down this instant.” His mother spoke behind him.
Vivian swung him around to face the voice.
His mother stood against a wall. She held the edge of a closed curtain in her hand. She looked pale and frightened, which was odd because his mother never looked frightened.
“It’s Vivian Torres, Mr. Tesla,” said the woman holding his throat. “I’ve got you, and everything is gonna be OK.”
Joe relaxed. The light was gone. He trusted her.
She had him in a choke hold, but she loosened it a notch when he relaxed. He could breathe again. The black around the edges of his vision went away.
His head pounded, red and insistent, and he felt sick and faint. He’d been hurt. He was in a hospital room. It was dark now, but it hadn’t been a moment ago.
A man in a white coat stood next to his mother. His mouth hung open, and his eyes were wide with surprise.
Something warm and sticky dripped down Joe’s neck. Blood. He’d hurt his head, and he’d been brought to a hospital, and he was bleeding.
He tensed again. Outside. He must have gone outside to reach this place.
“Home.” He tried to face the woman who was holding on to his neck, but she didn’t let go. They both almost fell, but the man next to her pushed them against the wall.
“Soon,” Vivian said. “I promise.”
She let go of his neck and moved her hands to his shoulders as if she expected him to fall. He might. His heart galloped in panic. He had to slow it down. He had to breathe and count.
But he couldn’t. His head hurt too much, and he was afraid of the window. He looked toward the window at the closed curtain.
Vivian turned him so that he faced her. Her brown eyes looked into his. She didn’t look frightened. She smiled at him. She had a safe smile. “It’s all going to be fine.”
“Take me home.” The words came out loud and fast, but that didn’t scare her.
“As soon as I can.” Her hands were warm against his shoulders.
“Now.” He had to make her understand. “Please.”
Sickness rose up inside him.
A flash of white in his peripheral vision. Someone was coming at him. Joe turned his head fast and was overwhelmed by dizziness. A man in a white coat had pulled something from his coat pocket. He broke it in two, and a piece fell onto the carpet. The cap. He’d uncapped something.
Joe stumbled toward the door again. He had to get away. His head hurt so much, he thought it might explode. The man in white kept coming. A sting in his arm. He reached a hand to his arm to feel it. But his hand wouldn’t listen. His legs wouldn’t listen. He threw up on the man in the white coat, pitched forward, and the world went black.
Chapter 37
Vivian felt the doctor had it coming when Tesla vomited on him. The guy had opened the curtain without thinking. He clearly hadn’t known about Tesla’s agoraphobia, but he should have.
She couldn’t blame him for the shot, though — Tesla had looked ready to bolt again. The stuff worked. Tesla went limp as a corpse, but she and Dirk caught him before he hit the ground.
Dirk took his feet, she kept his head and shoulders, and they lifted him onto the bed. She smoothed the blue blanket over him. His head lolled to the side, and she carefully straightened it. She bit back the angry words she wanted to say to the neurologist. Instead, she looked at Tesla lying there, having had to face his greatest fear in front of them.
She took Tesla’s pulse. Slow and steady. He was out.
Dr. Winterbottom took off his puke-covered coat, folded it twice, then rang for a nurse.