Arcade Catastrophe
Page 16

Ziggy raised his eyebrows. “All we need is for every crooked magician with a scheme and a few lackeys to find out that right now is the best opportunity in decades to risk some mischief. One major crisis is bad enough.”
“We want to help,” Summer said.
Victor sighed. “Bottom line? You’re kids. I don’t want to put on the heavy pressure. We could use your assistance, but we don’t require it. You now know the situation. Take some time to think it through. Talk things over with Sebastian Stott. We’ll back whatever choice you make.”
“Mozag saved me from being trapped as an old man,” Nate said. “John saved me too. They both spend their lives protecting us all from maniacs with magical powers. I have to help them. I’ll win one of those stamps. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
“Shouldn’t we talk to Mr. Stott first?” Pigeon asked.
“We should,” Nate said. “We could use whatever support he can offer. But whatever we decide to do, it won’t hurt to start winning some tickets.”
“You mean tonight?” Summer asked.
“I mean right now.”
*****
Nate returned to Arcadeland with Trevor and Summer. Pigeon had left to go talk things over with Mr. Stott. It was later in the afternoon, and the arcade was more crowded. Ziggy and Victor waited outside in the van as backup.
Scanning the room, Nate spotted Roman over at the shooting gallery, hunched over the counter with his cheek against a rifle. Nate crossed to him. Summer and Trevor followed but hung back.
“Do you ever go home?” Nate asked.
“You’re here too,” Roman replied, one eye shut as he prepared to shoot.
“Sick of basketball?”
“Some hotshot made the record unreachable today,” Roman replied. “And yes, I eventually get sick of it. Basketball is probably where I can average the most tickets per turn, but it gets old after I play it for too long.”
“How are the tickets for this game?” Nate asked.
Roman stopped aiming and looked up. “Not bad if you know the tricks.”
“What tricks?”
Roman hesitated for a moment. “Most people aim at the close stuff. They want to see the guy play the piano. They want to make the cow skull shake. They want the bottles behind the bar to spin. But the saloon has two windows.”
“Right,” Nate said. Outside one window four buzzards were circling in and out of view, each with a tiny target attached. A small train went by the other window, as if in the distance, an engine pulling four cars. Each train car had a target. The train moved fairly quickly, coming into view every fifteen seconds.
“The vultures don’t do much when you hit them. You just hear a faint squawk and the target lights up. The train does even less. The target lights up. That’s it. You get ten shots each turn. If you hit all four vultures on your turn, you get 25 tickets. If you hit all four train cars, you also earn 25. Those targets aren’t easy to hit, but if you get good, you can pick up 50 tickets per turn without much trouble. Using any other strategy, you’re lucky to get 10.”
“Thanks for the tips.”
Roman glanced back at Trevor and Summer. “I haven’t seen you guys around before today. You plan to hang out here much?”
“I like it here,” Nate said. “It’s the best arcade I’ve seen. I want one of those stamps.”
“Stamps?” Roman asked, trying much too hard to sound casual.
“Aren’t you after a stamp?”
“Why would I want a stamp?”
Nate shrugged. “They’re the most expensive prizes, and you keep working hard to earn more tickets even though you have a ton.”
Roman shook his head. “Chris and Risa are getting sloppy. They were so careful not to let anything slip before they had theirs.”
“Which one are you after?” Nate asked. “Jet, tank, racecar, or sub?”
“Which do you want?”
“I’m not sure,” Nate replied honestly. “That’s why I’m bugging you.”
Roman seemed like he wanted to end the conversation. “I want a jet. My friends have jets, so I want one.”
“What’s the big deal?” Nate pursued. “Why work so hard for the stamps?”
“I don’t know,” Roman replied, glancing around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. “Chris and Risa aren’t allowed to tell me. They just assure me it’s amazing. It better be. I’ve blown all my money on tickets.”
“Only two jet slots left, right?” Nate asked.
“I’ve gotten good at earning tickets,” Roman said. “I should have enough for one of them by tomorrow.”
“Are other kids after stamps?” Nate wondered.
“People are catching on,” Roman said. “You better hurry if you want one. The way you shoot a basketball, you could probably get there if you try.”
“You want the third jet stamp,” Nate said. “Is anybody after the fourth?”
“Nobody we care about,” Roman said. He glanced at Trevor and Summer. “Just don’t try to take both slots ahead of me. Chris and Risa would hate you for it, and so would I.”
“We don’t want to beat you,” Nate said. “Besides, you’re too far along. We couldn’t catch up even if we went nonstop. But my friends might go after other stamps. Who knows?”
“Hold on a second,” Roman said. “You’re wrecking my concentration. Let me finish up.”
“Go ahead.”
Nate watched as Roman lit up the buzzards and the train cars.
“The vultures are tricky,” Roman said. “You have to pay attention to the differences, make sure you hit one of each. Hitting the same one four times doesn’t do it.”
His last shot was at the train. Nothing lit up.
“You missed?” Nate asked.
“I’d already hit everything with the first nine,” Roman explained. He paused as if debating whether to say more. “Look, other people helped me, so I’ll help you. There are two bonus shots that are almost impossible. They aren’t marked. One is through the window of the engine. It’s worth a hundred tickets. I know it exists, because I’ve hit it twice. The other is a tiny star that shines behind the vultures for barely a second every two minutes. I’ve never hit it, but I saw Risa do it. You can only hit it while it’s lit. Supposedly if you hit all eight far targets plus the two bonus shots on a single turn, you get some kind of mega bonus.”