Arcade Catastrophe
Page 32

 Brandon Mull

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Lindy, Chris, and Risa glided through the air around him. Lindy was the most tentative, Risa the most aggressive, swooshing along within inches of the walls, ceiling, and floor.
“You’re catching on fast,” Chris commented, soaring alongside Nate.
“Now that I’m doing it, flying feels pretty natural,” Nate said.
Chris grinned. He slowed, and Nate came to a stop beside him, fifteen feet above the floor. “Risa and I have talked about the same thing. It feels like we had this power all along, and Mr. White just woke it up.”
“Have you had flying dreams?” Nate asked.
“Sure.”
“It’s sort of like that’s how I got my practice.”
“Just wait,” Chris said. “Risa and I have had flying dreams practically nonstop since all of this started. Once I woke up pressed to the ceiling in my room.”
“How long ago did you get your stamp?”
“More than two weeks. I had been hanging around the arcade a lot, and Todd drew my attention to the stamps. After I earned one, I told Risa and Roman they had to get their own. She earned hers quickly, but Roman got grounded, and then you guys showed up.”
“I really am sorry about him missing a jet stamp,” Nate said.
“I believe you,” Chris said hesitantly. “I’m not looking forward to competing against Roman. He’s going to be mad, and the kid knows how to win.”
“Some of my friends will be against us too,” Nate said. “Should keep things interesting.”
“Check it out,” Chris said, pointing.
Risa was inserting poles into sockets around the room in the walls, ceiling, and floor. Each pole held a ring.
“What’s with the rings?” Nate asked.
“Training exercise,” Chris said. “It’s one thing to fly, and another to do stuff while you’re flying. The rings are good practice. I also like playing catch. When you’re flying around, it’s harder than you might guess.”
“Is this what you guys do mostly?” Nate asked. “Fly around in here? Train and stuff?”
“Mostly,” Chris replied. “Mr. White has sent us on a couple of errands lately. We get something for him, and he pays us well.”
“Pays you with what?”
“Money.”
“Right. Are you stealing stuff?”
“Sort of,” Chris admitted. “But he isn’t going to keep it. We’re just borrowing things he needs for his treasure hunt. He promised to return it all in the end.”
Nate remembered Mrs. White sending them to “borrow” items for her. She had sometimes pretended they were recovering family heirlooms. “What have you gotten?”
“A book from a museum near Sacramento,” Chris said.
“Sacramento? That’s pretty far.”
“Not so far when you’re flying,” Chris explained. “We can get up to around a hundred miles per hour in the open sky. We went at night, of course. We had night vision goggles. You’d be surprised how easily you can nab stuff when you can fly. We set off some alarms, but none of the guards or police had a chance. ”
“What else have you taken?” Nate probed.
“An old doll from a mansion near San Anselmo, in Marin County.”
“A doll?”
“An ancient one like you might see at a museum. It was made of wood and carved all weird.”
“Native American?”
“Probably. We didn’t study it. We just snatched it. Mr. White will give it back later. We left $10,000 as a rental fee.”
“They rented it to you?” Nate asked.
“We didn’t ask permission. Mr. White paid us a bunch, too, since it wasn’t directly part of the treasure hunt. We were helping with his preparations.”
“Think we’ll get more of those assignments?” Nate wondered.
“I don’t know,” Chris said. “The last two times it came as a surprise.”
Risa glided over to them, handing Nate a short wooden baton.
“What’s this?” Nate asked.
“Use it to collect the rings,” she said. “They’re clamped loosely to the poles. They’ll pop off with a little force. See how quickly you can round them up.”
Nate rubbed his hands together. “Are you going to time me?”
Producing a stopwatch, Risa gave a nod. “Let’s get started.”
*****
When Summer entered the training facility with a short, freckly kid, Nate was playing catch with the three other Jets. They used a black, undersized football. Risa could throw and catch almost as well as Chris, but Lindy was practically hopeless, catching fewer than one in ten of the balls thrown her way.
Nate hardly dropped any. It had not taken him long to learn to anticipate the trajectory of the ball and to get into position for just about any throw that came near him. He loved when the football was a little ahead of him and he could accelerate to come alongside it, then pluck the ball out of the air almost as if it were standing still. Once he glanced off the wall fairly hard, missing a catch, and once he narrowly avoided colliding with the floor, swooping up just in time, the toes of his shoes grazing blue gymnastics mats.
“Wow,” Summer called from the floor of the facility. “I’ve never seen a flock of kids before!”
Nate, Chris, Risa, and Lindy landed near Summer and her companion.
“Hi, Derek,” Chris said. “I see you found a friend.”
“Two Tanks are better than one,” Derek replied.
“You’re a Jet, Lindy?” Summer asked in surprise.
“I worked at it on my own,” Lindy explained.
Risa looked around. “I have a feeling this place will start getting busy.”
“Todd told me that a lot of kids are getting close to enough tickets for a stamp,” Derek said. “You guys playing catch?” He held up his hands for the ball.
Risa handed it over.
“Go long,” Derek said.
Chris and Risa streaked toward the far corner of the room. Derek made an amazing throw, the ball streaking up toward the far corner of the huge warehouse with hardly any arc. Chris reached to make the catch, but the ball slapped off his hands and into the wall. Risa curved down and caught the football before it struck the floor.
Nate looked at Derek with new respect. He doubted whether the strongest NFL quarterback could have thrown the ball so hard. “I guess being a Tank makes you stronger?”
Summer leaned close to him. “It’s like an Ironhide, plus you weigh more, plus you’re stronger. And it lasts for two days.”