Arcade Catastrophe
Page 66

“Subs can sense things in the water,” Summer said, wanting to appear helpful. “They’ll probably sense us wherever we go. Our best bet is to get across as fast as possible.”
“Good thinking,” Roman said. “I’ll keep hold of the statue. You guys make a triangle around me.”
They ran to the side of the island facing Tiburon without encountering any of the Jets. They dove into the water and started swimming. Summer kept her arms and legs thrashing, hoping the exertion would help her get over the shock of the cold water.
“Don’t go top speed unless we get attacked,” Roman huffed. He seemed to be having trouble keeping afloat with the statue cradled in one arm.
“You all right?” Summer asked.
“Isn’t easy,” Roman replied. “We’re stronger, and we’re moving faster than normal. But we’re also heavier. I feel the Protector’s weight more in the water. I’ll make it. Don’t worry about me. You guys keep an eye out for the Jets.”
*****
Nate floated motionlessly beside Lindy, Chris, and Risa as the Tanks swam away from Angel Island, arms and legs churning with inhuman speed. He couldn’t see them with his eyes, but he could sense every stroke. Roman was barely keeping his head above water, flailing along with a small statue in the crook of one arm.
“We’ll wait until they’re out in the middle,” Nate said. “They won’t see us coming. Lindy and I will snag Roman.”
Nate held one end of a rope they had stolen from a boathouse. Lindy clutched the other end. Chris and Risa had a rope as well. When you could fly, it was easy to forage.
“If you miss him, we move in,” Risa confirmed.
“Right,” Nate said. “Lindy and I will use the rope to drag Roman down away from the others. Once he hands over the Protector, we’ll pull him back up.”
“He’s stubborn,” Chris warned. “And he’s still mad at us. He won’t give it up easily.”
“Stubborn or not,” Nate said, “when you don’t have air, nothing else matters.”
“You won’t let him get hurt,” Risa checked.
“No way,” Nate said. “The last thing I want to do is hurt anybody. I’m more worried about us. If those Tanks get hold of us, we could really get hurt. Especially if they’re panicked.”
“Like they will be if they’re drowning,” Chris said. “I don’t like this. Somebody is going to get thrashed.”
“I don’t like it either,” Nate said. “But we can’t let them have the Protector. It’s not an option. Somebody needs to mess up Mr. White’s plans. Unless we get the Protector, we’ll be in no position to do it. Let’s get ready.”
Nate and the others drifted along about fifteen feet below the Tanks. As they approached the midpoint between the island and the peninsula, Nate gave a signal to Lindy. The two of them rose up through the water, moving with the ease of flight, until they were almost within reach of the Tanks’ flailing limbs. Up close Nate had a better appreciation for how quickly they were moving.
Leaving Lindy on one side of Roman, Nate surged up out of the water, leaping over him and draping the wet rope across his back. They both swam down swiftly, allowing Roman no time to recover. By the time he twisted free, he was twenty feet below.
As Roman tried to stroke upward, Chris and Risa swept in with their rope stretched between them. The rope caught him around his midsection, and they dragged him almost to the bottom.
Moving in a frightening blur, Roman yanked on the rope with his free arm, trying to pull Chris closer. Chris and Risa released the rope and kept out of reach. Freed from the rope’s pull, Roman had clearly gone into overdrive. He swam upward with three limbs, making only modest progress considering how fast his arms and legs were moving.
Above, the other Tanks were diving down, but they obviously could see nothing, and their futile search stayed confined to the ten feet nearest the surface. Nate stayed aware of them but didn’t feel the need to worry.
Suddenly Roman was no longer moving in fast motion. Not at all. He shoved the statue aside and stroked pathetically for the surface. Nate sensed the abandoned statue sinking. At first Nate didn’t understand the hasty surrender. Roman had barely been underwater for ten seconds. Then the realization hit.
“Roman used his fastest mode,” Nate called, already swimming to help him. “Every second to us was like ten to him. That’s a long time without breathing. He’s drowning.”
When Nate and Lindy snared Roman with their rope, he clung to it. They surged for the surface, angling away from the other Tanks.
*****
“Where is he?” Derek shouted in frustration.
“I don’t know,” Summer replied. “I can’t see anything.”
After Roman was sucked under, Derek and Ruth had shifted into top speed. Summer had followed suit in order to avoid looking suspicious.
“He’s been under a long time,” Ruth fretted.
They were no longer diving down. Summer supposed you could only dive to look at blackness a certain number of times before it began to feel useless. The Jets could have dragged Roman away in any direction. And Ruth was right—he had been under a long time.
“Are they trying to kill him?” Derek asked angrily. He squinted at his compass in frustration.
“No,” Summer realized. “It only seems like a long time to us. And if Roman is at top speed, it seems like a long time for him too. But the Jets might not know.”
“They could drown him by accident,” Ruth gasped.
“Let’s go back to race mode,” Summer said. Staying at top speed was starting to make her woozy.
Not long after she slipped out of her fastest state, Summer saw Nate and Lindy burst from the water twenty yards away. They left Roman behind, slowly gasping and flailing.
“Why is he moving so slowly?” Derek asked.
“He caught on,” Summer realized, switching back to her fastest state and stroking over to him. “He slowed down to conserve oxygen.”
Nate and Lindy were flying back toward the peninsula. Summer and the other Tanks reached Roman. They slowed back to race mode.
“Help him float,” Summer ordered. She slowed down to regular speed. “Just rest,” she told Roman. “We’ll hold you up.”
Between wheezing and coughing, Roman managed to speak. “I lost it. I lost the statue. I was drowning. They pulled me deep. It was heavy. I couldn’t swim up . . . fast enough.”