“I—” My brain rushes through options. I could take him inside right now, but there’s no way to guess how my parents would react. How do I know they’ll believe him, or me? They could even give Eli back to Candace, thinking that would be the safest option. I can’t trust they’ll make the right decision.
Then there’s the police—but I don’t have Officer Paul’s business card, and he’s the only one who might give us a chance. Officer Harrison had an opportunity to protect Eli, and he didn’t take it. Now Eli’s hurt.
“Please,” Eli says, his voice earnest even though his face is hidden. “I need to find my mom.”
“Does—does Candace know you left?”
“I locked her in the closet. But she’ll get out soon. Probably.” The shadow where Eli stands sways a little. I reach over to steady him. He’s shaking, even though his voice is steady. “I need to go now. How do I get to DC?”
“Aunt Lexie would know what to do,” I say, thinking out loud. “She’s a lawyer, and she works with kids like you. She’d believe us—she’d help. My phone’s on my bed upstairs. I could call her and she’d drive us to DC. Then—then it would be faster to find your mom, and we could tell her everything.”
“No, no. No one else.” His voice falters. “I need to find my mom.”
It’s like he can only think one thing, say one thing. He’s shaking worse and worse under my hand. Wonder Dog sits down beside Eli’s leg and leans against him.
“If Candace tries to catch you, we need my aunt on our side.” I shift away, glancing up at my bedroom window. “I’ll just grab my phone and—”
“No.” He draws a sharp breath and backs down the driveway. “If you’re going to break your promise again—”
“Wait!” I grab the sleeve of his hoodie to stop him from leaving. Invisibility superpowers or not, I know he can vanish. And if he does, I’ll lose him forever. “I’m sorry. I won’t tell my aunt. I won’t tell anyone. Just let me help.”
Eli doesn’t move. Doesn’t seem to inhale. But his shaking stops.
“Okay,” he agrees at last. “How do I get to DC?”
I bite my lip. The city is huge, and there must be about a million town houses. If we were superheroes, it’d be the work of a few minutes. As kids, I have no idea how to pull it off. But that doesn’t matter right now. I tried to help Eli my way, and now he’s worse off than before. And I absolutely can’t let him go alone.
“You can ride a bike, right?” I ask him. “For a few hours?”
Eli nods slowly. “I think so.”
“Okay.” I stand straighter. “I can get you to DC.”
“You’re coming?” he asks. I can’t see his face. I can’t tell if he sounds hopeful or nervous.
“Absolutely. Heroes don’t let heroes fight alone.” I nudge Wonder Dog over to him. I’m not totally positive Eli won’t just bolt if I leave him alone. “Hold Wonder. I have to get the bikes and her leash and stuff.”
Before he can say anything else, I take off down the driveway. Opening the main garage door would alert my parents that I’m outside. So I take the long way around, via the gate to the backyard.
At the other side of the house, I turn the knob on the smaller garage door. Sure enough, it hasn’t been locked for the night. I ease it open and step into the garage.
Everything’s dark. I hesitate. The light switch is inside the house and Wonder Dog might bark if I turn it on and my parents might wake up and then Eli will definitely run. Not worth the risk. Junk and storage bins are stacked up on either side of me with a narrow path down the middle. We always keep our bikes near the front, which ordinarily makes sense, but as I creep through the stuff, trying not to knock anything over, I’m not sure I’ll be able to fit them through this canyon.
I get around the mower and ease Mom’s bike aside so I can get mine out. I have to angle the handlebars so they won’t catch on each other. Walking backward and pulling the bike with me, I inch back the way I came. Everything’s harder in the dark, but my eyes adjust to the faint streetlight coming in through the small windows.
Finally, I reach the door again. I pull my bike out onto the back patio and put the kickstand down. Then I run in for my dad’s bike. Eli isn’t as tall as him, but we can adjust the seat. While I’m there, I grab Wonder Dog’s leash off Mom’s bike and stuff it under my arm. At the last minute, I remember to get two helmets—I loop their straps around my other arm. Fully loaded with equipment, I again make the journey to the patio.
Dad’s bike is harder to maneuver, and the pedals snag on a box.
I freeze, but all remains quiet inside the house.
Soon I tug Dad’s bike out next to mine. I just need one more thing: water. If I’ve learned anything from our weekend outings, it’s that you never go on a long ride without plenty of water.
One of my backpacks is hanging by the door to the basement. I pull it down, open the garage fridge, and stuff several water bottles inside. I slip my notepad in a secure pocket, too, and check to make sure I have some spare pens. Knowing the supplies are there calms a quivery, jittery part of me, and I can finally take a deep breath.
Sorry, I think to my parents. Then I take my bike’s handlebar in one hand and Dad’s in the other and—wobbly and slow—walk them around the side of the house, through the gate, and down the driveway.
“Eli?” I whisper.
And there he is, again, appearing out of nothing. Wonder Dog wags her tail at me but doesn’t bark. Maybe she’s catching on to the etiquette of espionage. In a few minutes, I’ve got Eli’s seat adjusted, helmets on both of us, and Wonder Dog attached to my bike.
“We need to get to the Mount Vernon Trail,” I say to Eli as I kick off from the driveway. He follows my example, less steady on his bike. Wonder Dog trots at my side. “Technically no one’s supposed to be on it after sunset. But I think it’ll be okay.”
“What if we’re caught?” he asks, coming up beside me.
I shake my head. “The trail is near the road, but my family’s driven down the parkway loads of times and you can’t see the path—not with headlights on. We’ll be fine.”
I hope. I don’t exactly have experience breaking the law for a noble cause. But it’s also true that I’ve never seen anyone on the trail at night.
We cruise to the bottom of the long, easy hill and approach the first big road. I roll to a stop and lean out to check for traffic. During the day, it’s always busy—commuters and visitors and tour buses—but right now it’s almost abandoned.
Almost. A car approaches from the right, so I walk my bicycle back where the trees will hide us. Eli follows. Wonder Dog leans against my leg. My heart pounds harder than it has in my entire life as the car gets closer. Closer. If it turns onto our street, we’re doomed.
This is nuts, I think. We’re going to get caught.
Trying to swallow down the panic clawing at my throat, I whisper to Eli, “Hey, Eli, do you think you could use your invisibility? Keep us hidden?”
Eli glances at me without turning his head. After a moment, he answers, “Sure. Done.”
The car goes past without turning. We’re clear.
“Keep it up,” I say, grinning at him with relief. I stand to use maximum speed while we cross the parkway. As soon as I’m over—Wonder next to me, Eli right behind—I shoot past the Riverside parking lot and turn left onto the trail. In moments, we’re surrounded by trees.
My nerves buzz like I’ve got tiny sparks zinging through my skin. My fingers tingle and my heartbeat keeps going superfast. Though ordinarily I’d be in bed by now, I’m nowhere near tired. I could bike all night long and still be alert.
I’ve done this trail before, but normally I have the whole day to cover the fourteen miles between us and the city. It’s not going to be easy getting there like this, at night, with possibly Candace or my parents trying to find us.
“We need to conserve our energy,” I say to Eli when he catches up. I force myself to pedal slower. “It’s a long way to DC.�
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“Got it,” he says. He already sounds almost out of breath.
We cross a wooden bridge, and the slats rumble under us. Eli swerves, unprepared.
“Careful!” I call.
He steadies the bike. We bump back onto the normal paved trail, and my legs settle into a rhythm. Eli stays beside me. I hear him take a deep, deep breath and exhale.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Sort of … weird.” He glances at me. “Not bad. Just … weird.”
“Like, electric weird?”
He shakes his head. “Like … floating weird. Falling weird.”
I take a mental note so I can add it to my record later. The moon flits in and out behind thick clouds, and as my eyes adjust, it becomes easier to see the smooth paved path between the trees. For a few minutes, the only noises are the shhh shhh of our wheels and gears, and the thump-thump of Wonder’s paws, and the splashing of the Potomac River against rocks. My legs go up, down, up, down. My shoulders start to ache from the extra weight in my backpack.
“What’s the first thing you’ll do once—you know—you find your mom?” I ask Eli.
He’s silent for a moment. “I’ll go back to school.”
I laugh. “You must really like school. I definitely would have put cookies or something at the top of my list.”
“I do. Or, did. I’m good at following instructions. I always knew what I needed to do.”
I nod, thoughtful. “I guess school is kind of safe, huh?”
“It was for me.”
The Potomac, on our right, gleams. It smells like rotten trash. Moisture pricks along my exposed arms, the heaviness of a storm that’s not quite here. If it could just hold off until we make it to DC, that would be awesome.
Cars pass on our left, their headlights flashing over the trees between us and them. For now, we’re well hidden. The drivers zoom by, oblivious. I wonder where they’re going and what they’ll do when they arrive and whether anything exciting is happening to them. In their stories, Eli and I are just margin notes. Those drivers don’t even know their lives have just brushed shoulders with ours.
Another headlight beam catches on the bushes ahead of Eli and me. But it stays there—it doesn’t keep going. I stop pedaling and look over my shoulder.
A car is coming down the parkway, moving slow—really, really slow. Like it’s looking for something.
I hit my brakes and hiss, “Eli! Stop!”
He obeys, shooting me a confused look. Then his eyes catch on the car, creeping closer.
“Hide,” I whisper. For all I know, whoever’s in there could be listening with their windows down. As quietly and quickly as possible, I lift my bike a few inches and step toward the river, away from the road, to add an extra layer of cover between us and the lights. Wonder Dog sticks close to me, though she tries to have a sniff at the leaves. Eli tugs his bike after us, and we both crouch, watching. I slip an arm around Wonder to hold her down.
The headlights grow clearer. They’re a distinct circle shape. I don’t know the model of the car, but I know those are unusual.
“It’s Lady Liar,” Eli murmurs.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“Candace. Lady Liar.” He stares straight at the car. “Successful businesswoman and popular hostess by day, builder of underground operations at night.”
I nod, catching on. “People are convinced she’s the best thing since organic bath bombs, but we know her true identity. She’s a supervillain.”
“Don’t worry. Invisibility is engaged at maximum.”
Even so, I hold completely still, hardly breathing. The car inches by. It continues crawling along the road, brake lights flashing red every now and then. Finally, finally, it disappears into the distance.
I let out my breath. We have hours of biking ahead of us. Some of it will be totally out in the open. All it will take is bad timing for us and great timing for Candace and we’ll be sitting ducks.
A part of me doesn’t want to leave this spot.
Eli stands, taking the handlebars of Dad’s bike. “Ready?”
I look up at him. His expression is grim, determined. He’s going with or without me.
“Yes.” Checking to be sure there’s absolutely, definitely no sign of Candace and her car, I pull my bike onto the path again. I lower my voice to a Wonder Woman-ish grown-up hero tone. “Come, Invisible Boy! To Washington!”
He swings his leg over the bar. “On your signal, Lightning Lane.”
I grin and push off.
Right about then, the first raindrop hits my nose.
Chapter 20
LIGHTNING LANE VS. STORM
The single drop turns to a continuous downpour. It gets hard to see the path in front of us, and we have to move more carefully. Eli and I don’t really talk—we’re too focused on keeping our bikes steady. Wonder Dog doesn’t have a problem with the water and keeps up without any sign that she’s tired.
After what feels like hours, we hit the first long stretch of trail that runs right next to the road. No trees to conceal us. I slow and touch my foot to the ground, twisting to look at Eli. His soaked hair flops on his forehead. The cut is way more uneven than I noticed before.
“We need to watch for cars,” I tell him, raising my voice against the pounding rain. I reach down to rub Wonder’s ear. “If we see one, we should get on the side of the trail by the Potomac. There’s not a whole lot to hide behind … but I think the curve of the hill will keep us out of view.”
Eli nods. Water drips off his nose.
“Okay,” I say, half to him and half to myself. I give Wonder Dog a pat on the head and face forward. The road and the long, unlit path stretch out in front of me, and—in the distance—the lights of Old Town Alexandria glimmer. “Okay. Here goes nothing.”
I take the lead, pedaling into the wide open where anyone could see us. Even with the dark and the rain, I feel completely exposed. I’m not sure how late it is now, but we’re definitely past the time where we could pretend to be stupid kids who didn’t realize the trail was closed, who just wanted to do some innocent night biking, etc. If a cop patrols the parkway—and they do, sometimes—or a friendly driver spots us, we are in huge trouble.
And those are the best-case scenarios. If Candace catches us, what’s going to happen?
I try to keep my imagination in check, but I have some very vivid ideas: She could chuck us in the Potomac. She could lock us in a closet forever. She could tie us to metro rails. She could …
“Nadia,” Eli says behind me. “Slow down. I can’t keep up.”
“Oh.” I check my pace and let my bike idle. Eli’s almost ten feet back. “Sorry.”
We continue to follow the trail. The town gets steadily closer.
Then, far away and on the other side of the street, headlights appear. A car. Coming this way.
“Take cover!” I call to Eli, slamming my brakes and throwing myself off my bike and dragging it (and Wonder Dog) behind a bushy, low-branched tree. Eli joins us a second later, breathing hard. Wonder licks rainwater off our faces while we both kneel. The car approaches, fast—this person is in a hurry to get somewhere.
The headlights are perfect circles. The same shape as Candace’s.
The car zooms by, heading in the direction we came from. My stomach tightens.
“Lady Liar?” I ask Eli.
He shakes his head. He was crouching, but now he sits on the soggy ground. “I couldn’t tell.”
Wonder Dog climbs into Eli’s lap, giving him curious sniffs. Since we’ve already stopped, I open my backpack. Despite the rain, the inside seems pretty dry—though my soaked hands can’t really feel the difference.
“Here.” I pull out a water bottle and pass it to Eli. “We’ll rest a few minutes.”
He opens it while I get another one for myself. After a few sips, I pour the water into the tiny cap and let Wonder have a drink. As my heart slows to a normal pace, my body starts to ache. My leggings are soaked, my
shirt is soaked, my braids are soaked, and the rain just keeps coming. It’s the sort of rain that’s somewhere between muggy-horrible and cold-horrible. I take another swallow of water and try to make my muscles relax.
Wonder lays her head on Eli’s leg, and he absently rests a hand on her back. My gaze catches on his jeans—still the nice pair he wore when he talked to the cops. And he’s wearing the like-new shoes, too.
“Where’d you get those clothes?” I ask.
“Candace had a rule.” He tugs his sleeve. “If official people came by, she’d call me Elijah. And I had to change into this special outfit. We practiced a few times. I got really fast at changing.”
“Oh.” Just the sort of scheming one might expect from a supervillain. “How did you end up with her, anyway? With Lady Liar, I mean.”
Eli rubs Wonder Dog’s ear between his fingers. Finally, he says, “My dad left me with her. I think he owed her money.”
“Your dad left you?” I echo, staring.
“That was actually one of the nicest things he ever did.” The corner of his mouth tilts, but not really in a smile. “Anyway. I was supposed to pay off the debt, but Candace said that keeping me cost more than I was helping her, so it just got bigger and bigger. I figured out a while ago that she wasn’t ever going to let me leave.”
“What about your mom?” I ask. “Why didn’t she stop it?”
“She wasn’t there.” He shifts. “She got arrested when I was a kid, and the judge gave me to my dad. I didn’t even know she was out until my dad handed me the photo with her at the town house, right before he dropped me off at Candace’s. Candace said that if I behaved, she might give me to my mom instead of him. But I don’t think she meant it.”
“That’s awful,” I murmur. The words feel small, but I don’t know what else there is to say. If that was Candace’s car, where was she headed? And why was she going so fast?
We need to keep moving.
The rain lightens a bit, at last. I stand, brushing the mud and grass off my leggings, then pull my bike off the ground. Wonder hops up and resumes her place beside me.
Eli groans as he pushes himself to his feet. For a second, he presses his arm against his side. Then he gets his bike.
The Invisible Boy Page 14