Payback

by Gordon Korman

  I want to scream: That’s not right! The right thing to do is always so clear to me—like it’s directly overhead in skywriting. Why can’t Malik see that? Why can’t Tori?

  And yet—

  I’m cloned from someone who also thought she was always doing the right thing. And Mickey Seven went on to be one of the most notorious terrorists in history.

  For once in my life, I have to abandon my instincts and follow the others.

  Margaret is bewildered. “Why are you talking about my mother like she’s the enemy?”

  “You’ll have to trust us,” Eli says briskly. “We’ll explain later.”

  “No!” Penelope exclaims. “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on!”

  “Then you can be caught too!” Malik snaps. “Give my regards to Aldwin!”

  It’s a good thing Margaret and Penelope grew up with Malik. Otherwise, they’d be running in the opposite direction.

  “Spread out!” Tori orders in an undertone. Even in a busy water park, a stampede of ten kids would attract attention we can’t afford.

  We separate into clusters of two and three, jogging rather than sprinting, following Tori and Eli in the lead. I hear the others breathing hard around me, and the dull rhythm of their bare feet on the pathways. Short, slight, unathletic Hector is especially struggling, soaking wet from head to toe, the fabric of his bathing suit swishing with every stride. Thanks to my workout routine, I’m feeling strong.

  I keep a close eye on Margaret and Penelope, who can’t possibly trust us. At least the boys have enough information to make up their minds whether or not to believe our story. The girls are with us on blind faith alone. At the same time, I scan left and right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aldwin. Maybe we can’t search the entire resort for him. But if we happen to run into him, nobody could argue that he shouldn’t come along.

  The crowd thins out as we approach the edge of the water park. From there, it’s just a quarter-mile to where we left the boat. I’m beginning to think that we might actually pull this off when I spot her.

  Mom.

  God help me, for a split second I’m thrilled to see her. Unbelievable! In spite of everything, part of me actually misses the bogus mother who deceived me every day of my life. Who pretended to love me while studying me for signs that I might be turning into the terrorist I was cloned from. How weak I am!

  But before I can wrap my mind around those whirling thoughts, a new emotion takes over: raw fear. How can we get caught when we’re so close? And by her, of all people?

  I wait for the startled recognition, the accusing finger pointed in my direction. It doesn’t happen.

  Doesn’t she see me?

  She’s wearing earbuds, lost in the world of her music. I angle my face away from her, watching out of the corner of my eye.

  She casts a friendly wave in the direction of Margaret and Penelope, yet somehow manages to miss her own “daughter.” I pass an uneasy few seconds, worrying that the girls might give us away. They have no reason to go along with us. But they smile and wave back, if a little uneasily. They’ve got more guts than we give them credit for. After all, they’re cloned from criminals too.

  And then a voice over my opposite shoulder exclaims, “Mrs. Laska, help! They’re trying to take us away!”

  Freddie breaks from Malik and Ben and rushes toward my Serenity mother.

  That gets her attention and then some. She tears off her sunglasses, sending them flying. Aghast, she stares from face to face until her gaze falls on me. Her oh-so-familiar eyes burn through me like lasers. Her shriek is unearthly.

  “Amber!!”

  She reaches into the pocket of her shorts and pulls out her phone. I make a bull run at her, throwing myself at her knees. The impact knocks her over backward. Tori rips the phone from her hand and hurls it into a kiddie pool.

  We’re both rolling in the dirt when she says, “Amber—sweetheart—”

  I’m astounded. “You’re delusional! Do you honestly think I’ll fall for that? Are you so crazy that you think we can go back to the way things used to be?”

  Malik hauls me to my feet and shoves me in the direction of our boat.

  Freddie grabs Ben by the arm, spinning him around. “Don’t go!” he begs.

  But after a moment’s hesitation, Ben shakes him off and joins our getaway, running down the path. The girls look really scared, but they stick with us too. We leave the water park and turn on the jets, making for the line of palm trees that marks the edge of West Cay. Beyond that, we know, is the sandbar where we beached the Gemini. Escape is that close. I feel bad about Aldwin, and even a little bit about Freddie. But nine clones living in freedom is better than eleven under the jackboot of Project Osiris.

  We burst out of the trees and stand on the beach, staring at our boat—or at least what we can see of it. Only the wheelhouse and the light at the top of the mast are above water.

  Malik gawks at the Gemini’s bridge, tilted at an odd angle and rocking with the gentle waves. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  I’m too devastated to point out what a truly idiotic question that is. “It sank!”

  “How?” Malik demands.

  Eli’s face is ashen. “We must have put a hole in the bottom when we ran it aground on that sandbar,” he moans. “All day long, while we’ve been running around saving people, our only way out has been sinking!”

  His despair bubbles into me in the form of pure anger and frustration. The Mickey Seven in me wants to break something—or maybe it isn’t her at all, and I’m just plain rotten. Anyway, the only thing around to break is the boat, and it’s already broken.

  The shocked silence is shattered by a staccato peal of laughter. Hector has sat down in the sand and is cackling at the sight of the sunken wreck as if nothing has ever been funnier.

  Malik hauls him up by one skinny arm. “You did this!”

  “How could I?” Hector defends himself. “Nobody told me where the boat was.”

  “You ratted us out to Osiris! They found the boat and sank it!”

  “I’ve been with you the whole time!” Hector protests. “Every single minute!”

  “Then why are you laughing?” I snarl.

  “Because when you’re me, you expect everything to go wrong. If you don’t laugh, you cry.”

  “Leave him alone, Malik,” I grumble. “It’s not his fault we’re in this mess.”

  Malik drops Hector back to the beach.

  Penelope speaks up. “I don’t get it. Where were we supposed to go in that boat?”

  “Away from here,” Eli replies bitterly. “Away from our parents, who aren’t really—never mind. It’s all over now.”

  “Not necessarily.” Tori steps forward. “There’s a whole marina on the other side of the hotel. They’ve got a lot of boats. We stole this one; we can steal another.”

  “Steal?” Robbie echoes in amazement.

  He’s goggling at us, and so are the others. I look at them and see myself—innocent, clueless, brainwashed Serenity kids. They’re fresh out of the land of honesty, harmony, and contentment. People don’t even tell lies there, much less break the law. To Robbie, Ben, Margaret, and Penelope, we might as well have just said we’re going to levitate off the beach and fly out of here.

  In spite of our dire situation, I can’t help smiling. “It’s time to grab your criminal DNA and take it out for a test-drive.”

  25

  ELI FRIEDEN

  No way can we cut through the water park now. Mrs. Laska and Mrs. Rauha must be already sounding the alarm, and we can’t forget Rump L. Stiltskin. It’s been more than half an hour since Ben and Freddie vanished from his view in the wave pool, and he’s got to be anxious. Who knows how many Purples he’s got out there searching for them?

  Our strategy is to hike along the coastline. That way, we can get to the marina while avoiding the crowded Poseidon attractions where Project Osiris will be looking for us. It’s certainly not the most direct path. Jus
t around the bend from the sunken Gemini, the beach ends, to be replaced by an outcropping of rocky coral.

  “Can we climb it?” I suggest.

  “If you’re a mountain goat,” grumbles Malik, peering up at the jagged, inhospitable rocks without much enthusiasm.

  “We could make it,” Tori muses, “but it’s probably better to cut inland around it. We’d be too easy to spot going over the top. Plus it’s rough terrain to cover barefoot.”

  The inland route has its own problems, though. The trees are thick and slow us down. I can’t shake the image of parents and Purples converging from all over the resort, sharing what they know, and making plans to capture us. Our one advantage was the element of surprise—they weren’t expecting us. Now that’s gone, and every wasted minute gives them more time to get organized and come after us.

  We slog along over rough terrain, finally breaking through to another sandy cove. Then we’re back in the trees, stumbling over rocks, struggling to keep the ocean in sight. Sobbing is the soundtrack to our journey. Amber is bringing Margaret and Penelope up to speed on what they are and mostly what they aren’t. Considering that story is old news to me by now, it’s amazing how much it hurts every time I hear it.

  Soon the trees thin out, and we’re approaching another cove. We know instantly there’s something different about this one. A cacophony of sound reaches us—laughter, excitement, screams. For an instant I’m afraid we’ve made a wrong turn and we’re back at the water park. No, but it’s almost as bad. It’s the resort’s main beach, and it’s crawling with people.

  I stop dead and everybody rear-ends me.

  Tori reads my mind. “They’re looking for us in the water park, not the beach. We can lose ourselves in the big crowd.”

  And it works. We thread our way through towels and umbrellas, dodging Frisbees and avoiding volleyball games. My eyes scan the sunbathers, searching for familiar faces and hoping not to find them. Every single step I’m expecting to be tackled from the rear by an unseen Purple People Eater. It’s a long walk that feels a lot longer, but at last the trees beckon from the other side of the beach.

  Behind me, I hear Hector breathe, “We made it.”

  That’s when I see him—a tall, lean Asian boy who used to live three doors down from me. He’s sitting on a beach blanket, surrounded by more shells than one ocean could possibly offer, and he’s got them all organized by size, by shape, by color, in endless rows and patterns.

  Aldwin Wo, the last of the Osiris clones.

  Malik notices me noticing. “Keep walking,” he intones.

  I stop in my tracks. “We can’t leave him here. Not when we have a chance to save him.”

  “I’m with Malik,” Hector puts in. “When he recognizes you guys, he could make a scene in front of the whole beach.”

  Even Tori seems unsure. “It could be risky, Eli.”

  Amber doesn’t say a word. She’s already marching across the sand toward Aldwin.

  It takes Aldwin a few seconds to recognize her. But when he does, he’s up on his feet, hugging her. Suddenly, all the color drains from him, so we know Amber’s telling him the hard truth.

  Our eyes are on them, which is why we don’t see who’s coming up behind us.

  “Hi, kids. Long time no see.” The voice is oily, full of false friendliness.

  We wheel. Sunburned bald head. Bony elbows and knees sticking out of a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Bad posture that reminds us of Hector’s—and for very good reason.

  It’s C. J. Rackoff, grinning into our shocked faces. “I believe the phrase you’re looking for is ‘The jig is up.’”

  Malik is the first of us to find his voice. “Some mastermind you are!” he snorts. “Count much? There are ten of us and only one of you!”

  That’s when we see two large figures striding across the sand toward us. It’s General Confusion and Screaming Mimi, their grim expressions carved from stone. You never get anger from Purple People Eaters, just cold efficiency.

  “You’re still outnumbered!” Hector sputters a lot less certainly.

  “Am I?” Rackoff asks mildly. “Poor me.”

  Even defiant Malik understands his meaning. Purples are trained commandos. And let’s face it, we’re just a bunch of kids. All we can do is watch helplessly as the two paramilitary men close in on us.

  And then the metal pole of a large beach umbrella swings out of nowhere, catching the two Purples full in the face. Both men drop to the beach, unconscious. Amber stands over them, jaw stuck out, an avenging angel in a bathing suit.

  Malik takes advantage of the distraction to ram his head full force into Rackoff’s jaw. The former embezzler goes down, dazed.

  “That’s for ruining Hector’s life!” Malik rasps.

  “I gave him his life,” Rackoff manages through swollen and bleeding lips. “He wouldn’t exist if not for me.”

  Malik’s reply is barely a snarl. “That’s another thing for you to pay for!”

  We’re not blending in with the vacationers anymore. Half the beach is staring at us in horrified amazement. There are hundreds of kids at Poseidon, but only the clones of criminal masterminds could take out three grown men in the space of a few seconds.

  Screaming Mimi stirs and sits up with a groan. Amber shoves him down again with the umbrella pole.

  Tori begins herding us up the beach. “Let’s get out of here!”

  One advantage of not being anonymous anymore—people get out of your way. Towels are pulled aside; Frisbee-ers and volleyball players leap clear as we exit the beach, accelerating to a run. There are ten of us now—Aldwin is bringing up the rear, keeping pace with Amber, who has dropped her weapon in the interest of speed. He’s looking at her with a mixture of respect and fear. And—yikes—behind them I see Rackoff and General Confusion staggering along in pursuit. The General is barking into his phone.

  “In a couple of minutes we’re going to have all of Osiris on our necks!” I call to Tori, my words coming out in gasps.

  “The marina!” she exclaims, pointing toward Poseidon’s palace—the central hotel and casino. Beyond it lies West Cay’s main harbor. But the entire water park stands in our way.

  For the first time, I can pick out the Serenity presence in the bustling resort. They’re the ones pushing purposefully through the vacationers. Faces bubble out of the throng, heading in our direction—Purple People Eaters and Osiris parents. I see Mrs. Amani, Mr. Cinta, Dr. Bruder. There she is again—Mrs. Laska, Mr. Pritel at her side.

  There are more—just about every adult we grew up with. But there’s no point in recognizing people in the crowd. The marina is too far away, and our enemies are too close. We’re not going to make it.

  “Over here!” Tori scrambles down the bank of the lazy river and begins yanking on the rubber side of a motorized maintenance raft.

  Seizing on that faint hope, we join her, and haul the light craft down the grassy slope and drag it into the water.

  “Get in!” Tori orders, yanking the cord to start the outboard motor.

  We attract a lot of attention on the lazy river—ten kids piling onto a raft built for five. At first, a traffic jam of inner tubes backs up behind us, people craning their necks to see what the holdup is. Our pursuers race down the bank, arms out to grab us.

  “Hit the gas!” Malik howls.

  The little engine engages and we shoot off down the lazy river, bumping tubes out of our way, apologizing as we overturn a few, dumping people into the water. Purples sprint along the side, trying to keep up with us, even as we slalom around the bobbing resort guests.

  “Faster, Tori! Faster!” I exhort.

  “It won’t go any faster!” she calls back. “We’ve got too much weight on it!”

  In spite of that, we’re putting some distance between us and our pursuers.

  We pass a wide-eyed Poseidon attendant. “Hey, you kids can’t—”

  We never get to hear what we can’t, but it’s a good guess it has something to do with dri
ving an overloaded maintenance raft at top speed on a lazy river full of people.

  We flash past him and round the corner, nearly sending Hector rolling over the inflatable side. At the last second, Malik reaches out, grabs a flailing ankle, and hauls his former best friend aboard.

  “Thanks!” Hector quavers.

  “I thought you were somebody else!” Malik growls back.

  I peer up the grassy bank and see the hotel towers looming directly above us. The next bend will leave us moving in the wrong direction as the lazy river curves back toward the water park. We’ll never get closer than we are right now.

  “Hit the brakes!” I bawl at Tori.

  Tori understands instantly. Without slowing down, she steers us onto the bank. The small craft hurtles up the slope and flips, dumping us all onto the grass. For an instant, everything goes dark as a lot of bodies and a rubber raft fall on top of me.

  With a roar of exertion, Malik hurls the boat away, and we leap to our feet just in time to see an army of Osiris pursuers bearing down on us from the direction of the water park.

  “The hotel!” I cry, racing for the heavy doors.

  On the other side of the building lies the marina and escape. We have a head start. But will it be enough time to hot-wire a boat and head out to sea?

  We blast through the doors into the plush lobby with its soaring ceiling and walls of fish tanks. I look around desperately. There’s the casino, the elevators, the restaurant—my gaze follows a long corridor with daylight at the end. That has to be it—the exit to the marina.

  “This way!”

  I’m in the lead, so I see him first, blocking my way, flanked by two Purple People Eaters. My heart begins to pound hard against the inside of my rib cage. An arctic chill comes over me.

  He’s wearing a sport jacket and no tie, his only concession to the casual resort surroundings. Yet there’s nothing casual about the fury in his expression.

  Felix Frieden—Hammerstrom.

  My father.

  We keep running. I don’t know if we can take them, but we have to try. Any chance to make a life for ourselves has come down to this time and this place. To lose now is to lose everything.