“Please take care of the situation, Miss Moon,” Angstrom hissed through stifled frustration, averting his gaze and dropping hooded lids over eyes that had seen enough.
His rage was palpable; it exuded from the very core of his being. Amelia Moon longed to exorcise the pain and deliver him from his demons. “It will be my pleasure, sir,” she said, and with no thought for her own safety, she stepped into the doorway and placed her hands on her hips. It was an act of defiance; she wanted him to know she would always be the target that drew the firing away from him.
“Doctor Leitz,” her voice blasted through the room like an arctic wind. He turned, tentatively raising the gun. “You are a fool and an imbecile,” she said marching forward into the jungle of sunflowers.
He narrowed his electric blue eyes, and memory tugged him back to childhood. “Mother, is that you?” he asked uncertainly, in an adolescent tone tinged with Spanish accents.
“You must stop this nonsense immediately,” she said as she moved toward him, her high heels tapping the floor like a Flamenco dancer.
“But we’re having so much fun,” he whimpered pathetically.
“Fun is for idiots,” she said, closing the gap between them rapidly.
Deep inside him, Aaron Leitz heard the control worm protesting, “Fun is everything,” he giggled inanely. “Without fun there’s nothing,”
Miss Moon could see he was deeply conflicted as she stopped in front of him and stared straight down the barrel of the gun. “If you’re going to use that thing, I suggest you use it now. Otherwise, please point it somewhere else.”
Leitz returned her gaze, but she was too powerful. He lowered his eyes and with a pout, dropped the gun to his side.
“Coward,” she said as her whole body and demeanor transformed. She spun around on her toe emitting a piercing scream. She raised her leg and her foot shot out like a spring and connected solidly with his chin. The gun clattered to the floor as Miss Moon quickly regained her poise. The whole move was so swift, it was as if it hadn’t happened, and it was a moment before Doctor Leitz knew he’d been hit. His eyes glazed over, and his head wobbled back and forth like a toy in the rear window of a car before he dropped to the floor with a mighty thump.
Doctor Angstrom wheeled himself through the plethora of sunflowers toward Miss Moon. He hated the smug way the flowers leaned over and appeared to smile down upon his misfortune. It was a thoughtless act he would pay them back for someday by eradicating them from the face of the earth. He leaned over and peered down at Leitz, who looked like he was sleeping sweetly.
“Do you think he succumbed to the ravages of the control worm?” Miss Moon asked.
Doctor Angstrom gazed up at her through snake-like eyes and appeared to ponder the question. Just how far should he go with his answer? Just enough to admit a tiny amount of culpability, he thought. “Unfortunately no, well—not alone anyway. I fear the child had more to do with this than anything else.”
She looked around the room; Doctor Angstrom’s opinion made sense. Whatever she thought about Doctor Leitz, she found it hard to believe he would destroy his own scientific equipment, and surely a tiny little South American worm wouldn’t have the capacity to create such a debacle.
“The boy has stolen my power,” Angstrom whined, “and I want it back.”
“It’s only a matter of time;” Miss Moon consoled him. “He’ll screw up; kids always do.”
They turned their attention back to Doctor Leitz. It was time to administer the antidote for the control worm, and bring him back into the realm of sanity.
***
John pulled into the filling station, parked beside one of the pumps, and switched off the engine. “Okay, who’s got money?” he asked, turning to face Kate while he thrust his hand deep into his pocket. “I have a couple of bucks.” He fished out two crumpled bills and threw them onto the seat in front of him.
“I don’t have any money,” Kate replied, opening her palms to emphasize the fact. “My purse is back at your house,” she sighed.
“How about you guys?” John asked, swiveling around to face Cal and Tex.
“Two dollars will buy enough gas to get us home, won’t it?” Cal asked. He was still dazed from the roller-coaster-like ride they had taken on the highway.
“I have fifty cents,” Tex volunteered, handing the coins over.
John scooped up the bills and looked at the money. They were driving a limousine; it was going to be embarrassing to ask for two and a half bucks worth of gas.
The attendant knocked on the smoked glass as John reluctantly turned around to face the front. Right now he wished he were anyone but himself as he powered down the window. If only I was a movie star or celebrity, he thought, it might just buy me enough time to get out of this mess.
He smiled his most endearing smile as the attendant’s face appeared in the window frame, but far from being put on the spot, John found he was the center of attention.
“Wow!” exclaimed the stunned attendant. “It’s not often we get a film star in this neck of the woods.” He grinned and shook his head in disbelief. “You want me to fill ‘er up?”
“Sure,” John said rather uncertainly. The attendant walked off whistling a tune, and John watched him in the side mirror as he thrust the nozzle into the tank and began pumping the gas. A moment later a bell rang, and the attendant moved out of sight, presumably to take care of another customer. Turning his attention back to the car, he was surprised to hear his friends goofing on him.
“Film star!” exclaimed Tex sarcastically. “The guy must be blind.”
“Yeah, or completely out of his tree,” Cal agreed laughing.
Confused by the ragging, John turned to Kate. “Aaahhhh, John! You’ve changed,” she screamed, and the laughter from the back seat stopped dead.
“Dude, that is totally awesome,” Cal said, as he leapt forward and examined John’s new face, “you look just like him.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Tex said as he joined Cal. “Everything’s just a little bit off; he looks weird.”
John regarded each of them as if they had gone berserk.
“If you don’t believe us, take a look for yourself,” Kate declared.
John tilted down the rearview mirror; it was true, the face peering back at him was not his own. But he wasn’t sad, or annoyed, or frustrated by it. Quite the opposite, he was overjoyed. For all of his short life he had just been plain old John Smith and nothing had distinguished him in any way, but this new face made him feel like he had hit the gene pool lottery. This was a face worth a billion bucks.
It had everything: piercing blue-grey eyes, high cheekbones, a mouth that curved naturally into a killer smile, the merest hint of a cleft in the chin, and sun-streaked hair that looked good mussed up. He was hypnotized; he found it hard to tear himself away.
“Oh no, look at him; he’s fallen in love with himself,” Cal teased and then self-consciously touched his own hair thoughtfully.
“Yeah, that’s the problem with good-looking guys,” Kate lamented, “there’s too much competition for the mirror.”
“It’s disgusting,” Tex grimaced, “make him stop.”
But this was one ragging John took in his stride. All his life he had wanted to look handsome like this, and he knew the face staring back at him from the mirror truly was fleeting. He would enjoy it while he could.
The attendant unhooked the nozzle, screwed the cap back onto the gas tank, and a moment later reappeared back in the window. John found it hard to tear himself away from his reflection; he knew it would be the last time he would see it, and it bummed him out.
“Well, it’s true what they say about you guys, huh,” said the attendant, “just can’t stop looking at yourselves every chance you get. Well, I can’t say I blame you, I’d do the same thing if I were you.”
“We can’t pay for the gas,” John said as he turned and faced him.
“Oh, I know,” the attendant said grinning stupidly “you guy
s never carry any cash, right?” Again John was confused. Did this kind of thing happen to movie stars all the time? People just gave them stuff for free!
“Your bodyguards over there already told me to add your total to their bill,” he said, stepping back from the car. “You have a good evening now, and drop by again.”
“Bodyguards!” The four kids spun their heads around in alarm, and sure enough, right there on the other side of the gas pumps was a second limousine.
“They’re never going to stop,” said Kate hysterically. “They’re going to hound us forever.”
“Don’t panic,” John shouted.
“Oh yeah,” Kate spat as she turned to him. “Well, it looks like your movie star already ran away.”
John glanced in the mirror. It was true; the freckled face he had always known stared back at him, and his hazel eyes looked scared.
“I’ve had enough of this,” Tex scowled, “I’m gonna get the creeps myself.” He reached out to grab the door handle, but Cal was quicker. He leapt at him and locked his powerful arms around Tex’ chest and neck and wrestled him to the floor.
“Have you gone completely mad?” John demanded. “That’s exactly what they want. They want to split us up.”
“Get off me, you overgrown octopus,” Tex yelled in frustration. “I’m not scared of them, and I’m not scared of you!”
“Be careful not to hurt him,” Kate said, leaning over the seat and watching their struggle with fascination. She’d heard them argue loudly, but she had never seen them actually fight. It was kind of exciting.
Tex was raining blow after blow into the side of Cal’s head, but Cal was undeterred; the only thing on his mind was saving his friend from making a stupid move. “Stay out of this, sister, it’s not your fight,” Cal said. “Now let’s get out of here, John, before I have to break this idiot’s neck.”
“Oh, yeah, you and whose army?” Tex fumed, as he caught Cal with a couple of really nasty clips.
John gunned the engine and screamed out of the filling station.
***
Steve thought that paying for the kid’s gas was a stroke of genius, and he wished he had thought of it. He imagined it would throw the kids into paroxysms of panic, and maybe even render them immobile. After all, they must have imagined they’d escaped, and he could only conjecture how demoralizing it would be to realize that Hunter was right on their tail.
Thus it was a total and complete surprise to him when their limousine screeched out of the gas station, slipped into the traffic, and was gone. His reaction was immediate; he fired up the engine and took off after them with a squeal of rubber that would have made Dirty Harry proud. There was only one problem: he had forgotten the fuel tank was being filled with gas.
Hunter was thrown back in his seat with a force that knocked him senseless. “Groink,” he shouted, which Steve interpreted to mean good luck, and it gave him the extra, added resolve to continue undaunted in his pursuit.
The nozzle on the fuel line was secured by teeth that snapped tightly over a collar inside the fuel tank. When Steve took off, the teeth gripped even tighter, and the tension on the fuel line caused the whole apparatus to fuse solidly as if the car and the nozzle were welded together.
The attendant ran at the car, waving his arms furiously, urging it to stop, but to no avail. Steve blew right by him, stretching the hose to the breaking point. The hose didn’t break though; instead it pulled the gas pump along with it. The pump leapt off its concrete mooring like a hippo jumping into a waterhole, snapping the pipe that connected it to an underground tank, which had been newly filled with petroleum that morning. When the pump was dragged away, a spout of gasoline shot forth from below, and squirted fifteen feet into the air.
To add insult to injury, the metal casing of the gas pump was now being dragged along behind the car by the hose, like a doll with one arm. It was spraying showers of sparks that bombarded the waves of gasoline rippling along behind it. The resulting explosion blew the gas pump up into the air, which miraculously unhooked the hose from the gas tank. As the metal casing catapulted higher, secondary explosions erupting from the gasoline contained in the pipes inside it twisted the poor gasoline pump into the shape of a pretzel.
Fireballs of gas and smoke leapt high in the air as Steve slipped out of the gas station and into the traffic, blissfully unaware of the destruction he had left in his wake. Dodging the remnants of the fuel pump as it crashed to earth, the attendant, singed and smoking from the fire, ran out angrily onto the sidewalk and began jumping up and down, literally hopping mad.
***
As John sped out of the filling station, Cal released Tex. He had saved him from an impetuous hotheaded rage that would have just gotten them all into trouble, but Tex didn’t see it that way.
“You should’ve let me go after them,” Tex complained, “I could have taken them down.”
“Maybe you should thank him instead of whining like a baby,” Kate said. “He spared you the indignity of making a fool of yourself.”
“No, I’ve seen him beating up doors, walls, and goal posts, and I just had to hold him back, ‘cause those two guys with guns would never have stood a chance,” said Cal sarcastically.
“What’s that behind us?” John shouted, and the three of them glanced up as a huge ball of flame illuminated the night sky.
Cal and Tex scrambled onto the back seat and peered out of the rear window, as Kate clambered over the top of her seat and joined them.
“The gas station just exploded,” Tex said dryly.
“I’ll bet you’re glad I stopped you now,” Cal gloated.
Tex threw him a glance that could have withered a flower. “Forgive me, oh flatulent one, whose wind shakes the trees.”
“That’s better,” Cal gloated.
“Uh, oh!” Kate blurted out as the second limo appeared out of the roaring inferno with flames licking all around it.
John saw them coming in the side mirror, and feeling he was far more experienced as a driver—after all, he’d had at least an hours’ experience—he pushed his foot to the floor and grimaced at the road ahead. He switched lanes to dodge around and through the traffic, as horns blared and lights flashed, but try as he might, he could do nothing to shake them off. The second limo clung to his tail like a bad case of fleas on a dog.
***
Miss Moon pulled back Doctor Leitz’ eyelid and peered at his electric-blue pupil. Having administered the antidote for the control worm, she now wondered if he was showing any sign of regaining consciousness. Kurt Angstrom stared confidently down at his half-brother from his wheelchair. He had never been beaten in his life, although he had been close to defeat on many occasions; he was one of those few who always pulled something out of the bag at the very last moment; or to put it correctly, fate always gave in at the last moment and delivered him the coup de grâce. Perhaps it was because he’d had his quota of bad luck all in one go; but who knew?
He sneered at the sunflowers; it was so over for them, and as far as he knew, the scientific equipment that once held the promise of help was useless. He shook his head in frustration; perhaps the time had come to rid himself of his half-brother once and for all. Besides, he’d had his eye on a very promising English physicist who could do the job just as well. He made a mental note to have Hunter kidnap him and bring him over to the States.
Doctor Leitz groaned, “What happened to me?” He rolled over groggily and stared up at Kurt Angstrom.
“You tried to double-cross me, brother,” Angstrom said menacingly.
Leitz blinked his eyes, trying to focus. “Tried to what? No! It was that horrible child; he’s evil.” He gazed off to one side, trying to recall details of his recent delirium. “And something else inside my mind…a tango-dancing, one-footed, spineless milquetoast from south of the border, who goes by the name of Martini!”
Doctor Angstrom and Miss Moon exchanged furtive glances. “You have been under much strain; you need to take some rest
. I think a long vacation is in order,” Angstrom strongly suggested.
“Vacation!” Leitz yelled, sitting bolt upright, “I don’t have time for a vacation, I am poised upon the greatest scientific discovery of the twenty-first century! I must get back to work.”
“Unfortunately, that’s impossible,” said Miss Moon ironically. “You have destroyed your laboratory.”
Although his head was woozy, Leitz had a vague recollection of disco balls and sunflowers. He had thought it was a dream, but now, as the scales fell from his eyes, he realized it was all true. He had been forced out of his own mind, and the result of his dementia had been devastating.
He touched his chin gingerly, and a stabbing pain shot to his brain. He looked searchingly at Miss Moon, and then at Kurt Angstrom. He had a shrewd idea they were at the bottom of his descent into lunacy, but he also knew that discretion was called for. He would settle his score with them when the time was right, but for now he had to wriggle his way back into their good graces.
At the present moment his anger was focused solely on one individual; the person who had ruined his experiment, and his plan to steal all the glory for himself. John Smith, he was the one who was truly responsible for this maelstrom of insanity.
It’s strange how the wheels of scientific discovery turn; they are powered by need, need produces a problem, and then the agile mind of the dedicated scientist applies itself to the discovery of a solution. But all of the endless hours, days and weeks of working out mathematical formulas, the months of building equipment, and the years of experimentation are really only creating the territory, then building highways, roads, and side roads through it.
The Subatomic Kid Page 18