by Tina Chan
“So they’re basically like contact lens cameras?” Kristi clarified.
“Right on. If you wear them while checking out New Genes Lab, you can record a lot of visual information you would normally forget. They can make a huge difference between a successful break-in and a failure.” Jane pressed a case into Troop and Kristi’s hand each.
“Thanks,” they replied in unison.
“That’s what I’m here for,” she said. “To make sure everything goes smoothly.”
Troop went to the bathroom with Kristi to put in the contact lens. The wiring and cameras in the lens were so microscopic Kristi wouldn’t have noticed them at all if she hadn’t known they were there.
She blinked her watering eyes a few times. She had just inserted a contact-cam into her right eye and it felt a bit awkward. Once Kristi got used to the feeling of having a contact on her right eye, she attempted to put in her left one.
“Darn it,” Kristi said after three fruitless tries.
“Here, let me try. I already got both of my lenses on.” Troop carefully took the contact lens she was having trouble with from the tip of her fingertip.
“Don’t blink,” he said. As he said the word, he delicately placed the contact onto her left eye with lightning quick speed.
“Hey!” Kristi said in surprise.
She blinked as soon as the contact-cam was securely in her eye to mitigate the discomfort.
“You’re welcome,” Troop said.
“You startled me. But thanks.”
“Should we bring anything with us aside from our slates?”
“I don’t think so. The less we have to carry the better.”
Kristi exited the bathroom and told Chelsa and Finn, “We’re leaving now. See you later.”
They nodded to show they heard.
New Genes Lab was an imposing building located near the edge of the city. A meticulously mowed lawn surrounded the entire perimeter of the building, preventing any chance of being able to sneak inside the lab without being taped by the surveillance cameras that dotted around the property.
Troop and Kristi strolled along the sidewalk passing in front of New Genes Lab, not daring to move any closer to the building for fear of attracting the wrong type of attention.
“Did you get a good look at the cameras?” Kristi asked Troop under her breath. “Perhaps the Filches can figure out the best way to evade the them if they know the cameras’ model.”
Troop followed her words and focused his gaze on the closest camera to them, which was only fifty feet away. They circled the property, taking note of the number of windows, stairs, entrances and anything else of interest.
New Genes Lab was a five-story, square-shaped building constructed of steel and black tinted windows. Overall, it looked very much like a black cube crouching in the middle of a vividly green patch of green surrounded by a seven-foot high chain linked fence. Even just thinking about how they were going to enter the lab made Kristi’s head hurt.
“Maybe there’s another way to solve the case without trespassing into the lab,” she said.
“If there’s another way to solve the case, we obviously aren’t aware of it.” Troop shaded his eyes from the glare reflecting off the glossy building. “So far, breaking and entering is the best lead we have to follow. If Stevey used to work at this lab and something traumatic involving the Accidents happened here causing him to go crazy, our best starting point would be here.”
“Yeah, but if this place made Stevey go whacko, what do you think it will do to us?”
“It can’t be that bad,” Troop said, sounding like he was both trying to reassure himself and Kristi at the same time.
“Is it just me, or has that red solar-car been following us for the past few minutes?” She threw a glance to her right. Yep, the solar-car was still there, with its blacked-out windows all rolled up.
Troop eyeballed the car. “I think so. I’m going to take that as a sign to go.”
They finished circling the lab and walked back onto the main road.
“Do you want to grab some dinner?” Troop asked.
“Do we have enough time?”
“Yeah. There’s still over an hour before curfew.”
“Okay then. That sandwich shop seems like a nice place.” Kristi pointed to Solomon’s Sandwich and sent Chelsa a quick instafication notifying her that they would be back in about an hour.
A little bell tinkled, announcing their arrival to the waitress who was chatting with her friend. She stood up and came to them.
“How many?”
“Two,” Troop said.
“This way.”
The waitress led them to a booth and flicked on the smart-glass imbedded into the table, displaying the menu.
“The shop will be closing in about forty-five minutes, alright?”
“We’ll be quick,” Kristi promised, then slid into the booth across from Troop.
The waitress wandered off to finish her conversation, leaving them to decide what they wanted to eat.
An old couple sat a few tables away from Troop and Kristi. Across from the couple was a single, middle-aged man who seemed pretty engrossed with his sandwich and soup; the couple was talking to each other animatedly, so Troop and Kristi basically had the whole restaurant to themselves.
The waitress came back to them a few minutes later once her friend left. “Have you decided what you would like?”
Kristi motioned for Troop to order first.
“Can I have the hummus sandwich with a side of tomato soup?”
The waitress noted his order and turned to Kristi. She still hadn’t made up her mind about what to order, so she said, “I’ll have the same.”
“Be back in a few minutes.” The waitress turned off the smart-glass and marched into the kitchen.
“Any ideas on how to enter the building?” Kristi asked, wording her question carefully so not to give away what they were planning on doing in case any snooping ears were around.
Troop’s face took on a concentrated look. He answered slowly, as if measuring each word out carefully, “Sometimes the best way to hide is in plain sight. Covers. We could use covers.”
“That’s definitely an idea we can work off,” Kristi said. “So my next question is: when and how will we get our covers?”
“Send an instafication to Hanson. He said he has plenty of connections and chances are he will be able to get us some covers. Also—”
“Here are your sandwiches and soup,” the waitress interrupted Troop’s sentence.
Kristi bit back a word of annoyance.
The waitress set down the food and went to attend the couple that had finished their meal. The couple, well into their sixties or even seventies, floated out the sandwich shop with a light spring in their steps; arthritis and osteoporosis were symptoms of the past.
Troop picked up where he left off, “Also, our host may be able to help us with the security problems. The cameras may be problematic.”
“I’ll send a message to Chelsa asking if she knows anyone who can help solve our security problems.” Kristi unlocked her electro-slate with her fingerprint while Troop munched on his sandwich. After selecting Chelsa’s contact, she wrote her a quick note:
Hey Chelsa,
Can you ask Jane and Nick if they can penetrate New Gene Lab’s security system with their hacking skills?
Chelsa responded within a few minutes:
They said probably yes, provided you can provide them with the necessary information. Exactly what type of hacking do they need to do?
Kristi replied:
I know there are definitely cameras and ID scanners.
Chelsa answered:
Jane wants you send her the footage you got with the contact-cams. If you use your electro-slate and “search for nearby devices” with it, the contact-cam will appear on the list of connected devices to the slate. To access the film from the camera, type in the password 6h8*_aH. Then send me the video and I’ll show it to Jan
e and Nick.
Kristi did as Chelsa instructed. After pulling up the files from the contact-cam onto her electro-slate, she selected the correct time frame of the clips and sent them to Chelsa. She glanced up from her slate in time to see the middle-aged man leave the restaurant.
The waitress noticed him leaving without paying for his meal and called out, “Sir! You have to pay for your dinner before you leave.”
The man ignored her and strode outside without giving a glance back. The waitress let out a huff and started after the unpaid customer.
“Do you think we should help the waitress?” Kristi asked.
“I don’t know. My conscience is telling me to go help her, but we should avoid attracting attention at all cost.”
The chef from the kitchen came out to the dining area and said, “We’ll be closing up soon.” He looked around the room, searching for someone. “Where did Tallia go?”
Kristi presumed that Tallia was the waitress. “She went to chase down a customer who left without paying.”
The chef let out a snort of disgust. “What has society come to these—”
Ka-BOOM!
Something exploded in the restaurant.
Kristi instinctively covered her head and curled up into the fetal position. Debris rained down around her and the sound of the explosion rang in her ear. Once the ringing had stopped vibrating her eardrums, she peeked at her surrounding through her fingers. Dust swirled in the air, raised by the ceiling collapsing inwards.
She was trapped beneath the booth. Part of the wall separating the kitchen from the dining area had collapsed on top of the table where Troop and she had been sitting at.
“Troop! Can you hear me?” Kristi yelled.
She broke off, coughing violently. The dust coated her lungs like a swarm of fire ants.
As the dust grew thicker, Kristi realized she wasn’t breathing in dust; she was breathing in smoke. The building was on fire.
“Kristi!” She heard Troop call her name. “I can’t find you! Are you still at the table we were sitting at?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “I couldn’t get out of the booth fast enough before the wall crumpled over it.”
The air around her grew thicker and hotter. Desperately, she searched for some passage out of her confinements. There was a tiny gap near the ground; at most, it was only a foot wide.
Kristi pressed the back of her hands against the wall; it was hot, signaling the fire was very close by.
“Can you get out of the restaurant?” Kristi asked Troop, who was on the other side of the wall.
“I think so.” His voice sounded dry and croaky from the smoke. “There’s a path to the door, but the fire’s going to burn through the path soon.”
“Get out of the building now. And call the fire crew if they haven’t already been called.”
“Are you able to get out?” Troop asked.
Kristi’s eyes watered from the smoke; her nose burned from the acrid smell of things on fire. Sweat dripped down her back and glistened on her forehead; the temperature rose intensely. She went into panic mode. I’m going to die! I don’t want to be burned to death. Or maybe I’ll suffocate in this blanket of smoke. I don’t want to die—I’m only sixteen.
“Kristi, are you all right?” Troop’s voice brought her back to reality.
“Yeah.” The tone of her voice said otherwise.
Something thumped on the wall barricading her from the rest of the restaurant. The walls shook a bit and plaster pieces sprinkled down.
“Troop, get yourself out of here,” Kristi said in her most authoritative voice. “You’re not much good dead.”
She wiped a bead of sweat off her brows and sucked in some air through pursed lips, trying not to inhale too much smoke. Then she kicked at the gap near the floor, hoping to widen it somehow.
“Kristi, try to break down the wall from the inside and I’ll work on it from the outside,” Troop said.
“I thought I told you to get out!”
“Shut up and listen to me. If we don’t work together, neither of us will get out alive. Do you see any weak spots in the wall?”
“There’s a small opening near the ground and—” A coughing fit overcame her.
“Alright,” Troop said.
Both of them worked simultaneously at chipping away the plaster wall around Kristi’s only escape route. She kicked, pounded and clawed at the wall. No matter how fast or hard they tore at the wall, it seemed like the gap was only widening a few millimeters at a time.
Her oxygen deprived muscles screamed at her to stop working and just give up. Her eyes and nose felt like they were on fire; her vision started to blur, strength beginning to wane.
“Hang in there.” Troop sounded tired and spent.
A minute later, the gap had widened to about a foot and a half. Kristi could see Troop’s hands working, furiously hacking away at the wall.
“I think I can fit through,” Kristi croaked, her throat parched.
Flames licked at the backside of Troop and Kristi could see sweat pouring down his neck. She thrust her upper body through the space and squirmed her way through. The hardwood floor was covered with hot ashes and cinder, singeing her cheeks as she slid out from beneath the table.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Come on, let’s run for the back door.”
Kristi followed Troop through the flaming restaurant, dancing over smoldering pieces of furniture and dodging ceiling chunks that were falling from above. The front of the restaurant was completely engulfed in flames. The back of the restaurant was rapidly being eaten away by the never-satisfied inferno.
The glass door leading to the outside world never looked so significant. Kristi put all her focus on getting to the exit she didn’t notice when a ceiling beam dropped down with a THUD! She leapt backwards in surprise. Had she taken one more step forward, she would’ve been dead and burnt crispy.
With a five-foot high wall of flames cutting her off from freedom, Kristi was out of ideas on what to do. Behind her was an impenetrable blockade of fire. Yellow and black spots danced in the corner of Kristi’s vision. She felt her body start to shut itself down. The smoke, the heat, the stress and the lack of clean air were taking its toll.
chapter thirty-five
[ Troop ]
Kristi looked like a dead person.
But she’s not dead, Troop ferociously thought to himself.
“Sorry, Kristi,” he said, and then gave her a hard slap to the face.
Her eyelids flew open.
“Ow! What the hell?” she grated.
“Don’t lose consciousness on me.” His voice was equally gravelly. “Can you stand?”
He offered her a hand up, which she accepted. They stumbled out of the sandwich shop and traveled a few blocks before Kristi’s legs buckled in on her. She leaned against a wall to regain her strength.
Troop looked back at the sandwich shop, where the conflagration still burned. “Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”
“It’s not like I’m in shape to go anywhere.”
Troop left her, feeling apprehensive at leaving her alone; but they needed water. Where can I get some water? All of the shops are closed and it’s not like I can walk up to someone’s house and ask for a bottle of water.
He wandered around, keeping track of all the turns he made; getting lost in the city was the last thing he wanted to happen right now. The thought of Kristi parched and lying in the streets spurred him into a faster pace.
A wishing fountain appeared ahead. Excited at the prospect of getting a drink, he broke into a jog. The water shimmered in the granite basin, clear as crystal. He reached his hands into the fountain to splash some water onto his face…and felt nothing. What’s going on?
He leaned down to inspect the water and his spirits sunk. It was holographic water. Troop spun on his heels and continued his search for water.
Please let me find water soon, he thought. As if some water god had heard his prayers,
a parked solar-truck with the words “Wayland Water” printed on the side appeared ahead. Finally a stroke of luck.
He scrambled over to the truck. The padlock on the truck was rusty and weak; with some effort, Troop was able to snap it off, brown flakes of rust shedding off the lock. Glancing around to make sure no one was in the proximity, he lifted up the back of the truck, wincing at the screeching sound it made.
“Jackpot,” he whispered to himself.
Crates upon crates of water bottles sat upon each other inside the truck; ripe fruits ready for picking. Troop snatched two water bottles from the closest box and pulled down the back door of the truck. Then he leapt down from the edge and sprinted back to Kristi, clutching the two bottles like they were bottles of liquid gold.
Kristi looked better when he got back to her.
“Anybody see you?” Troop asked.
She shook her head. He ripped off part of his shirt and wetted it, then pressed the wet rag over her forehead and she moaned in appreciation. Kristi’s hands trembled sponging herself with the cool, soothing piece of cloth.
“Here, take a sip,” Troop said. He handed her a water bottle.
Most of the water ended up dribbling down her shirt rather than in her mouth, but nevertheless, she let out a groan as the water revived much of her. Troop downed his own bottle in a few swallows.
Then he took a few seconds to assess their state of being. Kristi’s eyes were bloodshot and her hair plastered against her neck from perspiration. He himself was feeling sore and weak; Troop was pretty sure he was as equally as disheveled as Kristi.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like my skin got turned into cracked leather.”
“We have to return to the Filches as fast as possible,” he said. “It’s fifteen minutes past curfew and we’re still a ten minute walk away from their apartment.”