by Matt Solomon
While he waited for a response, he searched down a row of cars. The concession stand guys were cooking up a storm, and the smell of grilled brats made his mouth water.
ADELE: by the concession stand looking right at u
Charlie laughed. He didn’t see how he could have missed her, since she was only about twenty feet away, dressed up in a striped cardigan sweater with a cozy-looking checkered blanket slung over her shoulder. Her hot chocolate whispered curls of steam into the cool night air. It was the first time he had ever seen her wearing lipstick.
“Hey, you,” said Adele.
“Hey,” he said back. He wasn’t sure what to say next. She wasn’t saying anything, either. He stuck his hands in his pockets. She shifted her weight and took a sip of her hot cocoa. Finally he spotted a lone picnic table near the tree line. “Want to sit over there?” The two of them hopped up on the top of the table rather than on one of the benches.
“Most of the time, video game movies are stupid, but maybe this one will be different,” declared Adele, her fingers crossed.
“Here’s hoping.” He glanced over his shoulder at the tree line. Still no Bruce. Charlie relaxed. So far, so good.
“You try that move off the Total Turbo message board yet?”
“I did. It’s tough to nail.”
“You’ll get it,” said Adele with a shiver. “Aren’t you freezing?”
Charlie was cold, but he played it off. “Nah, not really.”
She spread the blanket across their laps anyway. It helped. “So, who were you hanging out with today?”
“He’s sort of like an exchange student.”
Charlie was interrupted by people shouting and applauding and honking their horns as the opening credits splashed Total Turbo: The Movie on the screen. Adele hollered and tugged Charlie’s arm. The car she always drove in the game, a tricked-out Tesla Roadster, scraped an iron guard rail and sent a colorful burst of sparks flying into the air.
The movie started. Charlie wondered if he was on a date or not. He considered putting his arm around Adele, but where did it go? Over her shoulder? Around her waist? But he knew Bruce could be watching them. Even though the giant was probably paying attention to the movie, Charlie felt weird about it.
Adele shifted her weight to realign the blanket, and her warm hand brushed against Charlie’s. He wondered if he should hold it. His was only inches away. Just as he was screwing up the courage to reach over, Adele grabbed Charlie’s hand first. Their fingers intertwined.
He completely lost track of the movie’s plot after that. There were high-speed chases, good guys who turned out to be bad guys, a beautiful female mechanic, but he was too distracted by holding hands to catch all the details.
Too soon, the credits rolled and people honked their horns in appreciation. Charlie checked the tree line again and like before, there was no sign of Bruce. All he could see was sausage smoke wafting above the picnic tables and a stringy-haired cook getting ready for the intermission rush, slamming brats and dogs on the fire. Charlie’s stomach growled so loud that Adele heard it.
“Wow, somebody hungry?”
Charlie was embarrassed. “Not me,” he said, even though he was starving.
“Well, I am,” she declared, letting go of Charlie’s hand and throwing off the blanket. “All I can smell is that grill. You want a brat?”
“Wait!” Charlie reached into his pocket.
“Whatever.” Adele smiled, holding up a ten.
“Maybe one.”
Adele split for the concession line, leaving Charlie alone. His pocket buzzed and he checked his phone.
MOM: Where are you?
Charlie closed his eyes. He couldn’t wait until he was older and his mom would stop checking his every move.
Drive-in.
MOM: How in the world did u get there?
Charlie hesitated before typing. I told you, I’m with Adele.
MOM: It’s late. I’m sending DJ out 2 pick u 2 up.
2nd movie hasn’t even started!
MOM: No arguments. DJ will b there in 20 min.
And that, Charlie knew, was that. When Adele got back, he’d confess that his mom was making him leave. Bruce needed to get back to the warehouse anyway. If they beat it back there, Charlie could get home before DJ even left. He snuck over to the tree line.
“Hey, big guy,” Charlie whispered. “We got to split soon.”
No response.
“Bruce?”
Charlie went into the trees to investigate. But the giant was gone.
“Bruce!” Charlie called, figuring no one could hear him over the car stereos blasting between movies. “Bruce! Where are you? This isn’t funny!”
Charlie spun, expecting Bruce to poke him from behind like he’d done in the warehouse. But he wasn’t there. A line of perspiration formed on the back of Charlie’s neck and went cold in the night air. He ran along the tree line, searching for any sign of the giant. “Bruce!” he yelled, louder now against the sound of cars rushing by on Highway 14.
His phone buzzed again and just as he pulled it from his pocket, it flew from his hand. A hard blow to the chin sent white-hot pain pulsing through his jaw. He found himself on the grass looking up at the hulking outline of Jamie Fitzgibbons, wearing a too-tight Total Turbo T-shirt.
Fitz stomped on Charlie’s phone and snuffed out its glow, leaving them alone in the dark shadows of the tree line. “What are you doing out at Accelerton?” he asked in a scary-calm voice.
Charlie had no idea what Fitz was talking about. “Acceler-what?”
“My dad’s lab! Don’t lie to me!” Fitz kicked Charlie hard in the ribs. “What are you, his little experiment?”
“I … I…” Charlie coughed. “I don’t know … what you’re talking about.”
“This isn’t going to stop”—Fitz gave Charlie another boot to the ribs—“until I get some answers!”
“Stop it!”
Fitz spun as Adele threw herself at him, punching the bigger kid in the chest as hard as she could. “You’re hurting him!”
Fitz grabbed Adele by the wrists and threw her hard to the ground. “You sit there,” he snarled, “and watch Lawson get his.”
Charlie struggled to his knees. “Leave her alone.”
“Make me,” said Fitz.
Adele backed away from Fitz on her elbows, mouth wide open. Terrified, she raised a trembling hand and pointed up at the bully.
“What’s the matter? You scared?” sneered Fitz, right before giant fingers wrapped around his muscular body and lifted him twenty feet in the air.
Bruce squeezed Fitz, who let out a frightened yelp. The angry giant brought the thrashing boy up to eye level and let loose with a menacing snarl. His enormous yellow teeth were full of hot dog meat. Charlie saw something in Fitz’s face that he never thought he’d see: fear.
“Whoever stole all these brats is in really big trouble,” someone yelled from the concession building. “I’m calling the cops!”
“Bruce, no!” shouted Charlie, staggering to his feet even though his legs felt like jelly. “People are coming! We got to get you out of here!”
“Let go of me!” howled Fitz.
“Bruce, it’s for your own good! Put him down, and let’s go.”
Bruce didn’t listen, disappearing into the trees with Fitz still in hand. The giant was going to teach the bully a lesson. Charlie gave chase through the dark with Adele close on his heels. They followed the sound of snapping tree branches, circling the drive-in lot and catching up with Bruce right behind the Starlite 14 marquee. The giant hoisted Fitz high in the air, the sign shielding them from view. If Bruce wanted to kill him, this was the perfect spot.
“You have to put him down,” Charlie yelled. “He’s not worth it!”
The muscles in Bruce’s brow tensed. The giant looked down at Adele, then at Charlie. Then finally, he grimaced at Fitz. “Bad,” Bruce scolded.
He spun Fitz around and tugged the boxer shorts that stuck out the back of Fit
z’s low-hanging cargo pants. “Yowwwww!” howled Fitz.
The smirking giant lifted the boy over the sign and hung the waistband of his shorts on the starburst that doubled as the letter t in Starlite. “Get me down!” Fitz screamed in a high-pitched whine.
Bruce poked his head around the edge of the sign and laughed, long and low. Fitz extended his middle finger. “This isn’t over,” he said, defiant despite his unfortunate position. “And you reek.”
Spotlights below the sign lit Fitz for the world to see, and cars passing on Highway 14 honked at the sight of the humiliated boy sprawling in the air, swinging by his underwear. Red flashing lights spun into the drive. Bruce flinched and stumbled back at the sound of the squad car’s wailing siren. He held his hands over his ears and moaned in pain as the piercing cry pounded away at his sensitive eardrums.
A beat-up pickup truck squelched its headlights and pulled through the grass behind the Starlite 14 sign. Charlie pulled Adele into the shadows behind the sign post—they were really in trouble now. At least the sight of Fitz hanging on the sign had everyone’s attention. No one saw Hank hobble out into the darkness. “You!” he whispered up at Bruce. “I’ve been driving all over town looking for you! If I didn’t see that kid hanging up on the sign, I would never have found you! You’re going to miss your ride. You know where to go, head to the pickup point. Right now!”
“But—” the giant protested.
“Now!” thundered Hank.
The giant made a face, but he turned and dashed unnoticed across the pasture and back toward the woods. Hank hobbled back into his truck and took off for town.
When the old man’s truck was gone, Charlie shouted after the giant. “Bruce!” No response. Helpless, he turned back to see DJ’s big Hummer pulling into the drive-in lot.
He turned to Adele and gestured helplessly. How could he begin to explain? “I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”
She grabbed his arm. “Are you telling me he’s the exchange student?”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Will you tell me what’s going on?”
“When I can.”
She leaned into him and kissed him softly on the lips. Charlie stood there in the dark with her for a second, paralyzed as the squad car pulled beneath the Starlite 14 sign. Then she shoved him off in the direction of the Hummer. “Go!”
17
Derisive laughter greeted Jamie Fitzgibbons as he hung from the Starlite 14 drive-in sign by his boxer shorts. It was an epic wedgie, but Jamie didn’t feel the pain caused by his bunched-up underwear; he was too focused on the fact that there was a freaking giant in Richland Center.
He remembered the simulation he’d seen on Barton’s screen, the one that grew into “Gen50.” Jamie had guessed that his dad was using Charlie Lawson as a guinea pig, but it was clearly his big stinky friend. That overgrown lab rat must have had at least fifty doses of his dad’s new growth drug. How else could he have gotten so huge? From the looks of Barton’s simulations, the stuff could make Jamie a giant. He’d be famous. The biggest star in the world—literally!
He watched Lawson climb into a black Hummer as swirling red lights from two squad cars spun around the crowd. Was he sneaking off to meet up with his big smelly buddy?
One of the cops silenced the piercing siren, which only made the kids’ laughter easier to hear. A balding officer stood at the base of the Starlite 14 sign and hollered up to Jamie. “You want to explain how you got up there?”
“I slipped,” he called down with a sneer. It wasn’t like the bald cop would believe what really happened.
“He was rearranging the letters,” someone shouted to the officer.
It was Adele Hawkins, the girl who had been hanging out with Lawson. Jamie realized she was covering for him and the giant, too!
“He was bragging about it all night. He was going to switch up the letters in Total Turbo to spell…” She took a second and focused on the marquee. “Brutal Toot!” That brought another round of laughter from the crowd. One of the other officers showed up with a ladder.
“All right, son,” said Bald Cop from the top of an aluminum ladder. “I’m helping you down.” He wrapped his arms around Jamie’s midsection and unhooked him. Jamie felt immediate relief but didn’t show his gratitude. He scowled at the officer the whole way down the ladder, just to show all the idiots what was what.
“I was just about to get down.”
“Right, right,” returned Bald Cop as they reached the ground.
Jamie started after some of the kids who were still laughing, but the officer grabbed his arm. “Hold on. You’re not going anywhere until I get some answers. Let’s start with an easy one. Name?”
“Fitzgibbons,” mumbled Jamie, giving the “this isn’t over” look to the kids who were snickering behind Bald Cop.
“Tell me again how you ended up like that?”
Jamie found Adele standing in the crowd, hands defiantly on her hips. “Like she said. Brutal Toot.”
“That’s real smart, kid. Looks like you bought yourself a ticket and a ride in the squad car. What’s your address?”
“My mom’s out of town,” Jamie lied. “You’ll have to take me to my dad’s lab.”
Twenty minutes and one sore-bottomed ride later, Bald Cop and Jamie arrived at the Accelerton compound. The facility was deserted except for his dad’s lab and a sleepy security guard who wasn’t used to late-Saturday-night visitors. After a brief explanation over the security intercom, Jamie and the police officer were allowed inside the gates. Dr. Fitzgibbons waited for them in the lobby, looking nearly as angry as Jamie felt.
“Let’s hear it, Officer,” Fitzgibbons said, though he never took his eyes off his son. “Who did he beat up this time?” For once, Jamie returned his father’s angry glare.
“Beat up?” said Bald Cop, puzzled. “You got it wrong, Doc. We got called out to the drive-in about some stolen wieners and saw your son hanging from the sign by his shorts.”
Fitzgibbons blinked twice and turned to face the officer. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“He claims he was trying to rearrange the letters, but how he hooked his underpants on the marquee is beyond me. All I know is that he’s lucky he didn’t fall and break his neck.”
“I could have jumped from there…” Jamie began.
Fitzgibbons held up a hand. “That’s enough,” he snapped. “I apologize for my son’s behavior and even more for his attitude, Officer. Where do we go from here?”
Jamie fumed as Bald Cop tore a pink ticket off a pad. “I’m citing your son with a municipal ordinance violation. Technically the charge is ‘disturbing the peace.’”
“More like ‘disturbing your doughnut break,’” mumbled Jamie.
“That is enough, Jamie,” said Fitzgibbons, taking the ticket and slipping it into his shirt pocket.
Bald Cop rubbed his smooth head, ready to get on his way. “Just pay the fine, Doc. We’ve never had any trouble with your son in the past, and I expect this’ll be the end of it.” He gave Jamie a look that said it had better be.
Fitzgibbons held the door for the officer as he exited the building, then took Jamie by his shoulder back through the security door and down the hall to the utility room where he’d washed test tubes earlier in the day. “Okay, let’s have it.”
“Have what?”
“What in the world were you doing up on a sign?”
“Forget about that! How about you tell me what you’re doing in there!” Jamie’s head jerked toward the lab that he’d snuck into just hours before. He was so angry that his hands shook.
“Don’t you dare try to turn this around, Jamie. This isn’t football coaches anymore. It’s police officers! And if you think for one moment that your mother and I—”
“A giant hung me up there!” Jamie shouted. “Charlie Lawson’s smelly, crooked-toothed giant buddy! Gen50! Now do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Fitzgibbons’s jaw dropped. “What?”<
br />
“A giant, like you don’t know,” spewed Jamie. “I think you cooked him up in your top-secret lab with your fat little friend.”
The skin on Fitzgibbons’s forehead twitched. “This giant—where is it now?”
“You made that guy big instead of me,” Jamie seethed, pounding his chest. “Why not me?”
Fitzgibbons put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “This is very important, Jamie. After the giant hung you on the sign, where did it go?”
Jamie jerked himself free. “How should I know? Everyone was laughing at me, the cops were shining flashlights in my face, and then it was gone.”
“We can’t let that giant get away!” Fitzgibbons turned to hurry back to his lab, and Jamie followed.
“I’m coming!”
“I need you here,” Fitzgibbons said, spinning Jamie toward a computer terminal on a nearby desk. “Record every single thing you remember about what happened. Do you realize that you’re one of the first people in the entire world to make contact? Describe what the giant looked like. Did it talk? What did it say? How did it say it? Don’t leave out a single detail.”
Fitzgibbons hurried out into the hall and scanned his palm. The laboratory door unlocked. He disappeared inside the lab, leaving his son to watch the door begin to close.
One thousand one …
18
Lightning tore across the sky as an Accelerton company jet soared high over the state of Arkansas. Although the Fasten Seat Belt signs were lit, the Stick paid them no attention. He had more important things on his mind, like capturing a giant.
The Stick paced the length of the small cabin, tastefully furnished with four executive-style leather chairs and a marble table. His civilian outfit, as always, was nondescript: a lightweight tan sport coat over a white button-down shirt with matching tan slacks, his impeccably shined shoes black and simple. The black hair atop his head was cut at military length. A little salt and pepper showed on the sides. His build was wiry-strong.
He swallowed hot black coffee in long gulps while checking the windows on both sides of the aircraft. It bounced in the turbulence of a dark storm.
“Please sit down, sir,” said the flight’s lone cabin attendant, Lori, a brunette in her late twenties. The lapel of her jacket was embroidered with the Accelerton double helix. She was strapped into her seat near the cockpit.