Troublemakers #1 (9781442440319)

by Burns, T. R.

  As my palms begin to sweat inside my gloves, I look down at the group again. No one’s moved besides Abe, who’s clearly given up on me and is spraying the side of the ring-toss booth. I’m debating whether I should give up on me when my eyes catch the silver glint of the spray-paint can.

  That’s it.

  I wave to Lemon and motion to Abe. Lemon catches on immediately, hurries to the ring-toss booth, and says something I can’t hear. Ten seconds later he’s at the base of the slide’s ladder.

  “Good luck,” he says. And then he tosses up the spray-paint can.

  I move quickly, automatically. I tear off pieces of duct tape and use them to attach the spray-paint can to the top of one Boomaree and the second Boomaree to the top of the spray-paint can. When I’m done, it looks like a giant aerosol Oreo.

  Holding my breath, I aim. Focus. Turn back my wrist, bring my arm all the way across my chest . . . and fling it forward.

  The Boomaree slams into the box. The spray-paint can explodes. The combined force sends the box flying off the wooden pole to the carousel roof, where it lands and detonates like a bomb—a real bomb, not one made for effective-yet-safe troublemaking.

  The earth shakes. The ladder quivers. I try to hold on, but my gloves slip from the railings. I hit the ground with a thud.

  At which point I’m pretty sure I’m dead. But then I manage to open one eye.

  And watch a single tear slide down Annika’s cheek.

  “Congratulations, Seamus,” she whispers. “You’ve successfully completed this year’s Ultimate Troublemaking Task.”

  Chapter 26

  DEMERITS: 5000

  GOLD STARS: 830

  Annika offers me a hand. I take it. As she helps me up, the rest of the park comes into view. Five Good Samaritans are already working on putting out the tall, flickering flames that engulf the carousel. The alliance members cheer. Ike, Houdini, Wyatt, Devin, Samara, Fern, Lizzie, and even Mr. Tempest stand by the iron arch. Except for our solved Mystery, everyone claps.

  Annika leads me before the carousel. She’s wearing a long, hooded ice-blue cape with matching gloves, furry white boots, and a furry white hat. Her hair trails past her shoulders in soft, loose waves. She’s never looked prettier except for one thing.

  “I’m crying,” she says. “You made me cry.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say automatically.

  “Don’t be.” She sniffs, dabs at the corners of her eyes. “I’ve never been prouder.”

  I look at her, then behind me at the poor fake horses. They’re missing noses, eyes, legs, and tails. Flames crackle and smoke swirls around them.

  “You’re crying because you’re proud?” I ask. “Not because you’re sad?”

  “Why would I be sad? This place was a bad memory, nothing more. Now I get to remember it as something that helped a group of very talented Troublemakers further their careers.”

  She waves to the faculty members. The group parts in the middle and moves down, revealing a long table covered in silver platters, ice buckets, and champagne flutes.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Fish sticks, sparkling cider, and your alliance’s favorite snacks.” She waves at Lemon, Abe, and Gabby. “Don’t worry! Though Seamus is responsible for the ultimate destruction of the carousel, we recognize that his actions wouldn’t have been possible without yours.”

  “So we passed the task?” Abe asks.

  “Indeed,” Annika says. “With fewer demerits than your leader, but successfully all the same.”

  Abe and Gabby whoop, exchange high fives, and head for the snack table. Lemon, smiling, follows close behind. Still processing everything, I hang back with Annika.

  “How’d you get here so fast?” I ask. “There were no security cameras. And I don’t think any of us actually thought we were going to pull this off—at least, not until the very last second.”

  “Seamus.” Annika smiles. Winks. “I have my ways.”

  Which is exactly what Elinor said when she broke me out of solitary confinement. And that reminds me . . . where is Elinor? She’s not with the alliance members or our teachers. She’s not with the Good Samaritans, either.

  “It’s like a snow globe.”

  As Annika heads toward the snack table, my head snaps to the right. Through the smoke and snow, I can barely make out a figure lying on the ground at the base of the carousel.

  “Elinor.” I run. Drop to my knees. Feel the blood leave my face. “Oh no—what—how—?”

  She puts one blistered palm to my arm and lifts her chin. “Isn’t it?” she asks softly. “Like being in a snow globe?”

  Between the thick flakes, light from the fires, and music someone’s turned on near the snack table, yes, Annika’s Apex looks like it should be under a shiny glass dome. But I can’t think about that. All I can think about is Elinor’s right hand and forearm, which are bare—because her mitten and sleeve have been singed off. Her skin looks like pink bubble wrap.

  “Help!” I yell, yanking off my backpack. “She’s hurt!”

  The music grows louder as I fumble through my supplies. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Duct tape? A fire extinguisher?

  “Please!” I shout. “Elinor’s been burned! She needs help!”

  I turn the backpack upside down. The contents drop into the snow. As I sift through them, the music grows even louder. I glance behind me to see everyone still talking, laughing, and eating like nothing’s wrong.

  “Elinor.” I lean toward her. Gently brush her hair off her face. “Don’t move, okay? I’m going to get help.”

  She tries to smile. I make sure she’s far enough away from the lingering flames and then sprint to the table.

  “We need help,” I gasp, knocking the iPod player to the ground. The park falls silent. “Elinor’s hurt. Badly.”

  Here’s what I expect to happen: Annika, our teachers, and Capital T will drop their plates and run as fast as they can to our fallen Troublemaker. The Good Samaritans will beat them there and immediately start bandaging her burns. Annika will call for a helicopter that will swoop down in seconds and whisk Elinor away to the nearest hospital. Some of our teachers, and maybe Annika herself, will accompany Elinor so that she knows she’s not alone. Once they’re safely on their way, the rest of us will finish putting out fires and return to campus, where we’ll anxiously await news.

  Here’s what actually happens: Lemon, Abe, and Gabby drop their plates and run as fast as they can to our fallen Troublemaker. Our teachers exchange concerned looks but don’t move. Annika frowns as she peers past me, and then takes her K-Pak from the folds of her cape. She types quickly, replaces the K-Pak, and smiles at me.

  “Thank you, Seamus. Elinor will be fine.”

  I glance behind me. One Good Samaritan—not even all five—jogs over to Elinor. He squats next to her and takes a handful of Band-Aids from his fanny pack.

  I turn back. “That’s it? She’s really hurt. It’s freezing up here. We need to get her off this mountain. Now.”

  Annika still smiles, but she looks different. Her lips are pressed tighter together. Her eyes narrow. Her voice is cool when she takes a tall glass from the table, holds it toward me, and says, “Everything’s under control. Why don’t you have some sparkling cider and relax?”

  My chin falls. This reaction to any injured student would be bad enough . . . but Elinor is Annika’s niece. Annika should be so worried she has trouble running and barking orders—but she should run and bark orders anyway. How can she care so little about her own family?

  I shake my head and shuffle backward. Slowly at first, then faster. I give Annika several seconds to change her mind, to somehow make this right. But instead she takes the iPod player from the ground and turns the music back on.

  So I spin around and run. When I reach Elinor, she’s sitting up. Her hand and arm are covered with Band-Aids. Capital T kneels in the snow around her. Lemon waits for the Good Samaritan to go off for more bandages, then leans towar
d me.

  “I’ve had my share of burns,” he whispers. “These aren’t life-threatening, but they do require immediate, professional treatment. We need to get her to our scooters. She can ride back down the mountain in the sidecar, and we’ll get help from there.”

  I swallow and nod. It’s all I can do.

  They move quickly but carefully. I don’t know if the adults will try to intervene, but for better or worse, they’re too busy at their little party to pay attention. Elinor walks between Lemon and Abe, who each keep an arm around her for support. They weave through the food and game stands and hurry through the iron arch.

  I stay behind. Partly because I’m too stunned to move, but mostly because I want to stop the adults if they realize the kids have left and try to make trouble.

  Still in the snow where it fell after I turned my backpack upside down, my K-Pak buzzes. Keeping one eye on the festivities, I pick it up. I click on my K-Mail and open the new message.

  Dear Seamus,

  I’m so sorry it’s taken this long to get back to you. I recently returned from a long vacation and am just now catching up on my e-mail.

  In any case, I wanted to let you know that I’m so glad you wrote, and I really appreciate everything you said in your note. Being a teacher isn’t always easy, and I know the same is doubly true about being a student.

  That said, I hope you know that I’m not mad, or upset, or sad about what happened. You were very brave to try to help, and for that I’ll always be grateful.

  If you’d like to write me again, I’d be happy to do the same.

  “Hey, Seamus!” Ike shouts from the table. “Who are you going to pick?”

  I can’t feel my face, but somehow it lifts up. If the adults have noticed that I’m the only Troublemaker left, they don’t care. “What do you mean?”

  “For your first real-world troublemaking combat mission!”

  As Houdini, Wyatt, Devin, and the other faculty members smile and wave, I vaguely recall something Annika said about choosing one to accompany on a top secret assignment.

  I don’t answer. My face drops, and my eyes lock on five words at the bottom of the K-Pak screen.

  With kind regards,

  Miss Parsippany