Stealth Moves

by Sanna Hines

  Holly pieced together what happened. Dan thought she was attacking when the coat flew at him. He fired his stunner, which lay on the floor, spent bolts stuck into fur. Mike clobbered Dan with the sound hammer, hitting Dan’s weak point, the fragile jaw. Mike dodged a blow from Dan or tripped. He was getting to his feet now.

  Dan stopped screaming when he slumped to the floor. A shadow swept over him and then a man moved into view, muttering “Too much noise.” He knelt to inspect Dan, said, “Still breathing,” and stood to face Mike. He had something small and hammer-shaped in one gloved hand.

  Mike retreated into the room a few steps. He gripped his weapon but said in a friendly voice, “Hello, Brent.”

  Startled by his change in appearance, Holly heard Brent say, “Hate the name.” He held up his left palm. “Need that.” He nodded toward the weapon.

  “Sorry,” Mike said. “No can do.”

  “Doesn’t work,” Brent informed him. “Defective.” He lifted his smaller weapon. “This works. Used it on you before.”

  Holly had an idea. She stood, surprising Brent, who regarded her curiously. “Pitch the gun in the toilet, Mike. If he wants it, he can fish it out.” She pointed to the open closet door.

  Brent stuck his head into the room. His nose must have told him she wasn’t lying. He stepped back into the hallway, stumbled against Dan’s legs, and rebounded from the contact as though he’d been burned. Flashing Mike a warning look, he closed his eyes.

  A second later, he opened them. His blank expression turned fierce. “Give me that thing,” a higher voice demanded. He held out an insistent hand. “It doesn’t belong to you. It’s his.”

  Mike took a step nearer the toilet.

  “You think a little filth’s going to stop me? I change diapers. Scrub skin mold and fungus. Dry and oil. Been doing it for years. A toilet’s nothing.” He turned his attention to Holly. “I don’t like you, but Stealth says you’re not important. Where’s Olivia? I know she’s somewhere on this floor.” His look of urgency disappeared when he cocked his head and gazed toward the ceiling. “Oh. Okay.” Without another word, he shut the room’s door. Holly heard the sound of dragging. He was hauling Dan away.

  “Quick!” Holly said. “Lock the door!”

  “Won’t do any good against infrasound. Brent can get us anywhere in this house. He knows the place better than we do.” Mike whispered, “And we need to keep pretending Liv’s still here.”

  Holly gaped at him.

  “Don’t play poker. You’re no good at bluffing. How did she escape?”

  Holly felt a stab of fear. Was this the good Mike or the bad one? Had he tricked her into disarming Dan only to pull off some scheme of his own?

  “You trusted me before,” Mike said, as though he were reading her mind. “Why?”

  She didn’t know until this moment. “Because Liv trusts you.”

  “Good answer. Shush. He’s coming back.”

  The door opened. The high-pitched voice said, “Look, Stealth needs the weapon.” He tossed a packet of hand wipes into the room. “He doesn’t want other people getting it ‘cause it’s dangerous. Clean the grip, then give it to me.”

  “Are we talking to Brandon?” Mike asked while he wiped the sound gun’s handle.

  He grinned. “Yeah. It’s me.”

  “What’s going to happen to us, Brandon?”

  He wiggled his mouth. “Stealth says to put you in the elevator. We’ll leave you locked between floors but not taped. You just have to chill until we’re gone.” He shrugged off the backpack to hold it by one strap. “I’ll take Stealth’s weapon now. Slide it across the floor.”

  Mike pushed it toward him. “You’re leaving?”

  Brandon toed the gun closer until he could stoop to reach it and still keep the smaller weapon aimed at them. Putting the big one in the backpack and sliding his free arm through the strap, he said, “Soon as we find Olivia. Say…” Brandon paused, eyeing the closet. “She could be in there.” He waved them back and strode toward the open door, ignoring the odious toilet. He said, “Not there. What have you done with her?”

  “Haven’t seen her,” Holly said. “She got away while we were in the elevator.”

  “You’re lying. Olivia came here to be with us.”

  The clatter of breaking glass from the front of the house made everyone’s head turn. Brandon swiveled on his heel and ran toward the sound.

  Holly was only a heartbeat behind him, but his long legs outstripped hers. He slammed the front bedroom door in her face and she heard the lock click. Furious, Holly beat on the door. “Damn you! Leave her alone!” Her kick didn’t budge solid wood on brass hinges.

  Mike caught up. “Let me,” he said, pushing Holly aside. His kick sent the door banging against the wall.

  “I’ll be damned,” Holly said. She stepped into the room, glancing at Dan on the bed. He was still out—probably a good thing considering the shape his jaw was in.

  Kyle cried, “He left me! Went after the girls.”

  Holly headed for the open bathroom door. Inside, purple glass and a piece of mirror dusted with ash littered the floor. Midnight sky showed through the high casement window sagging on its hinges, Liv’s rope belt still attached to the frame. A melted bucket in the purple-stained sink held a broken light bulb, toothpaste, face soap, a toilet paper roll, sugar packets, salt substitute, a cold pack and a tube of wound dressing. Holly wondered what Ariel had been doing.

  She was testing the tautness of the rope when Mike came into the bathroom. “Little shit won’t tell me where his phone is, but I’ll find it and call the cops—the real cops.” He gave Holly a long look. “You’re scared of the roof.”

  “Terrified,” Holly admitted. “In the elevator, I didn’t think about how tall this house is. When Liv talked about climbing, I did.”

  “Face the building,” Mike said. “Make sure your holds and footing are firm. Can you climb a rope?”

  Holly nodded. She wrapped the cord around her foot and stood on it, pulling herself up to the window ledge. She said, “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck—but be careful. Brent has Dan’s gun.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Day 15—Saturday, just past midnight

  Liv had used Holly’s distraction to reach the ledge outside Ari’s bathroom prison. One pane in the leaded-glass window was broken, but it was on the wrong side, the side away from the latch. Her friend’s head was at least three feet below the window.

  “Li-iv?!” Ari stammered the word. “What are you doing here?”

  “Rescuing you,” Liv whispered through a cracked pane. “I saw your smoke signals.”

  “Well, it’s about time,” Ari huffed. “Been sending out smoke for ages. I—”

  “Shh!” Liv held a finger over her lips. “I’m going to break that part by the latch and let down a rope. Can you climb a rope?”

  Ari’s nodded. “I learned at camp.”

  Liv waved her toward the bathtub padded with towels—Ari’s bed for the past two weeks, she guessed. Clicking the metal heel of her shoe in place, Liv slammed it into the window. Amethyst glass shattered, making a horrocious noise. Liv scrambled to open the window and hook her belt to the frame. “Hurry! They’ll be after us for sure.”

  “Who?” Ari asked as she climbed to Liv’s level.

  “Bad guys. Real bad. Killers. Keep moving.”

  “Ohmygod.” Ari flew up the rope, but when her knees were on the sill, she threw her arms around Liv and hugged her. Then, eyes wide, she said, “That’s the Common? It’s…it’s so far down.”

  “C’mon, Ari, we’re going to Chase’s, just a few houses away. Be quiet.” Liv reset her heel and led off along the ledge. It was at least a foot and a half wide, easy walking. When she reached the bigger front window, she turned back to see Ari only one step from the bathroom, staring down at the street, arms out, back plastered against the roof.

  Liv knew what she’d done wrong. She told Ari to be silent, but Ari neede
d to talk. If her mouth moved, her feet would, too. “You have to see this,” Liv lured. “Kyle’s tied up and cuffed to a chair.”

  “Where?” Ari unfroze and inched toward the window to peer in. “Ha! Just what he deserves, the jerk.” She stuck out her tongue. “Who’s the guy—Oh! That’s a cop on the bed.”

  “Dirty cop.” Liv moved faster so Ari would have to keep pace to talk to her. The talking worked. Ari followed without hesitation. “I’m glad someone laid him out. Probably Holly.”

  “Who’s Holly?”

  “My bodyguard.”

  “You have a bodyguard?” Ari’s eyes popped. “Liv, what’s happened to you? You’re so different—and what’s with the outfit?”

  “It’s my superhero costume. I’m Beacon now, thanks to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Everything changed because of you.” Liv reached the end of the Tinsley house ledge. The next building had a flat roof edged by a low stone railing on the street side. The place beyond was taller, with a half-floor penthouse set back behind a terrace. The windows on the penthouse were dark. It looked like no one used the space, but that didn’t matter. The way was clear for at least those two houses. After that, the roofline went higher.

  “Liv…” Ari’s stage whisper cut into Liv’s thoughts. “Somebody’s looking out the bathroom window.”

  She saw a man’s head and shoulders push toward the ledge, but something stopped him. He disappeared back into the house. “Could be the guy who kidnapped you. Run!”

  They shot across the flats to the third house. “We’re trapped!” Ari stared at smooth stone wall.

  Liv turned to check on their pursuer, seeing his shape on the ledge, a backpack slung over one shoulder. She returned her attention to the wall ahead, topped by a thick, overhanging cornice. “We have to jump this.”

  Ari looked at her like she was crazy.

  “Trust me.” Liv planted her foot on a stone, then tapped a spot several inches higher because Ari was taller. “Put the ball of your foot here when you jump.”

  “I jump?” Ari said faintly.

  “After I’m up there. I’ll reach down with my jacket. You grab it—hang on tight—and then…” Cam’s words came back to her. “Picture yourself going up like a rocket. Believe you’re taking off, and you’ll make it.”

  Cam. He had to be near Boston by now. Backing away from the wall to get some running speed, Liv imagined him cheering her on. “For Cam!” she yelled, jumping against the penthouse, twisting in air, and catching the cornice above the stone wall. She stifled a groan during the pull-up.

  “You are awesome!” Ari cried.

  Liv shucked off her jacket, knotted the sleeve and hung it over the edge for Ari. “C’mon, c’mon,” she urged. “He’s nearly on us.”

  Ari jumped at the wall and fell back. She tried again, but her fingertips slipped away from the silk. “I can’t do it,” she wailed.

  “You can, you can. Go again.”

  But it was too late. The kidnapper caught up to Ari.

  And then he batted her away—just like that. Like she was a fly or something bothering him. Ari thudded against the penthouse, looking dazed and scared.

  “Olivia, come down. It’s all right. We’re here,” he called.

  “Don’t you dare harm Ari,” she hissed.

  He looked over his shoulder at the girl cowering by a window. “We don’t want her. You’re the one we need.”

  “Who’s we?” Liv asked.

  “Me and my brother.”

  “If you’re Brent Tinsley, your brother’s dead,” Liv said.

  “Well…” he drawled the word, “it used to be a big secret, but I can tell you. I’m Brandon. I’m alive. Stealth’s alive. We’re both here.” He tapped his chest, then looked thoughtful. “Oh, I guess you never met Stealth. Well, actually, you did—at the café, at the phone store—but I don’t think he introduced himself. Wait.” He looked down at his feet.

  Liv saw Holly’s bushy head pop out the window of the Tinsley house. Holly would save them!

  Her hopes fell when her bodyguard stood on the ledge and froze up the way Ari had done. Holly was alone. There was no one to talk her through it, make her move. She’d never reach them in time.

  Liv scanned the rooftop, searching frantically for something to do. She couldn’t leave Ari, but she wouldn’t go down to be captured by that guy. He killed Natalie.

  An expressionless face with a deeper voice told her, “Get down. He wants you.”

  “He?” Liv asked. Then she knew. “You’re the other one, the one he called ‘Stealth’. What do you want from me?”

  “Hostage.”

  Liv shrank away, her impulse to flee hard to control, but he was down there and she was one floor up. “Leave me alone! I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” She couldn’t keep her voice from quavering.

  He shrugged. “Have to stop you.”

  Ari had been slinking along the windows, stealing back in the direction of the Tinsley house. He went to her, seized her wrist and pulled her along. She screamed.

  Holly finally reached the flat roof. She charged. Stealth swung Ari directly into Holly’s path so the two collided. Then he spun, sprinted toward Liv, and leapt.

  Shocked to see his hands gripping the cornice top, she lost precious time while her mind took in the impossibly high straight jump he’d made. But he was tall—real tall. And he was pulling himself up.

  She dashed toward the next roof. Her way was blocked by a divider running all the way to the back of the property and a chimney close to the street. There was nothing but air above the divider; the next place had to be shorter. Chase’s building was still two houses away.

  No time, no time. She heard Stealth’s steps behind her. Liv reached the chimney and saw a balcony projecting from the shorter house. The balcony was a foot or two beyond a notch between houses. Liv turned, saw the madman only feet away. She threw her jacket onto the balcony, gripped the chimney with both hands, and swung out, aiming for the railing.

  She missed. Her legs rocked back to dangle over the fifty-foot drop.

  A hard push to her spine propelled her toward the railing, where she touched down and pitched forward to land on the balcony deck. Her hands and knees stung, but she fought through pain to scramble to her feet. He was so close she could hear him grunt when he hit the railing behind her.

  She turned, expecting him to grab her and throw her from the balcony, but he wasn’t there. His gloved hands clung to the railing while his body hung below, backpack wedged into the gap. He’d pushed her to safety but missed his own jump. Now, he was trapped.

  Liv took off her shoe. She’d hit his hands with the metal heel, make him fall. And then—

  And then, she’d be a murderer just like him.

  Liv shuddered, squatted to peer through the railing at his face, saw defeated brown eyes. He didn’t plead for help; he just looked at her.

  “I should let you fall,” she said, “for killing Natalie.”

  “Mistake,” he rumbled. “Accident. Told Brandon—”

  Exasperated, Liv said, “Brandon! Stealth! Just be one person, can’t you?”

  He took the question literally. “No. Not since Brandon died.”

  “I don’t get it. You want to kill me, yet you save me. Why?”

  “Not kill, not harm. Gun in the backpack. Didn’t use it. Brandon cares about you, wants to free you.” He looked down. “Brandon died on a street. Stealth will die on a street.”

  Liv made her decision. “Not today.” She pulled on his arms, but he was too heavy; she couldn’t budge him. Leaning over his head, she reached for a backpack strap. If she tugged the pack loose up, he could use his own muscles to make it onto the balcony.

  He said sharply, “Don’t! You’ll fall.”

  “Hang on. Just hang on.”

  Liv picked up her jacket from the balcony floor and pressed the buttons for lights. She turned on all her costume lights—headpiece, blouse, pants—till she was so
bright people on Beacon would have to see her. “Help!” she shouted. “Help! Call the police!” She looked at the sidewalk and felt sick, seeing pedestrians hold up their phones to take pictures.

  Waving her jacket in a big arc above her head, Liv yelled “Fire!” because she’d heard people reacted more to fire more than cries for help. Someone had to see her; someone had to help, but no one was doing anything.

  Desperate, Liv flung her jacket out over the street. It sparkled against the night sky like fireworks. As it fluttered down to Beacon, she heard squealing brakes. An old, beat car swerved sideways across lanes, stopping traffic in both directions. Liv grinned. The cops would come now.

  She heard voices and turned toward the sounds. A man and a woman dropped down from Chase’s roof, rolled, ran to the next roof and did the same thing again. Whoever they were, they looked like cats—black cats—because of the dark clothes they wore. Liv called, “Help! We’re here!” and saw them clearly when they stood on the roof above the balcony.

  Liv gaped at Ari’s Aunt Zarah. Next to her was a young man, probably Holly’s age, who looked fit, strong.

  “Are you all right, child?” Zarah asked.

  “Yes, but he’s not.” She pointed to Stealth. “Help him, please.”

  The man hopped down to the balcony, stepped past Liv, and gripped Stealth’s arms. His muscles strained, but he had no luck shifting all that weight. Discovering the backpack problem, he yanked it loose from where it was stuck. Stealth lifted himself over the railing and onto the balcony. His gaze shifted from his rescuer to Ari’s aunt. “Who are you?”

  “I am Zarah. That is Noam, my associate. Make a threatening move, and he will paralyze you. If you have killed Ariel, it will be permanent.”

  “Ari’s all right,” Liv said. “She’s with Holly a couple houses away.”

  Zarah looked in the direction Liv pointed. “And the kidnapped boy?”

  “Kyle’s okay, too. I think everyone’s okay except that cop. Someone knocked him out.” Liv made a face. “He’s a bad cop.”