The Hunt for Dark Infinity 1r-2

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The Hunt for Dark Infinity 1r-2 Page 14

by James Dashner


  Sato’s mind had been drifting, and he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “What was that? An assignment?”

  “Yes, a mission of sorts.”

  Sato swallowed. He felt as if the temperature in the room had risen twenty degrees. “You want me to…” He had mentioned the possibility of sending someone to gather samples, but he’d never guessed the old man would choose him.

  “I can think of no better Realitant for this than you, Sato. You have stealth and wit about you. Plus, no one will suspect someone so young, and if you do get in a bind, I trust your ability to get out of it.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Rutger said, squirming on his booster seat. “What mission are you talking about?”

  George paused before answering. “Sato and I are positive the explanation for people going crazy is some type of plague-literally. And we’re quite sure it’s linked to Chu’s superweapon. I want to send Sato into the area most infected with this plague and obtain a blood sample from one of the victims. Until we understand the disease, we won’t know how to fight it.”

  Sato barely heard George’s words, as if they were coming down a long, dark tunnel. George wanted to send him. What if… what if he caught the plague? He was perfectly willing to face danger in his quest to avenge his parents’ death, but the prospect of a nasty disease that made you crazy sickened him. Frightened him.

  “Are you up to it?” Mothball asked, reaching over and patting Sato’s arm.

  “Huh? What?” he said.

  “Are you up to it, I said.”

  Sato looked around at the others in the room. Several beads of sweat finally let go and slid down his temples. He hadn’t expected this.

  “I… uh…” In that moment, the image of his parents burning popped into his head, and his squishy fear hardened into concrete resolve.

  “I’ll do it,” he said, trying his best to keep his voice firm. “I’ll be fine.”

  Sally stood up, folding his arms across his broad chest. “I reckon I’ll go wid the young fella.”

  George shook his head. “No, Sally. I have an entirely different mission for you.”

  Chapter 22

  Lots of Left Turns

  They’d been walking for hours.

  This new Reality seemed the most normal of any Tick had visited so far. Aside from a few oddities, it wasn’t much different from his hometown in Reality Prime. One of those differences was the style of the buildings and the clothes of the citizens. It was slight, but everything here seemed a little more elaborate, a little fancier. Many businesses had huge fountains in front, with complex displays of shooting water; the moldings on the houses had carved pictures of animals and trees. The men wore fancy dark suits and greased back their hair, and the women wore dresses with white gloves pulled clear past their elbows. Also, an eerie, operatic soprano voice sang from speakers throughout the town.

  Another odd thing: the place appeared to only have left turns-at least off the road on which they currently walked.

  “Dude, what’s up with this?” Paul said, pointing to his right, where a thick forest of tall trees loomed like an ominous wall. “Look at all that land out there. Why aren’t they building on it?”

  “Who cares?” Sofia said, annoyance creeping back into her voice. “Maybe they’re a bunch of idiots.”

  Tick understood her mood. Even though the weather was pleasant here-partly cloudy sky, soft breeze, warm but not hot-he felt like they were going nowhere fast. Not to mention the sick feeling he still had from almost being trampled by a raging monster inside a gigantic glass straw.

  Paul yawned. “Just seems a little weird that there’s this huge town to our left, but nothing at all to our right. We should open a real estate office.”

  Sofia ignored him. “Well, our plan to stay on this road isn’t working. I say we go into the city.”

  “Me too,” Tick agreed. “Everything is starting to look the same-I swear I saw that exact building a couple of hours ago.” He pointed to a tall office complex made of dark granite with shiny, black windows that sparkled as if inlaid with gold.

  “Whoa,” Paul said, stopping.

  “What?” Tick and Sofia asked at the same time.

  “That building doesn’t just look familiar-it is the same one we saw earlier. I’m positive. Man, this road is a ginormous circle that goes around the city. No wonder we’re not getting anywhere.”

  “That explains all the left turns,” Tick added.

  “I thought we were all supposed to be smart,” Sofia said. “It took us how long to figure this out?”

  “Come on,” Paul said. “Let’s go into the town and find a sweet old lady who’s willing to feed some starving kids.”

  Right on cue, Tick’s stomach rumbled with hunger. “Hope our money works here.”

  “I doubt it, but we can try,” Paul said.

  At the next road, they turned left, the wall of trees now at their backs.

  Reginald looked down at the weaselly little hotel owner of Circle City, rocking between his two feet, fidgeting with the buttons on his fancy red vest. Chu was astonished that someone could show so much weakness in front of another grown man. His name was Phillip, and he couldn’t be more than five feet tall, fat, with streaks of black hair pasted in greasy lines across his obviously bald head.

  Ah, yes. The comb-over. Delightful. Reginald swore that if he ever went bald, he’d simply invent a way to make his hair grow back. Hmm, he thought. I can’t believe I haven’t done that yet…

  “What do I get out of all this?” Phillip said, his voice sounding to Reginald like a talking rat high on helium. “And how do I find the kids?”

  “They’re in the city. Three young teenagers-a Caucasian with brown hair, a girl with black hair, and a dark-skinned boy who’s a full foot taller than you and ten times as handsome. They’ll be wandering around, obviously lost, smelling like a bag of three-week-old tuna-the brats haven’t showered in days.”

  Frankly, Reginald was annoyed that Atticus still had the other two kids with him. He’d hoped they’d have been killed by now, but they seemed as determined as their powerful friend. No matter. That was the beauty of the test-there were no rules, not really. If Atticus made it to the end, he made it to the end. Even if he had the help of friends and the Realitants.

  Realitants. What a waste of human DNA.

  “All right,” Phillip said. “I’ll send out my boys to find them, bring them here, offer them rooms, as you said.”

  “And feed them. They’ll be here at least a week, probably longer. I want the boy-I mean, I want all of them-well-rested and strong for what lies ahead. I will pay you double your rates, plus a bonus.”

  “What kind of bonus?” The hotel owner tried his very best to display an expression of professional hardball on his face, but it looked more like a fat squirrel eyeing an acorn.

  Reginald stifled a laugh. “The value of one week’s worth of rent for all your rooms.”

  Phillip choked, his eyes wide with the prospect of such a sum for doing almost nothing. “I’ll have to think about-”

  “Shut up and take the deal,” Reginald said.

  Phillip nodded, his face flushed red. “Okay, it’s a deal. I’ll have them here, safe and sound, by tonight.”

  “Good.” Reginald reached into his pocket and pulled out two sealed envelopes, then handed them over. “The thick one is half your money, including the bonus, plus money for the kids to spend. You’ll get the rest of your portion when they… disappear.”

  “And this other one?” The hotel owner held up the thin envelope.

  “I want you to deliver that to them at precisely six o’clock. If you can’t get them to the hotel before then, wait until morning to deliver it. I don’t care if it’s am or pm, just give it to them at six o’clock.”

  Phillip’s eyes squinched up in confusion.

  “Don’t ask any more questions,” Reginald said. “Just do as I say and enjoy the money.”

  After giving Phillip a few more
instructions, Reginald turned and walked away, enjoying himself and his clever ways even more than usual.

  “All right,” Paul said as they passed a small group of kids playing a version of soccer with a square ball. “I’ve known for awhile that you guys stink, but now I can smell myself. I don’t care if it’s in one of those fancy fountains-I need to get clean.”

  Tick lifted up his arm and smelled his armpit. “We do stink. Dude.”

  “I don’t,” Sofia said. “But I’m starving.”

  “I’m glad you think you smell so nice,” Paul said, stopping to study Sofia up and down. “What’s your secret?”

  Sofia halted as well, folding her arms and returning the stare. “I don’t sweat.”

  “You don’t sweat?” Paul looked over at Tick. “She doesn’t sweat, Tick. Now I’ve heard everything.” He continued walking toward the center of town, shaking his head.

  Nothing much had changed since they’d left the border road and headed deeper into the city. The buildings had gotten a little bigger with fewer pillars and less frilly decoration; apartments and condos had replaced the extravagant neighborhood homes. The sun had sunk lower in the sky, the darkened glow of twilight fast approaching. None of the people they passed paid them much mind, despite their dirty clothes and haggard appearance. Everyone seemed extremely busy-all made up and pressed clean.

  “Look up there,” Sofia said, pointing straight ahead.

  Less than a quarter-mile ahead of them, twelve roads came together like spokes of a wheel, intersecting in a huge open-air mall where hundreds of people milled about. Tick realized something, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.

  “Where are all the cars?” he asked.

  Sofia and Paul stopped, as if stunned by the simple question.

  Paul snapped his fingers. “I knew something was missing. We haven’t seen a single car.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Sofia said. “There’s nothing primitive about this place. If anything, it seems a little more advanced than our reality.”

  “Ah, dude,” Paul said. “What if they beam around like in Star Trek? ”

  Sofia snorted. “I’ll be sure to ask Dark Gator if I see him.”

  Paul burst out laughing; Tick held his laugh in, pressing his mouth closed.

  “What?” Sofia said.

  “What did you call him?” Paul asked.

  “Dark Gator.”

  “Man, oh, man, you are too good to be true, Miss Italy, too good to be true.” Still chuckling, he walked toward all the people. “I think I see a restaurant up there. Let’s check it out.”

  Sofia looked at Tick, her eyebrows raised.

  “It’s Darth Vader, ” he whispered. “And he’s from Star Wars, not Star Trek. ”

  “Well, they both sound stupid,” she concluded, then followed Paul.

  The mall was a collection of all sorts of shops and eateries, surround by a broad expanse of inlaid bricks. The three of them stopped to see which restaurant looked most appetizing-assuming, of course, they accepted Reality Prime money. Tick’s hopes were rising, because this place had some of the same fast-food chains as back home-their logos were just slightly different.

  “Ooh, look-” Tick started to say, but a man stopped him by pulling on his elbow. Tick looked behind him to see a short, fidgety man with the worst comb-over Tick had ever seen.

  “Excuse me,” the man said, his face breaking into a smile that would have looked more natural on a rattlesnake. “Is your name, er, Atticus Higginbottom?”

  Tick didn’t know what he’d expected the man to say, but his mouth dropped open and his heart started thumping.

  “Um,” he said, looking over at his friends to see if they’d heard. By the stunned looks on their faces, he figured they had. He turned back to the man. “Yeah, I’m Tick, I mean, Atticus.”

  “That’s great, real great,” the man said, more relieved than happy. “Someone named, um, Mothball asked me to find you and offer you rooms in my hotel, The Stroke of Midnight Inn. My name is Phillip, and I’m happy to accommodate you.”

  Then he bowed. He actually bowed.

  Tick felt immediately suspicious, and it only took a second for him to see his friends felt the same.

  “Mothball sent you?” Sofia asked.

  “Why didn’t she come herself?” Paul added.

  Phillip pulled his head back, looking like a startled-albeit pudgy-chicken. “I don’t know-why would I make something like that up?”

  “What does she look like?” Tick asked.

  The man didn’t hesitate. “She’s very tall-the tallest person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Black hair, thin, not very… well, what I mean to say is… well, she’s a bit homely, to be honest.”

  “A-plus on that quiz,” Paul muttered, and Tick felt himself relax a little.

  “She said you’d be staying here for a week or so,” Phillip continued. “She paid me in advance and asked me to provide you three meals a day, plus whatever else you might need.”

  The prospect of a nice hotel room, a hot shower, and all the food he could eat sounded to Tick like the single best idea in the history of best ideas.

  “Good enough for me,” Paul said. “Where do we go?”

  “Wait a minute,” Sofia said, holding out her hand. “There has to be something else. There’s no message, no reason, nothing? I don’t like this.”

  “Actually,” Phillip said, “she did leave you an envelope. It’s sealed, so of course I don’t know its contents. Oddly enough, she asked me to give it to you at exactly six o’clock.” He looked at his watch. “Um, tomorrow morning.”

  Tick looked at his own watch-it was just past six-thirty. “Sounds pretty legit to me. I actually feel a ton better-like maybe Master George is behind all of this after all.”

  “Yeah,” Paul agreed. “Let’s go eat.”

  Sofia didn’t answer at first, her eyes distant as she thought it over. “Where’s the hotel?” she finally asked.

  “Right this way,” Phillip said, stepping aside and sweeping his arm wide. “If you’ll follow me, it’s on the edge of town. In fact, I’ve reserved rooms for you with a great view.”

  As Phillip led the group north along the road, Paul asked, “A view of what?”

  “The forest, of course,” Phillip said without missing a step. “If you look out your window after dark, you might see the glowing monkeys.”

  Tick waited for the man to laugh, but the only one who did was Paul. Tick almost asked if he’d been serious, but with everyone else silent, he felt stupid for even thinking it. Of course the guy was kidding. Wasn’t he?

  Chapter 23

  The Time Riddle

  The hotel was like something out of Hollywood. Big pillars, stamped gold everywhere, doormen in green velvet coats running around, treating their guests like royalty. A huge sign hung above the entrance with The Stroke of Midnight Inn written in fancy script. Inside, everything sparkled and shone, and not a person in sight had a grimace or the slightest hint of a frown. Plush red carpet blanketed the floors and grand staircase, over which an enormous chandelier hung with hundreds of crystalline lights.

  I’ve died and gone to heaven, Tick thought.

  He knew Paul must feel the same, but Sofia would surely find something to complain about, having come from such a rich family.

  Phillip led them to the fourth floor-walking up the stairs, the poor man sucked in huge gasps of breath with every step-and down a long hallway to their rooms. When Paul asked him why they hadn’t used the elevator, Phillip responded with a baffled look, as if he’d never heard of such a thing.

  Phillip opened up a room with an old-fashioned key. Tick was surprised since he’d only ever seen the magnetic-stripe key card at hotels. The room was filled with normal hotel things: a king-sized bed, a small refrigerator, a couch, a desk, and a bathroom. The only difference was that the items were ten times nicer than the stuff in hotels Tick had been in when his family traveled.

  “There are
three rooms in all,” Phillip announced, passing out keys accordingly. “There’s a menu on the desk for you to order food from the restaurant. Please be reasonable, but make sure you feed yourself nicely. Is there anything-”

  “Where’s the TV?” Paul asked.

  Phillip gave him that same bewildered look, his brow crunched up into dozens of wrinkles. “A TV? What’s that?”

  “Television. You know-movies, shows, commercials, television? ”

  “Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Tick looked at the light on the wall, which Phillip had turned on when they’d entered the room. They obviously had electricity here, but seemed to be missing a lot of other things common to Reality Prime.

  As if reading his mind, Sofia asked, “Where are all the cars?”

  Phillip put his hands in his pockets, his confused look morphing into suspicion. “Cars have been banned for at least twenty years.”

  “Banned?” Tick asked. “Why?”

  “And how do you get around?” Paul asked before Phillip could respond.

  The hotel man shook his head, looking at his three guests in turn. “When that… when Mothball made me this deal, I didn’t realize she’d be sending such odd people. Where are you kids from?”

  “Florida,” Paul answered. “Well, originally from California-”

  Sofia cut him off. “It doesn’t matter. But we’re curious about the cars. Where we come from, they still use them.”

  “The darn things were polluting us to death,” Phillip said, still appearing uneasy as he rocked back and forth on his feet. “So they banned them, made towns where everything was in walking distance. If you want to visit another town, you take the Underground Railroad-named after the lady who escaped the slave drivers a long time ago-the one who became president, Harrietta Tubben.”

 

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