The others didn’t have nearly as many issues with the two teams idea as Jeff and Christopher had. Chuckie, in particular, felt it was something our enemies wouldn’t expect.
It took Jeff and Christopher as well as the princesses, but they were finally able to rip the grate off the pipe’s end. The pipe still had a thin layer of old, icky water in it. This was good and bad. Good in that it indicated I was right and no one had given this pipe more than the cursory “look, we took care of it, happy?” treatment. It was bad because we were going to have to crawl through it to get anywhere.
We had the fun business of deciding who would go first and last. After a lot of whining and arguing, it was decided that Christopher would lead and Jeff would bring up the rear, presumably to have our best fighters and the guys who knew the intricacies of a pipe with one fork in it leading and protecting our rears.
However, because the pipe wasn’t really someplace anyone would want to have to lie down so someone else could crawl over them, our order going in actually mattered.
After much discussion, it was decided that the princesses would follow Christopher, with Tito and then Chuckie behind them. White would be behind Chuckie, with Gower, Adriana, and then me.
Way back when, during Operation Fugly, Matt, Chip, and Jerry were with us when we’d crawled this pipe tunnel, and they’d had flashlights. Turned out the only flashlights we had this time were with Adriana, whose backpack looked nowhere near to being as stuffed as my purse, but which contained so many more useful items. Thankfully she had two, so Christopher took one and White took the other. Those of us not near to those two would get to crawl in the dark.
Truly felt Jeff had insisted on me going next to last so he could be the one staring at my butt for this part of the journey. His grin when this occurred to me was pretty much confirmation. Decided it was cute and flattering and definitely preferred him focused on my butt than, say, Adriana’s, so it was all good.
“Attack” order determined and our two flashlights in the hands of each “team lead,” then it was the fun business of crawling on our hands and knees. Wished we’d left our parachute wrappings on, but hadn’t had the foresight so everyone instead got the fun of crawling through ick.
Jeff gave me his standard great kiss while the others started in. “You be careful, baby,” he said when he ended the kiss.
“I’d rather be in bed.”
He grinned, his eyes smoldered, and his eyelids drooped. “Nice to see you remain focused on the priorities.” He looked, as he so often did, like a jungle cat about to eat me. I loved this look. That I wouldn’t get to see it in the pipe or however long it was going to take us to solve our latest crisis was just another one for the Hate The Bad Guys column.
It was finally our turn. Jeff helped me down, patted my butt, and then I followed Adriana into the pipe, Jeff right behind me.
We could have used hyperspeed to get through, but Christopher didn’t want us racing in. I wasn’t sure if this was because he was burned out and hadn’t regenerated yet or was actually based on cautious wisdom. However, I agreed that conserving our strength for the battle or battles ahead was wise, so hadn’t questioned this.
The downside was that stagnant water with extra special “don’t look and you’ll be happier” additives and the fact that the pipe seemed endless, though I knew it wasn’t. It was just a lot slower going with ten of us versus five of us.
Wasn’t sure if not being able to see what we were crawling through was better than knowing exactly what we were sloshing around in or not. Especially since A-Cs had better vision than humans, and, once in for a couple of minutes, everyone’s eyes adjusted. Meaning we could make out more than just blackness. Decided not looking was probably the best course.
“You doing okay?” Jeff asked quietly.
“Yeah, just glad I have hand sanitizer in my purse. Be sure to take the time to wash off if you’re able.”
“I can only hope we’ll have time to clean up before we have to fight. If not, hopefully whoever attacks us is a germaphobe.”
We went on in silence. I listened for the sound of someone behind us. After all, the last time we’d used the pipe to get in, Ronald Yates had followed us. But I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, other than quiet sounds of cursing or someone being grossed out by whatever they’d just put their hands in.
Finally reached the fork. The old baseball mitt Jeff and Christopher had played with when they were little boys was still here. We’d taken the bat and ball, and used them, too, during Operation Fugly. Took the mitt. Couldn’t shove it into my purse, but I brushed it off, shook it out, and put it on my head.
“Seriously?” Jeff whispered.
“Yes. We might need it, you never know.”
“Only my girl. By the way, I can’t feel you now, so we must be within the range of the nearest emotional blocker.”
“That’s good, I guess. If you can’t feel us, neither can anyone inside.”
“Let’s hope. Be careful, baby, and never forget that I love you.”
“I love you, too, Jeff. Be safe.” I crawled to the left and caught up with Adriana. Heard Jeff go off to the right.
There was more light in here. At first I thought it was because I was closer to White, then remembered he was still about the same distance from me as before. Looked around and realized this part of the pipe was getting a little larger.
Neither Jeff nor Christopher had mentioned this. Would have liked to have confirmed if it was just that they hadn’t remembered or if it meant that this side wasn’t as forgotten as I was counting on.
However, the extra space was appreciated. There was less stagnant water on this side, or else the extra width of the pipe meant the water was more spread out and so dried up more quickly.
After what seemed like forever, I bumped up against Adriana. “We’re here,” she whispered. She also stood up, offered her hand, and helped me up.
We’d exited into a metal room. Plenty big enough for the four of us, with room to spare. It wasn’t huge, but after the pipe it felt incredibly spacious for a rectangle—Jeff and Chuckie would have been able to stand upright, but anyone taller would have to hunch over.
“It’s nice to stand up.”
“It is,” Adriana agreed. “But there seems to be a problem.”
Resisted the urge to say that of course there was, but it took effort. “What’s wrong?”
“Richard can’t open the hatch,” Gower said.
Gower was holding the flashlight, which meant I could see better now. He handed it to Adriana, then went to help White try to wrench the hatch open.
Not that I was some sort of expert, seeing as I didn’t spend my days in pipes or small metal rooms attached to pipes, but this metal seemed different than I remembered the metal on the other side being. There was more rust, for one thing. And there were handholds near the hatch. In fact, there were handholds all over this room.
There hadn’t been anything like that on the other side, either a room or handholds. Christopher had wrenched the grate off, but it had come off more easily than the grate had today. He’d said the metal was a special alloy, too. But this metal just looked like iron.
The hatch made a creaking sound. “Almost got it,” Gower said through gritted teeth.
I got a very bad feeling. Maybe it was instinct. My gut. Feminine intuition. It was more likely that I’d seen a lot of movies and TV shows and I was fully aware of the way our luck ran.
“Richard, Paul, make sure you’re holding tight onto one of those metal handles nearby. That’s an order. Adriana, you too,” I added as I made sure my purse was closed and securely over my neck, and followed my own advice. I put the mitt onto my free hand.
“What do you expect, Missus Martini?”
“I expect us to not like whatever happens when you get that hatch open.”
“What if nothing happens?” Gower asked.
“Then we can laugh at my overactive imagination. Adriana, try not to lose th
e flashlight.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Super. Then go for it, guys.”
White and Gower pulled, and, as they’d expected, the hatch finally opened.
And as I’d expected, we didn’t like what came out.
CHAPTER 31
WATER GUSHED FORTH. Prayed there was nothing “extra” in it, but I was a lot more focused on holding on.
The water’s force shoved the hatch fully open. This was great, only Gower was trapped behind the hatch now. And White’s grip on his handhold was slipping. We were in the process, as we so often were, of redefining the term “really bad.”
“Kitty, catch!” Adriana said, as she threw the flashlight at me.
Taking the mitt was proven to have been prescient. Adriana’s toss wasn’t accurate, but the mitt gave me just enough extra grabbing reach and power that I caught the flashlight. Barely, but I caught it. There were benefits to having been, as Jeff would have put it, a jock for all of high school and college.
Adriana caught White as he lost his grip. There were a few frightening moments when it wasn’t clear if she was going to hold on, or if they were both going to slip. If they did, they’d knock into me and take me with them back down the pipe.
If we fit, that is. But if we didn’t fit, we’d get knocked out. Heck, we could get knocked out whether we fit through the pipe or not. And if a body got knocked out and blocked the pipe, then the water in this metal room would fill up fast.
But White was able to grab a metal handhold. This jostled Adriana enough that she lost her grip. White hauled her back. They went back and forth with this for a little bit. It had the potential to be humorous. When we were out of here and dry. Maybe.
Meanwhile, I had a flashlight held precariously in a baseball mitt, Gower was trapped, and the water wasn’t slowing down.
The only saving grace was that we weren’t all on our hands and knees, trying to breathe the water. This was mitigated by the fact that there was a lot more water coming out than the pipe could send through all at once. Our heads were above the water line—for now. How long that lasted was going to be dependent upon how much water was going to come out of whatever we’d opened and how long it would take for the smaller pipe to send it all out into the wash. I didn’t need Chuckie here to tell me that things weren’t looking rosy.
White and Adriana finally both got a firm hold on separate handholds. They held onto each other still, just in case. Couldn’t blame them. Sort of wished I was near enough to Gower to be holding onto him and vice versa.
Of course, as I thought of it, I had no idea if Gower was drowning or not. The way I had the flashlight held, the light was pointing toward the ceiling near to where White and Adriana were. I could try to move the flashlight toward where I thought Gower was, but I was barely holding onto it as it was. Didn’t think I could manage moving it without losing my tenuous grip.
Went for the next best option. “Paul! Paul, can you hear me? Are you okay?”
“Sort of,” he called back. “I’m pinned. I can breathe, but I can’t move.”
“Pinned is better than drowned. Everyone just hang on. This can’t go on forever.” I hoped.
“Based on water flow, I believe we’ll be underwater soon,” Adriana said. She sounded fairly calm. Which was good. One of us should be.
There was nothing for it. We could hang around here and potentially drown, or one of us could try becoming a salmon and give swimming upstream the old college try.
If Jeff was with us, I’d have honestly suggested he be the one to try, because he had the Surcenthumain boost and was the strongest. Plus, based on when I went swimming in the Potomac during Operation Assassination, he could hold his breath for a long time.
I knew if I mentioned my plan White would suggest he be the one to try. He was awesome and all, but he was still Christopher’s dad. I didn’t want to have to tell Christopher I’d told his only remaining parent to swim into whatever the hell was on the other side of the hatch, especially if that sole remaining parent didn’t make it.
Gower was trapped, Adriana was a full human. That really left only me.
“Adriana, can you grab the flashlight?”
She reached out, White still holding her. “No. You have to toss it back to me.”
“Be ready.” The mitt was on my left hand, and I was right-handed. However, I couldn’t swim and take the flashlight with me. And if I mentioned what I was going to do, White would, for sure, leap off to go ahead of me.
Let this be like firing a gun from a moving vehicle. I focused on relaxing, on becoming one with the movements, choppy though they were. Then, once it felt like I wasn’t really moving, that it was Adriana who was bobbing back and forth, pinpointed where I wanted the flashlight to land and lobbed it over to her.
She caught it, which was definitely a big one for the win column. “Shine it slowly around the part of the room without water, and then at the hatch,” I told her.
Adriana obliged. There were plenty of handholds, but it was going to take me a while to get from one to another in order to get to the hatch. It was hard to be certain, but the water didn’t appear to be stopping, meaning I probably didn’t have the luxury of wall climbing over.
“Mister White, if I’m not back in about two minutes, then and only then can you or anyone else come after me. I’m saying this as the Head of Field and all that jazz. Top girl order sort of thing.”
“What are you doing, Kitty?” Gower asked.
“Something you won’t like that has a ton of risk but could save the day.”
“Ah. Routine.”
“You got it, Paul. Adriana, keep the light on the hatch, please and thank you.” With that, took a deep breath, held it, and shoved off against the wall, down and toward the hatch.
Track was great for improving lung capacity and my lifestyle ensured I somehow always ended up running with scary people sporting guns or worse chasing me. The strength I’d reverse inherited from Jamie came in just as handy, though—the water pressure wasn’t letting up and I needed to use a lot of effort.
Those regular Adjust To Being A Super workouts with Christopher were really paying off. Normally I had to be enraged in order to really get the A-C skills going. I wasn’t enraged right now, and scared really didn’t do the trick for me. But I’d worked on my abilities enough that I could bring forth the hyperspeed and use it for swimming. Or as I was thinking of it, running in the water.
Managed to get down and grabbed the lip of the hatch’s opening. I’d kept the glove on, and it was working like a really big water wing. My purse was a hindrance, but there was no way in hell I was going to let it wash away. Some of its contents might be salvageable and for all I knew Jeff would need his adrenaline somewhere along the way.
Once through the hatch, the real issue was if I could find the top, or an air pocket, before my lungs exploded. Kicked up hard, keeping the mitt above my head, just in case I hit something. I had to keep on kicking to go up—the water wanted to suck me right back down and through the hatch.
The will to live is strong. The will to ensure that I had a sliver of a prayer that my iPod was still going to work was stronger. Flutter kicked like I was in the Olympic Trials and was rewarded with seeing what looked like light above me. Far above me, but above me nonetheless. So either that was where the air was, or the golden light was calling me to Heaven. Figured it was air, and kicked harder still.
Had to let the air out of my lungs slowly in order to make it, but managed to surface just before I had to take a breath or die. After some serious gasping for a couple of seconds, realized I was in a big tank. The water had been clear, so was hopeful I was in the clean water tank.
I also wasn’t alone. There was someone at the edge of the tank, standing on a metal platform, looking at me.
“A little help?”
He shrugged.
“I have three friends who are probably drowning or about to in that little metal room down below.”
&nb
sp; “Shouldn’t have come in the back way, should you?”
Several things were registering. He was good looking, but not A-C gorgeous, with an unruly mop of brown, wavy hair and a scruffy goatee that looked good on him. Green eyes, but not green like Mahin’s or Christopher’s. Green like a cartoon character’s. He had a devilish expression, but in the cute guy way, not in the red lobster suit with horns way.
He was also extremely short but his torso and head looked perfectly normal, meaning he was most likely a dwarf. And he had an accent. As with Mahin’s it was familiar, though nothing like hers, but I couldn’t place it.
“Look, charge us with breaking and entering later. I need to ensure that the current and former Pontifexes and one of our friends all don’t drown to death. I’m the current Head of Field, and I’m giving the official ‘save our butts’ order.”
He smiled. “Oh, I know who you are. You’re the one who likes to ask for twenty different obscure types of soda pop while you’re in a jet at thirty thousand feet. But not to worry. Can’t have you losing both the current and former Pontifex on my watch.” With that he snapped his fingers.
White, Gower, and Adriana appeared on the platform next to him, gasping.
I said the only thing that came to mind. “Who the hell are you?”
CHAPTER 32
“MY NAME IS UNPRONOUNCEABLE to any of your races,” he nodded toward White and Gower, “but you can call me Algar.”
I swam to the edge of the tank. “You’re not an A-C or from their solar system? And you’re not a human?”
He reached a hand down. “You’re asking or telling?”
“Asking.” I put out my hand and he grabbed it above the wrist.
“No.” He pulled me up. Easily. More easily than Jeff could have. Set me down gently as well. “Interesting choice with the baseball mitt.” He smiled again. “But that’s why I like you. You always make interesting choices.”
Gini Koch - [Katherine Katt 08] Page 17