Dimensions (The Young Neos Book 4)

by Lucas Flint

  Panic was starting to set in, but Treehugger did her best to ignore it. She looked back at the stage and saw that Strike finally realized that his words were inaudible, because he had stopped speaking and was instead just looking out over the crowd with confusion, as if hoping that someone might explain what was going on. Despite the fear and uncertainty, Treehugger couldn’t help but find Strike extremely cute even when he looked lost and confused.

  That was when Treehugger noticed Bolt walking up to Strike. There was something strange about the way he walked, though; he didn’t move very naturally. He looked almost like a human robot attempting to mimic human behavior, failing only because of some missing component that was hard to describe.

  He must be going to help Strike, Treehugger thought, relaxing a little bit. Yeah, that’s it. He and Strike are friends and he’s probably just going to keep him calm until we figure out what’s going on.

  But then Bolt stopped behind Strike, who must have somehow sensed Bolt approach him, because he turned around to look at him. Based on the hand gestures Strike made, it was obvious that he was trying to ask Bolt what had happened.

  Then Bolt’s eyes opened. For a split second, Treehugger thought she saw that they were purple, rather than their normal blue.

  Then Bolt slammed a hand on Strike’s chest and sent a powerful burst of electricity through his arm directly into Strike’s heart.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Even without sound, the scene of Strike being electrocuted was terrible to behold. No screams issued from his mouth; well, at least none that Treehugger could hear. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the horrid sight of Bolt silently electrocuting Strike to death. She wondered if this was just some kind of strange, horrific nightmare she was experiencing, but when she pinched herself and felt a small prick of pain, she realized that this was entirely—horrifically—real.

  A second later, however, the scene had changed. Bolt now lay on the floor, apparently unconscious, while Strike, whose costume and hair were now smoking, was in the arms of Arnold Johanson, who gently lowered him onto the floor in a comfortable position. It took Treehugger a second to realize that Arnold had used his time powers to save Strike; at least, she hoped he did, because Strike now looked too still for comfort.

  In the next instant, sound suddenly returned like a swelling wave. Every sound assaulted Treehugger’s ears at once. Screams of terror and confusion from the crowd below rushed up toward the ceiling like a bomb going off; the sounds of people trying to escape the auditorium before they ended up the next victims of Bolt was like a roaring waterfall crashing into sharp ocean rocks. Even the sounds of swinging jewelry and coins clinking against smartphones inside peoples’ pockets was deafening.

  The result of so much sound hitting Treehugger’s ears at once was equivalent to being punched in the face by a bodybuilder. She fell out of her chair and onto the floor of the box, covering both of her now-aching ears with her hands, although how much help that would be in keeping her hearing, she had no idea. She looked up and noticed that Blizzard and White were also covering their ears; unlike her, they had not fallen out of their chairs, but they still looked like they were in great pain nonetheless. Beyond them, Stinger had slumped backwards in his chair, clearly knocked unconscious from the sudden return of the sound, while Talon was rubbing her head like she was suffering from a huge headache. Shell’s glasses were even cracked, although given how he was doubled over in his chair with both of his hands on his head, that was clearly the least of his problems.

  Despite the fact that her ears were ringing like doorbells, Treehugger pulled herself up onto her knees and looked over the edge of the box to the other boxes. She was startled to see that nearly the entire leadership of both the NHA and INJ were either knocked out cold or doubled over in pain like Shell, though the Midnight Menace was curiously missing from the INJ box. Strike’s New Heroes were in even worse shape than the Young Neos; it looked like they were all knocked out cold, though none of them were dead as far as she could tell.

  Treehugger looked over to the government’s box. To her surprise, Porter and the G-Men were gone. She had no idea where they could have gone; maybe the G-Men had evacuated Porter just in case Bolt tried to attack him next.

  In any case, pandemonium rained in the audience below. People were screaming and shouting, the security guards were vainly attempting to enforce some semblance of order onto the crowd, and all of the noise made it nearly impossible to think clearly or figure out what to do next. She could see Arnold shouting for order and for people to calm down, but it was obvious by now that the flight or fight response had kicked in for most of the people and the vast majority of them were trying to fly.

  Abruptly, Vice-President Porter walked out onto the stage, with Mr. Apollo and Blood Boil following not too far behind. Porter looked as grim and serious as before; indeed, he didn’t look even remotely affected by the atmosphere of fear and panic that gripped the entire auditorium. He walked past the startled Arnold and stood in front of the main podium. He stood there for a second, looking over the rioting crowd with a look of sheer calmness, before leaning in to the microphone and saying, in a deep, authoritative voice, “Everyone, calm down. Now.”

  It was like someone had flipped a switch. Porter’s deep voice boomed from the speakers, causing it to reverberate throughout the whole auditorium. Before Treehugger’s startled eyes, people started calming down. It was still a few more minutes before the people stopped screaming and rampaging, but it was not very long before the chaos and fear of the auditorium was replaced instead by a lingering uncertainty. Everyone looked at Porter, whose steely expression made even Treehugger feel calmer, despite her ringing ears.

  “Thank you,” said Porter. He nodded at Arnold. “You may speak to them now.”

  Porter stepped aside. Arnold—who looked less mystified by Porter’s apparent ability to calm everyone down with four words than everyone else—stood up and walked up to the microphone. He said, in a slightly ragged voice, “Please forgive us for this interruption. While we attempt to find out what just happened, I must ask that every member of the audience who is not associated with the NHA, INJ, or G-Men please leave the auditorium and return to your rooms in the dormitories until we determine it is safe for you to leave. Please leave the auditorium in an orderly line and listen to any orders that the security guards may give you. Thank you.”

  To Treehugger’s surprise, the audience did exactly that. They turned and began walking out of the auditorium as though they practiced this kind of emergency escape every day. The security guards—who, even from a distance, looked relieved at how Porter and Arnold had calmed the crowd—immediately began organizing lines to the exits, guiding frightened and confused audience members out the doors as quickly and orderly as they could.

  Treehugger looked over her shoulder at her friends. “What was that?”

  Blizzard, who was clutching her head with both hands, shook her head. “Do you mean the sound, Bolt nearly killing Strike, or Porter?”

  “All three,” said White in a slightly exhausted voice. He was not clutching his head, but he was slumped in his chair, looking like he had just run a marathon. “Confused.”

  “I need to go down there,” said Treehugger, slowly rising to her feet. “Need to see Bolt. And Strike. And find out what happened.”

  “We’ll go with you,” said Blizzard. She tried to stand up, but winced and sat back down, clutching her head again. “Ouch.”

  “No, you guys stay here,” said Treehugger, gesturing at her teammates. “You all seem to have taken the brunt of the sound blast—or whatever it was—worse than me. Just stay here and try to rest. I’ll see if I can get some medical help. Try to wake Stinger while I’m gone and make sure he’s okay.”

  Treehugger made her way to the back of the box and opened the door. She stepped out into the hallway, but before she could go anywhere, she heard clanking footsteps and looked to her left to see Mecha Knight walking toward her. He looked no
worse the wear despite the sound explosion; he wasn’t even limping.

  “Ah, Treehugger, there you are,” said Mecha Knight in his usual monotone voice, which seemed awfully loud to Treehugger’s ringing ears, even though he wasn’t screaming. “I was going to check on you and the other Young Neos.”

  “We’re fine,” said Treehugger. She rubbed her ears. “I mean, none of us are dead, but I think we’re all going to have hearing problems for the rest of our lives. What about you? Can you still hear?”

  “Yes,” said Mecha Knight, nodding. “My auditory sens—er, I mean, my ears, were mostly protected from the sound blast thanks to my helmet’s protective features. The other Leadership Council members, unfortunately, were not so lucky, although I think they will all regain their ability to hear soon enough.”

  “Good to know,” said Treehugger. “I was thinking of some kind of herb that might be able to help ringing ears and—wait, what am I saying? I need to go down to the stage and check on Bolt.”

  “I believe you should stay here, Treehugger,” Mecha Knight said. “While it looks like Bolt is no longer a threat, I would rather not put you or any of the other Young Neos in needless danger, especially since we still don’t know for sure what happened.”

  “But Bolt is my friend,” said Treehugger. “And I also want to check on Strike. I might be able to heal him with my … uh, herbs.”

  That wasn’t exactly why she wanted to see Strike, of course, but she didn’t want to let Mecha Knight know about her crush. He probably wouldn’t consider it a very good reason to put herself in such a dangerous situation.

  Thankfully, Mecha Knight seemed to buy it, because he nodded and said, “All right. We’ll go down together. I need to speak with Arnold and Porter about what happened.”

  Mecha Knight walked past Treehugger and Treehugger immediately joined him. Mecha Knight was about a foot taller than her and his strides were longer, but Treehugger managed to keep up with him anyway, although she kept rubbing her aching ears as she followed him.

  “Do you have any theories about what happened?” said Treehugger, looking up at Mecha Knight as they made their way down the stairs that seemed to lead from the boxes to the stage. “You don’t seem very surprised by what happened.”

  “I am surprised,” said Mecha Knight, although his voice had no indication of his surprise, of course. “But at the same time, I was aware something like this might happen. And I think I may know who is behind it, but I don’t want to say just yet until we learn the facts.”

  “Why?” said Treehugger in surprise. “And who do you think is behind this?”

  “Because bad things always happen whenever the NHA and INJ get together to do something,” said Mecha Knight, his metal boots clanking against the stone steps of the stairs. “During the Summit earlier this year, we were nearly tricked into fighting a war against each other by Maria Candle; and then later on, when we unveiled the Justice Statue at Hero Island only for us to be attacked by the Pokacu. I would have been surprised if the opening ceremony didn’t get derailed by some freak event that no one could have seen coming.”

  “But you think you know who did this,” said Treehugger.

  “As I said, I don’t want to say who I suspect just yet until we get more facts,” said Mecha Knight. “Arnold and Vice-President Porter will be able to supply us with more information, especially since I already shared my security concerns with both of them prior to the opening of the event.”

  “Is that why Porter was here?” said Treehugger. “Did you think you’d need his help if something like this happened?”

  “Both the Neohero Alliance and the Independent Neoheroes for Justice are completely capable of handling this sort of problem without government aid or oversight,” said Mecha Knight. “Still, I must admit that I did appreciate Porter’s presence. Unlike most politicians, Porter doesn’t freeze up when he finds himself in dangerous situations. That probably came from his time in the military; regardless, Porter is the one politician I trust, even though I voted third party in the last election.”

  “How did he do that?” said Treehugger as they turned a corner down more steps. She had stopped rubbing her ears by now, since they had stopped ringing a few seconds ago. “He just … walked up to the microphone and told everyone to calm down and everyone listened to him. Is he a superhuman? Does he have the power to make everyone calm down just by listening to his voice?”

  Mecha Knight actually chuckled at that, which kind of scared Treehugger, because she had never heard Mecha Knight chuckle at anything before. “No, Porter is just a normal human. Well, as normal as someone with his skills can be, anyway. He has the brain of an ordinary human, at least, though I still would not want to fight him.”

  Treehugger would have thought that Mecha Knight was joking if she hadn’t known him as well as she did. The idea that Mecha Knight, who wore a suit of powered armor that could shoot lasers and had a sword, didn’t want to fight an ordinary human man who had no special powers of his own seemed ludicrous. It made her rethink her earlier dismissal of the dream hypothesis; sure, when she pinched herself she felt pain, but what if her dream was just extremely realistic?

  By the time Treehugger and Mecha Knight reached the stage, nearly the entire audience was gone. Most of the security guards had moved onto the stage now, standing around Bolt’s unconscious body, cuffing his arms and legs together to keep him from running when he awoke. A couple of the security guards were moving Strike off the stage on a stretcher. Treehugger couldn’t see Strike’s face due to the fact that he was lying in such an awkward position, but it was painful to see him looking almost dead.

  Arnold and Porter were off to one side, both quietly speaking to one another. Mr. Apollo and Blood Boil were nowhere to be seen, but Treehugger figured they were likely searching the auditorium for any other possible dangers to the Vice-President’s life.

  “Greetings, Arnold, Vice-President,” said Mecha Knight as he and Treehugger approached. “I am glad to see that you are both safe.”

  “Oh, hello, Jack,” said Arnold, smiling at Mecha Knight, although he looked rather tired as if he had not gotten much sleep last night. “I didn’t know if you were one of the people who got knocked out by that sonic blast or not.”

  “My helmet protected my hearing,” Mecha Knight replied. “We’re lucky that you stepped in and stopped Bolt before he could kill Strike or do anything else.”

  “Yes, but it was not as easy as it looks,” said Arnold, scratching the back of his neck. “My powers require a lot more energy than most and my body isn’t quite as young as it used to be. I don’t think I will be able to use it again for at least a day.”

  “You deserve to rest, given how hard you have been working at getting the school up and running,” said Mecha Knight.

  “Yes, but all of that work may be for naught now,” said Arnold. He looked out over the empty auditorium with a grim expression. “I can’t imagine that many of the parents will want their kids to come here after that disaster.”

  “But why did it happen?” said Treehugger. She knew that she should have waited her turn to speak, but she was so scared and confused that she didn’t want to wait. “Why did Bolt try to kill Strike? They’re friends. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Arnold looked at Treehugger quizzically before looking at Mecha Knight. “Who is this?”

  “Treehugger,” said Mecha Knight. “One of the Young Neos. She joined after your retirement.”

  “Treehugger?” Arnold repeated. He looked at Treehugger with realization dawning on his features. “I think I’ve heard about you before. Bolt mentioned you and the others when he and his brother were helping put the finishing touches on the school. He said you could control plants.”

  “Yeah, I can,” said Treehugger. “That’s why I’m called—”

  “Arnold, Jack,” said Porter. His tone was not angry; however, Treehugger could sense that he was losing his patience with what he obviously thought was a pointless tangent, s
o Treehugger shut her mouth. “I noticed something about Bolt before he attacked Strike.”

  “Really?” said Mecha Knight. “What was it?”

  “The young man was acting very strangely before he attacked Strike,” said Porter. “I saw him look around when everything went silent. At first, I thought it was because he was confused like the rest of us, but I think it was more likely that he was starting to fall under the effects of whatever caused him to attack Strike.”

  “Did you see anyone near him?” Mecha Knight questioned.

  “No,” Porter replied. “But Mr. Apollo and Blood Boil are currently searching the backstage for any hints of who might have done that to him.”

  “You mean he didn’t do it of his own free will?” said Treehugger hopefully. “Someone forced him to do it?”

  “Obviously,” said Porter. “I don’t know Bolt very well, but I do know, based on what President Plutarch has told me about him, that he is not the kind of person to suddenly snap and try to kill a friend like that, at least not of his own free will. The only question is, who could have done it to him?”

  Treehugger bit her lower lip and looked at Bolt. He was still unconscious on the floor, but upon looking at him, Treehugger suddenly remembered something important.

  She looked up at Mecha Knight. “Sir, I remember seeing something strange about Bolt as well. His eyes were a weird, purplish color, which I thought was just some trick of the lights at first, but now I think it might have been a sign that he wasn’t under control of his own body.”

  Mecha Knight, Arnold, and Porter all exchanged significant looks when Treehugger mentioned that. That meant that the clue she had noticed must have been extremely important, although a part of her was apprehensive, because none of them looked very happy about it.