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Nightmare in Angel City

Page 7

by Franklin W. Dixon


  No one here but us, Callie," Patch called menacingly as he entered the square. Callie hurled herself through the entrance to the town · hall and slammed the door behind her.

  The ground slid out from under her, and she dropped six feet to a rough landing in the dirt. As she sat up and brushed herself off, she looked up to see that the building was only a false front. It looked solid and real, but in reality it was as false as her hopes of safety were.

  "Could have told you, Callie," Patch said as he rounded the far end of the line of buildings. "I've been in Meteor Town lots of times. I know where everything is." He laughed, and the sound rang brutally in Callie's ears. She cupped her hands over them to blot it out, and ran.

  The tracks led to a waterfall and disappeared into it. Dead end, Callie thought. She looked back to see Patch closing in on her. She was trapped.

  Then she remembered the wall of rock the train had gone through on the tour. If that was an illusion, what was the waterfall? Crossing her fingers, she plunged forward.

  The icy water struck her, and she let out a yell of astonishment. Water poured down from sprinkler pipes over the entrance. The waterfall was real enough, another trick to surprise the tourists with. She slogged out of the water and into the darkness of a tunnel that backed up to the falls. The tracks were almost invisible in the gloom. She tapped them with her foot as she stumbled along. The tracks curved to the left. Callie followed them.

  She froze.

  Ahead, from a hole in the ceiling, light poured in. The ceiling had collapsed, and rubble, piled from floor to ceiling, covered the tracks and blocked the tunnel. Desperately, Callie dug into the pile, but it was too big. She wouldn't be able to dig a way through before Patch caught up with her, and he barred the way back.

  This time, she knew, she was trapped.

  ***

  "I can't believe Callie would have left this behind," said Joe, holding up the videocassette.

  "Not unless she was really in trouble," Frank replied. They hurried to a food stand on the other side of the small lawn. A pretty brunette stood behind the counter. She smiled cheerfully at the Hardys as they approached.

  "Good afternoon. Welcome to Meteor Town. What may I get you?" she asked.

  "I'll have a hot dog," Joe said.

  "Joe!" Frank scowled.

  "Well, I'm hungry," Joe said. He turned to the woman, who was putting a hot dog in a bun. "Did you see a young woman come through here recently? About your size and height?"

  The girl handed Joe the hot dog and shook her head. "No." She pointed to metal jars on a nearby table. "Catsup, mustard, and relish are over there."

  "She might have been with a man wearing a black ninja suit and an eyepatch," Frank added. "Him I remember. He came tearing through here a few minutes ago. But he was by himself. It was very strange." She flicked a thumb toward a path leading away from the green toward a hilly area. "He went that way." "Thanks," Frank said.

  "You're welcome," the girl called as they headed for the path. "Have a nice day."

  They moved warily along the path, Joe eating the hot dog while they trotted. He studied the area. "This opens up in every direction," he said, noting the various sets built in every corner of the valley. "How are we supposed to know where Callie went?"

  Frank spied a workman. "Maybe he saw something."

  At Frank's questions, the workman bristled. "Nobody's supposed to be here unless they're authorized. Let me see your passes."

  "This is an emergency," Frank insisted, and gave the workman Callie's description. "Yeah, she and some fella with an eyepatch jumped the gate." The workman glared at the sign. " Can't anyone read anymore ? "

  "I thought everyone in Meteor Town was cheery," Joe said through his last mouthful of hot dog.

  "I don't get paid to deal with the public," the workman snarled.

  "Never mind," Frank told Joe. He grabbed his elbow and pulled him toward the gate. "We've got to find Callie."

  "Stay out of there!" Undaunted, the Hardys hurdled the gate and sprinted through the field on the other side. "You're in trouble now!" the workman shouted. He turned and stormed off.

  ***

  "End of the line," Patch taunted. Callie whirled on the mountain of rubble as Patch continued to stalk her, flexing his fingers in a strangling motion. The light from the ceiling reflected a nasty glint in his eye. "It's why they closed this part of the studio. No way out."

  There's one way, thought Callie, raising her eyes to the hole in the ceiling. She began climbing up the rubble.

  It shifted under her weight, and she slipped back down a few feet. Laughing, Patch grabbed at her. In seconds she had pulled herself to the top of the heap.

  Patch began the climb after her. Callie reached up to the hole in the ceiling, but her fingertips only brushed it.

  She crouched low and sprang. Her hands clamped around the edge of the opening, and she held firm and pulled herself up to freedom.

  Patch was only a few feet behind her, his arms easily long enough to reach the hole from the top of the pile. Callie spun around, looking for somewhere to hide. She spied a building not too far off and she bolted for it.

  Callie slammed the door behind her after she entered the building—that was a mistake. It was pitch-dark inside, and Callie could see nothing. She began feeling her way back to the door, when it opened. Patch stepped in and switched on the lights. An alien spaceship appeared to her left, men in armor sitting at the control panels, others were standing guard, futuristic weapons drawn. Robots, she realized. At the far end was an exit, and she ran for it. Locked.

  "Just you and me," Patch muttered in her ear as he pulled her back by her hair. "Callie, we have to have a little talk about a tape." His hand tightened around her throat.

  "Let her go!" ordered a male voice from the far door.

  "Frank!" Callie cried thankfully as Frank and ' Joe ran toward them.

  Patch laughed viciously, and held Callie for them to see. "Can't stop me," he said. "Looks like I'll have to forget the talk, Callie. This is the end. Sorry, boys, you're too far away to stop me."

  "He's right," Joe whispered to Frank. "If we try to rush him — "

  Frank eyed the control panels. "Hit every switch you can, Joe! Do it!"

  Joe vaulted to one panel and slapped switches on, and Frank did the same. Across the set, robots came to life, their ray guns firing.

  "Just lights." Patch laughed. Then a beam hit the wall next to him. The wall burst, showering Patch and Callie with dust and iron filings. Patch screamed in terror, shoved Callie aside, and leapt to a ladder that led to catwalks above the set.

  Frank ran to help Callie. "Did he hurt you?"

  Callie smiled gratefully. "He was working up to it. Thanks."

  Joe joined them. "You sure took a chance, Frank. What if one of those lasers had hit Callie?"

  "They weren't lasers," Frank said. "Why would they be? This place is just tricks, remember? I bet some explosive in the wall was set off when the light touched it. Neither of them were in real danger."

  Joe looked up at the catwalks. "We've got Patch cornered in here. Let's get him."

  Frank nodded and started for the catwalk.

  "Hold it!" a new voice shouted. The workman appeared at the door, joined by two security guards, and a tall, good-looking man in an expensive-looking business suit. "That's them."

  Despite Callie and the Hardys' protests, the security guards collected them and shoved them back to the door. "We'll throw them off the lot."

  "No," said the well-dressed man. He studied them coolly for a moment. Frank and Joe exchanged glances. Who was he?

  "Take them to my office," the man said. "And keep them there."

  "Yes, sir," the security guard replied. He took Joe roughly by the arm. "Whatever you say— Mr. Bates."

  Chapter 14

  THE OFFICE WAS enormous, decorated all in leather and mahogany. At one end was a large desk. A painting of Stuart Bates hung on the wall behind it. Two black leather cou
ches faced the desk. Frank and Callie were shoved onto one couch and Joe on the other.

  "Sit there and don't touch anything," said one of the guards. They left the brothers and Callie alone.

  The office door clicked shut. Instantly, Frank and Joe were on their feet. Joe pressed at the edges of the window, which overlooked all of Meteoric Studios. "No openings here, and we're twelve stories up in any case," he said. "Any luck there?"

  Frank wiggled the doorknob. "Locked." He walked around the room, tapping at the wood paneling on the walls, while Joe slid the painting to one side. "No secret passages in the wall."

  "No safe," Joe replied. He let the painting slip back into place. "Anything he's got here must be in his desk."

  "What's with you guys?" Callie said. "So we get scolded for trespassing. It's no big deal."

  Frank rolled his eyes. "We never told her." He fished the photograph from his pocket. "See that painting on the wall?"

  Callie studied it. "Sure."

  "Recognize him?" he asked, and handed her the photograph.

  Callie paled. "You mean Stuart Bates is — ?"

  "Looks that way. Whatever you do when he gets here, don't let on that we know," said Joe, who pried uselessly at a desk drawer. "Frank, you still have your credit card?"

  Frank handed it to Joe, who bent over and slipped it between a drawer and the desk frame. He wiggled the card until there was a loud click, and the center drawer popped open. With a look of triumph Joe passed the card back.

  "Nothing," Joe said as he rifled the desk. The triumphant look faded. "Paper clips, a pen, blank paper." He found a manila file, took it out, and flipped through it. "Company financial records. Nothing out of the ordinary. From his desk you'd think this guy was squeaky clean."

  He returned the file and shut the drawer. Keys, jingled on the other side of the door. Frank and Joe dove for the couches, and when Stuart Bates came in, they were waiting meekly in their seats.

  "We try to run a safe tour here," Bates said in a flat voice as he sat behind his desk. "We can't have people running off on their own no matter how much fun it looks like." He gazed at them impersonally, and for all Frank or Joe could tell, Bates had never seen them before in his life. He had the relaxed, suntanned appearance of a typical Hollywood executive. "I am as much in favor of young people having a good time as anyone else," he said, "but there is simply no excuse for what you did. None."

  "You're right," Frank began apologetically.

  "Don't blame them," Callie interrupted. "They were saving me."

  "From what?" Still the casual but fiat, distant tone.

  "I was being threatened by a man wearing an eyepatch," Callie said, watching Bates's face. He sat back and gazed at her, almost blank-faced. "He wanted to kill me."

  There was still no reaction from Bates. "I hope you're not making this up," he said. Then he shrugged. "I'll tell my men to watch out for such a man." His phone rang. Bates pardoned himself and answered it.

  "What'd you say that for?" Frank whispered to Callie. "Did you see his face?" she whispered back. ; "He didn't know what I was talking about. He never heard of Patch." Frank frowned. "Or he's a good actor." Bates hung up the phone and stood up. "I have an appointment. You'll have to leave the lot immediately, and please don't come back." He opened the office door and signaled Callie and the Hardys out. In the outer office Bates told his ' secretary, "Call security and have them escorted off the lot." He went back into his office and closed the door. [ Frank looked down at the secretary's desk as he passed it. "Distract her for a second," he quietly told Callie.

  "Excuse me," Callie asked the secretary,' 'but is there a — " She paused to glance at Frank and Joe in embarrassment, then leaned close to the secretary and said in hushed tones, "Could we go into the corner? I hate talking about this in front of boys."

  The secretary stared at Callie in silence, then abruptly stood and walked to the corner. As her back turned, Frank reached down and slipped a small card and envelope off the desk and into his pocket. In the corner Callie giggled nervously. The secretary flashed her an impatient frown, then marched back to her desk, drew a key from a drawer, and handed it to Callie.

  Callie vanished out the office door and returned just in time to meet the security guards, who ushered the three of them to the front gate of the studios. They waited in silence for a bus.

  On the bus Callie said, "What was all that about?"

  Frank produced the card and read it aloud. " 'You and a guest are invited to a party at the home of Mr. Stuart Bates.'"

  "We're going to a party?" Joe said. "Great."

  "Callie and I are going," Frank replied. "At least through the front door. You can get in any way you can."

  "Frank, we can't go there," said Callie. "He'll recognize us."

  "He'll have to see us first. We'll just stay out of his way," Frank explained. "I've got a hunch his house can tell us a lot if we push a little. Joe, do you still have the videotape?"

  Joe pulled the cassette from under his shirt and handed it to Frank.

  "We're probably barking up the wrong tree," Callie said. "I don't think Bates knew anything. He certainly didn't act guilty."

  "Don't forget," said Joe, "nothing's what it looks like in that place. It's all smoke and illusion. Why should Bates be any different?"

  "Besides," Frank said, "if Bates doesn't have any interest in us, what's that man doing here?"

  , He jerked his head toward a man sitting across the aisle and several rows back. The man was short and blond, in his forties, reading a newspaper. He paid no attention to the Hardys. Callie stole a furtive glance. "I've never seen him before."

  "He came out of the studio about the time we got on the bus," Frank said. "He rushed on at the last moment. I think Bates is having him follow us. That's why the security guards took so long to get to the office, to give this guy time to get after us."

  "You could be wrong," Joe said. "He looks harmless enough."

  "There's an easy way to find out," Frank said. He stood up, and Joe and Callie stood up with him. Together they moved to the front door of the bus. The short man folded his paper and casually moved to the back door. The bus stopped and the doors opened. Callie and the Hardys got off in front, and the man got off in back, but at the last moment, Frank, Joe, and Callie climbed back on. The bus pulled away, leaving the short man at the stop, angrily throwing his paper on the ground.

  "That answers that question," Frank said as he sat down again. To Callie he said, "Can you 'duplicate tapes at UCLA?"

  "Sure."

  "Then that's where we're going," he said, smiling. "It's time to bait a trap for Mr. Stuart Bates."

  ***

  "Is that all?" asked a young man as he handed Frank two tapes.

  "That's it," Callie replied. "Thanks for the duplicating, Dennis. Let me know if I can ever do you a favor."

  "Get a bad mark once in a while so we can bring down the class curve," Dennis joked. Laughing at his own words, he walked out, leaving Callie and the Hardys standing alone in the empty lab.

  "Yes, this will just about do it," Frank said cheerfully, handing one of the tapes to Callie. She put it in her purse and they walked into the mostly deserted hall. It was dinnertime, and many of the students had gone to eat.

  "I could use some supper myself," Joe said, his stomach rumbling. "Then you can tell us all about this great plan of yours." Frank and Joe pushed through a pair of swinging glass doors that led outside.

  "No more plans, kids. The game's over," snarled a rough voice behind them as the doors swung shut. Startled, the Hardys spun and slammed into the doors, but it was too late.

  Inside, Patch had already locked the door. Joe and Frank looked back through the glass. In one arm Patch held Callie, his elbow tightly wrapped around her neck. His other hand pressed firmly against her jaw.

  "Tape," he yelled through the glass doors, his eyes on the videocassette in Frank's hand. "Trade. The tape, or I break her neck."

  "Don't do it, Fra
nk," Callie shouted.

  He sharply jerked her head to one side, and Callie screamed as Frank and Joe flinched, expecting to hear the bones in her neck start to crack.

  Chapter 15

  "STOP!" FRANK SHOUTED through the door. "We'll do whatever you say."

  Patch grinned and loosened his grip on Callie, then reached out and flipped the bolt on the doors. "Get in here," he ordered.

  Frank and Joe cautiously stepped back into the hall. They looked around. Unfortunately, no one was in sight. "Here's the tape," Frank said, the cassette in his hand. "Let her go."

  "Not yet," said Patch. He flagged them back into the lab and to a metal door at the rear of the lab. "Over there." Keeping a tight grip on Callie, he dragged her to the door as the Hardys followed.

  "Inside," he said.

  Joe opened the door and peered in. The room was filled with shelves, and on each shelf were dozens of round, flat metal boxes. A puff of cool air washed over him. "It's cold in there," he protested.

  "In!" Patch demanded, and Joe entered. Frank stepped onto the threshold.

  "You promised you wouldn't hurt her."

  "Shut up," said Patch. Suddenly his hand snaked out, snatched the cassette from Frank, and shoved Callie into him, knocking them both into the room.

  The door slammed shut. Frank and Joe rammed into it, but it wouldn't open.

  "What is this place?" Joe wondered aloud.

  "The film vault," Callie said. "It's an ongoing project of the school. They track down prints of rare films, restore them, and then make new prints and transfer them to video."

  "I remember reading about this stuff," Frank said. He opened a box. Inside was a reel of browning film. "Old film is highly unstable. Something to do with the nitrates in it. Callie, when you say vault, exactly what do you mean?"

  "I mean vault. Like in a bank. We're locked in here until someone opens it from outside."

 

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