Luis started to answer, but the genius wasn’t really listening. He had more to explain.
“A lot of these old systems were set up before there was even an Internet,” the genius said. “There was no thought that somebody could be trying to hack them because there was no way in, no network. But in today’s world, where everything’s connected, it didn’t take a lot of smarts to hack into the system. Communications between the server and the PLC weren’t encrypted, so the hacker could see the sent commands, copy them, then substitute his own.”
The genius took a breath before returning his headphones to his ears. “Back to it,” he said.
Luis had always been impressed by the genius. Now he was in awe. All that reading lines of code, all that hard thinking to decipher what it meant—he wondered if he would ever have that much patience for anything.
On the other hand, wasn’t he—Luis—demonstrating awesome patience right now? All this waiting was killer, especially with his tailbone in its current state, especially without a phone.
When another half hour passed, Luis began to worry that—awesome as he was—the genius would never find the problem. If he couldn’t, would there be weeks without power? Would everyone clear out and abandon their houses? What about school?
Maybe he, Luis, would have to go live in Wilmington with Tío Pepe, start school in a new place. Maybe Hampton really would become a ghost town. Maybe a new civilization would rise. Had that been the bad guy’s plan all along?
Had Luis read too many comic books?
Who was the bad guy, and what did he want? Luis was so engrossed by his thoughts that it took him a moment to notice when something made a noise downstairs. Wait . . . what? Had someone tripped? Someone large?
Who could it be but the hunter?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Luis could have kicked himself for his stupidity. The genius had lit the room with lanterns and flashlights—light easily visible from the street. As if that weren’t enough, Luis’s bike was locked out front.
We should have just put up a sign, Luis thought. Hunter: We’re here!
With his headphones on, Computer Genius hadn’t heard the thumps. He was still the model of concentration. Luis opened his mouth to tell him, then didn’t. This is my job, he thought. Protect the genius; let him finish his work.
Luis rose from the floor, moved quietly to the bedroom doorway, and peeked out, careful to remain hidden. Once, when the house was lived in, there would have been a railing around the stairwell. That was gone now, and all that remained was the opening, a hole, a sheer drop to the stairs and the ground floor below.
The hunter knows we’re up here, Luis thought, staring into the darkness. He’s going to come up and get us.
Luis thought of Tony, who had gotten in the hunter’s way and been knocked out for his trouble. The hunter must have assumed that Tony was Luis, then realized that he wasn’t, that the real Luis was running out the back door. I’m what he wants, but why? And why is he hanging around down there? Why not come up and face me?
It wasn’t long before Luis got his answer. Only he didn’t see it as an answer at first. Instead, it was one additional bad smell among all the others. The next clue was a faint glow that brightened till it cast dancing shadows on the wall ahead of him. The glow didn’t come from Computer Genius’s room. It seemed to come from somewhere on the ground floor.
Does he have a lantern? Luis thought. He didn’t have one before.
Finally, there was a noise—a crackle, and along with it still more shadows, shadows that momentarily became wisps of smoke.
“Got it!” Computer Genius hollered, triumphant.
“Fire!” Luis spun around to face him. “There’s a fire downstairs. Get up—we gotta go!”
Computer Genius didn’t understand at first. With a big grin on his face, he pulled off his headphones and started to explain exactly what he’d done. But Luis wasn’t listening. He rushed over, manhandled the genius to his feet, and shoved him toward the window. Already the floorboards were warm.
“Hold on to your laptop,” Luis said. “Everything else we leave.”
Computer Genius started to argue, but he must have smelled the smoke. His face turned first blank, then terrified. “What do we—,” he started to ask.
Honestly, Luis didn’t know. We’re toast, he thought, only for once it wasn’t funny. Go downstairs, they’d go into an oven. But soon the floor they stood on would collapse. If they went upstairs it would buy some time, but would it be enough? Like the cops, the firefighters were busy. An abandoned house would not be top priority.
Luis thought all this through in a flash and made the only decision possible: “Window,” he said, and shoved the genius toward it.
The air in the room warmed up and the smoke became a presence that stung your eyes and hurt your chest. It was all happening fast. It was keep up or give in. Luis tugged the curtains down, ignoring sharp edges and nails, then yanked the battered old sheets of plywood free.
“Go!” He shoved the genius toward the opening.
“Wait!” Computer Genius protested.
“No time!” Luis kneed him in the butt, and the genius lurched into the night. “Grab a branch!” Luis commanded. The genius did so and let go of the laptop. Luis lunged for it and made a lucky catch. Save and a beauty, he thought, climbing out the window himself and grabbing on to a twisted branch.
Luckily, the branch he chose was sturdy. Gripping it, he swung forward till his right foot gained purchase on a lower branch close to the trunk. He let go, fell forward, lost his balance, and dropped into thin air before his desperate fingers found still another branch, which prevented his crashing to the sidewalk. Miraculously, the laptop remained under his arm.
Computer Genius, meanwhile, had not descended from his original perch, the branch nearest the second-floor window.
“¡Necesito ayuda! Help me!” he called.
Luis dropped to the sidewalk and looked back. “Okay, genius,” he said. “Your turn to follow instructions.” Then, toehold by toehold and grip by grip, he began the process of talking his friend down. Luis was surprised that he could see the genius clearly among the branches of the tree. Was it dawn already? Or was the fire casting that much light?
At last, panting and sweaty, the genius dropped to the sidewalk. “Gracias,” he said. “I’m not sure, but maybe you saved my life.”
“I got you into this. I had to get you out,” Luis said, and then remembered they weren’t really out yet. Where was the hunter?
Luis looked away from the house, scanning the street and the sidewalk till, sure enough, something in motion caught his eye—a big man lumbering bearlike down the block, bald head gleaming in the glow of streetlights. Luis thought the man seemed familiar. Then Luis thought something else.
Wait a second. Streetlights?
Luis looked up and saw to his astonishment that a couple of them were lit, and then, as he watched, others began buzzing to life as well. There were a few occupied houses on this block of Larch, and two porchlights came on. Then—oh, wonderful noise—he heard the blare of voices from TVs.
“Genius?” Luis said, looking him in the face.
Computer Genius shrugged. “Yeah. I thought that last code was gonna work. And you want to know something funny? The file that turned out the lights was called ‘zap.exe.’ ”
By this time flames were licking the window frames, and the outside air was smoky. In the distance, Luis heard a siren. “We gotta go, Genius,” he said. “I have a feeling things might get complicated if we stick around.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
For Luis, the sound of the six a.m. alarm had never been so sweet.
He sat up in bed, batted the clock to shut it up, and then regarded the time. The illuminated numerals, 6:01 a.m., looked cheerful. So did his phone when he unplugged it and stared at the colorful, bright, useful icons on the screen. He thought he had never appreciated their beauty till now, or the fact that the lights would t
urn on when he flicked a switch. He might make oatmeal in the microwave for the sheer thrill of making oatmeal in the microwave. From the kitchen came the hum of the fridge, and it was a beautiful noise.
Computer Genius was curled up in a nest of sheets and blankets on the floor. His head rested on his laptop. Luis had offered him a bed, but he refused to take it or the sofa either. So much comfort, he had said, would only make him uncomfortable.
Luis stepped over Computer Genius, dressed quietly, then pushed his toe under the bed to make sure the box was still there. It was, and he went into the bathroom and washed his face—isn’t hot water a wonderful thing?—then to the kitchen, where he turned on the TV news.
Naturally, the reporting was all about the end of the blackout—the multimillion-dollar hit to the local economy, the traffic jams as residents returned, lines at reopening gas stations and grocery stores, business owners cleaning up the mess left by looters and filing insurance claims. The scale of the damage was only now being added up.
The newscasters themselves seemed giddy with relief. I feel ya, Luis thought.
But how had the power been restored? What had been the problem in the first place? The newscasters didn’t say. All agreed it was a surprise when the power came back on. There had been no hint about that during New Jersey Light’s last press conference the night before. Another press conference was scheduled for the afternoon. They expected more information then.
A commercial came on—that election ad where the lady running for mayor, Julia Girardo, makes the baby cry. Luis laughed even though he’d seen it a million times. Anyone who frowned at a baby that way had to be a terrible person—but hadn’t Maura said her uncle Nate worked for her? Grown-ups are weird, thought Luis.
He stirred water and the contents of an oatmeal packet in a bowl, wondering how much the people at the power company knew. Could they identify Computer Genius’s laptop as the one that had been poking around their system? Could they use GPS to identify its location—the genius’s location? When the truth came out, maybe the genius would get prize money, or a medal, or free electricity for life.
Maybe I will, too, Luis thought. I wouldn’t mind being celebrated. Maybe it would help me get girls. Not that I want girls exactly, but Reynaldo says someday I probably will.
But wait—no. What was he thinking? To claim his share of glory, Luis would have to reveal the part about Mr. O’Hara. He had helped the bad guys—whoever they were—but he was sick and he was Maura’s grandfather. No way could Luis rat him out, and if Computer Genius wanted to take credit, he would have to leave both Luis and Maura’s grandpa out of the story.
Luis was pretty sure Computer Genius could be counted on to do that. Unlike some people (Carlos!), he was not a blabbermouth.
Oh, well, Luis thought. The coolest superheroes were always the ones who operated in secret. Even Odysseus had disguised himself when first he came home from the war.
Luis ate the sweet warm oatmeal standing at the kitchen counter. Between bites he texted Maura. Hey, sup? How’s grandpa? U? Lots to tell. I have questions! Do u have answers?
Maura must not have been up yet because there was no reply.
Besides talking to Maura, Luis had one other priority: money. He could explain all day to Señora Álvaro that he had borrowed four hundred and fifty dollars to pay the genius to fix the computers and fix the blackout. He could explain all day—and Señora Álvaro would only raise one eyebrow and hold out her hand. Luis would have to find a way to pay her back.
Luis was pondering this problem when Maura replied: Come over right now, followed three seconds later by a second text: Please.
• • •
Luis left a note on the genius’s pillow telling him to text when he woke up. Then he texted his mom to say don’t worry about the kid asleep on the floor. Like everyone, his mom knew the legend of Computer Genius, but she had never seen him in the flesh. He’s harmless, Luis wrote.
Luis’s mom didn’t answer. Maybe she was still asleep. Way down in Delaware—did his parents even know the power was back?
The morning was clear and warmer than the day before. The good weather matched the good mood of a city returning to normal, a city with electricity and gasoline and heat and precious television. You’d almost think we were civilized or something, Luis thought.
Halfway down the block on his bike, whom should he see but Carlos walking up the sidewalk in his direction.
Carlos the snitch. Carlos the traitor. Carlos, his cousin and former friend.
“You’re not dead,” Carlos said when Luis stopped in front of him. He wasn’t kidding either. His face showed obvious relief.
“No thanks to you,” Luis said.
“Wait—you know about that? I mean . . . I mean . . .” Carlos stammered in confusion.
Luis was in a hurry. Whatever Maura wanted couldn’t wait. Still, he was curious how Carlos planned to explain himself. So he put on his most innocent face and asked, “Know what?”
“Nothing,” Carlos said quickly.
“Am I supposed to be dead?” Luis asked.
“Never mind that,” said Carlos. “The electricity’s back. ¡Qué bueno! What did you have for breakfast? I had waffles.”
“I’m surprised you tore yourself away from World of Warcraft long enough to come over here,” said Luis. “You must’ve really been worried.”
“Is Computer Genius okay?” Carlos asked. “I heard sirens last night, and then I heard there was a fire in one of the old houses. It wasn’t the one on Larch, was it?”
“Sí,” said Luis.
Carlos had been doing a good job controlling his face, but now he failed. He looked hit in the nose, as if he might cry. “Dios mío,” he murmured. “Is he okay? Is he the one who fixed the blackout?”
“Let me ask you something,” Luis said. “When was the last time you saw Tony Cencerro?”
When Carlos caved, he didn’t mess around. Luis had to give him that. All at once, the story came tumbling out, pretty much exactly the way Tony had told it, only interrupted by a lot of “I’m so sorry” and “I’m so rotten.” Luis listened till he got bored, which wasn’t very long.
“Shut up,” he said finally.
Like a balloon deflating, Carlos sputtered a little longer. Finally, he asked, “What are you gonna do to me?”
“Don’t know yet. Stand by. Gotta go,” Luis said.
“Where?” Carlos asked.
“Like I’d tell you,” Luis said. Then he stood up on the pedals and took off.
• • •
It seemed to Luis as he rode that everyone he passed was smiling. Neighbors were talking together on the street. Even in the long lines for gas, people were out of their cars, clapping each other on the back, and laughing. It was like the best holiday ever. Tomorrow people would go back to work, Luis would go back to school, and everyone would be frowning again. But now it was time to celebrate. The world hadn’t ended. The lights were on. Normal had never looked so good.
The sunshine and the chilly breeze were exhilarating. Luis’s brain worked to the fast rhythm of bike pedals pumping. Who had caused the blackout in the first place, and why? Who was the hunter? How was he connected to the blackout—or was he? More likely it was someone else like Tony, Luis thought, someone who knew I had money on me. I should’ve asked Carlos if he talked to anyone else. Or could it be Tony who blabbed?
Passing the mall, Luis saw that some of the TV trucks had packed up already, but the ones from nearby stations were still there. Julia Girardo’s pickup truck, the one covered in her campaign signs, was in the lot too.
Luis was coasting fast when he got to Maura’s turnoff and leaned hard to make the right. It was too bad Tony didn’t remember anything that happened right before he was hit in the head, too bad he couldn’t describe the hunter’s face. Luis thought back to how the big bald guy running down the street had seemed familiar, even from behind. It could be he had seen him before. It wouldn’t be that strange. Hampton was a city b
ut a small one.
At Maura’s front door, Luis pulled out his phone and texted: I’m here!
When Maura answered the door, she didn’t smile. Instead she took a deep breath.
“Are you okay?” Luis asked.
She nodded but wasn’t very convincing. “I think so, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“What happened? I’ve got a lot to tell you. You will never believe it. Is your grandpa home?”
“He came home this morning. Now he’s back at his place, resting. My mom’s there with him,” Maura said. “Everything is probably fine, but I’m kind of freaked out. It’s good the power’s back. Did that just happen like normal, or did . . . you know . . . Computer Genius?”
Now that the heat was back, they sat down at the kitchen table to talk. Luis was not one for unnecessary details. If he hadn’t been interrupted, he could have told the whole story in five minutes. But Maura asked a lot of questions and made a lot of comments of her own. They were twenty minutes in by the time Luis described the hunter in the streetlights.
“Does that sound familiar to you—big bald guy, kind of slow on his feet?” Luis said.
Maura shrugged. “You only saw him from the back, right?”
“There was something about him . . .” Luis shook his head. “Anyway, that’s pretty much the whole story. I rode by 316 Larch this morning. A fire truck was still there, and the guys were cleaning up. The front of the house doesn’t look that bad, but it’s all black around the windows. I bet the insides are burned out.”
“You could’ve died,” Maura said. “Did you think of that? Was this hunter guy trying to kill you?”
“I don’t know,” Luis said. “Maybe he just wanted to scare us. Anyway, he saw us get out. I think he must’ve waited around till we did. He only ran when the lights came on.”
“You have to tell the police,” Maura said.
“I don’t know,” Luis said. “I don’t want to tell them about your grandpa.”
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