The Genius Files #4

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The Genius Files #4 Page 13

by Dan Gutman


  “Coke! Pepsi! Are you in there?”

  “Yes!”

  “In here!”

  “Mom? Dad?”

  But it wasn’t their mother or father who had come to rescue them. The parents were still waiting patiently in the car. The gears of the wrapping machine were put into reverse and the cages were backed out until Coke and Pep could see who had come to save them.

  “Bones! Mya!” Pep hollered. “What are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t think we gave up on you two, did you?” Mya asked as she opened the cage and helped Pep climb out of it.

  “I did, actually,” Coke said as Bones opened his cage. “But I’m glad I was wrong.”

  Chapter 24

  KEEPING AUSTIN WEIRD

  Except for a rip in Coke’s T-shirt, the twins were fine. They told Mya and Bones everything they could remember about Doominator and Mrs. Higgins.

  “Let’s go!” Bones hollered to Mya. “Maybe we can catch them before they get too far.”

  Before following him, Mya put her hands on the twins’ shoulders.

  “We will watch out for you, always,” she said. Then she hugged them both and ran after Bones.

  Coke and Pep had no interest in hanging around to see the rest of the chocolate factory. They rushed back to the little storage room and climbed out the small window they had entered. Their parents were waiting in the car.

  “So, did you have fun?” asked Dr. McDonald. “Was it exciting, having the run of the place?”

  “Exciting is the perfect word for it, Dad,” Coke replied.

  “Not again!” Mrs. McDonald asked, poking her finger through the tear in Coke’s shirt. “What happened this time?”

  “It . . . uh . . . got caught on something,” Coke said honestly. “I’m really sorry, Mom.”

  “I wish you’d be more careful,” Mrs. McDonald said shaking her head. “I feel like you ruin a new T-shirt just about every day.”

  Afterward, they had dinner and checked into a Waco hotel called La Quinta Inn & Suites. It was still early, and the twins, in the privacy of their own room, had some time to talk things over.

  “Do you think that robot is as dangerous to us as the real Dr. Warsaw?” Pep wondered as she brushed her teeth.

  “It’s more dangerous,” Coke replied. “At least Dr. Warsaw felt guilty about what he was doing. That’s probably why he had a nervous breakdown. Doominator has everything Dr. Warsaw has, except for a conscience. So the robot can kill a kid and feel no remorse.”

  “Do you think Mrs. Higgins really loves him?” Pep asked. “I mean, is it possible to fall in love with a robot? Or for a robot to fall in love with a person?”

  “Beats me,” her brother replied. “The two of them seem like they’re meant for each other. They’re both psychos.”

  Go to Google Maps (http://maps.google.com).

  Click Get Directions.

  In the A box, type Waco TX.

  In the B box, type Austin TX.

  Click Get Directions.

  From Waco to Austin is a straight shot south about a hundred miles down I-35. In the morning, Dr. McDonald let the Ferrari unwind and they made the trip in an hour and a half.

  As soon as they arrived in Austin, it was obvious that this was not your typical central Texas town. Besides its fame as the Live Music Capital of the World, Austin is also famous simply for being a weird place and proud of it. In fact, bumper stickers and signs around town say KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD.

  From the giant fork outside the Hyde Park Bar & Grill to the mural of a frog saying HI, HOW ARE YOU, the town has a refreshing oddball character to it. Nothing says that more than the Museum of the Weird on East Sixth Street. That’s exactly where Mrs. McDonald wanted to go to gather material for Amazing but True.

  People who are fascinated by UFOs, ghosts, sideshow freaks, and zombies feel right at home in this place. It’s filled with displays of shrunken heads, Fiji mermaids, Bigfoot footprints, live reptiles, wax vampires, mummies, and strange animals like a hairy fish and a two-headed cow. There’s a photo of a football team with six-fingered players.

  “This place creeps me out,” Pep said as she gazed at an exhibit about Ballyhoo Betty, a professional fire-eater who pulls nails out of her nose. But Pep made it a point to look at every photo on the wall and peer into every display case.

  Mrs. McDonald took a few pictures and jotted down some notes, but the Museum of the Weird was a little too weird even for her. And Dr. McDonald looked down his nose at the whole operation.

  “They call this a museum?” he said with a snort. “That’s ridiculous. Your mother and I will meet you outside.”

  After their parents left, the twins continued looking at the displays and giggling at the outrageousness of it all.

  On a table near the shrunken head display was a button that looked like a doorbell. On a piece of paper next to it, somebody had written in childish handwriting. . . .

  PUSH THIS BUTTON FOR A SURPRISE

  Coke, intrigued, pushed the button. A voice came out of a little speaker. . . .

  “7-14-12-4-14-5-19-7-4-2-17-8-2-10-4-19-12-0-18-19-4-17.”

  “It must be busted,” Coke said. He pushed the button again.

  “7-14-12-4-14-5-19-7-4-2-17-8-2-10-4-19-12-0-18-19-4-17.”

  “I don’t think it’s busted,” Pep said. “I think it’s a cipher.”

  “Oh no, not another one,” Coke groaned. “Not numbers!”

  “Relax,” his sister told him. “We can do this.”

  “Maybe you can do it,” Coke replied. “I’m useless.”

  “Well, then memorize the numbers, at least,” Pep instructed him.

  “I already did.”

  That was the last thing either of them would do at the Museum of the Weird. At that moment, everything went black. Heavy blankets were thrown over the twins’ heads, and then wrapped up tightly. It all happened so fast, there was no time to react. They were grabbed roughly from behind, picked up, and carried out the back exit.

  Chapter 25

  GOING FOR A RIDE

  Coke felt himself being carried down a flight of stairs, out a door, around a corner, and then up another flight of stairs.

  “Help!” he could hear his sister shouting. But her voice was muffled, as she, too, was wrapped tightly inside a heavy blanket.

  Finally, both twins were unwrapped so they could see their kidnappers.

  “Bowler dudes!” Pep shouted. “Not again!”

  “At your service,” said the bowler dude with the mustache.

  “At your service,” repeated the clean-shaven bowler dude.

  “I said that already.”

  “And I said it again.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You shut up.”

  Aside from the arguing bowler dudes, it was an empty room. There were no windows, and there was just one door. One way out, and the bowler dudes were blocking it.

  “What are you going to do to us now?” Coke asked defiantly.

  “You’ll find out,” the clean-shaven bowler dude said, snickering. With that, both bowler dudes left the room, locking the door behind them.

  Pep let out the best scream she could muster, but the room was soundproof, of course. Coke looked around for an escape route. There were no vents in the floor, walls, or ceiling. He reached for the cell phone in his back pocket. It was gone. Pep’s had been taken away too.

  When a half hour had passed and the twins hadn’t come out of the Museum of the Weird, their parents went inside to get them. Coke and Pep, of course, were no longer there.

  “Have you seen two kids?” Dr. McDonald asked the lady behind the ticket booth. “A boy and a girl? Twins? They’re thirteen.”

  “Yeah, I think I saw them in here earlier,” the lady replied. “Maybe fifteen minutes ago. They must have left.”

  Dr. and Mrs. McDonald rushed outside and looked up and down the busy street. There were a lot of kids milling around. But not their kids.

  Reader, as a young p
erson, you can’t imagine the feeling that comes over parents when they’re out in a public place and their children suddenly are not where they expect them to be. In a matter of seconds, the parents will go from calm and relaxed to believing they will never see their children again.

  Dr. McDonald dialed the cell phone numbers for Coke and Pep. No answer. Now the McDonalds were getting frantic. The next call was to the police.

  The twins were locked in a room just a few blocks away, but there was no way of knowing that. There was nothing for them to do either. Hours passed. At some point, the door flew open and one of the bowler dudes slid in a tray with two burritos on it. Then the door slammed shut again. Other than that, there was no communication. The twins lost track of time.

  “Why do you think they’re holding us here?” Pep asked her brother. “If they wanted to do something to us, they could have done it already.”

  “It’s almost like they’re waiting for something,” Coke replied.

  They were.

  The nice detective at the police station helped Mrs. McDonald file a missing persons report. The police would comb the city looking for the twins, she explained calmly. Kids get reported missing all the time. More often than not, they stray a hundred yards from their parents or wander off in search of ice cream. On the very rare occasion, a kid is kidnapped. But all threats must be taken seriously.

  Just before dusk, the door abruptly opened again and both of the bowler dudes came into the room. It was almost a relief for the kids to see human beings, even if it had to be those human beings. The mustachioed one was carrying two rags and some thick rope. He proceeded to tie the twins’ hands behind their backs and blindfold them.

  “Get your paws off of me!” Coke shouted, trying to karate-kick the clean-shaven bowler dude. He knocked the bowler hat off the dude’s head but didn’t inflict any damage.

  The big man was not amused. He picked up Coke and hoisted him over his shoulder. His brother did the same to Pep.

  “Where are you taking us?” she demanded. “Leave us alone!”

  “You’re going for a ride,” the clean-shaven bowler dude said. “Kids like rides, don’t you?”

  The twins couldn’t see where they were being taken, but they could tell they were carried downstairs and thrown roughly into a van. The ride was short, less than five minutes. They couldn’t have traveled even a mile. Coke spent the time trying to free his hands behind his back, but the rope was expertly tied.

  The van came to a stop. The doors opened. The bowler dudes weren’t talking. Coke and Pep felt themselves being picked up and carried a short distance. It was quieter here. The sounds of the city were more distant.

  They felt themselves being lowered carefully onto something. It was wobbly, not a solid surface. There was the sound of water underneath.

  “I think we’re in a boat,” Coke said. “A little boat.”

  “And I’d advise you not to try anything stupid, like jumping out of it,” one of the bowler dudes said. “It’s really hard to swim with your hands tied behind your back.”

  “Gee, thanks for the advice,” Coke replied sarcastically. “You’re a big help. Do you have any other pearls of wisdom for us?”

  “Yeah, have fun!” shouted one of the bowler dudes.

  With that, he gave the rowboat a shove with his foot, pushing it out onto the Colorado River.

  When I say Colorado River, you’re probably thinking of white-water rafting through the Grand Canyon. It certainly would be a terrifying experience to go through rapids on a rowboat, blindfolded, with your hands tied behind your back.

  But that’s a different Colorado River. The Colorado around Austin is a slow-moving river, with dams that created man-made lakes within the city limits. The rowboat floated almost peacefully away from the shore.

  “Where are we?” Pep asked.

  “On a lake or a river,” Coke replied. “Probably a river. I feel movement.”

  He struggled to free his hands from the ropes. It was hot, and he was sweating. Coke was careful not to rock the boat. Capsizing it could be catastrophic.

  “What if we’re going to go over a waterfall?” Pep asked, sudden panic in her voice. “What if we’re going to go over Niagara Falls!”

  “This is Texas, you dope,” her brother replied. “Here, let’s turn around so we’re back-to-back. Then you can try to loosen my rope, and I can try to loosen yours.”

  Very carefully, the twins maneuvered around in the little rowboat until they were facing in opposite directions. Pep’s fingers were slightly smaller than her brother’s, which made it easier for her to pick at the knot.

  Working together, they were making progress. If they could loosen their hands, they could get the blindfolds off their faces. Then they’d be free.

  “What’s that squeaking noise?” Pep asked as she worked at the rope.

  “It sounds like birds,” her brother replied.

  “They’re getting closer,” Pep said, “and I think something just dripped on my head. Ewww, what is that smell?”

  “Forget the smell,” Coke replied excitedly. “I’m almost free!”

  The last knot came loose. Coke pulled the rope off his hands and ripped the blindfold from his face. Instantly, he saw what was making the noise and the smell.

  “Bats!” he shouted.

  Yes, bats. Not the kind you use to hit a baseball. I’m talking about furry, flying mammals with webbed wings. Those kinds of bats.

  It just so happens that the largest urban bat colony in North America lives under the Congress Avenue Bridge in Austin, Texas. Every day around sunset, more than a million Mexican free-tailed bats emerge from the underside of the bridge and go out for dinner at the same time.

  With her brother’s help, Pep ripped the blindfold off her face, but maybe she shouldn’t have. A three-and-a-half-inch gray bat was flying directly toward her head, only to veer away at the last instant.

  “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeek!” Pep screamed, ducking and covering her face. “They’re everywhere!”

  Indeed they were. The swarm of bats coming from the bottom of the bridge was like a dark cloud swirling around the little boat. Mexican free-tailed bats can fly as fast as sixty miles per hour, diving, twisting, screeching, and crapping the whole time. Anyone would be terrified to be in the middle of them.

  “Stay still!” Coke shouted over the screeching.

  “Are you crazy?” Pep shrieked back. “Bats suck blood! They have rabies! I’m covered in bat poop!”

  “They aren’t aggressive!” Coke insisted. “Bats don’t care about people! They eat insects!”

  Well, he was right about that. A bat’s diet consists of moths, beetles, dragonflies, wasps, and ants. They can consume up to one-half of their body weight in insects each night.

  “But there are millions of them!” Pep shrieked, waving her arms around frantically. “And they’re blind! They’re blind as bats!”

  “Be calm! Close your eyes!” Coke advised. “They use echolocation for navigation and detecting prey! They won’t touch you!”

  He was right about that too. Bats “see” with their ears. They emit noises and listen to the echoes to sense objects around them. That’s how they avoid flying into things, such as people who happen to be sitting in boats under bridges.

  “Screw that!” Pep screamed. “I’m outta here!”

  With that, she hurled herself off the side of the boat.

  “Come to think of it, that’s not a bad idea,” Coke said, just before diving into the river himself.

  Their heads popped out of the water at the same time. The swarm of bats was even thicker now. They almost blocked out the sky.

  “Get underwater!” Pep shouted.

  Both twins filled their lungs with air and submerged for as long as they could hold their breath. When Coke finally came up for air, the bats were still swarming all over. He gulped some air and swam under the rowboat, pushing it from the bottom to turn it upside down and create a little shelter over his head. Pep
surfaced and ducked under the boat too.

  After what seemed like forever—but was actually just a few minutes—the last of the bats had flown out from under the bridge. The air was suddenly still. It was over. It would be a while until all those bats returned from dinner.

  Together, exhausted, the twins swam toward the riverbank. When they made it to the edge, two hands reached down to pull them up on the shore.

  It was their parents.

  “You two are so grounded!” their father shouted.

  Chapter 26

  ANOTHER CLUE

  As soon as Coke and Pep got out of the water, their parents were all over them, like bats under a bridge.

  “Where have you two been all day?”

  “We told you to meet us outside the museum!”

  “Why were you in the river?”

  “What were you thinking?”

  “You had us worried sick!”

  “We were scared to death!”

  “We filed a police report!”

  Pep looked to her brother, as usual, to do the talking.

  “Okay, here’s what happened,” Coke tried to explain. “We were kidnapped from the museum by these guys in bowler hats. They locked us in a room all afternoon. Then they tied us up and brought us out to the river. They put us in a boat and the bats came out and—”

  “Don’t give me that, mister!” Dr. McDonald shouted. “We’ve heard enough of your wild stories!”

  The parents were even angrier when they found out the twins no longer had their cell phones. Not a word was spoken in the car on the way to the Econo Lodge Arboretum in North Austin. Coke and Pep knew that any excuse they could come up with wouldn’t fly with their parents.

  “You are not to leave this room tonight,” Dr. McDonald said coldly after they had checked into the hotel. “You are not to turn on the TV. You are not to take anything out of the minibar. Do you understand me?”

  “Yeah,” both twins replied glumly.

  “In case of emergency—and there better not be an emergency—your father and I will be listening to music at Antone’s on Fifth Street,” said Mrs. McDonald. “You two can sit here and think about what you did.”

 

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