by Greg Cox
His breath reeked of tobacco and alcohol. Pete turned his face away to avoid the stench.
“Sorry ’bout that,” Pete gasped. “My mistake.”
Dangling above the ground, it was difficult to get any leverage. All he had managed to do was hang on to the Tesla, not that it was doing him much good right now. He and Atlas were just a little too cozy at the moment. There was no way to blast the strong man without zapping himself as well. Electricity was a bitch that way.
What about Myka? Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his partner wrestling with an upset python while the snake charmer egged the serpent on. Myka appeared to be holding her own for the time being, but in the meantime Nadia and the glove were getting farther and farther away.
There had to be some way out of this mess.
Pete noticed that Myka was still wearing her protective purple gloves. A wild idea occurred to him. His arms remained pinned to his sides, but he could still move his wrist slightly. Maybe enough to aim the Tesla . . .
“Myka!” he shouted. “Can you unwrap yourself a little?”
She risked a peek at him. Her eyes widened as she spied the Tesla’s transparent barrel recharging. She nodded back at him, getting the message. Her right hand let go of the python’s throat, leaving only the left hand to hold its head—with its gaping mouth and fangs—away from her, and grabbed the snake’s tail. Agent and serpent danced awkwardly across the backstage area as she forcibly unwound the coils around her waist. It didn’t look easy, and she grunted with exertion, but she briefly managed to extricate herself from the python’s embrace. “Hurry!” she yelled, holding the writhing snake at arm’s length from her body. “It’s getting loose!”
“Hang on!” He bent his wrist back as far as it would go, pointing the Tesla toward her. There was no way to read the gauges on the weapon, but he hoped that it still had enough of a charge to take out a snake. “Here goes nothing!”
He squeezed the trigger. Cobalt lightning sizzled through the air to strike the python, which twitched and sparked like a high-voltage cable. Myka turned her face away from the crackling electricity, relying on her gloves to insulate her. Ozone tickled Pete’s nostrils.
The python went limp in Myka’s hands.
“Sssusssie-Q!” Ophidia shrieked sibilantly. “Sssweetie!”
Her leathery face contorted with rage, she ran at Myka, who dropped her with a spinning kick to the jaw. The snake charmer joined her pet in unconsciousness.
“Next time, keep your ‘sweetie’ on a leash,” Myka advised, her hands still full of stunned reptile. She turned toward Atlas. “Hey, big boy. You like snakes?”
Had she also noticed the strong man’s aversion to the serpent earlier? Of course, Pete realized. This was Myka, after all.
Atlas backed away from her. “Get that slimy thing away from me!”
“Trade you,” she said. “Catch!”
She lobbed the sagging serpent at the strong man, who let out a surprisingly high-pitched squeal. Panicked by the sight of the snake flying toward him, he let go of Pete and threw himself backward—right into the central pole supporting the tent.
A couple hundred pounds of pumped muscle collided with the pole, which cracked alarmingly. Heavy canvas heaved and tore loose from its moorings. The rippling fabric crackled like thunder. Pete looked up in dismay, as did everybody else under the tent.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” the fat lady said.
Jim dived for cover. More poles snapped.
“Timber . . .” Pete groaned.
An avalanche of canvas came down on their heads.
CHAPTER
6
WEST HAVEN
Everything was dark and stuffy. Pete felt like a princess looking for a pea as he wriggled beneath the heavy canvas toward a narrow sliver of light. Just a few more inches, he thought, as a meaty hand closed on his ankle. “Forget it, slick,” the fat lady huffed. “You’re not going anywhere.”
He gave her a taste of his shoe leather. He felt bad kicking a woman in the face, but maybe the extra padding in her cheeks would soften the blow? In any event, the pudgy fingers came loose long enough for him to scramble out from beneath the collapsed tent into the open air of the midway. The bright electric lights came as a jolt after the suffocating darkness. Squinting, he jumped to his feet. He kept a tight grip on the handle of the Tesla. Artie would kill him if he lost it.
“Myka?”
“Right here.” His partner emerged into the electric glow a few yards away. He ran over and helped her to her feet. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She brushed the dirt from her knees, then looked up and down the midway. “Where is Nadia?”
“Hell if I know.” He joined her in scanning the bustling carnival. Unfortunately, her sideshow buddies had given the fleeing healer plenty of time to vanish into the crowd. She could be anywhere by now, and they didn’t have time to search the entire show on foot. Glancing behind him, he saw more bodies burrowing under the canvas. Jim and the others would be crawling out soon. Anxious carnies and random lookie loos came running to check on the fallen tent. Pete and Myka blended into the spectators like they had nothing to do with the accident.
“We can’t let her get away with that glove,” Myka said urgently.
“Tell me about it.”
The Ferris wheel rotated above them. High-spirited shrieks and laughter spilled from its swinging cars. Pete’s gaze climbed to the top of the wheel, which was at least 150 feet above the carnival. There had to be quite a view from up there. . . .
“Hey!” he announced. “I just had the greatest idea ever.”
A nearby souvenir stand hawked cheap plastic toys and doodads. Pete dashed over to the stand, squeezing past a milling pod of schoolkids. Toy swords, rubber snakes, helium balloons, inflatable cartoon characters, whistles, pennants, and posters competed for his attention, but he ignored them in favor of a pair of flimsy plastic binoculars. “Put it on my tab,” he told the vendor as he snatched the binoculars and made tracks for the Ferris wheel, which was several yards away. He bulldozed through the crowd while a confused-looking Myka rushed to keep up with him.
“Pete?”
He tossed her the Tesla.
“Take this! You might need it!”
He skidded to a halt in front of the Ferris wheel and pointed to the topmost cars. “Maybe I can spot her from up there,” he explained, while cutting to the front of the line. He flashed his badge at the ride operator. “Secret Service, bub. I’m commandeering this ride.”
The operator looked understandably baffled. “‘Commandeering’?”
“You heard me, mister.” Pete took possession of a bottom car, over the protests of a teenage Romeo and his date. He barked orders at the carnie. “Take me up and don’t bring me down until you hear me yelling. This is a matter of national security!”
That might be stretching it or bit, or maybe not. Who knew what the full potential of Nadia’s glove was? Not too long ago, Charles Atlas’s workout trunks had nearly destroyed Detroit. . . .
“Okay, okay,” the cowed operator complied. “Whatever you say, man!”
The carnie worked a lever and the wheel resumed its turning. Pete called out to Myka as his car lurched forward. “I’ll let you know if I spot her. Stand by!”
“Good luck!” she shouted back.
The wheel’s leisurely rotation wasn’t nearly fast enough. He tapped his feet impatiently against the floor of the car while he waited for the ride to carry him upward. As soon as he cleared the roofs of the surrounding snack bars and ticket booths, he started scanning the carnival grounds through the toy binoculars. The cheap lenses weren’t exactly government issue, but they were better than his naked eyes . . . barely. Pete found himself wishing that he had borrowed George Reeves’s eyeglasses from the Warehouse before heading east. He could really use some super-vision right now.
The car shuddered to a halt at the top of the wheel. It rocked beneath him, even as he checked out the bird’s-eye view before hi
m, which was just as breathtaking as he had imagined. The entire carnival was spread out beneath him. Tiny figures paraded amidst the brightly lit rides and attractions or crowded around the collapsed sideshow tent. Dozens of feet below, Myka looked like The Incredible Shrinking Agent. She waited tensely at the foot of the ride.
Pete wished he had time to enjoy the spectacular vista, but spotting Nadia took priority. He swept his gaze over the sprawling carnival, searching for the fugitive healer. At first he didn’t see anything, and he started to wonder if this was such a bright idea after all. He lowered the binoculars to try to take in more of the scene. How was he supposed to spot one lone girl in all the glittery hustle and bustle below?
Come on, come on, he thought. Where are you?
Just as he considered giving up, a small white figure snagged his eye. Unlike the other miniature men, women, and children strolling the carnival, taking their time to enjoy its gaudy sights and sounds, this figure was zigzagging frantically through the crowd, making a beeline away from the fallen tent.
A surge of excitement quickened Pete’s pulse. Who else could it be? Lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, he zoomed in on the Lego-size figure.
Bingo! A clear shot of Nadia came into view. She was still wearing her Princess Nefertiti getup, making her stand out from the ordinary carnival-goers around her. The healing glove fit snugly onto her right hand. Pete took a moment to track her headlong path before ringing Myka’s cell phone. She picked up right away. “Yes?”
“Got her!” He wished they both had Farnsworths so she could see for herself. “Looks like she’s heading for the parking lot by the southern exit!”
“Roger that! Meet you there!”
Myka hung up abruptly. Pete watched from above as she took off toward the parking lot. Was there still time to catch Nadia before she got away? Pete crossed his fingers and wished Myka luck.
Go get her, partner!
Anxious to join the chase, he hollered down to the ride operator.
“Hey, buddy! Bring me down—pronto!”
Myka couldn’t wait for Pete to touch down on terra firma again. Leaving her partner behind, she sprinted across the carnival. “Out of the way!” she shouted, waving her badge above her head. “Coming through!”
Startled civilians cleared a path for her. A photographic memory helped her navigate the carnival’s confusing twists and turns as she remembered the route back to the parking lot. Her arms pistoned at her sides, and she silently thanked every minute she had spent jogging along the Warehouse’s never-ending catwalks. Nadia might be younger than she was, but Myka doubted that she was faster. This wasn’t the first time she’d pursued someone on foot. If she hurried, maybe there was still a chance to catch Nadia before she escaped with the glove.
Watching intently for the other woman, Myka missed the fallen snow cone lying in her way. Her foot slipped on the spilled ice, wrenching her ankle. “Damn!” she cursed, recovering her balance before hitting the dirt. Her ankle stung like blazes, but she couldn’t afford to favor it. She kept on running, albeit with a painful limp. Every step jabbed her like a red-hot knife.
Where was a healer now that she needed one?
Myka spotted the exit ahead. A carnie stood by the gate, stamping the wrists of customers who might want to return later. Beyond the exit, a grassy field had been converted into an ad hoc parking lot. Cars and trucks were lined up in rows. Glowing headlights heralded new arrivals and departures.
But where was Nadia? Deprived of Pete’s bird’s-eye view, Myka didn’t see the healer right away, but then she spotted the younger woman racing toward the exit, on the other side of a spinning carousel. Painted wooden horses galloped between Myka and her quarry, creating a strobe-like view of the healer. Nadia still had a decent head start on her. Myka realized there was no way she was going to intercept Nadia.
Unless . . .
She jumped onto the moving merry-go-round and grabbed onto the back of a mock wooden sleigh to keep from being thrown from the ride. A pair of passengers yelped in surprise, but Myka ignored them. She let the carousel carry her halfway around until she was in front of the exit, then jumped directly into Nadia’s path. The impact sent throbbing spasms through her ankle, but she managed to stick the landing without falling over.
Yay me, she thought.
“End of the line!” she barked at Nadia, who froze before her like a bronzed bad guy. Myka aimed the Tesla at the wide-eyed healer. The aching ankle added a definite edge to her voice. “It’s over, Nadia. Give me the glove.”
The agent’s ambush had obviously taken Nadia by surprise. She looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. “Please.” She guarded her gloved hand with her left, holding it close. “I just want to help people.”
“I know.” Myka’s voice softened somewhat. She limped toward the girl. “Believe it or not, so do I.”
Nadia backed away fearfully, her eyes glued to the muzzle of the Tesla. Chances were, the weapon needed more time to recharge after zapping the snake, but Nadia didn’t know that. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t give it up. I can’t.”
The carnie at the gate lumbered toward them. “Hey, what’s going on? This lady bothering you, Nadia?”
“Don’t even think about it,” Myka growled, turning the gun in his direction. She’d had enough carnie solidarity tonight, thank you very much. “Stay out of this.”
The pivoting motion twisted her injured ankle. Myka winced.
“What’s the matter?” Nadia asked. She stepped forward meekly, like she was finally ready to surrender. A concerned look came over her face. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing.” Myka appreciated the girl’s improved attitude. She hoped she could get some aspirin soon, after she had the elusive glove in custody. “Just my ankle.”
“Let me help.”
Too late Myka realized what the healer intended. Nadia reached out and placed her gloved right hand on the agent’s wrist.
“Wait!” Myka blurted. “Don’t—”
Bright blue sparks ignited where the glove touched her. An electric shock jolted Myka’s nervous system, surging from her wrist to her wounded ankle. Her body convulsed. Her eyes rolled backward until only the whites were visible. The whole world dissolved into static.
Myka crumpled to the ground.
“Myka!”
Pete found her sprawled near the exit. Rushing to her side, he feared the worst until his voice roused her. She sat up clumsily, looking woozy and disorientated. Wide brown eyes blinked rapidly before focusing on her partner. “Pete? Wh-what happened?”
For a moment he wondered if she had accidentally zapped herself with the Tesla, but no, that didn’t make sense. She’d still be out cold. Something else must have knocked her for a loop. Like maybe Nadia’s glove? Pete recalled the way her “patients” had collapsed before.
“Don’t look now,” he told her, “but I think you got healed. With extreme prejudice.”
Myka looked down at her ankle, which she wiggled experimentally. Pete could see the pieces coming together in her mind. “Nadia!” she blurted, snapping back to business. “She’s getting away.” She gestured urgently toward the exit. “You’ve got to go after her!”
Pete hesitated, reluctant to abandon his partner. “Are you sure?”
“I’m just a little dizzy,” she assured him. “Go!”
Taking her at her word, he ran through the exit into the parking lot. Rows of stationary vehicles obstructed his view while he searched for Nadia. His earlier sympathy for the distressed young healer was eroding fast. She had decked his partner, sort of. That made this personal.