Kidnapped

by Nathan Pedde

  Des walked down the empty hallways and into the teacher’s lounge. In it were rows and rows of the teacher’s personal desks when they weren’t in the classroom teaching. In Des’s school, the students stayed in their classroom, the teacher was the one who moved from class to class to teach.

  He quickly found Mr. Mixon’s desk, which didn’t look like how his apartment did. Des guessed without his wife to help keep him organized, it was full of papers and books.

  Des sat down at the desk, turning on Mr. Mixon’s computer. A security notice popped up on the screen. He activated the security console using the stolen credentials, and the system opened.

  He pulled Mr. Smith’s disk out of his pocket, sliding it into the computer slot. Des clicked one button, and a progress bar flashed on the screen. After a couple moments, it flew through and disappeared. Des wasn’t sure if it worked or not. He was tempted to look at his test scores. However, everything he did on the computer was being recorded. It was better to remove the disk and shut down the computer.

  With his grades fixed, Des shut the computer down and shoved the disk back in his pocket. Wiping away his finger prints, he set the security card on the desk. Des left the teacher’s lounge, making his way out of the school. With no one around the school, he walked down the street.

  After a few moments, Des knew he was outside the camera area. He turned off his holo-disguise. When he reached his hover-bike, his phone rang.

  It was his brother, so Des answered it.

  “What,” Sheemo said.

  “What do you mean, what?” Des said. “You called me.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Des said. “I swear that—”

  Des stopped talking with his mind racing. He had put a tracker on Sheemo’s phone. With Sheemo helping them with the scanner and hunting for more saboteurs, it was one way to keep him safe. It was supposed to call him if it intercepted any weird activity.

  “If you are messing—”

  “Shut up.” Des interrupted him. “Get out. Get out now.”

  “Excuse me,” Sheemo said. “I still need to pay.”

  “Put it on my tab and go,” Des said.

  “I’m confused,” Sheemo said.

  “Then stay confused, but do as I say,” Des said.

  “Now I know you’re messing with me,” Sheemo said, hanging up.

  “Sweet Jupiter, you pig-headed fool,” Des said, dialing the number once more.

  Sheemo answered his phone.

  “What do you want?” Sheemo asked.

  “You need to leave the diner,” Des said. “You need to go now. I can’t explain it, but you—”

  The connection ended abruptly once more.

  “Stupid fool,” Des said, dialing once more.

  It went to voicemail.

  “Idiot,” Des said.

  Des gunned the engine, soaring down the street.

  “Cryslis,” Des said, as the Neuronet activated.

  “What?” Cryslis replied. “It’s late, and I need to be up very early.”

  “Sheemo’s phone tracker just called me,” Des said. “He’s been tagged.”

  “That’s not good,” Cryslis said. “Where is he now?”

  “The diner,” Des said.

  “Roger that,” Cryslis said. “Head there now, I’ll activate Elsie and Cooley to converge on the location.”

  “Roger,” Des said, the Neuronet going dark.

  Des gunned the engine, racing down the street even faster. He knew he could be breaking the law by speeding. However, he made sure to stop for red lights and stop signs. Not that he wanted to as the streets were empty of people.

  After fifteen minutes of racing through the deserted streets of the Teal Sector, Des arrived at the diner, which was on fire. A Station fire crew was on-site with water hoses dousing the flames. They looked like experts, which was saying a lot as the station had a justifiable fear of fires, being in space and all.

  Around the vicinity of the diner were gawkers. People all wanting to see what was going on. Des looked around the area. He didn’t see anyone looking suspicious to him. They might be there, but Des didn’t see them.

  Then his phone rang once more, it was Sheemo.

  “Sheemo, where the fuck are you?” Des asked.

  “Not Sheemo,” a woman said on the phone.

  “What did you do to my brother?” Des asked.

  “Calm down,” the woman said. “He is fine. And will stay that way. Don’t you worry. I have a list of demands for you. I just sent it to your phone from your brothers. Take a look. Don’t call me. We’ll call you.”

  Des clenched his fist, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He needed to get it out of his hands. It took all his willpower to keep himself from smashing the phone into the pavement. Even though Des had problems with his brother, who was pig-headed and close-minded at times, he was still his brother.

  “Cryslis,” Des said over the Neuronet. “You there?”

  “We are headed to you in the van,” Cryslis said. “Where are you?”

  “The diner,” Des said. “But don’t come here. Meet me two blocks away.”

  “Why?” Cryslis asked.

  “Because it’s been set on fire and crawling with firefighters and guard officers,” Des said.

  “Roger,” Cryslis said. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

  Des walked into the crowd of people and clicked on his holo-disguise. It was risky activating it in a group of people. Except, it was dark, and the people were looking at the flames, not at some kid. One moment, he was Des, the next, he was Mr. Mixon. He suspected someone was watching the diner and may have eyes on him. Going through the crowd and changing his face should hide him from sight.

  He mounted hover-scooter and sped away from the diner. The lights and sirens faded into the distance behind him like a bad dream. After he reached the two blocks, he saw the white van pull up to the spot on the street corner.

  “Cryslis,” Des said. “Be advised, I have a different face on.”

  “How did-” Cryslis said. “Never mind. Describe the face.”

  “Pudgy,” Des said. “Mid-fifties and balding. Dressed in black, driving a white scooter.”

  “Roger. We see you.”

  The sliding side door of the van opened, and Cooley crouched in the back.

  Des increased the hover in the bike, and it rose in the air. Des slid to a stop inside of the van. Cooley shut the door as Des turned off the hover-bike.

  “Go,” Cooley said to Cryslis, who drove the van.

  Des sat on the floor of the van, exhaustion filling his body and bones. He clicked his necklace, and his face changed back.

  Cryslis drove the van, dressed in black tactical clothes. Which meant lots of pockets and slots for many different things. Elsie sat in the passenger seat, she had tight-fitting black pants and a black shirt. They were flexible for running and moving.

  “Pull out your phone,” Cooley said.

  Des brought himself back to the present and did so. The moment it came out of his pocket, Cooley snatched it up.

  “Where is he?” Des said, referring to Sheemo.

  “His phone is a couple of blocks away in a warehouse,” Cooley said.

  “I am sure it’s a trap,” Cryslis said.

  “Probably,” Des said. “Do we go into it or no?”

  “I don’t think so,” Cryslis said. “Are there any demands yet?”

  Des took the phone back from Cooley. He opened his messenger application and clicked on Sheemo’s name. There was nothing in the new messages.

  “Not yet,” Des said.

  Cryslis investigated the mirror. “Where did you get the disguise?”

  “I made it,” Des said.

  “Why?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Maybe,” Cryslis said. “Maybe not. I don’t like my people having secrets I don’t know about.”

  “Oh,” Des said. “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps what?”

  Des’s phone beeped
, and he looked down. A message from Sheemo arrived. It was a list of demands.

  “Here is the list,” Des said. “Did you want me to read it out?”

  “Sure,” Cryslis said.

  “They want 2 million credits, a hundred APG Chassis, three X-Co Holo-Generators, and a pet monkey,” Des said.

  “Really?” Cryslis said. “Some of those items make sense, but some of them like a pet monkey are stupid. It makes no sense.”

  Des looked out the window of the van. They were driving down a small alley, a standard tactic of Cooley’s, to make sure they were not being followed. No reasonable person goes down alleys at night, especially not ones like this one, which was filled with garbage bins and other trash littering the side. The debris made it torturous to drive down on a skinny hover-bike, let alone a large white van.

  Out from a dark corner of the alley, a dumpster rolled into the lane in front of the van. Cryslis slammed on the breaks, but it was too late. The van slammed into the dumpster. Trash and debris flew everywhere as the vehicle lost hover and scrapped along the pavement to a stop.

  Both Des and Cooley flew forward to the floor of the van.

  Des smacked into the driver seat, his face smashing into the hard plastic.

  Stars appeared in his vision as everything blurred in and out of focus.

  “Is everyone all right?” Cryslis asked.

  “Maybe,” Des said, standing.

  “I think so,” Cooley said.

  Des looked over at Elsie, who slumped limply in her seat. Cryslis leaned over and checked her.

  “She’s unconscious but fine,” Cryslis said.

  Cooley pulled his stun gun out of its holster from under his jacket. Cryslis pulled out an electric baton from the glove box while Des pulled his pin shooter out from the small of his back.

  A stun gun looked like a regular handgun, but it didn’t shoot the standard flechette. It didn’t have the power. However, it could fire a smaller dart that could shock or knock the target unconscious. The pin shooter looked like a bent straw and shot two metal pins at the target. Lower power than the stun gun with its one-shot, but it had a ten shot internal magazine.

  Des opened the side door with his pin shooter in his hand. He checked the surroundings for targets. The dumpster had damaged the front two hovers and scrunched the engine compartment like an accordion. Des was lucky to be alive. He counted that on the list of the times he almost died.

  “No ambush,” Des said.

  “Agreed,” Cryslis said. “I was expecting a dozen thugs to attack or something.”

  “I can get Elsie away on my bike,” Des said. “But what about you two?”

  “I don’t think we should be worrying about escape at the moment,” Cooley said.

  “Why’s that?” Cryslis asked.

  “In the darkness of this blasted alley are people,” Cooley said.

  “That’s not good,” Cryslis said, “Do we know—”

  “With glowing eyes,” Cooley replied.

  Chapter Six

  Des leaned out of the van, peeking into the darkness of the alley. Dozens of glowing eyes. Their yellow eyes were ominous, dangerous. At first, Des thought they were marines in their power armor. However, Cooley blasted a single light, chasing the darkness away in the alley. The machine underneath were not Marines.

  Out of the darkness came modified construction bots. They looked similarly designed to the ones Des fought against weeks before against Alix. Their metallic legs and bodies clanking against the asphalt of the alleyway.

  “That’s even worse,” Cryslis said, turning to Cooley. “Call it.”

  “Alright,” Cooley said. “Objective is to survive this fiasco before they can take any one of us or disable that scooter. Des, take the passenger door and the sliding door. Keep them from the door. When I say it, I want you on the scooter with Elsie, and I want you out of here. Cryslis, you are with me at the back door and the driver’s door.”

  Des nodded, exiting the van, the smell of the trash-filled his senses. He had to consciously keep himself from gagging. He opened the passenger door, standing next to it for cover.

  Two pins bounced off the door with metallic tings.

  “Here they come,” Cooley said.

  Cooley took up a shooting stance, the front of his weapon pointed at the first robot.

  “Surrender now,” a metallic bot said from the darkness.

  “Nuts,” Cooley shouted from the other side of the van.

  Cooley’s gun went off. The angry bark of the stun gun reverberated across the alley.

  Des saw a robot fall with a chunk of its head missing, then two more pins bounced off the passenger door.

  He pulled his attention back to where he was, spotting five robots march toward him from the front of the van. Three marched from behind. The targets were going after Elsie, who was still unconscious.

  Des aimed his pin shooter at a robot behind him and fired. The pins flew true, with visible sparks running over the robot’s chassis. It dropped to the asphalt with a loud metallic thud. Des changed his aim to the robot behind that one and squeezed the trigger. Des watched the second robot drop as well with pins stuck in its chest.

  Turning his attention back towards the robots in front, pins were bouncing off the door. Every time a shot slammed into the door, Des ducked behind it.

  They are robots, why aren’t they hitting me.

  Des attempted to move out from behind the door to aim at the enemies. Three sets of pins clanked against his metal barrier.

  Peeking out from the door, he saw one robot’s head explode as Cooley’s stun gun fired.

  The robots aimed their shock stick at Cooley. Cryslis slid underneath their arms, using her baton to fry them where they stood.

  Des turned his attention back to his robots, firing his pins at the robots as fast as he could. He missed more times than he hit. Only two more robots fell to his shots. Des ducked back behind the door.

  “Reloading,” Des yelled.

  Pulling out the spent magazine, it clattered to the ground. Des shoved in his spare. After these ten shots, he would be out of pins.

  Des aimed his pin shooter out the side of the door. A robot’s pin bounced off his pin shooter. The second of the pair grazed his hand, giving him a small shock. He dropped the pin shooter. It clattered on the ground, bouncing underneath the van.

  “Fuck, I dropped my weapon,” Des yelled.

  “Dumbass. Pick it up,” Cooley said.

  “It’s under the van. Cover me.”

  Dropping to the ground, he peered into the darkness for his shock stick. It sat behind the front passenger hover ball. Des reached for it, feeling the metallic handle in his hands.

  “Drop it,” a metallic voice said above him. “You are coming—”

  The robot fell over, two pins slammed into its faceplate.

  Des looked up. Elsie was awake and holding her pin shooter. A bruise appeared on her forehead where her head hit the dash.

  “This is crazy,” Elsie said, getting out of the van.

  She aimed her pin shooter to the rear of the van. Des stood up from the ground with his pin shooter in his hand. A red welt appeared where the pin shocked him. Des aimed his weapon to the front of the vehicle.

  “I know,” Des said, turning to Cooley and Cryslis. “Elsie’s awake. What’s the plan?”

  There was silence over from the other side of the van. Des looked behind him at where Cooley was a moment before. There was no sign of Cooley or Cryslis.

  “We are away,” Cryslis called over the Neuronet. “Get on the scooter and go.”

  Des jumped on the hover-scooter and cranked on the throttle. Elsie jumped on the back of the bike. Des gunned the engine, taking off out of the van. Des flew past a dozen more robots, all converging on his location. Pins flew past his head as he swerved out of the alley and into an avenue. Des slipped his pin shooter back into its holster least a guard catches him carrying it.

  The avenue bustled with people dri
ving along the route. Being close to industrial buildings, they would be workers heading home or the night shift heading to their jobs. Des weaved through traffic, leaving the alley behind.

  After a few minutes, he slowed down, opting to blend with the crowd, versus running like he stole something.

  In front of him, was the flashing lights of a guardsmen’s car. He wasn’t sure what was going on. However, part of him didn’t want to find out.

  “Des, Elsie,” Cryslis said over the Neuronet. “Did you get away?”

  “Yes,” Des said.

  “Thanks for leaving us behind,” Elsie snapped.

  “You lived,” Cryslis said. “Go to ground.”

  “Safehouse?”

  “Negative. The safe house has been compromised. It’s currently on fire.”

  “Plan B location?” Des asked.

  “Cooley’s cameras are out. Consider it compromised. Do not go home. Do not go anywhere you have been known to go. Hide. I’ll contact you later by other means. Do not use the Neuronet or phones or anything that can be traced.”

  “Follow protocol?” Des asked.

  “Yes,” Cryslis said.

  Des grumbled to himself for a moment. He never liked hiding. However, it was better to hide from his classmates as well as whoever that was.

  Des sped down the street. He wasn’t racing, but even the unmarked hover-scooter wasn’t going to be unnoticed for too long. It was only designed for a single passenger, and Elsie clung on behind him.

  He had to change bikes and fast. Some random turns later and a quick check for tails, Des maneuvered into a parking garage. He weaved his way around the massive concrete structure and up the ramp to the higher levels. On the third story of the five-story structure, he turned and headed toward an empty corner.

  He swerved into a parking space near the other scooters and turned off the engine. He sat for a moment on the bike without saying a word or moving. Des listened to the vehicles driving along the busy road, the sirens racing across the station.

  Satisfied no one followed him, he finally got off the bike.

  “I need you to trust me for a moment,” Des said.

  “Trust you?” Elsie asked, bewildered. “Why would I not trust you?”