by Liz Kessler
Tom’s eyes widened as he realized where I was going. “And a baby that’s still in the womb is growing even faster. So there’s even more chance of it picking up the properties of the serum through its mother.”
“Wow,” Heather said. “That’s, like . . .”
“Creepy?” Izzy suggested.
“I was going to say kind of miraculous,” Heather said softly. She shot a look at Izzy from under her eyelashes. That shy smile again. The one I’d never seen before this week. “And maybe a bit creepy, too,” she added.
Izzy smiled back.
“So,” I said. “We’ve got three superpowers and four brains. Surely between us we can figure out how to get Max back!”
Izzy cleared her throat. “Um . . .” she said.
I looked at her. “What is it?”
“I just . . . I haven’t got any powers,” she said. “I don’t really belong in the group.”
“Of course you belong!” Tom exclaimed. “It doesn’t matter if you haven’t got a superpower.”
“Are you sure?” Izzy asked. She turned to me — which was when I had a thought. A rather amazing thought — and possibly a slightly risky one, too. It had been simmering in the back of my mind for the last couple of days, but it was only as Izzy met my eyes that I fully acknowledged it as a real possibility. I glanced at my watch. We had time. And if it worked, it might even help us stand a better chance of rescuing Max.
I picked up my bag and rooted around inside. There! The bottle of serum that I hadn’t managed to return to the lab.
Tom leaned in. “What’s that?”
“It’s the serum,” I said.
“Whoa!” Heather said. “Really? Isn’t it dangerous for anyone except us?”
I shook my head.
“Why haven’t they tried it themselves, then?” asked Heather.
“They think it’s dangerous for adults. They think there’s a chance that it could have sped up Max’s mom’s death. It’s all a bit complicated, but it’s about the . . . What’s it called? The front part of the brain.”
“The frontal lobe?” Tom suggested.
“That’s it. Once the frontal lobe is fully formed, the serum can be dangerous.”
“But at our age, the brain is still in the process of forming,” Tom added, “so that means it’s not dangerous?”
“That’s right. As far as we know.” I looked at the bottle. There was hardly anything left inside it, but perhaps there would be just enough. I turned to Izzy. “It’s up to you.”
Izzy stared at the bottle. Then she held out her hand for it.
“Do you still have the crystal that Nancy gave you?” I asked.
Izzy blushed as if she’d been caught. “I . . . well, yes,” she stammered. “I mean, I’ve always known it won’t do anything, but I thought it couldn’t do any harm to wear it anyway.” She reached under her collar and pulled out a leather cord that was around her neck. Looped onto it, through its tiny hole, was the mini purple tower. The amethyst.
I held on to the bottle. “Izzy, are you sure?”
She nibbled on the end of her little finger. Then she nodded. “I’m positive,” she said. “If it’s not risky for you guys, it’s not going to be risky for me. Nancy told us there were only a few bottles left, and they still haven’t managed to re-create the original serum yet. This might be my only chance.”
“Your only chance to do what, though?” Heather asked.
Izzy turned to her and smiled. Then she opened the bottle and drank the contents. Smiling, she closed her eyes. “Watch this,” she said, “and you’ll see.”
I’m not sure which of us was the most surprised as Izzy slowly rose into the air. Tom and Heather stared open-jawed as she hovered about six inches off the floor and stayed there for five seconds before dropping back down with a bit of a stumble.
Izzy’s face was a picture of utter astonishment and delight. “It worked! It worked!” she cried. “And I feel fine!” She threw her arms around me. “Thank you so much!” she exclaimed. “You’re the best friend in the entire universe!”
As she pulled away from me, she gave us all such a big grin you’d have thought — well, I guess you’d have thought she’d just discovered she could fly.
“Izzy, how on earth could you do it right away?” I asked.
Izzy blushed. She took her glasses off and wiped the lenses.
“You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?” Tom teased as she put her glasses back on.
“Maybe just a little bit,” Izzy admitted.
I laughed.
“I don’t know how much help I can be yet,” Izzy said. “But I’ll work on it. We’ve got double history this afternoon. Jess, tell Mr. Robbins I’m sick and had to go home. I’ll do nothing but practice all afternoon so I’ll be ready to be part of Max’s rescue.”
“I’ll join you,” Tom said. “I’ve been given the afternoon off for Math Olympics practice, but this is more important.”
“Great. Heather and I have already gotten used to our powers, so we should be OK.” I checked my watch. “But only if we’ve got a plan before afternoon classes start. Otherwise, we all skip our classes and focus on this.”
“OK,” Izzy said, flipping open a notebook and popping the lid of her pen. “Let’s make a plan.”
“Bottom line,” I began. “We need to find out as much as we can about Finch — especially where he lives. Then somehow get to his house and get Max back.”
Tom was already firing up his laptop. “I’ll Google him. There must be something about him somewhere online.”
Izzy leaned across to look over Tom’s shoulder. “Good idea. Maybe his address will be there somewhere.”
Tom frowned as he scanned through pages and links. “Nope,” he said. “Nothing like that, as far as I can see. But, then, I didn’t really think there would be. Who puts their home address on the Internet?”
“How are we going to find his house, then?” Heather asked.
“Wait. Maybe we don’t need to.” I played them Max’s video again. When it finished, I looked around to see if anyone had had the same thought as me. Three blank faces stared back at me. “Finch is going to the lab at six,” I prompted them.
“We can find him there!” Tom burst out. “Follow him home.”
“What, all four of us?” Heather asked. “Without being seen?”
“Heather’s right,” Izzy said. “Jess could turn invisible, so she could get away with it, but what about the rest of us?”
Tom smiled slowly at us all. “Hang on,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”
We all listened as he explained his idea. Then we spent the final fifteen minutes of our lunch break developing and refining it until we’d come up with something that might actually stand a chance of succeeding.
By the time the bell rang again, we’d more or less gotten it sorted out. We’d completely forgotten about eating any lunch, and the afternoon was going to be filled with growly stomachs and ditching classes and practicing newly discovered powers. But that was just fine — because we had a plan.
We were going to rescue Max and stop Finch. Tonight.
Later that afternoon, Heather and I found ourselves in the unusual position of hanging out together over milk shakes. The milk shakes were fine. It was the hanging out together part that was unusual.
We’d all agreed to meet at the Corporation Street Café, around the corner from Dr. Malone’s lab. Heather and I had come straight from school. I guessed Tom and Izzy were still practicing their new powers. As Heather and I had never spent three seconds alone in each other’s company before, I prayed that the others would get here soon.
“You know. It’s weird. I’ve always wanted to do this,” Heather said as she stirred her milk shake with her straw.
I looked across at her. “Huh? You’ve always wanted to meet up with three people you barely know and discuss plans for breaking into someone’s house to rescue a boy you don’t much like?”
Heather laughed softly. “No. Not th
at. Just, well . . . I’ve always kind of wished we could hang out.”
I was glad I wasn’t sipping my drink at that point or I might have choked to death on the spot. “You — you . . .” I spluttered. “But you’re, like, Miss Super-Popular. You have half the girls in the grade trailing behind you and all the boys drooling over you.”
“Exactly,” Heather said. “Trailing and drooling. They’re not exactly the best signs of friendship. You don’t do either of those things. You always just seem to have fun. And be yourself.”
“Can’t really be anyone else,” I said, trying to hide my surprise behind a joke.
Heather played with the straw. “You know what I mean,” she said. “You don’t have to wear and say and do all the right things all the time. You don’t have to worry in case your image slips and you lose one of your followers. You don’t have to try to be perfect all the time because that’s what everyone expects from you. I like it. I guess . . . I like you. And I’m glad that we might be kind of, sort of, maybe starting to be friends.”
She stared into her milk shake. I could see the tops of her cheeks had flushed.
“Hey,” I said without stopping to think. “We’re definitely kind of, sort of, starting to be friends.”
Heather looked up and smiled. I felt my cheeks heat up a bit. Luckily, at that moment, the door opened. Tom and Izzy burst in, and I didn’t have time to dwell on why I was so pleased that Heather seemed to like me.
“All right, let’s go over it one last time,” Izzy said as she slurped her chocolate milk shake. We’d all told our parents we were studying at each other’s houses and had been discussing the finer details of our plan for the last half hour.
Tom took a bite out of his cookie. “Jess goes invisible and waits at the end of the road,” he said as if he were reciting something he’d memorized for a test. “When Jess sees Finch on his way to the lab, she texts me. I stop time, come out of hiding, and search Finch for anything with his address on it.”
“How do you know you’ll be able to stop time for long enough to search him?” Heather asked.
“I’ve done virtually nothing but practice since yesterday. I managed about five minutes earlier this afternoon with Izzy. That should easily be long enough to frisk a few pockets.”
“Just be as quick as you can, won’t you?” Izzy said.
Tom smiled. “ ’Course.”
“And you’re double-sure you can touch him while you’ve stopped time and he won’t know about it?” I asked, checking.
Tom nodded. “Yup. Tested that, too. I’m double-triple sure. It’ll all be fine, honest.”
“OK, so as soon as Tom and Jess get back here, we flag down a cab and get to Finch’s place as quick as we can,” Heather continued.
“And we cross every finger and toe we’ve got that that’s where Max is being held,” I put in. He had to be there. The idea that he could be somewhere else and we’d have no chance of finding him was unthinkable.
“Yep,” Tom agreed. “Then I ring the bell, sweet and innocent, to check that there’s no one else there,” he went on. “If anyone answers, I ask them if they’d like to donate to the Boy Scouts and we abort the plan and regroup.”
“If no one answers the door, Tom gives me a thumbs-up,” Heather put in. “Then I go through one of the walls, find the nearest door, and let the rest of you in.”
“Preferably a door around the back, so we’ll be out of sight,” I reminded her.
“Then we creep through the house as quietly as we can — just in case there is anyone there and they ignored the door,” Izzy added. “We search the house for Max and get him out.”
“And while we’re at it, we look for anything that Finch might have stolen from the lab and confiscate it,” I finished.
Foolproof.
“How long do you think Finch will wait outside the lab before he realizes the doctor’s not coming?” Heather asked.
I shrugged. “He seems like a man who knows what he wants and is determined to get it. Let’s hope that means he’ll wait.”
Tom glanced at his watch. “It’s quarter to six. You ready?”
I nodded. “Let’s get into our starting positions.”
I popped into the bathroom while the others headed outside. Once I’d turned myself invisible, I joined them. “OK, let’s go.”
“Good luck,” Izzy whispered. I grimaced nervously in reply. Not that any of them saw me.
I’d been waiting at the end of Albany Road for just over five minutes when I saw him round the corner. Oscar Finch was difficult to miss. A very tall man in an immaculate suit, walking purposefully toward the lab — and toward me.
My heart started to do a quickstep. It threw in a few pirouettes when I noticed what Finch had with him — a large German shepherd, pulling on its leash and slobbering as it showed its teeth. Even if Finch didn’t know I was here, his dog might. I grabbed my phone and, with shaking fingers, texted Tom as quickly as I could.
Finch kept walking. He was about twenty paces away from me. Tom, hurry, please!
A moment later, I saw Tom emerge from the bushes, and then — before I even knew what was happening or what had happened — Finch had walked past me and Tom was by my side. “Jess, are you there?” he whispered furiously. “It’s done. Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m here!” I whispered back. Then I held my breath and followed him as fast as I could. Had Tom done his part already? Had he stopped time? Did we have Finch’s address? Were we really going to go and save Max?
My head swam with questions as we hurried to join the others.
Five minutes later, we were in a taxi, speeding toward Finch’s house: Charlesworthy Mansion on Briary Road. The rich end of town, unsurprisingly.
“Where did you find his address, Tom?” Heather asked.
“Searched his jacket pockets. It was on his driver’s license.”
“Amazing,” Izzy breathed, looking out the window as we left the apartment buildings behind and entered wider, leafy streets with huge houses.
A couple of minutes later, we turned onto Briary Road. Charlesworthy Mansion was halfway down.
We paid the taxi driver and took in our surroundings while we watched him drive away. Whatever Finch did for a living, it was obvious that he made tons of money doing it. Charlesworthy Mansion was the biggest house I’d ever seen.
We walked for what felt like half a mile up a tree-lined drive. It led to a house that looked a bit like one of those stately homes your grandparents visit on Sunday afternoons.
Heather, Izzy, and I kept out of sight while Tom went to the door. He pressed the bell and waited. Nothing. He pressed again. Still nothing. The coast was clear. He turned in our direction and gave a thumbs-up.
Heather let out a heavy breath. “All right. My turn,” she said.
I touched her arm. “You’ll be fine,” I told her.
She gave me a nervous smile. “See you on the other side. Go to the back and — don’t forget — keep quiet once we get in the house; there might still be someone inside.”
With that, she followed a path to the side of the building, glanced around — and then walked through the side wall into Finch’s house.
I stared after her for a moment. I mean, I’d had time to get used to my own powers, but it was still a bit weird watching someone else use theirs.
“Come on.” Tom shook me out of my thoughts. I joined him and Izzy, and we ran around to the back of the house. We were in luck. Finch had a back door that was completely hidden from view. A second later, there was a rustling sound on the other side. I prayed that it wasn’t an unexpected houseguest.
It wasn’t. Heather opened the door, and we hurried into the house.
We stood in the hallway and looked around. It was like the foyer of a fancy hotel.
“Now what?” Heather asked in a whisper. “Where do we start?”
We looked blankly at one another. I mean, it was all very well having a plan, but now that we were actually insi
de Finch’s house, it didn’t feel quite so straightforward.
I took charge. “We try every door,” I whispered back. “Tom and Izzy, you take the first floor. Heather and I will take the second floor. If anyone sees anything, come and get the others, and we’ll all deal with it together. OK?”
The others nodded.
Izzy checked her watch. “It’s quarter past six already. We still don’t know how long Finch will wait, but I figure we’ve got half an hour, tops.”
Heather was already halfway up the stairs. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get looking.”
The first couple of doors we tried looked like guest bedrooms — perfectly made beds, polished surfaces, and nothing that seemed of any interest to us at all.
We moved on to a door at the far end of the corridor. Heather reached for the door handle, and we peeked inside. Still no Max. It looked like Finch’s office. A huge desk ran the length of one wall, with a photocopier at the end; filing cabinets and cupboards lined the other.
“This stuff looks important,” Heather said. “Have we got time to check it out?”
“Not really,” I said. Then I glanced at the desk. It was overflowing with piles of papers covered in charts and graphs and lists. What if he’d stolen them from the lab? What was the point in rescuing Max if Finch had enough information to figure out what was going on and pose a threat to us forever?
“OK, let’s take just one minute,” I said. “Grab everything that looks relevant and then move on.”
I picked up a handful of papers. I was right! This was definitely research from the lab! There were more papers stacked up across his desk. I took those, too. Finch had stolen all of Dr. Malone’s notes! My blood started to bubble inside me. How dare he!
I was snatching up paperwork, scrunching and folding it and shoving it in my school bag, when Heather stopped me. “Jess,” she said.
I looked up.
Heather was holding an identical bottle to the one I’d given to Izzy. The serum!
“It was under some papers,” she said.
I paused for a millisecond. “Take it,” I said firmly. “This man is dangerous. He already got the research notes and the serum. It won’t take long for him to join the dots and find out about all of us. You saw the video. You heard his threats to Max. I heard him on the phone in the lab. He’ll want to experiment on us. He will sell anything and everything to whoever offers him the most money. This man is evil and dangerous, and we have to stop him.”