Arcade Catastrophe Page 63


“It’s all true,” Lindy said. “I know about it too. To make matters worse, Jonas White is also making the kids from the losing clubs disappear. His people may tell us they gave them special assignments, but what are nonmagical kids going to do? And why would the kids completely vanish?”

“What do you want us to do?” Chris asked.

“We need to stop Jonas from getting Uweya,” Nate said. “He’s a bad guy, and it’s really powerful. If he succeeds, it won’t just be bad for us. It’ll be bad for the whole area. Maybe even the whole world.”

“Mr. White has those simulacra of us,” Risa said. “How could we fight him?”

“We’ll have to worry about that later,” Nate said. “First I need to know whether I can count on you. I haven’t told you guys much about this yet because I couldn’t risk you warning Mr. White. But I can’t be careful anymore. We’re running out of time. The powers Jonas White gave us are fun, but once he has what he wants, he’ll get rid of us. He’s not our friend.”

“I believe you, Nate,” Chris said. “It makes a lot of things make sense. Is Lindy a magician too? Is that why she sees so well?”

Lindy shook her head. “I have a fake eye. The magician who Jonas captured gave it to me. It sees better than a normal eye.”

“Risa?” Nate asked.

“I’ll help,” she said. “I was stressed he might be evil ever since I saw my wax twin.”

“We have to get the Protector from the Tanks,” Nate said. “Summer is on our side, but she doesn’t think she can get the other Tanks to turn against Mr. White. Which means if we want to stop him, we first need to beat the Tanks.”

“Do you have a plan?” Chris asked.

“I think so,” Nate said. “It depends on what supplies we can find in time.”

He started flying back toward the entrance of the magical structure. The others followed. They emerged onto the slope of Angel Island, with a prime view of the San Francisco skyline.

“Oh, no,” Lindy said in a loud whisper. “We need to hide. The Tanks are on the island, coming straight toward us. They’re almost here!”

*****

“This way!” Roman said excitedly, his eyes on the little compass that pointed toward Nate’s bracelet. “We have to catch up before they get it!”

Summer glanced at her compass, which was attuned to Lindy. As they ran along the slope, the needle swiveled more than ever, forcing more frequent course corrections, which meant they had to be close. She worried that Nate hadn’t had enough time to get the Protector. Roman had made an educated guess, and it was about to pay off.

While studying the map before the challenge began, Roman had pointed out Angel Island almost immediately. “They know we’re in a car. They like the water and we don’t. It’s not far from Yerba Buena Island. Jonas left it as an option. If I were them, and the chest was heavy, I’d go there.”

“And if the chest isn’t heavy?” Derek had challenged.

“We lose,” Roman said. “They’ll fly it someplace really far. We’ll still try to track them down, but I bet we won’t make it.”

And so when the competition had started, Roman had directed the driver to head straight to Tiburon. The town of Tiburon occupied a peninsula that ended less than a mile from Angel Island. The Tanks had crossed the Bay Bridge, then passed over the Golden Gate Bridge, continuing until they reached Tiburon and drove to the end of the peninsula.

At the tip of the peninsula, their compasses had pointed toward Angel Island. Derek had talked about stealing a boat, but Roman had insisted they couldn’t risk the attention. Instead they swam across the gap to Angel Island. As Tanks, they were heavier than normal, but between her increased speed and her enhanced strength, Summer had found that she could swim a little better than usual. The others had felt the same way. Even so, the crossing had been scary in the dark. But they had made it, and now, clothes dripping, they were closing in on the Jets.

“Whoa,” Ruth said. “They’re moving.”

“My compass is going nuts too,” Derek said.

“My needle is turning too quickly,” Roman said. “They must be nearby, in the air.” He frantically looked skyward.

Summer looked up as well. She saw no flying kids in the moonlight. They would probably be hard to see unless they crossed directly in front of the moon. “Do they have the Protector?” she asked.

“If they do, we lost,” Roman growled, increasing to maximum speed.

Summer and the other Tanks sped up to stay with him. Being a Tank gave Summer extra strength and endurance, but she still felt the draining effects of running at top speed. She did not expect she could keep it up for more than a minute or two without getting totally wiped out.

Roman had stopped, and she came to a standstill beside him. He was facing a strange stone building that protruded from the slope. A miniature replica of the building jutted from the slope in front of the open bronze door. They shifted down to race mode.

“Looks like they came and went,” said Summer, feeling huge relief at the thought that the Jets might be under way with the Protector in their care.

Roman looked down at his compass. “They didn’t fly toward Arcadeland. At least not Nate. He went back toward Tiburon.”

“Risa too,” Ruth said.

“And Chris,” Derek chimed in. “Maybe we scared them off. Maybe they’re running.”

“The Racers tried the same thing,” Roman said. “Once they saw us coming, they let us do the hard part, then tried to steal the prize. Let’s hope the Jets are equally stupid. Come on.”

Roman led the way into the long hallway. Summer could see light glimmering toward the end of the passage.

“What is this place doing here?” Derek wondered.

“It must have something to do with the chest,” Roman said. “Maybe the chest led them here. This building sure doesn’t seem to belong.”

“Hear that?” Summer asked.

“Are those drums?” Roman wondered.

“Not just drums,” Derek said. “Listen.”

“Let’s check it out,” Roman said.

They charged down the hall at top speed. By the time they reached the corner, Summer was breathing hard. Shifting down to race mode, she stared in amazement at the assortment of whirling blades, stabbing spikes, and pounding pillars.

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