Down to the Wire (16 page)

The burglar took off his vest, too. He slid to a split, grasped his left calf, and flattened his upper body along the length of his leg. He rolled under a laser not more than eight inches from the floor.

I cringed.
That
had to hurt.

Extending his arms above his head, Wirenut leapt up and dove through a laser opening about six feet off the ground. He landed on the other side.

I caught my breath.
Wow.

Still in a split, the burglar tilted his body a tiny bit. He curved his left leg forward, his right leg back, and lifted up with his hands. Hovering a few inches from the tile, he rotated like a slow-motion windmill through the crisscrossed lasers.

I blinked.
This guy’s good.

From his handstand position, Wirenut lowered himself inch by inch, bowing backward, slinking beneath a laser. Halfway under he paused, tucked in his left arm, and balanced his entire body on his right hand. Carefully, he crept the rest of the way, using only his fingers to crawl forward.

My jaw dropped. I had no idea Wirenut was that strong.

The burglar stood pencil straight. Lasers zigzagged all around him, literally a millimeter’s width from frying him. I scrutinized him and the lasers and couldn’t see an opening anywhere.

In a flash, he moved. Jumping, spinning, flipping. Landing in a tight little ball. He flinched and hissed in a breath. His black bodysuit spread open on his lower back. A thin stream of blood trickled out. One of the lasers had gotten him.

I gritted my teeth.
Ow.

Squatted down, Wirenut swept his left leg around. He pushed up, spun, and caught air on a scissors kick, then corkscrewed through a diamond-shaped opening.

I smiled.
Bruiser would be so proud.

The burglar shot forward at an angle, shoved off the wall with his boots, and back-flipped to the fireplace. Right in front of the sword.

I snapped my focus to Wirenut.

One single wall of interwoven lasers separated him from the other guy and the sword. The burglar straightened; he pulled his shoulders back in a lazy stretch, obviously showing off the fact he’d made it to the fireplace first.

Wirenut thrust his arm through an opening, gripped the burglar’s throat, and yanked him forward. The burglar went very still, barely breathing.

With dozens of skin-sizzling lasers between them, Wirenut held the burglar inches from his face. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The burglar didn’t respond.

“Why are you imitating me?”

No response.

“Do you work for Zorba?”

No response.

Wirenut pulled him a threatening fraction closer, and my stomach contracted.

“No,” TL commanded. “Do not harm him.”

Wirenut reached through with his other hand and ripped away the burglar’s hood.

I gasped.
Katarina?

All the zigzagging lasers flicked off. Immediately, a green glow encompassed the two of them, trapping them together.

A door hidden in the wall slid open, and a tall, olive-skinned man dressed in a white suit stepped out.

He bowed, all proper. “Good evening. I am Octavias Zorba. So nice of everyone to come.”

Oh, my God. Wirenut’s uncle.

I shot a quick glance at Wirenut. He stood frozen, staring through the green glow at his uncle.

Octavias tapped his black cane to the floor, pleasantly stern. “Now, let’s see who everyone is. Remove your hoods.”

I looked at TL. He didn’t acknowledge me, just kept his focus level on Mr. Zorba.

Seconds rolled by, and nobody moved.

Octavias sighed, dramatically put out. “All right then. If you
insist.” He pointed his cane at TL. “This button right here,” he tapped the silver handle, “will activate the paralysis cathode.”

Oh, crap.
A paralysis cathode could be dialed to severity, either rendering someone unconscious or paralyzed for seconds or putting him in a coma for days.

Octavias pressed the button.

TL dropped to the ground.

I sucked in a breath. “T-TL.”

I scrambled the few feet to him, fumbled with his wet suit and hood, searching for his neck and a pulse.

TL’s eyes flew open, and I jumped back.

With obvious discomfort, he sat up. “Do what he says,” he rasped.

He took his hood off, and we followed his lead. “Stan?” Katarina whispered.

They stared into each other’s eyes, not moving, confusion and betrayal evident in both their faces. My heart broke for the two of them.

Wirenut looked at her. “You…”

She didn’t answer, just dropped her head in shame.

Octavias tapped his cane. “Do it.” His tone wasn’t so pleasant now.

Katarina shook her head.

“I said,” he barely moved his lips, “do it.”

She lifted a distressed gaze to Octavias. “I can’t, Papa. I know him.”

Papa?

What the…?

That meant Wirenut and Katarina were cousins?

Octavias pointed his cane at me, and my heart nearly stopped. “Do it.”

Do what? Somebody do something. I don’t want that thing pointed at me.

With a worried, indecisive glance my way, Katarina tenderly cradled Wirenut’s face in her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, a tear slipping down her cheek.

She went up on her tiptoes and softly pressed her lips to his.

The green glow dissipated, and Katarina stepped away.

Groaning through a grimace, Wirenut hunched forward, gripping his stomach. Seconds later he slumped to his knees. TL and I moved, and Octavias shook his cane, emphasizing he still had it pointed at us.

Helplessly, we watched Wirenut. Quivers began to spasm his body, little jerks, as though somebody were shocking him.

Or had poisoned him.

The kiss.

I glared at Katarina. “What did you do?”

She peeled a clear film from her lips. “Arsenic mouth tape.”

My stomach dropped.

Katarina avoided my gaze. “It won’t kill him.”

“How could you?” I said, staring at her.

She raced across the room and disappeared through the door Octavias had come from.

Wirenut fell to his side. Foamy spit seeped out of his mouth as his spasming body morphed into an all-out seizure.

“Stop it!” I screamed at Octavias.

He sneered.

Lifting his cane, he pressed a button, and the tile opened beneath me.

I sailed into darkness.

[10]

Slowly, carefully,
I opened my eyes, cringing from the invasion of a little light into my skull.

My entire head throbbed, like someone had crawled inside it and banged my brain with a sledgehammer.

Shutting my eyes, I didn’t move, allowing myself to regain consciousness naturally. Like TL had taught me to.

Hone in on your senses, he’d told me.

I focused on taste first, moving my tongue around my mouth. Dry. A little puffy. Other than an obvious need for water, nothing out of the ordinary.

I moved to my nose next, inhaling. My nostrils flared at the subtle scent of incense burning somewhere.

I switched to my ears. Silence. No, wait…breathing. Someone else was breathing.

My head lifted…then fell.

Lifted…then fell.

I’m lying on someone’s stomach, I realized, as my head lifted again with the sound of the breath.

I opened my eyes again, relieved the sledgehammer in my brain had eased.

Above me stretched a wood ceiling. Shadows played across it in the dimly lit room, as though a candle flickered nearby. Maybe the incense was really scented wax.

My arms were beneath me. My legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. I tried a tiny movement and failed.

Tied. Just as I expected.

I wiggled my numb, cool fingers and twisted my wrists. It felt like metal ties bound me, not rope or tape. A chain maybe? Or steel band?

“Stay still,” a voice spoke.

TL.
I breathed a sigh of contentment. Amazing how much a familiar, trusted voice can calm you.

“You took a hard hit to the head when you fell.”

“Guess that explains the sledgehammer in my brain.”

He chuckled, and my head bounced (
ow
) with his stomach’s movement. At least I knew whose belly I was on now.

I moved my tongue around, trying to work up saliva. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere in the mansion.”

“Are you tied up?”

“Yes. Different than you, though. I’m shackled to the floor. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m certain we’re booby-trapped.”

I rolled my head and eyes just enough to the left to see his face. “Can I get up?”

“Try. Carefully.”

Slowly rotating toward him, I smooshed my face into his
side, using it for leverage to push myself to my knees.

Suddenly, the chains began to crank. TL groaned.

“Oh, my God. Did I do that?” The release of my weight must have triggered the booby trap.

They clanked to a stop.

“It’s okay,” he breathed.

Still dressed in his wet suit, TL lay spread-eagled on the cement. Chains coming from holes in the floor restrained each arm and leg separately, pulling them tight, like a medieval torturing device.

I looked up then, straight into Wirenut’s eyes, and sucked in a breath.

Like TL, Wirenut was shackled spread-eagle. But to the wall instead of the floor. He stared wide-eyed, unblinking, into space. His relaxed mouth and unfocused gaze told me he lacked consciousness. His expanding and contracting chest proved he was breathing.

Thank God.

I looked down at TL. “What happened?”

“Right after you dropped through the floor, Zorba hit me with the paralysis cathode again. I woke up here, chained, Wirenut on the wall, you on my stomach.”

“How long have we been here?”

Lifting his head, TL nodded across the room. “Clock on the wall.”

It read five. We’d entered the mansion at one in the morning.
We’d been here four hours. And the two people I counted on the most were locked up with me. The only chance of rescue was…“Nalani?”

“GiGi,” TL sighed. “There’s nothing she can do. This mansion is locked down tight. You know that. You saw what we went through to get in. If it weren’t for Wirenut, we
wouldn’t
have gotten in. She’s not coming. She’s waiting for us on the boat where she dropped us.”

I squeezed my eyes closed as the realization of our situation hit me hard. Wirenut chained. TL chained. Me bound.

No one’s coming.
No one’s coming.

Fear rocked my body, and my muscles tensed.

We’re going to die.

“GiGi,” TL snapped, and my eyes shot open.

He pierced me with one of his lethal glares. “We do not have time for you to get scared. You have to focus. You’re the only one mobile. Do you understand?”

I jerked my head into a nod.

“Now shift your legs, flex your muscles, see if your tool belt is still strapped to your thigh.”

Blowing out a shaky breath, I did as TL said. “Yes.”

“Good.” TL nodded. “Now that you’re awake, you’ve got a better view than me. Describe the room.”

I glanced around, consciously forcing my fear aside. “About a forty-by-twenty rectangle. Brick walls. Cement floor. Wood-beam ceiling. Two-foot-tall candle lit in each corner,
encased by an urn.” I nodded to my right. “That wall is covered with photos and newspaper clippings.”

TL rolled his head back to see. “Photos of what?”

I squinted. “Can’t tell.”

“Move closer. Cautiously. Stop as soon as you can make it out.”

With my eyes glued to the wall, I scooted my knees over the cement. Right, then left. Right, then left. Inch by inch I shuffled away from TL and across the room.

I stopped and sucked in a breath. My eyes bounced from one picture to the next. “They’re all of Wirenut. At different ages. Everything from a baby to a boy to now.”
How weird.

“Are they posed?”

“No. They’re candid snapshots of everyday life. Walking into a home, playing on a swing, coming out of school. Pictures of houses, buildings, and other people, too.”

“Looks like Zorba’s been keeping up with his nephew.”

“Yeah, this place is like a shrine.”

“What are the newspaper clippings?”

I squinted, studied each one. “They’re about the Ghost. I’d say there’s three dozen. From all over the world.” Wirenut had international fame. “Guess Zorba knows Wirenut and the Ghost are one and the same.”

Wirenut moaned, and I jerked around. His eyelids dropped. Groggily, he tried to move.

“Stay still,” TL instructed. “You’re alive. GiGi and I are right
here with you. You’re chained up. Don’t fight it. Focus on your surroundings. Block the…”

While TL continued calmly coaching Wirenut to consciousness, I knee-shuffled back across the room.

Wirenut opened his eyes and looked straight at me.

I smiled a little. I didn’t think I’d ever been so relieved to see another person awake in my entire life.

He tried to smile back, but it came out as more of a lip twitch. He looked so exhausted I wanted to hug him.