The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe (30 page)

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.

“Could they have flown through this?” Derek wondered.

Roman glared at the deadly obstacles for a moment. “No way. Even at top speed, we’ll have a tough time. If they had tried, they’d be splattered all over the walls.”

“I think you’re right,” Summer said, trying to hide her disappointment. Even with everything three or four times slower than usual, some of the blades were moving quite fast. She couldn’t see a route she would take to fly through the sharp-edged maze. Nate almost certainly didn’t have the Protector. She would have to find a way to deliver it.

“Then we just need to claim our prize,” Roman said.

“Might not be easy,” Ruth remarked.

Roman grunted his agreement. “No point in all of us risking it. Should we draw straws?”

“I’ll do it,” Summer said. If she had possession of the Protector, she might find a chance to get it to Nate.

“Really,” Roman said, impressed. “You’re volunteering?”

Summer shrugged. “I’ve always liked a challenge. I’m a Tank. At worst I’ll get pushed around a little.”

Roman eyed the frenetic corridor. “I don’t know, Summer. I wouldn’t want to test myself against those mashers down at the end.”

“Or some of those blades,” Derek added. “They look sharp and they’re swinging hard.”

“I wouldn’t ride through there in an actual tank,” Ruth said.

“I get it,” Summer said. “I’m not thrilled about the risk. But we need the Protector. At top speed I bet I can dodge everything.”

“Okay,” Roman said. “Be careful.”

“Give me a second to recover,” Summer said. “We shouldn’t have run here so quickly.”

“Take your time,” Roman said. “Ruth, go watch the entrance. Make sure the Jets don’t try to sneak up on us.”

“Sure,” Ruth said. Summer watched her walk away, her shoulders hunched. Ruth rarely spoke much. She always followed whatever Roman told her.

“I’ll come help out if you get into trouble,” Roman said, patting Summer’s arm.

“We’ll be watching your back,” Derek pledged.

Summer stared down the deadly corridor. She felt like she had most of her energy back. When she switched into her fastest mode, the frenzy of blades and spears slowed. Nothing was terribly fast now, and many things were comically slow. Some stretches of the corridor still appeared dangerous, but now it seemed survivable.

She started forward. At first she advanced diagonally, zigzagging down the corridor, navigating from one side to the other while stepping over blades and dodging razor pendulums. Then she reached a portion of the hall riddled with holes. Spears thrust from the walls, ceiling, and floors fast enough to make her dance forward in a precarious rush. Twisting, sliding, and leaping, she narrowly avoided sharp points as they came up from below, down from above, and sideways from all heights.

The next stretch of the obstacle course became a mix of everything. Slow pendulum blades got in the way as other blades scythed out from the walls and floors. Jack-in-the-box spikes continued to poke at her in unpredictable rhythms. Axes swung back and forth menacingly.

At their seemingly reduced speed, any one of the obstacles would have been avoidable, but together they made Summer duck, jump, dodge, and contort as never before. The result felt like a wild game of hopscotch and dodge ball all at once. Breathing hard, Summer relied on instinct and reflex. She felt out of control as she spun, rolled, and lunged. Her progress slowed as the increasing onslaught of obstacles forced her to skip backward or focus on lateral movements rather than advance.

A blade nicked her shoulder, slicing her sleeve but not her skin. A spear grazed her leg, tearing her jeans. Staying at top speed was making her weary. After jumping a curved blade, she fell to one knee, and a spear poked her square in the shoulder, jolting her sideways into a sweeping blade that flung her forward.

Summer ended up on her hands and knees. Before she could recover, a spike from the wall hit her in the side of the head, rolling her onto her back. None of the blows had broken skin, but they felt like hard punches, and they left her unbalanced.

Summer could feel exhaustion setting in. She worried that if she remained at top speed, she might pass out. Rising to her feet, Summer shifted down into race mode.

Everything sped up around her. The formerly slow pendulums became a threat, and everything else became too quick to process. Summer skipped forward a couple of steps before she started getting hit from what seemed like all directions at once. Her body flopped around the corridor. It was like being caught in a stampede. There was no dodging anymore. She just closed her eyes and tucked her head as her body was mercilessly hammered. She was heaved forward and backward until she lost all sense of which direction was which.

Finally she came to a rest, flat on her back. Blades whirled above her. Spears protruded and retracted near her. But nothing was currently striking her.

Summer downshifted out of race mode, and everything sped up even more. Still nothing hit her. She had found a safe little pocket in the midst of all the chaos.

“Are you all right?” Roman called, his voice faint due to the surrounding commotion. “Want us to come after you?”

“I’m okay,” Summer managed. She was over halfway through the inhospitable hallway. She wasn’t bleeding. She felt pummeled and dizzy, but she didn’t think anything was broken. “I found a quiet place. I need to rest for a minute.”

Slowly her breathing returned to normal. Her clothes were tattered—her jeans had lost most of one leg, and both of her sleeves hung in shredded ribbons. At least her body was holding up.

Pressing her cheek to the floor, Summer closed her eyes. She needed to let herself fully recover from running at top speed or she would end up getting battered again. There was no big hurry. In fact, the delay was probably just what Nate needed. It would give him time to strategize how to steal the Protector from the Tanks.

Mostly unaware of the passing time, Summer paid attention to how her body was feeling. The dizziness passed. Her heart rate lowered. Her breathing slowed. Still she waited.

“Are you awake?” Derek asked. It was hard to hear him over the pounding pillars and noisy devices all around.

“If we hadn’t run so much at top speed for no reason, I wouldn’t need a break,” Summer replied.

“We’re just making sure you’re all right,” Roman said. She didn’t think that was completely true. They were getting impatient.

“You’re welcome to go get it,” Summer said. “I can just come back.”

“You’re doing great,” Roman said.

“Did it hurt?” Derek called.

“It was like getting punched and tackled a lot,” Summer said. “I felt it, but I didn’t get cut or break any bones. I’m not even very sore anymore.”

“You were really getting thrown around,” Roman said.

“I could tell,” Summer replied. “I’m almost ready to try again.”

She took deep breaths, trying to gauge how rested she felt. It seemed like she was mostly recovered. She was almost two-thirds of the way down the corridor. She figured she had enough energy to at least make it to the end.

Summer shifted into race mode. Everything slowed. She shifted up to her fastest state, and everything slowed again.

She rolled forward, then rose to her knees. After leaning back to avoid a spear, she regained her feet and dashed forward. Once again she skipped, hopped, ducked, and dodged her way onward, feeling slightly calmer with the knowledge that even if she got hit, she should survive the beating.

Up ahead, a brutal series of pillars pummeled the ground. Even at her top speed, they moved pretty fast. Each struck with tremendous force. Summer did not want to test her Tank stamp against a direct hit. The relentless pillars looked strong enough to squash anything into a pancake.

As Summer twisted, shuffled, and jumped, the mashing pillars drew closer. Four pillars wide and twenty pillars deep, the crushing section of the corridor never held still. It was hard to identify a pattern in the constant motion.

A blow that clipped her shoulder made Summer stagger when she reached the pillars. A heavy column of stone slammed down beside her. As it lifted up, she stepped underneath it, barely avoiding a pillar that boomed down onto her previous position.

Keeping her eyes up, Summer zigzagged forward, columns thundering down to the left and right, ahead and behind. Toward the end she dove, rolling out onto the stone floor beyond the reach of the pitiless columns.

No obstacles remained ahead of her. At the end of the corridor, a small statue awaited in an alcove. The floor vibrated each time a column crashed down behind her. She had survived. She returned to regular race mode.

Summer thought she could hear Roman or Derek yelling at her, but with the pounding pillars so close, she couldn’t make out any words. Standing, she took a moment to examine the punctures and tears in her ragged clothing. Then she walked to the end of the hall.

In the alcove stood a statue of a shirtless warrior, less than a foot tall. Squat and broad, he had thick limbs, large feet, and a cartoonishly oversized head. His eyes lacked irises or pupils; his nose was broad, his ears small. He was slightly crouched, his legs together, and he held a club in each fist.

Summer looked around. The corridor ended here. “You must be the Protector,” she said.

The statue offered no response. Behind her, the pillars continued to batter the floor.

She found the statue quite light. Of course, with the tank stamp, she was considerably stronger than usual, making it tricky to guess how much the statue might normally weigh.

Turning, she faced the booming columns. The thought of running back through the frantic gauntlet was disheartening. She would need to rest again before attempting the return trip.