The Dominion Key (6 page)

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Authors: Lee Bacon

BOOK: The Dominion Key
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“Take your time,” said Milton, kicking back on the sofa. He plucked the remote off a foldout table beside him and flipped on the TV. “We’ll be fine.”

Sophie popped a frozen pizza into the microwave and we cracked open a few drinks from the fridge. After the stress of the past two days, it was great to just relax and watch a little brainless TV. Even Elliot joined us, taking a seat on the sofa and munching on a pizza box.

The game show switched to a live shot of a news reporter. She was holding a microphone and standing in front of a building that was roped off with police tape.

“I’m coming to you live from the headquarters of Pulse Dynamics …,” the reporter began.


Boring
!” Milton reached for the remote.

Miranda batted his hand away. “Hold on!”

“… the site of a stunning burglary,” the reporter continued. “Two culprits allegedly broke into the high-security facility and stole a Platinum-Sealed Alpha Capacitor—”

I nearly fell off the sofa. Scrambling sideways, I reached into my pocket and dug out the paper that had fallen out of nFinity’s shoulder pouch.

PLATINUM-SEALED ALPHA CAPACITOR
NEUTRON FLOW REVERSAL CHAMBER
OSCILLATING PARTICLE IMMOBILIZER
THE DOMINION KEY

“Guys!” I said. “The Platinum-Sealed Alpha Capacitor—that’s on nFinity’s list!”

“But what is it?” Sophie asked. “What does it—”

“Shhh!” Miranda pointed at the TV.

“We have obtained exclusive security footage from the facility.” The live feed of the reporter disappeared, replaced by grainy black-and-white video of two people.

I recognized them immediately.

“They’re the ones who attacked us at the food court!”

I leaned closer to the TV. There was no mistaking the two figures in the security footage: The girl with the pixie haircut. And her massive cement friend.

“Grifter and Lunk,” Milton said. “But what do they want with a Platypus-Stuffed Alphabet Container?”

“It’s a Platinum-Sealed Alpha Capacitor,” Miranda corrected. “They must’ve stolen it for nFinity.”

“Which means they’re really working for Vex,” Sophie said.

Just hearing the name made my insides curl. After nearly dying, Phineas Vex had bribed and threatened the world’s top scientists and engineers to build him a bionic body that wouldn’t just keep him alive, it would make him
invincible
. And unfortunately, I’d been one of the first to see it in action.
Ten feet tall, bulging with body armor and equipped with more devious gadgetry than you can imagine, the suit gave Vex the powers of the world’s most fearsome villains.

But what did he want with the items on nFinity’s list?

Dad must’ve seen the worry in my face. Taking a seat on the sofa beside me, he said, “Don’t let it get you too upset. Supervillains are always scheming to track down dangerous technology. It’s part of our job description.”

“Your father has a point,” Mom added. “I discovered a list like that when I took your father’s coat to the dry cleaner the other day. You shouldn’t make too much of it.”

“But this is Vex we’re talking about.”

“Tell you what. As soon as we get back, your mother and I will do some asking around. See if anyone in the villain community has heard anything about any of these items.”

“Uh … speaking of the villain community”—Milton was peering through the windows with a fearful expression—“looks like we’ve got visitors.”

Two men in tights were crossing the parking lot in the direction of our bus. The first was wearing a swamp-green uniform that was stretched to the breaking point over his bulging stomach. The man beside him was thin and ragged, outfitted in an orange one-piece that made him look like a deflated pumpkin.

“Do you think they’re working for Vex too?” Sophie asked.

My mom shook her head. “No way Vex would hire these two rejects. They look more like D-Listers to me.”

“D-Listers?”

“The bottom of the barrel in the supervillain world. The worst of the worst—and not in a good way.”

“D-Listers are wannabes,” Dad explained. “People who lack the talent to make it as big-time villains but keep trying anyway.”

“They turn up at high-profile events like this, hoping to get the attention of everyone who came out to see Captain Justice and Scarlett Flame. Most of the time, they’re too chicken to actually engage big-name superheroes in a fight. They’re just looking to do something that will get their picture in
Super Scoop
.”

“In other words, meaningless self-promotion,” Dad sneered. “No skill, no finesse.”

Miranda pressed a finger to her temple, concentrating. “The guy in the ugly orange spandex calls himself Bubble Boy.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Sophie said sarcastically.

“And the guy in green goes by the name StinkBomb. His power is … well, you’ll smell it in a second.”

“Smell
what
?” Milton sniffed. “I don’t smell any—” Suddenly, Milton’s nose wrinkled and his eyes began to water. “Okay, now I—
ACK!
—get what you mean.”

“Ugh!” Sophie clapped a hand over her nose. “That’s horrible!”

At first, I had no idea what they were talking about. And then it hit me. A putrefying wave of stink. Like a skunk with a really bad case of indigestion had just climbed onto the bus. It was the worst thing I’d ever
smelled in my life. And I’ve been in the boys’ locker room on Taco Tuesday.

By now, everyone was coughing and gagging. While I struggled to breathe without choking on the stink fumes, Sophie staggered across the bus. She pulled open drawers and cabinet doors, knocking down bags of chips and cans of instant coffee until she found what she was looking for.

“Gas masks,” she said, tossing one to each of us. “Let’s hope they work against really nasty smells too!”

Holding my breath, I fastened the rubber mask over my nose and mouth. Once it was tightly secured, I inhaled and … the stink was gone.

“I’m glad we’ve solved our odor problem,” I said, my voice muffled by the mask. “But what do we do about
them
?” I pointed out the window. The D-Lister duo was getting closer.

“Just like your parents said—they’re here for attention.” Miranda focused on the two men, her eyes narrowing. “They aren’t here for a fight. They came for … something else. They’re planning to do something to the bus.”

“You mean the bus we’re currently sitting in?” Milton adjusted his mask nervously. “The bus we’re not allowed to leave?”

“You may be confined to the bus,” Dad said. “But we’re not.”

My parents were in their “civilian” clothes, which meant nobody would recognize them as the Dread Duo if they stepped outside—especially with gas masks covering their faces. But since they didn’t have their uniforms, they also
didn’t have most of their gear. Luckily, they’d packed some deadly weapons for the drive.

Dad scrambled out of his seat, glancing at Mom. “Honey, where’d you put my portable plasma refractometer?”

“Check my handbag.”

Dad stumbled across the bus and grabbed Mom’s bag. I watched through the window as the villain who called himself Bubble Boy thrust out his arms. A quivering sphere took shape between his hands, drifting in our direction.

“Ooh, real scary!” Milton snickered through his gas mask. “The big bad villain just blew a bubble at us!”

But this was no ordinary bubble. The closer it got to us, the more it expanded, like a balloon inflating in midair. Soon it was enormous—bigger than any bubble I’d ever seen. By the time it reached my window it was twice the size of the tour bus. The edge of the bubble pressed against the glass. And then—

Flooop!

Just like that, the bus was
inside
the bubble. I felt a gentle floating movement as the bus rose into the air.

Dad was too busy rummaging through Mom’s handbag to notice that we were drifting higher and higher. “I can never find anything in this—AAAGH!”

Okay,
now
he noticed.

“We’re inside the bubble!” he shrieked.

“Duh!” Milton yelled back. “Can’t you do something?”

Dad clenched his jaw. “Yes. Of course.” He turned Mom’s handbag upside down. Everything fell onto the
floor. Sunglasses, a pen, a bottle of water. And a portable plasma refractometer.

Dad grabbed the device and sprang to his feet. He started for the door but didn’t get very far. The bus lurched and he stumbled into a counter.

Elliot swung his extendable arms like a kid on a roller coaster. “This is fuuun!”

Staring out the window, I watched the inner surface of the bubble glisten and wobble. Beyond that, it was like looking up from the bottom of a swimming pool. The world outside our floating bubble had become a smear of blobs and colorful shapes.

I could still see the vague forms of Bubble Boy and StinkBomb on the ground. Two squiggly figures getting smaller and smaller as we drifted higher and higher.

Miranda gasped. “Their plan,” she said in a strained voice. “The D-Listers are going to float the bus out over the stage where Captain Justice and Scarlett Flame are performing for the crowd. And then …”

I didn’t need superpowered intuition to know what would come next. I could see it in Miranda’s expression. The bubble pops. The bus falls. Hundreds of people injured or killed.

“I might have a solution.” Pulling off her gas mask, Mom climbed to her feet. She clutched the wall for support as she moved closer to where Dad was standing. “On the count of three, I want you to blast the inside of the bubble with the refractometer.”

“You sure about that, honey?” Dad asked.

Mom nodded. My parents had worked together long enough—that was all the explanation Dad needed.

“Okay, then,” he said. “On three.”

“Hang on a second.” Milton looked around uncertainly. “Have you
seen
how high we are right now? There’s no way we’d survive a fall.”

“You’re going to have to trust us, Milton,” Dad commanded, as Mom began to count.

“One …”

“Uh … guys.” My voice cracked. “I have to say, I’m with Milton here. This seems kind of dangerous. Isn’t there some other way?”

“Your mother has a plan,” Dad said. “Now, I recommend everyone find a secure place and hold on tight.”

“Two …”

My heart was performing a drum solo in my chest. Sweat trickled down my forehead. In the front, Stanley checked his seat belt and Elliot buzzed with excitement. I looked at Miranda, wondering if she already knew how this was going to turn out, but she was too busy scrambling for a better handhold to give any predictions. Sophie was on the other side of me, gripping the edge of the sofa. A faint glow radiated from her skin—a sign that heightened emotions had triggered her Gyft. When she caught my eye, there was something in her expression that made me think things weren’t quite as bad as they could’ve been. As if to say,
Sure, we’re about to plummet to our deaths, but at least we’re together
.

I gripped the back of the sofa until my knuckles turned white. Mom called out—

“Three!”

Dad fired the refractometer. A flash of red. Followed by a sudden—

POP!

The bubble exploded around us. For a split second, the bus seemed to hover in midair. Then gravity took over and we began to fall.

AAAGGHH!

That was what went through my head as our Tour Bus of Death tumbled toward the earth. My arms were clamped around the back of the sofa, but my legs flew out behind me. The world was a blur. Screams filled the bus. I shut my eyes tight, preparing for impact. But instead, the bus came to a gentle stop. It felt like we’d landed on the world’s biggest feather mattress.

My eyes flickered open. The bus was suspended a hundred feet in the air by a tangle of roots. Vegetation wrapped around the bus like tentacles. Peering through the window, I could see where the parking lot had cracked far below and the roots had burst from the earth to catch us.

So
that
was my mom’s plan. Mom was also known as the Botanist; her superpower gave her the ability to control plants. I’d seen her ensnare superheroes in the branches of
trees and use vines to do her bidding. But I’d never witnessed her power on such a huge scale.

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