The Genius Files #4 (19 page)

“Why would you keep a backscratcher inside your pants leg?” Pep asked.

“Yeah,
do
complain!” Coke scolded her. “You never know when you might need to scratch your back.”

He reached down to pull up the right leg of his jeans. The backscratcher was tucked inside his sock. He pulled it out and opened it up as far as it would go. Extended, it was eighteen inches long.

As their metal cages moved along the conveyor belt, Coke poked the backscratcher through the bars and tried to disrupt the gears and wheels on the right side. The machinery was within reach, but Coke had to be careful not to drop the backscratcher or let it get snapped in two.

They were now only a few feet away from the innards of the machine, where the unthinkable would happen. Sweat was pouring off Coke's forehead as he manipulated the backscratcher with his fingertips.

“Hurry!” Pep shouted.

And then, seconds before their cages would have dropped into the guts of the machine, Coke found a vulnerable spot. He poked the backscratcher into the blades of a small fan. The blades stopped, which sent a signal to the computer controlling the machine, and the whole thing ground to a halt.

Silence. Sweet silence. And then, a voice.

“Coke! Pepsi! Are you in there?”

“Yes!”

“In here!”

“Mom? Dad?”

But it wasn't their mother or father who had come to rescue them. The parents were still waiting patiently in the car. The gears of the wrapping machine were put into reverse and the cages were backed out until Coke and Pep could see who had come to save them.

“Bones! Mya!” Pep hollered. “What are
you
doing here?”

“You didn't think we gave up on you two, did you?” Mya asked as she opened the cage and helped Pep climb out of it.

“I did, actually,” Coke said as Bones opened his cage. “But I'm glad I was wrong.”

E
xcept for a rip in Coke's T-shirt, the twins were fine. They told Mya and Bones everything they could remember about Doominator and Mrs. Higgins.

“Let's go!” Bones hollered to Mya. “Maybe we can catch them before they get too far.”

Before following him, Mya put her hands on the twins' shoulders.

“We will watch out for you,
always
,” she said. Then she hugged them both and ran after Bones.

Coke and Pep had no interest in hanging around to see the rest of the chocolate factory. They rushed back to the little storage room and climbed out the small window they had entered. Their parents were waiting in the car.

“So, did you have fun?” asked Dr. McDonald. “Was it exciting, having the run of the place?”

“
Exciting
is the perfect word for it, Dad,” Coke replied.

“Not
again
!” Mrs. McDonald asked, poking her finger through the tear in Coke's shirt. “What happened
this
time?”

“It . . . uh . . . got caught on something,” Coke said honestly. “I'm really sorry, Mom.”

“I wish you'd be more careful,” Mrs. McDonald said shaking her head. “I feel like you ruin a new T-shirt just about every day.”

Afterward, they had dinner and checked into a Waco hotel called La Quinta Inn & Suites. It was still early, and the twins, in the privacy of their own room, had some time to talk things over.

“Do you think that robot is as dangerous to us as the real Dr. Warsaw?” Pep wondered as she brushed her teeth.

“It's
more
dangerous,” Coke replied. “At least Dr. Warsaw felt guilty about what he was doing. That's probably why he had a nervous breakdown. Doominator has everything Dr. Warsaw has, except for a conscience. So the robot can kill a kid and feel no remorse.”

“Do you think Mrs. Higgins really loves him?” Pep asked. “I mean, is it possible to fall in love with a robot? Or for a robot to fall in love with a person?”

“Beats me,” her brother replied. “The two of them seem like they're meant for each other. They're both psychos.”

From Waco to Austin is a straight shot south about a hundred miles down I-35. In the morning, Dr. McDonald let the Ferrari unwind and they made the trip in an hour and a half.

As soon as they arrived in Austin, it was obvious that this was not your typical central Texas town. Besides its fame as the Live Music Capital of the World, Austin is also famous simply for being a weird place and proud of
it. In fact, bumper stickers and signs around town say
KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD
.

From the giant fork outside the Hyde Park Bar & Grill to the mural of a frog saying
HI
,
HOW ARE YOU
, the town has a refreshing oddball character to it. Nothing says that more than the Museum of the Weird on East Sixth Street. That's exactly where Mrs. McDonald wanted to go to gather material for
Amazing but True
.

People who are fascinated by UFOs, ghosts, sideshow freaks, and zombies feel right at home in this place. It's filled with displays of shrunken heads, Fiji
mermaids, Bigfoot footprints, live reptiles, wax vampires, mummies, and strange animals like a hairy fish and a two-headed cow. There's a photo of a football team with six-fingered players.

“This place creeps me out,” Pep said as she gazed at an exhibit about Ballyhoo Betty, a professional fire-eater who pulls nails out of her nose. But Pep made it a point to look at every photo on the wall and peer into every display case.

Mrs. McDonald took a few pictures and jotted down some notes, but the Museum of the Weird was a little too weird even for her. And Dr. McDonald looked down his nose at the whole operation.

“They call
this
a museum?” he said with a snort. “That's ridiculous. Your mother and I will meet you outside.”

After their parents left, the twins continued looking at the displays and giggling at the outrageousness of it all.

On a table near the shrunken head display was a button that looked like a doorbell. On a piece of paper next to it, somebody had written in childish handwriting. . . .

Coke, intrigued, pushed the button. A voice came
out of a little speaker. . . .

“7-14-12-4-14-5-19-7-4-2-17-8-2-10-4-19-12-0-18-19-4-17.”

“It must be busted,” Coke said. He pushed the button again.

“7-14-12-4-14-5-19-7-4-2-17-8-2-10-4-19-12-0-18-19-4-17.”

“I don't think it's busted,” Pep said. “I think it's a cipher.”

“Oh no, not another one,” Coke groaned. “Not
numbers
!”

“Relax,” his sister told him. “We can do this.”

“Maybe
you
can do it,” Coke replied. “I'm useless.”

“Well, then memorize the numbers, at least,” Pep instructed him.

“I already did.”

That was the last thing either of them would do at the Museum of the Weird. At that moment, everything went black. Heavy blankets were thrown over the twins' heads, and then wrapped up tightly. It all happened so fast, there was no time to react. They were grabbed roughly from behind, picked up, and carried out the back exit.

C
oke felt himself being carried down a flight of stairs, out a door, around a corner, and then up another flight of stairs.

“Help!” he could hear his sister shouting. But her voice was muffled, as she, too, was wrapped tightly inside a heavy blanket.

Finally, both twins were unwrapped so they could see their kidnappers.

“Bowler dudes!” Pep shouted. “Not
again
!”

“At your service,” said the bowler dude with the mustache.

“At your service,” repeated the clean-shaven bowler dude.

“I said that already.”

“And I said it again.”

“Shut up.”

“
You
shut up.”

Aside from the arguing bowler dudes, it was an empty room. There were no windows, and there was just one door. One way out, and the bowler dudes were blocking it.

“What are you going to do to us
now
?” Coke asked defiantly.

“You'll find out,” the clean-shaven bowler dude said, snickering. With that, both bowler dudes left the room, locking the door behind them.

Pep let out the best scream she could muster, but the room was soundproof, of course. Coke looked around for an escape route. There were no vents in the floor, walls, or ceiling. He reached for the cell phone in his back pocket. It was gone. Pep's had been taken away too.

When a half hour had passed and the twins hadn't come out of the Museum of the Weird, their parents went inside to get them. Coke and Pep, of course,
were no longer there.

“Have you seen two kids?” Dr. McDonald asked the lady behind the ticket booth. “A boy and a girl? Twins? They're thirteen.”

“Yeah, I think I saw them in here earlier,” the lady replied. “Maybe fifteen minutes ago. They must have left.”

Dr. and Mrs. McDonald rushed outside and looked up and down the busy street. There were a lot of kids milling around. But not
their
kids.

Reader, as a young person, you can't imagine the feeling that comes over parents when they're out in a public place and their children suddenly are not where they expect them to be. In a matter of seconds, the parents will go from calm and relaxed to believing they will never see their children again.

Dr. McDonald dialed the cell phone numbers for Coke and Pep. No answer. Now the McDonalds were getting frantic. The next call was to the police.

The twins were locked in a room just a few blocks away, but there was no way of knowing that. There was nothing for
them
to do either. Hours passed. At some point, the door flew open and one of the bowler dudes slid in a tray with two burritos on it. Then the door slammed shut again. Other than that, there was
no communication. The twins lost track of time.

“Why do you think they're holding us here?” Pep asked her brother. “If they wanted to do something to us, they could have done it already.”

“It's almost like they're waiting for something,” Coke replied.

They were.

The nice detective at the police station helped Mrs. McDonald file a missing persons report. The police would comb the city looking for the twins, she explained calmly. Kids get reported missing all the time. More often than not, they stray a hundred yards from their parents or wander off in search of ice cream. On the very rare occasion, a kid is kidnapped. But all threats must be taken seriously.

Just before dusk, the door abruptly opened again and both of the bowler dudes came into the room. It was almost a relief for the kids to see human beings, even if it had to be
those
human beings. The mustachioed one was carrying two rags and some thick rope. He proceeded to tie the twins' hands behind their backs and blindfold them.

“Get your paws off of me!” Coke shouted, trying
to karate-kick the clean-shaven bowler dude. He knocked the bowler hat off the dude's head but didn't inflict any damage.

The big man was not amused. He picked up Coke and hoisted him over his shoulder. His brother did the same to Pep.

“Where are you taking us?” she demanded. “Leave us alone!”

“You're going for a ride,” the clean-shaven bowler dude said. “Kids like rides, don't you?”

The twins couldn't see where they were being taken, but they could tell they were carried downstairs and thrown roughly into a van. The ride was short, less than five minutes. They couldn't have traveled even a mile. Coke spent the time trying to free his hands behind his back, but the rope was expertly tied.

The van came to a stop. The doors opened. The bowler dudes weren't talking. Coke and Pep felt themselves being picked up and carried a short distance. It was quieter here. The sounds of the city were more distant.

They felt themselves being lowered carefully onto something. It was wobbly, not a solid surface. There was the sound of water underneath.

“I think we're in a boat,” Coke said. “A little boat.”

“And I'd advise you not to try anything stupid, like jumping out of it,” one of the bowler dudes said. “It's really hard to swim with your hands tied behind your back.”

“Gee, thanks for the advice,” Coke replied sarcastically. “You're a big help. Do you have any other pearls of wisdom for us?”

“Yeah, have fun!” shouted one of the bowler dudes.

With that, he gave the rowboat a shove with his foot, pushing it out onto the Colorado River.

When I say Colorado River, you're probably thinking of white-water rafting through the Grand Canyon. It certainly would be a terrifying experience to go through rapids on a rowboat, blindfolded, with your hands tied behind your back.