The Indigo Thief (6 page)

“You’re disgusting.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think that we believe your lies for even a second, Miss Charlotte Minos. Or should I say Charlie? Your H.E.A.L. file said you preferred your friends call you that.”

“You’re not my friend.”

“Ah, Charlie,” he said, “that’s where you’re wrong. In time, I think you’ll find we’ll become quite good friends. You just need more time to think. To clear your head and remember the truth. A bit of fasting ought to do the trick.”

“Sage!” he called to someone in the hall. “Would you remove Charlie’s IV? She’s recovering just fine, but have the kitchen hold her meals. She doesn’t seem to have her appetite yet.”

And with that, he was gone. A girl’s small frame replaced him in the doorway. Sage, Charlie guessed. The light caught her glazed eyes—she was blind. Despite this, she expertly navigated the room.

“Arm, please,” Sage ordered. Charlie held out her arm, and the girl withdrew the needle.

“Thanks,” Charlie said. Sage pursed her lips and nodded. Charlie admired the girl’s soft, straight hair. “Your hair’s a lovely shade of brown.” She watched the girl’s body tense. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong? I wasn’t even thinking.”

Sage wrapped the IV tubing around her wrist. “It’s all right,” she said.

Charlie watched as Sage straightened the sheets at the end of her bed. From the speed with which she did it, it looked like she’d been doing this job for quite a while.

“How long have you been blind?” Charlie asked.

“As long as I’ve been working here.”

“And how long’s that?”

Sage’s jaw tightened. “Four years.”

Charlie stared at the girl’s clothes. She looked like a maid of sorts. She wore a simple baby blue dress and a navy coat. Her straight hair hit her shoulders, framing her round face and accentuating her almond-shaped eyes.

“How’d it happened?” asked Charlie.

Sage shook her head. “We shouldn’t be talking. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

“Your hair really is a lovely chestnut,” said Charlie from her bed. “It’s the shade you get when you mix coffee with just the right amount of cream. My mom and dad used to drink coffee that color.”

Sage smiled faintly. “People used to say my mother’s hair was a lovely shade of chestnut. Like caramel mixed with coffee.” She rubbed her eyes. “My hair was blond when I came here. That was the last time I saw it. I guess my eyesight’s not the only thing that’s changed.”

“No,” Charlie said quietly. “I guess it’s not.” She breathed in deeply and asked the question that had plagued her mind since she’d spoken to Mrs. Bradbury. “Am I going to die in here?”

Sage stared at the floor, and wrapped several strands of chestnut hair around a finger before nodding slightly. “I—I think so, Miss Minos.”

Charlie lay back in her bed. “Oh,” she said, wondering if the same fate awaited Mrs. B and Kai too.

Sage walked toward the door, then turned. “Miss Minos?”

Charlie sat up slightly. “Yes?”

“Don’t believe everything you see, and don’t believe
any
thing you hear.”

“Why’s that?”

The girl chewed her lip. “They—they’ve been putting hallucinogens in your fluids for the past week. Pumping you full of them while you slept.” And with that she left, closing the door behind her.

A pit formed in Charlie’s stomach. She called for Mrs. Bradbury.

Nothing.

She called again.

No response.

Mrs. Bradbury was no longer there. Charlie wondered if she’d ever been there at all.

For the first time since she’d woken, Charlie realized she was truly alone.

The blond boy yanked me from the sand and threw me toward the building.

“CODE WHITE!” he yelled to its concrete walls. “WE HAVE A CODE WHITE ON THE SOUTH END OF THE ISLAND!”

I tried to remember what Mom had taught me about her research. She and Dad were the leading experts on megalodon behavior, and now I wished I hadn’t zoned out when she’d talked about work. The doodles I’d made in my notebooks instead wouldn’t help me now.

The thrashing in the water worsened as more megalodons arrived and tore the floating island into pieces. Kindred, Dove, and Sparky climbed out of the broken window and ran toward the beach, guns across their chests. Sparky tossed me one, but the blond boy intercepted it. He pulled another from his pocket, and pointed one at me and one at the monsters.

“We got enough ammo, Sparks?” he asked.

“Negative,” said Sparky, “though I admit I’m fairly conservative with my estimates.”

Tim wrapped a claw around Sparky’s gun and yawned. Apparently the action was a bit much for him.

Phoenix scratched his head. “How is that possible? Meels was supposed to get another shipment from the Tube.”

Sparky shook his head. “No, Phoenix. That was Bugsy’s job…”

So, the boy with the bulging muscles was named Phoenix. I thought of the bird on the strange woman’s fan in the Tube. It had been a Phoenix. I thought back to signs they’d hung at Buster’s Burgers in recent months. Pictures taken from security footage showing a blond-haired boy.
PHOENIX McGANN
, the words beneath the images read.
THE FEDERATION’s #1 MOST WANTED
.

Phoenix stared at his gun and sighed. The crunch of glass and plastic grew louder. He had to shout to be heard over it. “We have enough to tranquilize at least one.”

Sparky shook his head. “Negative. We have enough to maybe make one drowsy, but that’s it, boss. The cartridges we do have are expired. If they were people, well, then maybe we could down ten or twelve of them.”

“They’re not remotely people, Sparks. Where’s Big Bertha? She’ll have something for this. The tranquilizers aren’t enough.”

Big Bertha? There was a Lost Boy called Big Bertha? I glanced back at the building, imagining the arrival of a seven-foot she-woman with a blond Viking braid and bosoms the size of Mt. Mauna Loa.

“FOR CHRIST’S SAKE,” shouted a voice from the building, “CODE WHITE AT NINE IN THE FRICKIN’ MORNING?”

I guessed Big Bertha was near.

“Prepare yourself,” muttered Phoenix.

A black leather boot kicked down one of the building’s doors.

A petite girl not taller than five feet stood where the door had been knocked from its hinges. She had dark brown skin and eyes, and her lips were curled into a growl. Her short, cropped hair had been spun into braided balls, and her mouth was fixed in a frown, making her look a little like a trout.

Phoenix smiled. “What do you have for us, Big Bertha?”

This
was Big Bertha? Five-foot-nothing was Big Bertha? Braided balls of fury? A light gust of wind could’ve blown her away. She rolled her eyes and gave Phoenix the finger.

“Real nice,” he said.

She slowly dragged a large black bag through the doorway.

“Perhaps,” said Phoenix, “it might be possible for you to hasten your pace a smidge? We do have megalodons swarming the island…”

“PATIENCE!” she shouted.

I had half a mind to run into the water right then. The megalodons might’ve had teeth, but the Lost Boys had guns. And likely torture. With the megalodons, at least it would be over quick.

I stared at the gun Phoenix still pointed in my direction. I couldn’t run, not yet. I had to wait for the perfect moment. Bertha still sorted through the bag. Her black braid balls stuck out from its depths.

I turned to Kindred. “That’s Big Bertha?”

She nodded.

“And the ‘big’ comes from where exactly?”

Bertha pulled out a gun the size of a lawnmower. She yanked the trigger and yelled. “CLEAR!” A ball of static electricity fired fifteen feet into the air.

“Oh,” I said quietly.

Kindred nodded, smiling like a proud mom. “She makes most of our guns, dear. The rest we borrow from the Federation.”

“You mean you
steal
them from the Federation?” I said.

“No, silly.” She winked. “We return all the bullets.”

Bertha fired another round into the air.

“Brilliant, Bertha,” said Phoenix. “What do you call her?”

“The Paralyzer,” the girl said, cradling the gun in her arms like an infant. “She launches an electrical shock capable of inducing paralysis for between ten and sixteen hours, and she’s effective up to forty feet away.”

“Balls, that’s cool,” said Dove under his breath.

The megalodons’ fins teetered as they tore off more chunks from the island.

“Yeah,” I whispered to Kindred, “but can it kill a shark?”

Bertha pointed to me. “Who’s the kid? Boy Scout? We’re not buying cookies this year, thanks.” She cackled at her own joke.

I rolled my eyes. “Boy Scouts don’t sell cookies.”

She stepped back. “And now he’s giving me sass. The Boy Scout’s giving
me
sass.”

Kindred patted my back. “His name’s Kai Bradbury, dear.”

“What?” she squinted. “Car Battery? What the hell kind of name is that?

“Better than Big Bertha,” I muttered. I glanced at Phoenix. He was shaking his head. Crashing glass echoed around us.

“I suspect he’s got brain injuries,” said Phoenix. “So far he’s been slow. But he did take a Dummy Dart to the head. I imagine the serum’s still wearing off.”

“For his sake, I hope so,” said Bertha. “We don’t need another Dove.”

At that moment Dove was giggling and chasing a butterfly.

Bertha sucked in a breath. “Now lemme tell you something, Car Battery—”

“It’s Kai Bradbury—”

“You don’t
kill
sharks. Or megalodons. Or
anything
for that matter in these waters. The last thing we want is a bunch of blood floating around us in the middle of the ocean. You think a few megalodons are bad? Picture an ocean full of ’em.”

Sparky glanced at the shore. “Could we possibly focus on getting rid of them? Maybe? For even the smallest of seconds? They’ve already destroyed fifteen feet of shoreline.”

Bertha sighed and fired her gun at the water. The weapon kicked like a bucking horse, and she had to steady herself against the building’s concrete wall. The salt water magnified the electric ball’s effects, and a megalodon’s frozen body floated to the surface. The Paralyzer had worked. She fired again.

“Shiny!” said Dove, noticing the ball of white sparks. Kindred patted his back.

Another megalodon floated to the surface. For a split second, Phoenix lowered the gun he aimed at me.

I jerked Kindred’s gun from her hands and immediately fired twice at his leg. Darts flew out rather than bullets. Tranquilizers, I guessed, based on what Phoenix had said.

Phoenix stared at his leg and smiled slightly. “I underestimated you, Kai Bradbury.”

The guns fell from his hands and his knees buckled. Bertha aimed the Paralyzer in my direction. I quickly shot probably thirty rounds at her—my aim wasn’t great, but one dart finally hit her neck. I guessed Sparky
was
very conservative with his estimates.

Bertha pulled the dart from her neck. “Well damn,” she said, and then fell like Phoenix.

“Oh, dear,” said Kindred.

Sparky aimed his gun at me, hands shaking. “We—we will not condone this sort of behavior. Cease your fire at once.”

My heart pounded. This was no time to be reasonable. These people weren’t my friends—they weren’t decent human beings. They were hurting people. Stealing lives. They were criminals, and had to be stopped. I fired darts at both Kindred and Sparky, and they fell to the ground.

Dove looked at me with wide eyes. “Balls,” he said, before lowering himself to the ground.

My breaths came in bursts. I’d beaten the terrorists at their own game. They were done. I could call the Federal guards and turn them in. They’d been dysfunctional at best; it was hard to believe they’d evaded the Feds for so long. With their capture, I could prove my innocence—and I could see Mom and Charlie again.

The island shook as the megalodons continued to tear it apart. The Lost Boys lay crumpled at my feet. It was just me and the monsters now.

Crap.

I hadn’t thought this through. I ran toward Bertha and grabbed the Paralyzer off the ground, aiming it at the water.

“
DNA scan required
,” announced a robotic voice from within the gun.

Crap.

I
really
hadn’t thought this through. I grabbed Bertha’s hand and twisted her limp fingers around the gun. Farther down the beach, Tim inched away from Sparky’s limp body. His instincts told him there was danger. It was time to flee.

“
Identity confirmed
,” announced the gun. I squeezed my hand over Bertha’s, pulling the trigger. It kicked in my hand, knocking me back. A ball of energy sailed through the air. I positioned myself again, this time aiming at the water.

A dart landed in the sand next to me with a hiss. A pit formed in my stomach. There was still one Lost Boy left.

Mila Vachowski.

Another dart whizzed past my ear. I had to move. I dropped Bertha’s gun and ran for the other end of the island. A dart sailed past my face, its shuttlecock scraping my cheek. Another whizzed past my throat.

Her aim was getting better. I wondered if the darts she fired contained a sedative or a poison. Probably a combination of the two.

By now, even more megalodons ate at the shoreline. New Texas was slowly disintegrating. Farther out, I saw debris floating freely. The monsters were in a frenzy now, this close to tasting their prey.

I remembered Mom saying that megalodons were incredibly smart for sharks, their intelligence rivaling that of dolphins. Like they’d been bred to attack human prey.

It was strange that such an intelligent monster had developed so quickly. Some researchers said that it was because of the massive amount of nuclear fallout in the ocean: that the radioactive waste that had fallen from the sky had altered the genes of other shark species and transformed them into these creatures of prehistoric proportions. But Mom said their rapid evolution was almost too perfect, too much of a statistical anomaly to make sense. A three-headed shark would’ve been more reasonable.

A dart stabbed through the loose fabric of my shirt, but didn’t nick my skin. I knocked it to the ground, careful not to touch its loaded needle. I kept running, and turned a corner on the island, but the darts didn’t stop. There was no escaping. Running like this wouldn’t work. The second I was hit, I would be good as dead. Mila would throw my limp body into the ocean, and the monsters would tear me apart, bit by bit.