The Sixteen Burdens (32 page)

Did something go wrong?

Not until Chaplin pulled up next to them did he see that the girl in the white dress and beret was, in fact, Lulu. He had never seen her in anything other than overalls. Her hair was shaped into big curls from the hairpins. Elsie must have cleaned up her face with a bit of powder and makeup. The grungy little tomboy looked completely transformed.

Chaplin gave him a thumbs up, then honked his horn and cut in front of Gray’s float, which quickly slammed on its brakes. Carole nearly fell off her dinosaur, and the back rows of the marching band scattered to make space.

As the band fell into formation again, a whistle sounded and the band blared out a jaunty tune. It was so loud Gray would have trouble talking to Panchito right next to him.

That solves the Fairbanks problem.

They turned out of the parking lot and onto the parade route. The audience roared, an ocean of humanity lapping up against the edges of the street.

Somewhere out there, Darko Atlas was waiting for them.

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY
-S
IX

D
ARKO
A
TLAS
SAT
in the bleachers, smacking his lips on a handful of cotton candy.

“Would you like some?”

Mary Pickford sat next to him, her black dress so tattered and filthy that spectators downwind were wrinkling their noses.

She ignored his offer.

On her other side was Douglas Fairbanks, who was gagged with a handkerchief. He was pale, but he looked better now that his tongue was back in his mouth. Most of it, at least.

People cast looks at the odd trio in their special box seats at the top of the bleachers, but no one said a word. Not when Atlas glared at them.

He inhaled the crisp morning air and watched eagerly for the first of the floats to arrive.

It’s been years since I’ve watched a procession.

The last one ended in a bloodbath.

Atlas licked his sugary lips. The meeting place was perfect. Gray Studebaker probably wanted to make the swap in public so that no one would get hurt, but a parade allowed for too many variables. For example, it offered too many hiding places, especially for people of the dwarf variety. And a crowd made it difficult to look out for threats from, say, a trio of New York gangsters.

If Gray thought crowds would provide protection, he sorely underestimated the lengths to which Atlas would go to get the Eye. Anyone in his way would not be in it for long.

Eat them all.

Nonsense. There’s hardly enough time.

“Take the Eye, but let Gray go,” Pickford said. “He’s of no use, and no threat.”

“Ah, but Deda thinks he’s important. And as useless as he is for most things, the old man is usually right. So I will capture your son. And if I can’t capture him, I will kill him.”

Deda had been eager to come, but he was too frail to climb the stairs and Atlas had no patience for him. So they left him in the back of the truck parked a block from the bleachers.

Pickford turned the other direction and put her bound hands on Fairbanks’s knee.

“Douglas, please. Don’t let him take Gray. It’s the only thing that’s important to me.”

Fairbanks looked at her. He tried to say something but it was unintelligible. He reached for his gag but Atlas slapped his hand before he could touch it. The bones in Fairbanks’s hand cracked under the strength of the blow. The man let out a muffled scream. When he lifted his hand it was bent at an unnatural angle.

“Careful,” Atlas said. “Next time I’ll aim for your head.”

Atlas heard the distant brass of a marching band. The parade was starting.

Gray stood on the side of the volcano, offering the crowd an uninspired wave as he and Panchito watched for signs of trouble along the parade route. In front of them, Elsie looked around worriedly too, but Chaplin was smiling easily. He was an actor; he was good at faking it. Only Lulu seemed to be truly enjoying herself. She waved enthusiastically, and the crowd grew into a frenetic roar as she passed.

They’ll riot if they find out she’s an impostor.

The parade route was short, just a little over a mile, and Gray could already see the corner where the floats had to make a sharp left turn. That’s where Atlas and Pickford would be. Gray’s heart began to pound so loudly that the roar of the crowd became muffled and distant. It was as if they were on a conveyor belt, heading into an oven. There was no stopping it; they could only hope they wouldn’t get burned.

Gray scanned the bleachers ahead, spotting Atlas almost immediately. It was hard to miss a man who was eight feet tall and more than twice the width of a normal person. Gray saw Pickford next to him, fragile and wilting like a black flower.

Next to her sat Fairbanks, but he was no danger at this distance. And Gray had no intention of getting close.

They finally pulled up to where the three were sitting in the bleachers. The floats in front of them were long and had trouble turning the corner. They would be stopped for a minute or two. Gray could see Atlas focusing his sight on the Grand Marshal car. This was the moment.

“OK!” Gray shouted.

Lulu opened her palm with the real Eye in it. She floated it above her, a dozen or so feet in the air. It was an effort for her, but she had been practicing. She was impossible to miss. Gray watched Atlas’s gaze lock on the Eye, gleaming in the morning sun.

Atlas said something to Fairbanks, who stood and pulled Pickford up by the elbow. He led her into the aisle, and walked with her halfway down the bleachers.

“OK, Chito,” Gray said.

Panchito jumped off the float and ran to the side of the Grand Marshal car that was opposite Atlas. Gray held his breath. Once Panchito sent the Eye over, there would be no pulling it back.

Panchito aimed as Lulu steadied the Eye. Then, like a golfer hitting a ball on a tee, Panchito thrust it high in the air, lobbing it to Atlas. The giant man stood up and caught it as if it were a fly ball at a baseball game.

Atlas held the Eye close to his face, scrutinizing every inch of it carefully. Then he clamped down on it and squeezed with all his might. When he opened his hand, the Eye remained in his palm, unscathed. He too must have known it was indestructible.

Good thing we didn’t give him the fake.

Atlas nodded to Fairbanks, who let Pickford go. She stumbled the rest of the way down the bleachers, supporting herself against the shoulders of strangers as she went.

And just like that, it was over.

Pickford was free and no one had been hurt. It was the easiest thing in the world. Lulu need only steal the Eye back. There would be no casualties. There would be no need for a Plan B.

As Pickford hobbled over, he could see she was trying to hurry. As she stepped out into the street she got within shouting distance of them.

“It’s a trap! You have to get out of here now!”

Gray looked back at Atlas, who was now giving a slight nod to someone in the bleachers. He shouted to the car in front.

“Lulu! Go!”

The girl nodded and he saw her disappear in a blink.

Panchito was already behind Pickford, thrusting her up onto the float. She landed roughly and fell onto her hands and knees.

Carole looked down from her dinosaur.

“What’s she doing on this float? It’s ruining the look!”

Gray turned to shut her up when he saw swirls of black energy float by him. He recognized it as fear, but he couldn’t understand why Elsie would be doing it.

“Elsie!”

She turned around and looked at him. Her face was a question.

It isn’t her. It’s someone else.

Elsie wondered what Gray wanted until she felt it—a spine tingling fear that seeped into her chest like a poison. She had never felt someone manipulate her emotions, but she instinctively understood what was going on.

How can someone else do what I can do?

She stood up in her seat, looking around. Someone right under her nose was toying with her emotions, which shouldn’t be possible except—

Jack Siegel.

Everything came back to her now. While she was being held captive, Siegel had hit her, threatened her, starved her until she told him who she was and what the Eye did. It didn’t take long for them to figure out how it worked.

Elsie spotted him easily. He was there, just on the edge of the crowd, on the opposite side of the street from Atlas. In a plain black suit and fedora, he blended into the crowd. When her eyes found his, he smiled.

Not only did Siegel have her power, but he was already able to throw emotion to someone without touching them.

He’s a natural.

Elsie felt angry. She felt violated that someone had taken something from her without her permission. Even worse, he was using it on her. It wasn’t right. She raged, and it felt good. It pushed out all of the fear. She opened the car door and stepped out.

“Where are you going?” Chaplin asked.

“I have business,” she said, slamming the door shut.

She came within five yards of Siegel, who stood there casually. A beam of fear hit her again and it made her stop. She wanted to turn, to run away. Or maybe just crawl up into a ball and hide. She took a half step back and stumbled.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You were always such a bearcat. Now you’re just a scaredy-cat.”

She willed herself to take a step toward him.

There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s not a real feeling.

“If you leave with me right now, I’ll let you keep all of your fingers,” he said.

“What do you want me for?” she asked. “You have my talent now.”

“Truth be told,” he said, “I could use some coaching. You see, I can make people scared and angry, no problem. Sadness takes a bit more effort. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t make people happy. I’ve got plans for a wife and I have my sights set on Gina. It’d be a whole lot easier if she loved me.”

“Why would I help you get Gina to love you?”

“Because I’ll let your friends live.”

He opened one breast of his jacket and gave her a glimpse of the hilt of a gun in his inside pocket.

“I’m a pretty good shot.”

Her own anger helped her push the fear aside. For the split second she was out of its grip, she shot back fear at Siegel. He recoiled, clenching his hands to his chest as if he had just seen a giant spider.

She stepped up to him, just feet away. He flinched, trying to get away from her.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said. “My sister and I are leaving. I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

Siegel steeled himself and looked her in the eye.

“You should be,” he said.

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m not alone.”

Elsie felt a hand on her shoulder and fear struck her again, so strongly that she crumpled over. She looked up to see Enzo, the bodyguard, touching her. Max appeared on the other side and grabbed her arm. They were both focused on her. Siegel stood up and shook the feeling off.

“Do you suppose it’s possible to kill someone with fear alone?”

Elsie couldn’t answer. Her jaw was clenched shut in terror.

“Let’s find out, boys.”

Panchito saw Elsie get out of the car, but he didn’t have time to worry. His immediate problem included three stocky kids who were surrounding him like bullies on a school yard.

Except they weren’t kids.

Panchito recognized the clowns in children’s clothes. They were holding food and parade paraphernalia to sell their disguise, but anyone who took more than a passing glance wouldn’t be fooled by their hardened, weathered faces.

Horace, the lead clown, was holding a candied apple on a thick stick. He pulled the apple off to reveal a short dagger.

“You people have an unhealthy obsession with knives,” Panchito said.

“Out of the way,” Horace said. “We’re here for the other kid.”

Panchito looked up at Gray, who was on the float untying Pickford’s hands.

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

The clown made a mocking sad face.

“Then call your lawyer.”

The bald clown was wearing a baker boy cap and carrying a bag of popcorn. He reached into the bag and pulled out a pistol, shiny with melted butter. The clown with the hooked nose was wielding a small American flag. He ripped the flag from the base, which Panchito saw was actually a lead pipe.

The float started to move again. Panchito shuffled sideways, keeping himself between the float and the clowns.

“Gray. You gotta go.”

Gray looked down and saw the clowns.

“I ain’t leaving you here.”

“I got this,” Panchito said. “There’s only three of them, and they’re each half-sized, so really it’s only one and a half.”

The bald clown aimed his pistol at Panchito’s head.

“You’re about to get a face full of lead.”

Panchito backed against the float. He was going to need the support. He started to point his palms outward when the clown cocked his gun.

“Ah-ah! Keep them down. I heard about those magic hands.”

Panchito had always extended his hands out to thrust at something, but he realized he didn’t need to. It was just a way to help him visualize and concentrate on his courage. So, he kept his hands down and braced himself against the float.

“What?” Panchito asked. “Are you tired of getting pushed around? Too bad.”

Panchito focused on a wide arc and thrust with all his might. It hit the clowns at chest level and they went toppling backward, head over heels. Their weapons scattered across the street.

He turned back to Gray.

“They want you! You need to go!”