The Subatomic Kid (32 page)

John rubbed his chin and thought about it for a moment, “Not a chance,” he said, as they all filed through the door into the bowling alley.

***

“Mr. Hunter, I think the natives are getting restless,” Steve pointed out meekly. It was true; it was like the nerd version of “Night of the Living Dead,” with a large group of skinny, smelly, pimply, longhaired beatniks slowly stumbling toward them like zombies.

Hunter continued his steely-eyed vigil of the bowling alley. “I see them. They’re just a pathetic bunch of losers; they won’t give us any trouble.”

Steve took a look behind him and saw Copernicus and Aristotle leading another band of hostile-looking beatniks toward them. “It looks like they’re trying to surround us.”

“Well, unless they have laser beams under those glasses, they’re out of luck,” Hunter replied, slipping his hand into his jacket and gripping his revolver.

“They don’t need laser beams,” Steve said standing up and gripping the gun in his shoulder holster. “They have a more devastating weapon.”

Hunter stood up and turned in a circle; the Nerds were all around them in a kind of loose horseshoe. Presumably they were about to close the circle. “What are you talking about? What secret weapon?” he asked. But he didn’t hear the answer because through the dwindling gap in the ranks surrounding them, he saw a door open, and he watched the four kids run out. “There they are!” he shouted just as the circle closed.

He and Steve were now standing back to back, and the Nerds were moving in closer. “Okay, pull your gun,” Hunter directed as he pulled his and leveled it at the crowd. Instantaneously, the crowd of deadbeats surrounding them threw their hands high into the air.

“You see,” Hunter said, “I told you they were spineless; they’ve given up already.”

“No sir,” Steve said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you; they emit an obnoxious cheesy gas from their armpits. I suggest you hold your nose—it’s lethal.”

Even though he’d been warned, Hunter found the whole idea completely preposterous, and he leaned forward slightly and sniffed the air. It was a mistake of gigantic proportions, because instantly the deadly blue-cheese gas swept up his nostrils like an uppercut and punched him in the brain.

***

As Tex, Kate, John, and Cal rushed out the door, they were surprised to see a huge throng of people standing in a circle at the center of the bowling alley with their arms in the air. The black-framed bespectacled crowd looked like they were either ready to rise into the air, or waiting to bow down in praise of some unseen idol.

“Hold your breath and run,” urged Tex, and they all took off, making a swift and breathless exit for the door. They ripped it open, and as they tumbled outside, they took in huge gulps of clean fresh air.

“What do you think that unearthly aroma was?” Kate asked as she squinched her nose in disgust.

“Whatever it was I’m sure our pursuers are under the brain-numbing effect of it,” Cal replied with a wicked laugh.

“But I bet they won’t be for long,” Tex put in. “That guy Hunter could beat up the whole bowling alley with one hand tied behind his back.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” John whispered cryptically. He was thinking about what the Master of the Perfect Word had said…it was important that the agents escape from the bowling alley also. But what could he do? He’d tried to help them out as much as he could; he just hoped it had been enough. “Let’s get the car,” he said, and Kate, Cal, and Tex fell in behind him.

John had a queasy feeling in his stomach because he was going to have to tell his friends their hopes of going home were now dashed completely—and probably for good. It wasn’t enough that he’d dragged them away from their families and into captivity, now he’d dragged them clear into another world and there was no way back.

“You know what I’m looking forward to?” Cal asked.

“No! What are you looking forward to?” Tex wondered.

“My bed,” Cal replied. “There’s nothing like your own bed. It’s full of old dreams, and maybe one or two nightmares. But that’s okay; they too were good dreams until they suddenly went bad.”

“That sounds like Little Nemo,” Kate said laughing.

“Who is Little Nemo?” Cal asked.

“He’s this little kid, who goes off into Dreamland every night, and Dreamland is populated by an extremely strange cast of characters. In each adventure he normally has to help someone out, like the King of Dreamland, for instance, and then in the end, when things start going bad as they always do, he wakes up in his bed,” Kate related.

“Just from your comment about the bed, and dreams that turn around. Little Nemo used to take his bed with him to Dreamland; he used to fly around in it,” Kate added.

“Well, I don’t fly around in my bed; I sleep in it, and I’m looking forward to sleeping in it real soon,” Cal said with a touch of sarcasm.

“I don’t believe you guys, I only mentioned my bed because I can’t sleep in the garden,” Cal groaned. “Forget I said anything. Forget the whole thing.”

“We are going home now, aren’t we?” Kate asked. John was considering giving them the bad news when events suddenly took a course of their own as Cal jumped back out of the limo holding a gun in his hand.

“Cal, don’t be foolish. What are you doing with that?” Tex asked.

“Something I always wanted to do,” Cal proclaimed, taking a step toward them.

“Look, put the gun down,” John insisted. “Guns aren’t toys.” The three of them backed away from Cal, who had a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Don’t try to stop me,” he said decisively, “I’ve made up my mind.” They watched him move around the back of the limo.

“Whatever it is we can talk about it,” Kate pleaded.

“The time for talking is over; it’s time for action now.” With those words hanging in the air he turned around, aimed the gun at the rear wheel of Hunter’s limo and fired, blowing out the tire. “That’s better,” he said, turning back to them and smiling.

“You chump—you really had me going! I thought you were going to do something stupid,” Tex said. “But this. . .this is clever! Let me try.” Cal handed him the revolver and Tex took aim at the other wheel. He fired, and the whole rear end of the limo slumped closer to the ground.

While John watched the events taking a completely impromptu turn, Kate jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “I’ve always wanted to do that…may I?”

“Sure,” Tex said, handing her the gun. She took careful aim at the front wheel and squealed as she fired into the tire, blasting it out.

“That was the best,” she said, smiling broadly.

They all turned to John, who was wondering how destroying tires fulfilled his promise to help the two secret agents chasing them to escape.
Life is filled with strange changes and
adversities
, he thought. The agents were just going to have to deal with it. Nobody gets a free ride.

“Go on, try it; it’s good therapy,” Cal urged.

“What the hell!” John exclaimed, taking the gun from Kate’s hand. He took aim at the last inflated tire on the car, and as he squeezed the trigger he made the fatal mistake of turning his head away. The gun exploded, and the bullet missed its mark and began ricocheting around the wheel arch, off the tarmac, and into the underside of the car.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she answered. “I’m laughing on the inside.” John shook his head, aimed, pulled the trigger and blew the last tire out.

“I know, it’s like being on tour with a bunch of comedians,” Tex laughed, taking the gun from John’s hand. “But look on the bright side—we’re really nice people.” Kate nodded in agreement as Cal rejoined them, still laughing.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Cal said with a titter. “I feel very lightheaded—I must be hungry.”

Tex ripped a flier off the car, which had been stuck under a windshield wiper. “Here, eat this,” he said seriously, handing it to Cal.

“Gee, thanks, you’re so generous,” Cal mocked. “What’s for dessert?”

“Us getting out of here,” John declared, and they all clambered back inside the limo.

***

In one short sniff Hunter had inhaled a dizzying amount of a smell he could only describe as an olfactory cocktail of dirty old socks filled with ripe Gorgonzola cheese. It was his own fault—he had been warned—but human nature is such that we rarely believe what we’re told until having tried it ourselves, and Hunter was no stranger to the predilection.

The description of the smell was one thing, but the power of the smell was quite another. Hunter figured they must be surrounded by at least a hundred Nerds, and they were all blasting the same deadly gas at him. It was a tremendous accolade to his constitution, and a testament to his martial arts training, that he didn’t collapse immediately.

Among the various techniques he’d learned while studying with an assortment of Grand Masters was “Diving for Pearls of Wisdom.” It entailed holding one’s breath for inordinately long periods of time while divining the visions born of oxygen deprivation for deep meanings. It was literally like diving without an ocean, and it taught him to hold his breath for many minutes on end.

By swiftly employing this technique, he managed to stem the flow of deadly gas to his brain and recollect his senses. The Nerds were almost on top of them, and if he allowed them to gain the upper hand, both he and Steve would most certainly succumb to the noxious substance they emitted so freely from their armpits.

“What are we gonna do?” Steve shouted, pinching his nose so tightly he sounded like a cartoon character.

“You tried to cheat us, man,” Copernicus said venomously.

“It’s the end of the road for you,” Aristotle taunted. “You’re gonna be breaking rocks in the hot sun for the rest of your lives.”

“Shall I shoot him?” Steve asked.

“No,” Hunter answered, letting out a tiny amount of the precious breath he was holding. He spun around to face them. He was in an extremely bad mood. Because of this nonsense the kids had eluded him once again. His anger whirled around inside him like a tornado, and blind rage emitted from his eyes like death rays. “I’ve had it with you two,” he growled.

He didn’t believe in shooting unarmed men; having a conscience was bad enough, he didn’t need to overburden it with senseless acts of violence that would plague him to the grave. However, teaching someone an invaluable lesson using an iron fist was an important part of his warrior code.

Striking like lightning, he was suddenly beside Copernicus, grasping his hand and pulling it straight down to the floor, destroying the Nerd’s balance. At almost the same time, he swung his leg at the back of Copernicus’ knees, ripping his feet out from under him and dropping him like a fly.

Leaving him to fight with the floor, Hunter delivered a mean backward elbow blow to Aristotle’s throat, swung his knee around and sank it deep into his stomach, and sent him sprawling to the floor with a tap of his gun butt on the back his head.

It was over in seconds, and as the two groveled on the floor in obvious pain, Hunter turned in a circle and went eye to eye with every person in the crowd surrounding them. They had not seen fighting like this before; they allowed no violence in their society for the obvious reason that doing harm to anyone would be like hurting themselves. They saved all their hatred and derision for Off-Worlders, beings they could persecute, beings who could never compete with them, because no matter how hard they tried, Off-Worlders could never look the same as the Nerds.

Through some strange sleight of hand, Hunter had also managed to contort his face into a horrific mask of anger. It was a face that said: “If you mess with me I’ll tear you apart limb by limb.” The crowd of Nerds, who saw Aristotle and Copernicus moaning on the floor, had no doubts it was true. They began to back off, realizing that Hunter and Steve would escape for now, but the cruel and obvious truth was they had nowhere to hide; they were doomed.