Watch Your Step (23 page)

I turn around and see Elinor standing a few feet behind me.

“Want to join them?” she asks.

“Abe and Gabby?” I ask. “On the dance floor?”

She nods.

“With you?”

She nods again.

“Maybe in a few minutes?” I ask, regretting the words as I say them. “I just have to do one thing first.”

“I'll be here.”

We exchange smiles. Then I reluctantly leave her and hurry around the beach. Besides Houdini, I see Samara. Wyatt. Devin. Lizzie. They're eating and drinking, talking and laughing. They don't seem concerned that no one from the party's original guest list has made it here. Deciding not to attract attention by asking them if they know where Annika is, I duck behind a tree and take out my K-Pak.

TO:
[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT:
Beach Bash No-Shows

Hi Annika,

Capital T and the rest of the Troublemakers have made it to tonight's party. Our teachers and the Kamp Kilter staff have really outdone themselves this time—everything looks great!

Just one question. Where are our parents? The party flyer said attendance was mandatory, so I'm just wondering where they are. Did they have another event before this one? That's maybe running late?

If you could let me know as soon as you can, that'd be great. Abe, Lemon, Gabby, Elinor, and I just want to make sure we're doing our jobs!

Thanks!

—Seamus

I hit send. Annika writes back immediately.

TO:
[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT:
RE: Beach Bash No-Shows

Dear Seamus,

You were right to write. Your parents should be there—and nowhere else.

Stay put. I'll have your teachers find them ASAP.

—Annika

I put away my K-Pak and step out from behind the tree. As I start back toward the dance floor, I see Houdini, Lizzie, Samara, Wyatt, Fern, and Devin all jump and check their K-Paks. Then they casually put down their plates and cups, stroll to the back of the beach—and bolt into the woods.

Fortunately, Houdini hands over DJ duties to a Good Samaritan before leaving. The music keeps going. Which means I'll still get to dance with Elinor.

I wonder if DJ GS takes requests. If so, should I make one? Maybe something a little softer? A little slower? So that Elinor and I can—

“Gotcha!”

Whoever says this is right. One second I'm walking on the beach, looking at Elinor. And the next second, I'm hanging in midair as I look at a giant silver
K
.

“Didn't know that was coming, did you?”

I'm in some kind of net and scrunched up like Play-Doh in a can, but when I hear the familiar voice, my muscles relax.

“I definitely didn't,” I say.

Something beeps. The net lowers. When my bottom hits a hard surface, the mesh material loosens and falls away. I look around and see that I'm sitting on the ground in the middle of the woods.

I grin. “Hi, Ike.”

“Hey.” My tutor grins too. “Hope I didn't interrupt anything.”

“Nope.” Ducking my head so he can't see my cheeks turn pink, I climb to my feet. “So what's this? I don't think I've seen it before.”

There's another beep. The net lifts and lengthens. Strings shoot out from either end and wind around two tree trunks. When it's done, it looks like something that I'd like to hang out in with a book and a glass of lemonade.

“The Kilter Hammock Hauler,” Ike says. “Designed to snatch up any unsuspecting snoozer.”

“I wasn't snoozing,” I say. “I was walking.”

“And paying so little attention to your surroundings, you might as well have been sleeping.” Before I can disagree he asks, “Ready for a quick lesson?”

“Always.”

He holds up a pineapple. A tiny purple umbrella sticks out of the top of the fruit. Ike moves the umbrella right, and the hammock pulls taut. He moves the umbrella left, and the hammock loosens. When he bangs the top of the umbrella, the hammock strings release the tree trunks, the fabric comes together like a sack, and the strings knot at the top. All of this happens in about two seconds. Then Ike hits the top of the umbrella again, and the sack drops to the ground.

“It's pretty straightforward,” he says. “And as you just learned, your target doesn't need to actually be in the hammock in order for it to work. That's easiest, of course. And it's always nice when your prey wanders right into your trap. But when that doesn't happen, you just use the pineapple's built-in radar system to aim and fire. The Hammock Hauler does the rest.” He looks at me. “Want to try?”

“Definitely.”

He hands me the pineapple. I fiddle with the umbrella for a few minutes to get the hang of it.

Ike nods to a nearby rock. “I'll give you twenty demerits for that.”

Zeroing in on my target, I press a button on the bottom of
the pineapple. A thin, silver beam of light shoots out. When the light hits the middle of the rock, the pineapple beeps. I press the top of the umbrella. The Hammock Hauler swoops toward the rock, lifts it up, and folds around it. The strings tie together. Now in the makeshift sack, the rock drops back to the ground.

“Nice work,” Ike says. “How about thirty demerits for that bush over there?”

“That's, like, rooted in the dirt?”

“Yup.”

“No problem,” I say more confidently than I feel.

But the Hammock Hauler doesn't disappoint. It takes a few joystick adjustments, but soon the bush is pulled from the dirt and dropped back to the ground.

“I'm going to replant that right away,” I say.

Ike gives me a few more targets. I catch them all, each faster than the one before. By the time we're done, I've racked up two hundred demerits.

“Impressive as always,” Ike says. “And now you should get back to the party.”

The party. Elinor. My parents. I don't think I've been gone that long, but I've been so focused on my lesson it's hard to be
sure. Hopefully, I haven't missed anything important.

“That's probably a good idea,” I say. “But before I go, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

I take a big breath. “A few days ago? During our last lesson in the treetops? You said something I've been wondering about ever since.”

“How donuts are a better breakfast than fish sticks and maple syrup?”

“No, although I don't get that either.” I give him a quick smile. “But I'm talking about the other thing. When you said I should be—”

“Seamus!”

My mouth snaps shut. I look at Ike. He looks at my K-Pak, which is sticking out of my pants pocket.

“Earth to Seamus! Hello? Are you there? Pick up!
Right now!
”

I yank out the K-Pak. The screen's flashing with a v-chat request from Abe, whose loud, anxious voice is the one barking at me.

I accept the request. The video feed turns on. And I instantly forget whatever it was I wanted to ask Ike. All I can do is stare, unblinking, at the screen.

Where Shepherd Bull is staring back at me.

U
m, guys? I don't know
how much longer I'll last.”

“Just a few more minutes, Gabby,” I say. “Please. If you can.”

“But I haven't blinked in eleven minutes and it's kind of dusty in here and my eyes are starting to wig out.”

“Then blink,” Abe says. “Give your eyes a half-second break. And keep going.”

“Can't. Closing them breaks the bind.”

As Gabby keeps her eyes aimed straight ahead, Elinor stands right behind her.

“You're not in a dusty shed,” she says near Gabby's ear. “You're in a beautiful, shiny, sparkly shopping mall.”

Gabby eyes widen ever so slightly.

“You're strolling past all of your favorite stores,” Elinor continues. “When you reach your favorite one—”

“Sassy Threads?” Gabby asks.

“Yes,” Elinor confirms. “When you reach that one, you stop. There's an outfit in the window. It's so beautiful, you can't take your eyes off of it.”

Still unblinking, Gabby nods slowly. “Yes. Yes, I
see
it. There's a long blue skirt. And a belt made of sapphires. And  . . .”

Gabby and Elinor keep talking. So do Abe and I.

“This wasn't part of the plan,” I whisper.

“Capturing an Incriminator?” Abe asks. “I know. But he was lurking in the shadows. Carrying that enormous stick. So close to the party. I thought he and his dirty friends had to be up to something, and I didn't want to find out what that was. Especially with so many Troublemakers right there. I mean, if
we
didn't capture
him
, maybe
they
would've captured all of
us
.”

I glance at Shepherd Bull. He sits on a stack of three silver inner tubes, the kind we've seen some Troublemaker parents floating
around in on the lake. His ankles and wrists are bound together with silver beach towels. A tennis ball's lodged in his mouth.

They're decent constraints. On anyone else they'd be perfect. But on the child-giant, the towels look like ribbon and the tennis ball looks like a piece of bubble gum.

They're working, though, because in the ten minutes I've been here, he hasn't moved an inch. Gabby's icy stare, which no one's immune to, is also helping keep him in place.

“How'd you even do it?” I ask Abe quietly. “He must weigh more than you, Gabby, and Elinor combined.”

Abe stands up straighter and squares his shoulders, clearly proud of his accomplishment. “When I first spotted him, I alerted the girls to the situation. Lemon, as usual, was nowhere to be found. I looked for you, too, but you'd totally ditched us.”

“Sorry,” I say. “Surprise troublemaking training session.”

“I figured. Anyway, I told the girls what was up. We scattered for a bigger spy scope. Shepherd Bull snuck around for a little while, staying far enough away from the party that you wouldn't notice him unless you looked for him—but close enough that he could make a split-second attack if he wanted to. He carried that stick the whole time.”

I look at the long, skinny stick leaning against one wall of the inner-tube shed. In the hands of anyone else it'd seem like an ordinary tree branch. But in the hands of Shepherd Bull, it was definitely a potential weapon.

“I saw him sneak in here,” Abe says. “So I grabbed some towels from the stand by the lake and a stray tennis ball from the beach. Then Gabby, Elinor, and I burst in, locked the door, and tied him up.”

“He must've put up some fight,” I say.

“Not really—which was weird. He resisted at first, I guess because we caught him by surprise. But when he realized what we were doing, he pretty much let us do it. Except when we tried to take away the stick. He didn't like that.”

Shepherd Bull grunts. I'm not sure if this is because he hears us talking about him and agrees that he wanted to hold on to his weapon, or if it's because his eyes, locked on Gabby's, are getting tired too.

“My guess is he's going easy on us so we'll lower our defenses,” Abe says. “And the instant he thinks we don't suspect he'll attack—he will. That's why Gabby has him locked in her death stare.”

“Good idea,” I say. “But you didn't think you should keep watching him instead of tying him up? Like Annika told us to?”

“The situation seemed too risky to just let him and his friends do whatever they came to do.”

I scan the shed. Besides us and about a thousand inner tubes arranged in tall stacks, it's empty.

“Where are his friends?” I ask.

“Don't know. No one's come to claim him. And the party's still raging out there.”

I follow his nod to a small window. It offers a clear view of the beach, where our classmates are still eating and dancing like they haven't a care in the world. Our teachers are missing, as are our parents.

“I have a theory.”

I turn back. Abe's standing so close I can see the small pimple just under his nose.

“About why he didn't resist,” he whispers. “Once he realized what we were doing.
And
saw who we were. Want to hear?”

“Not really,” I say, since I'm pretty sure this theory has something to do with Elinor's traitor ways. “But I
would
like to know what you think we should do with him. Now that we have him.”

Abe eyes his catch. “I think we turn him over to Annika. She might give us a million demerits each for capturing such an important target.” He glances at me. “You probably won't get any. Since you didn't help. Sorry.”