Day of Doom (17 page)

doorway with her henchmen, looking

triumphant.

The large truck barreled down the road. Inside the back were the hostages, chainedto the truck wall. They all felt every bumpand every swerve. Some of them lookedsick to their stomachs. They had beenriding in the back of the truck for whatseemed like days, but actually had beenabout fifteen hours. After one nauseatinglurch, which slammed him against the sideof the truck, Ted Starling threw up.

“Oh, gross,” complained Natalie as she tried to move away from the pile of sick   on   the   truck   floor.   “That’s disgusting.”

“Better get used to seeing it,” said Fiske, who looked very pale indeed. “I think before this ride is over we’re all

going to vomit.”

As they went over the top of a hill, the truck almost seemed to take flight. Several of the hostages clutched at their stomachs.

Ian said, “I think I’m going to be sick, too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said his sister. “Lucians don’t get sick to their stomachs.”

As the truck gave another sickening lurch, Natalie turned green and threw up. She stared down in horror at the pool of

puke.

“You might want to check your Lucian status,” moaned Nellie.

Nellie wasn’t nauseated, but she’d been getting slammed around with the truck’s movements, and her wounded shoulder had taken most of the impacts. She clutched at it with her hand, as though trying to push the pain away.

“I  bet  it’s   Cheyenne   driving,” complained Hamilton. “She’s a psycho. She’s probably deliberately hitting every pothole she can just to make us suffer.”

“Of course she is,” snapped Evan. “She’s a Vesper. She’s evil. It’s what evil people do.”

Reagan said, “It’s cold in here. I suggest that we all run in place and do push-ups to keep warm. Plus it’ll keep our

energy up.”

Fiske held up the shackles they all had on. “And exactly how would you like us to run, Reagan, dear, with these bloody things on?”

“That’s why I said
 
run in place
 
.”

“And fall over and knock ourselves

out?”  snapped  Nellie.   “I  think  the healthiest thing for us to do is stay still.”

“And perhaps we can just all shut up, too,” said Evan heatedly. He was still obviously upset about being captured.

“I can sing a song,” offered Jonah. “Word.”

“No!” everyone shouted in unison.

Evan eyed him threateningly. “Not one note, not one lyric, or I’ll cream you.”

“Why so hostile all of a sudden, bro?” asked Jonah innocently.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe being carried by a roller coaster to my death might be a reason,” snapped Evan. “So just sit there and do not even hum.”

Ted Starling sat in a far corner saying nothing. He was concentrating on every sound he could. He was trying to take in any information that could help him determine where they were being taken. He didn’t know if it would do any good, but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do right now.

Fiske pulled angrily on his shackles. Each of the hostages was tied together with the same long chain. The chain had been run through a large bolt in the wall of the truck. When Fiske pulled on the chain once more, it hit the side of the truck and dug a divot out of the wood.

Fiske stared at this divot and thensaid, “Listen up, everyone, I’ve got anidea.”

“You have a song you want me tosing?” said Jonah. “We could do a duet. I’ll be baritone. Just follow my lead.”

“I don’t have a song, you twit. I havea plan. To escape.”

In the cab of the truck Cheyenne wasindeed driving. And, as Hamilton hadspeculated, she was attempting to hitevery pothole, take every curve at topspeed, and do her best to make the truckfly over every steep rise in the road.

“I’ll bet they’re just loving the rideback there,” she said gleefully.

“Your infantile pleasure with pain and suffering is ingratiating,” said Sandy, who sat next to her. Casper sat on the other   side   of  him   looking   glum, principally because his sister wouldn’t let him drive.

“What do you mean by that?” snapped Cheyenne.

“How much longer?” asked Casper. “I’m hungry.”

“Just tell your stomach to shut up, dear brother,” barked Cheyenne. “We have a schedule to keep.”

“Look at that sky,” Sandy said with relish.

The others eyed the sky. Clouds were going across it so fast it still looked like one of those accelerated weather maps on TV.

Sandy rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be so good. I’m going tobe weatherman of the year.”

“What’s so great about that?” grunted Casper, who stared moodily out thewindow, but apparently without seeingwhat Sandy was referring to.

“What’s great about that, Casper,”began Sandy as though he were speakingto a child, “is that it has begun.”

“The Doomsday device?” exclaimed Cheyenne.

“No,” sneered Sandy. “The auroraborealis
.
  
Of  course   the   Doomsday

device.”

“Aurora   what?”   said   Casper,

sounding confused.

“The northern lights,” snapped his

sister. “He was being condescending,

which is really starting to get on my nerves.” She looked murderously at the weatherman.

“Now, now, Cheyenne. We’re all on the same team, right?” Sandy’s gaze bored into her.

She said, “Of course we are.”

“Excellent, because Vesper One does not tolerate disloyalty. In fact, he hates it so much the only punishment for it is immediate termination. And I don’t mean

losing one’s job.”

He looked over at Casper, who was staring at him nervously.

“You’ve both seen the refined ways that our peerless leader can dispose of his enemies. So, don’t become his enemies. Just go along for the ride.” He clapped them both on the shoulders. “And you’ll

have nothing to worry about. Otherwise, well, let’s not dwell on such unpleasant and lethal possibilities.”

Sandy closed his eyes and went to sleep while Casper and his sister shot nervous glances at each other.

The truck raced on while the sky kept doing extra-ordinarily odd things.

Isabel stared directly at Amy. “So close in DC. So close. How you escaped, I stillcan’t quite fathom. What did you tell thepolice?”

Dan started to say something. But Amy, sensing he was going to tell Isabelhow he had fooled her, said, “We toldthem enough to have them more than alittle interested in you. The FBI, too. Forthe record, they know you bought your

way out of prison. They know your AWW is a fraud. And they’re working very hard right now to see that you go back where you belong: prison. In fact, there are several agents on the train right now.”

Isabel had been looking at her darkly. Now she laughed. “I might have believed you up to that point. There’s nothing easier to spot than an FBI agent. And there are none aboard this train.”

“Are you absolutely certain of that?” asked Dan smugly.

“Yes, I am.” She turned to Atticus.

“The   last   Guardian.   The   truly
 
last

Guardian,” she said menacingly.

“Yes, I am,” replied Atticus quietly. “One of one. Tell me, how does it feel tobe number two?”

Isabel’s features turned even darker.

“You should not comment on things you

don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand a lot. I understand that the Vespers are evil and will sell each other out to get to the top. That makes all of you weak. It’s teamwork and selfsacrifice that makes winners. And that

means that you Vespers are losers. And you always will be.”

Isabel held out a hand and one of her guards immediately placed a syringe in it. She eyed it and took off the protective cap. “As you know, I’m singularly adept with poisons, along with my many other gifts. It’s just how my mind works. My
 
superior
 
mind.”

“Like your kids, Ian and Natalie? But they were smart enough to figure out you were a loser of a mother,” said Dan.

Isabel held up the syringe. “Thisconcoction is particularly nasty. Before itkills, it places the person in indescribablepain, for one hour. They will wish to die. And at the end of sixty minutes, that wishis granted.”

When she advanced on Atticus, first Jake, then Amy, and lastly Dan stepped infront of her.

She said, “Oh, don’t worry. Each ofyou will get your turn.”

“Really?” said Amy. “Well, let megive you
 
your
 
turn first.”

She kicked the syringe out of Isabel’shand. At the same moment, Jake plowedinto a guard, knocking the gun out of hishand.

A split second later the train roaredinto a tunnel. Every single light on the

train, including the emergency lighting, went out. They were plunged into total darkness.

The truck continued to bounce along. Inthe front seat, Sandy was still soundasleep.

Casper had rolled down his windowand was checking his reflection in thetruck’s side mirror. He looked at his sister

as she steered the big vehicle.

He said, “Do I look like I’m putting on weight? My cheeks look a bit plump and my jawline doesn’t seem as classical as before.”

She gave him a vicious stare. “Whocares? And put the mirror back to where it

was. I can’t see on that side.”

He grumpily did so.

As the miles piled up he checked to make sure Sandy was still sleeping and said, “So, the plan is all set for when we get there?”

Cheyenne shot a glance at Sandy, listened to his soft snores, and said, “Yes. He’ll never see it coming.”

Casper chuckled. “Can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“Yeah.”

“So cool and cruel. What could be

better?”

“And you’ll definitely make the top six,” she said.

Casper frowned. “What happened in Switzerland wasn’t my fault.”

She shrugged. “You can believe that

if you want.”

Casper folded his arms across his chest.   “You’re   V-Six   now.   You’ll definitely move up.”