Authors: Auralee Wallace
“Um, Ryder?” I called out.
No response.
“A little help over here?”
Nothing.
My hands slipped a fraction of an inch.
“Ryder!”
I screamed all the way down and hit the floor like I meant it. I really needed to have a word with Ryder about her situational ethics.
I sat in the rubble for a moment blinking dust and smoke out of my eyes. This had to be a storage area because costumes littered the floor, thanks to the explosion.
As I struggled to get up, I felt something under my right hand. I wiped my eyes again to get a better look. A small, black mask. Fancy that.
I couldn’t risk showing up on the news again. I was already on my father’s radar. This could be just the ticket.
I picked up the finely wrought mask and tried it on. It fit perfectly.
Oh yeah. Now I was ready to kick some ass.
I picked my way through the wreckage towards a door marked Exit. Even without the glowing red sign, I knew which way to go. I just had to follow the screaming.
I quickly found myself in a wood-panelled hallway. The obvious route would have been to take the stairs just in front of me leading down to the theatre below, but to my left, I noticed a small passageway ending in a door labelled Upper Stage. Hmm, the door was slightly ajar. A great tip-off for someone with my observational powers. Of course, the hog-tied contortionist with tape over her mouth lying in front of it was also a clue, but I never would have missed that door.
I walked over to the poor woman tied with her inner knees wrapped over her shoulders. She didn’t look terribly uncomfortable. Wasn’t struggling either. In fact, she was just lying there, staring glassy-eyed at the other wall. Huh.
I stepped carefully over her and poked my head around the door.
I saw a little landing, then lots of scaffolding, lights, ropes and other theatre equipment. Right in the middle of it all, perched in the rafters above the stage, was Ryder.
I started to crawl over the suspended ladder that led to her spot. I guess my movement caught her attention because she looked over. Her eyes actually bugged out a little when she saw me—which seemed out of character. She was a smart lady. She should have seen this coming.
I hurried over the last few planks to crouch beside her.
“Don’t worry about the whole leaving me hanging thing,” I said in a whisper. “I know you had to follow the Sultana.”
“I was not apologizing.”
I ignored that. No sense in quibbling. “So what’s happening?”
Ryder sighed ever so slightly and I followed her gaze down below. There stood the Sultana holding court center stage. All she was missing was one of those furry Viking helmets with the horns. The cast of the opera were huddled off to the side by the heavy velvet curtain, among them a large man dressed like a clown. He looked like a very sad clown indeed, especially with Pulcinella staring him down.
“I saw the girl you left out in the hall,” I whispered. “That was really considerate of you. I know the whole superhero modus operandi is to simply knock bad guys out and move on. But concussions are a big problem nowadays, and do you get the feeling that these circus-bots are not exactly operating under their own will? So it hardly seems fair, even if they are trying to kill us, to leave them with permanent brain damage. I mean—”
I turned to look at Ryder to see if she was picking up what I was putting down. She didn’t say anything, but a tiny muscle flexed by her jaw.
Suddenly the evil clown’s voice screamed from below.
“Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen! I’m Pulcinella, and you’re in for a treat!” The rest of the performers stood at attention while he bounded across the stage. “As I am sure you have already noticed, the exits to your right and left have been locked tight, tight, tight!”
“What do you think their plan is?” I whispered.
Ryder turned her face towards mine slowly with something that looked like murder in her eyes.
“Right, we should probably just listen,” I agreed quickly. “Pulcinella seems to be one of those criminals you see in movies who gives away the entire plan. I thought the Sultana might do it back at the balloon, but she didn’t. I hate that in movies though. You’re watching thinking, just kill her already. You’re totally giving her time to think up a plan! And then you’re like, wait she’s not real, it’s the writers who—”
Ryder held up a single hand to my face then flexed her fingers into a claw.
“Right. Sorry,” I whispered. I really had to work on my nervous babbling.
“Now, may I present to you the most exotic, the most mysterious, the most beautiful of the Ottoman beauties! Delilah the Circassian Sultana!”
“I’ve been thinking,” I whispered, “If you wanted, I could introduce you like that.”
No answer.
“Okay, you’re right. Not cool.”
The Sultana’s musical voice called out next. “Welcome everyone! I am delighted to be here. Tonight’s show promises to be our most thrilling ever.” She sashayed her way to the front of the stage. “Now, I know you are all anxious to get started. I am too. But first a short delay. Please note our fascinating cast of entertainers is making their way through the aisles to visit with each and every one of you. If you would be so kind as to hand over any and all valuables, then, we can get started!” She placed a conspiratorial hand at the side of her mouth before adding, “You won’t want to miss the ending. We’re going out with a bang!”
A woman began shrieking, loudly. The other theatregoers looked at her, horrified. The sound quickly died in her throat. Jeez. Tough crowd.
“They have planted explosives,” Ryder said quietly. “There, there and there.” She pointed to the orchestra, the box seats, and the pillars at the back of the room.
“What? When?”
How did I keep missing these things?
“We have to stop this.”
Finally, she was acknowledging the
we
in this situation.
“Okay, what do we do?”
“To begin, I will need you to listen. Do not attempt anything on your own.”
“No problem.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously,” I said, holding her really terrifying eye contact. “No problem.”
Ryder’s eyes flicked from mine back to the scene below. “Delilah won’t have the detonator on her this time. She won’t take the chance. My guess is the bombs are set to a timer. She has most likely given herself enough time to escape with her crew, but not too much. I will need to get to the bombs and disarm each one individually.”
I nodded sharply. “Good plan. Tell me which wire to cut, and I’ll help.”
“That is not what I need you to be.”
I was getting a bad feeling about this. “Oookay, what do you need me to be?”
“A distraction.” And with that, Ryder pushed me, ever so gently, off the ledge.
I tumbled from the scaffolding, landing hard in a cart full of hay.
I blinked my eyes and gave my head a shake.
Okay, I could work with this plan. I was still alive…and I was helping.
I was also directly under the pointy end of the Sultana’s automatic weapon.
“We meet again,” she said smoothly.
“Hey,” I replied, carefully crab-walking my way out of the cart.
I glanced towards the glazed-over performers, bags full of loot, awaiting instruction at the front of the stage. Even the bearded lady stared out glassy-eyed. It made me kind of sad. His lipstick didn’t match his dress. I would have liked to have told him so.
“Aren’t you the pesky one?”
I looked back to my main adversary. She wore a black leather catsuit, much like mine…except hers had some self-respect. Her dark hair once again raged in a storm cloud above her head, but the front lay smooth, held back with tiny pin curls. To finish the look, a thin snake curled around her throat.
“What brings you here this evening?” she asked. “And in a mask no less?”
“Don’t you mean, My God! You’re alive!” I shouted. “You pushed me from a hot air balloon, remember? I should be dead!”
I flicked my gaze up to the rafters. Ryder had disappeared. I hoped she was working fast. This distraction thing was harder than it looked.
“I think your death would have made the news,” the Sultana answered.
Her words gave me an idea. Time to act on a hunch. “So tell me, how did my father react when he found out you almost killed me?”
A trace of concern crossed the Sultana’s face. “I take orders from no man.”
Her answer told me all I needed to know. Okay, maybe not all, but I was feeling pretty clever.
There
was
a connection between the Sultana and my father. She had recognized me right away at the bank, and it had made her nervous. Plus the circus crew was now under some sort of mind control, and that couldn’t be a coincidence given what my father was up to. But what was the link? My father was supposed to be fighting crime. How could he possibly benefit from lending his technology to the Sultana? It would be a public relations disaster. No, something more was going on here.
But I had to save my Sherlocking for later—I had bigger problems.
I peered past the stage lights anchored to the floor. I could barely make out Ryder. She was clinging to the first box seat working furiously away at the device mounted to the wall. How many more bombs had she said there were?
Suddenly Pulcinella bounded across the stage landing directly in front of me. “Why are you here? Why? Why? WHY?”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
“Can I kill her?” the very bad clown asked the Sultana. She seemed to be considering it.
I needed to do something fast.
Luckily, I had just the thing.
My secret weapon.
I whipped the device out from my back collar and smacked it on the floor.
“What is
that
?” Pulcinella screeched.
“Well, I will tell you…just as soon as I turn it on,” I said fumbling with the buttons.
The weapon was the width of a deck of cards, but three times as long.
I finally found the on switch and put my thumb on it. Then I took a chance and called out, “Hit the lights!”
Sure enough, the theatre suddenly went dark. Bless the lighting technician. It was heartening to know somebody had faith in me. I flicked the switch.
Music and pulsating lights blasted into the theatre from my small but mighty weapon.
“What is that?” Pulcinella screamed again.
“That my dear friend, is a DIY puke ray, courtesy of the internet,” I called out using a voice deep from my chest. “
Disco Inferno
is courtesy of me.” I had strapped my mini MP3 onto the back of my ray as a last minute thought. Music makes the moment.
“Turn it off!” the clown howled, grabbing the sides of his head. “I’m going to be sick!”
“You mean it works?” I yelled back over the music. I had hoped…but it was hard to believe. I peeked around to see it from their angle and instantly wished I hadn’t. I stumbled back clutching my stomach.
The second I felt better, I found my deep chest voice once again, planted my hands on my hips, and called out, “Ha-ha! Looks like the two of you have finally met your match!”
Pulcinella roared. Through the dizzying lightshow, I saw him stomp forward and raise one foot.
His over-sized shoe crashed down on my device.
Silence and darkness once again filled the room.
“Donna Summers would not be pleased,” I said softly.
I took a moment to mourn the loss. This device was never intended to be used against the likes of the Sultana. I figured Ryder would start me off with somebody easy…somebody like Mr. Flasher. That was who the device was for. Now, it would never know true greatness.
“Lights!” the Sultana ordered.
The house lights came up.
Et tu
Lights Guy
? I thought mournfully.
I looked desperately out past the stage. Hundreds of well-dressed onlookers stared back at me with a mixture of curiosity and horror.
Where was Ryder?
I was in serious trouble now. Would she risk sacrificing me once again to save everyone else?
The Sultana took a step towards me, gun still pointed at my face. I guess she really didn’t want to miss. Either that or her snake needed a better view.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Serious déjà vu washed over me. Why was this happening again? It was like some surreal recurrent nightmare. I hadn’t felt this way since I spent my twenty-first birthday repeatedly puking tequila on a prince’s yacht off the coast of Turkey. Who knew superheroing would involve so many guns and heights?
“It is your time.”
I opened one eye, a crack. The Sultana and her gun blocked most of the view, but, behind her, I spotted something move.
My eyes darted back to the demented woman’s face.
“This is where it ends,” she purred.
I squeezed my eyes shut again.
Ryder would save me. Ryder would save me.
Suddenly a clarion voice shattered the silence. “This
is
indeed where it ends Delilah!”
Yes!
My eyes flew back open just in time to see Ryder flying out of the darkness, limbs spread, like the most terrifying flying squirrel ever known to man.
“Yah!” I shouted as the Sultana went down.
Her gun slid across the floor in my direction. Nope. I wasn’t touching it. I had learned my lesson.
“Freaks! Attack!” Pulcinella screamed.
Ryder was attempting the same hog-tie she had used on the bot upstairs, but the Sultana was giving her a run for her money, and now the entire circus was tumbling its way across the stage.
The gun lay practically at my feet. I think it may have even called my name. But I was
not
going pick it up. I had made a promise to Ryder that I would not try anything without her express permission.
I was going to keep that promise.
I pinned my hands under my armpits and watched. Ryder was now spinning and leaping through the air, long limbs striking muscular circus performers everywhere I looked. She was a midnight blur of speed and power.
But the thrill of watching her quickly turned to fear. Any normal human would have given into the power behind her blows, but these were not normal humans. Every time a bot hit the ground, it would bounce back up again like a tricked-out zombie.