Here Comes Mr. Trouble

him.

Peter then took off running down the street, but his friend wasn’t so lucky. He stumbled forward, trying to pull the object out of his arm. When he finally got it out, he was only able to stare at it for a second before collapsing to the ground.

“Ronan!” Fiona yelled.

The two other surrogates were no longer walking toward the front door. They were running.

“Ronan!”

Mr. Trouble looked like he wanted to take off after Peter, but he looked back at the sound of his name and quickly changed directions. As he passed Uncle Carl, he motioned toward the rapidly departing Peter Garr. “Get him!”

Uncle Carl looked nervous, but did as he was told.

“Hey, over here!” Mr. Trouble yelled at the two surrogates rushing across the lawn.

Neither turned.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

Mr. Trouble raised his weapon and fired twice.

Pfffft. Pfffft.

The surrogate closest to the door suddenly arched his back and fell to the ground, unconscious. But the dart intended for the other one just missed its target, sailing through the air until it hit the door with a thwap.

Eric staggered back. “Close it!” he yelled at Fiona.

The remaining surrogate leapt onto the small porch and got a hand on the door just before Fiona was able to shut it all the way. As the door started opening again, she put her shoulder against it and tried to force it closed.

“Help me!” she shouted.

Eric jumped up next to her, turning so that he could put his back against the door and use his legs for leverage.

But instead of closing, the door opened further.

“We need to push harder,” she said.

Eric grunted as he shoved harder, but to no use. The door kept moving toward them, finally opening enough to allow the surrogate to stick his head inside. His eyes were open so wide Eric could see a large band of white all around each iris, but as creepy as that was, the smile on the surrogate’s face was worse.

As soon as he caught sight of Eric, he wedged his shoulders through the gap and grabbed Eric’s arm.

“You’re coming with me,” he announced, pulling Eric toward him.

“Let go of him!” Fiona yelled. She grabbed Eric’s other arm and pulled him in the opposite direction.

The surrogate laughed and gave Eric a hard tug. Fiona cried out as she lost her grip and slipped to the floor.

“I believe she told you to let go of him,” Mr. Trouble said calmly from outside.

The surrogate whipped his head around. “Get ba—”

Pfffft.

The surrogate went rigid, hanging between the door and the jamb for a second, and then, as if in slow motion, he slid all the way down to the floor.

“Anybody home?” Mr. Trouble asked, knocking on the door.

Eric stepped out of the way as Fiona pulled it open. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Can we go now?”

Mr. Trouble glanced over at Eric. “Hanging in there?”

“I guess,” Eric said, still in shock.

“That’s good enough for me.” His gaze moved down to the girls on the floor. “If you two take Maggie, I’ll get Keira.”

Mr. Trouble dragged the unconscious surrogate out of the way and pulled a large dart out of the guy’s back.

Eric and Fiona then picked up Maggie and carried her out the door. Mr. Trouble followed a second later with Keira in his arms. As they walked toward the sedan, two dark shadows stepped from across the street into the light.

Uncle Carl and Peter Garr.

Peter stood behind Uncle Carl, holding a small, odd-looking gun that Uncle Carl must have been carrying. He raised it into the air and placed it against Uncle Carl’s neck.

“Ca…careful with that,” Uncle Carl said.

The surrogate paid him no attention. “Stop walking,” he said to the others.

Mr. Trouble moved around Eric and Fiona, and didn’t stop until he was ten feet away from the surrogate. Eric and Fiona waited a couple of feet behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Uncle Carl said.

Mr. Trouble smiled. “Don’t worry, Uncle Carl. At least you tried.”

“What kind of gun is that?” Eric whispered to Fiona.

“Injection gun,” she whispered back. “You know, gives you a shot without using a needle.”

“The boy,” Peter said. “Give him to me, and you can have this one back.”

Eric heard the gate to Maggie’s backyard open. “I think the others are coming,” he said.

“No problem.” Mr. Trouble winked at Eric, then said, “It’s Peter, right? Look, Peter, I’d love to hang around and haggle with you, but I just don’t have time.”

In a single, sudden movement, he flipped Keira over his shoulder and brought up his dart gun.

Pfffft.

Peter had been hunched down behind Uncle Carl, using him as a shield.

It was a good plan, but not perfect.

The dart flew low, only a few feet above the ground, then passed between Uncle Carl’s legs and smacked into Peter’s thigh.

“No!” Peter screamed, and then, like the other surrogates, he dropped to the ground.

“Everybody in,” Mr. Trouble ordered, as two more surrogates came running around the side of the house. “Quickly.”

Mr. Trouble twisted his body around and fired off two more darts, each hitting their targets. At the same time, Eric, Fiona, and Uncle Carl climbed into the back of the sedan and laid Maggie across their laps.

Mr. Trouble got the front passenger door open and tried to quickly shove Keira inside. He banged his sister’s head against the doorframe on the first try, but got her in on the second. He then retrieved the injection gun from Peter and passed it through the window to Uncle Carl. “Yours, I believe.”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry about that. He just—”

“Uncle Carl, it’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Here comes some more!” Eric yelled, pointing at a group of surrogates that had appeared from around the side of the house.

Mr. Trouble slid across the hood of the car and opened the driver’s door.

Pfffft. Pfffft. Pfffft. Pfffft. Click. Click.

He jumped into the car and tossed his gun back to Fiona. “There’s a box of darts under my seat.”

As he started the engine, Eric looked at Maggie’s front yard. Half a dozen surrogates were sprawled on the lawn, taken out by Mr. Trouble’s dart gun.

“What’s going to happen when someone sees all of them lying there?”

Mr. Trouble pulled the car away from the curb, shoving the accelerator to the floor. “No one will see them. The stuff in the darts only lasts an hour or so. They’ll be up and gone before anyone else wakes up.”

“But we made a lot of noise. Someone’s probably called the police by now. They’ve got to be on their way.”

“If anyone had called the police, they would have been there already. The stupor Keira and Maggie are still under? The Makers did that to the whole neighborhood.”

“How do you know that?”