stopped moving to listen, the hairs on his neck stiff as arrows. The sound was the wail of a lost child mixed with the terrified squeal of an animal in the butchering house. The effect of it bouncing off the walls made it seem like it was coming from every direction at once. Sato felt like getting back into the steel cage of the lift and going back up to safety.
The sound stopped, slicing silent as quickly as if someone had turned off a loud television. Shouts rang out, several voices yelling something incomprehensible-but Sato could clearly hear the anger and the lunacy in the voices. Sato’s wariness turned into downright terror.
He closed his eyes, breathed, worked to calm himself. His heartbeat slowed; the blood in his veins stopped acting like it was trying to find a way to escape. After a full minute, he opened his eyes and took off his backpack. He rummaged around its contents until he found the packet containing the blood sample kit. There were three syringes in case one of them broke, each with a very long and nasty-looking needle covered with a plastic sheath to prevent unwanted pokes. He’d never been fond of shots, and the sight of the needles made him thankful he’d not be the one getting stuck.
Sato set the syringes on the stone floor, then looked back at the elevator, checking to make sure he knew how it worked. Just inside the cage, the lever Klink had used jutted out of a dented box of rusty steel, slanted toward the ground.
Sato entered the elevator, gripped the lever with both hands, and lifted; he groaned and felt blood rush to his face until the lever finally gave way and snapped up. With a loud clunk the elevator started moving upward. Sato quickly slammed the switch back down. The steel cage jolted to the floor with a metallic boom.
Some escape route, he thought.
He stepped out of the elevator, slung the backpack onto his shoulders, then very carefully put two of the syringes in his left jeans pocket, making sure not to push down on them. The other he held in his right hand, gripped like a dagger, and removed the protective plastic covering. Having no idea what he was about to get into, he had to be ready for quick action. Stab, extract, run, he thought.
His only problem-other than perhaps being mauled to death by a bunch of crazy people-was knowing which of the asylum inmates were infected with Chu’s mysterious disease and which were simply crazy. They probably wouldn’t be too keen on chitchatting about it.
Blowing a breath through his lips, Sato walked forward.
Chapter 27
All righty den,” Sally said after taking a long swallow from his water glass. He set it down on the nightstand, then turned his eyes toward Tick. “Your turn.”
Sally had made Paul and Sofia summarize in their own words what he’d come to tell them. He said it was to make sure the gist of it got “nailed up in dem there noggins a’yorn.” As the weight of Sally’s information settled on their shoulders, Tick at least felt some ease in knowing more about what lay behind the craziness of the last few days.
He put his right foot up on his left knee. “Well, we were supposed to be winked to the Realitant Headquarters at the Grand Canyon for a meeting about the weird stuff Reginald Chu is up to. But before that could happen, Chu tricked us and put a device on our arms that hijacked our nanolocators.”
“Which means what, now?” Sally asked, his eyebrows raised.
“That Reginald Chu controls us now. He can track us and wink us wherever he wants to. And there’s not a thing anyone can do about it.”
Sally shook his head in disgust. “Purtin’ near one of da worst things I reckon a man can do. Matter-fact, breakin’ Rule Number 462 bans you from dem there Realitants ’til the day you is deader than a squirrel on a tire’s underbelly.”
“Hey, let Tick finish,” Sofia said. “We need to make sure we all understand everything you told us.”
“Fair ’nuff,” Sally said.
“Anyway,” Tick continued, “you said it looks like Chu is testing us and some other people to see who’s most worthy to help him in a secret project he’s working on. And the project has something to do with a disease or plague that’s making people go crazy in some of the Realities.”
Tick paused, not really wanting to say the next part.
“Get on wid it,” Sally prodded.
“Master George wants us to keep going. He wants us to be the ones who make it. He wants us to win Chu’s contest. It’s the only way we can make sure the Realitants get there to stop it-whatever it is.”
After a long pause, Paul said, “You’re the man, Tick. Took Sofia about three hours to say what you just said.”
“Well,” Tick said, “that’s pretty much it, isn’t it? We have to keep going, even though it seems like Chu doesn’t care if we make it or die trying. Not that much fun to think about, let alone talk about.”
Sofia stood from her chair and walked to the window, where she parted the curtain just enough to peek out. “This is so creepy. It was bad enough knowing Master George tracked us last year. Now we’ve got some power- hungry mad scientist controlling our lives. There has to be a way to get rid of those nanolocators, right?”
“Then you’d be missing the point,” Paul said. “Which is shocking considering how long you took to talk about it.”
“I’m not missing the point,” Sofia said as she turned back toward the group. “Even if we could get rid of them, we wouldn’t because we need to keep pretending that we’re trying to win.”
“Not only that,” Tick said. “We need Chu to think we don’t know he’s behind it all.”
“Dang, you kids are plumb smart,” Sally said. “When I’s a youngun like you, I was happier than a crawdaddy at high tide if I could add up my own two feet.”
“I think you’re wrong, Tick,” Paul said, ignoring Sally. “I don’t think Chu gives one flip about what we know. He seems like a ruthless dude who doesn’t care jack-squat about rules or whatever. All he cares about is who’s standing at the end. It doesn’t matter how we get there.”
“Maybe,” Tick said. “But it still seems smarter to play along as much as we can.”
“Say we do make it,” Sofia asked, sitting on the corner of the bed, addressing Sally. “What are we supposed to do once we get there?”
Sally nodded, pausing a long time before he answered. “Dat there’s a dang ol’ good question, miss. I reckon George is tryin’ to figger dat one out as we sit here talkin’.”
“What are you going to do?” Paul asked.
“I’ll be gettin’ on back to the homestead,” Sally said, rubbing his hands together. “Ya’ll keep mosin’ along on dis here joyride, and I’ll come find ya when we’s got further word.”
“How are you going to find us? How did you find us?” Tick asked.
“I’d reckoned you woulda done asked me dat. Took me forever to find ya the first time ’cuz the signal was weak. But don’t you remember me shovin’ my finger in ya ear?”
Tick couldn’t have forgotten. “Yeah, what was that for?”
“I put one of dem fancy Earwig Transponder thingamajigs in there. Now George can track ya better and stifle some of dem spyin’ devices inside ya.”
Tick reached up and rubbed his ear, then poked his index finger in as deep as it would go. “You put what in my ear?”
“Doncha fret, now,” Sally said. “Ain’t like it’s gonna eat your dang ol’ brain or nuttin’.”
Tick was about to protest further when someone rapped on the door with a hard and urgent knock. Sofia and Paul jumped to their feet; Sally moved faster than Tick would have believed-running to the door and yanking it open in a matter of two seconds.
No one stood there, but a note had been stuck to the door with a piece of clear tape. Sally ripped it off, read through the words, then walked over and handed it to Tick.
“Read it,” Sally said. “I’m goin’ to look for the rat who left it.” He left the room, marching like he was going
