The Strike Trilogy (13 page)

“Wow,” Tobin said. “Where’d you get it?”

“In that duffle bag of your father’s. Your dad was…a bit of a collector. Some people might have called him a thief, but he always preferred ‘collector.’ He was always taking souvenirs from the missions we went on, and keeping them in that bag.

“That’s why Gallymoora had been attacked—when it was already too late, I realized Vincent has been searching for something in that bag, even though he knows full-well he destroyed it years ago. But apparently he doesn’t want to take any chances.”

Tobin turned over the pocket watch and looked at it; it was blue and transparent, and inside he could see all of its mechanical parts—gears, cogs, a small gyroscope.

“Your father always used to say that watch was lucky,” Orion said, “and that if he ever got into any trouble, it would take him wherever he wanted to go. As far as I can tell, that was just your dad being your dad—making up stories to get a laugh—because I never saw it do anything.”

“Does it still work?”

“I don’t think so. But when we face Vincent, I thought maybe you’d like to take it with you, for good luck. Just in case.”

“Okay.” Tobin handed the watch back to Orion. “I will.”

“We’ll work tomorrow on teaching you how to use the portal pistol,” Orion said. “Step one to getting you back home. Sound good?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Tobin.”

“Goodnight. I think I’ll just sit out here for a little while longer.”

Tobin watched as Orion walked back into the museum. Then, when he was sure the old man was gone, he leapt off the landing area and onto a lower part of the mountain. When his boots hit the ground, he ran into a dense circle of trees.

Even though he was no longer angry, and even though he was embarrassed by how he had acted, Tobin still knew one thing: there was only one way to make sure his friends were safe.

After running into a small clearing, Tobin looked back at the mountaintop. The museum was now far off in the distance.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

The boy reached into his pocket, pulling out a red, chrome portal pistol. Earlier, without Orion knowing, he had snuck into the old man’s room and taken the bizarre device, hiding it away until now. He wished that he didn’t have to go this sneaky route, but felt he had no choice.

Nervously pointing the shining pistol away from him, Tobin pulled the trigger. There were different settings on the pistol, and different ways to fire it so you ended up exactly where you wanted to be on the other world, and when nothing happened, Tobin wasn’t sure he was using it correctly.

But then he felt the hair on his arms stick up. He felt his clothes cling to his body. There was electricity all around him, tingling in the air.

Then there was a red flash and a snap of lightning.

Tobin opened his eyes. A swirling, red-and-white, six-foot-tall portal was now hovering in front of him. Reaching forward, he stuck his hand into the mirrored gateway, and felt a tremendous burst of static run up his arm. “Whoa,” he said, pulling his hand back. It felt like it had fallen asleep.

The boy eyeballed the portal, taking a deep breath.

“Home, here I come. I hope, anyway.”

With more than a little trepidation, Tobin jumped into the portal and it closed behind him with a
SNAP
!

In the night sky above the town of Bridgton, Massachusetts, directly above Paul’s Auto Repair, a red dot appeared. At first it was non-discrete—no bigger and brighter than a star. But then, slowly, the dot grew. It grew bigger and brighter until it pulsated with red light and buzzed in the night. Finally, when it was the size of a small car—
CRACK!

The red circle was gone, and in its place there was a seventeen-year-old boy wearing a superhero costume.

But, Tobin couldn’t fly, and soon he was falling. Screaming the whole way down, he watched the auto repair shop’s roof grow closer until he crashed into it with a
THUD!
Stunned and shaken, he stood up, feeling a dull aching in his bones. Then he vomited over the side of the building.

“Ow,” he said, rubbing his elbows. “Something tells me that’s not how that’s supposed to work.”

Tobin looked over the other buildings in the area; he was in his hometown. He realized how long he had been gone, and how much he had missed it.

“Hello, Bridgton. It’s good to be back.”

With a grin, Tobin ran to the edge of the rooftop, leapt into the air, and landed on top of the next building. Then, eyeballing the next rooftop, he used his newfound strength to leap onto that building. After sizing up his next jump, he came to a conclusion:

“I really gotta talk to Orion about getting me a ‘Strike-Mobile’ or something.”

Leaping from rooftop-to-rooftop, Tobin continued his journey all the way down Middle Street, heading toward Thomas Grocery. There, he knew, he could cut through its parking lot, cross through the woods, and, in no time at all, be at his friend Jennifer’s house.

In the Museum of the Heroes, Keplar and Scatterbolt were sitting at a round table, sipping from sodas, and playing cards. At the top of the mountain, where they were now, there were bedrooms, a kitchen, and a common area, all set up for a time like this when the museum was needed as a place for people to stay for a short period of time. As both Keplar and Scatterbolt hadn’t felt like sleeping (or, in Scatterbolt’s case, didn’t need to sleep), the two friends had instead settled in for a long night of junk food, cards, and laughter.

“I bet...twenty-five,” Scatterbolt said, pushing a stack of chips across the table.

“Okay, you got it.”

Keplar threw his own chips into the pile, then put his cards down, face-up. “Three of a kind,” he chuckled. “Sorry, SB. Maybe next time.”

The dog reached for the chips, but then Scatterbolt showed his cards.

“I have all the same color.”

Keplar looked at the cards in astonishment. Happily, Scatterbolt wrapped his arms around the chips and gathered every last one.

“What the…?!” the dog said. “You played a seven and a three? Who the heck plays a seven and a three?”

The robot shrugged and counted his money. “They were all the same color.”

Keplar threw the cards down and sighed, giving up.

Meanwhile, several floors below Keplar and Scatterbolt, Orion was sitting at the small duck pond in the rear exhibit of the main gallery, tossing some breadcrumbs to a trio of quacking ducks. The old man was grateful for the birds’ company, as tonight he just couldn’t sleep, and needed something to take his mind off all that was troubling him. As he threw his last piece of bread into the pond, he turned, looking out the open window at the trees outside. He could not shake the feeling that something had gone wrong.

Taking long, quiet footsteps, Tobin walked through the deep woods until he reached a spot where he could get a clear view of Jennifer’s house. As he peered out from behind a tree, he was relieved to see that all was quiet—the house looked exactly the same as any other time he had visited.

“Well,” he said, “everything looks fine, I guess. But I should probably stay for a little while longer, just to make sure.”

As he sat down on a large rock, Tobin watched the house. He found it was nice to simply sit there, away from all the craziness of Capricious. However, as he thought and remembered what everything was like before, he did not notice something shuffling behind him.

In the museum, Keplar and Scatterbolt were just about to start another game of cards when Orion burst in.

“Where is he?!” the old man shouted. “Where is he?!”

Keplar was startled. “Whoa, Orion, where’s the fire, buddy?”

The old man dashed by the card table. “The boy! Where is the boy?” He opened the kitchen door, looked inside, and then slammed it shut.

“I don’t know,” Keplar said, looking to Scatterbolt. “In his room sleeping, I guess? What the hell is going on?”

Orion rushed to Tobin’s room, flung open the door, and turned on the light. But the bed was empty.

“Dammit,” Orion whispered.

Outside of Jennifer’s house, Tobin was sitting on the rock, with his elbows on his knees, his chin in his palms, and his desire to leave waning by the second.

But then, suddenly, he heard something move behind him. He sat up, startled, and turned around.

A Gore was standing there, only a few yards away. As it stared at the boy, its red eyes were blinking out of the darkness of its hood, and it was raising one of its two-clawed hands.

Tobin stood up and removed his bo-staff from his back. “Get away,” he said. “Get away…”

But then there was more movement to Tobin’s right. He turned.

Two Eradicators were looking at him. The moonlight was shining off of their black armor, and as they lifted their fists, they pointed their wrist-mounted blasters at him. Stepping closer, they tilted their heads and studied the boy.

Tobin turned to run, but then stopped. What he saw took his breath away.

Orion dashed out of the museum, running toward the Sky-Blade. Keplar and Scatterbolt followed, confused and startled.

“Yo, Orion!” the husky shouted. “You mind telling us what the hell is going on?”