Abby Carnelia's One and Only Magical Power (22 page)

Phil didn't appreciate that remark. “Yes, there will be a lot of money. Every company tries to make money. But we intend to share that money with you, Ben, and Abby, and the other kids—of course we do. You are the ones who will make it all possible, after all.”

Phil had given a great speech, but Abby was feeling more annoyed than anything. “So if this is all so noble and so great, why are you keeping it all a secret? Why go to all the trouble of building a national chain of magic camps, just to find the kids who have powers?”

Phil smiled. “Well, we couldn't just come out and advertise what we're really doing, could we? ‘Kids! Got a special power that seems pointless? Friends make fun of you? Come to our labs where we can study you, examine you, and run you through our machines!' I don't think
many parents would sign up for that program. And besides . . . that would tell the other big pharma companies what we're up to. And we can't have that, can we?”

Abby looked down at her lap.

“Look, Abby . . . Ben. I know this is a lot to handle. But we've been working on this project for years, ever since we first became aware that there were these specially gifted children. You have the power to help so many people. To save lives. And maybe, if you're the kid who leads us to discovering your secret, to make a lot of money. Won't you just stay for one more week, so we can have our Level 2 researchers look you over? It's just a few days of . . . discomfort, in exchange for the possibility of helping us find a huge medical breakthrough. Can I count on you?”

Abby and Ben didn't believe Phil for a second. They knew perfectly well that he wasn't really giving them a choice; he had no intention of letting them go home before he was ready. If they were going to get out of there, it would have to be without Phil's help—and the first step would be to play along.

“Okay, Phil,” Ben said, standing up. “Just a few more days.”

“Thank you,” said Phil. “And do we also have an understanding that this program needs to remain a secret? If you told anyone, like your parents or even the other kids
here, it could destroy everything we've worked so hard to build here. Do we have a deal?”

Ben nodded.

“You, too, Abby?”

Her heart wasn't in it, but she nodded anyway.

“Okay, then,” Phil concluded. “Enough serious stuff. You've missed half an hour of morning class already. Why don't I have Ferd take you back to the labs? And I'll see to it that a special yummy surprise is delivered to your rooms tonight, as my way of thanking you for your understanding.”

I understand, all right,
Abby thought, boiling with anger.
What I understand is that we're all just a bunch of South American ferns to you. We're the next big drug in your pipeline. We're the miracle cure that's gonna make you a billionaire. And to get us here, you tricked our parents, you tricked us—you tricked everybody.

Well, you know what, Mr. Phil? The next trick's on you.

Sent: July 7
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Yo

Dear Ryan,

Remember me? The sister you adore? First kid in
our family? Word up, baby brother! (Code for “How are you, Ry?”)

They are treating me great here. Are you having fun at home? Keeping busy? Me, I'm busier than a beaver! Prisoner of happiness, that's me!

This is a great trick I learned. Place a quarter on the table. Is it heads up? Really concentrate now. A picture should form in your mind, and you should say this chant. “Medicine man, witch doctor, evil eye! Company of wizards, make it FLY!”

They say that if you did it right, the quarter should drop right through the table. Are you seeing that, or did I explain it wrong? Editing the instructions might help, if I get time. My writing is not so great. E-mail is not so great for explaining magic tricks, either!

Can you believe I'll be home in a week? You betcha! Pick a day that weekend for going to see a movie or something. Me, I don't care what it is. Up here at camp, we see lots of movies, but it's not the same without you!

Look at the time—I gotta go. Up late again, and I need to rest for tomorrow's fun activities. Calabra Camps are the best—you should come next year, Ryan!

Love,
Abs

B
Y NOW, ABBY HAD FIGURED OUT
why her parents had been responding so weirdly to her e-mails: somebody at Calabra was intercepting every single e-mail message. Reading them over, editing them, changing them, cutting out sentences from the kids' e-mails that might make parents suspicious, and anything from the parents' replies that showed worry.

No wonder no phones are allowed. No wonder every room has this super-fancy laptop in it,
she thought.
It's set up so that they can fix up our e-mails before they go on their way!

Every day, whenever she passed through the lobby, she had seen Candi, sitting there at her reception desk and tapping, tapping, tapping away on her computer. Now Abby
wondered if that was part of Candi's job, to read over the e-mails and cut out anything that might reveal Calabra's secret.

After the lab, Abby hadn't gone to lunch; she told Ferd that she wasn't feeling well. Instead, she'd gone back to her room and woken up the laptop. She had a way to send e-mail that she was pretty sure would get right by Candi the E-mail Spy: she used the first-word code that Ryan had taught her.

She read it back to herself, to make sure that all the first words of the sentences made sense. “Remember The First Word Code? They Are Keeping Me Prisoner! This Place Is Really A Medicine Company. They Are Editing My E-mail! Can You Pick Me Up? Look Up ‘Calabra.' ”

She was pretty sure that Candi wouldn't find anything to cut out of it; unless you knew the code, it sounded pretty innocent. All but the word “Calabra.” But maybe Candi would just think that was a typing mistake. Abby hoped so, anyway.

The next step: figuring out a way to get out of this place. When Abby really thought about it, the whole thing seemed hopeless. You needed a key card to open any of the doors. Even if you had one, you had to get past Candi at the reception desk. Or you could go at night when she was gone, but then the motion detectors and the pressure
sensors in the floors would set off the alarms. And that's if the guys in the black shirts didn't see you trying to escape first.

And even if they got out of the building complex—then what? Where would they go? They were miles from anywhere.

Ben. He'll know what to do.

She decided to go find him in the cafeteria. Lunch wasn't over yet—a good thing. Abby suddenly realized she was starving.

“Why do we have to sit
here,
anyway?” Ricky yelled. “I'm getting splattered!”

“Yeah, seriously,” muttered Eliza as loudly as it's possible to mutter. They sat side by side on the concrete rim of the courtyard fountain. Ben was standing. Abby was pacing.

“Because the fountain is so loud, nobody's gonna hear us,” Abby yelled back. There was a pause, as everyone spontaneously listened to the roar of the water for a moment.

“All right, look. Let's say we believe you,” Eliza finally said. She had pulled her hands inside the tentlike caverns of her T-shirt to keep warm, so she looked like a bizarre orange mannequin with no arms. “Let's say these guys are trying to turn us into their next miracle drug. I don't
like what they're doing, and I don't like how they're doing it. But get
real,
Abby. You really think we can get out of here? This place is locked up like Fort Knox!”

Ricky looked at her. “What's Fort Knox?”

Eliza scoffed at him. “It's just a saying, numbskull. It means it's really hard to get out of here.”

“Listen, you guys! I have it mostly figured out,” Abby announced. “We
can
get out of here if we all work together. But we need one of those security cards. After Ben set the alarms off the other night, they're probably being a lot more careful about locking the doors. That's the only part I haven't figured out. They all wear security cards like name tags on their shirts, or stuck in their wallets or purses. I can't think of any way to get our hands on one. One! That's all we need, and we can get out of this place!”

Ben was looking at her with a crooked smile. His floppy hair looked like it was practically right in his eyeballs; after two weeks of camp, he needed a haircut.

“All you need is a security card?”

She nodded. “That's the hard part.”

“Wanna see a trick?”

“Are you kidding me? You're gonna do a magic trick right now?” she asked.

He held out his hands, empty, so she could see them. Then he turned them down toward the ground so she
could see their backs. Then he put his hands together, like a sandwich.

“Abby Cadabra,” he said. He peeled his hands apart.

There was a security card between them.

Abby clapped her hands despite herself, and Ricky's eyes were wide. “Hey! Where did you get that?”

“From Candi's desk. The key we used to open the desk door also opens the desk
drawer.
Handy, eh? She must keep this card in there as a spare.” He shrugged. “I felt that I needed it more than she does.”

“Ben! You're amazing,” said Abby. She held her hand up for a high five; he slapped her palm.

“So when do we make our big escape?” asked Eliza.

“Are you kidding me? Tonight. I don't want to spend one single second hypnotized in some cat tube,” said Abby.

Ben smiled. “You mean a CAT scan.”

Abby turned to face the fountain. “I mean, we're outta here. Are you guys with me?”

She meant to ask that question the way a cheerleader would—she already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear them jump up with team spirit and yell, “YEAH!!”

But that wasn't the reaction she got.

“It's not going to work,” Eliza said.

“I don't want to go home!” pleaded Ricky.

Abby couldn't believe it. “You don't want—Ricky, are you kidding me? Do you want them to poke you full of
needles and hypnotize you and knock you unconscious and cut open your brain?”

Ricky pouted and looked down at his feet.

“I like the remote-control helicopters,” was all he said.

Abby shot Ben a
help-me-out-here!
look, her hands spread apart.

Ben put his hand on Ricky's shoulder. “Ricky, listen. I don't think they're going to let us do much more of the fun stuff after tomorrow,” he said. He pulled the camper calendar from his back jeans pocket and unfolded it. “You're going to be in the hospital part of this camp. They want to find out how you got your power, and see if they can get it out of you. Like, with you strapped down to a table so you can't move. With needles and stuff. Is that what you want?”

Ricky, deeply upset, began to cry.

“Nice job there, Captain Persuasion,” Eliza said to Ben dryly.

He shot her an irritated look.

“Ricky, Ricky . . . don't be scared,” Ben said soothingly. “None of that's going to happen if you'll help us! Okay? In fact, I'll tell you what. Help us get out of here tonight, and then I will personally take you to go fly some helicopters once we get home, okay? Won't that be fun?”

Ricky nodded unhappily, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

“It's going to be fine. Why don't we let Abby tell us her
plan for getting us out of here? Let's listen to her idea, and then we'll talk about it. Okay?”

He reached around Ricky with both arms as though about to give him a hug, but at the last minute, he chickened out and just patted Ricky's back with both hands.

“All right,” said Abby finally. “Listen carefully now, because for the rest of the day, we're gonna have to pretend that nothing's up. And if one little thing goes wrong . . .”

She looked at Ricky's quivering face and decided she'd better not finish that sentence. She had a lot of explaining to do—and a hard-boiled egg to swipe from the cafeteria.