Molly Moon Stops the World (26 page)

BOOK: Molly Moon Stops the World
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Thirty-nine

S
lowly, the head started to rise, and like a killing water beast, Lucy Logan rose, dripping, from the water, a silver pistol clenched between her teeth. She no longer wore the bandages and the plaster cast that had covered her in Briersville. Petula began to bark and bark.

Lucy fixed Sinclair, Molly, and Rocky with a cold, petrifying glare. She looked very unlike the Briersville librarian whom Molly had known. She was still dressed in a tweed skirt and sensible cardigan—these were now sopping wet—and her blond hair was styled, as it had always been, into a bun on top of her head, but she looked disturbingly different. Her eyes had lost all their kindness, and her nose looked more hooked.

“Don’t look at her eyes,” gasped Sinclair. No one
needed to be reminded. Molly had already fixed her eyes on the gun, now in Lucy Logan’s hand.

“And don’t listen to her.”

“But she’s got a gun,” Molly said, as if no one else had noticed it.

“And it’s loaded,” said Lucy, as calmly as if she was about to start a guided tour of the house. She pointed the pistol at Petula. “Stop that dog barking or I’ll shoot it.” Molly snatched up Petula and silenced her, instinctively stepping away from Lucy. Sinclair and Rocky moved with her.

“Where is he?” Logan asked, raising her weapon. “You might as well let me have him, or I’ll kill you and find him anyway.”

“You’ll kill us whatever happens,” said Sinclair.

Molly gulped. The idea of a bullet, a hard steel bullet puncturing her body at lightning speed, was terrifying. But mixed with this fear was a thought that tantalized her. The madwoman standing in front of her was her mother.

Logan raised the gun.

“If you shoot, then you’ll
never
find out where Cell is,” Molly lied. “We’ve deprogrammed him and he’s somewhere so safe that even
you
won’t be able to find him.”

Lucy Logan lowered the revolver. She glanced
toward the kitchen and the other door that led off the room. Sinclair’s bedroom. She walked toward it, keeping her gun aimed at everyone. She tried the door handle, which held fast. Loudly, but as nicely as if she was about to tell him his lunch was ready, she called, “Primo?”

“What is it?” came Primo’s groggy reply. Logan smiled slyly.

“No doubt one of you has the key,” she said politely. Molly stared at her. It was amazing how now, because she hated her, Lucy seemed far uglier than she had remembered her.

“He’s deprogrammed,” said Molly. “You won’t ever have power over him again.”

“You underestimate my influence,” said Lucy coolly. “Just as I underestimated your luck.”

“You thought the magpie killed me and Rocky ages ago, didn’t you?” said Molly.

“Yes. I should have taken the precaution of leaving some hypnotic instruction in you, just in case you did survive.”

“You
never
could have hypnotized me that day at your cottage. I was too alert,” said Molly defiantly.

“Oh, I could have, if I’d tried,” said Lucy. “I should have. It would have been a lot less tiresome now if you were still under my thumb. But the chances of a
specimen like you surviving Cell were so slim.” Petula growled.

“Slim in your eyes, but your microscope’s obviously broken,” said Molly. Logan ignored her and pointed her gun at Sinclair.

“And I suppose you had something to do with their escape. I remember seeing pictures of you, Sinclair, when you were a ragged little circus boy. Primo and I were wrong about you. I thought you had potential. I thought you were trustworthy. And you,” she said, looking at Rocky. “Perhaps you were more talented than I realized.” Lucy’s hard blue eyes scanned them all contemptuously.

“You do realize that I have to dispose of you all, one way or another. So which is it to be? My eyes or the bullet? It’s your decision.”

No one spoke. Patience certainly wasn’t one of her virtues, for fed up with no answer, Logan said abruptly, “Actually, I’m sick of the lot of you. I’m going to shoot you all. Good-bye.” She pointed her gun at Rocky.

Molly saw Lucy’s finger moving to squeeze the revolver’s trigger. In the same instant she realized that this was no game. Lucy Logan was about to shoot Rocky. With a speed that Molly didn’t know she had, she drew the cold fusion feeling from the air itself and
instantaneously stopped the world. In that slice of time, the first nanosecond of a loud bang hit her ears.

Everything stood still. Except for Logan, Molly, Petula, and Sinclair. A bullet three inches from Rocky’s throat hung like a frozen missile in the air. Logan smiled and pointed her gun at Molly.

“Good timing,” she said. “Try to stop this one.”

Molly was confused. She was already holding the world still. Could she stop it again? She watched Lucy’s wrist, trying to sense when she would squeeze the trigger again. Sinclair dived behind a chair.

Molly saw the tendon on Lucy’s thick wrist rise slightly, and she chose her moment. Again, time stopped. Molly had judged it perfectly. This time, a bullet hung in the air midway between her and Lucy. This bullet was on its way to Molly’s chest.

“Hhhmmm,” commented Lucy. “That one would have hit you in the heart.”

Molly couldn’t give in to her numbing fear. She had to remain lucid, or she would be dead. She hadn’t known until now that time could be stopped on top of already frozen time. She looked at Sinclair to see his reaction, but now he was a statue too, like Rocky. Molly quickly put Petula down behind the sofa, where she also went rigid.

Molly wondered how many times she would be able to
stop the world. But there wasn’t long to wonder, because Lucy was about to kill her. She fired her third bullet. Again Molly froze time. For a moment Logan and Molly were both distracted as they resisted the freeze.

Logan took a moment to adjust to the new time; then she snarled, “You’re waning, Moon.” She fired again.

A fourth bullet. A fifth bullet. Terror swept through Molly as Logan pointed the gun at her head, at her heart, at her stomach. Molly trembled as she stopped the world for the eighth time. She was almost too late. A bullet hung suspended in the air, an inch from her forehead. Molly threw herself behind the sofa.

“You’ve only got a few more bullets,” she shouted through the icy fog that was beginning to rise from the water and fill the room.

“You’ve been watching too many films. I’ve just reloaded,” said Logan. Molly glanced around the side of her hiding place. Logan saw her and another shot rang out, the sound cut off instantly as Molly froze everything once more. Molly shivered. Logan shivered. The room was starting to feel very, very cold.

“You’re a coward,” said Molly, panting. “This would be fair only if I had a gun too.”

“I’m not a coward,” said Logan. “I just like to have an unfair advantage, that’s all. After all, I have to win, Molly.”

Logan frowned. She really didn’t want to play cat and mouse with this girl. She wanted this business over. All this time stopping was very tiring. She had never suspected that Molly might be this good. To stop the world over and over required extreme focus of mind. Logan had never thought a child would be able to do it. But she also knew that, like folding a piece of paper over and over again, eventually folding time would become impossible. Logan knew that, in the end, Molly would have no way to dodge her bullets. So, although Logan’s strength was being tested to the fullest, she also knew that she would win. She raised her gun.

Molly’s teeth were chattering. Each time she forced the cold fusion feeling outward, it was as if the world sucked heat out of her body. Now the icy mist was shrouding everything in the room. Lucy Logan’s body was just visible, but Molly could barely detect the movement of her finger against the trigger of the gun. She was
sensing
as much as seeing when Logan was about to fire.

Lucy Logan’s vision was becoming blurred too. Her hearing was fuzzy. It was as if she was in a cold airplane at a very high altitude. She fired at Molly but, on stumbling toward her, found that the shape she’d shot at was a coat on a chair and not Molly at all. She saw an indistinct figure move to her left.

The world froze again—froze this time before Logan
had fired. As Logan resisted it, her legs went numb with cold. She grabbed at something to steady herself. They must be nearing the impossible fold now. If she was weakening, the child must surely be about to collapse. Lucy had the advantage. She had trained her mind for years. She would win this contest—she knew she would. She felt for her crystal under her wet cardigan—colder than ice. With great effort she spoke.

“So, Molly, orphan Molly, how would you feel if I told you that I know who your mother and father are?”

From behind a chair near the window, Molly replied, “I’d say the news was out of date. You’re too late, Logan. I know … I know that you are my mother and I know that Cell is my father, and don’t worry, I’ve already disowned you.”

Molly was fighting for her life. Her backbone felt cold as an icicle. As if it might snap. The chill of the crystal against her neck bored into her skin, as if it was freezing her very soul. Molly thought how much she hated Lucy Logan. She couldn’t believe a person could be so crazy, so bad. But what made it all a thousand times worse was that the foul human being brandishing the pistol was Molly’s flesh and blood. All Molly’s life she’d wanted to know who her mother was. She’d dreamed of a kind, intelligent, funny person. The reality was this megalomaniac killer. Molly hated her
for ruining her dreams. She would not let Logan end her life, too. But she was so cold … so very cold … and so tired.

Molly shut her eyes. Behind the lids, she saw herself in the room with Lucy. Then, as was so natural to her, she imagined herself shooting away from her body like a rocket into space. In a millisecond she was there.

This time, space was different. Molly saw the whole world, still, below her. She saw the planets around her stopped in their orbits, the stars in the solar systems halted for a moment in time.

Molly sensed space around her stretching forever, for an eternity. In this frozen vastness, she felt herself tinier than tiny, like a speck of dust, smaller than that. She felt herself so small that she was practically nothing. She had found inside herself the nanu of small.

And yet …

Molly’s feelings of smallness switched. Suddenly Molly was impressed by how big she was. Because of her, the universe was held up. Because of her, all the elements—earth, air, fire, and water—were stilled. Molly felt small, then very, very big, and again, nanu small and gigantically big. Molly felt completely at one with the universe, and an enormous feeling of love for everything in it filled her.

She sensed, far, far below her, Lucy Logan’s movement
on the world. Then the world seemed to make an offering to Molly—an idea—the idea of the North Pole. Ice, she realized, didn’t feel cold. If she zoned into the essence of ice, perhaps then she too wouldn’t feel cold anymore. She let her mind relax, she let her body relax into the ice. And suddenly Molly didn’t feel cold at all. The crystal round her neck felt warm. Molly knew that she could stop time again.

With her eyes shut, and as easily as if she was blowing out a candle, Molly stopped time for the eighteenth time. Now, with every breath she took, she drew time to a standstill. For the nineteenth time, breathe out, breathe in. For the twentieth time, breathe out, breathe in … for the twenty-first time.

Molly felt no more resistance. Molly was the only moving thing in the universe. Life everywhere was still. Molly felt as alone as if she was dead, except she wasn’t dead, she was alive. For a second she wondered whether she
was
alone. Was she the only conscious creature in the realms of space and time? Molly felt that although everywhere was still, the essence of life, the force inside and outside her, was watching her. And the mysterious force seemed to be thanking her.

Molly opened her eyes. Now, instead of being misty and cold, the room was full of color. It was clear and still. And Lucy Logan was frozen with a
look of hatred on her face.

Molly walked around the room and carefully picked each frozen bullet from its hovering position. She threw them all out of the window. Then she took the gun out of Lucy Logan’s hand and checked her clothes for any more weapons. And she took the crystal from Lucy’s neck.

Satisfied that her enemy was no longer armed, Molly brought her eyes up to their hypnotic peak. She positioned herself so that Logan’s eyes were looking straight into hers. Then, touching her shoulder, she let movement flow into her again.

If Lucy Logan had any energy left to combat Molly’s, it was sapped in a second. Before she even became conscious of being alert, before she realized that she had frozen and started moving again, Molly’s eyes had overpowered hers.

Lucy Logan was hypnotized.

Forty


Y
ou are now completely under my power,” said Molly. “Is that understood?”

Lucy Logan nodded, and Molly looked at her face, trying to see whether there was any likeness between herself and this horrible creature. Logan’s jaw was much heavier and her face was much bonier than Molly had remembered. Her body was wiry. Molly hoped this wasn’t how she would turn out when she grew up.

“From now on,” she declared, “you will accept that all the plans that you had before this meeting will never be carried out. You now have everything you need. You will not remember how to hypnotize anyone or anything. You will not remember how to stop the world. When you come out of this trance, you will behave as
nicely as …” Molly tried to think of something that was always sweet-tempered. “… as a lamb.” Molly paused. The next step would be essential for someone as dangerous as Lucy Logan. “And these instructions will be locked inside you forever by some words that you won’t remember. These words will be …” Molly glanced at the coffee table. “Moon’s Marshmallows.” Then she added, “And when I clap my hands, you will wake up.”

Molly let go of Lucy’s shoulder, and immediately the librarian froze again. At last, she stood still with her arms by her side and she relaxed. She let the cold fusion feeling flow out of her fingertips, out of her body. The layers of freeze that she had forced onto time melted, until the time stop that had captured Rocky and Sinclair and Petula released them and the whole world, too. Molly collapsed on the sofa.

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