Nobody Gets The Girl (8 page)

He radioed Dr. Knowbokov once more and
described the bomb.

"These are fairly common works for Rex
Monday," said Dr. Knowbokov. "They’ll be motion sensitive, so they
won't need a timer, just a good jolt, like a pothole or a speed
bump."

The garage had speed bumps everywhere Nobody
looked.

"But the cops can disarm these things,
right?"

"Of course," said Dr. Knowbokov.

By now, Pit Geek was flat on his back beneath
the tenth bus in the row, groaning. "Goddamn," he said. "I need a
better line of work."

"Let's get going," said the Panic.

Pit Geek rolled from under the bus and rose
shakily.

"Hold on," said the Panic.

"What now," said Pit Geek, belching.

"It's OK. Kids are on the way. The first
group's just a block from here."

"Why are the kids on their way?" asked Nobody
into the radio. "You've contacted the police, right?"

"I've taken care of everything," said Dr.
Knowbokov. "The police are very busy right now, but they've
dispatched people to help. Concentrate on following your subjects.
Keep them within arm's length if possible."

"Boss," said the Panic. "I swear, nobody's in
the garage with us. It's like a ghost town in here."

Nobody moved close enough that he could now
see the tiny earpiece and microphone the Panic was using. "Sure.
It's stupid, but sure," said the Panic.

The Panic looked around, bending to check
beneath the buses.

"Hey," he called out. "If you're following
us, boss says I should tell you Dr. Knowbokov never called the
cops. He was worried we would monitor police bands and get tipped
off someone was following us."

"This true?" asked Nobody into the
microphone.

"Don't be absurd, Richard," said Dr.
Knowbokov.

"They know I'm here. Call the cops."

"They've already been called. Right now we're
trying to reach the teachers accompanying the children on their
cell phones. Follow your targets," said Dr. Knowbokov.

The Panic shrugged. "Boss says we're done.
Let's see if we can help Sundancer."

The old man and the kid began to wander back
toward the garage entrance. Nobody followed. Then he heard voices
around the corner, still a good distance away. Children.

"Goddamn you," he said, running to the
nearest bus. He slipped underneath, and dislodged the bomb with a
grunt. He crawled back out and shouted after Pit Geek and the
Panic, "Hey! You dropped something!"

They didn't turn around.

Nobody banged his fist against the cowling of
the bus engine, creating a satisfying thump.

He spiked the bomb like a football in the end
zone as Pit Geek and the Panic turned their eyes toward him.

And then there was fire. It engulfed him,
filled him, flowed from him and through him, but it did not touch
him. He leapt from the nearest ledge of the parking deck, suddenly
feeling the heat as he fell to the ground. Pit Geek seemed tough,
but even he couldn't survive this, Nobody surmised. Debris bounced
all around him.

A red stop sign from one of the buses buried
itself into the ground inches from his head.

He rose and stumbled out to the street. Half
a block away, children were shouting and pointing at the smoke.
"You've lost them," said Dr. Knowbokov.

"Actually," said Nobody, "I have a pretty
good idea where to find them. Parts of them, at least."

"I assure you, their bodies will never be
found. They’ve exited, just as Sundancer and Baby Gun have."

"Exited? Like, exited stage left?
Escaped?"

"You had an opportunity to follow them and
you squandered it."

"I just saved, I dunno, like four hundred
kids or something. Also, I kept a cop from bleeding to death. I
think I did pretty good for my first time out."

"We’ll finish this discussion later," said
Dr. Knowbokov. "Rendezvous with Rail Blade and the Thrill at the
Washington Monument."

Nobody sighed, contemplating the long walk
back to the monument. He looked around. There was an ambulance at
the scene of the crashed police car. He could see the officer
sitting up, staring at his absent hand, but alive.

"Humph," he said. "Pretty damn great."

CHAPTER SIX

I LOVE THIS PLACE

THE FOLLOWING DAY
, Richard sat on the
beach, rubbing the blisters on his feet. He hadn't noticed how
badly his feet hurt during all the excitement. He missed his old
sneakers, the high top ones with the busted seams that he'd owned
for years. Veronica had always nagged him to throw them away. His
continued possession of them was the only fight he'd ever won with
her. Now they were lost forever, vanished like everything else he’d
valued in life. He looked out over the pale blue waves and the
white sand leading to them. This looked like paradise. But his feet
hurt, he was lonely, and he had every reason to believe that this
was going to be a really bad day.

He glanced sideways as a shadow moved across
the sand. The Thrill floated toward him, walking on air. The slight
breeze caused her long blond hair to flow behind her. She wore a
very revealing bathing suit with a pack of cigarettes stuck into
the waistband. Richard noticed she was barefoot, and her toenails
were painted emerald green.

"Hi," he said. "I'm guessing you don't get a
lot of blisters, huh?"

"That's the strangest conversation starter
I've ever heard," she said.

"I mean, on your feet. Seems like you always
fly everywhere."

"Wouldn't you, if you could?"

"Sure," said Richard. "I can't even imagine
it, though. It must be a real thrill. No pun intended."

"Call me Sarah when I'm not on one of Dad's
missions," she said. "Give me your hand."

Richard reached up. She closed her hand
around his. Suddenly, he was weightless, drifting upward to her
side.

"Holy cow!" he said. He twisted in her grasp,
trying to orient himself properly. He wound up with his feet over
his head as he flailed his free hand around uselessly.

"You're trying to use your muscles," said
Sarah. "Go limp. Let your mind move your body."

Richard tried to relax, but couldn't. He felt
nauseous, and the sensation of looking at his feet and seeing sky
beneath them made him instinctively tense up, preparing for a crash
landing. He kicked his feet around, bringing them earthward, but
they kept going, twisting him skyward again. His momentum pried him
from Sarah's grasp. He fell with a grunt to the warm sand.

"I guess I'll stick to walking," he said,
sitting up and rubbing his neck. "Ow."

"In that case, you need better shoes," said
Sarah, glancing at his blistered feet.

"You're telling me," said Richard. "For all
the money your dad has, I swear he bought my shoes from Bulgarian
Army Surplus."

"I'll call Mindo and tell her to get the
helicopter ready," said Sarah.

"For what?"

"Let's pop over to Miami," Sarah said. "Time
to go shopping!"

RICHARD WAS SURPRISED when the helicopter
took them to the Sunshine State Mall off of 1-95. He had figured
that Sarah would be heading someplace a little more upscale.

"I love this place," Sarah said as they
stepped onto the rooftop. "Four hundred and twenty-three stores of
pure middle-class kitsch. Thirty-eight of them are shoe stores, so
we'll definitely find something that works for you."

"Promise we won't go to all thirty-eight,"
said Richard.

"Sure," said Sarah. "Once you've been to
twenty or so, they all just run together anyway."

She held out her hand to him once more.
"Wanna try again? This time, just relax. Let me do the
driving."

"Relax," he said, letting out a deep breath.
"I'll try." He mimed relaxation, arms flopping at his sides, his
knees bent. He swayed gently.

"You call that relaxed?" she asked. "You need
some yoga lessons."

"Nah," said Richard. "I've always had a
solution for when I really needed to relax. Medical scientists call
this solution tequila."

She took his hand. He closed his eyes. Again,
he felt weightless, but he didn't fight it. He peeked. They were
floating over the edge of the mall, down to the parking lot. People
were pointing at them. He began to feel disoriented, but he tried
to shove the feeling from his mind. They landed safely seconds
later, before he'd had time to really freak out.

"Was that so bad?" she asked.

"Landing was the best part," he said.

By now, a dozen people had run up to
them.

"Oh my God!" a teenage girl yelled. "You're
the Thrill!"

An older man said, "Miss, my brother was in
Washington yesterday. You saved his life! Can I have your
autograph?"

"Step back," the Thrill said.

Everyone near her smiled and took one step
back.

Sarah paused for a second to take out a
cigarette and light it. The crowd stared silently, anticipating her
next words. She blew out a stream of smoke, then said, "For the
rest of the day you'll leave me alone. You won't tell anyone you
saw me."

The small crowd murmured in cheerful
assent.

"Flying and mind control," said Richard.
"What kind of radioactive insect has to bite you to get that
combination of powers?"

"It's not mind control," Sarah said, her eyes
narrowing. "People just like to do what I ask them to do."

Richard thought it wise not to respond to
that. They went into the mall. It was about 11 A.M. on a Sunday,
and the stores were just opening.

"I love getting here first thing in the
morning," said Sarah. "With all the chain gates clattering up and
all the different music coming on, it sounds like the warm-up of a
symphony."

"That's an interesting way of looking at it,"
said Richard.

"My sister never does stuff like this," Sarah
said. "She has a team of personal shoppers and wardrobe experts who
buy her clothes for her. I like to get down into the nitty-gritty.
It helps keep me grounded."

Richard looked down. Sarah was almost
touching the ground, but not quite.

"Your sister does seem a little...
restrained," said Richard.

"My sister is fucking crazy, as is my father,
and my mother. I might be, too. The life I've lived, it warps any
sense of perspective, y'know?"

"I'm not the best person to ask," said
Richard. "I went crazy about ten days ago and still haven't come to
grips with it."

"I don't know," said Sarah. "You seem OK to
me. Kind of admirable, actually, given the crap Dad's put you
through. Oh, hey, let's get cinnamon buns."

"Sure," said Richard. The cinnamon buns on
display at the nearby shop did smell wonderful.

"Two of the big buns," said Sarah to the
cashier. "And two large lemonades."

"That will be $8.70," said the cashier, a
skinny teenage guy who seemed very nervous.

"No," said Sarah. "You'll just give them to
me."

"With pleasure!" the kid said, smiling
broadly.

"So," said Richard. "You use your amazing
gifts to take food from children."

"With pleasure," said Sarah. "Besides, it's
not like I'm stealing from this geek. I'm stealing from a
corporation somewhere. Probably one my father owns, with any
luck."

The kid gave her a tray with the buns and
drinks.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Study hard and do well in school," Sarah
offered. She handed a bun to Richard. Tentatively, Richard tried to
grasp it. To his relief, he could.

"I have a theory about how your powers work,"
said Sarah. "I think you'll do really well here in the mall,
because here most people are invisible anyway. Even if people were
looking right at me holding out a cinnamon bun to an invisible man,
no one would notice because no one really looks at anyone else in
the mall."

"Maybe," said Richard. "But you seem to be
turning a few heads. I doubt a woman as beautiful as you ever
really blends into the crowd."

"I don't know," said Sarah. "I try to fit in.
I sometimes feel like I'm fitting in. But I guess I'll never know
how the rest of the world sees me. That's Dad's superpower by the
way."

"Your dad knows how the rest of the world
sees you? That's a superpower?"

"He was bitten by a radioactive pollster,"
said Sarah. "No, really, Dad's like this super-telepath, right? He
sees what's going on in everyone's head."

"Everyone? In the whole world? All at
once?"

"Well, not everyone, I guess. His power
doesn't work on Amelia or me. I don't think it works on you."

"Why wouldn't it work on me?"

"Well, you didn't step back earlier. My
powers don't have any effect on you, so you're probably immune to
Dad. Neither of our powers works on Amelia, either."

"Are you immune to Amelia's power?"

"Not the sharp steel blades part. But she
can't pick me up by my blood."

"She what?"

"She does this thing where she picks people
up by grabbing the iron in their blood."

"This is just too strange," said Richard.
"You're pulling my leg."

"Nope. Hey, did I tell you Amelia and I have
a code name for Dad? Dr. Know. Catchy, huh?"

"Copyrighted, probably." Richard realized
that this new information about his employer explained a lot of
apparent non sequiturs in their conversations. And it meant
something else. "So, your dad knows about your stealing cinnamon
buns?"

"I assume so. He hasn't mentioned it before.
But, also, I think his power gets more focused the fewer people he
concentrates on. He can get vague impressions from millions of
people at once, or concentrate on a hundred and know their every
last secret. But that's not the worst thing Dad can do with his
power."

"Do tell."

"He can take over people's brains entirely.
Use them like memory chips in a computer, to take over some of his
thinking for him."