Spring-Heeled Jack (14 page)

Atticus pointed to it and asked,
“Detective, where’d you get that?”

McCloud looked at the corner of his
desk and saw the locket. He picked it up, dangling it by the chain,
and said, “This here? I found it on the Nelson boy. This has been
my only evidence to solidify my theory that Mekanile is
involved.”

“
W-Why?” Atticus reached
into his pocket and felt his own locket.

“
You see, lad,” McCloud
said, “this symbol here, the entwined gears, is the symbol of
Mekanile. The bandits use it as an identifier so they know who to
trust.”

Atticus felt his heart stop. It wasn’t
possible. His mind instantly drifted back to when he got his
locket: his parents had given it to him. His father had told him it
was extremely important.

“
D-Detective, are you sure
that’s what the symbol means?”

“
Most definitely,” he said.
“Where ever Mekanile causes trouble, these gears always follow.
What confuses me, however, is that this locket is a rare one. Only
three exist, and Mekanile wouldn’t just vive one of them to some
mere acquaintance. Only a higher up would own such a
thing.”

The locket in Atticus’ pocket seemed
to be heating up. If what McCloud was saying was true, then would
that make Atticus’ parents higher ups? That couldn’t have been
true.

Atticus thought about his mother,
Isabel; a plasma engineer who’d worked for Zebulon for years. She
was sweet and docile. And then there was his father, William; a
clumsy clockwork artificer who just wanted to make goofy little
toys. They weren’t criminals, they couldn’t have been. Atticus
couldn’t imagine them that way.

But, was that why they vanished all
those years ago, Atticus thought? Were they just putting up a fake
demeanor to hide themselves? Despite everything McCloud had said,
and everything Atticus was thinking, none of it sounded
right.

“
Detective,” Atticus said,
“you’ve worked at Zebulon for a while, correct?”

McCloud nodded. “Aye son, I’ve been
working for them nearly fifteen years.”

“
Did you ever know my
parents, William and Isabel?”

McCloud went silent and looked down at
the papers on his desk. “Yes, I knew your parents,” he said. “They
worked at Zebulon well before I got there. Brilliant minds they
were. Your mother was a leading member of the plasma committee, if
I remember correctly. She was a truly gifted scientist.”

“
And my father?”

A wide smile spread across McCloud’s
face. He began to chuckle and then looked up at Atticus, his eyes
almost red as if he was going to start crying.

“
Your dad and I didn’t quite
see eye-to-eye,” he said. “But, he was a brilliant toy maker,
that’s for sure.”

Atticus was happy to hear such good
things about his parents. He never heard much about them and their
time at Zebulon. His grandparents never wanted to talk, and no one
seemed to know anything special. But, hearing McCloud made his
heart feel warm.

Just then, a light above the office
door lit up and a buzz rang through the room.

“
A message for me?” McCloud
stood up from his seat. “Come in!”

The receptionist from earlier slid the
door open and hesitantly walked into the office. “I’m sorry to
bother you detective, but Sergeant Beauregard would like a word
with you about the robbery down on Oakey Boulevard.”

The detective’s face calmed down back
to its regular serious demeanor. “Sorry lad, but we’ll have to end
our meeting for the day. Duty calls.”

“
B-But,
detective-”

“
Now don’t worry, we’ll have
plenty of time to talk more another day.” The detective’s smile was
so genuine it was hard for Atticus to get upset. But, maybe it was
for the best. All this about Mekanile and the lockets was causing
him to doubt everything he’d known and was working for.

McCloud escorted Atticus outside and
shook his hand. “It was a pleasure to talk with you, Mr. Whaelord.
You’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”

Atticus blushed and said, “Please, you
did all the thinking.”

“
Nonsense! You found all the
evidence. You helped put all the pieces together. We shared our
knowledge and got one step closer. Neither of us could’ve done it
without the other, lad.”

McCloud smiled and said a quick
farewell, but Atticus wasn’t ready to be done just yet.

“
Detective, could I ask a
request?”

The detective looked out to a squad of
officers waiting for him. “Alright, but make it snappy. I’ve got to
get down to Oakey Boulevard quickly.”

Atticus nodded. “I was just curious
if, perhaps, you could give me a tour of the Zebulon Headquarters
sometime. I’d like to see how things work there.”

It seemed rather sporadic, but Atticus
felt that he could learn something from the Zebulon Corporation. If
this Mekanile was out to sabotage them, then maybe he had to learn
why.

The request definitely took McCloud by
surprise, but he shrugged and said, “I don’t see why not. Tomorrow
is Saturday, correct? Why don’t you head there around noon and ask
for me? I’d be delighted to give you a little tour.”

Atticus nodded and smiled back.
“Alright, that sounds like a plan.”

He said goodbye, and as he watched the
detective and the officers drive off, he had an awful feeling in
his gut. His parents left him a locket that was apparently linked
to some band of criminals working against Zebulon. But, his parents
worked for Zebulon. Were they secretly planning on taking the
corporation down from the inside? Or was it all just
coincidence?

Or, perhaps there was something the
detective didn’t know. Atticus tried to feel ecstatic about this
realization. As much as he liked the detective’s theory, there was
something about it that didn’t seem right. He had loads of new
puzzle pieces to help solve the mystery.

All he had to do was to assemble the
last few bits and everything would fall into place.

Another day, another night Atticus
spent thinking about the case. He’d returned back to his dorm, but
not before stopping back by the Magister Theater to see if he could
catch the rest of the movie and apologize to Camila. She’d long
left the theater, and he’d felt terrible for it. He thought maybe
she’d understand, but what could he possibly say to her? He never
knew what to say. He was always so afraid of saying something that
would make the situation even worse.

But, Camila seemed like a pretty
down-to-Earth girl. As long as Atticus told her the truth, she’d
understand. But, could he tell her the truth? Would she believe
him? If she did, would her opinions on him change? Would she feel
in danger? Atticus couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in deep
water no matter what he did.

Atticus picket up the
10/1/3/11
document and
rested on his bed. He tried to read through it again. He tried to
use his new found information to see if he could debunk it any
easier, but it seemed like nothing. I & E was code for “Invade
& Execute” according to McCloud, but that didn’t quite seem
right. Why so many names and locations? If it really was about
invading Fortuna Prep and killing Mike, why would it need to be so
long?

Perhaps, Atticus thought,
that was what the
10/1/3/11
meant. It was clearly a code, but for what? A
birthday? Maybe an old address? Regardless, Atticus hadn’t the
slightest clue.

As he stared at the folder, the door
flung open and Brock waltzed in.

“
Hey, how was the date,” he
asked.

Atticus sat up and shrugged. “It was
okay.”

“
Just okay? What
happened?”

“
Not much.” Atticus felt his
stomach sink. “It got kind of interrupted.”

“
Well, do you think there’ll
be another date,” Brock asked. He tried to sound optimistic, but
Atticus shook his head.

“
If she’s as smart as I know
she is, probably not.”

Brock was his best friend, and Atticus
wanted to tell him the truth, but how could he word it so he didn’t
sound like a complete jerk. He couldn’t just say he up and ditched
Camila because he was afraid. What kind of guy does that? Besides,
he knew how badly he messed up.

A change of subject was needed.
Atticus hadn’t told Brock about the folder at all since he found
it, and he figured that then would be as good a time as any. Plus,
he needed a second opinion.

He closed the folder and tossed it to
Brock. “I found that earlier today in Varnum’s office.”

“
But, Varnum wasn’t in
today?”

“
I know,” Atticus said. “I
did a bit of snooping.”

A mischievous grin spread across
Brock’s face. “I see I’m starting to wear off on you,
eh?”

“
A little bit.”

Brock opened the folder and began to
skim through it. “So what is this? Answer keys to the next
exam?”

Atticus shook his head. “I’m not
completely sure. I did some research on it, and apparently it’s
called an Invade and Execute order or something.”

“
So what do you think it
means,” Brock asked.

Atticus leapt off his bed and pulled
out his locket. He held in his hand, the symbol of the entwined
gears facing outward

“
In my research, I
discovered something a little scary. My locket is connected to a
criminal group called Mekanile.”

Brock shot him a scared look. He
closed the folder and set it behind him on the desk. “What do you
mean a criminal group?”

Atticus took a deep breath. He tried
his best to explain as much as he knew without revealing that he’d
gone to see Detective McCloud.

“
So,” Brock said gloomily,
“you think your parents may have been working with this
Mekanile?”

“
I don’t know.”

Brock looked up at Atticus. His face
showed his worry. “Hey, I don’t know if it’s smart to get involved
with all of this.”

“
But, I’ve come too far. If
I give up now-”

He could see the fear in Brock’s eyes.
If he really was getting involved with criminal affairs, then there
was no telling what would happen. Perhaps that’s what Principal
Shepard had meant when she told him to stay out of it.

“
Atticus, are you
okay?”

He wasn’t sure what to say. “I-I’ll be
fine.”

Atticus couldn’t lie to Brock. He
wasn’t a naturally gifted liar anyway, but having to do it to his
best friend who could read him better than anyone around made it
nearly impossible.

“
I know this is a big deal,”
Brock said, “but why don’t we just catch some sleep. Maybe that’ll
help clear your head?”

Atticus decided not to argue. Brock
was probably right. Sleep tended to be the best thing to do when
one was stressed out, but after the last night, Atticus wasn’t so
sure. But, there was nothing else he could do. No matter how much
he didn’t want to do it, Atticus knew sleep was the best
choice.

He hadn’t realized how tired he was
until his head hit the pillow. Quickly, his vision faded. He’d
heard brock say something that sounded vaguely like “Good night,”
but it was all gibberish. Atticus had already drifted away to
dreamland.

*****

Atticus’ dream that night wasn’t a
nightmare like the night before. But, it was something that made
him feel just as awful. He dreamt of his tenth birthday; the last
day he ever saw his parents.

In his dreams, he was just waking up
to the sounds of crashing fireworks outside his window. He was in
his little ten-year-old body, wearing his old pajamas. He rolled
out of bed and felt the soft carpet against his feet and decided to
make his way to the kitchen.

The house wasn’t exactly his old home,
but instead his grandparent’s home in Boulder City that he lived in
after his parents left. Two bedrooms, a small kitchenette, a dining
room, a bathroom, and the world’s smallest living room. He wasn’t
sure why he was back in his grandparent’s home, but it was a dream
so it didn’t need to make sense.

But, one thing from his old home
remained. In the dining room there was a doorway that lead down
into his parent’s basement workshop. It was always his parents’
dream to open up a local toy shop, and the basement was where it
all started. Both his mother and father would spend countless hours
tinkering and experimenting with new toy ideas. Atticus was never
allowed down there by himself; there were too many dangerous and
breakable things. But, he never wanted to explore it anyways. It
was too dark and scary for him. Even at a young age, Atticus was a
scaredy cat.

He walked into the kitchen and saw his
mother, Isabel, doing some last minute preparations for his
birthday. The sight of her was so real. She was exactly how he
remembered her: olive skin, jet black pixie cut hair, and bright
red lips. She was so much different from other moms. She was always
working, but that never stopped her from making family
time.