Arcade Catastrophe
Page 46
Pigeon placed the button back into his pocket. He wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep in his own bed. He didn’t want to remain in this dingy cell, bored and uncomfortable. But he could always snap the button later. First he would see what information he could uncover from within this secret prison.
Chapter Fourteen
The Graywaters
As Nate followed Cleon through an EMPLOYEES ONLY door to get his stamp refreshed, he couldn’t stop worrying
about Pigeon. After bringing the Gate to Jonas the night before, Nate and Lindy had gone to Pigeon’s house and waited for him to show up. But Pigeon had never made an appearance.
Today, none of the Subs had visited the training center. Nate supposed that might be expected if they had been stripped of their powers, but it still added to his unease. During their lunch break, Nate had returned to Pigeon’s house, and Lindy had gone looking for the Battiatos.
After feeding Diego Brain Feed, Nate learned that the dog hadn’t seen Pigeon since the day before. Lindy found that the Battiatos had also heard nothing from Pigeon, and that they were having trouble pinpointing his tracking button. She had set up another meeting with the Battiatos for the evening.
The purpose of spending time at Arcadeland, the point of earning stamps, the idea behind joining the treasure hunt, had all been to find John and Mozag. Nate felt no closer to finding John than when they had started, and now they had lost a member of their rescue team.
When he returned to the training facility, Nate had filled in Summer and Trevor about Pigeon. They had kept the conversations short—it was getting hard to talk to each other at the training center as tensions increased between the rival clubs.
Then Todd and Cleon had shown up with a new assignment. As expected, this new challenge would pit the Racers against the Tanks. They were supposed to meet at the training center at five p.m. in order to go collect a map to an artifact called the Protector. Whichever club brought the map to Arcadeland first would retain their stamps and win the stamps belonging to the losing club.
Walking along a hall cluttered with pipes and wires, Nate felt like too much was happening too quickly. The challenge between the Tanks and Racers meant Summer and Trevor would miss the meeting with the Battiatos tonight. It also meant one or the other of them might go missing as well.
After rounding some corners, Cleon led the way to an elevator. He wore jeans, boots, and a creamy leather jacket with fringed sleeves. Cleon thumbed the button to call the elevator.
“This place has levels?” Risa asked. Jonas had already healed her by the time Nate arrived last night. The only remains of her arrow wound had been faint scars on the front and back of her thigh.
“You know when you hit a ball into the last hole out on the mini course?” Cleon asked.
“Sure,” Risa said. “The one you don’t get back.”
Cleon gave a nod. “Those balls have to end up somewhere.”
The elevator doors opened, and Cleon accompanied the Jets inside. He hit a button. Nate noticed that the elevator only had two levels. They were currently on 1, heading down to B. Either the elevator was very slow, or the basement was well below the ground level.
“You’re about to make a new friend,” Cleon announced as they exited the elevator. “She’ll take care of refreshing your stamps from here on out.”
“Who?” Lindy asked.
“A special guest,” Cleon said. “Jonas brought her here because of her particular talents.” He stopped in front of a door and knocked. “Her name is Tallah Brooks. You can call her Ms. Brooks.”
The door was opened by a heavyset woman with mocha skin. She had a broad, kindly face and wore a lavender scarf bound in her graying hair.
“Seems I have visitors,” Tallah said. “You may as well come inside.”
The woman stepped aside, and Cleon led the Jets into the spacious room. A pair of sofas sat at right angles to each other near a large coffee table. Thick carpeting covered the floors, and wallpaper softened the walls. Shaded lamps gave the room a pleasant glow. Three doors led to other rooms. The contrast between the comfortably furnished apartment and the bare concrete of the hall outside was so extreme that Nate felt like he had walked onto a movie set rather than into an actual home.
“These four need your services,” Cleon said.
“So young,” Tallah said, looking them over and clucking her tongue. “How did you kids get mixed up with these folks?”
“Arcade games,” Nate said.
Tallah rolled her eyes. “I don’t expect to see the day when any good comes from video games.” She gestured at the couches. “Have a seat, children. I’m Ms. Tallah Brooks. Call me Brooksie if you like. Or Tallah.”
“Or Ms. Brooks,” Cleon inserted.
“This is no schoolhouse, Cleon,” Tallah scolded. “Let them call me what they like. Anybody hungry?”
“We’re here for the stamps,” Cleon said.
“Shush,” Tallah said. “I know why you’re here. Jonas White already had a talk with me about that. Doesn’t mean an end to civility. Doesn’t mean kids no longer get hungry. I have chocolate peanut butter brownies.”
“That sounds good,” Nate said.
“Sure,” Chris chimed in.
Tallah smiled. “That’s more like it. Give me a moment.” She turned and bustled out of the room.
“She’s a magician,” Cleon murmured once Tallah had left. “Don’t eat the brownies.”
“She’d hurt us?” Chris asked.
“We have a specific arrangement with her,” Cleon replied quietly. “She can’t do anything harmful against your will. But if you eat something voluntarily . . . let’s just say I won’t be having one.”
Tallah returned to the room bearing a plate of gooey brownies. “These are a specialty,” she said warmly, offering the plate to Nate. He looked from the brownies to Tallah. He didn’t accept one. “Lost your appetite?”
Cleon hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “Can you assure us the brownies will have no side effects?”
Placing the plate on the coffee table, Tallah shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Nobody trusts anybody these days. I suppose we should get down to business. What would you like blended?”
“Blended?” Lindy asked.
“I have a knack for reconciling different enchantments,” Tallah said. “I can help diverse types of magic function simultaneously.”
“She can make a jet stamp and a sub stamp work at the same time,” Cleon said.
Chapter Fourteen
The Graywaters
As Nate followed Cleon through an EMPLOYEES ONLY door to get his stamp refreshed, he couldn’t stop worrying
about Pigeon. After bringing the Gate to Jonas the night before, Nate and Lindy had gone to Pigeon’s house and waited for him to show up. But Pigeon had never made an appearance.
Today, none of the Subs had visited the training center. Nate supposed that might be expected if they had been stripped of their powers, but it still added to his unease. During their lunch break, Nate had returned to Pigeon’s house, and Lindy had gone looking for the Battiatos.
After feeding Diego Brain Feed, Nate learned that the dog hadn’t seen Pigeon since the day before. Lindy found that the Battiatos had also heard nothing from Pigeon, and that they were having trouble pinpointing his tracking button. She had set up another meeting with the Battiatos for the evening.
The purpose of spending time at Arcadeland, the point of earning stamps, the idea behind joining the treasure hunt, had all been to find John and Mozag. Nate felt no closer to finding John than when they had started, and now they had lost a member of their rescue team.
When he returned to the training facility, Nate had filled in Summer and Trevor about Pigeon. They had kept the conversations short—it was getting hard to talk to each other at the training center as tensions increased between the rival clubs.
Then Todd and Cleon had shown up with a new assignment. As expected, this new challenge would pit the Racers against the Tanks. They were supposed to meet at the training center at five p.m. in order to go collect a map to an artifact called the Protector. Whichever club brought the map to Arcadeland first would retain their stamps and win the stamps belonging to the losing club.
Walking along a hall cluttered with pipes and wires, Nate felt like too much was happening too quickly. The challenge between the Tanks and Racers meant Summer and Trevor would miss the meeting with the Battiatos tonight. It also meant one or the other of them might go missing as well.
After rounding some corners, Cleon led the way to an elevator. He wore jeans, boots, and a creamy leather jacket with fringed sleeves. Cleon thumbed the button to call the elevator.
“This place has levels?” Risa asked. Jonas had already healed her by the time Nate arrived last night. The only remains of her arrow wound had been faint scars on the front and back of her thigh.
“You know when you hit a ball into the last hole out on the mini course?” Cleon asked.
“Sure,” Risa said. “The one you don’t get back.”
Cleon gave a nod. “Those balls have to end up somewhere.”
The elevator doors opened, and Cleon accompanied the Jets inside. He hit a button. Nate noticed that the elevator only had two levels. They were currently on 1, heading down to B. Either the elevator was very slow, or the basement was well below the ground level.
“You’re about to make a new friend,” Cleon announced as they exited the elevator. “She’ll take care of refreshing your stamps from here on out.”
“Who?” Lindy asked.
“A special guest,” Cleon said. “Jonas brought her here because of her particular talents.” He stopped in front of a door and knocked. “Her name is Tallah Brooks. You can call her Ms. Brooks.”
The door was opened by a heavyset woman with mocha skin. She had a broad, kindly face and wore a lavender scarf bound in her graying hair.
“Seems I have visitors,” Tallah said. “You may as well come inside.”
The woman stepped aside, and Cleon led the Jets into the spacious room. A pair of sofas sat at right angles to each other near a large coffee table. Thick carpeting covered the floors, and wallpaper softened the walls. Shaded lamps gave the room a pleasant glow. Three doors led to other rooms. The contrast between the comfortably furnished apartment and the bare concrete of the hall outside was so extreme that Nate felt like he had walked onto a movie set rather than into an actual home.
“These four need your services,” Cleon said.
“So young,” Tallah said, looking them over and clucking her tongue. “How did you kids get mixed up with these folks?”
“Arcade games,” Nate said.
Tallah rolled her eyes. “I don’t expect to see the day when any good comes from video games.” She gestured at the couches. “Have a seat, children. I’m Ms. Tallah Brooks. Call me Brooksie if you like. Or Tallah.”
“Or Ms. Brooks,” Cleon inserted.
“This is no schoolhouse, Cleon,” Tallah scolded. “Let them call me what they like. Anybody hungry?”
“We’re here for the stamps,” Cleon said.
“Shush,” Tallah said. “I know why you’re here. Jonas White already had a talk with me about that. Doesn’t mean an end to civility. Doesn’t mean kids no longer get hungry. I have chocolate peanut butter brownies.”
“That sounds good,” Nate said.
“Sure,” Chris chimed in.
Tallah smiled. “That’s more like it. Give me a moment.” She turned and bustled out of the room.
“She’s a magician,” Cleon murmured once Tallah had left. “Don’t eat the brownies.”
“She’d hurt us?” Chris asked.
“We have a specific arrangement with her,” Cleon replied quietly. “She can’t do anything harmful against your will. But if you eat something voluntarily . . . let’s just say I won’t be having one.”
Tallah returned to the room bearing a plate of gooey brownies. “These are a specialty,” she said warmly, offering the plate to Nate. He looked from the brownies to Tallah. He didn’t accept one. “Lost your appetite?”
Cleon hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “Can you assure us the brownies will have no side effects?”
Placing the plate on the coffee table, Tallah shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Nobody trusts anybody these days. I suppose we should get down to business. What would you like blended?”
“Blended?” Lindy asked.
“I have a knack for reconciling different enchantments,” Tallah said. “I can help diverse types of magic function simultaneously.”
“She can make a jet stamp and a sub stamp work at the same time,” Cleon said.
