Arcade Catastrophe
Page 65
“You’re welcome to go get it,” Summer said. “I can just come back.”
“You’re doing great,” Roman said.
“Did it hurt?” Derek called.
“It was like getting punched and tackled a lot,” Summer said. “I felt it, but I didn’t get cut or break any bones. I’m not even very sore anymore.”
“You were really getting thrown around,” Roman said.
“I could tell,” Summer replied. “I’m almost ready to try again.”
She took deep breaths, trying to gauge how rested she felt. It seemed like she was mostly recovered. She was almost two-thirds of the way down the corridor. She figured she had enough energy to at least make it to the end.
Summer shifted into race mode. Everything slowed. She shifted up to her fastest state, and everything slowed again.
She rolled forward, then rose to her knees. After leaning back to avoid a spear, she regained her feet and dashed forward. Once again she skipped, hopped, ducked, and dodged her way onward, feeling slightly calmer with the knowledge that even if she got hit, she should survive the beating.
Up ahead, a brutal series of pillars pummeled the ground. Even at her top speed, they moved pretty fast. Each struck with tremendous force. Summer did not want to test her Tank stamp against a direct hit. The relentless pillars looked strong enough to squash anything into a pancake.
As Summer twisted, shuffled, and jumped, the mashing pillars drew closer. Four pillars wide and twenty pillars deep, the crushing section of the corridor never held still. It was hard to identify a pattern in the constant motion.
A blow that clipped her shoulder made Summer stagger when she reached the pillars. A heavy column of stone slammed down beside her. As it lifted up, she stepped underneath it, barely avoiding a pillar that boomed down onto her previous position.
Keeping her eyes up, Summer zigzagged forward, columns thundering down to the left and right, ahead and behind. Toward the end she dove, rolling out onto the stone floor beyond the reach of the pitiless columns.
No obstacles remained ahead of her. At the end of the corridor, a small statue awaited in an alcove. The floor vibrated each time a column crashed down behind her. She had survived. She returned to regular race mode.
Summer thought she could hear Roman or Derek yelling at her, but with the pounding pillars so close, she couldn’t make out any words. Standing, she took a moment to examine the punctures and tears in her ragged clothing. Then she walked to the end of the hall.
In the alcove stood a statue of a shirtless warrior, less than a foot tall. Squat and broad, he had thick limbs, large feet, and a cartoonishly oversized head. His eyes lacked irises or pupils; his nose was broad, his ears small. He was slightly crouched, his legs together, and he held a club in each fist.
Summer looked around. The corridor ended here. “You must be the Protector,” she said.
The statue offered no response. Behind her, the pillars continued to batter the floor.
She found the statue quite light. Of course, with the tank stamp, she was considerably stronger than usual, making it tricky to guess how much the statue might normally weigh.
Turning, she faced the booming columns. The thought of running back through the frantic gauntlet was disheartening. She would need to rest again before attempting the return trip.
As she watched the columns piston up and down, Summer realized how difficult it was to see Roman and Derek at the far end of the hall beyond all of those moving obstacles. Which meant they couldn’t see her.
Summer looked down at the Protector. If she broke it, wouldn’t that mess up Jonas White’s plans? He needed it to access Uweya. She could pretend it had happened by accident.
With her stamp-enhanced strength, Summer flung the Protector to the floor. Nothing broke off. Upon closer examination, she failed to find a chip or a crack. She threw it down again. She bashed it against the wall. She threw it head first, then feet first. She hurled it end over end across the width of the corridor. None of the punishment even scratched it.
Summer supposed she should have known it wouldn’t be so simple. If the Protector were easily destructible, somebody probably would have broken it long ago.
Then she considered the pillars. If anything could destroy the little statue, it would be them.
She carried the statue to the nearest row of pounding columns. As she neared, the columns stopped ramming the ground. She continued forward, and the next row of pillars stopped functioning as well.
It was good news and bad news. She couldn’t use the obstacles in the corridor to destroy the statue, but apparently the Protector was her free ticket out. The trend continued as she progressed along the hallway. When she passed beyond the pillars, the spears stopped stabbing, the blades quit whirring, and the pendulums halted. In no time she made it back to Derek and Roman.
“Nice work, Summer,” Derek said, giving her a high five.
“Looks like you rescued your clothes from a pack of wild dogs,” Roman joked.
“I’m starting a new trend,” Summer declared. “Wet and mangled.”
“Can I see the Protector?” Roman asked, holding out his hand.
Summer could think of no good reason to deny him, so she handed it over.
“It’s light,” he said, hefting it. “Small. We need to be ready for the Jets to try to swipe it. You’ve got to be tired, so I’ll keep hold of it for now.”
Once again, Summer could think of no plausible reason to disagree. She nodded woodenly.
Derek and Roman trotted ahead of her. She had to help Nate. When would he strike? In the water, if he had any sense. But he needed to be careful. She knew how ruthless Roman and the other Tanks could be. If they got hold of anybody, they would force Nate to back off with threats of violence.
Roman stepped warily out into the night. As he passed through the entrance, the stone building began to shudder. Summer raced out the doorway as the hallway behind her
began to collapse. As she watched in surprise, the stone building folded in on itself, promptly shrinking down to nothing. The miniature replica of the building did likewise. The hillside where the building had stood looked churned up, as if an excavation had caved in. Otherwise there was no indication the building had ever existed.
Roman studied the sky. “We have to be ready for an attack at any moment. When they come for us, grab them. If we show them we’re in charge, they’ll back off.”
“Should we go straight across to the mainland?” Derek asked. “Or should we loop around wide, maybe avoid them.”
“You’re doing great,” Roman said.
“Did it hurt?” Derek called.
“It was like getting punched and tackled a lot,” Summer said. “I felt it, but I didn’t get cut or break any bones. I’m not even very sore anymore.”
“You were really getting thrown around,” Roman said.
“I could tell,” Summer replied. “I’m almost ready to try again.”
She took deep breaths, trying to gauge how rested she felt. It seemed like she was mostly recovered. She was almost two-thirds of the way down the corridor. She figured she had enough energy to at least make it to the end.
Summer shifted into race mode. Everything slowed. She shifted up to her fastest state, and everything slowed again.
She rolled forward, then rose to her knees. After leaning back to avoid a spear, she regained her feet and dashed forward. Once again she skipped, hopped, ducked, and dodged her way onward, feeling slightly calmer with the knowledge that even if she got hit, she should survive the beating.
Up ahead, a brutal series of pillars pummeled the ground. Even at her top speed, they moved pretty fast. Each struck with tremendous force. Summer did not want to test her Tank stamp against a direct hit. The relentless pillars looked strong enough to squash anything into a pancake.
As Summer twisted, shuffled, and jumped, the mashing pillars drew closer. Four pillars wide and twenty pillars deep, the crushing section of the corridor never held still. It was hard to identify a pattern in the constant motion.
A blow that clipped her shoulder made Summer stagger when she reached the pillars. A heavy column of stone slammed down beside her. As it lifted up, she stepped underneath it, barely avoiding a pillar that boomed down onto her previous position.
Keeping her eyes up, Summer zigzagged forward, columns thundering down to the left and right, ahead and behind. Toward the end she dove, rolling out onto the stone floor beyond the reach of the pitiless columns.
No obstacles remained ahead of her. At the end of the corridor, a small statue awaited in an alcove. The floor vibrated each time a column crashed down behind her. She had survived. She returned to regular race mode.
Summer thought she could hear Roman or Derek yelling at her, but with the pounding pillars so close, she couldn’t make out any words. Standing, she took a moment to examine the punctures and tears in her ragged clothing. Then she walked to the end of the hall.
In the alcove stood a statue of a shirtless warrior, less than a foot tall. Squat and broad, he had thick limbs, large feet, and a cartoonishly oversized head. His eyes lacked irises or pupils; his nose was broad, his ears small. He was slightly crouched, his legs together, and he held a club in each fist.
Summer looked around. The corridor ended here. “You must be the Protector,” she said.
The statue offered no response. Behind her, the pillars continued to batter the floor.
She found the statue quite light. Of course, with the tank stamp, she was considerably stronger than usual, making it tricky to guess how much the statue might normally weigh.
Turning, she faced the booming columns. The thought of running back through the frantic gauntlet was disheartening. She would need to rest again before attempting the return trip.
As she watched the columns piston up and down, Summer realized how difficult it was to see Roman and Derek at the far end of the hall beyond all of those moving obstacles. Which meant they couldn’t see her.
Summer looked down at the Protector. If she broke it, wouldn’t that mess up Jonas White’s plans? He needed it to access Uweya. She could pretend it had happened by accident.
With her stamp-enhanced strength, Summer flung the Protector to the floor. Nothing broke off. Upon closer examination, she failed to find a chip or a crack. She threw it down again. She bashed it against the wall. She threw it head first, then feet first. She hurled it end over end across the width of the corridor. None of the punishment even scratched it.
Summer supposed she should have known it wouldn’t be so simple. If the Protector were easily destructible, somebody probably would have broken it long ago.
Then she considered the pillars. If anything could destroy the little statue, it would be them.
She carried the statue to the nearest row of pounding columns. As she neared, the columns stopped ramming the ground. She continued forward, and the next row of pillars stopped functioning as well.
It was good news and bad news. She couldn’t use the obstacles in the corridor to destroy the statue, but apparently the Protector was her free ticket out. The trend continued as she progressed along the hallway. When she passed beyond the pillars, the spears stopped stabbing, the blades quit whirring, and the pendulums halted. In no time she made it back to Derek and Roman.
“Nice work, Summer,” Derek said, giving her a high five.
“Looks like you rescued your clothes from a pack of wild dogs,” Roman joked.
“I’m starting a new trend,” Summer declared. “Wet and mangled.”
“Can I see the Protector?” Roman asked, holding out his hand.
Summer could think of no good reason to deny him, so she handed it over.
“It’s light,” he said, hefting it. “Small. We need to be ready for the Jets to try to swipe it. You’ve got to be tired, so I’ll keep hold of it for now.”
Once again, Summer could think of no plausible reason to disagree. She nodded woodenly.
Derek and Roman trotted ahead of her. She had to help Nate. When would he strike? In the water, if he had any sense. But he needed to be careful. She knew how ruthless Roman and the other Tanks could be. If they got hold of anybody, they would force Nate to back off with threats of violence.
Roman stepped warily out into the night. As he passed through the entrance, the stone building began to shudder. Summer raced out the doorway as the hallway behind her
began to collapse. As she watched in surprise, the stone building folded in on itself, promptly shrinking down to nothing. The miniature replica of the building did likewise. The hillside where the building had stood looked churned up, as if an excavation had caved in. Otherwise there was no indication the building had ever existed.
Roman studied the sky. “We have to be ready for an attack at any moment. When they come for us, grab them. If we show them we’re in charge, they’ll back off.”
“Should we go straight across to the mainland?” Derek asked. “Or should we loop around wide, maybe avoid them.”
