The Candy Shop War
Page 60
Behind her, the fireball landed, spreading across half the roof, the dry shingles welcoming the searing flames. A scorching wave of heat washed over Summer as she glided away from the burning barn. By the time she reached the parking lot, Summer landed hard enough that she dropped to her knees, banging them against the asphalt. Rising, she leapt over to where Nate stood holding the Stargazer, which now had deep splits running through the gashed hull.
“I landed on my back,” he said. “It still got smashed up.”
Summer could see an imprint in the ground where he had landed. “At least it’s basically in one piece. Take the gum.” She handed him a stick. “Run to Mr. Stott’s. I’ll find Pigeon.”
“You think Denny will be all right?” Nate asked.
Summer gazed up at the barn. “Only the roof is burning so far. Eric and Kyle aren’t chasing us yet. I’m sure they’re helping him.”
Nate spit out the jawbreaker and put the gum in his mouth. “Get away as fast as you can,” he warned. “This is out of control.”
Overhead, snapping and popping, the flames leapt higher, reflecting hellishly off the billowing smoke.
Chapter Fifteen
A Short-Lived Victory
Dizzy, dazed, ears ringing, Pigeon vaguely heard Summer shout something about Nate, and saw her running after Denny. Across the room, Kyle was sitting up, hands clamped to the sides of his face. The redhead tried to stand but sank back to his knees.
Pigeon knew exactly how he felt.
Closing his eyes, he seemed to feel the room slowly rotate. The blaring of the alarm competed with the internal ringing for the distinction of most annoying noise in the universe. As he bowed his head and focused on his breathing, the rotating slowed and the ringing diminished.
Pigeon opened his eyes in time to see Kyle leap from the window. By the drifting quality of the jump, he could tell Kyle must have eaten a Moon Rock. Pigeon took out a Moon Rock of his own and staggered to the window.
On the patio below, Kyle spit out the Moon Rock and stuck a small cookie in his mouth. He started shooting upward, growing taller and thinner, limbs stretching, nose elongating.
“He’s in here!” Denny cried from over beside the barn.
Pigeon saw Summer dashing into the barn after Denny. The new, taller, uglier Kyle ran over to the barn, where he was joined by the reptilian Eric.
Slipping his own Moon Rock into his mouth, Pigeon leapt from the window, soaring out over the patio and landing on the grass near the parking lot. The night air helped clear his head. Some distance away, a pair of horses watched the commotion from the pasture adjoining the barn. Pigeon started jumping in their direction, gliding across the field in long, gentle parabolas. One of the horses shied away at his approach; the other tossed its head and stamped a hoof.
Pigeon spit out the Moon Rock and dug some Brain Feed out of his pocket. The dappled gray horse was much bigger than it had appeared from a distance—Pigeon was nowhere near as tall as its back. He eased nearer to the horse, hand held out flat. The horse stepped toward him, lowering its head. The wet mouth brushed his palm as the horse ate the fragrant kibbles.
“You really aren’t supposed to come into the pasture,” the horse said in a friendly, masculine voice.
“It’s an emergency,” Pigeon said. “I need your help.”
“With what?”
“I was wondering if I could ride you to go help my friends.”
The horse chuckled. “Right. I get it. I’m a Percheron. Sure, they say we were bred to carry knights into battle, the tourists eat that up, but in real life, I pull the hay wagon, I make nice with the kids, I . . . whoa, check that out.”
Pigeon turned around and saw a blazing ball of fire rising up from the top of the barn, expanding as it ascended. The ball slowed, hung in the air, and then fell, holding its shape until unfurling wildly across the roof, setting the shingles ablaze.
“What kind of trouble did you say?” the horse said soberly.
“We’re trying to save the town from bad guys,” Pigeon said.
“Hop on.”
Pigeon stuck a Moon Rock into his mouth and lightly jumped up onto the broad back of the horse.
“You’re light!” the horse exclaimed. “No wonder you can bounce around like a grasshopper. You’ll want to grip with your knees. Go ahead and hang on to my mane.”
The horse started cantering across the pasture. “How do we get out?” Pigeon asked.
“I’ve noticed a flimsy spot over here,” the horse said, loping toward the library, then slowing at the fence. “Never thought I’d take advantage of it.” A front hoof lashed out, and Pigeon heard a fencepost splitting. The hoof shot out a few more times, and the fence clattered down. The horse walked over the fallen wood. “Where are we going?”
“To that girl,” Pigeon said, pointing at Summer. She was running toward him along the edge of the library parking lot. The horse trotted toward her.
“Pigeon!” Summer cried. “You’re okay!”
“I was coming to get you,” he said. “Need a lift?” He patted the horse’s neck. “Can you handle her?”
“Easy as pie,” the horse said.
“Use a Moon Rock,” Pigeon suggested.
Summer put the candy in her mouth and floated up to sit behind Pigeon. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“Where’s Nate?”
“Running the ship to Mr. Stott’s house. I gave him some gum.”
“What about our bikes?”
“Leave them,” Summer said. “Denny, Eric, and Kyle have all changed into monsters.”
“I saw,” Pigeon said.
“I need a destination,” the horse interrupted.
“Away from the library along that road,” Pigeon said. “Speed is important.”
“Off we go,” the horse said, breaking into a fast canter. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m hoping you can take us home,” Pigeon called, wind in his face. They passed a police officer standing outside his car, gazing up at the burning barn. It was the same officer who had spoken to Pigeon at the cemetery. He paid them no heed.
“You got it,” the horse said. “I’ve always wanted to see more of the town. I get to walk in the Fourth of July parade, but otherwise I never leave the farm.”
“We really appreciate this,” Summer said.
“Don’t mention it,” the horse laughed. “You’re as light as the other one. I can hardly feel either of you. What a night! This is great, like a jailbreak. Hear the sirens?”
“I landed on my back,” he said. “It still got smashed up.”
Summer could see an imprint in the ground where he had landed. “At least it’s basically in one piece. Take the gum.” She handed him a stick. “Run to Mr. Stott’s. I’ll find Pigeon.”
“You think Denny will be all right?” Nate asked.
Summer gazed up at the barn. “Only the roof is burning so far. Eric and Kyle aren’t chasing us yet. I’m sure they’re helping him.”
Nate spit out the jawbreaker and put the gum in his mouth. “Get away as fast as you can,” he warned. “This is out of control.”
Overhead, snapping and popping, the flames leapt higher, reflecting hellishly off the billowing smoke.
Chapter Fifteen
A Short-Lived Victory
Dizzy, dazed, ears ringing, Pigeon vaguely heard Summer shout something about Nate, and saw her running after Denny. Across the room, Kyle was sitting up, hands clamped to the sides of his face. The redhead tried to stand but sank back to his knees.
Pigeon knew exactly how he felt.
Closing his eyes, he seemed to feel the room slowly rotate. The blaring of the alarm competed with the internal ringing for the distinction of most annoying noise in the universe. As he bowed his head and focused on his breathing, the rotating slowed and the ringing diminished.
Pigeon opened his eyes in time to see Kyle leap from the window. By the drifting quality of the jump, he could tell Kyle must have eaten a Moon Rock. Pigeon took out a Moon Rock of his own and staggered to the window.
On the patio below, Kyle spit out the Moon Rock and stuck a small cookie in his mouth. He started shooting upward, growing taller and thinner, limbs stretching, nose elongating.
“He’s in here!” Denny cried from over beside the barn.
Pigeon saw Summer dashing into the barn after Denny. The new, taller, uglier Kyle ran over to the barn, where he was joined by the reptilian Eric.
Slipping his own Moon Rock into his mouth, Pigeon leapt from the window, soaring out over the patio and landing on the grass near the parking lot. The night air helped clear his head. Some distance away, a pair of horses watched the commotion from the pasture adjoining the barn. Pigeon started jumping in their direction, gliding across the field in long, gentle parabolas. One of the horses shied away at his approach; the other tossed its head and stamped a hoof.
Pigeon spit out the Moon Rock and dug some Brain Feed out of his pocket. The dappled gray horse was much bigger than it had appeared from a distance—Pigeon was nowhere near as tall as its back. He eased nearer to the horse, hand held out flat. The horse stepped toward him, lowering its head. The wet mouth brushed his palm as the horse ate the fragrant kibbles.
“You really aren’t supposed to come into the pasture,” the horse said in a friendly, masculine voice.
“It’s an emergency,” Pigeon said. “I need your help.”
“With what?”
“I was wondering if I could ride you to go help my friends.”
The horse chuckled. “Right. I get it. I’m a Percheron. Sure, they say we were bred to carry knights into battle, the tourists eat that up, but in real life, I pull the hay wagon, I make nice with the kids, I . . . whoa, check that out.”
Pigeon turned around and saw a blazing ball of fire rising up from the top of the barn, expanding as it ascended. The ball slowed, hung in the air, and then fell, holding its shape until unfurling wildly across the roof, setting the shingles ablaze.
“What kind of trouble did you say?” the horse said soberly.
“We’re trying to save the town from bad guys,” Pigeon said.
“Hop on.”
Pigeon stuck a Moon Rock into his mouth and lightly jumped up onto the broad back of the horse.
“You’re light!” the horse exclaimed. “No wonder you can bounce around like a grasshopper. You’ll want to grip with your knees. Go ahead and hang on to my mane.”
The horse started cantering across the pasture. “How do we get out?” Pigeon asked.
“I’ve noticed a flimsy spot over here,” the horse said, loping toward the library, then slowing at the fence. “Never thought I’d take advantage of it.” A front hoof lashed out, and Pigeon heard a fencepost splitting. The hoof shot out a few more times, and the fence clattered down. The horse walked over the fallen wood. “Where are we going?”
“To that girl,” Pigeon said, pointing at Summer. She was running toward him along the edge of the library parking lot. The horse trotted toward her.
“Pigeon!” Summer cried. “You’re okay!”
“I was coming to get you,” he said. “Need a lift?” He patted the horse’s neck. “Can you handle her?”
“Easy as pie,” the horse said.
“Use a Moon Rock,” Pigeon suggested.
Summer put the candy in her mouth and floated up to sit behind Pigeon. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“Where’s Nate?”
“Running the ship to Mr. Stott’s house. I gave him some gum.”
“What about our bikes?”
“Leave them,” Summer said. “Denny, Eric, and Kyle have all changed into monsters.”
“I saw,” Pigeon said.
“I need a destination,” the horse interrupted.
“Away from the library along that road,” Pigeon said. “Speed is important.”
“Off we go,” the horse said, breaking into a fast canter. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m hoping you can take us home,” Pigeon called, wind in his face. They passed a police officer standing outside his car, gazing up at the burning barn. It was the same officer who had spoken to Pigeon at the cemetery. He paid them no heed.
“You got it,” the horse said. “I’ve always wanted to see more of the town. I get to walk in the Fourth of July parade, but otherwise I never leave the farm.”
“We really appreciate this,” Summer said.
“Don’t mention it,” the horse laughed. “You’re as light as the other one. I can hardly feel either of you. What a night! This is great, like a jailbreak. Hear the sirens?”
