Shift:A Virals Adventure(13)

“Serves you right,” I panted. “Vengeance is mine.”

Ben’s knee connected with my gut.

“Ooof!” I rolled to my back, crawled for cover, and collapsed.

Ben crouched beside me, rubbing his face. “You almost broke my nose.”

“You punctured my lungs. And my spleen. And my ovaries.” Not true. But flaring, I could feel bruises forming in my midsection. “You’ll pay for these crimes, Blue.”

“Any time, chunk.” Ben slapped my back. Which hurt, too.

“Shh!” Shelton sat, back pressed to the wall, ear cocked toward Building One. Seconds ticked by. Finally, “No one’s coming.”

Then he rounded on Ben and Tory. “Why are we all runnin’ and hidin’ in the first place? Why not just snuff our flares? News flash: They already know we’re out here! And we haven’t done anything bad. Not yet, anyway.”

“I’m not ready to quit.” Tory pulled a twig from her hair. Her eyes were still hidden behind black Ray-Bans, but I recognized the stubborn set to her chin. “I want to finish our inspection, without interruption.”

Classic Tory.

“God, I respect you,” I deadpanned, flat on my back.

“Shut it, Hi. We’ll check this garage first, then the other buildings on this side of the courtyard, one by one, like before. Any objections?”

Hearing none, Tory popped to her feet.

I rolled to my side, fully intending to stand.

Didn’t happen. My lungs weren’t ready for duty just yet.

So I lay on the concrete, panting, plotting my revenge on Ben.

Vehicle Depot A resembles a small fire station. Three garage-like doors provide access to a single mechanic’s bay. To the right of the doors, a separate entrance leads to a few small offices, workrooms, and an employee break room.

The wall sheltering us was barely five feet high, and separated the depot’s rectangular driveway from LIRI’s main courtyard. Inside the wall, to the building’s left, a grassy area stretched to the hedge line bordering Shed Three.

I lay in the wall’s shadow, directly facing the last garage door.

From my unique vantage point—face to the concrete—I noticed something.

Wet specks. On the pavement.

Curious, I lifted my head slightly. Zeroed my flare vision.

Details snapped into HD. The specks became fragmented streaks.

Parallel lines, a foot apart. Nearly invisible.

Tracks. Wheels?

LIRI had a fleet of ATVs, but they used wide tires, suitable for off-road terrain.

But these treads were thin, more like those of a bicycle. Extremely light, too. Without my flare vision, I’d never have noticed them. The tracks couldn’t have been there more than a few hours. In another, they would fade completely.

“Something that rolls,” I murmured. “But not a motor vehicle.”

Shelton looked up. “You say something?”

I didn’t answer. My eyes traced the lines across the driveway.

Another surprise. Instead of joining the path, they swerved into the grass.

“Huh.”

I rose to my hands and knees and crawled to where the concrete ended and the grass began. Then, pressing my cheek flat on the pavement again, I examined the yard.

There. Twin ranks of broken blades, running directly toward the hedge.

“Hey, now.”

I sat back on my heels and squinted hard at the bushes. Spotted a gap right where the tracks ended. The damage was plain to see. Snapped branches. Crushed leaves. As if something heavy had been forced through them recently.

But what?

Then I had it. “A hand truck.”


“Hiram?” Shelton was eyeing me closely. “You okay, man? ’Cause I’m not getting a hand truck to lift your sorry butt. Suck it up.”

“No.” I bounced to my feet. “Look at these wet streaks. The grass. That hedge. Something heavy was rolled through here. I’m guessing a hand truck.”

Tory was beside me in flash. “Where? Show me.”

I explained my observations, step by step.

Shelton whistled. “You see like a damn eagle.”

“Great work, Hi.” Tory beamed.

I drank in the praise. “Also, whatever the load was, it came through here in the last few hours.”

Shelton frowned. “How can you tell?”

“Wet wheels.” Tory looked to me for confirmation.

“Correctamundo. It hasn’t rained for days. Whatever made these tracks must’ve rolled through last night’s dew. These tread marks will evaporate soon. They’re almost gone now.”

Ben chucked my shoulder. “Nice work, Thick Burger.”

“Thank yourself. If you hadn’t viciously assaulted me, I’d never have noticed.”

Ben nodded stoically. “So in a way, I’m the hero.”

I snorted. “Benjamin, you’ve done it again.”

“These tracks lead . . . there.” Tory walked to the last garage door in the row.

Though dirty, it looked serviceable. But a trio of rusty barrels blocked it.

Ben walked over and tugged the handle. It wouldn’t budge.

“Aha.” He kicked the base of the door. “There’s a spiffy new padlock.”

“Look at the pavement near the wall.” Shelton pointed to a spot a dozen yards away, in the corner of the driveway. Red-brown accretions tarnished the concrete. “Those are rust stains, from these barrels. They used to be over there. Somebody’s hiding something!”