Shift:A Virals Adventure(15)

Hi flourished a hand toward the grimy bins. “A trio of boxes, but only one prize.” He wrapped an arm around Tory’s shoulder, pretending to hold a microphone in his other hand. “Young lady, you’re our next contestant!”

I felt a pang of jealously, but stomped it to death.

Dumb. Dumb dumb dumb.

Tory played along, wide-eyed and enthusiastic. “What can I win? A new Prius?”

Hi arched a single brow. “Choose correctly, and you’ll receive the undying respect and admiration of your peers! Plus a Twinkie.”

Then his yellow eyes narrowed, his tone dropping to an ominous growl. “Choose wrong, and we’ll lock you inside the bin, then feed you to the monkeys.”

“Sounds wonderful!” Tory stepped forward and inspected her options. Then she pointed to the filthiest of three. “This one.”

“May I ask why?” Hi extended his fake mike.

Her reply was non-nonsense. “Because it’s the only one locked.”

She climbed the steps and lifted a glossy black padlock securing the bin’s door.

“Oh man.” Shelton kicked the base of the container, then winced and grabbed his foot. “Ouch! That was stupid. Don’t anybody else do that.”

“Check the other two first?” I suggested.

“Obviously.” Hi stepped up, swung a bin door, and peered inside. “Filled to the brim with monkey feed. And I’m not gonna lie, this stuff looks mighty tasty. Like a giant box of trail mix. When are we eating lunch, anyway?”

“I hope the gear isn’t buried in there,” Shelton said. “Could get messy.”

“Not a good place for storing laptops.” Hi hopped back down to the floor. “Might void the warranty.”

I opened the next bin with an echoing clang.

“Nothing.” Sticking my head inside. “Empty.”

Hi reached up and grabbed Tory’s hand. “Looking good for that Twinkie!”

Another jealous twinge. Ruthlessly extinguished.

What’s wrong with me lately?

“Door number three.” Tory tapped the lock. “Shelton. Work your magic, please.”

“At least I got a ‘please’ this time.”

They switched places. But Shelton had barely lifted a finger before stepping back and shaking his head. “Sorry, folks. No can do. This is a Granit closed-shackle padlock, not some BS school-locker model. High security design, too. This sucker uses an ABUS Plus disc cylinder with two hundred and fifty thousand key variations. It can be picked, but I need different tools. I only carry the basics on my key chain.”

Tory chewed her lower lip. I could practically see her mind racing.

I stepped up to examine the locked bin. It was old and battered, its color morphed from pewter to a dingy reddish brown.

My flaring eyes traced the rusty metal door. Noted the decaying hinges.

“Okay.” Tory spoke aloud as she worked through ideas. “We need some kind of cutters. The padlock looks solid, but maybe if—”

“Relax.”

Planting my feet against the side of the bin, I gripped the door handle with both hands and jerked backward.

Nothing. The metal held.

Digging deeper, I closed my eyes. Tugged again.

The steel whined, but refused to give.

“So it’s like that.” I slid my feet up until I was practically hanging sideways.

“Take it easy, slugger.” Hi drew a hand across his neck. “Know when to say when.”

“I’m just getting warmed up.”

Deep breath.

A growl escaped my lips as I wrenched with every ounce of strength in my body, willing the door to move.

Creeeeeeak.

CRACK!

I flew backward, skidded across the concrete floor, and crashed into Hi’s legs.

Hi went down like a bowling pin, knocking over a bucket beside the closest ATV. Something brown and sticky oozed onto his checkerboard shoes.

“I’m cursed!” he moaned. “These are limited-edition Vans.”

SNUP.

My flare vanished.

Losing the power was always a drag. Normal human senses seemed almost a punishment. Like some part of me died. I hated the feeling.

It took a moment to realize I still gripped the bin door in my hands.

Flipping it aside, I tried to clear the cobwebs.

“Whoa!” Shelton offered me a hand, golden light fading from his eyes. “Nice job, Hulkster.”

I shrugged, still woozy. “Simplest solution.”

A glance at Tory. She was beaming at me with normal emerald-green irises.

I felt my cheeks flush. “Help me up, Devers. I nearly broke my neck.”

“What is this gunk?” Hi was wiping his shoes with a dirty rag. “Not cool.”

His flare was gone, too. Why do they go out as one?

“Hey, guys?” Shelton slipped on his prescription specs and pointed to the now-open bin. “Moment of truth.”

“Wait!” Hi scrambled to his feet, oily sneakers squeaking on the concrete. “This is my game show!”

Hi charged up the steps. His upper body disappeared inside the container. I heard rustling noises, then he reappeared with a MacBook in one hand and modem in the other. “Anyone wanna play some Halo?”

“Oh, snap!” Shelton started dancing Gangnam style. “Somebody get that girl a Twinkie! Hell, give her a whole box!”