Shift:A Virals Adventure(18)

I looked at him strangely. “Hi, we’re not taking credit for this.”

“Do what now?” Hi’s forehead creased. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

“Are you taking stupid pills?” Shelton snapped. “We can’t draw that kind of attention to ourselves. Any attention. You should know that by now, Stolowitski.”

“We’re still Viral,” Ben said quietly. “We’re only one mistake away from being caged like lab rats. Always. The best thing we can do is go unnoticed. Period.”

I nodded. “For us, there’s no such thing as good publicity.”

“Oh, come on!” Hi actually stamped his foot. “We can explain this one! Step by step! The world won’t suddenly suspect we’ve got superpowers, they’ll just think we’re awesome and brilliant. And I, for one, like that idea!”

Hi searched faces, hunting for an ally. Found none.

Go easy. You’re the one who wanted to impress Aunt Tempe.

“Hey, I know you’re awesomely brilliant.” I offered a high five. “What more do you need?”

“Fame. Glory. A book deal.”

“I’ll buy you a Twix.”

Hi buried his face in his hands. A beat, then, “I do love those.”

He sighed. “Fine. Deal.” Slapping my palm with his. “But I want the full candy bar. None of that mini, Halloween-sized crap.”

Shelton was tugging his earlobe again. “But how do we put it together for a dope like Hudson without tipping our involvement?”

I grinned.

“That’s the fun part.”





Fire hazard?

I read the email a third time.



To: LIRI Director Christopher Howard.

Re: Fire Suppression Alert, Vehicle Depot A.

Subject: WARNING



The automated sprinkler system at LOGGERHEAD ISLAND, LIRI COMPOUND, VEHICLE DEPOT A has been disengaged. This constitutes a preventable fire hazard under the terms of LIRI’s property insurance agreement. Immediate remedial action is required.



Note: This message is part of the automated warning system. Do not reply.



I rubbed my eyes with both palms. Pinched the bridge of my nose.

What a day.

I’d been director for weeks, but this was a first.

Frankly, I wasn’t sure what to do.

This job is going to kill me.

But I knew I had to investigate. We’d already been robbed. I didn’t need a fire.

Frustrated, I stood and strode from my office. Being Sunday, the rest of the director’s suite was empty. The rooms still made me uncomfortable—I still thought of this area as belonging to my predecessor. Probably always would.

“One thing after another,” I said aloud.

I took the elevator to the ground floor and crossed to the security desk.

Carl was on duty, not Chief Hudson.

Why am I relieved? I hired the guy.

“Any word on my daughter, Carl?”

The portly guard shot to his feet. “No sir, Dr. Howard. Director Howard.”


He snatched off his cap and began spinning it in his hands.

I suppressed a sigh. Carl and I used to swap jokes.

“Relax, Carl. And, please, call me Kit. It’s no big deal, I was just curious. The kids show up without warning, then they drop off the grid.”

This only made Carl fidget more. “Should I look for them, sir? I mean, Director. Er, Kit.”

“Forget I asked.” I waved the guard back to his seat. “If anyone needs me, I’m heading over to Depot A for a sec.”

“Yes, sir, Director Howard.” Carl winced. “Doctor. Kit.”

I slipped through the glass doors, shaking my head. Things would never be the same. The price you pay for being in charge, I guess.

A part of me missed how things used to be.

Sometimes, I felt like fraud. A little boy, sneaking around in Karsten’s impossibly large shoes. I worried the other LIRI veterans thought the same about me.

At times like this, I missed being plain old Dr. Howard, the nerdy marine biologist who obsessed over loggerhead turtles. People liked that guy. They didn’t stammer, or grow quiet when he approached the water cooler.

Those days were gone. But if the cost of saving LIRI was being forced to manage it, I was willing to pay.

Plus, let’s be honest. Being the boss does have its perks.

Once outside, I followed the path to Vehicle Depot A. I tried my key, but a shrill beeping erupted the moment I touched the knob.

Hudson has the system back online. Thanks for the heads-up.

Moving to the keypad, I punched in a seven-digit code and swiped my card. There was a hum, then a flash as the sensor took my photograph. The door swung open.

I entered a narrow corridor. To my left was a door leading to the garage. To my right was a row of employee lockers, a pair of offices, and a storage closet. My objective was straight ahead: a maintenance room housing the sprinkler controls.

I didn’t bother with the lights, and soon regretted it. Halfway down the hallway something snagged my pants.

Rip.

“What the heck?” I retreated a step and fumbled for a switch.

The halogens sputtered to life, revealing a long black cable jutting from one of the lockers. The casing had been cut, exposing the copper wire within.