Arcade Catastrophe Page 70

Tucking his pistol under his arm, Victor went to work with his tools. The door swung open and he leaned through the doorway. “Bingo.”

“Elevator?” Trevor asked.

“Stairs.”

Victor passed through the doorway. As Trevor started through, he paused, catching the distinct scent of a person other than Victor. The odor came from the far corner of the landing, where nobody was standing.

“There’s a guy in that corner,” Trevor said. “I can smell him.”

For a moment, the air in the corner shimmered, then Todd materialized, charging forward with an upraised baseball bat. Thanks to the warning from Trevor, Victor had already turned to confront the attacker. Stepping toward Todd, the beefy investigator caught the bat in his palm before the swing had reached full momentum. A measured blow from Victor’s elbow sent the smaller, thinner man skidding to the floor. Bending over, Victor seized Todd by the front of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. Todd’s eyes kept darting nervously at Trevor.

“You like my bear?” Victor asked, shaking him. “Bears are omnivorous. They’ll eat just about anything. Even malnourished little twits like you.”

“It sounds like a kid,” Todd said, failing to keep his composure.

“It bites like a steel trap,” Victor promised, still gripping Todd by the front of his shirt. “Who are you?”

“I just work here,” Todd said.

Victor lifted Todd upward so he had to stand on his tiptoes. With his free hand, Victor messed up Todd’s green faux hawk. “You just work here? What are you supposed to be? The invisible custodian who cleans the stairs with his baseball bat?”

“Not invisible,” Todd corrected. “Unnoticed. I’m good at blending if people haven’t seen me.”

“Then you sneak up behind them and knock them out,” Victor said. “You blew it, pal. I’ve seen you. And my sidekick can smell you. Take us to Mozag.”

“Who’s that?” Todd asked.

“He’s the reason you can still walk and talk. Are you sure you want to take away my one motive for keeping you functional?”

“I’ve heard of him,” Todd admitted.

“You feel fragile. I’ve always wanted to see my bear dance on a skinny little guy like you.”

Trevor lumbered toward Todd and started sniffing him. Todd smelled strongly of beef jerky and potato chips. He tried to flinch away from Trevor, but Victor wouldn’t let him. Trevor nuzzled him roughly.

“Don’t waste one more second of my time, deadbeat,” Victor threatened. “Now or never.”

“I’ll take you,” Todd said. “But you have to make it look like you’re dragging me there, or no deal. You won’t get Mozag out, no matter how many steroids you take, no matter how big a bear you use as backup. This is Jonas White’s lair, man.”

Victor shifted his grip to Todd’s upper arm. “Let’s go. Double time.”

Trevor trailed Victor and Todd down multiple flights of stairs until they reached a door at the bottom. Victor opened the door and yanked Todd through. As Trevor followed, a blur from the side streaked across his line of sight, striking Victor on the side of his shoulder and sending him sprawling.

The attacker was a muscular man with spiky black hair. He turned to face Trevor defiantly.

“Watch out,” Victor warned. “He’s a Combat Kinetic—a ComKin.”

This concrete hallway was wider and taller than the one upstairs. Trevor reared up on his hind legs, towering over the man. Sneering, the ComKin jumped forward, kicking both legs into Trevor’s furry chest with sudden ferocity. The blow landed before Trevor could react. It felt like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. Trevor stumbled back, slamming his head against the side of the doorway on his way to the floor.

“Nice, Conner,” Todd said.

Trevor heard Victor start firing tranquilizer darts. Conner dodged from side to side, moving in quick, precise bursts, gradually worked his way down the hall toward Victor. Rolling over, Trevor saw Todd running off down the hall. Casting his pistol aside, Victor retreated from Conner, arms raised defensively.

Conner darted forward, his hands a blur as he issued blow after blow. Unable to divert the rapid onslaught, Victor staggered back like the victim of a machine gun, barely staying on his feet until Conner sent him flying with a vicious kick.

Roaring, Trevor tore down the hall. It felt good to get some speed behind his bulk. Turning, Conner looked alarmed. As Trevor reached out with his front claws, Conner jumped against the wall, then kicked off and sprang over the charging bear.

Trevor wheeled around just in time to receive a fierce kick to the head that knocked him onto his side. The stunning blow made a primal anger well up inside of him.

“Stay on him,” Victor advised, charging forward. As he drew near to Conner, Victor twisted sideways just in time to avoid a supercharged flying kick. Having dodged the extended foot, Victor stuck out an arm in time to clothesline Conner and tackle him to the floor.

Grunting and scuffling, the two men wrestled until Trevor approached from behind and bit down hard on the top of Conner’s shoulder. Trevor shook his head to the side, slamming Conner into the wall. The ComKin went limp in his jaws.

“Good work,” Victor said, brushing off his suit. “It’s all about timing with a ComKin. You have to anticipate and counter the attack before it comes. Otherwise they move too quickly and hit too hard.”

“Are you all right?” Trevor asked.

“I’ll have some bruises,” Victor said, spitting blood onto the floor. “Todd ran off that way.” He motioned down the hall.

“Do we follow him?” Trevor asked.

“I don’t know,” Victor said. “I doubt he was running to Mozag.”

“We know they have at least one other ComKin,” Trevor said.

“Katie Sung,” Victor agreed, retrieving his tranquilizer pistol. He started reloading it. “This guy dodged a few darts, but I hit him a few times, too. He should have been out cold. He must have some kind of immunity. Or maybe Jonas White was somehow using a simulacrum to give him a boost.”

Victor started running down the hall in the direction Todd had fled. Trevor ran along beside him.

“Where are we going?” Trevor asked.

“Not sure,” Victor replied. “But I don’t want to hold still and let them bring the fight to us.”

Reaching an intersection, Victor turned left. Trevor rounded the corner a pace or two behind, letting Victor lead.

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