Running on Fumes Page 8

  Mondo marched us over to the van and shoved us inside. Petal, the guy Joe had named Einstein Wannabe, and Solar Man were already in place.

  “You’re late,” Stench said from the driver’s seat. “I said midnight.”

  I waited for Mondo to tell Stench where he’d found us. He didn’t.

  Did that mean the copter was a secret? Stench seemed to keep a lot of secrets from his followers.

  “Lateness shows a lack of attention to detail,” Stench continued as we started down the road through the desert. The solar panels had clearly stored up plenty of energy during daylight hours. We were going at least seventy.

  “That can be deadly in our missions.” Stench’s voice filled every corner of the van.

  “Sorry,” Joe muttered.

  “One mistake, and someone could die tonight.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  It definitely didn’t sound like we were going to do more paint splattering—and that thought was confirmed by the absence of paint cans.

  And something else was different from the last trip to town. Something besides Dave being replaced by Einstein Wannabe.

  The van was bumping and jerking like last time. Petal had managed to get herself situated tight up against me. Mondo had shotgun again. Stench was driving.

  What was it? The inside of my brain started to itch. Whatever it was was important.

  I looked over at Joe. He signed one word to me.

  “Gas.”

  That was it! The inside of the van reeked of gas.

  And the van ran on solar power.

  Something was very wrong. I scanned the vehicle, trying to figure out the source of the gas fumes. I caught Stench watching me in the rearview mirror.

  “No paint tonight?” I asked. I tried to sound eager. Like I was looking forward to whatever was coming.

  “Don’t need it,” Stench answered. His smile turned my spine to ice.

  “What is our mission tonight?” Joe asked. “I’m sorry we were late—we didn’t get to hear it.”

  Stench’s smile just grew wider in reply.

  “Mr. Stench gives us information on a need-to-know basis,” Petal said into my ear. “He doesn’t really like questions.”

  A leader who expected his followers to obey without asking questions. I flashed for a moment on those faces I’d seen on Mount Rushmore. Our country was founded on debate.

  Did Stench know that? If he did, he obviously didn’t care.

  The muscles in my back and shoulders, and even my jaw, tightened as the van rolled into town. I felt Petal tense beside me. What was going to happen? Where was it going to happen?

  We rode down the short main street, then hung a left. I took in the rows of houses. Imagining the people sleeping inside.

  Was one of them Stench’s target? Was he planning to use the gas to burn down one of these houses?

  No. Another couple of turns and we were on a much more commercial strip. Fast-food places. A strip mall with a mini-mart. A sporting goods store. Parking lot.

  Stench made a left and parked across the street from the parking lot. “Everybody out,” he ordered.

  I noticed he had a paper bag in his hand when he climbed out of the van. Wet splotches had appeared in the paper.

  I made a point to position myself behind Stench, downwind. The gas fumes were coming from the bag.

  Stench led the way across the street. A high aluminum fence circled the car lot. Stench nodded to Mondo.

  Mondo pulled a pair of bolt cutters out of the back of his pants. With one snap, the lock fell off the gate. Mondo opened it for us with a bow.

  Rows of bright-colored pennants flapped over our heads. A giant neon sign that read SPORT UTILITY SALE glowed in the showroom window.

  They weren’t kidding. The lot was filled with SUVs, SSRs, Hummers. A jeep that was probably seven feet wide. Even a monster truck that was probably more to attract people to the lot than anything else.

  Solar Man let out a tortured groan behind me.

  Petal shook her head. “Commercials make you think driving these things are about going off-road. Getting back to nature. But they destroy the environment.”

  “And no matter how often we say it, they won’t hear,” Stench said. “No matter how many articles we write, they won’t see.”

  He shook his head. “Global warming, smog emissions, dependence on foreign oil …”

  Einstein Wannabe shook his fists in the air. “No fossil fuel! No fossil fuel!”

  Stench put his finger to his lips. Einstein Wannabe instantly went silent.

  “We need to do more than speak and write,” Stench continued. “We need to save humanity from itself. And the first thing we have to do is get their attention.”

  Stench pulled a damp cloth out of the paper bag. I got a strong whiff of gas. He unwrapped the cloth. I saw a coil of rope.

  I knew instantly what it was for.

  The rope was a fuse.

  Stick one end in the gas tank. Light the other. The flame would follow the gas-soaked rope all the way to the gallons of gas. Then …

  “Which of these gas-guzzling demons should be our victim?” Stench asked. “I say that one.” He pointed to a big red SUV.

  Mondo, Solar Man, and Wannabe Einstein let out a cheer. Stench started toward the vehicle.

  I glanced at Joe. I could tell by his face we were in agreement. No way were we letting this happen.

  “Stench!” I shouted.

  He half turned, not looking pleased at the interruption.

  “You think it’s wrong to eat anything with a face. You want to live in peace with the entire planet,” I called.

  “That’s right,” Stench answered.

  “Doesn’t that include human beings?” I demanded.

  “We have faces,” Joe added. “We live on the Earth.”

  Stench jerked his thumb toward the SUV. “That is not a human being.”

  “Some human makes his living selling it,” I answered. “Some human will lose thousands and thousands of dollars.”

  “To learn a lesson,” Stench said. “Haven’t you been listening? I do care about humanity. I’m trying to save lives.”

  “We’re all going to die if people don’t start listening to Mr. Stench!” Einstein Wannabe agreed.

  “People have to see the light!” Solar Man chimed in. Stench turned back around and strode toward the SUV.

  Joe nodded at me.

  And we both launched ourselves at him.

  I hit Stench behind the knees with one shoulder.

  We both went down hard. Stench on the asphalt, me on top of Stench.

  He managed to flip over on his back. He used both feet to kick me in the chest.

  I flew off him, but shoved myself to my feet a second later.

  Joe had managed to get one arm wrapped around Stench’s throat. He was clawing at Joe’s face, but Joe wasn’t letting go.

  I figured it was time to go for the gut. Stench’s stomach was vulnerable to attack. I backed up to get a little speed going … and found myself dangling in the air, thanks to Mondo.

  His arm was like a vise. I tried to execute a roll, but I only moved about an inch.

  Mondo strode over to Joe. He snatched him up and stuck him under his other arm.

  “Take them to the van,” Stench ordered. “Solar Man, I give you the honor of lighting the fuse.”

  I felt like a sack of groceries. It was humiliating. Mondo wasn’t even breathing hard when he dumped Joe and me back into the van.

  He positioned himself in front of the open door. Less than five seconds later, the others came racing back across the street. They hurled themselves inside.

  We all stared out the window as the SUV exploded.

  NOWHERE TO HIDE

  “I’m very disappointed in you two,” Stench told Frank and me as he drove away. “I thought I could trust you.”

  I stared at the back of his head. How much did I want to get my arm wrapped around his neck again? Pretty much
more than anything. But Mondo was sitting right next to him. As usual.

  Want to take a guess at what was second on my list of wants?

  If you guessed coming up with a foolproof escape plan, give yourself a big gold star. Because now that Frank and I had “disappointed” Stench, I thought some very unheavenly things were going to happen to us when we got back to Heaven.

  So, about that foolproof escape plan. We needed one, fast. From a van zooming through the desert at about seventy miles an hour.

  Hmmm.

  My brain was one big blank. I looked at Frank. There didn’t seem to be a lightbulb over his head either.

  The ride back to the compound felt like it took minutes instead of the usual half an hour. Think, I ordered myself as we passed the NOW ENTERING HEAVEN sign. Think.

  Hardly any time left.

  I looked over at Frank again. He deliberately moved his gaze to the van’s sliding door.

  And I got it.

  Between Frank and me, I was closer to the door. I pretended to tie my shoe to get a little closer.

  The van slowed down as we reached the rows of tents. I made my move. I yanked open the door and hurled myself out.

  Pain in my knee. In my shoulder. Sand up my nose. Down my throat.

  “Get them!” Stench yelled.

  A hand grabbed my arm. Pulled me to my feet.

  I peered into the darkness.

  Frank. It was Frank.

  We tore down the closest row of tents. No point in ducking into one of them. Almost every tent held a Stench follower.

  And it wouldn’t take the others long to search the dining hall or the lab or the tents that held other supplies. We definitely couldn’t go back to the copter tent.

  Racing out into the desert probably wasn’t the smartest move either. It was a death trap with no food or water.

  I stumbled, went down on one knee—the same one I’d landed on when I jumped out of the van. I found myself staring at a wooden shovel.

  I took a moment to look around. We were in the garden.

  “Frank! The compost heap!” I whispered. I dashed over to the large heap of vegetable peelings and started to dig with the shovel. Soon we heard other voices:

  “They couldn’t have gotten far!”

  “Check all the unoccupied tents!”

  “They’re going to pay!”

  The voices were getting closer. I dug faster. When I had a hole just big enough for Frank and me, we slid in.

  FYI: slimy vegetables down the shirt—don’t try it.

  “There’s no place to hide!” a guy called. I thought it was Dave.

  “I assume they started back to town. Perhaps they found their bikes, although they would have made noise.” That voice was definitely Stench’s. “I’m sure they’ll want to tell the police who blew up the SUV.”

  “Bikes. Good idea,” Frank whispered.

  He’d found our bikes. Shoot.

  “We have to go after them. We can’t let them get to the authorities,” Stench demanded.

  I heard the sound of footsteps moving away. “They’re leaving,” I said. A piece of old cabbage slid toward my mouth.

  “Now what?” Frank asked. “We can’t stay in here forever.”

  I spit the cabbage away from my mouth. “I think it’s kinda homey,” I answered. I thought for a moment. “We can’t try to find our bikes right now. We only know one road out of here, and we could run right into Stench and the van.”

  “Too bad the helicopter doesn’t have a stick,” Frank said. “From the air, it would be no problem to find our way out of the desert.”

  I thought for another moment. “You know what we should do?”

  “What?”

  “Stench and Mondo are both away from the compound,” I answered. “It’s the perfect time to search Stench’s house.”

  SURPRISE!

  Joe and I made a quiet trip to our tent for my lock picks. I was glad I’d decided to pack them. (I wasn’t sorry about the clean underwear, either. I was pretty sure my current pair was filled with rotten rutabagas.)

  Afterward we crept through the dark compound to Stench’s house. Joe held a microflashlight for me while I got to work. It’s not like there were any streetlights or anything.

  The lock was pretty basic. I stepped inside the house and automatically felt for a light switch, even though I knew I wouldn’t find—

  Wait. My fingers actually felt a little plastic switch! I hit it. The room flooded with light.

  “Whoa!” Joe exclaimed. He walked in and shut the door behind us. “This place is—”

  “—not ecofriendly,” I finished for him.

  It wasn’t just that Stench’s house was wired for electricity. The lines must have been run underground. He had a refrigerator. My eyes darted around the large room. And a TV. And a computer—the latest version. High-tech.

  Joe headed straight for the fridge. He pulled out a couple of bottles of water and tossed me one. “I don’t know about you, but I swallowed a cup of sand. And some slimed-out cabbage.”

  I unscrewed the water, rinsed my mouth, then walked across the room to spit in the sink.

  “Oh, man, Stench is such a fake.” Joe had his head back in the fridge. “Unless they’ve figured out how to make a cow without a face. He has steak in here. Hamburger.”

  “Let’s see if we can find something ATAC will be more interested in,” I said. I figured the computer was the place to start.

  Joe yanked the biggest desk drawer free and sat down on the floor with it. “Come to Papa,” he muttered as he started shifting through the papers.

  Stench hadn’t bothered with a password. I guess he thought the lock on the door and Mondo were security enough.

  I hit the Quicken icon. That program would let me see his banking records. How a guy gets and spends his money can be pretty interesting.

  “Oh, sweet,” Joe exclaimed. “That SUV Stench made Solar Man blow up? It looks like Stench owns it.” He waved the pink slip.

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “What was the point? What’s the point of all of this? I mean, Stench obviously doesn’t believe anything he says.”

  Joe shrugged. I turned my attention back to the computer and ran my eyes down a list of deposits and withdrawals. I hit PRINT.

  “Did you find something?” Joe asked when he heard the printer cranking up.

  “Oh, yeah. Stench has gotten several payments from a company called Petrol International,” I told him. “Big ones.”

  “Petrol—as in oil? Oooh. Stench has been a bad boy.” Joe raised his eyebrows as he scanned the printout. “A very bad boy. Turns out it wasn’t just that SUV he owned. He owns the whole dealership.”

  “He’s destroying the environment left and right,” I said. “Hey, I just thought of something. How weird is it that this place didn’t get touched when those townies came rampaging through?”

  “Pretty strange,” Joe agreed. “This building kind of stands out.”

  “I bet Stench paid them off. For some reason, he wants everyone here whipped into a frenzy.”

  “Ready for his plan. Whatever it is,” Joe said.

  I grabbed the sheet of paper from the printer. Which was right next to the landline phone.

  The phone!

  “Joe! Phone!” I burst out. “We can get some help.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of looking for a phone first thing.” Joe snatched up the receiver.

  “Drop the phone, Hardy!”

  STENCH’S PLAN

  I dropped the phone. If I didn’t, I figured Stench would order Mondo to pound me into the ground.

  “How do you know our real names?” Frank demanded.

  Right. Stench had called me “Hardy.” I’d been so shocked to see him and Mondo, it hadn’t quite registered.

  Stench walked over to the leather sofa on the other side of the room and sat down. “We found your motorcycles in the desert,” he answered. “Traced the registrations.”

  He wav
ed his hand at Mondo. Mondo stalked toward me and Frank. He reached into the kangaroo pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out some rope.

  “We know you’re not an environmentalist,” I told Stench.

  “That rope is very low-tech,” Stench shot back as Mondo began to tie my hands together. “It looks like you boys have been busy.” Stench nodded toward his desk. “How brilliant am I?”

  The guy’s a complete loon, I thought as Mondo tied my feet together. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Stench’s eyes started twirling like wind turbines.

  “How brilliant is this place?” Stench looked from me to Frank. “Oh. You didn’t put it together.”

  He shook his head, making a disappointed clucking sound with his tongue. “Well, I work for an oil company.”

  “Petrol International,” Frank said. Mondo was tying him up now.

  “And what do I do for them? Well, I’ll tell you. I gather up wackos.” Stench brought his hand up and began counting off on his fingers. “Solar Man: my first little wacko. Samuel Fisk: my Einstein-loving wacko. Petal Northstar: my little idealistic wacko. Janet Simkins: my intellectual wacko.”

  Stench smiled up at the ceiling. “I’m proudest of bringing Janet here. She might really have come up with something revolutionary.”

  I felt like puking. “So you get paid to make sure no one develops a good alternate energy source.”

  “You got part of it,” Stench said.

  “Oh, you are so sick,” Frank burst out. “I get the rest. Your job was to encourage these people to do violent things. You wanted them to look bad.”

  “You got it. No one wants to listen to people who are throwing paint and blowing stuff up,” Stench said. “I like you two. You’re smart,” he added. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. “Too bad I’m going to have to kill you.”

  Gulp.

  I mean, I don’t know what I thought Stench would do to us. But my brain hadn’t gotten to murder.

  “And I know exactly when I’m going to do it,” Stench told us. “Tomorrow. It’s Earth Day—or, at least, close enough. It was a couple of months ago. But because it’s my birthday, I’ve chosen to celebrate Earth Day again with you.”

  He started tapping his toe. Then he began to sing the “Happy Birthday” song. Except half the time, he turned it into “Happy Earth Day.” And he made the last line, “I’ll kill the Har-dees.”