while trash is learning
the truth, torchie and
cheater rush to
the rescue …
“IT’S LOCKED,” TORCHIE said. He twisted the door knob again just to make sure.
“Of course it’s locked,” Cheater said. “Open the lock.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Burn it.”
“I can’t burn metal,” Torchie said.
“How do you know? Have you ever tried?”
“No.”
“So try.”
“Okay, but stop shouting at me.”
Torchie glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody was coming down the street toward them. He didn’t think that would be a problem. The buildings on the street looked empty. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Absolutely.” Cheater pointed to the faded lettering on the canopy that still covered the walkway, “KRAUS FUNERAL HOME. I read it right out of Bowdler’s mind. Now hurry up.”
“Don’t rush me.” Torchie scrunched up his face, stared at the lock, and tried to make it catch fire.
“Nothing’s happening,” Cheater said.
“I know. Give me a minute. It’s not like it’s a piece of paper.” Torchie took a deep breath, stepped back, and tried harder. The doorknob started to glow.
“You’re doing it!” Cheater shouted.
The glow faded.
“Please stop talking,” Torchie said. He was pretty sure he had the technique now. He gave the knob a full-power blast.
Wummmppfffff.
With a sound like a gas grill lighting, the whole door burst into bright-orange flame. A wave of heat washed over Torchie’s face, drawing a flood of sweat from his forehead. The fire only lasted for an instant. Then it faded, leaving the door looking darker than before.
“Wow. That was fast. Talk about spontaneous combustion.” Cheater reached forward and touched the surface of the door with the tip of one finger.
The whole door collapsed in a pile of ashes. The knob, with the key-plate and bolt still attached, fell with a clatter, bouncing down the steps like the world’s most badly designed Slinky.
“That’ll work,” Cheater said. “Come on. Let’s rescue them.” He jumped through the opening, throwing an awkward flying kick, then let out a shout of pain as he landed.
Torchie sniffed the air. Beside the smell of burned wood, he noticed something else. A sharper smell. Plastic, he thought. Torchie was familiar with the way just about anything flammable smelled when it burned. He looked up and saw the melted remains of thin red and black wires at the top of the door frame. Probably for the doorbell.
Feeling pleased that he’d opened the door without attracting attention, Torchie followed Cheater into the building.
give me five
“I FIGURED BOWDLER had to be from the government. He has all these resources. Everyone who was after me looked like some kind of government agent.”
Thurston shook his head. “Manpower isn’t that expensive. There are plenty of thugs with guns looking for work. You can hire someone to do anything—even guard a captive kid without asking questions.” He waved his hand around us. “This place is nothing, considering the size of Psibertronix’s budget.”
“Psibertronix? Who are they?”
“You heard of the cold war?” he asked.
“Sure. When the US and Russia were trying to destroy each other without dropping bombs.” I’d had that in social studies. The space race was part of the cold war—with both countries trying to get some sort of military advantage. And there was all sorts of spy stuff. Tiny cameras. Deadly poison hidden in the tip of an umbrella. Secret codes. Double and triple agents. Stuff that would have seemed super cool to me before I’d gotten that dart in my neck.
“We were way ahead of Russia in electronics,” Thurston said. “Russia was far ahead of us on psychic research. For the most part, our military and intelligence agencies ignored paranormal phenomena. Almost nobody believed in it. But a group of researchers persuaded the Pentagon to fund experiments in the hopes that we could use psi powers to win the cold war.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t a government group.”
“Not now. Back then it was. Bowdler and I headed a unit that was part of a joint project run by the CIA and the Army. I was brought in because I’d helped uncover some of the Russian secret projects. Bowdler was brought in because of his background in psychology and mind control. We were especially interested in remote spying. But we investigated all sorts of other wild stuff—we tried to walk through walls, knock out animals with our minds, develop immunity to toxic gas.”
“What did you discover?” I asked.