“Don’t let her get away!”
Dashing down the street, dodging trashcans and debris, Connor was quick and nimble as he spun a quick left, then right, passing the local Arby’s before turning into an empty parking lot. Trin did her best to follow, trying to ignore the shouting and banging behind her—the sounds of their pursuers gaining ground. Her heart sped up, spiking her adrenaline as her feet pounded the pavement—one by one by one. As she turned the corner, she nearly plowed into her rescuer, who had, for some reason, stopped short. She opened her mouth to beg him to keep going, then realized he couldn’t.
The parking lot dead-ended at a tall, barbed-wire fence.
Trin looked up at the chain links, nerves tensing. Long ropes of barbed wire gleamed back with sharp-toothed smiles. She glanced around the parking lot, desperate for an alternate escape route, but came up blank. There was no alternative.
Gesturing to Connor, she dove toward the fence, ripping off her jacket on approach.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
She gave him a grim look. “Up and over. It’s the only way.” She shoved a toe into the chain link and prepared to throw her jacket over the top while trying to ignore her rising fear. She hated heights. But she hated the idea of being shot in the back even more.
“Wait.”
Frustrated, she turned back around. “We don’t have time to—” she started, but trailed off as she caught Connor pulling a small silver disc from his bag and placing it on the ground. Once it was secure, he looked up at her.
“Use the Bouncer,” he instructed.
She stared down at the device, perplexed. “Wait, what—?”
“Just step on it!”
“Um, okay…” Confused, she tentatively pressed a foot against the disc—the Bouncer—whatever it was—no idea what it was supposed to do. No sooner did her foot connect than she literally bounced—impossibly high into the air—clearing the top of the fence by at least a foot. It was like something out of Fields of Fantasy—impossible in real life.
For a split second, she seemed to hang, motionless in thin air. Then gravity wrestled back control, sending her crashing down onto the ground, unfortunately still on the wrong side of the fence. She stared down at the Bouncer, then up at Connor. The voices in the alley grew louder. They were running out of time.
Connor yanked her to her feet. “When you’re in the air, jump forward,” he instructed. “So you’ll land on the other side.”
She nodded, forcing her gazillion questions back while clenching her jaw and stepping hard on the disc. Once again her body shot upward, this time giving her at least a two-foot clearance.
“Now!” Connor cried.
She threw herself forward, clearing the fence and tumbling to the ground, a hard shock rocking her core as her tennis shoes connected with pavement. Not a perfect ten landing, by any means, but it did the trick. Scrambling to her feet, she turned to watch Connor step on the disc himself, shooting into the air as she had, though not half as high. In fact, he barely cleared the barbed wire, skimming his knee along the razor’s edge before crashing back to Earth.
“Go! Now!” he cried.
Trinity didn’t need a second invitation. She dashed down the alleyway. From behind, she heard a strange whirring sound. She glanced back just in time to see the Bouncer fly through the air and land in Connor’s hand. He stuffed the amazing device into his bag and hurried to join her, just as three men in black swarmed the empty lot behind him. The men screamed furiously as they all tried to scale the enclosure at once, succeeding only in knocking one another down.
“That should buy us a little time,” Connor told her, running up alongside her. She noticed the barbed wire had torn his jumpsuit at the knee, the blood soaking through the silver fabric. She considered suggesting a tetanus shot, but realized future infection was probably the least of his worries right about now. “But we have to keep moving. Find someplace safe to hide so we can regroup and figure out a plan. Come on.” He picked up the pace.
“Wait!” Trinity called after him, leaning over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. “We have to find my grandpa first.”
Connor stopped, turning around, an impatient look on his face. “What?”
“My grandpa,” she repeated, rising to full height. “He’s expecting me to come straight home. He’ll worry if I don’t show up.”
“He’ll have more reason to worry if you do,” her rescuer shot back. “Those men? They’ll figure out where you live. They’ll come for you there. And if they find you with the egg—well, let’s just say they’re not in the habit of asking questions first.” He frowned. “You can call him from the road. Let him know you’re okay.” His voice left no room for argument.
But Trinity stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest. “No,” she said. “If what you say is true, that means he’s in danger too. And there’s no way I’m going to let him risk his life over some stupid museum exhibit.”
Connor squeezed his eyes shut, looking exasperated. Then he sighed, dropping his shoulders. “You’re right,” he said. “Let’s go grab him. But then we have to get out of there. Find someplace safe. Okay, Trinity?”
She nodded, relieved, then started racing home, tearing down Main Street, lungs burning as if on fire. If only she hadn’t been forced to give up track last year to work at the museum—she might have been in better shape for a quick getaway. Connor barely seemed winded, still clutching the egg protectively against his chest. The golden shell seemed to catch the moonlight, gleaming teasingly at Trinity, and she found herself itching to touch it again—to see if it would still feel like it had back in the museum.