Going Wild (26 page)

Charlie nodded.

“What did he do there?” asked Mac.

Charlie shook her head. “I don't know. He said it was . . . top secret.” A chill went down her spine.
Top secret enough to not be found on the internet?
she wondered. She felt guilty, somehow, on his behalf, though she couldn't imagine him being a part of this. Still, because of him, her friends now had reason to be worried for their lives.

“Well,” Maria said slowly, “do you think the bracelet was really being sent . . . to him?”

Charlie shrugged, feeling helpless. “He's always gone by Charles since I was born,” she said. “Charlie is
me
. But he used to be, I guess.” She shook her head. “How was I supposed to know?”

As Maria and Mac talked softly about this new development, trying to piece things together, a sudden wave of fear washed over Charlie.
Her father.
She reached for her phone and pulled it out, quickly checking her messages. He hadn't texted her back after
school. He'd said he was going to be home all day from work—where was he? It was almost dinnertime. Quickly Charlie called her father's cell phone. It rang five times and went to voice mail.

“Crap,” she muttered, and hung up. She started a text message, then thought the better of it and looked up her previous texts to him from earlier that day. They were delivered but unread. Impossible. He never left his phone for that long. Charlie's stomach twisted. She grew frantic, knowing instinctively that something was horribly wrong. “I have to go home,” she whispered.

The others stopped talking and looked up.

“I have to go,” Charlie said again. She dropped the stolen envelope in Maria's lap, grabbed her backpack, and before anyone could stop her, she ran from the room.

“Wait!” Maria cried. She darted out after her. “Be careful,” she called down the hallway after her. “Do you want us to go with you?”

Charlie stopped at the end of the hallway and looked back. “Just take care of yourselves!” she hissed over her shoulder. “And those files.” She fled through the kitchen past a startled Yolanda, and burst out of the house.

“She can protect herself,” Mac reminded Maria after she'd gone.

“And so can we, now,” said Maria. She pulled her bracelet from her pocket, hesitated, and clipped it onto her wrist. She and Mac held their banded arms out to look at them. “I wonder
what mine does,” Maria murmured.

“Want to find out?” asked Mac.

Maria shook her head. “I'm scared,” she said, with a nervous hitch in her voice.

Kelly raised an eyebrow, watching them, then shrugged and put hers on too. She held her arm out next to theirs, admiring her bracelet's sleekness and wondering what powers it held. She looked at the screen, but didn't dare try the buttons—she'd do that later in the privacy of her own room, in case her power was something strange like Mac's was.

They finished cleaning the mess and collapsed on Maria's bed, exhausted from the day, and in those quiet moments before dinner, Kelly lifted her head and regarded the other two, a venomous smile playing at her lips. “Sooo . . . ,” she whispered conspiratorially, “is Charlie really the one who destroyed the bathroom at school?”

Mac and Maria sat up. Mac's icy glare bored a hole through the girl. “
Part
of the bathroom,” he said.

“And no,” said Maria, eyes flashing. “She didn't.”

Once outside, Charlie ran at cheetah speed toward her neighborhood, not caring if anyone saw her. Her phone was in her hand when it began to ring.

It was Andy.

Charlie's stomach dropped, and she slowed down. Andy
never
called her—he hated talking on the phone. They'd only ever
communicated by texting. With shaky fingers, she swiped her phone to answer it.

“Hi, Andy, what's up?” Charlie asked, trying to mask the anxiety in her voice.

“Do you know where Dad is? He was supposed to pick me up. He's not answering his phone. Did he lose it or something?”

“He's picking you up?” Charlie was confused. “From school, you mean?”

“Duh.”

“It's, like, almost six thirty.”

“Battle of the Books went long. He was supposed to be here at six. Can you just tell him to come and get me?”

“I'm . . . I'm almost home,” said Charlie, and she started running again. “Listen, I'll call you right back, okay?”

“Yeah. Hurry up though. I hate sitting here like a loser.”

“Just sit there and . . . and do your homework. I'll call you right back.”

Charlie hung up and sped toward her house. But when she ran up the street to her driveway, her heart almost stopped. The front door stood open. Jessie was racing around the yard barking her head off, and Big Kitty was outside cowering under a bush.

Charlie darted over to Big Kitty and picked her up, commanding Jessie to follow behind her. She brought them in the house and hoped that Fat Princess was lying on a bed as usual.

Inside the house, dining chairs were overturned and cupboard
doors stood open. Loose paper and file folders were spread out over the table. “Mom? Dad?” she cried. “Where are you?”

The door to her father's study was open, and she ran inside. Papers and books were strewn everywhere. His desktop computer was gone, and so was his laptop and briefcase. The tower of Talos Global boxes was dismantled, and only a few remaining files were falling out of a tipped-over box. On the floor at Charlie's feet was her father's smashed cell phone.

Charlie's world crumbled around her. What was happening? Where was her father? Why were these soldiers doing this to her and her friends and family? She stared at the bracelet, realizing that whatever was going on, it was much bigger—and way more dangerous—than she could have ever imagined. And now at least one thing was becoming clear: the soldiers who wanted this bracelet were willing to do just about anything to get it.

A slew of questions raced through Charlie's mind. Who was behind all this? Who had sent the bracelet? Where had they taken her father, and what did they want with him?

But the scariest thing was wondering what else they had done that Charlie hadn't discovered yet. Was her mother okay? And what about Andy, waiting at school?

She had to get to him before they did. As Charlie dashed out of her house at full throttle toward Andy's school, she called her mom's cell phone, hoping she was done with her shift and on her way home like she was supposed to be. The phone rang. Three
times. Four.
Please pick up. Please pick up
, Charlie begged.

Just when she thought it was going to voice mail, she heard her mom's voice.

“Hi, sweetie! Great timing. You caught me on the way out.”

“Mom! Thank goodness.” Charlie felt a rush of relief as she neared Andy's school and saw him standing there, unharmed. “Mom,” she said again, “I don't know how to tell you this, but it's bad.”

“What is it?” Charlie's mom asked, her voice flooding with concern. “Is someone hurt?”

Charlie reached Andy, flung her arms around him despite his squirming, and said quietly into the phone, “It's Dad. He's missing, and the house is all torn apart. Somebody broke in, and . . . and I think he's been kidnapped. His phone is . . . is smashed. . . .” A hint of a sob came through her voice, but she choked it back. “You need to come and get Andy and me. We're at his school.”

There was a muffled sound, then a clunk, then a moment of silence on the phone. For a second Charlie thought she'd lost the connection.

“Mom?” Charlie's voice was ragged. She bit her lip and glanced at Andy, who stared at her with wide eyes that betrayed his fear.

“What's happening?” he mouthed.

Charlie took a deep breath. “It's going to be okay,” she whispered to him “You're safe with me.” Pretty safe, anyway. She knew that much by now. But if the strange animal soldiers could take her
dad . . . couldn't they take just about anybody?

“Mom!” Charlie barked again. “Are you there?”

Finally Charlie heard a muffled sound on the phone and her mother's voice again. “Keep your brother safe, Charlie,” she said, her voice jiggling like she was sprinting for the car. “I'm on my way.”

D
r. Charles Wilde sat in a large walnut chair near a window. The city below was lit up, offering an incredible view, and the smell of dinner on the nearby table was intoxicating. A bevy of animal-human hybrids roamed about. They shed their masks to eat, revealing fur, feathers, hides, and scales where their normal human skin would be. Urging them to enjoy the well-deserved meal was Dr. Gray, who was eating as well.

But Charles wasn't enjoying any of it. He was gagged and tied to the chair in which he sat. Another man in a much weaker state was fastened to the chair beside him—his old friend from Talos Global, Dr. Jack Goldstein. The man was ragged and half-starved. It had been a shock to see him . . . though maybe not as much once their fellow coworker Victor Gray appeared in the room and declared himself responsible for the less-than-ideal reunion.

The older scientist soon came to Charles's side and looked him over.

“Hungry, Charles?” asked Dr. Gray.

Charles narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“You will be soon enough,” he said. “Right, Jack?”

Jack didn't answer.

Dr. Gray smiled, though he wasn't happy. He still didn't have the device. And he wasn't quite over the fact that his former friends had stolen it. He pulled the gag out of Charles's mouth. Charles swallowed reflexively, his tongue dry.

“There, let's have a little chat,” said Dr. Gray. He pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing his long gangly legs. Two soldiers stood nearby.

Dr. Wilde eyed the man, his face bruised from the struggle with the soldiers who'd abducted him. He remained quiet, waiting to hear what Dr. Gray had to say.

“Jack here has been staying with me for some time now,” Dr. Gray began, “and though I've asked him repeatedly to tell me what he'd done with the Mark Five he stole, he very rudely refused to inform me that he had it sent to you. Or maybe you were there at the break-in?”

Charles narrowed his eyes in confusion.

Dr. Gray turned and glared at the sickly man. “That was very unhelpful of you, Dr. Goldstein,” he said. He looked back at Charles. “He also failed to inform me that it now works,” Dr. Gray went on. “Though perhaps he didn't know about that—I'll give him that much. But it does work, doesn't it? Which is wonderful news. And that's why you're here.”

Charles couldn't understand what Dr. Gray was talking about.

Dr. Gray stood up and clucked his tongue. “Testing the
Chimera on children,” he mused. He paced a few steps, then looked over his glasses and down his nose at Charles, and said in a dark voice, “Even I wouldn't do that.”

Charles couldn't listen to the nonsense any longer. “Victor, please,” he said. “I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen the Mark Five in over ten years.” And then he nodded to indicate the two soldiers standing guard. “What's going on here? What have you done to these people?” He glanced at the man next to him. “And what are you doing to Jack? He was your friend.
We
were your friends.” He shook his head and said firmly, “You need to let us go.”

“I will, eventually,” Dr. Gray said with a laugh, and then looked up at his soldiers as if he was very pleased with his handiwork.

“When?” asked Dr. Wilde. “Why are you keeping us here?”

“I need your help,” said Dr. Gray simply. “And once I get it, you can leave. If you still want to, that is.”

“There's absolutely no way I'm helping you,” said Charles. He struggled against his ropes, but they held him tight. “You're acting crazy,” he added, growing exasperated. “I won't participate in the creation of more monsters like these. And I don't have the Mark Five! So please—just let me go.”

One of the guards snarled and started toward Charles, but Dr. Gray waved him back. “Watch it, Doctor,” he warned. “They don't like it when you call them monsters.” He pulled a square
paper from his lab coat pocket and strolled over to Charles's side, holding it facedown on his chest to hide it. He bent slightly to peer into his former friend's face. “How did you get it to work?”

“What?”

“The Mark Five, of course.”

“I didn't! And it's not working, or I'd know. You've made a huge mistake, Victor.” Charles glared at Dr. Gray and struggled in the chair. “Let me go,” he said forcefully.

Dr. Gray straightened. “Tell me!” he said louder.

Charles seethed. “I'm telling you, it's not in use! It'll only work if I'm the one wearing it. Do you see it on me anywhere? No? Then it's not working. So let me go!” Charles wrenched hard against the ropes, only managing to tighten them. He fell back against the chair, his mouth twitching with anger.

Dr. Gray turned away and paced a few steps, thinking hard. Then he pivoted and stared, his eyes now void of emotion, his expression calculating, measuring each of the words Dr. Wilde had uttered. “It only works if you're wearing it?” He gazed at Charles for an uncomfortably long time. And then his face began to clear. “Aha,” he said softly. He glanced at the photo he clutched, holding it like a precious tool. Then he crouched down and drew closer. “I get it now. You tied the device to your DNA. How clever.”

“Yes, to protect it.” said Charles. “We used to care about safety. Remember those days? Now do you realize your mistake?”

“Oh,” said Dr. Gray, “there's no mistake. In fact, I can't wait
to see what other ideas you come up with as we work together.” He glanced at Dr. Goldstein, and then he grew the slightest bit wistful. “Like old times.”

Dr. Wilde closed his eyes. “For the last time,” he said, “I won't help you. Not for any price.”

At that, a strange smile spread across Dr. Gray's face. He stood up and gazed at the photo of the girl with the bracelet. “Oh yes, you will,” he said. He turned the photo around, and watched Dr. Wilde's expression change dramatically. “You'll help me, or I'll go after your dear little DNA-matching namesake next.”