The Super Spies and the High School Bomber (10 page)

“I don't know if I can eat. I just got sick.” Sarah gave her aunt a bleak look.

“Why don't we get out of the hospital, anyway? Fresh air would do us all some good.”

“Yeah,” Lacey nodded. “I am kind of hungry. Maybe we can stop at Hinkle's.”

Aunt June bit her lip. “Yeah, let's just get out of here. We can't do anything just sitting here.”

Sarah sighed. “Maybe I'll get a ginger ale.”

The family stood and made their way out of the waiting room and down the hall. Sarah grimaced, as the thought of food turned her stomach.

Bright sunlight blinded her when she walked out of the hospital, and she blinked several times until her eyes adjusted to the illumination. The sun warmed the top of her head and her shoulders.

As Sarah climbed into the car, it hit her with the force of a punch—
Uncle Walt may have to learn to drive again
. She choked back a sob, hiding it from her aunt and sister. Aunt June started the car and they were on their way to Hinkle's.

The restaurant was alive with activity. Even though a bomb had the town reeling, it couldn't stop people from gathering at Hinkle's. The restaurant was the watering hole for the small town of Harrisburg. People wandered in to discuss family news or share gossip. It was a jolly place, usually filled with animated conversations and laughter, but not today.

Sarah caught bits and pieces of the discussions as she waited. Patrons talked about the bombing, and even though the restaurant was busy, it was subdued. The twinkle of Christmas lights that decorated the walls year round couldn't liven up the atmosphere today. A wave of grief washed over Sarah and tears welled in her eyes.
Will this town ever be the same
?

Finally, the hostess seated them in a booth. Sarah was relieved. The booth seemed to provide protection from prying eyes and Sarah took a deep breath. Hiding behind the menu, she focused on getting her emotions under control.

The smell of bacon wafted past Sarah's nose and her stomach rumbled. It dawned on her she
was
hungry
.

She studied the menu. “Everything looks good. I guess I'm hungrier than I thought.”

“What are you going to get?” Lacey asked.

“I don't know. The farmer's omelet looks good.”

“I'm getting pancakes and sausage. How about you, Aunt June?”

“I don't know, maybe just coffee.” Aunt June frowned and fiddled with her hair. Some strands had escaped the large barrette clasped at the nape of her neck.

“You've got to eat something,” Sarah said.

Aunt June gave Sarah a weary smile. “You're right. It won't do your uncle any good if I don't keep up my strength.” She sighed and picked up the menu again. “I guess I'll get an omelet, too.”

“So it's decided we're all getting breakfast.” Sarah closed her menu and placed it on the table.

The family sat in glum silence as they waited for the waitress to return. Sarah realized no one knew what to talk about. Her seat moved as someone sat in the booth behind her. The gruff voice that spoke caught her attention and her stomach fluttered.

“Any news?” the gruff voice asked.

“Yes, and it's not good.”

The soft pad of footsteps and the sound of rustling paper told Sarah that the waitress was at the table behind her.

“What'll you have?”

“Just coffee,” the gruff voice said.

“I'll be right back with that.”

The waitress stopped at Sarah's table. “Are you folks ready to order?”

Aunt June looked up. “Yes, we'll have two farmer's omelets and pancakes with sausage.”

“What'll you have to drink?”

Aunt June looked around the table. “Girls?”

“I'll have apple juice,” Sarah said.

“I'll have orange juice.”

The waitress left to place the order and Sarah leaned back in the booth, hoping to hear the rest of the conversation between the two men.

“I don't know,” the gruff voice said.

“What do you mean, you don't know?”

“I don't know. I have no idea why the third one didn't work.”

Sarah shuddered when she recognized the voices from last night. Her breath caught in her throat as waves of dread raced through her body.

“Shhh…keep your voice down.”

The sound of the waitress returning made Sarah want to turn around and sneak a peek at the men. Instead she sat straighter and leaned her head back so she wouldn't miss any of the conversation. The sound of the cups sliding across the tabletop seemed amplified to her, and it grated on her nerves.

“Did we get him?”

Sarah heard a growl of frustration. “No.”

“What? Dude, are you serious?”

A fist pounded the table—Sarah jumped along with the bomber's coffee cups.

“Take it easy, dude. You have to keep that temper of yours under control. Have you been taking your meds?”

The booth creaked as the gruff-voiced man shifted in his seat. “Never mind about my meds. And quit calling me dude.” The bomber sighed. “He's up at the hospital right now.”

Sarah's heart leapt to her throat.
Who are they talking about
?
Is it Uncle
Walt
? It took all of her willpower to keep from turning around. She wanted to put faces to the familiar voices.

“What's the plan now?”

“I don't know. I just know we've got to finish it,” the gruff voice said.

“Yep.”

The voices grew silent. Sarah's heart hammered in her chest as the men slurped their coffee. Sparks of anger swirled through her system.
What should I do
?
The bombers are right behind me
,
but I don't have any evidence to prove it!
She frowned and clenched her hands.

“Let's go,” the gruff voice said.

The men left the booth. Sarah could barely breathe as she looked back. All she could see was a tall bald man limping away. Fear squeezed her heart as she watched him retreat. Turning back around, she pushed against Lacey.

“Move!”

“Wh-what's the matter?” Lacey asked.

“I need to get out of the booth. I'm going to be sick.”

Lacey gasped and scrambled out of her sister's way.

Sarah rushed after the men as they made their way out of the restaurant. She pushed open the door and dashed outside just in time to see the bald man climb into a green, mud-splattered pickup truck. The truck started with a roar and clattered around the corner. Sarah strained to see the license plate.

“GLF-8896,” Sarah said. She continued repeating the license number to herself as she walked back into the restaurant.

 

 

“Aunt June, I need a pen,” Sarah stated as she slid into the booth.

Aunt June searched her purse and pulled one out. “Here. What do you need this for?”

“I have to write something down, so I don't forget.” Sarah grabbed a paper napkin and quickly wrote the license number down.

“What is that?” Lacey glanced over Sarah's shoulder.

“Just something I want to remember.” Sarah shielded the paper so Lacey couldn't see it.

Relief washed over her when the waitress appeared with their food, diverting everyone's attention for the moment. As the server put the plates on the table, Sarah snatched the napkin out of view and stuffed it into her pocket.

The steam rose off the omelet that was stuffed with vegetables and hash brown potatoes. Sarah's mouth watered. She grabbed her fork and dove into her food.

Aunt June studied her for a moment. “I thought you were sick?”

“False alarm.” Sarah gave her aunt a lopsided grin, before turning her attention to her food.

As she ate her breakfast, Sarah's mind churned with questions.
Why
would these men bomb the high school
?
Who are the bombers after
?
Is it Uncle Walt
? The last question sent a chill down her spine. She put her fork down and cleared her throat.

“Are you full already?” Aunt June asked.

“No, just taking a breather.”

“That omelet looks good. I'll have to get that next time,” Lacey said, as she put a forkful of pancake into her mouth.

“It is really good.” Sarah wiped her mouth with her napkin. “I guess I am full.” She pushed her plate away and drank the rest of her juice. “I'm going to the bathroom.”

As Lacey moved out of her way a second time, Aunt June bent over her plate again and Sarah realized she hadn't put much of a dent in her omelet. She hurried to the bathroom and pulled out her cell phone. Stepping into a cramped stall, she closed the door. Her hands trembled as she dialed Jackie's number. She sighed as she waited for her friend to answer. Sarah leaned against the stall for support. After a number of rings,
Jackie's sleepy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, you did. What time is it?”

“I don't know, around ten, I guess.”

“Hmm. You must have thought that six hours of sleep is enough?”

“They found Uncle Walt,” Sarah said. Her voice echoed in the bathroom stall emphasizing her aloneness. She took a ragged breath and blinked back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Clenching her teeth, she willed her tears away.

“Really? Is he all right?”

“They had to do surgery. They won't know how successful it was until he wakes up.” Sarah used what was left of her nail to pick at some paint chipping away on the wall of the stall.

“I'm sorry, Sarah.”

Sarah nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. You need to come down to the hospital right away.”

“Why?”

“I just ran into those two guys we saw last night.”

“No kidding! Where?”

The alarm in Jackie's voice sent a chill down Sarah's spine. She took a deep breath and said, “At Hinkle's. They're gone now. But we need to figure this out. They're talking about setting off another bomb.”

“Oh no! Okay, I'll meet you at the hospital...in about twenty minutes.”

“Okay. See you then.” Sarah hung up the phone. She opened the door and walked to the chipped sink. Leaning forward, she stared at the ceramic tile while thoughts of the bombers invaded her mind. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and her body shuddered as dread coursed through it. She took a deep breath and focused on her surroundings to calm her nerves. The bathroom was old. Sarah could tell because the white ceramic tile was a tiny octagon shape. She figured its design had originated before she was born because the only place she'd seen it was in houses built in the sixties. She turned on the faucet and splashed her face with cold water. It revived her and she took more deep breaths. Avoiding the mirror, she wiped her face with a paper towel and left the restroom.

When she reached the table, Sarah was relieved to see Aunt June counting out the tip.

“We better get back,” Sarah said. Her tone was sharp and her aunt glanced up, with a perplexed look.

“Is there something wrong?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, I just want to get back.” Her muscles grew tense and she paced as she tried to hide her anxiety.

Aunt June finished quickly. “All right…all right…let's go.”

Sarah led the way, hurrying outside.

“What is going on with you?” Lacey asked.

“I'll tell you when we get to the hospital.”

“Tell me now,” Lacey demanded, anger flashed in her eyes.

“I can't. I don't want Aunt June to hear.” Sarah cast a furtive glance over Lacey's shoulder.

“All right, but you better tell me as soon as you can.” Lacey frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

Aunt June searched her purse for her car keys as she walked from the restaurant. “Okay, girls. Let's get back to the hospital.”

As she walked toward the car, Sarah's stomach clenched into a tight knot. She thought about the conversation that she had overheard. Fear wrapped its cold fingers around her heart and she felt a familiar pain in her chest. She stopped suddenly and took several deep breaths. The pain subsided and she rushed to catch up with Lacey and her aunt before they realized she had stopped.

When they reached the hospital, Sarah leapt from the car. She searched for Jackie in the parking lot. Disappointed when she didn't find her, Sarah turned her focus to the bombers as she trudged behind her aunt and sister.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that when she traipsed into the hospital she didn't notice Jackie waiting for them in the lobby.

“Hey, girlfriend,” Jackie greeted Sarah with a smack on the arm.

“Hey.” Sarah grabbed her arm. “Aunt June, I'll be up in a few minutes.”

Aunt June turned and nodded.

Lacey spoke with her aunt for a brief moment and then hurried toward her sister and Jackie.

Sarah glanced up and pursed her lips as her aunt hurried toward the elevators.

“Okay, what's going on?” Lacey asked when she reached the other two girls.

Sarah sighed and studied the toe of her sandal for a moment. “Those guys are in town.” She looked at Jackie.

“You mean the guys from last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Hold on, what guys?” Lacey asked.

Sarah took a deep breath and told Lacey the story of her adventure the night before. Lacey's eyes widened and she looked at Jackie for confirmation. Jackie nodded with a solemn expression.

“What does all this mean?” Lacey asked, wringing her hands.

“It means that the explosion was meant for someone in particular,” Sarah said.

“Could it have been meant for Uncle Walt?”

Sarah shook her head. “We don't know. It's a possibility. The problem is that they're going to set another bomb.”

“How do you know?” Lacey asked in a shrill voice.