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"Only in an emergency," the warlock said. "You haven't been trained with this equipment. Spencer and Daisy will keep it safe. If danger arises at the Academy, you'll get your share."
Penny ushered Dez toward the door. She nodded at Daisy and stopped when she reached Spencer. "Nice to finally meet you," she said.
Spencer stared at Penny's face, that bright red hair curving around her cheeks. She was so familiar. He knew he'd seen her sleeping in the van's pa.s.senger seat.
Penny smiled and extended her hand. "The youngest warlock in history."
Spencer tried not to blush. "Only for a moment." He accepted her handshake.
Without warning, Spencer's vision bleached and he gasped. His eyes opened and he saw a stewardess standing in the aisle beside him.
"Sir," she said, "would you like something to drink?"
Spencer glanced out the small black window of the airplane. Then he turned back to the stewardess. He shook his head and held up a dismissive hand. It was a man's hand, with a white pressed cuff at the wrist.
The woman in the aisle pushed her cart away and he leaned his head back against the airplane seat. Brightness clouded his vision and he squinted against it.
"Spencer?"
He felt someone reaching around him. Red with embarra.s.sment, Spencer realized that he had collapsed into Penny's arms. She helped him stand, eyes full of concern.
"Are you all right, Spencer?" Penny asked.
"Ha ha!" laughed Dez. "I've never seen someone so desperate to get a hug!"
"Get Dez outside," Walter said, coming up alongside Spencer. Penny gave the boy one last worried look before dragging Dez out the front door.
Daisy and Walter helped Spencer to the couch just as Alice reentered the room. She raced to her son. "What's wrong, Spence?" His face was pale and he was shaking slightly.
"Nothing," Spencer said. "I'm okay now." He rubbed his forehead. Were these visions actual glimpses of real life? Was it the future? The past? Or was he imagining things that didn't exist? There was only one way to find out.
"Walter?" Spencer said. "Where were you today at noon?"
"We were driving to Welcher, fast as we could," the warlock answered.
"Did you come through Cheyenne, Wyoming?"
"Yes, we were there at noon." Walter put a hand on his bald head. His tone was very serious. "But how could you know that?"
If there were one person who might have answers, Spencer knew it would be Walter Jamison. As crazy as his experiences sounded, Spencer needed to tell all.
"I saw you. No ... I saw through you. Penny was sleeping. You were whistling along to a song on the radio."
"And where were you?" Walter asked.
"In Princ.i.p.al Poach's office, picking up a behavior form."
"Did it happen again just now?" Walter gestured to the spot where Spencer and Penny had shaken hands.
Spencer nodded. "I was in an airplane, 35,000 feet above Grand Island, Nebraska, heading west." Spencer held a hand to his head. How did he know that? He'd never even been on a plane before. But somehow he knew the exact location: alt.i.tude, lat.i.tude, and longitude. Spencer had a perfect fix, tight and sure as a GPS, on the mysterious person seated on that airplane.
"What?" Alice muttered.
"I've never even heard of Grand Island, Nebraska," said Daisy.
"Neither have I," Spencer replied.
"Can you tell me what caused it?" Walter asked. "Can you tell me anything else?"
Spencer shook his head, swallowing against the fear in his chest. "Maybe it was nothing," Spencer tried. "I could have imagined it." But the look in Walter Jamison's eye quickly dismissed that hope.
"Penny and I must go," Walter announced abruptly. "We'll drop Dez at his house and continue out of town. Mrs. Zumbro, let me thank you in advance for taking the children to the Academy program. It should give the Rebel reinforcements time to make Welcher safe again." He zipped his jacket and headed for the door.
Spencer stood up, still shaking. "Wait! Aren't you going to explain what just happened to me?"
The warlock paused at the door and drew in a deep breath. His face looked grim. "I wish I could."
"Well, why can't you?" Daisy asked.
"I don't know what's wrong with him."
The thought pierced Spencer. If Walter Jamison didn't know, then who would? And why did Walter say something was wrong with him? Wasn't that the word Spencer's mom used about his brother's broken toys?
"Don't speak of your experience to anyone," Walter said. "Remember, once you get to New Forest Academy, find Roger Munroe. He'll keep you safe."
"When will we see you again?" Spencer asked.
Walter opened the front door. "As soon as I find out what happened to you."
Chapter 12.
"I don't like where this is going."
Spencer felt someone shaking him. He rolled over and pulled a pillow onto his head. Was it time to get up already? He knew he'd stayed up too late packing his bag for the coming week at the Academy.
"Spencer," Alice whispered. Her voice didn't have the usual impatient tone of a wake-up call. "They're here."
The words injected immediate alertness into Spencer. He threw off the pillow and sat up, heart thumping. "Who's here, Mom?"
Alice glanced toward Spencer's second-story window. The pale light of dawn was filtering through the blinds. "The BEM. Five men are waiting in the yard outside."
Spencer didn't know why he was surprised. It was Monday, the day they were leaving for the weeklong program at New Forest Academy. Walter had said the BEM would arrive in Welcher today, but Spencer hadn't thought it would be so early. And he certainly hadn't thought they would come straight to his house!
With a shudder, Spencer remembered why the enemy was here. The BEM thought he had something important. They were coming to get it from him. Spencer felt incredibly vulnerable, surrounded in his own house.
"Get your things," his mother said. "We have to go."
"What about Daisy and Dez?"
"I already phoned over to the Gateses and explained that we'd be leaving earlier than planned. Daisy's parents were fine with it. Never takes much to convince them."
"And Dez?" Spencer asked. "He used to have a cell phone." As soon as he said it, Spencer remembered how Mrs. Natcher had confiscated the phone when she caught Dez playing games during science.
"All we have for Dez is an address," Alice said. "It's not too far from the Gates home. Daisy said she'd walk over and get him. We're supposed to pick her up there."
Daisy's courage always surprised Spencer. A few months ago, she'd been terrified of Dez. Now she was willing to make an early-morning visit and pound on his front door until the bully woke up.
Alice glanced nervously at the window again, as if she expected a BEM janitor to come cras.h.i.+ng through the gla.s.s on a broom.
Spencer tossed away the blankets and put his feet on the floor. His bag was ready to go, so all he had to do was change his clothes. Alice left the room as Spencer slipped into some jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt. He tied his shoes, grabbed his luggage, and headed down the stairs without even making his bed. That was a first.
Spencer found his mom and three-year-old brother standing in the kitchen. Max was still in his pajamas, a wide yawn stretching his little face. Max was up earlier than usual and had no idea he was about to take a long car ride to Colorado. Since Alice had been planning for an early-morning departure, she'd called in a favor and sent Spencer's other siblings to sleep at a friend's house.
Spencer walked into the living room and peered through the wide window into the front yard. Parked on the street was the vehicle the BEM workers had arrived in. It was an industrial van with a painted logo on the side: Flood Damage Cleanup & Repair.
Five men were strategically staggered through the yard: one near the porch steps, one by the side gate, another on the frosted lawn, and two more on the driveway next to the Zumbros' s.h.i.+ny new SUV. The men wore heavy coats and knit beanies. Their breath escaped as puffs of white in the cold November morning. In their gloved hands, they held frostbitten mops and pushbrooms, eager to lash out at something.
Alice suddenly appeared at Spencer's side, staring through the window at their only chance of escape-the SUV.
"You know," Spencer said, "we wouldn't be having this problem if you had let me clean out the garage so we could actually park in it."
"Garages aren't for parking," Alice said. "They're for storage."
"We need a plan," Spencer mused.
"The latex gloves," Alice said. "We could slip past the BEM and get into the car."
"I don't think so," Spencer said. "The gloves won't stop us from getting snagged in their mop strings. Besides, if any of them have on a latex glove under their winter gloves, we're caught for sure."
"A mop, then," Alice tried. "Can't we grab the car with the mop strings and drag it closer to the front door?"
"Not going to work," Spencer said. "I've never seen a mop strong enough to move a car."
"I should just call the police," Alice said.
Spencer shook his head. "The police won't help. Remember last time you called?"
"This is different," said Alice. "There are strangers staked out in our front yard."
"Not strangers. Flood Damage Cleanup & Repair." Spencer pointed to their van. "They've got mops. They look totally legit."
Spencer scanned the yard and driveway. There had to be a way to get safely into the Zumbro vehicle. "Do we have all the Glopified equipment in the house?" An idea was forming in Spencer's mind.
"The small stuff is in that cardboard box. The mops and brooms are still in the garage."
"Let's get everything upstairs into the toy room," Spencer said.
"The toy room?" his mother said. "I don't like where this is going. You've got your father's scheming look in your eye."
Spencer walked back into the kitchen, gathered his luggage, and found the cardboard box stocked with equipment. Max was scratching his messy hair, still trying to wake up. Alice slipped past him and quietly entered the cold, dark garage. She reentered the kitchen a moment later, arms laden with brooms and mops.
Spencer ushered Max up the stairs and into the toy room. The first rays of sunlight pierced through the window. Alice carefully set down the Glopified supplies.
Walking over to the huge toy box, Spencer started digging. He found what he was looking for buried at the bottom, forgotten since the weather turned cold. Four of his sisters' jump ropes were tangled together in a mess.
"No," Max said. "I don't wanna play jumpy rope. Let's play trucks!"
Spencer took a moment to untangle the ropes. Then, with his very tightest knots, he tied the jump ropes together in a long line. Crossing the room, he reached into the box of Glopified supplies and pulled out a toilet plunger.
"Time to put Walter's equipment to the test." Spencer picked up the jump ropes and tied one end squarely to the handle of the toilet plunger.
"Whatcha doing?" Max asked. Spencer crossed the room without answering his little brother. He opened the large window and peered outside. The toy room window had lost its screen last summer when Max pushed too hard. Now Spencer could lean over the open sill and get a perfect view of the driveway directly below.
"This is not a good idea," Alice muttered. But she didn't try to stop Spencer as he leaned out the window. In fact, Alice was reluctant to come within ten feet of the high, open window. Her fear of heights had kicked in as soon as Spencer opened the gla.s.s.
He would have to be quick. If the BEM sensed any movement from above, it could ruin his whole plan. Spencer held the plunger in one hand and the end of the jump rope in his other. The alignment couldn't have been much better. The SUV was parked directly below the toy room window.
Holding his breath for luck, Spencer took aim and dropped the toilet plunger.
Chapter 13.
"Are you trickin' me?"
The red suction cup made a resounding pop as it clamped onto the top of the SUV. The five BEM workers in the yard jumped at the sound, bringing their Glopified weapons to the ready. By the time they spotted the jump ropes dangling from the toy room, Spencer was already heaving.
The automobile felt lightweight as Spencer pulled the jump ropes hand over hand. Unfortunately, he hadn't considered the angle of ascent. As soon as the four tires lifted from the driveway, the SUV swung inward like a pendulum, smas.h.i.+ng the pa.s.senger side of the vehicle into the garage door below. Spencer winced at the sound. Max laughed and clapped his hands.
Alice started jabbering in a nervous monologue. Her speech consisted mostly of the word stop. Alice repeated it over and over again, sometimes in short staccato, sometimes drawn out like she was talking in slow motion. Spencer's mother even went so far as to spell it. "S-T-O-P!" Like phonetics might help get her point across.
But Spencer didn't stop. And he knew Alice wouldn't interrupt him, either. Spencer was using his mom's fear of heights, giving him s.p.a.ce to carry out his half-baked plan.
Each tug on the rope lifted the car higher, sc.r.a.ping and grinding the right side of the vehicle as it dragged up the front of the house.