Relic (18 page)

“Whoa,” Lisa said. “Just hang on a second. Now you're on board with Dean's plan?” Colin shrugged. “This was supposed to be hypothetical,” Lisa continued. “And remember, hypothetically speaking, you get caught stealing from a museum, you go to jail or juvenile detention or somewhere like that. You think Rodney and Eric are bullies? I bet those places are filled with people that even Rodney would be scared of.”

I shivered at that thought. But given the options, and the fact that we were up against the clock, I didn't see much of a choice. I started muttering to myself. “We could call the police on Sok, but that would only delay the inevitable. If I got another vision of him a week or a month from now, and he was too far away for me to do anything, then I'd be responsible for his death.” I shook my head. “I can't be responsible for that. I'd say we could try to find him and talk him out of it, but even if we found him, it probably wouldn't do any good. He'd never believe us. The best we could do is threaten to call the cops, but then he'd just try again later, and we'd just be back where we started.”

“Talking to yourself is a sign of mental instability,” Colin said. “I might need to mention this little one-sided conversation to Dr. Mickelsen.”

“Can you not make jokes right now?” Lisa said coldly. “We're discussing committing a crime here.”

Colin rolled his eyes but kept his mouth clamped shut. Several minutes of silence followed while I considered our options. Lisa looked strained, and I was pretty sure she was struggling to find an alternative too. Everything came back to the fact that the only real way to resolve this was to get the relic back to Sok. And since he and his village had already tried every legal way to do that, the only options that remained were the illegal ones.

“I don't see that we have any choice,” I said finally.

“What about just going back to Detective Peters?” Lisa said.

“I thought you were against that,” I said.

She bit her lip. “I was, but…”

“What would we say?” I asked. “That Sok is going to break in? What will that accomplish? At the very best a delay.” I shook my head. “He'd just try again later.”

“Maybe,” Lisa said. “Or maybe he wouldn't.”

“That's the point, Lisa,” Colin said. “How can we risk it? If Dean has a vision three months from now, what are we supposed to do?”

“I know all that,” Lisa snapped. “I just think there's a way to do this without going to jail.”

“Yeah, there is. Don't get caught,” Colin said. “If you have a better idea, let's hear it.”

Lisa paced around the park bench for several minutes. Every so often she'd make a move to speak, only to shake her head and continue on. Finally, she plopped back on the bench and sighed. “Fine. Let's do it. But we better not get caught.”

 

We ran home to get dark clothes to change into at the museum and to arrange things with our parents. The plan was the easy part; we had that sorted out before we got back to our block. Sok and the guards were supposed to die at 10:47, so we'd steal the relic before 10:00. We'd just go through any door we could on the way out and sprint for cover. The alarm would go off, but we didn't have an alternative, and Colin was sure we could make it.

We told our parents we were going to hang out at the mall for a few hours and then catch a double-feature at the theater. My dad said he'd pick us up outside the theater at 11:00, but my mom insisted that I clean my room before going out—a feat that took nearly two hours. When I finished, she kissed my head and told me to have a good time. I just about laughed.

I met Lisa and Colin at the bus stop. Colin had his bag stuffed with goodies again, but this time I was grateful. We needed to be prepared for contingencies, and Colin's mind was filled with every heist movie ever made. He probably had thought through a lot more scenarios than I had.

It was 3:30 when we stepped off the bus at the museum, and you'd have thought the entire town had come out that day. The crowd of protestors was surprisingly mellow, which I assumed had something to do with being blamed for the broken window and the increased number of police on the scene. Sok wasn't anywhere near the entrance, and he didn't seem to be in the crowd, either.
Probably getting ready for his theft
, I thought.

There must've been a hundred people just inside the main entrance. It sounded like there were hundreds more throughout the corridors; their voices mashed into a mix of gibberish that sounded like angry birds. A woman bumped into my shoulder, then a moment later, a man knocked into me from behind, grabbed my arm, and apologized before disappearing into the crowd. I panicked, remembering that I had to be careful who I touched and trying to figure out if he'd touched my skin or just my shirt and if that even mattered.

I darted for the wall and plastered myself to it. “I…I didn't get their names,” I said.

Lisa and Colin looked around confused. “Who?” Colin asked.

“Did you touch someone?” Lisa said.

Everywhere I looked, I saw potential visions, and for a few brief seconds, I was frozen with fear. I could picture the man and woman perfectly, but I knew I'd never seen them before and had no idea who they were. If I had a vision of either one of them, I'd never find them.

“It was a man and a woman,” I said. “They're gone.”

“Tell us what they looked like and we'll get their names for you,” Lisa said hurriedly.

I stammered through a description, but when I looked around, I saw dozens of people who matched the description, and by the worried expressions on Colin and Lisa's faces, I could see they were thinking the same thing. I was the only one who would be able to recognize them again.

“There are too many people in here, Dean,” Colin said. “You're going to be nudged and jostled a hundred times in this place.”

“I just need a place to hide out,” I said.

“Like a big storage room behind cavemen?” Colin asked.

Lisa shook her head. “It's not going to work. There are too many people. Someone will spot us if we try to sneak into that room. We'll be caught.”

“It has to work,” I said, not really believing that it was possible myself.

Colin smiled. He cinched the straps on his bag. “Let's just get you to the caveman exhibit and then we'll do what James Bond would do.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Shoot someone?”

“What? No. Well, he might do that I guess. But that's not what I meant. James Bond would do something else.” He lowered his chin and glanced around covertly. “He'd create a diversion.”

 

***

 

We moved one foot at a time. As we made our way down the corridor, Colin and Lisa formed a buffer around me, taking the brunt of any physical contact. Even with their bodies shielding me, I was still nudged twice more, and both times the people vanished into the crowd before I could figure out who they were, or even get a good look at them.

“Okay, Mr. Bond,” Lisa said when we were positioned in front of the caveman exhibit. “What now?”

Colin dropped his bag from his shoulder and grinned. “Just be ready to run.”

“We don't even know if it's still unlocked,” I said.

“No time to check,” he said. “Not unless you want to risk getting knocked around by a hundred more people.”

I shuddered. “No. We need to do this now.”

“You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?” Lisa asked, eyeing Colin cautiously. “Nothing that would start a panic in here, right?”

Colin paused for a second and tapped his chin. “Don't worry, Lisa, I know what I'm doing.”

As Colin disappeared into the crowd, Lisa muttered, “Why is it that whenever Colin tells me not to worry, I feel like puking?”

 

Lisa's comment about wanting to puke couldn't have been more fitting for what Colin had in mind. He was back beside us a couple minutes later, and we didn't even have time to ask him what he'd done before a sharp stench drifted down the corridor. It was like rotting eggs, fermented fish, and moldy cheese all rolled together in an invisible cloud.

Hands shot up as people covered their noses and made for the exit. One woman even rushed to a garbage can and vomited, and I thought I heard others doing the same farther down the corridor. I pulled the collar of my shirt up over my nose, and Lisa gagged. Colin stood beside us coughing.

“L—Lisa, you go first,” Colin sputtered. He waited until the corridor was thick with people heading for the exit, everyone moving together, heads down, eyes watering. No one was shoving or looking especially panicked, but they were moving at a steady pace. “Go,” he said.

Lisa didn't hesitate. She stepped over the rope and kept hunched. I held my breath as she turned the doorknob and slid through the doorway. From what I could see, no one noticed.

“G—Go, Dean,” Colin choked. “Now.”

I followed Lisa's example of keeping low and scrambled behind the bushes at the back of the display then through the door. Colin clambered through on my heels. The door closed with a satisfying
click
and Colin set the deadbolt.

The air felt fresh compared to what we'd just left. I blinked away the stinging in my eyes and took a moment to look at where we were. Three metal steps descended from a short platform beside the door. The room was huge, with a concrete floor and cinder block walls painted a dreary gray. Three skylights dotted the ceiling and let in wide beams of sunlight that reflected off the dust in the air. Shelves filled with boxes and artifacts covered most of the perimeter walls, and massive crates, easily big enough to fit three or four kids my size, filled up most of the floor space. At the back, wide metal doors were framed with a thin line of sunlight from outside. It was obviously the loading dock where artifacts and supplies were delivered.

“Did anyone see you guys?” Lisa asked.

“Nope,” Colin said.

We'd done it. Well, part of it. I smiled. “Nice move, double-oh-seven. What was that, some kind of stink bomb?”

Colin chuckled. “You won't find these stink bombs in your average gag-shop.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass vial about the size of his finger filled with a translucent yellow liquid. “These are Israeli military-grade stink bombs. They use them to stop riots. I got them a couple months ago from a guy online. They cost me a hundred bucks each.” I vaguely remembered Colin talking about them a while back, but he bought so many weird things online that I hadn't really given it much thought.

“Why would you buy something like that?” Lisa asked.

Colin looked from Lisa to me and back to Lisa again. “Um, did you hear me say ‘military-grade stink bombs'? How could I
not
buy them? I was going to break one in Eric's locker when school started.” He pondered for a minute. “But now I think I better save them in case we need them for another mission.”

“For once, your weirdness has paid off,” Lisa said.

“How many did you use out there?” I asked.

“Just one,” he said proudly. “I have a few more, but the smell hit me so hard when I broke the vial that I figured I didn't need any more. Don't worry. If they find it and clean it up, they can air out the building pretty fast.” He gestured to the room. “We better find a hiding place before someone comes in here. We still have hours to wait.”

 

***

 

We found a place to hide behind a stack of empty crates and a large two-dimensional plywood teepee leaning against the wall. We didn't speak for the better part of an hour. We could hear the odd voice carry through the door, but couldn't tell if the voices were guards or patrons. If we could hear them, we worried that our voices might carry through from our side. At 4:30 p.m., a voice came over the PA system announcing that the museum would be closing in thirty minutes.

“I'm going to explore this place,” Colin said.

“Just wait until they're closed,” Lisa said sternly. “What if they come in here?”

“They'll be chasing people out for the next thirty minutes,” he said. “I'm just going to have a look around.”

Lisa looked at me to back her up, but I just shrugged. Colin wouldn't listen to me anyway, and he was probably right. “Try not to make any noise,” I said.

Lisa glared and then sighed, defeated. “Just remember what's at stake, Colin.”

“Just remember what's at stake, Colin,” Colin echoed in a whiney, high-pitched whisper. He pushed himself to his feet, hunched over, and headed out to explore the boxes.

Lisa rubbed her palms on her jeans, and I realized her hands were shaking. She noticed me watching and shoved them under her legs. Her ears reddened almost immediately. I was reminded of how Dr. Mickelsen had neglected to say that Lisa was coping well.

“Are you okay, Lisa?”

The muscles in her jaw flexed. “Of course I am. Why do you ask?”

“I just thought maybe…I mean, if you want to talk about something. Anything…” I sighed. “Lisa, something is obviously wrong, and I really want you to talk to me about it. You've been there for me from the beginning. I owe you.”

“You don't.” She took a few deep breaths, and I saw a glint of moisture in her eyes. “It's not a big deal, it's just…sometimes I get scared that I'm going to do something to mess this up.” She picked at one of the crates nearby. “I'm worried I'll be the reason we fail. It's not like we get a second shot at this stuff. We fail and someone dies. I don't want to be the reason someone dies. Plus, my parents don't think I'm coping with Mrs. Farnsworthy's death very well anyway, and they're making me keep going to therapy at least until school starts.”

I nodded. “Maybe it will help. But you don't need to feel bad about how you feel. I mean, jeez, I feel like that every time I have a vision. Sometimes I'm so afraid I can hardly breathe.”