The Adventures of Kid Combat Volume Two: The Heist of Spring Road Toys (13 page)

“We gotcha this time!” Ace said to her as
they wrestled on the ground for a few seconds. Samantha was tough
and scrappy for a girl her age, but she was no match for two older,
stronger boys. She kicked back and forth a few more times before
admitting defeat. The boys brought her to her feet and each one
held onto one of Sam’s arms.

Everyone at the party stopped what they were
doing and stared at the young girl and two boys. Whispers of
curiosity grew through the crowd as people searched for answers to
what they were witnessing.

At the top of the staircase stood Alfred E.
Scott. He calmly walked down the stairs, raising his arms out to
each side.

“Ladies. Gentlemen. No need for alarm. It
seems that one of my staff members took it upon herself to steal
some merchandise from the top floors of the museum. These two boys
work for me and have apprehended the criminal. The authorities will
be here shortly. Go back to having fun.”

“Gears,” Samantha said in a low murmur.

“Just a few more seconds,” was the response
in her ear.

Alfred E. Scott made it to the bottom of the
stairs and walked up to Samantha, who was still trying to fight her
way loose from the two boys. With a smug smile on his face, Scott
walked up to her. She stood there, blew the hair out of her face,
and stared the old man in the eye.

“You’re the girl from the other night, aren’t
you?” Scott concluded. He smiled and stood right in Samantha’s
face. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you were going to
accomplish up there, but you have lost, little girl,” Scott said in
a stern voice. Samantha just stood there, sweating ever so lightly
beneath her mask.

Just then, the music that was playing stopped
and the dozen video monitors around the museum went black. Again,
whispers were heard throughout the crowd as they gazed up at the
blank screens. A flicker later, an image appeared.

“We’re here to get paid, Alfy,” was the first
voice they heard.

“Yeah, where’s our money?” was the second.
Ace and Tommy looked at each other. They knew they were about to be
in trouble.

“Boys, boys, don’t worry about it. I have
it.” The video was a little blurry, but there was no mistaking that
the image was Alfred E. Scott.

“You were saying?” Samantha said to Scott as
his eyes went from the monitors back to her. She wished she had her
camera to capture the look on Scott’s face that went from
exhilaration to horror in a matter of seconds.

“Here you go. And here you go,” the tape
continued to play. “It was worth every cent to see that store
demolished. You boys did an excellent job smashing up Spring Road
Toys. You should be very proud.”

The whispers got louder. Alfred E. Scott got
scared and began to look around. A crowd gathered around him and
started to close in. There was nowhere to run. The video revealed
the events that had transpired moments ago, two floors up.

“… I will deny ever knowing you and certainly
deny ever paying you to get rid of that awful toy store next door.
And everyone will believe me over a couple of kids.”

The crowd was in an uproar. The mob started
closing in more. The video screens went dark.

“You did that?” a voice said from the crowd.
“You did that to Spring Road Toys?”

Scott looked around. Sweat started to form on
his forehead. “But … but it wasn’t me! It was these two boys,”
Scott said and spun around. No one was there. The boys were gone.
Only Samantha remained. She stood there with her usual sly smile on
her face and her hands on her hips.

Scott turned back around to the mob. They
threw more voices and questions at him, and he had nothing to say.
As the crowd was focused on Scott, a hand grabbed Samantha’s arm
from behind. Defensively, she snapped around, ready to pounce. Kid
Combat stood behind her.

“Time to go.”

Epilogue

The next morning, the papers and media
outlets started covering “The Heist of Spring Road Toys.” At least,
that’s what they were calling it. Reporters by the dozen camped
outside of the museum with their crews, vans, and heavy equipment.
The Science Museum, for the next few days at least, was the center
point of town and all anyone was talking about.

Alfred E. Scott, the former curator of the
museum, was arrested at noon on the steps of his beloved museum.
The flashes from the cameras made a strobe-like effect as the
curator was led down the stairs. He sobbed and cursed the entire
way as he was led into the backseat of the police car. With one
final push back, he emerged one last time to issue his final
decree.

“I will get that little girl! If it’s the
last thing I ever do!” he screamed out into the masses.

Upon hearing that from across the room, Kyle
Christensen turned off the TV situated in a cleaned, but still
disheveled Spring Road Toys. Most of the trash and broken toys were
gone, but the shelves remained bare. He stood there at the counter
with Samantha and the Thompsons.

“What an awful man,” Mrs. Thompson stated.
She stood there with her arms folded and shook her head from side
to side. “That poor girl better watch out for herself.”

Kyle, standing next to Samantha, glanced over
at her. “Oh, I’m sure she can take care of herself,” he said to
her, with a small grin on his face. Samantha smiled back at him
shyly, and then looked down at the floor.

“Yes. Well, he’s still horrible,” Mrs.
Thompson concluded. She picked up a pile of papers from the counter
and disappeared into the back room. Mr. Thompson, almost waiting
for his loving wife to leave, walked up closer to Kyle and
Samantha.

“Are you two going to be all right?” Samantha
asked.

“Oh, yes, we’ll be fine,” Mr. Thompson said
and patted Samantha on the shoulder. “The town has really started
to get behind us. They are setting up a charity fundraiser for us
to help us replace the toys and repair the store. Plus, I have some
money put away. We should be back up and going in no time,” he
finished with a wink.

“That’s good to hear,” Kyle said. He was
about to start another sentence when Mrs. Thompson returned from
the back room. Kyle hesitated and swallowed his words.

“We better get going,” Samantha said as she
turned to Kyle. He looked back in a bit of puzzlement. Samantha
noticed, but Mrs. Thompson was the next to speak.

“Go?” she said. “Do you really have to leave
us? You kids are so nice to talk to.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Samantha said, turning to Mrs.
Thompson. She then turned back to Kyle. “We told some friends we
would meet them. At The Playground,” she said with an obvious
emphasis on the last two words. It wasn’t lost on Kyle.

“Oh, yes! The Playground. We are running late
for that,” Kyle said, snapping out of it.

“Well if you must, then you must,” Mrs.
Thompson said very understandingly. “I just wish there was some way
to repay you for all your hard work.”

“It’s on the house,” Kyle said as he tapped
the counter. He and Samantha then turned and started out the
door.

“Kyle?” Mrs. Thompson said as the two were
almost out the door. Kyle and Samantha stopped and turned back
around. “Thank you,” she finished, tears forming in her eyes.

“Yeah. Thank you,” Mr. Thompson said. “To
both of you.”

“Don’t thank us,” Kyle said. He then pointed
at the TV. “Thank that girl from the museum. She did all the
work.”

**********

Far away from Elmcrest, the mood was less
cheery. The mysterious boy in blue stood in a long hallway. Made of
mahogany wood, the walls were dark and unadorned. Pillars, crafted
from the same dark wood, rose from the floor to the ceiling like
thick tree trunks.

Off to the boy’s left was a long hallway with
several windows. To his right was a single door.

Waiting for an invitation to enter the room,
he stood about ten feet away from the door, admiring the one lone
picture on the wall. It was an old picture, black-and-white, of a
young man wearing a suit and holding a key. The boy couldn’t make
out the man in the picture, but he continued to study it.

After several minutes, the single door opened
with a haunting creak, and a man exited the room. It was an
anonymous member of the house staff. As the door opened, the boy in
blue looked at the lapel of the man opening the door. On it was a
pin with just the letters JI going diagonally down from left to
right. They were the same initials, in the same pattern, on the man
in the picture.

“He will see you now,” said the man as he
stood attention by the door and waited. The boy in blue, whose face
was mostly hidden by his hood and dark glasses, simply nodded and
walked toward the door. As the boy walked by, the man bowed
slightly and closed the door behind him. The man, alone, exited
down the hallway.

The room was full of windows that normally
provided plenty of natural light. The entire back wall was made of
glass, and if it wasn’t for the overcast day, the room would have
been filled with sunlight. But with the storm clouds rolling in,
there was little chance of that.

The boy walked toward the far side of the
poorly lit room. It was hard for the small boy to make out much. He
did notice the walls were painted gray, and there was a lot of
silver furniture. Silver chairs, tables, and other pieces littered
the room. At the back was a silver desk. On it sat the only light
in the room.

A crack of lightning illuminated the window
as the boy in blue reached the edge of the desk. He then heard a
voice from the speakerphone box attached to a telephone that sat on
the desk in front of him. His eyes glanced the oversized chair that
faced the opposite way, out toward the windows.

“He was arrested a few minutes ago, sir,” a
voice said over the speaker.

“Hold a second,” a voice from the chair said
in a deep, raspy voice. “I have a visitor.”

The chair spun around, and to no surprise to
the boy in blue, the man that sat in the chair was none other than
Phillip Arthur Jones. The famed man who had built a lavish empire
in Elmcrest sat across the desk from the small boy. Jones moved
over, hit the mute button on the phone, and turned his attention to
the lad.

“He failed me,” Jones said, his face
distorted with anger. “That incompetent fool Scott failed me!” he
finished.

“I told you he would. There was no way Scott
would be smart enough to pull off your plan. I told you he was of
no use to you,” the boy in blue said.

“You better not have had the same fate,”
Jones said to the overconfident boy.

“I didn’t,” the boy in blue said.

“You found something?” Jones snarled.

“Yes, sir,” said the boy in blue. He handed
the envelope over to Jones. Jones snatched at it and shot a look
back up to the boy.

“This better be good,” Jones continued as he
opened the envelope and pulled the contents of the package out.

A collection of photographs spilled onto
Jones’s desk. He sifted through the portraits one by one. There
were several shots of various kids of Elmcrest doing various
things. Jones had hired the boy in blue to spy on the other kids of
the town and find out anything that was weird or out of the
ordinary. He was searching for anything that would lead him to the
identity of Kid Combat. Jones was still very much obsessed with
finding his greatest ill. That would never change.

Jones flipped by most of the pictures with no
interest. Picture after picture hit the floor as Jones discarded
them in disgust. Finally, Jones came to the pictures of Roller and
the rows of trees in Maple Forest that concealed the secret
entrance to The Playground. He studied the pictures of Roller
heading right for the trees and then disappearing into them. Jones
brought his hand up to his face and went into deep thought for
several seconds.

“Thank you for these,” Jones finally said.
“You’ve done your job well. You are dismissed.”

“When do I get paid?” asked the boy. He was
not intimidated by Jones one bit. Jones let out a minor laugh.

“Your money will be waiting for you at the
front door. Now, away with you. I have business to attend to,”
Jones replied. The boy in blue didn’t say another word but turned
around and exited out of the room. His services to Jones were done
for now, but this would not be the last time he would see the boy
in blue.

Jones, meanwhile, went back to the phone and
hit the mute button once again. On the other end, his subordinate
was waiting.

“Two!” Jones rang out.

“Yes. I’m here, sir,” a crackly voice came
over the speaker. “What is it?”

“Ready the house, Two,” Jones said. “I’m
coming home.”

“Yes, sir, right away sir,” was the response
he received, and with that, Jones hung up the phone.