Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles) (11 page)

Before I had a chance to wonder about the odd man, Shelton drew my attention back to the lethal-looking robot, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "If the scans don't recognize someone, that thing comes out to make you crap your drawers."

"Well, it works," I said.

He sniffed the air. "Whew, guess it did."

I poked him with an elbow. "Ha, ha. Laugh it up, buddy."

He did.

The moving pathway took us past a long building, all curves and organic grace, with a silvery sheen visible by the white ambient light glowing from an unseen source around it. The same liquid glass I'd seen in use at the MagicSoft and Orange stores in the Grotto seemed to be in use here, judging from the gentle undulations of the windows. I gawked at the beauty and cutting-edge aesthetics with unabashed admiration.

Shelton held a hand to the left as we came to a fork in the moving pathway, and the surface shifted us left toward a three-story building that looked as though it might belong to an outpost on Mars. "Those are the dorms. My friend left me with a passkey."

Something overhead flashed by so fast, I wondered if I had imagined it. Two more streaks blurred toward the building, followed by a slower-moving flying saucer which stopped to hover for a moment, casting a blinding dome of light on the two of us. I almost expected to be abducted by aliens before the rotating ship resumed course and whirred onward to the building.

"Where can I get one of those?" I asked, certain I was already drooling.

Shelton laughed and pressed his thumb against a biometric reader on the building door. It slid open with a
whoosh
, and we stepped inside. The interior of the dorm looked normal, almost like a hotel, but with no carpeting or front desk. Our room was a small affair with a bunk bed against one wall and two empty desks against the other.

"I call top," I said, grabbing some folded sheets off the bare mattress and spreading them out.

"I don't think so," Shelton replied.

I looked at him over my shoulder. "Want to arm wrestle for it?"

He blew out a breath. "Fine. Keep the stupid top. I didn't really want it anyway." He paced around the room impatiently, stopping at the window, after a minute, and looking at the lights outside. "Man, I'm starving. Let's head to the food court."

My stomach rumbled in agreement. "What do they have to eat here?"

Shelton ran through a list as we made our way back outside. About halfway between the dorms and another group of buildings he identified as the food court, the moving pathway abruptly stopped. I staggered forward a couple feet before regaining my balance.

"What the hell?" Shelton rubbed his boot against the liquid-looking metal. He knelt down and rapped on it. "Step off for a sec," he said, moving onto the grass bordering the pathway. I followed suit. "Alright, now get back on."

I did, but nothing happened.

"Huh." He jumped up and down on it. Cursed. "Well, I guess this thing still breaks down all the time."

"Uh, does the rocket ship ever break down?" I asked, thinking back to the terrifying height of the mountain and imagining the ship malfunctioning before it reached the top.

He shook his head. "Nah, hardly ever."

"Hardly ever?"

"It has a backup system anyway." He started walking toward the distant food court. "C'mon."

I took a step and heard a thud. I paused, looking around, and saw nothing. Took another step. The ground vibrated ever so slightly beneath my feet.

Shelton spun to look at me. "What the hell?" His eyes narrowed. "Okay, now they're going too damned far."

I followed his gaze and spotted the robot from the entrance standing about thirty yards away, the red light in the center of its body glowing. "Hello, Your Majesy," it said in a cockney accent. "I'd like to personally welcome you to our lovely academy." With that, the huge cylindrical guns on either arm spun up, whining like twin jet engines, and spewed forth jagged bolts of death.

Chapter 11

I dove, shoving Shelton out of the way of a burst of white-hot energy, and rolled to my feet several yards away.

"Please do not move," the robot said, cockney accent gone and replaced with a calm, male robotic voice as it continued to blast away. "If you move, I will likely miss."

Shelton rolled across the ground as the death beams charred the grass around him to ash. In one fluid movement, he whipped out his staff rod, squeezed it, and popped it out to full length. He shouted a word, and an incandescent nimbus sprung up in a partial sphere around him. The beams speared into the shield, spreading across it with a dull red glow. Shelton's feet skidded back across the grass from the force of impact.

"I apologize," the robot said in a calm tone. "My weaponry appears to be failing for some reason. I will adjust." With a mechanical whirring sound, a rack of missiles sprang from the back of the robot, swiveled, and aimed at Shelton.

He cursed. "I don't know if I can hold out against that!"

I jumped up and down. "Hey, robot! Over here, you stupid thing."

Its torso swiveled. "It is unkind to call me stupid." With that pronouncement, it fired a red-tipped missile right at me.

I blurred out of its path, and the missile shot past. "How about you stop shooting at us?" I said.

"Justin, watch out," Shelton shouted, pointing wildly behind me.

I turned in time to see the missile arc lazily upward like a brilliant star against the night sky and curve back down toward me. "Oh, crap." Thinking back to all the science fiction movies I'd seen, I immediately knew what to do and how to stop this madness. I waited for the missile to level out about ten feet off the ground and streak toward me. Mustering all my speed, I ran straight at the robot.

Let's see how he likes a taste of his own medicine.
"Prepare to die!" I shouted triumphantly.

About two seconds into my victory charge, I realized a serious flaw in my plan when the robot's twin guns whirred to life and spewed death rays. I shouted in dismay, dodged left, and narrowly missed plowing through a sapling some thoughtful gardener had planted there as lasers splintered the tree and set it on fire. My foot found a muddy spot where the same thoughtful gardener had apparently overwatered the area around the tree. At my high speed, the lost traction sent me sprawling like a greased midget in a mud wrestling match.

As I slid on my back through wet earth, I saw the missile on approach. It looked about the same size as the homemade rocket kit my dad and I had put together and fired off at a park once, although the tip looked sharp enough to spit me like a pig. Afterward, the explosion would spread me like confetti and, no doubt, really tick off the gardener.

Shelton roared a word, and a jagged beam of light speared from his wand even as he held his staff and its glowing shield to the side. His shot missed the missile. I scrambled for purchase, clawing my way back to my feet. But it was too late. An invisible force yanked my feet out from under me, reversing my course as though someone had lassoed my feet and pulled me with a horse. An instant later, the ground where I'd been exploded in a shower of hot mud and grass.

I screamed as the hot blast lifted me off the ground. The force hurled me away from the explosion, tumbling end over end. When I hit the ground, it felt like my spleen ricocheted off my liver and plowed into my stomach.

"Resistance is futile," the robot said. "Please submit to your doom."

"Screw you," Shelton said as a sphere of boiling light the size of his head gathered at the tip of his staff. He swung his staff like a golf club, catapulting the ball of energy toward the metal monstrosity. The robot swiveled, dodging with uncanny grace, though not quite fast enough, and the projectile boiled through the robot's left arm, melting the metal to useless slag.

The robot staggered to the side, reoriented, and fired a missile at Shelton.

By now, I'd regained my feet, watching in horror as my friend looked death in the eye. He brought his shield up, but I knew the explosion would probably fling him like a rag doll and break every bone in his body. I grabbed the tree toppled by the robot's death beams and wrenched it the rest of the way out of the ground. With a grunt of effort, I flung it like a spear. But my aim was off—way off—and it missed the missile by a mile. I saw Shelton running toward a large stone statue. I knew he'd never make it in time.

In an instant, the thought of my fight with Amanda, one of Maximus's evil minions flashed into my head. Something instinctual in me had reacted when Amanda had tossed a pack of explosives at Adam Nosti's feet, allowing me to protect him from the brunt of the killing force. Somewhere, lurking inside me, I knew I had the power. I had only seconds to figure it out.

Letting go of my surroundings, I withdrew into myself. My incubus senses took over my vision, and the glow of magical energy suffused the scene like an impressionist painting. Shelton's aura glowed like a beacon, white flames encircling him. The robot, I noticed, also had a glow around it. My friend's eyes looked to me as he stopped running, planted his staff in the ground, and reinforced his shield. I knew it was a look of hopelessness. Focusing on the air in front of his shield, I imagined it as solid as a wall. Nothing happened.

I clenched my fist and shouted, "Barrier!"

Something blurry appeared in the air, several feet in front of Shelton's own shield. I'd done it! I was about to shout with jubilation when the missile went right through it. It slammed against Shelton's shield.

"No!" I shouted in unison with Shelton.

I waited for the BOOM.

The missile plunked to the ground, fizzling like a dud bottle rocket. Shelton stared at it with confusion for a moment before using the chance to run his butt off toward the large statue of a man surrounded by shrubbery, diving behind it like a frightened squirrel.

"How odd," the robot said. It fired another missile at Shelton's position, swiveled, and fired one at me.

I'd had enough. Fury growled in my chest like a ravenous bear awakening after hibernation. Icy cold tendrils swarmed up my leg, and my knee buckled. I fell to the ground. Throwing up my hand in a last-ditch effort I tried to raise the barrier I'd managed a minute ago. But nothing happened this time.

Pain pierced my skull like ice picks, and I felt the demon shift coming over me. My skin pressed tight against my clothing, and a snarl of rage roared from my throat.

"No!" I shouted, my voice sounding monstrous. "Stop it!" I fought the rage, somehow darting from the missile path on all fours as it whizzed past at terminal velocity. If I manifested to full demon form, I would kill or destroy anything in my path like a mindless beast.

"Perhaps one is not sufficient," I heard the robot say, as though down a long tunnel.

This asshole is really getting on my nerves.

I looked up in time to see every missile in the robot's arsenal launch toward me in a volley of white smoke and orange flame. Its one remaining gun spun to life and spat jagged beams of energy.

With a roar, I rolled to the side, somehow fighting off the mindless beast trying to tear its way free of my sanity. Claws grew from my fingers; my skin turned dark blue. I galloped on all fours beneath a wave of death rays and skidded to the right, avoiding the swarm of missiles. The robot rotated to face me. A dazzling ball of energy flew from Shelton's hiding place and melted the end of the robot's one remaining gun as it spun up to fire again. I heard Shelton roar something at me.

Rage brawled with my remaining shreds of humanity. I focused on Elyssa's image. Remembered her laugh, her smile. She kept me sane. She was the only one who could tame the demon within. And even if she wasn't physically here, she was always with me.

The beast roared and slammed against the bars of its cage, but somehow, I kept the door from flying open.

"You are very uncooperative," the robot said.

I snarled. Leapt at my enemy. On instinct, my head lowered and, with a ringing clang of horn on metal, crashed into the robot. My vision blurred for an instant. Regained focus. The robot lay on the ground, struggling to right itself. I roared. Gripped one of its arms and tore it off. Pounded the metal torso.

"Justin, watch out!" I heard Shelton shout from somewhere to the side.

The rage didn't want to watch out. It wanted to mangle, kill, destroy.

Thankfully, one shred of sanity remained in my addled mind, and I dove away.

"Oh dear," the robot said an instant before the missiles struck where I'd been.

The explosion drove into my back like a giant club, batting me across the lawn. I plowed through shrubs sculpted into the shapes of planets, and my face plowed into the dirt. I struck something immovable, and my rear end flew up and smacked into something hard before dropping back to earth.

I tried to groan, but dirt filled my mouth, my nose. I tried to move, but nothing responded. Hands gripped my shoulder and jerked me to the side. I sputtered as my face came free of the dirt and mud, sucking in a breath and coughing violently.

"Holy dog balls in a hand basket," Shelton said. I felt his hands wiping at my face, and then I could see.

"Can't move," I said, my voice still sounding deep and guttural.

"You've got shrapnel sticking out of your back," Shelton said in a strange tone I'd never heard from him before. He almost sounded…concerned. "Oh, man. Hang on."

My body felt went numb, and I wondered if it meant I was dying. I felt a tug at my back. A rush of pins and needles raced along my skin followed shortly by intense agonizing pain. I screamed.

Shelton squeezed my shoulder. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch, man. So hang in there."

I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut as he jerked more shrapnel from my back. Each piece burned like serrated agony through muscle and flesh. I must have passed out at some point because, when I came to, I saw the ground, a pair of booted feet walking, and what was probably Shelton's butt.

"Gug," I said.

"Taking you back to the dorm," he replied.