Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins, page 28
“I have to get to my dad! There's no time to explain!” She sprinted across the grassy lawn, through the parking lot, and out toward the highway that ran in front of the school. She would have kept on running—right across it—had she not heard Bridgette yell, “You live seven miles from here, ya goon! Are ya gonna run the whole way, or would you like a ride?”
Maggie spun around, confused. Bridgette didn't have a car. Her mom picked her up every day. She glanced questioningly at Bridgette and then noticed Holden, who was smiling and dangling a set of keys in his hand. “Let's go, Blue!”
CHAPTER XXXI
THE RACE FOR NATHAN
Maggie rushed back across the parking lot toward Holden and Bridgette.
“Over here,” Bridgette directed, pointing to one of the only three cars still parked in the lot.
Maggie stopped and her jaw dropped. Bridgette was pointing at an amazingly gorgeous, black convertible sports car. “Whoooa! That's yours?” she gasped, eyeing Holden in disbelief.
Holden shrugged his shoulders and pushed a button on a black key fob that dangled near the top of his conglomeration of keys. There was a quick triple chirp, and the headlights of his one-of-a-kind custom two-seater blinked from left to right and then right to left. Bridgette ran around to the passenger side, pulled open the door and motioned to Maggie to join her; they quickly piled into the seat together.
Holden didn't bother with his door. He jumped over the side of the car and landed squarely in the seat. “Buckle up, groovy dudes,” he yelled as he shifted gears and screeched out of the parking lot.
Bridgette gave Maggie a playful hug. “Welcome back,” she yelled to be heard over the roar of the car. “So, where'd ya go this time?” She winked at Maggie as she struggled to fasten a seat belt over them both.
Maggie sighed. It was such a relief to have someone on Earth who finally believed her. “It's a long story, Bridgey! Right now I have to get to my dad! Darian . . . this completely horrible man . . . has spies coming after him, right now! They can't find him! They just can't!!”
Holden and Bridgette both looked over at Maggie as though she'd said something too impossible to believe.
“Duuuudes!” Holden hollered, stomping down on the gas pedal. “We gotta jam! Which exit?”
“Mansfield!” Bridgette and Maggie replied in unison.
He flew down the freeway at easily ninety miles per hour, masterfully weaving in and out of the few cars on that stretch of highway. As they approached the Mansfield exit, he wrenched the steering wheel to the side, sending them screeching and skidding across two lanes. Maggie grabbed at the dashboard and Bridgette shrieked. Holden just grinned, and nonchalantly maneuvered the car like a pro, skillfully avoiding a slow-moving Freightliner that was coasting along in the right lane. “Where to?” he yelled as they soared down the ramp.
The stunned girls just pointed. A few minutes later—following continued navigational pointing—they pulled up in front of Maggie's house and squealed to a stop. Holden again dismounted his ride by leaping over the door. He ran to the passenger side and let Bridgette and Maggie out, and together, they all ran across the front lawn, jumped on to the porch, and exploded through the front door.
“Dad?” Maggie called out, “Dad!”
She ran into the kitchen, followed by Holden and Bridgette. There, they found Nathan, sitting at the dining table with a sober look on his face. He didn't seem at all surprised that three frantic, winded teenagers had just burst into the room.
“Da . . . dad?” Maggie huffed.
He looked up and slowly answered, “Hey, Smaggs. Ya know that thing that happened to you? With the lights in your room?”
“Dad, what? What is it,” she snapped impatiently.
“I just had the weirdest thing happen.”
Maggie's heart and stomach dropped into her toes. “Uh, Dad? Wh . . . what're you talking about?”
Nathan turned his head toward the back patio door and with a confused frown, explained, “I was hungry and decided to make myself a ham sandwich. These weird little lights . . . they started flying around outside the back door.” He pointed, indicating exactly where the phenomena had taken place. “At first, there were only a few of 'em. But then, a bunch more showed up. You all musta scared 'em though, 'cause when you guys came in they flew off.”
Maggie looked at Holden and then at Bridgette. They both appeared as concerned as she felt.
“Oh, okay . . . um dude,” Holden asked apprehensively, “did the walls shake?” He glanced nervously at Maggie and added, “uh, ya know . . . like hers did?”
“Whattya mean, duuuuude?” Nathan quipped. Maggie couldn't believe that in the midst of all this, he was still trying to be cool. “Whattya mean, did they shake? What in devil's name is going on?”
Holden didn't answer. He was distracted by Maggie, who'd gone over to the cupboards, pulled out a glass, and was standing at the sink filling the glass with tap water. She didn't even try to hide the inhibitor as she dropped it in and swirled it around. “Dad, you've got to drink this . . . now!”
“What? No. I just downed a soda. I'm not really thirsty, Smaggs.”
“This has nothing to do with being thirsty, Dad,” she insisted. “Please, just drink it.”
“Yeah dude, please,” Holden chimed in, “it's kinda a life or death . . . thing!”
Nathan's eyes grew wide.
“Er, at least I think it is. I mean . . . ya know . . . kinda?”
Nathan glanced from Holden to Maggie, who was still holding the glass of water out in front of him, staring at him pleadingly.
“Okay, fine! I'll drink it.”
She handed him the glass, and then glared at Holden. He knew something—something about Lor Mandela and all of the stuff that was going on; that much was obvious. He understood way too much.
“So, Holden,” she tried, “why does it matter . . . I mean, if the walls shook or not?”
The look on Holden’s face confirmed that he was hiding something. “It means that they came through 'em,” he resigned.
Nathan, Maggie and Bridgette all turned and stared at him, gaping.
“How on Earth do you know that?” Bridgette mumbled. “What’s going on?”
Holden ignored her and tried again. “Did they shake, Mr. B? The walls?”
Nathan grimaced. “Uh, no. I don't think so.”
His answer sent a flood of relief coursing through Maggie, but it only lasted for a moment.
Whooosh…whoooooosh!
This time, the sound came so loudly that no one within a quarter mile could've missed it.
“No! No! Not now!” Maggie shouted in panic—clapping her hands over her ears in an effort to shut out the deafening noise.
Nathan panicked too. “Maggie, wait!” He jumped up from his chair and grabbed her by the arm. “Leave her alone! You can't have her,” he yelled frantically toward the ceiling.
“What is that?” Bridgette shrieked.
The whooshing became so thunderous that the entire house was shaking.
“Dude! Get away! Don’t touch her!” Holden bellowed at Nathan, “Blue! Don’t let him touch you!”
Maggie yanked backwards, freeing herself from her father, who immediately reached out to grab her again. “No! Dad, don’t!” She jerked back and ran around the kitchen table to put more space between them.
Regardless of what Holden or Maggie was saying Nathan was not going to let his daughter be abducted again—not without one heck of a fight! He started around the table after her, arms outstretched.
Maggie grabbed a hold of a chair and slid it between them, then turned and sprinted toward the back door, reaching out for the handle. As if it had been choreographed, both Nathan and Holden simultaneously dove through the air towards her. They were mid-lunge, when a brilliant flash of blue light sent a powerful shockwave rippling through the room, momentarily blinding everyone.
Bridgette let out an earsplitting scream.
Holden smacked right into Maggie, knocking her forcefully to the ground.
Maggie blinked and squinted, straining to focus in on where she'd been taken, but her eyes weren’t adjusting to the light very quickly. Through the twinkling flashes in front of her eyes, she saw a hand move toward her to help her up. She grabbed the hand and tried to make out who it belonged to.
“Holden?” she muttered. Now she understood why he'd yelled for her dad not to touch her. Apparently, whoever was in contact with her when she was taken would be taken as well.
“Where are we?”
As Holden's face became clearer, an even more confused look spread across it. “Uh, we're um . . . we're still in your kitchen, Blue.”
Maggie jumped up and frantically scanned the room. Her stomach bottomed out. She stared wide-eyed from Holden to Bridgette, back to Holden and then back to Bridgette. “Where is he? Where is he?” she cried as—much to her horror—she realized that this time, it was her dad who was gone.
CHAPTER XXXII
NATHAN’S DISCOVERY
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Nathan had thrown himself across the kitchen with such momentum, that when he materialized, he was still hurling—arms and legs flailing—through the air. He bulleted right through the top of a large shrub, hit the muddy ground with both feet, flipped forward, landed with a thud on his back, and then rolled sideways down a small hill. “Goo . . . hoo . . . hood . . . night!” He exclaimed when he finally came to a stop.
Taking a deep breath to restore the air that had been knocked out of him, he pulled himself to his feet, and brushed at the sticky, dark mud that was now covering his blue jeans. “Maggie,” he called out. “Smaggs? Where the devil are you?” He scanned the area around him, and realized that he'd not just simply tossed himself out into the backyard. “And, uh . . . wh . . . where the devil am I?”
He stared off in a daze for several seconds. “How on Earth,” he mumbled. Suddenly his eyes widened and a knowing smile spread across his face. “Wait a second,” he exclaimed, “maybe if I jump again . . . .”
He closed his eyes tightly, and flung himself into the air, hoping to undo what had just been done. Unfortunately, all he succeeded in “undoing” was his vertical orientation. He hit the ground and tumbled down another grassy hill. When he came to a stop, he was face-down, and even more covered in mud and grass stains. He pulled himself up to sitting, and looked blankly out at the dew-covered meadows and lush green foothills that stretched before him as far as he could see.
“This is definitely not Glenhill,” he muttered, as a somewhat frightening realization took hold of his senses. He’d left Earth—he didn’t know how or why—and he had no idea how to get back again.
“Sma . . . aggs,” he called out shakily, but there was no reply. Maggie was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was no one at all to be seen. He was alone. He got back up to his feet, and took a deep breath. Again, he browsed the scenery around him.
Despite being less than thrilled with this present unfamiliar locale, he had to admit the view was quite beautiful. The bottom rays of the sun were just beginning to descend behind the emerald hills, and the sky was slowly changing from soft pink to brilliant orange.
“Come on, Smaggs, where're ya at?” He started back up the hill, ascending the gentle slopes with little effort. As he reached the top and looked down the other side, his legs became wobbly and he very nearly collapsed.
Before him sprawled a massive, unbelievably beautiful, glowing city, the likes of which he'd never, ever seen. Its shimmering buildings and flowery gardens glistened in the soft light of the setting sun. The city was surrounded on two sides—the one where he stood and the one to his right—by lush, deep green, rolling hills. To his left huge trees reached skyward.
The hills were dotted with quaint structures that reminded him of French Chateaus, but with one very distinct difference. They weren't made of brick, or stone, or wood, like the houses he was used to. They seemed to be constructed of a thick, pearly, almost liquid-looking substance, colored in shades of white, tan, silver, and a pale, grayish-blue. Several people were out and about near the houses, visiting, working in the yards, reading, tending to animals and performing a myriad of other tasks. Children happily played together in large groups on the hillsides. Hmmm, he thought to himself, they don’t look like aliens.
At the base of the hills, a wide, winding river separated the quaint villages from hundreds and hundreds of much taller and larger edifices—each made of the same pearly material as the smaller houses, but in varying shades of grey—surrounded by their own lavish, perfectly manicured gardens. The mass of tall, stately buildings stretched for miles toward a hazy mountain in the far-off distance that was glowing golden from the reflection of the sunset on its face. The whole scene looked like an ethereal, living, moving, watercolor painting.
“Tabbit, look! There he is!” Suddenly, a woman's voice sounded from somewhere below, breaking Nathan away from the mesmerizing view.
A red-haired young woman and a wild-looking child with crazy white hair were running up the hill toward him. His first instinct was to turn and run away, and he was about to do just that, when he heard the woman again.
“Mr. Baker! Wait! We're here to help!”
He stopped and turned to face them. “Help,” he quizzed, “Who are . . . ?” Upon seeing the young woman up close, he was instantly rendered speechless. She was stunning—with her big green eyes, flowing auburn hair and pale, slightly freckled skin—and arguably the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. “Um, hi,” he fumbled. “Do . . . do I know you?”
The young lady squinted at him for a few seconds. “Uh . . . no. I'm afraid not.” Her tone implied a hint of disappointment. “Your daughter, Maggie . . . she told me about you, that’s all.” She looked cautiously around and then grabbed him by the arm. “Now, come on. We have to get you out of here.”
“Hold it just a doggone minute,” he protested. “Who are you, and exactly where are you taking me?”
Just then, he felt a soft tugging on the leg of his jeans. He looked down at the little wild-haired girl, and stumbled backwards in shock. “You . . . you're . . . wha . . . wait . . . no . . . there's no way . . . how . . . ?” He ran his hand across his forehead. “You’re that thing Paul gave Maggie! The one that was stolen! O . . . only, you’re alive!” he whispered.
Tabbit looked up at him with a crazy grin on her face. “You . . . you're . . . wha . . . wait . . . no . . . there's no way . . . how . . . ? You’re that thing Paul gave Maggie! The one that was stolen! O . . . only, you’re alive,” she mimicked. “I is not a thing, sir. Tabbit's the name, sir. Yeses . . . very much alive, sir!” She rolled up and down on her little brown, bare toes, beaming happily.
“Uh, pleased to meet you?” he replied, eyeing Tabbit like she was nuts.
The woman cleared her throat. “Um, we really should be going,” she insisted. “We can make small talk after we get to the palace.” She started down the hill, tugging Nathan along by the arm.
“Palace? What palace?” Nathan gasped. “Listen, uh . . . ?”
“Kahlie.”
“Okay, good . . . Kahlie. I'm not goin' anywhere until you tell me what in the devil's goin' on!” He yanked his arm out of her hand and stopped walking.
Kahlie froze in her tracks and glared at him, annoyed.
“Fine, Mr. Baker,” she snapped. “Here is what's going on! I am trying to save your life, and you are making it very difficult. That is what is going on, all right? Now let’s go!” She started off down the hill with Tabbit and Nathan in pursuit.
“Save my life? Sheesh! First Maggie and that California beach bum . . . now you? Why in blazes does everyone seem to think my life's in danger?” Nathan panted as he rushed up behind Kahlie.
“Because it is,” she answered matter-of-factly.
Nathan glanced down at Tabbit who was bouncing along beside him, grinning up at him, and nodding. “Because it is. Yesses, big danger . . . Darian very bads!”
He shook his head and continued to follow Kahlie, who was moving at a fairly fast clip. He increased his stride to a sort of jog-walk to keep up.
After a few seconds, they reached the bottom of the hill, and started toward the river. Directly in front of them, a large, flat rock spanned from one bank to the other, creating a solid natural bridge.
As they approached the bridge, a small, lime green, disc-shaped object with two long crystals jutting from its top came soaring past, barely missing Kahlie and falling to the ground very close to the river's edge.
“Obeeo!” Tabbit squealed delightedly, dashing over to where the object had landed.
“Tabbit,” Kahlie scolded, “what are you doing?”
She stopped in her tracks, and looked at Kahlie as though she was mournfully ashamed of herself.
Just then, three teenage kids—two boys and a girl—raced out from behind one of the little chateau houses, yelling loudly and laughing. “Obeeo! Obeeo!” they roared as they pursued the crystalline disc. They ran toward it, barely noticing that others were present.
All at once, the girl froze in place. It didn't take long for the boys to realize she wasn't with them and they stopped running as well. The girl was standing completely still, eyes wide, and gaping at Nathan. One of the boys gasped, and rushed back to her side. He grabbed her hand and yanked it downward. At once, all three of the teenagers dropped to their knees and bowed.
Kahlie cringed. “Oh, um, all right. Thank you,” she groaned, grabbing Nathan by the arm and pulling him toward the bridge. “You have honored the house of Borloc. Please, go in peace. Return to your activities.” She shook her head in frustration and told Tabbit to give them back their obeeo.
“What the blazes?” Nathan muttered, watching as the three stunned kids rose back to their feet, their eyes fixed on him. Even when Tabbit handed the obeeo back to the taller of the boys, he didn't as much as blink.
Kahlie was agitated. “How could you, Tabbit? We weren't to be seen, remember?” She motioned for Nathan to cross the bridge in front of her.
