“There’s an exit in the basement,” Basia said.
“Use that,” Nemo said. “On second thought, maybe stay up here until you know it’s safe. Okay?”
Basia nodded. She was already taking out her cell phone and dialing someone.
“Come on,” Nemo said to Max as she left the bedroom.
“Shouldn’t we tell her exactly what’s going on?” Max said. “You probably scared her to death.”
“She should be scared,” Nemo said. “And we warned her.”
Outside the room, she took hold of the cleaning cart and wheeled it in front of them.
“What do we need that for?” Max asked.
“You ever heard of the Trojan horse?” Nemo said.
“Sure,” said Max. “Supposedly, a million years ago the Greeks tricked somebody into letting them into their city by building a giant wooden horse and hiding soldiers inside of it. The people thought it was a gift, brought it into the city and, bam, soldiers everywhere.”
“It wasn’t a million years ago, and the city was Troy, but yes, that’s basically it,” Nemo said.
“What does a wooden horse have to do with this cart?” said Max.
“This cart is a lot like a wooden horse,” said Nemo as she stopped at the elevators and pressed a button.
“Except it’s not wooden and it’s not a horse,” Max pointed out.
Nemo lifted the top of the cart, which held things like little bottles of shampoo and tiny wrapped soaps. Underneath was an area partially filled with wadded-up sheets and towels. There was more than enough room for two people to hide inside.
The elevator came and they got in.
“Okay, but how are we going to get Magdalena, or whoever is in there, to bring the cart inside?”
By the time the doors opened on the seventy-first floor, Nemo had thought of an idea. She just needed a little bit of good luck to make it work.
She got it when she saw some dishes sitting on the floor outside of a room. She pushed the cart over and swept the toiletries from the top of it onto the floor.
“Get in,” she said to Max.
“What about you?” Max said.
“Someone has to push this thing,” Nemo explained. “I’m going to take it to the door of 7192 and tell them room service is there.”
“What if they didn’t order any room service?” Max argued. “I mean, this is kind of a weird time to be doing that, what with those monsters running around. I think they have bigger things to worry about than scarfing down some burgers and fries.”
“Have you got a better idea?” Nemo asked.
Max thought for a moment. “No.”
“Then get in.”
Max did. Nemo shut the top and arranged some dishes over it. They had metal cloches on them, so it wouldn’t be immediately obvious that there was no food. And the room’s occupants had left enough food on the plates that they at least smelled like a meal.
“If they open the door, I’m ramming this cart into whoever is standing there,” Nemo told Max as she wheeled him down the hall. “And if they tell me to leave it, you wait until they bring it inside. Then jump out and—”
“And what?” Max said.
Nemo thought. “And keep them busy until I can get in there and help you,” Nemo finished.
“This is the worst plan you have ever had,” Max said as Nemo turned a corner and headed for the part of the hall where room 7192 was. “You’re going to get us killed.”
Nemo ignored him, mostly because she was afraid he was right. But she was also right—it was the only chance they had to get into that room and see if Sam was in there.
She reached the door of 7192 and hesitated a moment. Then she knocked. A moment later a girl’s voice said, “Who is it?” It wasn’t Magdalena.
“Room service,” Nemo said, keeping her voice steady.
There was a pause. “Did one of you idiots order room service?”
Nemo heard several male voices answer her, all of them denying ordering anything. Nemo thought quickly. “It’s complimentary pizza,” she said.
It was a ridiculous ploy, and she was tempted to turn the cart around and get out of there before either a stranger opened the door and she had to make up something about having the wrong room or one of her enemies answered the door and she and Max would be in for the fight of their lives.
There was more conversation from behind the door. Then it swung open. Freakshow looked out at Nemo. Behind her, Nemo caught glimpses of Ghost and Spike.
It took Freakshow a few seconds to recognize Nemo. “What the—”
Nemo shoved the cart into the girl, using her telekinesis to give it extra momentum. Freakshow flew backwards, knocking into Spike. They fell to the ground, and Nemo wheeled the cart into the room and slammed the door behind her.
She flung up the top of the cart, sending dishes flying.
“Now!” she shouted.
CHAPTER SIX
SIX
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
SIX COULDN’T SEE THE THING THAT HAD WRAPPED its tentacles around her and was squeezing the life from her, but she fought against it with everything she had. She was somewhere dark, and cold, and every cell in her body screamed out in torment. It was as if she was on fire from the inside, like some terrible poison had suffused her veins and was pumping through her with every beat of her heart. She tried to breathe, but no air entered her lungs.
“Fight it!”
She heard the voice calling to her through the dark. It was familiar, but the pain racking her head made it impossible to think. She could only feel.
“Fight, Six!”
Whatever monster was trying to kill her redoubled its efforts. Only now she realized that it wasn’t anything outside her body. It was inside, and it was trying to claw its way out. It wanted to be free of her. But it also wanted to take her life with it, leaving her an empty shell.
She wasn’t going to let that happen. Whatever it was attempting to kill her, it was going to have to try harder than that. Even if she couldn’t see it or touch it, even if she had no idea what it was, she was going to be victorious.
“Come on.” The familiar voice sounded again in her ear. She felt something touch her arm. The prick of metal. Something thick and syrupy flooded her veins.
Then it was as if an electrical connection had been made. Somewhere in her brain, sparks fired. She felt the thing that was trying to control her pull away. It was afraid. Running. But there was nowhere for it to go. More connections formed. More sparks flew. It was as if a switch had been flipped and the machinery of her mind had come back to life.
Lights flickered behind her eyes. The tentacles binding her slid away. She could breathe. Then she felt the familiar sensation of her Legacy returning, suffusing her with power like warmth spreading throughout her body. She focused her energy, picturing it as a ball of swirling light the color of flames. Then she sent it throughout her body, chasing the darkness and filling her with dazzling brilliance.
She opened her eyes.
She was lying on the floor. Nine was kneeling beside her. He held a syringe in his hand, and he was looking down at her with an expression of concern that quickly turned to a grin of triumph.
“All right, then,” he said. “I guess we can tell the doc her antiserum works.”