The Heated Horde
“Brian, dude! What’s this ginormous power plant gotta do with the frozen adults again?” snapped Ri.
The Rosenberg power plant towered over him and Brian. Brian’s brilliant brain was focused on fiddling with his makeshift device. “I dunno, man,” he mumbled. “Trying to figure it out here.”
Great. He’s got no clue, thought Ri. Then again, it wasn’t like he had a better idea of how to undo the terrible mess they were in.
Brian had meddled with forces beyond his understanding. The result? Every adult in the town of Desert Lime was frozen in place within a Time Stop. His risky experiments with a stolen exotic fish from the Heart of Time universe had unleashed an unknown power. A new situation that unnerved Ri and crawled along his skin with a creeping uncertainty. More problems. More obstacles.
Brian held up his makeshift device and pointed it toward the power plant—a super-sized monstrosity built thirty years ago. A forgotten time. Greedy developers had invested in their little sleepy town, convinced it would explode into a thriving metropolis. The new Las Vegas! Wild claims they had announced with ridiculous certainty. A bunch of outside investors had poured in their money with greedy fervor. Defying all logic, they had built a nuclear power plant to serve half a million people. The old-school neighborhood constantly complained about the eyesore. Few people even understood how it worked. The townsfolk imagined they were all gonna blow up, mushroom-cloud style.
Yeah. Right, thought Ri. Whatever. We live in a universe where aliens can crush us in the blink of an eye. But no, the morons here worry about this dumb old power plant.
A row of three-story-high metal cylinders towered above Ri and Brian. Red and white painted cylinders spiked into the sky like missiles. The massive structure spread out wide, surrounded by a tall fence laced on top with barbed wire. A concrete fortress of power and merciless monstrosity. A dilapidated mess of metal sprawled next to it. An old, abandoned carnival with scattered, broken equipment. Old Ferris wheels, carousels, and collapsing booths stood among piles of decayed trash ignored for decades. The pathetic yellow tape blocking off the whole area was cracked from the harsh desert sun. Another failed human undertaking and echoes from a hopeful past. The town filled with an ugly only humans could devise.
On a normal day, the loud humming from the Rosenberg power plant descended all the way down to the park. But not now, only moments before sunset. Ri stood there twiddling his thumbs while Brian analyzed the dangerous complex with unclear contemplation. It’s obvious Brian’s not used to screwing up like this. Putting our parents into a Time Stop has also stopped his brilliant brain from working right.
Poised next to the power plant’s perimeter stood a motionless security guard. He held a walkie-talkie near his mouth. A wad of faded green chewing gum was stuck to his teeth. Ri had already checked every stationary adult for signs of movement along the way, yet his urge to inspect again pulled him in once more. He smacked the guard’s arm hard with the side of his fist. It felt like hitting a statue. The guard swayed a bit as if he was about to topple but didn’t stir. No change. Still frozen. I keep hoping this nightmare will end on its own.
Stepping up to the fence, Ri grabbed the laced metal with his fingers. He pulled on the links and rattled them hard. “Dude. Whatcha got? We’re standing here looking like a couple of idiots. And I swear this frozen guard is staring at us.”
“Hang on. Hang on.” Brian lifted his hand meter—wrapped with duct tape, a wire hanger, and copious amounts of foil. He had superglued a digital timer to the surface. It flashed a few weak lights and crackled out some random chirping sounds. Ri suppressed his incredulous expression but failed to check his judgmental thoughts. Dude. Brian. Out of all your inventions, this has gotta be the goofiest one.
“The readings are jumping around.” Brian’s big eyes peered through his Star Wars glasses—laser-focused. “I tracked it here. Now, the signal is distorted…” He trailed off, only half paying attention to anything else.
Ri’s control over his brimming emotions faltered. He jammed his clenched fists into his front jeans pockets. His sheer stubbornness fought down the rise of his simmering temper. I know Brian’s trying to fix his bungling. And he’s saved me a bunch of times before during our adventures. But standing there, in a town filled with angry kids and frozen parents, Ri only wanted one thing. We gotta get this fixed! I’ve already got too much on my plate. More problems. More obstacles. I gotta do something right and not fail again.
His therapist, Esther Evans, claimed there was no such thing as failure. Only learning opportunities to find ways not to do things. Win or learn.
Sure. Whatever, Esther. What on this wretched scorched Earth am I supposed to learn from this utter nonsense? Ri kicked the side of a rusty metal trashcan full of rotted junk. “Come on, dude, we need an A-plus plan. What’d you find?”
Brian shoved his glasses hard up the bridge of his nose. That meant he was full-on ignoring Ri. The handheld device sprang to life. Lights and beeps flashed at level frenetic crazy. Brian leaped forward, half waddling, half trotting. His device yanked him forward, and he landed in the fence. He pushed himself away and turned left and then right. Jumping forward again, he jogged along the fence perimeter. Following along, Ri kept pace with a slow jog behind Brian’s fast shuffle.
Brian wheezed and coughed. He stopped short at a jagged opening torn through the fence. When he squeezed through the rip, Ri followed. They dodged in between all sorts of random equipment. Cement and metal structures labeled with sun-faded warning signs.
Brian skidded to a stop. He lifted the device upward. For a split second, Ri caught light flickering from his peripheral. One of the electrical poles attached to the wires spiraling through town exploded. A tremendous spark followed by a fireworks display. It lasted only a moment, then fell silent.
Holding the device high, Brian banged the side with his left palm. Then he dropped it along with his shoulders.
Resting his hand on Brian’s shoulder, Ri squeezed it with gentle encouragement. “What? What is it? What’d you find?”
Brian talked sideways, not at Ri, not at anyone. “Oh, man. I lost it. Was so close. It’s something. It’s something. It…it…it’s alive.” He was falling back on his bad habit of not communicating enough information.
Ri gritted his teeth and dug deep inside for a bit of kindness. Kindness—a quality failing to land on his concise list of strong suits. “Look. Dude. You’ve told me nothing! We tracked the anomaly here. Now, you’re saying the anomaly is alive? What on evil earth does that even mean?”
As Brian stared at his device, the edge of his lips curled down into a deep pout. He shrugged. A disturbing expression gripped him, like two lobster claws were squeezing his cheeks. “I don’t know. I don’t know! This entire situation is twisting me up. I can’t believe I froze my parents!”
Ri recognized the sound of despair in Brian’s voice. He needed a pep talk. But Ri had nothing left in his emotional tank to encourage his insecure friend. The sun dripped down below the horizon. Without power, without the town running, it would get super dark that night. Their town experienced power outages now and again during the monsoon season. The storms would rip the old, dilapidated telephone poles out of the ground. They would go without power for several days—but usually, they had adults around to help. He wasn’t a survivalist. He wasn’t sure any of the kids were in his town, either. Where are we gonna get water? Food? Cool air?
In the last few weeks, Ri had gained considerable experience saving universes. But living basic? I’ve got no clue how to do that. I’m no boy scout. I don’t even know how to make a fire. “Look. Dude. Best bro. I know you’re stressed. But you can’t worry about the whys and hows of who did what. Sure, you dropped the ball on this one. We all do at times. Now is the time to stay focused on our task. The task is figuring out how to undo the Time Stop. As much as our parents annoy us to death, we need them to get our town running again. After tonight, none of the food in our fridge is gonna be good. Our dinner, nothing but canned lima beans.”
Brian made a gagging face with his mouth and tongue.
“Exactly!” Ri grinned, knowing he was getting through to him. “Lima beans, canned asparagus, canned peas. What moron thought that was a clever idea? I’d rather scrape moss scum off a pond and suck on that. The point is, giving into despair won’t help us. We need that geeky, brilliant science brain of yours to figure out what’s going on. So. Talk about it. Tell me. What’re you tracking? What’s the anomaly?”
Furrowing his brow, Brian narrowed his eyes and lifted his head. He peered down his nose from underneath his glasses. “It’s electric. That’s for sure. Might be different from our electricity. It oscillates at a similar but different frequency. Not enough to disrupt the flow of normal electricity, but slight enough to be different. So, I can track it. It seems to be searching for something. It’s…it’s…it’s intelligent.”
While holding his chin, Ri offered an approving nod. For a change, he understood Brian’s techy terms. “Okay. Okay. So, sort of an electric alien. Like Lucky at the reservoir?”
“Not quite. That was a water-based frequency. This is pure electric, no H2O molecules.”
“Lucky has fooled us before. Remember, he’s a shape-shifter and takes on many different forms.”
Brian slowly shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. Why would he bother us? He killed…uh, took your brother. And I’ve tracked his unique signature before—this shows a complete difference.”
Ri ignored Brian’s slipup. He had accepted the fact that his twin brother was once again missing. The alien mastermind Lucky had won the battle over his brother Rob using manipulation and shape-shifting tactics. Although it was unclear what had happened at the waterfall vortex, he wasn’t convinced Lucky had killed Rob. Lucky’s an opportunist. And Rob’s got more potential in his pinky finger than most people have in their lifetime. Rob’s status or whereabouts aren’t important right now, though. He can take care of himself. All that matters is reversing this infernal Time Stop.
Forcing himself to stay calm, Ri shoved both his hands into his pockets. He rotated around and kicked the little rocks at the edge of the cement foundation. “Okay. Not Lucky. Another alien. What else do you know?”
“That’s it. I’m stuck. It disappeared. It jumped through the electric wires and could be anywhere in town. My meter’s range is too short. It moved slower when I followed it here. No. I have no idea. It could have needed the power plant for a turbo boost or something. I’m guessing, I’m guessing.”
With a quick nod, Ri made up his mind. “Okay. Let’s go. Let’s go back to my place and regroup. The walk will help us clear our heads and give us new ideas.”
He took the lead, following their footsteps in the dust back toward the rip in the fence. Brian followed, dragging his feet, his shoulders slumped.
The situation weighed Ri down. He had mental exhaustion from working in the hot sun and then dealing with the frozen adults. I’ve got no energy left to massage Brian’s ego. But he’s still our best bet at getting out of this godforsaken mess. Even if it was his fault we’re in this situation in the first place.
They reached the fence tear and squeezed through. A boisterous commotion grabbed their attention. Ri stopped short and moved a protective hand in front of Brian’s torso. The designers had built the power plant on a curve of the small rolling hills attached to the park. The wind whistled through the creaking metal of the old carnival nearby. The boys took a slow step over the bend.
A humongous horde of kids forming an angry mob appeared over the horizon. The crowd of kids held baseball bats, tennis rackets, and vacuum cleaner tubes. They chanted, “Rieden Reece! Rieden Reece! Rieden Reece!”
Ri swallowed hard.