Before I can ask what she means, her phone vibrates.
FaceTime Request from Tim
She clicks Accept, and suddenly we’re in the loading dock, looking at the small open door and tunnel that Wheeler, Adleta, and I explored during work crew. Adleta crouches among the boxes on the opposite wall, hidden and waiting for Stranko.
“Wow, I should’ve thought of this,” I say.
“That’s why we’re a great team.”
I gnaw at a fingernail waiting for Stranko to appear on Ellie’s screen. But what if Stranko misunderstands the photo? Or he knows where the tunnel is but doesn’t go? Or shows up with someone else? Not that he would. If Stranko is going to bust the Chaos Club, he’s going to do it by himself. Which is unfortunate for him. If I’m not mistaken, I think the correct term is hubris. Wouldn’t the Asheville High English Department be proud of me?
Adleta’s wedged back in the boxes, so for minutes we can only see the tunnel entrance, but then Stranko’s jeaned ass fills the screen.
“There he is,” Ellie whispers.
Stranko has no idea he’s only a few feet from Adleta. He stands staring at the open door without moving for so long I think maybe the phone’s frozen. Then he takes one slow step forward and another, like an animal warily approaching unexpected food in the forest.
“He’s thinking about it,” Ellie says.
Stranko takes one more step, then bends over for a better look at the tunnel. He’s probably wishing he had a flashlight with him right now. He inches ahead, then kneels in front of the tunnel, his head almost inside.
“Come on,” I say. “Get in there.”
But Stranko doesn’t enter. He just kneels there, listening hard, probably hoping for definitive proof someone’s really back there. It’s just when I think Stranko’s not going to move forward any farther that the screen changes, and we’re looking at the side of Adleta’s leg, and then there’s a blurry rush and the screen fills with light. The picture on the screen jumps so chaotically that I get dizzy. I have no idea what I’m seeing. It’s all just fuzzy, nausea-inducing pandemonium.
Then the image completely disappears.
FaceTime Ended
“What happened?” Puma says.
My instinct is to grab Ellie’s hand and run, but no, we can’t do that. If Stranko has Adleta, there’s no way we’re leaving him behind. I type a text to Malone and Wheeler reading Abort. My finger goes to Send, but right before I tap it, Ellie says, “Oh!”
FaceTime Request from Tim
“Don’t answer it,” I say. “It could be Stranko.”
“But it could be Tim,” she says. “Besides, if it’s Stranko, he’ll know Tim was FaceTiming me. It’d be in the call history.”
She has a point. And if Stranko has Tim, I’m not letting Tim take the fall by himself. So I tell her to go ahead, and Ellie touches the Accept button. There, standing in front of the closed tunnel door, which inexplicably has a large box against it, is Adleta giving us a thumbs-up.
“Awesome,” Ellie says, and returns the gesture.
Tim gives us the one second finger and starts down the hall. There, outside the noise of the loading dock, he says, “Man, that felt good.”
“Nice job, Sluggo!” Ellie says.
“Stranko had no idea what hit him. I shoved him from behind, and it sent him into the tunnel. But I think something broke on the door when I slammed it shut.”
“Will it hold?” I ask.
“I think.”
“Did he see you?”
“Not a chance.”
“Excellent. Get to position two.”
? ? ?
“Should I text da Vinci?” Ellie asks.
“Yeah, but here, use the burner.”
You’re up.
“Do you think the Chaos Club is somewhere nearby, watching?” Ellie says.
“They’re here. They have to be.”
“And if they’re not?”
“Then we’re doing all this for nothing.”
“Well, not nothing. It’s fun. That’s something.”
Across the lawn, Officer Hale remains planted in his chair on stage. Stranko’s been gone for twenty minutes, and I wonder at what point Hale leaves to check on him. No, he’ll probably call or text first. Not that it’d help. No signals can escape the concrete tomb Stranko’s currently buried in.
Across the parking lot, the flashers on Hale’s security car suddenly blaze to life, spinning red-and-blue lights in the dark. Hale jumps to his feet and is quickly down the stage steps.
Then the lights shut off.
“What’s she doing?” I say. “He was coming.”
“She’s messing with him.”
“But that’s not the plan.”
“Relax, Kate knows what she’s doing.”
Hale stares at his car, probably worried he’s hallucinating, then climbs back up the stage steps. But as soon as his butt hits the chair, the light bar explodes again into red-and-blue disco lights. You can practically hear Malone laughing as she does it.