The cold ground hit me. Hard. Somehow I was outside again, lying on wet cobblestone. A blast of fishy air filled my lungs, and I gagged back waves of nausea as I pushed myself off the ground in the filthy alley to find a pale, wiry man clutching Rose tightly, his arm around her mouth.
He took a slow step back, then another. He couldn’t carry her and run away. I could catch him. With a gasp, I scrambled to my feet and charged. He dove out of the way, to his left, straight into the wall, into an opening that wasn’t there a moment ago and wasn’t there when I reached it a second later. I grasped and scratched and pounded and screamed at the brick wall, at the shadows, at nothing. The alley was completely empty and silent.
Gasping back sobs of frustration and pain, I hurried toward a streetlight in a daze. Where was I? And where in God’s name was Rose? The passage brought me to the main street, where glass shards, dirt, and blood littered the ground and Dr. Beck’s house loomed over me.
As I made my way back to the building’s entrance, Dr. Beck emerged and chuckled. “There you are. I was worried we wouldn’t get the chance to speak.”
“Where is she?” I screamed.
“Your sister? Why, she’s gone. My associate—no doubt you noticed, he’s very gifted—why, he has probably snapped her clean out of London by now. Let’s not worry about that. What’s more important is that you listen to me—”
Suddenly, a loud screech echoed down the street. I turned to see Mr. Braddock and wasn’t sure my eyesight was working so well. His fight with Claude had continued to where the cobblestones met the long wooden bridge over the river, and Mr. Braddock was crouched low to the ground, slowly circling his enemy and waiting for a chance to strike. But Claude rendered that nearly impossible, wielding a gas lamppost as a normal man might wield a mace. Upon Mr. Braddock’s every advance, the giant swung his massive weapon with unexpected quickness, always sending Mr. Braddock back in retreat.
I rushed over, not knowing what to do, desperately trying to form a plan. The streets were empty—no one to call. Fear for the obnoxious man clouded my head. Could Mr. Braddock’s power really help him defeat a man strong enough to rip a lamppost from the ground? All it would take is one small mistake, and Claude could kill him with a single blow.
He needed help.
My sights sharpened on a broken stone in a nearby pile of debris. I darted for it, lifted the weight, and hurled it with miraculous accuracy straight at Claude. It soared through the air, thickly thumped his head, and dropped to the ground. Claude simply looked over his shoulder at me and scratched his head, then turned back to Mr. Braddock.
We needed to run.
“I keep trying to explain the matter, and you keep acting very rudely,” Dr. Beck’s voice crept in from behind me.
My dizziness immediately turned into a sharp-edged alertness, and I spun around with a desperate attack that he stopped without hesitation, lightly pushing me away. “What is wrong with you?” I screamed. “What are you doing with her?”
“Your sister is now part of my research that will change the world. There’s something in her, on a cellular level, that accelerates and heightens the human body’s regenerative properties.”
The grunts, the scuffling, the thunderous crashes behind me continually distracted me from the madman’s quiet voice. I feared each attack would be the last, but each one also meant Mr. Braddock was still on his feet.
“It’s a result of a jump in evolution . . . a process called saltation—”
“I know what it is!” I growled, flinching as another attack seemed to shake the street. But Mr. Braddock apparently took that as his cue. Like a bull, he charged straight at Claude, entering the dangerous range of his weapon, daring him to attack again and end the fight.
“Oh, he told you? Splendid. Then you understand the amazing possibilities of isolating this ability of hers. Think of the advances. Any disease curable, any injury reparable.”
Swinging low, Claude and his lamppost tore through the bridge’s wooden planks, just missing Mr. Braddock, who jumped over the first slash and slid under the hasty second with the help of the slick cobblestone street.
“If you’re so altruistic,” I snarled, “why did you kidnap her? She would have gladly helped you.”
Mr. Braddock landed right at Claude’s feet, vulnerable, and the giant seized the chance, stomping his boot straight down.
“I cannot be restricted in my experiments,” Dr. Beck sighed.
With a quick roll, Mr. Braddock barely escaped the attack, while Claude found his foot lodged deep in the stone rubble.
“I cannot deal with hesitation, guilt, or caution if I am investigating something so important.”
Mr. Braddock leaped to his feet and tried to seize the giant from behind, but Claude, desperate to escape, took a leap forward himself—his foot tearing apart the road—and dodged the grab.
“I must have the freedom to do whatever my research requires.”