In the Arms of the Angel, 2/?
Title: In the Arms of the Angel, chapter one
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?
Rating: T/PG-13
Word Count: 3,623
Main Characters: Fictional Rockapella (Sean, Scott, Elliott, Barry)
Supporting Characters: Almost all of V.I.L.E.
Summary: The guys' arrival instantly turns dangerous ... and shocking.
Will be posted to 10_hurt_comfort when complete.
Chapter One
He was running forward through the darkness, desperate as he took a flying leap into the air.
"El! Elliott, don't go! You can't leave . . . not like this!"
His hand closed around something soft, but then it was out of his reach again. He stumbled back to the ground, clutching only a handful of white feathers. He trembled, staring at the downy objects in disbelief.
As a gentle breeze blew past, the feathers were carried out of his hand and into every direction around him.
He was left with nothing.
"Scott! Scott, hey."
He started awake at his friend's gentle touch and concerned words. Elliott was leaning over him, worry in his eyes. Seeing that Scott was awake, Elliott started to relax.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You were calling for me. . . ."
Scott groaned, sitting upright in the airplane seat. He really had fallen asleep. And judging from the view out the window, it looked like they had arrived at the St. George Municipal Airport at the southern end of Utah. Sean and Barry were already outside, speaking with a Native American---probably Jim Pond, their guide.
"Have we been here long?" he mumbled.
Elliott shook his head. "Maybe ten, fifteen minutes," he said. "You didn't look like you'd had much sleep last night, so when you dozed off the rest of us decided to let you sleep as long as you could." He leaned against the back of his seat, propping himself up with an elbow.
Scott rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah . . . I didn't sleep much," he admitted.
"Bad dreams?" Elliott's face and voice were sympathetic.
Scott nodded. At last he looked up at the older man, his closest friend of eight years. El would not think he was crazy, especially after the kinds of things they had been going through. And he had started to fear that he was not crazy, either. Considering the dream's implications, he half-wished he was.
". . . It's always the same dream," he said at last. "Basically, that is. . . . I see something more each time."
Elliott frowned. "How many times have you had it?" he wanted to know.
"Every time I've fallen asleep for the past week," Scott said. He swallowed. "You're leaving, for some reason. And . . . you must be going into the sky, because I'm always looking up. This time I ran forward and leaped, trying to grab you. Instead I . . . I grabbed a bunch of white feathers."
Elliott was stunned. "That's weird," he said. He sat up straight, laying his hands on Scott's shoulders. "I'll never leave of my own free will," he said. "You know that, right?"
Scott nodded. "Yeah. Of course." He reached up, gripping Elliott's right wrist. "El . . . I don't know . . . I've never been one to believe in dreams, but what if it's some kind of warning about danger you might be in?" He sighed, looking away. "I know that sounds crazy, but when it keeps repeating, and getting bigger, I don't know what to think."
Elliott blinked. He had not thought of that. "I don't know either," he admitted. "I guess anything is possible."
Scott sighed. "This whole case sounds crazy, for that matter," he said.
A wry smirk graced Elliott's features. "You're telling me," he said. "I wish we could just write off the thing with this pendant as nothing, but after some of our adventures, I don't think we could ever do that."
Scott gave a weary, frustrated outtake of breath. "Well, I guess we'd better get out there," he said with a wry smirk of his own. "It'll probably look rude if we don't come right away."
He pushed himself out of the seat. Elliott followed suit, taking up his backpack and stepping into the aisle to allow Scott to walk by. But as the blond grabbed some of his belongings out of the overhead compartment, he hesitated.
". . . El?"
The brunet looked over in surprise. "Yeah?"
Scott pushed his hat back on his head as he closed the compartment. "There was something else," he admitted. "You and I . . . we were alone. When you left . . . there was just me." He swung his backpack over his shoulder. "I don't know where Sean and Barry were, either."
Elliott frowned. "We'll stay alert for anything that might be part of what the dream was talking about," he said.
Scott nodded, gratitude for his understanding friend welling in his heart.
"Thanks, El," he said, his voice quiet as he headed for the door.
Elliott followed.
****
Sean, Barry, and Jim all looked up as Scott and Elliott came down the ramp.
"Well, hello, Rip Van Winkle," Sean grinned. "We have your luggage here." He gestured to several suitcases that were gathered around their feet.
"Hi to you too, Mr. Maybe I'll Sleep On The Flight," Scott returned, trying to resist the urge to yawn. But then he was distracted by the view, the yawn catching in his throat. Red rocks and cliffs and desert stretched as far as he could see. The airport itself seemed to have been carved out of the mountains. A plateau rose to one side, as if protecting the airfield.
"Fascinating, isn't it," Sean commented.
Elliott was likewise gawking. "Yeah, no kidding," he said. Even on their travels, they had never ended up in this part of the world before. He would like to look around more if they were not on a case.
Jim looked amused. "The great American Southwest," he said. "By the way, I'm Jim Pond. And I know your names." He looked from one to the other. "But which one of you is Scott and which one is Elliott?"
"I'm Scott," said Scott, raising a hand.
"Elliott," said Elliott, though now it was unnecessary. He threw another glance at their surroundings.
"Good to meet you both." The entertained smile was still playing on Jim's lips.
"Come on, New York agents," he said. "We're driving just over the border to Arizona. I'll fill you in on things as we go."
With that he led them to a white van at the side of the lone runway. "You can store your luggage in the back," he directed, pulling open the driver's door.
"Thanks," Sean called over his shoulder. Walking around to the trunk door, he hauled it open and tossed his suitcase inside. Shaking his head, Barry followed suit---minus the tossing. Scott and Elliott also laid their baggage inside with care before moving to get into the van.
Sean was already climbing into the passenger seat. Scott and Elliott took the middle row, while Barry got into the back. As Elliott pulled the sliding door closed, Jim started the engine.
"It was my cousin Sam who told me about the stone acting up," he said as he pulled out of the parking space. "He had a long talk with his grandfather, who's worried too. It hasn't done this in years. Ever since the last threat to its safety was stopped, it's remained in peace in its cave."
"So, how does a rock have a mind of its own?" Sean asked. He supposed he should not question it too much after the ring incident, but he wondered what kind of explanation Jim's people had.
"We believe it was formed with the gentle aid of Mother Nature centuries ago," Jim said, "and that into it was poured righteous desires and dreams. That is why only the pure in heart can use it. If anyone tries to take it with ill thoughts in mind, they suffer the consequences sooner or later. But it may or may not be until after other, innocent people also suffer."
"So they don't die on the spot if they grab it?" Sean blinked.
Jim shook his head. "Some do, but for others it takes a while," he said. "It depends on just how black their heart truly is. And some do not die at all, but suffer far worse."
Scott took several folded sheets of paper out of his coat pocket. "I was researching other legends about stones with minds of their own," he said. "I found some from various lands, all about something called the Ancients' Amethyst. Is there any connection?"
Jim frowned. "I've heard of the Ancients' Amethyst," he said, "but I don't know if there's a connection. The general consensus there is that, over two thousand years ago, visitors from another planet left the amethyst with a people inhabiting a section of the Amazon Rainforest."
"Maybe it was Kneemoi's grandparents," Sean muttered. Overhearing, Elliott could not help but snicker.
Scott glanced at the papers. "According to this, the amethyst is also supposed to only be able to be picked up by someone pure of heart," he said. "Anyone else will die." He sighed. "But it doesn't actually say what kinds of powers it has, other than that it causes natural disasters."
"Fun several times over," Sean said sardonically.
"It sounds very aggressive," Jim said with a shake of his head, "and not just when someone unworthy tries to handle it. That is the opposite of this stone."
By now they were on the freeway, swiftly heading for the Arizona border. Scott watched out the window as red cliffs, shrubs, and other desert plants passed by the glass. It was fascinating. Off in the distance, a bird that looked like an eagle was flying further south.
"So the idea is that there's two completely different pieces of rock that can think for themselves," Sean said.
"It's not so much 'thinking' as it is 'feeling'," Jim corrected. "I really don't think our stone sits in its cave and actively decides, 'There is a bad man approaching. I will blast him.' Instead it feels the essence of evil in the air and reacts to it. It's like . . ." He paused, searching his mind for a proper explanation.
Elliott was one step ahead of him. "It's kind of like magnets," he suggested. "They're not thinking 'That's a piece of metal. I'm drawn to it.' Or 'There's another magnet. I don't like it.' It just happens because of the properties in each."
Jim glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Yes," he said, surprised. "It's something like that. The properties of the stone are repelled by the properties of evil."
"So it's like a magnet that's attracted to the pure in heart," Sean mused. "Interesting."
". . . At least two members of V.I.L.E. have been seen in this general area," Barry spoke up from the back. "Have you seen them?"
"I've tried," Jim said, "but . . ." He trailed off, staring at something off in the distance. "Oh no . . ." he murmured.
Sean blinked in confusion, about to ask what was wrong, but then the pink UFO caught his eye. "Kneemoi at eleven o'clock!" he announced.
Jim pushed harder on the accelerator. "And the area where she's hovering," he said. "See that blue glow? That's from the stone's cavern."
Scott swallowed hard. Were they going to make it in time? And what would happen if they did not? He did not want to see even V.I.L.E. agents get killed. Nor did he want anyone else to get killed trying to stop them.
"Is there only one guard?" he asked.
"Yes," Jim said. "At the moment, it'll be Sam. He stays through the night and leaves in the morning when Jared takes over." Concern for his cousin flashed through his eyes as he drove off the main road. Red sand flew in the air as he maneuvered around shrubs and rocks. Though they were all being jostled, he did not seem to notice.
Scott leaned forward as the scene finally came into view. The glow from the cavern was intensifying every moment. A young man brandishing a horizontal spear was on the sand below the cave, trying to keep Patty Larceny and Kneemoi from getting any closer. But though Patty seemed concerned about the blue light, she was trying to use her charms and her innocent school-girl act to get him to let her pass. Kneemoi just flew over his head with a giggle.
As the van drew nearer and slowed, Sean jumped out before it fully stopped. "Hey!" he yelled. "You can't go in there. Stop in the name of ACME Crimenet!"
Patty turned, paling at the sight of four familiar ACME agents and one unfamiliar one. The guard looked relieved.
"Jim!" he exclaimed as the local detective parked and ran over. "You're late."
"And you dunno how late!" another voice boomed.
Elliott stiffened. Eartha Brute was coming from behind another mesa, flexing her muscles with a merciless smirk. RoboCrook walked alongside her, his mechanical lips pulled back in a matching smirk as he gave a robotic "Ha ha!"
Sean stared at the display. "It's a V.I.L.E. Who's Who!" he gasped.
"You are outnumbered," RoboCrook intoned. "You should surrender while you are able."
"Outnumbered?" Sean retorted, his hands going to his hips. "Can you count? I count six of us and four of you!"
"I think you should count again, Detective," an easy-going voice said. Double Trouble strolled out from behind another mesa, both twins smirking in delight.
"Oh yeah!" Sarah Nade yelled, rollerblading across the top of the same mesa. She hit the side and skated down with an enthused cheer. "Booyah!"
"Okay," Sean frowned as the villains began to close in, "now we have a problem."
Eartha threw out a beefy fist, aiming to strike him in the head. He leaped to the side, causing her to swing at thin air. Then he grabbed her wrist, preparing to unleash a judo attack. Before he could, a laser beam flashed out of the corner of his eye. He let go of her wrist, hitting the sand as the laser clipped his side.
"Sean!" Scott cried. At the moment, he was grappling with both twins. As soon as he kicked one away, the other tried to kick him in turn. Then the first was trying to leap on his back.
Patty was giving Elliott a fake sweet look. "You won't hurt me, will you?" she said, fear in her eyes. "You're a gentleman."
Elliott snatched her wrist. "I'm just going to put the handcuffs on you," he said.
She grabbed his wrist with her other hand, letting out an ear-piercing shriek. Everyone, both ACME and V.I.L.E., froze.
"He's trying to kiss me!" she wailed, kicking at Elliott.
The poor brunet stared, wincing as the hit landed against his leg. But then his eyes narrowed. Patty had tried a similar act when he had chased her through Kyoto. She had managed to turn the confused passers-by to her side, nearly getting away in the ensuing frenzy. And Elliott was furious at being her scapegoat. He snapped the handcuff around her wrist as the fighting began again.
Now Barry was wrestling with RoboCrook. "I have some pocket magnets, you know," Barry deadpanned. "They're standard issue now, just in case ACME runs into you."
The android's eyes turned to alarm. He brought out his laser cannon again, shooting at Barry. But the bassman dodged. The beam sent red rock fragments flying.
"Stop!" Sam screamed, even as he struggled with Sarah Nade. "You're defacing sacred ground!"
"Oooh, sacred ground?" Eartha repeated, her deep voice mocking. "Gee, I've never defaced sacred ground before. Funny, it feels just the same as regular ground."
"And I guess a judo throw here will feel just the same as a judo throw somewhere else," Sean said smoothly. With that he grabbed her wrist and caught her off-guard, flinging her to the ground as she yelped.
Scott, meanwhile, took hold of the wrists of the twin on his back, throwing the recalcitrant twerp over his head. Then he punched the second one, sending him to the ground next to his brother. Scott snapped the handcuffs on them both before they could recover enough to attack again.
"Two down," he murmured, looking up. "Or four," he noted instead, seeing Eartha and Patty in handcuffs. Sean and Barry were surveying the scene, just as Scott was, trying to determine where they were most needed.
El . . . where was El?
A flash of red caught Scott's eye. But as he turned to look, his mouth dropped open in horror at the sight of long hair and a trenchcoat. It was not Elliott he was seeing---it was Carmen Sandiego! And she was climbing inside the cave!
Another flash of red, darker than the first, sent alarm up his spine. There was El, chasing her inside. He had realized what the rest of them had been too busy to see.
"They're all decoys!" Scott screamed, swerving past Sarah as he jumped onto the rocks in front of the cave's entrance. "Carmen Sandiego is going after the stone!"
He did not see Eartha breaking the chain of the handcuffs in two, nor did he see her take hold of Jim and throw him into Barry as RoboCrook fired another round. And he definitely did not see Sean leap up, torn between running to Scott or to Barry and Jim before being forced to dodge a bullet fired by the arriving Contessa. As Scott ran into the cave, the blue glow was all he could see.
That, and Carmen reaching for the stone with a gloved hand.
Far too much happened at once.
"Stop!" Scott screamed.
Carmen froze, glancing over her shoulder.
Elliott leaped out, tackling her to the floor of the cave.
Scott ran forward to help him, his heart racing wildly. "El!" he cried. "Elliott!"
Elliott wanted to look up at Scott and answer, but he could not divert his attention from the fight. Carmen was struggling to get up, her elbow jabbing him in the ribs. He winced, trying to keep hold of her in spite of the sudden pain.
Scott was here now, helping him pin her to the floor. Elliott gave him a grateful look.
The stone flamed brighter blue. The cave shook and groaned, small pieces of the ceiling raining around them. And there were other particles already on the floor. The cave had been quaking for some time, probably during the entire fight outside!
Scott looked up at it in alarm. "It's going to come down!" he yelled. He was sure of it; it looked like a crack expanding across the length of the small room.
Carmen shoved Elliott and Scott aside, grabbing for the stone as she tore for the exit.
But a furious blast emanated from it instead, forcing her outside without it and throwing Scott and Elliott against the back wall.
Scott cried out in pain, even as his best friend's echoing cry filled his ears. It hurt . . . it hurt so much. . . . The scream pierced him far more than the physical anguish.
Elliott was going to die! That was what the dreams had meant---Elliott was going to die!
Weak fingers grabbed for Scott, pulling him close. Scott sank to the floor, desperately clutching Elliott's vest as the older man fell with him, whispering Scott's name in agony. At the same moment, the same unfurling sound that had echoed through Scott's sleepless nights rang through the cave.
"No," Scott whispered as consciousness was stolen from him.
****
It was hard to say how much time had passed when he opened his eyes again. Was he . . . alive? Yes . . . his heart was thumping in his ears. And everything was aching. He was still on the floor, laying on his right side, his arms protectively around the still form next to him. . . .
"Elliott?!" he rasped. "Elliott, wake up!"
The stone was still there, bathing the room in a calm blue. But everything was so eerily silent. . . . Where were the others? Why weren't they there? Were they hurt? El . . . El did not wake up. . . .
Scott cried out in anguish. He had not been able to save Elliott. His best efforts to shield his friend from the blast had not been enough.
He struggled to sit up with the limp body, his own form shaking uncontrollably. He had not realized what the dreams meant, not in time to do anything. It was his fault, his inability to decipher the warning, that had cost Elliott his life. . . .
But . . . but why had he himself survived? He and Elliott had been trying to protect each other. He should be dead too.
What was this . . . other thing he could feel, weighing down on his back? It felt soft and warm and . . .
He looked over his shoulder in disbelief. What looked like a white wing was stretching around his side and over his back, where it met a second wing and crossed over it. His eyes followed the amazing appendages to their source.
They were coming out of Elliott's back.
Scott screamed, his arms shaking violently as he cradled his best friend. Elliott had died. . . . He had died and become an angel, as desperate to protect Scott as Scott had been to protect him. . . . And he had been rewarded with the fate in the afterlife that he truly deserved. . . .
Scott was far too dazed and horrified to feel the soft breath against his skin or hear the gentle thump of a heart.
But he heard the weak moan slipping from the pale lips.
His own heart nearly stopped. "Elliott?!" he cried. Elliott could not be alive . . . it was impossible. The wings . . . the wings meant . . .
Elliott stirred, his eyes fluttering open halfway. "Scott?" he whispered. "Scott, you're alive. . . . You're okay. . . ." He smiled, resting his head against Scott's shoulder as the wings began to uncurl from their tight hold on the younger man. He either did not notice or did not care about the presence of the extra limbs.
"You're okay," he repeated, as Scott's trembling fingers found the strong pulse against his neck.
And Scott sobbed, both from relief and confusion, as he held Elliott closer.
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?
Rating: T/PG-13
Word Count: 3,623
Main Characters: Fictional Rockapella (Sean, Scott, Elliott, Barry)
Supporting Characters: Almost all of V.I.L.E.
Summary: The guys' arrival instantly turns dangerous ... and shocking.
Will be posted to 10_hurt_comfort when complete.
Chapter One
He was running forward through the darkness, desperate as he took a flying leap into the air.
"El! Elliott, don't go! You can't leave . . . not like this!"
His hand closed around something soft, but then it was out of his reach again. He stumbled back to the ground, clutching only a handful of white feathers. He trembled, staring at the downy objects in disbelief.
As a gentle breeze blew past, the feathers were carried out of his hand and into every direction around him.
He was left with nothing.
"Scott! Scott, hey."
He started awake at his friend's gentle touch and concerned words. Elliott was leaning over him, worry in his eyes. Seeing that Scott was awake, Elliott started to relax.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You were calling for me. . . ."
Scott groaned, sitting upright in the airplane seat. He really had fallen asleep. And judging from the view out the window, it looked like they had arrived at the St. George Municipal Airport at the southern end of Utah. Sean and Barry were already outside, speaking with a Native American---probably Jim Pond, their guide.
"Have we been here long?" he mumbled.
Elliott shook his head. "Maybe ten, fifteen minutes," he said. "You didn't look like you'd had much sleep last night, so when you dozed off the rest of us decided to let you sleep as long as you could." He leaned against the back of his seat, propping himself up with an elbow.
Scott rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah . . . I didn't sleep much," he admitted.
"Bad dreams?" Elliott's face and voice were sympathetic.
Scott nodded. At last he looked up at the older man, his closest friend of eight years. El would not think he was crazy, especially after the kinds of things they had been going through. And he had started to fear that he was not crazy, either. Considering the dream's implications, he half-wished he was.
". . . It's always the same dream," he said at last. "Basically, that is. . . . I see something more each time."
Elliott frowned. "How many times have you had it?" he wanted to know.
"Every time I've fallen asleep for the past week," Scott said. He swallowed. "You're leaving, for some reason. And . . . you must be going into the sky, because I'm always looking up. This time I ran forward and leaped, trying to grab you. Instead I . . . I grabbed a bunch of white feathers."
Elliott was stunned. "That's weird," he said. He sat up straight, laying his hands on Scott's shoulders. "I'll never leave of my own free will," he said. "You know that, right?"
Scott nodded. "Yeah. Of course." He reached up, gripping Elliott's right wrist. "El . . . I don't know . . . I've never been one to believe in dreams, but what if it's some kind of warning about danger you might be in?" He sighed, looking away. "I know that sounds crazy, but when it keeps repeating, and getting bigger, I don't know what to think."
Elliott blinked. He had not thought of that. "I don't know either," he admitted. "I guess anything is possible."
Scott sighed. "This whole case sounds crazy, for that matter," he said.
A wry smirk graced Elliott's features. "You're telling me," he said. "I wish we could just write off the thing with this pendant as nothing, but after some of our adventures, I don't think we could ever do that."
Scott gave a weary, frustrated outtake of breath. "Well, I guess we'd better get out there," he said with a wry smirk of his own. "It'll probably look rude if we don't come right away."
He pushed himself out of the seat. Elliott followed suit, taking up his backpack and stepping into the aisle to allow Scott to walk by. But as the blond grabbed some of his belongings out of the overhead compartment, he hesitated.
". . . El?"
The brunet looked over in surprise. "Yeah?"
Scott pushed his hat back on his head as he closed the compartment. "There was something else," he admitted. "You and I . . . we were alone. When you left . . . there was just me." He swung his backpack over his shoulder. "I don't know where Sean and Barry were, either."
Elliott frowned. "We'll stay alert for anything that might be part of what the dream was talking about," he said.
Scott nodded, gratitude for his understanding friend welling in his heart.
"Thanks, El," he said, his voice quiet as he headed for the door.
Elliott followed.
****
Sean, Barry, and Jim all looked up as Scott and Elliott came down the ramp.
"Well, hello, Rip Van Winkle," Sean grinned. "We have your luggage here." He gestured to several suitcases that were gathered around their feet.
"Hi to you too, Mr. Maybe I'll Sleep On The Flight," Scott returned, trying to resist the urge to yawn. But then he was distracted by the view, the yawn catching in his throat. Red rocks and cliffs and desert stretched as far as he could see. The airport itself seemed to have been carved out of the mountains. A plateau rose to one side, as if protecting the airfield.
"Fascinating, isn't it," Sean commented.
Elliott was likewise gawking. "Yeah, no kidding," he said. Even on their travels, they had never ended up in this part of the world before. He would like to look around more if they were not on a case.
Jim looked amused. "The great American Southwest," he said. "By the way, I'm Jim Pond. And I know your names." He looked from one to the other. "But which one of you is Scott and which one is Elliott?"
"I'm Scott," said Scott, raising a hand.
"Elliott," said Elliott, though now it was unnecessary. He threw another glance at their surroundings.
"Good to meet you both." The entertained smile was still playing on Jim's lips.
"Come on, New York agents," he said. "We're driving just over the border to Arizona. I'll fill you in on things as we go."
With that he led them to a white van at the side of the lone runway. "You can store your luggage in the back," he directed, pulling open the driver's door.
"Thanks," Sean called over his shoulder. Walking around to the trunk door, he hauled it open and tossed his suitcase inside. Shaking his head, Barry followed suit---minus the tossing. Scott and Elliott also laid their baggage inside with care before moving to get into the van.
Sean was already climbing into the passenger seat. Scott and Elliott took the middle row, while Barry got into the back. As Elliott pulled the sliding door closed, Jim started the engine.
"It was my cousin Sam who told me about the stone acting up," he said as he pulled out of the parking space. "He had a long talk with his grandfather, who's worried too. It hasn't done this in years. Ever since the last threat to its safety was stopped, it's remained in peace in its cave."
"So, how does a rock have a mind of its own?" Sean asked. He supposed he should not question it too much after the ring incident, but he wondered what kind of explanation Jim's people had.
"We believe it was formed with the gentle aid of Mother Nature centuries ago," Jim said, "and that into it was poured righteous desires and dreams. That is why only the pure in heart can use it. If anyone tries to take it with ill thoughts in mind, they suffer the consequences sooner or later. But it may or may not be until after other, innocent people also suffer."
"So they don't die on the spot if they grab it?" Sean blinked.
Jim shook his head. "Some do, but for others it takes a while," he said. "It depends on just how black their heart truly is. And some do not die at all, but suffer far worse."
Scott took several folded sheets of paper out of his coat pocket. "I was researching other legends about stones with minds of their own," he said. "I found some from various lands, all about something called the Ancients' Amethyst. Is there any connection?"
Jim frowned. "I've heard of the Ancients' Amethyst," he said, "but I don't know if there's a connection. The general consensus there is that, over two thousand years ago, visitors from another planet left the amethyst with a people inhabiting a section of the Amazon Rainforest."
"Maybe it was Kneemoi's grandparents," Sean muttered. Overhearing, Elliott could not help but snicker.
Scott glanced at the papers. "According to this, the amethyst is also supposed to only be able to be picked up by someone pure of heart," he said. "Anyone else will die." He sighed. "But it doesn't actually say what kinds of powers it has, other than that it causes natural disasters."
"Fun several times over," Sean said sardonically.
"It sounds very aggressive," Jim said with a shake of his head, "and not just when someone unworthy tries to handle it. That is the opposite of this stone."
By now they were on the freeway, swiftly heading for the Arizona border. Scott watched out the window as red cliffs, shrubs, and other desert plants passed by the glass. It was fascinating. Off in the distance, a bird that looked like an eagle was flying further south.
"So the idea is that there's two completely different pieces of rock that can think for themselves," Sean said.
"It's not so much 'thinking' as it is 'feeling'," Jim corrected. "I really don't think our stone sits in its cave and actively decides, 'There is a bad man approaching. I will blast him.' Instead it feels the essence of evil in the air and reacts to it. It's like . . ." He paused, searching his mind for a proper explanation.
Elliott was one step ahead of him. "It's kind of like magnets," he suggested. "They're not thinking 'That's a piece of metal. I'm drawn to it.' Or 'There's another magnet. I don't like it.' It just happens because of the properties in each."
Jim glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Yes," he said, surprised. "It's something like that. The properties of the stone are repelled by the properties of evil."
"So it's like a magnet that's attracted to the pure in heart," Sean mused. "Interesting."
". . . At least two members of V.I.L.E. have been seen in this general area," Barry spoke up from the back. "Have you seen them?"
"I've tried," Jim said, "but . . ." He trailed off, staring at something off in the distance. "Oh no . . ." he murmured.
Sean blinked in confusion, about to ask what was wrong, but then the pink UFO caught his eye. "Kneemoi at eleven o'clock!" he announced.
Jim pushed harder on the accelerator. "And the area where she's hovering," he said. "See that blue glow? That's from the stone's cavern."
Scott swallowed hard. Were they going to make it in time? And what would happen if they did not? He did not want to see even V.I.L.E. agents get killed. Nor did he want anyone else to get killed trying to stop them.
"Is there only one guard?" he asked.
"Yes," Jim said. "At the moment, it'll be Sam. He stays through the night and leaves in the morning when Jared takes over." Concern for his cousin flashed through his eyes as he drove off the main road. Red sand flew in the air as he maneuvered around shrubs and rocks. Though they were all being jostled, he did not seem to notice.
Scott leaned forward as the scene finally came into view. The glow from the cavern was intensifying every moment. A young man brandishing a horizontal spear was on the sand below the cave, trying to keep Patty Larceny and Kneemoi from getting any closer. But though Patty seemed concerned about the blue light, she was trying to use her charms and her innocent school-girl act to get him to let her pass. Kneemoi just flew over his head with a giggle.
As the van drew nearer and slowed, Sean jumped out before it fully stopped. "Hey!" he yelled. "You can't go in there. Stop in the name of ACME Crimenet!"
Patty turned, paling at the sight of four familiar ACME agents and one unfamiliar one. The guard looked relieved.
"Jim!" he exclaimed as the local detective parked and ran over. "You're late."
"And you dunno how late!" another voice boomed.
Elliott stiffened. Eartha Brute was coming from behind another mesa, flexing her muscles with a merciless smirk. RoboCrook walked alongside her, his mechanical lips pulled back in a matching smirk as he gave a robotic "Ha ha!"
Sean stared at the display. "It's a V.I.L.E. Who's Who!" he gasped.
"You are outnumbered," RoboCrook intoned. "You should surrender while you are able."
"Outnumbered?" Sean retorted, his hands going to his hips. "Can you count? I count six of us and four of you!"
"I think you should count again, Detective," an easy-going voice said. Double Trouble strolled out from behind another mesa, both twins smirking in delight.
"Oh yeah!" Sarah Nade yelled, rollerblading across the top of the same mesa. She hit the side and skated down with an enthused cheer. "Booyah!"
"Okay," Sean frowned as the villains began to close in, "now we have a problem."
Eartha threw out a beefy fist, aiming to strike him in the head. He leaped to the side, causing her to swing at thin air. Then he grabbed her wrist, preparing to unleash a judo attack. Before he could, a laser beam flashed out of the corner of his eye. He let go of her wrist, hitting the sand as the laser clipped his side.
"Sean!" Scott cried. At the moment, he was grappling with both twins. As soon as he kicked one away, the other tried to kick him in turn. Then the first was trying to leap on his back.
Patty was giving Elliott a fake sweet look. "You won't hurt me, will you?" she said, fear in her eyes. "You're a gentleman."
Elliott snatched her wrist. "I'm just going to put the handcuffs on you," he said.
She grabbed his wrist with her other hand, letting out an ear-piercing shriek. Everyone, both ACME and V.I.L.E., froze.
"He's trying to kiss me!" she wailed, kicking at Elliott.
The poor brunet stared, wincing as the hit landed against his leg. But then his eyes narrowed. Patty had tried a similar act when he had chased her through Kyoto. She had managed to turn the confused passers-by to her side, nearly getting away in the ensuing frenzy. And Elliott was furious at being her scapegoat. He snapped the handcuff around her wrist as the fighting began again.
Now Barry was wrestling with RoboCrook. "I have some pocket magnets, you know," Barry deadpanned. "They're standard issue now, just in case ACME runs into you."
The android's eyes turned to alarm. He brought out his laser cannon again, shooting at Barry. But the bassman dodged. The beam sent red rock fragments flying.
"Stop!" Sam screamed, even as he struggled with Sarah Nade. "You're defacing sacred ground!"
"Oooh, sacred ground?" Eartha repeated, her deep voice mocking. "Gee, I've never defaced sacred ground before. Funny, it feels just the same as regular ground."
"And I guess a judo throw here will feel just the same as a judo throw somewhere else," Sean said smoothly. With that he grabbed her wrist and caught her off-guard, flinging her to the ground as she yelped.
Scott, meanwhile, took hold of the wrists of the twin on his back, throwing the recalcitrant twerp over his head. Then he punched the second one, sending him to the ground next to his brother. Scott snapped the handcuffs on them both before they could recover enough to attack again.
"Two down," he murmured, looking up. "Or four," he noted instead, seeing Eartha and Patty in handcuffs. Sean and Barry were surveying the scene, just as Scott was, trying to determine where they were most needed.
El . . . where was El?
A flash of red caught Scott's eye. But as he turned to look, his mouth dropped open in horror at the sight of long hair and a trenchcoat. It was not Elliott he was seeing---it was Carmen Sandiego! And she was climbing inside the cave!
Another flash of red, darker than the first, sent alarm up his spine. There was El, chasing her inside. He had realized what the rest of them had been too busy to see.
"They're all decoys!" Scott screamed, swerving past Sarah as he jumped onto the rocks in front of the cave's entrance. "Carmen Sandiego is going after the stone!"
He did not see Eartha breaking the chain of the handcuffs in two, nor did he see her take hold of Jim and throw him into Barry as RoboCrook fired another round. And he definitely did not see Sean leap up, torn between running to Scott or to Barry and Jim before being forced to dodge a bullet fired by the arriving Contessa. As Scott ran into the cave, the blue glow was all he could see.
That, and Carmen reaching for the stone with a gloved hand.
Far too much happened at once.
"Stop!" Scott screamed.
Carmen froze, glancing over her shoulder.
Elliott leaped out, tackling her to the floor of the cave.
Scott ran forward to help him, his heart racing wildly. "El!" he cried. "Elliott!"
Elliott wanted to look up at Scott and answer, but he could not divert his attention from the fight. Carmen was struggling to get up, her elbow jabbing him in the ribs. He winced, trying to keep hold of her in spite of the sudden pain.
Scott was here now, helping him pin her to the floor. Elliott gave him a grateful look.
The stone flamed brighter blue. The cave shook and groaned, small pieces of the ceiling raining around them. And there were other particles already on the floor. The cave had been quaking for some time, probably during the entire fight outside!
Scott looked up at it in alarm. "It's going to come down!" he yelled. He was sure of it; it looked like a crack expanding across the length of the small room.
Carmen shoved Elliott and Scott aside, grabbing for the stone as she tore for the exit.
But a furious blast emanated from it instead, forcing her outside without it and throwing Scott and Elliott against the back wall.
Scott cried out in pain, even as his best friend's echoing cry filled his ears. It hurt . . . it hurt so much. . . . The scream pierced him far more than the physical anguish.
Elliott was going to die! That was what the dreams had meant---Elliott was going to die!
Weak fingers grabbed for Scott, pulling him close. Scott sank to the floor, desperately clutching Elliott's vest as the older man fell with him, whispering Scott's name in agony. At the same moment, the same unfurling sound that had echoed through Scott's sleepless nights rang through the cave.
"No," Scott whispered as consciousness was stolen from him.
****
It was hard to say how much time had passed when he opened his eyes again. Was he . . . alive? Yes . . . his heart was thumping in his ears. And everything was aching. He was still on the floor, laying on his right side, his arms protectively around the still form next to him. . . .
"Elliott?!" he rasped. "Elliott, wake up!"
The stone was still there, bathing the room in a calm blue. But everything was so eerily silent. . . . Where were the others? Why weren't they there? Were they hurt? El . . . El did not wake up. . . .
Scott cried out in anguish. He had not been able to save Elliott. His best efforts to shield his friend from the blast had not been enough.
He struggled to sit up with the limp body, his own form shaking uncontrollably. He had not realized what the dreams meant, not in time to do anything. It was his fault, his inability to decipher the warning, that had cost Elliott his life. . . .
But . . . but why had he himself survived? He and Elliott had been trying to protect each other. He should be dead too.
What was this . . . other thing he could feel, weighing down on his back? It felt soft and warm and . . .
He looked over his shoulder in disbelief. What looked like a white wing was stretching around his side and over his back, where it met a second wing and crossed over it. His eyes followed the amazing appendages to their source.
They were coming out of Elliott's back.
Scott screamed, his arms shaking violently as he cradled his best friend. Elliott had died. . . . He had died and become an angel, as desperate to protect Scott as Scott had been to protect him. . . . And he had been rewarded with the fate in the afterlife that he truly deserved. . . .
Scott was far too dazed and horrified to feel the soft breath against his skin or hear the gentle thump of a heart.
But he heard the weak moan slipping from the pale lips.
His own heart nearly stopped. "Elliott?!" he cried. Elliott could not be alive . . . it was impossible. The wings . . . the wings meant . . .
Elliott stirred, his eyes fluttering open halfway. "Scott?" he whispered. "Scott, you're alive. . . . You're okay. . . ." He smiled, resting his head against Scott's shoulder as the wings began to uncurl from their tight hold on the younger man. He either did not notice or did not care about the presence of the extra limbs.
"You're okay," he repeated, as Scott's trembling fingers found the strong pulse against his neck.
And Scott sobbed, both from relief and confusion, as he held Elliott closer.