Pittacus Lore - The Power of Six

“John!” Sam yells from down the hall.

I crawl to the front of the cell. “Right here!”

“What’s going on?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing!” I yell back.

Other prisoners shout through their cell bars, too. The guard who fell in front of my cell grunts and struggles to his feet. Blood flows from a gash on his head.

The ground shakes again. It’s more violent and lasts longer than the first time, and a fog of dust barrels down the corridor from the right. I’m temporarily blinded, but reach my hand through the bars and yell to the guard, “Let me out of here!”

“Hey! How’d you get your cuffs off?”

I see he’s disoriented, wavering a few steps to his right, a few to his left, ignoring the other guards who run by him with guns drawn. He’s covered in dust.

A thousand gunshots come from the right end of the corridor. A roar of a beast answers them.

“John!” Sam screams in a pitch I’ve never heard from him before.

I make eye contact with the guard and yell, “We’re all going to die in here if you don’t let me out!”

The guard looks towards the roars and terror spreads across his face. He slowly reaches for his gun, but before he can touch the grip it floats away from him. I know that trick-I saw that in Florida on a midnight walk-and I watch as the guard spins in confusion and runs.

Six becomes visible in front of my door, the large pendant still around her neck, and from the second I see her face I know she’s pissed at me. I also see that she’s in a very big hurry to get me out of here.

“What’s down there, Six? Is Sam okay? I can’t see anything,” I say.

She looks down the corridor and concentrates on something, and a set of keys comes floating down the corridor, right into her hands. She inserts them into a metal panel on the wall. My door unlocks. I run out of my cell and I’m finally able to see down the corridor. It’s extremely long, with at least forty cells between me and the exit. But the exit is gone, as is the wall it should be on, and I’m staring at the giant horned head of a piken. Two guards are in its mouth, and drool mixed with blood falls from its razor-sharp teeth.

“Sam!” I yell, but he doesn’t answer. I turn to Six. “Sam’s down there!”

She disappears before my eyes, and five seconds later I watch another cell slide open. Sam rushes towards me. I yell, “Okay, Six! Let’s trash this thing!”

Inches from my nose, Six’s face appears. “We’re not fighting the piken. Not here.”

“Are you kidding me?” I ask.

“There’s more important stuff we have to do, John,” she barks. “We have to get to Spain immediately.”

“Now?”

“Now!” Six grabs my hand and pulls me after her until I’m running at a full clip. Sam is right behind me, and we’re able to get through two sets of doors with Six’s keys. As the second one is flung open, we’re faced with seven Mogs running with cylindrical cannonlike tubes and swords. Instinctively, I reach for my dagger, but it’s not there. Six throws me the guard’s gun then holds me and Sam back. She lowers her head in concentration. The lead Mog is spun around, and his sword slices across the two behind him, turning them to ash. Six then kicks the Mog in the back and he falls on his own sword. She’s invisible before he dies.

Sam and I duck the first tube’s blast, and the second one singes the collar of my shirt. I shoot, emptying my pistol as I slide into the piles of ash. I kill one Mog and then pick up his dropped tube. Hundreds of lights spark to life the second my finger finds the trigger, and a green beam cuts through another Mog. I aim for the last two, but Six has already appeared behind them, lifting both to the ceiling with telekinesis. She slams them against the ground in front of me, then back to the ceiling and then again on the ground. My jeans are covered in their ash.

Six unlocks another door and we enter a large room with dozens of cubicles on fire. Holes smolder in the ceiling. Mogs are shooting at police, and police are firing back. Six wrestles a sword away from the nearest Mog and cuts off his arm, and then she jumps over a burning cubicle wall. I blast the stumbling one-armed Mog in the back with my tube, and he falls into a black heap of ash.

I see an unconscious Detective Murphy on the ground. Six darts through the maze of cubicles, swinging her sword so fast it blurs. Mogs turn to ash all around her. Police retreat through a door on the far left as Six slices through a circle of Mogs closing in on her. I shoot and shoot, destroying those on the perimeter.

When the room is clear, we run down an empty hallway under a shower of sparks.

“There!” Sam points to a giant hole leading out into a parking lot. We don’t hesitate, each one of us jumping through sparks and smoke; and before I sprint into the cold morning, I see my dagger and the tablet sitting on the desk in the office. I reach over and scoop them both up, and seconds later I’m following Six and Sam into a deep ditch that provides us plenty of cover.

“We’re not going to talk about that right now,” Six says, her arms pumping fast. She dropped the sword a mile back. I tossed the Mog tube under a bush.

“But do you have it, though?”

“John, not right now.”

“But do you-”

Six comes to an abrupt halt.

“John! You want to know where your Chest is?”

“In the trunk of the car?” I ask, my eyebrows raised in apology.

“Nope,” she says. “Try again.”

“Hidden in a Dumpster?”

Six lifts her arms above her head and a gust of wind sends me flying until I hit a massive oak tree. She marches towards me, fists at her sides. “How is she?”

“Who?” I ask.

“Your girlfriend, you asshole! Was it worth it? Was it worth leaving me surrounded by Mogs fighting to get your Chest back to see precious little Sarah? Was it worth getting arrested for? Did you get enough kisses to make up for getting your face slapped all over the news again?”

“No,” I mumble. “I think Sarah turned us in.”

“I think so, too,” Sam says.

“And you!” Six spins around to raise her finger at Sam. “You went along with it! I thought you were smarter than that, Sam. You’re supposed to be some kind of genius, and you think it’s a good idea to go to the one place in the whole world that the police would definitely be watching?”

“I’ve never called myself a genius,” Sam says, picking up the tablet I dropped, brushing dirt from it. Six keeps walking. “And, Six, I had no choice. Seriously. I tried as hard as I could to get John to go back and look for you and help.”

“He did,” I mutter, standing. “Don’t blame Sam.”

“Well, John, while you two lovebirds were hugging and kissing, I was getting my ass kicked doing you a favor. I would have died if Bernie Kosar didn’t grow into this giant elephant-bear animal and help. They have your Chest. And I’m sure by this point it’s sitting right next to mine in the cave in West Virginia.”

“Then that’s where I’m going,” I say.

“No, we’re going to Spain. Today.”

“No, we’re not!” I shout, brushing off my sleeves. “Not until I have my Chest back.”

“Well, I’m going to Spain,” she says.

“Why now?” Sam asks.

Our SUV comes into view. “I was just online. It’s serious over there. Somebody burned a huge symbol into the mountainside over Santa Teresa and it looks exactly like the brands around our ankles. Someone needs our help and I’m going.”

We hop in the car and Six drives slowly down the road, and Sam and I hide in the footwells of the backseat. Bernie Kosar barks from the passenger seat, happy to be riding shotgun for a change.