L. J. Singleton

"Chase!" Sandee called anxiously. "Come quick! There’s a monster!"

"Monster?" Chase rolled his eyes as he rose from the couch and clicked off the Discovery Channel. When he saw Sandee kneeling on the hall carpet in front of Professor Fergus’s closed office door, he demanded, "What are you doing? Spying?"

"Someone around here has to. Varina and the Professor have been acting weird. They’re doing a freaky experiment. I heard a horrible high-pitched growl." She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door. "Use your super hearing to find out what’s going on."

"I don’t spy on my friends."

"But they’re keeping secrets from us!" Sandee’s black eyes narrowed. "If you won’t help, I’ll get Eric. He’s not afraid to use his clone powers."

"Eric took his brother to the bus station. Even if he was here-" A shrill roar came from inside the room. Chase tensed, instantly alert. "What was that?"

"See!" Sandee said triumphantly. "I told you! The monster!."

Chase didn’t answer; he stared at the door, touching his ear to tune into his enhanced hearing. Varina was saying, "-need the cage!" Then her uncle exclaimed, "Hurry! He’s getting loose!"

When Varina screamed, Chase didn’t waste any time. He burst into the room. He saw Varina crawling on the floor, dragging a small wire cage. Professor Fergus was hunched by a metal cabinet, swatting at something with a broom.

"Chase! Sandee!" Varina shouted. "Shut the door! He’ll escape!"

"Who?" Chase glanced behind to see Sandee close the door, then he turned, his gaze sweeping the room. A chair was overturned, a potted fern toppled, and papers were scattered. A strange sound came from behind him. As Chase whirled around, a small glowing missile zoomed at him.

"Watch out!" Varina screamed.

Chase dodged, but not fast enough. Something smashed into his shoulder, knocking him to the floor. He blinked, not believing his eyes. A glowing rat!

Varina lunged forward with the cage. Chase leapt to his feet and charged after the rat. The creature skittered around a desk then scurried into a metal garbage can. Chase rushed forward. He grabbed a folder and tried to plop it over the can. The creature growled and sprang at Chase, its black-purple eyes burning with fury. Nail-sharp teeth flashed, biting Chase’s hand. He yelped and dropped the can.

Professor Fergus and Varina charged after the rat, cornering it against a wall, then capturing it in the cage. Panting with exhaustion, they collapsed into chairs.

"Whew!" the Professor exclaimed. "We narrowly missed a critical situation."

"You okay, Chase?" Varina tucked a loose auburn curl behind her ear, her green eyes softening with concern. "I heard you cry out-"

"It was nothing." Chase quickly shoved his throbbing hand into his pocket. "I’m fine."

Sandee smoothed back her short gold-streaked raven hair. "What was that THING?"

"We call him Glowbert," Professor Fergus said, sharing a guarded look with Varina; an unspoken agreement to lock their secrets away. "I’m afraid I can’t reveal any more."

"Thanks for helping." Varina gave a weak smile and pointed to a bowl of colored candies on her uncle’s desk. "Chase, you deserve a reward. Luckily the M&M’s weren’t knocked over. I saved the blue ones for you."

"Not now." He winced as a sharp pain shot through his hand. "What’s going on? How did you get that rat to glow? Is it a special paint?"

"No." The Professor stroked his salt and pepper beard. "Glowbert was born that way."

"Like he swallowed a light bulb?" Sandee’s pierced brow rose skeptically. "Impossible."

"Some people still say that about human cloning," Varina pointed out, which silenced Sandee. Varina, Sandee, Chase, as well as their friends Eric and Allison, were clones; each created with an unusual ability by Professor Fergus and two other doctors.

The Professor frowned into the rat’s cage. "I don’t understand what turned him violent. This will take much research and-" The phone rang. He reached for it. "Professor Fergus speaking . . . Eric, what’s up? Is your brother headed back to Texas? . . .What do you mean you’re on the bus with him? . . . Slow down and explain .. . Ohmygod! A BOMB!"

* * *

Eric gripped his seat cushion and ignored the noisy voices swelling around him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the pudgy, silver-haired bus driver. With his enhanced clone vision, Eric knew what the innocent-looking driver wore underneath his heavy leather jacket: complex wires and fuses taped around his chest.

I should have called the police, Eric thought. But how could I explain being about to see through a leather jacket? I can’t risk my clone friends by revealing my powers. Besides, I’m not positive it was a bomb. My vision has messed up before.

Sitting near him in a wheelchair, Marcus had no idea his life might be in danger. Eric wanted to confide in his brother, but knew Marcus would do something macho like tackle the driver. Marcus never let a wheelchair keep him down. So Eric kept quiet, letting Marcus assume his impulsive decision to go to Texas was due to homesickness.

Across the aisle, a brown-haired girl grinned at Eric. She had introduced herself as Asheria when he asked to borrow her cell phone. She seemed really cool. But she’d probably lose her cool if she knew the bus driver was packing a bomb.

If I really did see a bomb, Eric thought, frustrated. I wish I had Allison’s super strength or Varina’s sixth sense, then I could confront the driver and find out for sure.

Eric balled his hands in his lap, then forced a smile when he realized Asheria was watching him curiously. Eric glanced at his watch, feeling a sick sense of time running out. He thought, Thank goodness I was able to call the Professor. He’ll know what to do.

* * *

"Notify the police. There’s nothing else we can do," Professor Fergus said wearily. "I have to stay to observe Glowbert." He rubbed his forehead, and Varina knew he was having another one of his headaches. Daily, she begged him to take it easy, not work so hard -- but did he listen? No. Instead he was busy cloning rats with jelly fish cells; research that could result in medical miracles toward curing cancer and other diseases.

Since dealing with the police was risky for clones, Chase, Varina, and Sandee decided to go after Eric themselves. Varina checked the bus line for the the scheduled stops. The Professor offered the use of his car. Then with Chase at the wheel, they drove onto Hwy. 80. Chase sped silently while Sandee hummed in the back seat to music from her headset. Varina sat beside Chase, studying a map. She hoped to catch the bus at its first stop. If they failed, the second stop was in Reno where Allison was visiting her friend, Jett McBride. Allison had already been alerted and was ready to help.

"Is that the bus?" Sandee stared out the window. "Country Trails #57?"

"YES!" Varina pointed at a tan bus with white stripes. "Like Eric described. I can’t see Eric, but with his eyesight, he can probably see us." She sighed. "Those poor people traveling with a bomb. We have to stop that crazy driver!"

Chase pulled behind the bus, not saying anything. Varina felt prickles of fear when she noticed Chase’s pale skin and sweaty forehead. "Chase, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing!" he snapped.

"Don’t distract him." Sandee leaned forward near Chase. "He’s driving."

Chase stared ahead, tilting his head and focused on the bus. "The driver said something," he murmured as if in a daze. "Low tire . . . he’s pulling off. I can’t hear any more . . . too many voices . . . noises crowding in."

Varina frowned. Chase sounded strange and distracted. Her intuitived senses were flashing warning signals, and these senses were seldom wrong.

The bus turned off into a rest area. Chase followed with an abrupt jerk of the wheel.

When the bus parked and Varina caught her first glimpse of the driver, she was surprised to see a harmless-looking elderly man. This was a bomber?

"I’m going to take him down," Chase said, wiping his damp forehead.

"NO!" Varina grabbed his arm as he moved toward the bus. "You want to get yourself and a busload of people blown up? We need to lure the driver off from the bus."

"That’s a job for an actress." Sandee grinned wickedly. "I can handle it."

Before Varina or Chase could argue, Sandee hurried away.

* * *

When Eric saw Sandee strut up the bus steps, he nearly fell off his seat.

What was she doing here? Was she crazier than the bus driver?

"Excuse me." Sandee spoke to the bus driver in a phony sugar-sweet voice. If Eric hadn’t been so anxious, he would have chuckled. Sandee was the least sugary person he knew; she was more the spicy vinegar type.

"Whatcha want?" the driver asked with no emotion, as if he were dead inside.

"A woman begged me to get you. She says it’s really important."

"What woman?" He glanced beyond Sandee. "I don’t see no one."

"She’s over there." Sandee gestured vaguely toward a brick building. "She collapsed and is really sick. She said she knew you, that you’d help her."

"Not me. You got the wrong guy." He waved her away. "Move along, Miss. I can’t waste time yakking. Gotta make Ridge by three."

But Sandee didn’t give up that easily. She dropped to her knees and clasped her hands together, begging the driver to help the sick woman. "She described you exactly, and gave your name-" She pointed to his shirt where "Davis" was embroidered over a pocket. "She said to bring Davis to her. I thought she was your girlfriend or wife-"

"WIFE!" In an instant, the driver’s face contorted with rage. "My wife is dead." He smacked his fist against the dash then shoved Sandee out the door. With an angry tug on a lever, the door slammed with a fierce bang.

The bus jerked sharply, causing gasps and shouts from the passengers. In the back, a baby began to cry. Eric bit his lip, worries and fears building, as the bus sped out of the parking lot, leaving Sandee in its dust.

On the road again . . . trapped with a bomber.

* * *

Sandee didn’t say a word for miles, and Varina didn’t push her. They’d never been close friends, largely because of their rivalry over Chase. And Varina couldn’t help but resent Sandee for blowing their best chance to stop the bus driver.

What was the driver planning? Varina wondered. Sandee had said he’d mentioned wanting to make "Ridge by three." But according to the bus schedule, the only Nevada stops were Reno and Winnemucca. Varina couldn’t locate a town called Ridge on the map. With a worried glance at Chase, she pulled out the cell phone.

Next time the bus stopped, they’d wouldn’t mess up.

They’d have a plan -- and super-enhanced help.

* * *

"Why do you keep staring at the bus driver?" Asheria asked, leaning across the aisle.

"Uh ... am I?" Eric shrugged. "I-I thought maybe I knew him, but I was wrong."

"I’m the oldest of seven kids and can tell when I’m being conned. You were stressed to the max when you borrowed my cell phone. What’s going on?"

Eric was tempted to lie, but something about Asheria made him want to be honest. So without mentioning his clone powers, he whispered the truth. Her black eyes widened, but she didn’t panic. Only her lower lip quivered as she asked, "What can I do?"

"I wish I knew." Eric glanced at his brother Marcus who sat in a special wheelchair area. If the passengers had to make a run for safety, Marcus wouldn’t be able to walk, must less run.

"Shouldn’t we call the police?" She pulled out her cell phone, but Eric shook his head and explained he had already called for help. "My friends are following us."

"Are they cops or something?"

"Or something," Eric said, taking off his glasses and peering at Chase, Varina and Sandee in the distant car. Metal and steel became windows with his penetrating cloned vision. He would have felt reassured to have his friends so near, but something about Chase worried him. He decided to call to make sure everything was okay, but when he asked Asheria to borrow her phone again, there was no dial tone.

The phone was dead.

* * *

Allison crossed her long legs and tapped her fingers on the bus station bench. Country Trails #57 was seven minutes late. She turned to Jett. "The bus should be here by now."

"Probably got stuck in traffic. Give it a few more minutes." He shrugged, not a strand of his reddish hair out of place. Allison found his blend of preppy and dare-devil intriguing.

"I hate waiting." She stuffed her hands in her overall pockets and rose from the bench to pace back and forth. "I keep thinking about Eric and his brother trapped on that bus. Why would the driver strap himself with a bomb?"

"He’s either suicidal or a terrorist. Or Eric is mistaken. You said he wasn’t sure it was a bomb. How could he see under the guy’s shirt anyway?"

Allison hesitated. She liked Jett a lot, but didn’t know him well enough to trust him with clone secrets.

She was relieved when the phone rang. But relief quickly switched to terror when Varina exclaimed, "The bus driver just passed the Reno exit. He’s hijacking the bus!"

* * *

"Eric, wasn’t that our turn-off?" Marcus gave his younger brother a puzzled look. "Why are we going so fast?"

Eric shared a tense glance with Asheria. What a time for the phone battery to go dead!

Other passengers were whispering anxiously, too. Eric knew he had to level with his brother. "Marcus, the driver is nuts. I saw wires and-" Before he could finish, the bus swerved and lurched to a jarring stop.

Passengers shouted and cried out in alarm. A guy in back yelled something obscene at the driver. The driver answered by whirling around with an expression as ominous as the chrome gun in his hand. "Listen up! No one gets hurt if you do what I say!"

When a woman screamed and a baby wailed, the driver bellowed, "QUIET!"

He hit the lever which caused the double doors to swing open. Waving his gun, he ordered people to file onto a barren road where the desert stretched on for days. Women, men, little kids scurried off with panic in their faces.

When a teenage guy wearing gangster-type jeans, chains, and skull tattoos started to get off, the driver barred his way. "Not you. Sit there!" He pointed at the seat beside Asheria. Then he aimed the gun at the tattooed guy, Asheria, Eric and Marcus. "You four aren’t going anywhere."

The driver slammed the door shut. "This gun ain’t nothing to worry about. But this is." He lifted his shirt to reveal the intricate wiring Eric had already seen. "Pull anything and I’ll push this red button -- then KABOOM! Sit tight. It’s gonna be a long ride."

* * *

"Chase, shouldn’t we stop to help those passengers?" Varina asked as they drove past a distraught group of people standing by the road.

"Someone is calling on cell phone," Chase said, tilting his head in "listening" mode. "They’ll be okay, but Eric and Marcus are still on the bus with two others. I heard the driver threaten to blow them up. There isn’t time to wait for the cops."

"So Eric was right about the bomb." Sandee groaned from the back seat. "It’s all my fault. I should have come up with a better story. I messed up our chance to grab the driver."

Varina didn’t argue, still feeling resentful. Sandee was okay when she wasn’t pulling an attitude. But most of the time, she was like sandpaper, rubbing Varina the wrong way.

When Varina glanced at Chase, she forgot about Sandee. "CHASE!" she gasped. "Your hand is covered in bloddy purple blisters! What happened?"

"Nothing. A rash." He clutched the steering wheel, intent on the bus ahead. His skin radiated with heat and there was a dark energy in his jerky movements.

"That’s more than a rash. You should see a doctor-"

"Back off, Varina! I got more important things on my mind. I can take care of myself, so just leave me alone!"

Varina reeled, whip-lashed by his angry words. It wasn’t like Chase to be so harsh. He was her friend ... or at least he used to be.

"Lighten up, Chase," Sandee said. "Varina has a good reason to be worried about you. You’re weirding out. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were on something."

"Nothing wrong with me!" He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. "I AM FINE!"

Varina and Sandee shared an anxious look.

Chase was definitely NOT fine.

* * *

The driver pulled left onto a dirt road, spinning gravel as he whipped around a corner. The bus bounced and spewed up clouds of dust.

Asheria leaned toward Eric and whispered, "When I told my mom I’d rather die than live with Granny Jo in Texas, I never thought it might really happen."

"We’ll be okay." Eric hoped he was telling the truth. "And you’ll like living in Texas. I grew up in Marshall and miss it something fierce when I’m away. Mostly, I miss my family."

"I don’t miss my mom and she won’t miss me," Asheria said bitterly. "She thinks I’m lazy and useless because I don’t want to babysit every night while she parties with her boyfriends. We got in this major fight when I refused to babysit anymore. Next thing I know, she’s packing my bags and sending me to Granny Jo’s. And now I’m about to be blown up. " She gave a grim chuckle. "Guess this isn’t my week."

"We’ll get out of this." Eric turned and studied the driver, wondering what he was planning. Why had he released all of the passengers except the teenagers? Was he targeting them for a reason or was he just insane?

"Hey," Eric called out to the driver. "Where are you taking us?"

"You’ll find out. Shut up!" His fury reflected in the rearview mirror.

The skull tattooed guy stood. "What’s the deal here? Is this a ransom shake-down? Cause you got the wrong dude. No one’s gonna pay a nickel to get me back. Why let the others go but keep us?"

"Punks are disposable." The driver turned back with a sneer, guiding the wheel with one hand and aiming the gun with the other. "Sit down and or I’ll shoot you now."

Tattoo’s face paled. His lips trembled. He sat.

Marcus asked Eric in a low voice, "Now what?"

"We wait," Eric whispered. "Chase, Varina and Sandee are following."

Marcus didn’t look reassured. "I don’t reckon your friends are any match for a bomb."

"NO WHISPERING!" the driver snarled.

Marcus turned away from Eric, his hands shaking as he clutched the side rails of his wheelchair. Eric’s heart pounded. For the first time he wondered if they’d get out of this alive. He thought of his family back in Texas; his parents, brothers, sisters, and even the dogs. Would he ever see them again?

For miles of bumpy, dusty roads the bus rocked with squeaks and bumps, but its passengers were silent. Asheria reached across the aisle to squeeze Eric’s hand; her soft touch reassuring. He admired how she was holding up. Marcus seemed calm, too. But Tattoo wasn’t doing as well; sitting stiffly in his seat like stone, stricken with fear.

The driver drove deep into rugged hills and endless sage brush, further from civilization. They’re been off the road for nearly an hour. Eric hoped Chase was following far enough behind to avoid being spotted. Eric took off his glasses and zoomed in the distance. He scanned for the Professor’s car, intensifying his super vision, until his head felt like it would explode. But he saw nothing except desolate land.

Chase, Varina and Sandee were gone.

* * *

"What do you mean, you lost them?" Allison exclaimed into her cell phone, turning away from the black fumes of a bus leaving the station. Beside her, Jett leaned close to listen in. "I thought you were following . . . The bus disappeared? ... And Chase might be sick? . .. Okay. Call me if you find out more."

Frowning, Allison told Jett, "Varina thinks the bus pulled off onto a desert road. They’re going back to look. She also hinted that something’s wrong with Chase. She’s really worried."

"Chase always helped me when we were kids and I was in trouble" Jett said as they left the bus station. "If he needs me, I’m there for him. Let’s go."

"Go where? We don’t know where to look," Allison pointed out. "They’re miles ahead of us. And by now the police are probably searching, too. There could be road blocks."

"So we won’t take the road." Jett grinned. "Feel like flying?"

* * *

BOOM!!! An explosion shook the bus. Screams, shouts, and thundering thump-thumps. The bus lurched and rocked sideways. Eric grabbed protectively for Marcus. The bomb! Eric thought, confused because the blast came from outside. Not inside.

Marcus twisted in his wheelchair and pointed toward a window. "A tire blew."

The driver swore and stomped his foot. The thump-thumps boomed louder, shaking the passengers. The bus sagged to the right, then limped to a rough stop.

"NO! This isn’t suppose to happen!" The driver whirled around with his gun pointed. "Okay, you punks! Get up and walk off the bus."

"Unless you’re offering a miracle," Marcus said in his slow Texas drawl. "I can’t walk."

The driver eyed Marcus’s wheelchair with annoyance. Then he activated the levers and lowered the wheelchair ramp. Minutes later, the four teens assembled beside the bus, squinting from the intense afternoon desert sun.

"You two." The driver pointed at Eric and Tattoo. "Fix the tire."

Eric moved forward, but Tattoo stood there with a stunned expression. "I-I can’t ..."

"JUST DO IT!"

"But I-" Tattoo wrung his hands in one of his silver chains looped on his belt. "I-I never learned ... I don’t know how."

The driver glared at Tattoo. Then he raised his gun, aimed, and fired.

PART TWO

"I heard a shot!" Chase exclaimed. He rubbed his sweaty forehead, a wild expression in his eyes. "It was a gun . . . or was it a back-fire? I hear so many sounds -- all screaming at me. Voices, cars, bells -- noises crowding in my head! And I can’t shut them out! I can’t think!"

"Pull over, Chase." Varina put a calming hand on Chase, noticing his red blisters were swelling and oozing. "You need to rest a minute. We’ll figure this out together."

He pushed her off. "You think I can’t drive? That I’m crazy? You don’t trust me?"

"No. Nothing like that," Varina assured. "But I’m worried you might be sick."

"Varina’s right, Chase," Sandee added. "Pull over. Varina can drive."

"Sick?" Chase glanced at his blistered hand in horror. "What’s wrong with me? ... I-I don’t know ... burning up inside ... don’t feel good. Ever since the rat...."

"What about the rat?" Varina asked.

"Hurt ... on fire." He rubbed his forehead, slowing the car to the side of the road. His eyes glazed over and he reached out toward Varina. "Sorry ... didn’t mean ... things I-I said...."

Then he passed out.

* * *

Allison felt a rush of air and a thrill beyond words as the plane soared over the high desert. Jett operated the controls, a roar of wind and engine making it difficult to talk. If Allison hadn’t been so worried, she would have felt pure joy in this exhilarating moment. Instead, she peered anxiously through a pair of binoculars at the tiny world below.

"There’s a bus . . . no, it’s red not tan." Allison shook her head, letting Jett know she hadn’t found Eric yet. She was also searching for the Professor’s car. She kept thinking about what Varina had said about Chase. What kind of illness did he have? It must be something far more serious than the flu or a cold.

While Jett concentrated on flying, Allison continued to search below. A flash of brown off a rocky canyon dirt road snagged her attention. "Check it out! Down there! The bus!"

* * *

Varina tried to concentrate on driving, but she kept glancing at the back seat where Chase lie unconscious. She could feel his pain; a sense of poison billowing in a storm cloud around him. His pale skin glowed eerily and there were sharp cuts at the center of his blistered hand. The blisters were familiar. She remembered Chase’s words before he’d collapsed, "Ever since the rat-" What had he been trying to say?

Her memory clicked and she realized Glowbert had broken out in blisters before he went psycho. Ohmygod! Varina thought in horror. Those cuts on Chase’s hand are teeth marks!

"Chase was bitten by Glowbert!" Varina exclaimed. "I have to call my uncle."

Sandee reached for the cell phone, then held it out to Varina. But before Varina could dial -- the phone rang.

* * *

"They’ve spotted the bus," Sandee explained after a quick conversation with Allison. "Jett is landing the plane on a deserted road nearby. We’ll pick them up and they’ll lead us to the bus."

"But what about Chase? He needs help now." Varina felt a tug of war inside her. "We can’t go after Eric, not with Chase so sick."

"Do we have a choice?" Sandee asked grimly.

Varina fought back tears, and shook her head.

A short time later, they pulled onto a dirt road and picked up Allison and Jett.

Jett took the wheel while Varina sat numbly in the back beside Chase. She stroked his damp forehead, alarmed how he trembled and moaned. He was so pale, he practically glowed.

Varina called her uncle and found out that Glowbert was still thrashing savagely in his cage. Her uncle couldn’t explain it and was trying different tests. "Do what you can to help Eric, but then bring Chase here immediately."

"I will," Varina promised.

"Be careful," her uncle said. "Chase’s condition is like a ticking bomb. No matter what, don’t let him out of your sight."

* * *

The tattooed boy lay crumpled on the ground.

"He’s dead!" Asheria sobbed. She started to rush forward, but Eric held her back.

"No, he’s alive." Eric peered over the top of his glasses. "He just fainted."

"If I aimed to kill, he’d be dead," the driver said roughly. "But it’s not time."

"Time for what? To kill us?" Eric hid his terror, struggling to be brave like Chase. Chase never lost his cool, not even when his life was in danger. "Is that what you’re planning to do? Blow us all up. But why? You don’t even know us!"

"I know your type. No more talking! You and the girl change the tire." The gun pointed ominously. "Or my next shot won’t miss."

* * *

It was Allison’s idea to call Jett’s father. He was a lawyer with plenty of local contacts. He could alert the police without drawing attention to them. Although he didn’t know about secret experiments and clone powers, he loved Chase like a son and could be trusted.

"Mr. McBride is going to help," Allison announced after a long phone conversation. "He’s been watching the news and told me the bus driver’s name is Nick Davis. Nick’s wife was killed last week by a drunk driver, teenager who was returning from a party with his girlfriend and another couple. He ran a red light and smashed into Mrs. Davis’ car."

"How horrible!" Varina said, overwhelmed by sadness.

"Bad stuff happens." Sandee frowned. "But that’s no excuse for going ballistic and threatening to blow up innocent people. It’s not like Eric was the one who killed Davis’ wife." "Yeah," Jett agreed as dust churned around them on the rough road. "I just hope we’re not too late. We’re nearing the area I saw the bus. Anyone have a plan? We can’t just drive up and politely ask Mr. Davis to release his hostages."

Varina rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Why not? It might just work."

"Are you crazy?" Sandee asked.

"Maybe." Varina’s plan took shape in her mind and she grinned. "But what better way to confront a crazy man than with a crazy idea? Here’s what we should do. . . . "

* * *

When Eric saw the cloud of dust in the distance, he was torn with worry and relief. His friends were coming to help. But they didn’t know Davis had a gun. When Eric zoomed his vision to the car and saw Chase lying unconscious, his hopes sunk.

"What’s that noise?" Davis demanded, jerking to look around. "Better not be the cops! If I have to, I’ll blow them up, too. Hurry and finish that tire!"

"We’re doing our best," Eric said. He and Asheria had been trying to loosen the lug nuts, but they were jammed on too tight. Ironically, Marcus had the skill and muscles to fix the tire, but Davis insisted he stay in his wheelchair.

"Someone’s coming!" Davis exclaimed as a car came into view. He moved forward, aiming his gun.

"Don’t shoot!" Eric protested.

"It’s just a girl. What’s she doing out here?" Davis shook his gray head. "Is this a trick?"

Eric held his breath and said a silent prayer as Varina parked behind the bus then stepped boldly from the car. Eric knew his other friends were staying low, hidden from view.

Varina extended her hands in a peaceful gesture. "Mr. Davis, I’m a friend. I don’t have any weapons. I just want to help."

Davis jerked his head toward the bus. "Then help fix that tire."

"It’s you I want to help, Mr. Davis. I know what happened to your wife. And I’m sorry." Varina cautiously stepped closer. "It was a terrible accident-"

"Accident!" he snapped. "Call it was it was: murder. By four worthless punks! They weren’t even punished. They’re living it up out on bail and my wife is dead."

"I understand you’re upset, Mr. Davis," Varina said gently. She continued on, drawing his attention away from the car so Jett and Allison could sneak out and circle around the back of the bus. Sandee was staying with Chase -- and the cell phone.

"Violence isn’t the answer," Varina said in a soothing manner. Her enhanced cloned intuitive instincts guided her words. She tried not to think about the gun or the tattooed guy lying prone on the ground. At least Eric, Marcus and the girl were safe. For now.

Davis’s gun never wavered, although he seemed puzzled by her. "I don’t know what you hope to do, but it ain’t gonna work. It’s almost three o’clock."

"What happens at three?" Varina asked.

"I’ll see my wife." His expression was dark and deadly. "Move over there. Don’t try nothing -- and that includes your tricky friends, too."

"Stop right where you are!" He whirled around and aimed at a cluster of cactus by the front of the bus. "Thought you would sneak up on me? Come out right now, both of you."

Silence. No one moved or breathed or spoke.

"Now! Or I’ll start shooting, beginning with her." He pointed his gun directly at Varina.

"No! Don’t hurt her. I’m coming," Jett said, appearing from behind the cactus with Allison.

"We blew it," Allison murmured sadly.

"You sure did," Davis snarled. He forced them to line up against the bus, except for Marcus Tattoo. "No more tricks. You can’t stop me anyhow. This ain’t Ridge, but it’ll have to do. Ten minutes to three."

When Davis glanced at his watch, Marcus suddenly took action. He pumped the wheels on his chair. He rolled forward -- right for the bus driver. But a wheel snagged on a rock and he wobbled. He cried out as his chair toppled over. Before he hit the ground, he reached for Davis and contact! He smacked the gun and sent it sailing high in the air. It landed with a muffled thud in a prickly pear cactus.

The bus driver ripped off his shirt and shouted, "BACK OFF!" The tangle of wires and devices taped around his chest shone in the high sun. "Move back by the bus or kaboom!" He poised his finger over the red button.

Everyone froze.

"Mr. Davis, please," Varina said after long seconds. "You don’t want to hurt anyone." But he ignored her and she sensed a steel door slamming in his mind.

"We’re gonna wait another five minutes." When Davis smiled, Varina shivered. It was a creepy image; a shirtless old guy with gray hairs poking out on his flabby chest among white tape and silvery wires. "You’ll like my wife. She’s a great gal, full of spunk and energy. We hiked to the ridge last year and renewed our wedding vows at three o’clock, just like the first time," he went on in a deranged tone. "When those four punks killed her, I died, too. But soon we’ll be together."

With his hand hovering above the red button, he glanced at his watch.

"Just three more minutes."

Varina shared a panicked look with her friends. What could they do? Allison was the only one with the strength to overpower Davis, but would she be fast enough to prevent him from pushing the button? Varina could tell that Allison was weighing her options. And the others were ready to do something, too. But time was running out-

CRASH!

A horrific sound of metal ripping shattered the silence. There was an unearthly savage roar, then Chase burst from the car . . . . glowing.

* * *

"What’s that?" Davis cried out.

"Another friend," Eric said, staring in disbelief. Chase was glowing! His face was contorted in rage as if he were possessed by a demon.

Chase’s eyes blazed with purple-blue fire. He waved a bloody-blistered fist at the bus driver. "YOU!" Chase growled. Then he charged at the driver.

"What the-!" Davis shouted, spinning around in fear. He bolted for the bus, scrambling up the steps, then slamming the door shut.

But that didn’t stop Chase.

His white blond hair bristled with electricity and his body pulsed with glowing energy. He was beyond human; something primitive and wild. He roared and grabbed the bus door. Hinges shrieked as the door ripped away like a sheet of paper. Chase’s flung the door so far it arched high and then plummeted to the ground -- straight toward Marcus.

"Watch out!"Allison shouted. She moved fast, jumping sideways and blocking Marcus. She reached up with one hand and captured the huge door like a plastic Frisbee. When she set it harmlessly on the ground, Asheria and Jett gasped.

Eric’s black eyes widened. "Varina, what happened to Chase?"

"He’s sick! He doesn’t know what he’s doing! A rat bit him-"

"Must have been some rat." Eric turned to Allison. "Al, you’re the only one strong enough to stop Chase. Do something!"

"But be careful not to hurt him," Varina warned. "He may not be himself, but he’s still our friend."

Allison nodded grimly. "I’ll do my best."

Chase was inside the bus now, advancing on Davis. Davis was sobbing, threatening to blow them all up if Chase didn’t back off.

"Chase, do as he says!" Varina called out.

"Come out!" Allison added.

But Chase ignored them and kept moving toward the bus driver.

Allison boarded the bus with Eric close behind her. Varina started up the steps but paused when she heard her name called. Looking around, she saw Sandee waving from the car, holding the cell phone in her hand.

"Varina! Your uncle’s on the phone! Hurry! He says he knows how to cure Chase!"

* * *

While Chase smashed windows and raged like a wild beast in the bus, Varina clicked off the phone. She was stunned by her uncle’s revelation. Glowbert had finally calmed down, but only after he’d eaten something that had accidentally fallen into his cage. And that small morsel had cured him. Varina checked her pockets until she found what she was looking for. Then she hurried onto the bus.

Davis was screaming. He had pushed open a window and was trying to crawl out. He had one leg inside the bus and the other dangling from the window. "Get away!" the driver shouted. "Don’t hurt me!"

"What do you care?" Allison demanded, holding Chase back in the aisle. "You tried to kill us all. You said you wanted to die."

"I did -- but not anymore!" He was sobbing. "I wasn’t really gonna hurt anyone, except maybe myself. This bomb isn’t even real. Just a bunch of wires from an old TV. And the bullet in my gun was gonna be for me. I-I just wanted to scare you ... I wanted to get back at those kids for killing my wife. Hey!" He pressed closer to the window as Chase made a violent lunge forward. "Keep that monster away!"

Allison grabbed both of Chase’s arms and pulled him back.

"Chase!" Varina climbed from seat to seat to get near him. "It’s me, Varina!"

But Chase didn’t respond. He struggled to break free from Allison, thrashing wildly, groaning and growling.

"Listen to me, Chase," Varina tried again. "You’re sick. But I can help." She held out her hand. "Let me."

He stopped fighting and stared at her. His skin glowed, but the wildness faded from his eyes. And he murmured, "Varina?"

"Yes, it’s me. Take these." She held out three blue candies. "They’re M&M’s I was saving for you."

"I-I can’t think..."

"Don’t think. Just eat these. Hurry before you freak out again."

Chase looked confused, but chewed.

Varina stared at him, crossing her fingers and holding her breath. She exhaled with relief when his skin stopped glowing. His expression calmed. Even the blisters on his hand faded. Still Allison kept a firm grip on him. Together with Varina, they eased him off the bus.

Davis sagged from the window onto a bus seat. He covered his face in his hands. "Alice. Oh, Alice. Alice."

Eric and Jett exchanged a pitiful look, then turned and left the bus.

"I can’t believe what we went through and for nothing." Jett kicked a clump of sage brush. "That pathetic old man fooled us. It wasn’t even a bomb."

"Maybe not," Eric said solemnly. "But the gun was real."

* * *

A short while later, a country road flashed with police lights and sirens shrieked toward a lone bus which leaned to the side from a blown tire.

As the vehicles neared, a tough-looking guy with skull tattoos opened his eyes. He blinked groggily at a brown-haired girl sitting beside him. "How did I get here? What happened? Oh--the bomber!"

"I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up," Asheria said in amusement.

"You were on the bus . . . talking to the boy with glasses." He pushed himself upright and looked around in confusion. "But where did he go? And who tied up the bus driver?"

"I don’t know what boy you’re talking about." She shook her head, smiling with secrets. "But after you fainted, I took out the driver. So lose the attitude and say thank-you. I just saved your life."

* * *

It was all over the news.

Brave teen girl tackles grief-crazed bus driver and saves Charles Anthony Vandemeer The Third. It turned out that Tattoo hadn’t been truthful when he’d said no one would pay a nickel for his safety. His father, a wealthy CEO of a computer firm, would have paid millions.

A small group gathered around the TV in the Fergus home. On the screen, Asheria was accepting praise and hand-shakes. Her mother stood beside her proudly; beaming at her daughter who turned out not to be worthless after all.

"You go, Asheria!" Allison applauded, when Asheria told her story again, clearly enjoying her role of hero.

"Sandee, you better watch out," Eric teased. "Asheria is a better actress than you."

Sandee’s reply was to throw a pillow at Eric. But Eric just laughed and ducked .

Varina and Chase appeared in the doorway.

"The professor just gave me a clean bill of health," Chase told his friends.

"And Glowbert is doing fine, too," Varina added. "He still glows, but that’s nothing unusual. At least he doesn’t bite anymore -- except for the M&M’s that I sneak to him. My uncle says chocolate isn’t good for rats, but I think it’s a miracle cure."

"Just remember to save the blue ones for me," Chase said with a warm smile.

Varina reached for his hand and held it tight. "That’s something I’ll never forget."

Then they sat down with their friends to watch TV.