“Someone please tell me what just happened,” Paul said, his eyes still glued to the massive lump across the street.
“Wish I could,” Tick said.
“We have the weirdest lives in the universe,” Sofia said.
Paul finally broke his gaze, lifting his broken arm a few inches, testing his injury. With a wince, he lowered his elbow back into the cradle of his other arm. “I’ve gotta get to a hospital.”
“We don’t have time,” Sofia said.
Paul let out a bitter laugh, but didn’t say anything.
“What do you mean?” Tick said. “We have to find him a doctor.”
Sofia pointed to her watch. “It’s already four-thirty. We only have thirty minutes left.”
“But—”
“Tick,” Paul cut in.
Tick looked at him. Paul’s body was covered in sweat, his eyes so bloodshot they looked as if they’d been dipped in red paint. The scowl of pain on his face had created deep lines in his forehead, large cracks that seemed permanent. But somehow, despite everything, Paul smiled—a miserable grimace, but a smile all the same.
“She’s right,” he said. “Broken arm, broken leg, broken head—doesn’t matter. Hungry, thirsty, ugly—doesn’t matter. We’ve only got thirty minutes.”
Tick paused, exchanging long glances with both of them. Finally, he nodded.
“Let’s go,” he said.
They took off, running along the wide arc of the border street.
Chapter
33
Five O’Clock
It took fifteen minutes to find the intersection representing five o’clock. Luckily, their hotel, The Stroke of Midnight Inn, had been two streets down from where they’d exited the forest. Once there, Tick and the others ran with renewed strength, counting the times off as they sprinted toward their destination.
One o’clock. Two o’clock. Three, four, five.
Gasping each breath, Tick doubled over to rest, hands on his knees, while he scanned the area for any sign of what they were supposed to do to wink away. They had only ten minutes until the real five o’clock.
The thick forest hugged the outside curve of the main street, the line of massive trees looming like ancient wooden towers. Thankfully, there was no sign of any mutant radioactive demon monkey-bears. The road that led from the town square of Circle City to the woods was bordered with various buildings and shops, people bustling about with smiles on their faces but blank looks in their eyes, as if kindness had worn thin and they only wanted to get their next task done. The eerie opera-lady music blared from unseen speakers.
The “T” formed by the two-street intersection was mostly empty, the clean pavement unblemished from potholes or cracks. Tick couldn’t see so much as a sewer grate, and wondered why everything about this Reality seemed simple but . . . off somehow.
I hope I never find out, he thought. I want out of here.
Paul zigzagged back and forth as he scanned the street for any sign or clue of a place in which they might need to stand at the appointed time. He clutched his arm and limped as if the pain had traveled through the rest of his body. Sofia searched as well, and Tick joined in. No one said a word, but worry and discouragement hung in the air like wilting clouds. Time was running out. Though confident they were in the right place, Tick didn’t know if that was good enough.
It does not matter; I do not care.
Just make sure your feet find air.
“The word air has to be carved somewhere,” Paul said.
“Yeah,” Tick mumbled as he walked awkwardly along, bent over, searching the pavement.
Sofia had stopped, her arms folded. “I think we’re thinking too much. Or maybe not enough.”
Tick looked at his watch. Six minutes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I think all we need to do is jump,” she replied. “Jump up at five o’clock, and our feet will be in the air.”
Tick stood straight, stretched his back. “Hmm. Possible,” he said. But something tickled the back of his brain. Something didn’t seem right. “But what if that’s not it?”
“Got any better ideas?”
Tick looked at Paul, who was still searching, still wincing with every step. His arm looked like a giant purple slug.
“What do you think?” Tick asked.
Paul answered without stopping his hunt. “I thought of that, but . . . I don’t know, I guess there’s nothing else to do. Just keep looking, and if we don’t find anything by the one-minute mark, we’ll stand in the middle of the road and jump at five o’clock.”
“Sounds good,” Tick said, resuming his search.
One minute passed. Two. No sign of anything, anywhere. Two minutes left. Nothing.
“Time’s almost up,” Sofia said, running toward the exact middle of the intersection. “Come on, hurry!”
Paul and Tick joined her. One minute to go. Then, like someone had dropped a water balloon on his head, a thought slammed into his mind. Make sure your feet find air. Make sure your feet find air!
“Your socks and shoes!” he screamed, reaching down before they could respond and ripping off his right shoe, not bothering to untie it. “Take off your shoes!” He pulled off his sock and then moved to his left foot.
Neither of them responded or argued—they did as they were told. Paul used his feet to kick off his shoes, then his one good arm to remove his socks. Anyone watching might have thought they’d gone nuts, or had ants crawling along their skin. But in a matter of twenty seconds, the three of them stood barefoot, the pavement warm on their feet, their shoes and socks gripped in their hands.
“Fifteen seconds,” Sofia whispered through a big breath.
“You’re a genius, Tick,” Paul said, his shoes wedged under his armpit.
“Ten seconds,” Sofia said.
“Maybe we should jump just in case,” Paul blurted out.
“Do it,” Tick agreed.
Sofia nodded as she counted the last five seconds. “Five, four, three, two, one—now!”
Tick had already bent his legs, and jumped into the air on her call.
When he came back down, the world around them had vanished, and his feet landed on something very cold.
“This is weird,” Rutger said as he stared at the command center screen, his eyes glued to the tracking marks of Tick’s Earwig Transponder. Master George, Sally, and Mothball stood behind him. They’d all come running when the chime had rung through the building, indicating Tick had winked to another location.