A Touch of Fever

CHAPTER
6

WEST HAVEN

Everything was dark and stuffy. Pete felt like a princess looking for a pea as he wriggled beneath the heavy canvas toward a narrow sliver of light. Just a few more inches, he thought, as a meaty hand closed on his ankle. “Forget it, slick,” the fat lady huffed. “You’re not going anywhere.” He gave her a taste of his shoe leather. He felt bad kicking a woman in the face, but maybe the extra padding in her cheeks would soften the blow? In any event, the pudgy fingers came loose long enough for him to scramble out from beneath the collapsed tent into the open air of the midway. The bright electric lights came as a jolt after the suffocating darkness.

Squinting, he jumped to his feet. He kept a tight grip on the handle of the Tesla. Artie would kill him if he lost it. “Myka?” “Right here.” His partner emerged into the electric glow a few yards away. He ran over and helped her to her feet. “You okay?” “I’m fine.” She brushed the dirt from her knees, then looked up and down the midway.

“Where is Nadia?” “Hell if I know.” He joined her in scanning the bustling carnival. Unfortunately, her sideshow buddies had given the fleeing healer plenty of time to vanish into the crowd. She could be anywhere by now, and they didn’t have time to search the entire show on foot. Glancing behind him, he saw more bodies burrowing under the canvas. Jim and the others would be crawling out soon. Anxious carnies and random lookie loos came running to check on the fallen tent. Pete and Myka blended into the spectators like they had nothing to do with the accident. “We can’t let her get away with that glove,” Myka said urgently. “Tell me about it.” The Ferris wheel rotated above them.

High-spirited shrieks and laughter spilled from its swinging cars.

Pete’s gaze climbed to the top of the wheel, which was at least 150 feet above the carnival. There had to be quite a view from up there… “Hey!” he announced. “I just had the greatest idea ever.”

A nearby souvenir stand hawked cheap plastic toys and doodads. Pete dashed over to the stand, squeezing past a milling pod of schoolkids.

Toy swords, rubber snakes, helium balloons, inflatable cartoon characters, whistles, pennants, and posters competed for his attention, but he ignored them in favor of a pair of flimsy plastic binoculars. “Put it on my tab,” he told the vendor as he snatched the binoculars and made tracks for the Ferris wheel, which was several yards away. He bulldozed through the crowd while a confused-looking Myka rushed to keep up with him. “Pete?” He tossed her the Tesla.

“Take this! You might need it!” He skidded to a halt in front of the Ferris wheel and pointed to the topmost cars. “Maybe I can spot her from up there,” he explained, while cutting to the front of the line.

He flashed his badge at the ride operator. “Secret Service, bub. I’m commandeering this ride.” The operator looked understandably baffled.

“‘Commandeering’?” “You heard me, mister.” Pete took possession of a bottom car, over the protests of a teenage Romeo and his date. He barked orders at the carnie. “Take me up and don’t bring me down until you hear me yelling. This is a matter of national security!” That might be stretching it or bit, or maybe not. Who knew what the full potential of Nadia’s glove was? Not too long ago, Charles Atlas’s workout trunks had nearly destroyed Detroit… “Okay, okay,” the cowed operator complied. “Whatever you say, man!” The carnie worked a lever and the wheel resumed its turning. Pete called out to Myka as his car lurched forward. “I’ll let you know if I spot her. Stand by!”

“Good luck!” she shouted back. The wheel’s leisurely rotation wasn’t nearly fast enough. He tapped his feet impatiently against the floor of the car while he waited for the ride to carry him upward. As soon as he cleared the roofs of the surrounding snack bars and ticket booths, he started scanning the carnival grounds through the toy binoculars. The cheap lenses weren’t exactly government issue, but they were better than his naked eyes… barely. Pete found himself wishing that he had borrowed George Reeves’s eyeglasses from the Warehouse before heading east. He could really use some super-vision right now. The car shuddered to a halt at the top of the wheel. It rocked beneath him, even as he checked out the bird’s-eye view before him, which was just as breathtaking as he had imagined. The entire carnival was spread out beneath him. Tiny figures paraded amidst the brightly lit rides and attractions or crowded around the collapsed sideshow tent. Dozens of feet below, Myka looked like The Incredible Shrinking Agent. She waited tensely at the foot of the ride. Pete wished he had time to enjoy the spectacular vista, but spotting Nadia took priority. He swept his gaze over the sprawling carnival, searching for the fugitive healer. At first he didn’t see anything, and he started to wonder if this was such a bright idea after all. He lowered the binoculars to try to take in more of the scene. How was he supposed to spot one lone girl in all the glittery hustle and bustle below? Come on, come on, he thought. Where are you? Just as he considered giving up, a small white figure snagged his eye. Unlike the other miniature men, women, and children strolling the carnival, taking their time to enjoy its gaudy sights and sounds, this figure was zigzagging frantically through the crowd, making a beeline away from the fallen tent. A surge of excitement quickened Pete’s pulse.

Who else could it be? Lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, he zoomed in on the Lego-size figure. Bingo! A clear shot of Nadia came into view. She was still wearing her Princess Nefertiti getup, making her stand out from the ordinary carnival-goers around her. The healing glove fit snugly onto her right hand. Pete took a moment to track her headlong path before ringing Myka’s cell phone. She picked up right away. “Yes?” “Got her!” He wished they both had Farnsworths so she could see for herself. “Looks like she’s heading for the parking lot by the southern exit!” “Roger that! Meet you there!” Myka hung up abruptly. Pete watched from above as she took off toward the parking lot. Was there still time to catch Nadia before she got away? Pete crossed his fingers and wished Myka luck. Go get her, partner! Anxious to join the chase, he hollered down to the ride operator. “Hey, buddy!

Bring me down-pronto!” Myka couldn’t wait for Pete to touch down on terra firma again. Leaving her partner behind, she sprinted across the carnival. “Out of the way!” she shouted, waving her badge above her head. “Coming through!” Startled civilians cleared a path for her. A photographic memory helped her navigate the carnival’s confusing twists and turns as she remembered the route back to the parking lot.

Her arms pistoned at her sides, and she silently thanked every minute she had spent jogging along the Warehouse’s never-ending catwalks.

Nadia might be younger than she was, but Myka doubted that she was faster. This wasn’t the first time she’d pursued someone on foot. If she hurried, maybe there was still a chance to catch Nadia before she escaped with the glove. Watching intently for the other woman, Myka missed the fallen snow cone lying in her way. Her foot slipped on the spilled ice, wrenching her ankle. “Damn!” she cursed, recovering her balance before hitting the dirt. Her ankle stung like blazes, but she couldn’t afford to favor it. She kept on running, albeit with a painful limp. Every step jabbed her like a red-hot knife. Where was a healer now that she needed one? Myka spotted the exit ahead. A carnie stood by the gate, stamping the wrists of customers who might want to return later. Beyond the exit, a grassy field had been converted into an ad hoc parking lot. Cars and trucks were lined up in rows. Glowing headlights heralded new arrivals and departures. But where was Nadia?

Deprived of Pete’s bird’s-eye view, Myka didn’t see the healer right away, but then she spotted the younger woman racing toward the exit, on the other side of a spinning carousel. Painted wooden horses galloped between Myka and her quarry, creating a strobe-like view of the healer. Nadia still had a decent head start on her. Myka realized there was no way she was going to intercept Nadia. Unless… She jumped onto the moving merry-go-round and grabbed onto the back of a mock wooden sleigh to keep from being thrown from the ride. A pair of passengers yelped in surprise, but Myka ignored them. She let the carousel carry her halfway around until she was in front of the exit, then jumped directly into Nadia’s path. The impact sent throbbing spasms through her ankle, but she managed to stick the landing without falling over. Yay me, she thought. “End of the line!” she barked at Nadia, who froze before her like a bronzed bad guy. Myka aimed the Tesla at the wide-eyed healer. The aching ankle added a definite edge to her voice. “It’s over, Nadia. Give me the glove.” The agent’s ambush had obviously taken Nadia by surprise. She looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. “Please.” She guarded her gloved hand with her left, holding it close. “I just want to help people.” “I know.” Myka’s voice softened somewhat. She limped toward the girl.

“Believe it or not, so do I.” Nadia backed away fearfully, her eyes glued to the muzzle of the Tesla. Chances were, the weapon needed more time to recharge after zapping the snake, but Nadia didn’t know that.

“No, you don’t understand. I can’t give it up. I can’t. ” The carnie at the gate lumbered toward them. “Hey, what’s going on? This lady bothering you, Nadia?” “Don’t even think about it,” Myka growled, turning the gun in his direction. She’d had enough carnie solidarity tonight, thank you very much. “Stay out of this.” The pivoting motion twisted her injured ankle. Myka winced. “What’s the matter?” Nadia asked. She stepped forward meekly, like she was finally ready to surrender. A concerned look came over her face. “Are you hurt?” “It’s nothing.” Myka appreciated the girl’s improved attitude. She hoped she could get some aspirin soon, after she had the elusive glove in custody. “Just my ankle.” “Let me help.” Too late Myka realized what the healer intended. Nadia reached out and placed her gloved right hand on the agent’s wrist. “Wait!” Myka blurted. “Don’t-” Bright blue sparks ignited where the glove touched her. An electric shock jolted Myka’s nervous system, surging from her wrist to her wounded ankle.

Her body convulsed. Her eyes rolled backward until only the whites were visible. The whole world dissolved into static. Myka crumpled to the ground. “Myka!” Pete found her sprawled near the exit. Rushing to her side, he feared the worst until his voice roused her. She sat up clumsily, looking woozy and disorientated. Wide brown eyes blinked rapidly before focusing on her partner. “Pete? Wh-what happened?” For a moment he wondered if she had accidentally zapped herself with the Tesla, but no, that didn’t make sense. She’d still be out cold.

Something else must have knocked her for a loop. Like maybe Nadia’s glove? Pete recalled the way her “patients” had collapsed before.

“Don’t look now,” he told her, “but I think you got healed. With extreme prejudice.” Myka looked down at her ankle, which she wiggled experimentally. Pete could see the pieces coming together in her mind.

“Nadia!” she blurted, snapping back to business. “She’s getting away.”

She gestured urgently toward the exit. “You’ve got to go after her!”

Pete hesitated, reluctant to abandon his partner. “Are you sure?” “I’m just a little dizzy,” she assured him. “Go!” Taking her at her word, he ran through the exit into the parking lot. Rows of stationary vehicles obstructed his view while he searched for Nadia. His earlier sympathy for the distressed young healer was eroding fast. She had decked his partner, sort of. That made this personal. He took off down the center corridor, figuring that was her most likely escape route.

Did Nadia have a car parked here? Probably not, he figured; this lot was for the paying customers. Which meant that hopefully she was still on foot. A young couple approached the carnival from the outer reaches of the parking lot. Pete ran up to them. “Excuse me, folks. Have you seen a runaway Egyptian priestess?” “You mean that hot chick in the white robe? She went that way,” the guy volunteered, before casting a nervous glance at his date, who appeared less than amused by his powers of observation. He gulped. “Er, not that I really noticed…” “Thanks!” Pete left the poor guy to dig himself out of whatever hole he was in. “Good luck, dude.” Heading off the way the man had indicated, he cut through a line of parked cars to reach an open corridor one row over. His efforts were rewarded by the sight of Nadia herself at the far end of the fence. A barbed-wire fence cut off the parking lot from an adjacent pasture, blocking her escape. She paused, visibly uncertain which way to go next. “Nadia!” Pete sprinted toward her. He made a mental note not to let her lay hands on him until he took that glove off her. He had a touch of heartburn at the moment, probably from that chili dog he had munched on the way here, but nothing that needed healing that badly. “Stay right where you are, okay? We don’t want any more trouble.” She spun around. Pete noticed that she was sweating and out of breath. Her face was flushed. Perhaps she hadn’t recovered from healing all those people yet? No wonder she hadn’t been able to shake their tail. She looked like she was at the end of her rope. Pete hoped there was no more flight in her. He was anxious to get back to Myka and make she sure she was okay. “You don’t need to run anymore.” He walked toward her in what he hoped was a nonthreatening manner. “We’re the good guys. Really we are.” The roar of a powerful V-twin engine drowned out his words. A motorcycle zoomed past Pete, then braked in front of Nadia. “Hop on!” Jim Doherty shouted. The determined knife thrower must have gotten out from beneath the sideshow tent. “Hurry!” Nadia didn’t need to be asked twice. She jumped onto the chopper behind her boyfriend and threw her arms around his waist. He wore a leather jacket over his spangled costume. No helmet protected his skull. He shot Pete a dirty look.

“Wait!” Pete hollered. This whole operation was going south on them again. He rushed toward the bike, but Jim wasn’t sticking around.

Gunning the throttle, he pulled a wheelie, then peeled out parallel to the fence. Pete guessed that he was heading out of the parking lot toward the open road. The bike’s exhaust hung in the air. So much for chasing Nadia on foot. Pete tried to remember where his car was parked. Retrieving his keys from his pocket, he remote-activated the locks. An answering beep led him back to a rented Subaru and he jumped behind the wheel. Honking madly to clear a path, he sped out of the lot after the bike. He yanked his seat belt into place. The lights of the carnival receded in his rearview mirror. A winding country road lined by low stone walls and drooping elms and oaks led him away from West Haven. Keeping his eye on the motorcycle, Pete hit the gas to eat up the distance between them. Irritated drivers honked at him as he passed them in pursuit of the fleeing carnies. An oncoming pickup truck came around a corner fast, and he yanked hard on the wheel, barely making it back to his own lane in time. The close call left his heart pounding. This would have been easier in the Badlands… His wild driving made him impossible to miss. Jim and Nadia looked back over their shoulders. It was obvious they had made him. The chopper accelerated, trying to shake him, but Pete stuck to them like Sticky String, something he’d had plenty of gooey experience with. The bike wove recklessly through traffic, tempting fate. Did having a healer aboard encourage Jim to play daredevil, or was he just determined to keep Nadia out of the agents’ nefarious clutches? Probably the latter, Pete guessed. They shredded the speed limit, turning the moonlit road into a racetrack, as Pete floored it to keep up with the bike. His brain was racing, too, trying to figure out how to end this chase safely. Running the chopper off the road was not an option; as much as he wanted that glove, he wasn’t going to risk getting the two carnies killed in the process. Nor could he call for backup; he really didn’t want to involve the local constabulary in this. All he could do now was keep on top of the fugitives until they gave up or ran out of gas.

Losing them now would suck big-time. A stop sign warned of an approaching intersection. The Harley didn’t even slow down, despite an oncoming station wagon with the right of way. The wagon slammed on its brakes as the bike cut in front of it, risking a collision. The driver honked his horn in protest. Pete gave him an apologetic wave as he blew through the crossing after the bike. The problem with high-speed chases was that they always endangered any innocent drivers sharing the road. Pete’s temper heated up. Jim and Nadia weren’t risking just their own skins now. An open straightaway gave him a chance to zoom past the cars between him and the chopper. He pulled in behind the bike, which was right ahead of him, hammering down the road. Pete honked and flashed his headlights to try to get them to pull over. Too bad the rental car hadn’t come with a siren. Or a tractor beam. The riders ignored his signals. Instead, to his surprise, Nadia stood up behind Jim and climbed over her boyfriend’s shoulders even as he scooted backward to make room for her up front. The daring high-speed acrobatics were like something you’d see in a circus-or a carnival.

Pete’s jaw dropped. Nadia and Jim traded places atop the speeding chopper. She grabbed the handlebars, taking control of the bike. It swerved wildly for a second but then got back on course. The bike kept on rolling. “What the hey?” Peter muttered. He couldn’t figure out what they were up to. The answer came in the form of a flashing blade.

With Nadia now steering the bike, Jim’s hand was free to pluck a throwing knife from his belt and hurl it back at Pete. The blade caught the gleam of the Subaru’s headlights. Pete ducked involuntarily, but Jim wasn’t aiming at him. Instead of striking the windshield, the knife plunged toward the car’s front tires instead.

The knife struck the driver’s-side wheel with a jarring bump. Air hissed from the punctured tire. More knives followed, one after another. Both front tires blew. White knuckles gripped the steering wheel as Pete lost control of the car. He hit the brakes, and the car swerved to the right, clipping a mailbox and crashing into a ditch. An air bag inflated explosively, swallowing his face. Abused metal crunched noisily before falling silent. The Subaru came to rest nose down in the ditch. Broken glass tinkled across the mangled hood.

Smashed headlights went black. Pete guessed he wouldn’t be getting his deposit back. Over the ringing in his head, he heard Nadia open up on the throttle. The chopper sped away into the night. Artie didn’t like what they had to tell him. “You lost the artifact? It got away?” “I’m afraid so,” Myka admitted. She and Pete shared their Farnsworth while, a few yards away, a tow truck extricated the battered Subaru from the ditch. A second car, which she had “borrowed” from the carnival parking lot, was parked nearby. Unfortunately, she had not arrived in time to keep Nadia and Jim from escaping with the glove. On the brighter side, her ankle felt good as new. “At least we know what we’re looking for now,” Pete pointed out. His face was scratched and bruised from the crash, but otherwise he seemed to be in one piece.

His hair and clothes had looked better. “If not where it came from.”

“That’s progress,” Artie conceded. “A glove, you say? Of antique design?” He scratched his beard thoughtfully, sounding intrigued.

“Hmm. Let me look into that. In the meantime, you two need to get a lead on that girl. What about her fellow carnies?” Myka shook her head. “They’re not talking. Turns out the Mafia has nothing on the sideshow code of silence. Plus, they all seem to regard Nadia as a genuine saint. She’s been using the glove to relieve their aches and pains for weeks now. They’re not going to flip on her.” Pete squirmed uncomfortably. “Speaking of which, Artie, I’ve gotta ask: Are you sure we’re doing the right thing here? Nadia really does seem to be helping a whole lot of people.” “Are you serious?” Artie acted surprised by the question. “How long have you been working here, again? Since when do we leave unidentified artifacts at large?” “You weren’t there, Artie,” Myka said. She understood where Pete’s doubts were coming from. To be honest, the same reservations had crossed her mind. “You didn’t see how happy those people and their families were after Nadia healed them.” “But at what cost?” he said sternly. “I’m sure that this Nadia person means well. People who find an artifact, or are found by one, often do. But we absolutely, positively cannot let this go. That kind of thinking never ends well.” A grave look came over his bewhiskered face. “Look what happened to MacPherson.” James MacPherson’s schemes to exploit the power of the artifacts had ultimately gotten him killed, along with plenty of innocent people.

And it had all started when he used a dangerous artifact to save one woman at the expense of others. That had been the end of his career as an agent-and the beginning of a tragic tale of death and betrayal.

“Point taken.” Myka wished it was otherwise-that they could just let Nadia keep on healing people-but she’d been an agent long enough to know better. So had Pete. “Don’t worry, Artie,” he sighed. “We’ll track her down, just like we always do. It just kind of sucks sometimes, you know?” Artie smiled sadly. “Do I ever.” Pete tried to lighten the mood. He peered into the Farnsworth, trying to see around Artie’s head. “Is Claudia around?” He fished the cheap plastic binoculars from his pocket. Miraculously, they had come through the wreck unscathed. “I got her a souvenir, just like I promised.” Oh, boy, Myka thought. She could just imagine Claudia’s excitement… or lack thereof. “Sorry,” Artie said. “She and Leena are doing inventory.” In other words, they could be busy for a while…