Chapter 22: Grease-Mart
Zach
Normally, working with my friends is exciting. Chasing down criminals, searching for clues, hacking into enemy electronics to see what they see; talk about exciting weekend plans! Now I'm just frustrated. I've spent the past three days searching for a needle in a haystack. I've brought several metaphoric industrial sized magnets, a flamethrower, and multiple gallons of water, and yet I haven't even found a clue. I've gone through every criminal record, all The Jester allusions available, and every circus that has opened on Earth, but I still have no sign of where Mitchell could be. I slammed my computer closed, twirling around in my desk chair. I closed my eyes, trying to find something peaceful in the hectic life I live. It wasn't very long until I couldn't see straight, the world spinning from my whipped up equilibrium. I inched myself off the chair, laid on the floor, and tried to regain my senses.
"Is this a bad time?" a familiar voice quietly asked. Jenna stood in the doorway, staring down at me sprawled across the carpet.
"Not at all." I said, pushing myself up even though my balance hadn't fully recovered. Jenna extended her arm. I reached up and got ready for her to throw me up. Surprisingly, she carefully lifted me off the ground.
"What's up?" I asked, the nervous look on her face telling me something was wrong.
She giggled, "Honestly, too much. But that's beside the point. Grease asked for me to get you. She said she needed your help downstairs." She looked around, frowning at my organized room. Nothing like your friend getting kidnapped to make you do a little spring cleaning, even if it is October.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I've never been in here." She said, still gazing at my video game posters and books that neatly lined the walls. " It isn't even close to what I expected."
"What did you expect? Pizza boxes, game cartridges, and dirty clothes?"
She laughed again, "Quite honestly, yes."
I couldn't help but smile. I have to be the direct opposite of a stereotypical gamer: tall, skinny, and a neat freak. What can I say? Can't hack into foreign networks if you can't find your mouse and keyboard.
Thinking back to a few days ago, my smile disappeared. "Just don't touch anything!" I said on my way out. Halfway through the door, I stopped, leaned in and said, "If you hurt my best friend in anyway, you'll have a lot worse to deal with than The Jester. OK have fun!"
Halfway down the hall, I heard Jenna yell back, "Well tell 'a lot worse' I'll be waiting."
I couldn't help but smile. Having kick-ass friends really is the best.
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The trek to Grease's garage is always fun. Luckily we have that sonic elevator otherwise the trip would take forever. Don't even get me started on the time when the elevator broke and I had to walk down 40 flights of stairs for Grease's urgent problem: her broken scanner. A day without being able to scan her creations for flaws is like hell on Earth for her. Why am I such a kind person?!
I walked past the dozens of doors I haven't even explored. I've been here for almost a year and I haven't even looked in a quarter of the rooms of this place. Grease's garage is easy to find, though; just listen for loud clanging, banging Top 40 hits, and an extremely sassy girl who's screaming at the top of her lungs at broken contraptions.
The first thing that hit me stepping through the doorway was the sound. Even with the door closed, I could clearly hear Taylor Swift belting out her newest song, although I didn't realize what the door was holding back until I opened it. You know those stickers on the sides of CDs that tell you not to listen above a certain decibel point. Yeah, neither has Grease. Second, was the smell. Honestly, I've been down here so many times, I'm surprised I haven't been desensitized to the stench of oil and fire. Last, was the light. The hallways are well light of course, but Grease's garage is like the Times Square Christmas display on steroids. Ceiling lights, desk lamps, and not-so-subtle subtle wall lights made the place brighter than my future.
I made my way through the winding walls of scraps, which Grease claims she organizes in some odd fashion. At this point I've just stopped questioning her. I found her under her newest and probably favorite invention: The Squad Mobile. I have no idea what makes it so special, mostly because Grease refuses to tell me, but she did ask me to wire an electric shotgun on all of the wheels so I have a good feeling about this one. I nudged the gurney she laid on, pushing her just enough to alert her of my presence. Apparently, I pushed a little too much because she screamed and pushed herself out from under the car. Her face and shirt were drenched in oil, the transparent liquid dripping down her face. She pushed the draining liquid aside from her eyes in one smooth swipe. She promptly kicked me in my shins, ripping a towel off the rack next to her. I even with the music blaring, I could hear her mumbling how much of an idiot I am.
"You know that isn't coming out, right?" I said as she tried to dab away the oozing oil.
She marched past me again, making sure to bump me across the shoulder and tapping several buttons on her smart watch.
"You know you just pissed off a girl surrounded by an arsenal of weapons she created, right?" She retorted angrily.
"Touché" I said back.
" Anyways, I have something for you but first, I need you to add firewalls to the car's radio."
"You have the best teenage hacker in the world at your fingertips and you want him to guard your playlist?" I said sarcastically.
"Well, unless you want The Jester to decode Y-100 and drive our car into a ravine, by all means go back to Super Smash Bros.!"
You can tell that we are big on sarcastic remarks in our loving family.
"Relax." I said calmly, "I know better than to argue with you."
She didn't bother to turn around while she dug through a pile of parts. "No you don't, just fix the machine."
I held my hands up in surrender, although she still didn't turn around. I gave up, shoving past the scrap metal that littered the floor. I tapped the watch on my wrist which unfolded into my computer/gun/adopted child. Grease liked to call it The iGun because Steven Jobs can, and I quote, "Eat his heart out". Personally, I liked to call her Kindness (Yes it is a she) that way, if anyone asks, I can say I kill people with Kindness. Anyways, it didn't take long to place a firewall and practically every electrical and Internet connected component of the vehicle (which was a lot. Why on Earth Grease needs Netflix in the drivers seat, I will never know). Perfect timing too because as soon as I shut down Kindness, Astrid briskly burst through the doors.
"You wanted to see me?" She asked, carefully making her way through the junkyard.
Grease popped out of a helicopter shell she's been designing. "Yes! Follow me!"
There was no way I'm missing one of Grease's invention introductions. I followed behind Astrid until we reached the weapons vault at the back of the room, the same place where I got Kindness and Richie got his knives. Grease punched in some numbers on a keypad and the walls retracted, just as ear piercing as I remember. We made our way through aisles of finished weapons; Jenna's, mine, and Mitchell's overflowing. Richie's was a bit scarce but that's probably because he was the newest. Then we came to Brianna's, racks of things that I won't even try to guess what they do. Brianna immediately grabbed for a classic Polaroid camera.
Now, I know all of you are like "Polaroid camera? Is that even English?!". Well, in fact, it is! A Polaroid camera has a tape real inside in which it would develop pictures after you shook it! Magical, right?
Brianna pointed it directly in my face just as I grabbed a drone off the wall. "Say cheese!" she said happily.
Grease immediately turned, knowing exactly what would happen. "Wait!" she yelled, but she was too late.
Brianna clicked the shutter and a brilliant light flashed in my eyes, temporarily blinding me. Once I regained my senses, I had no idea where I was. I'm not kidding either. I completely forgot everything before the picture. I had a killer migraine which made me stumble around until I tripped over a spare part on the floor. Brianna caught me just in time for my head not to smack into the cement. "Who are you? Where am I? Why is my watch glowing?" I stupidly asked. Grease stormed over, mumbling about why we can't have nice things. She snatched the camera out of Brianna's other hand, ripping the film from its ejection cartridge. She wildly flailed the image, trying to make it develop quickly.
"What did I do?!" Brianna asked urgently.
"You erased his memory, not that it makes much difference in his intelligence capacity." Grease responded angrily.
"What?! Why would you have something like that lying around?!"
I could only look around dazed, trying to take in the overwhelming environment. I blocked out Brianna and Grease arguing in the background, focusing on my glimmering watch. At the time, it had been Richie messaging me if I had found anything new about The Jester. Instead of pressing the answer button, I accidentally put Kindness into attack mode in which she spiraled out, surrounding my arm in metal. Normally, this would've been nothing, but to amnesiac me, seeing my arm being enveloped in steel really freaks out a person. I can only recall flailing in Brianna's arms until Grease smacked my face with something smooth and cold. When I came to, Brianna and Grease were laughing wildly while I was sprawled on the floor, the Polaroid picture stuck to my forehead. I pushed myself off the floor, grabbing onto a shelf to keep myself balanced. I grabbed the camera out of Grease's hand and put it back on the rack. "Not a fan." I said, leaning on the wall until their laughter died.
"That wasn't what I wanted to show you but it was pretty good." Grease said giggling.
"Very funny. Just get to the point." I coldly responded which only made them snicker even more.
Grease removed a black horseshoe from the lone stand in the center of the display. "Put this on your head." She said, handing it over. When I reached to grab it, Grease smacked my hand away. "Not you, you imbecile! Brianna."
"Fine." I said, crossing my arms. "Why is she putting a horseshoe on her head?"
They both turned to me, Grease giving herself a nice face-palm while Brianna glared at me like you've got to be kidding.
"Just put it on!" Grease said, clearly struggling to restrain herself from slapping me. If I'm making her angry it means I'm doing my job correctly.
Brianna slipped the horseshoe on top of her head, adjusting her dark hair and glasses.
"Alright. Now move that engine." Grease said nonchalantly.
"Funny joke, Grease. Really though, why did you give me a headband?" Brianna asked. (My bad, headband. Sorry, I don't know female accessories).
"To move my engine! Now go!"
"How the hell do you expect me to lift an engine? I'm strong, Grease, but not superhuman."
"I swear I'm working with idiots! With your mind! Not physically!"
"You expect me to use telekinesis?! Save it for April Fools, Grease."
"Brianna. Just. Lift. The. Stupid. Engine." Grease said coldly.
"Fine!"
Brianna stuck her hand out, not doubt imagining a floating engine. Whether the hand was to be funny or not, it actually worked. It was slow at first, but the engine soon wobbled and began to magically scoot itself across the floor. I could see Brianna grimacing but she was actually doing it!
"Now lift it!" Grease yelled.
Brianna just grunted in response, raising her hand higher while the engine followed her command. It almost reached the ceiling until Brianna suddenly dropped it and collapsed to the floor. The engine plummeted into a huge pile of part, landing with a thundering crash, throwing materials everywhere. The pile then ignited, sending Grease into a frenzy in which she ripped an extinguisher from the wall and sprinted over to the pile of burning trash, leaving me to help Brianna. Something about fire caused the gears in my mind to turn, but that was probably just the smell of burning oil.
She laid across the floor, holding her hand to her head and grimacing. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm fine. My head just feels like it's going to explode."
"Not surprising, really." Grease said, returning from her mission to extinguish the flames. "After all it is your first time using telekinesis."
"How did you invent telekinesis?!" I asked, fully curious. Although, I am experimenting with portals so maybe scientific superpowers shouldn't be so fascinating.
"Well, I figured that with all the synapses and nerves in her brain, she could possibly create a large enough energy field..." Grease began.
"... If she had enough focus and something to amplify it! That's brilliant!" I happily responded.
"I'm really glad you're both bonding over your nerdy science stuff but there's a girl dying on the floor!"
"You aren't dying," Grease plainly responded, "your brain is just recovering from over stimulation. The more you practice and stronger you get, the easier and less painful it will become."
"Well that's nice to know." Brianna said, shoving me away as she stood up. "The last thing we need is more fiery explosions, right Zach?" she said pointedly.
Of course, she was referencing the day before Richie arrived when I nearly burnt down the chemical lab because I was messing around with some loose wires. I made a small spark which ignited the beaker of pure hydrogen in front of me. In the hysteria, the beaker was knocked off the table and exploded. Thus, when we were supposed to be having a lesson on nuclear fusion, I made it a lesson on fire bombs and fire retardant. On the bright side, I managed to make a moving doll with the wires in the chaos!
Nonetheless, we all laughed. Something still bothered me but I couldn't place it. Something about that event and Brianna seemed to connect. I struggled to associate the two events! I sat on a heap of scrap metal, trying to focus.
"Zach? It was just a joke." Grease said.
"Zach?" Brianna asked, inching closer. I pushed her hand away and pounded the shelf next to me. Even with my eyes closed, I knew they were worried.
"There's no need to get fired up over a dumb joke, Zach." Grease angrily retorted.
That's when it all clicked. Brianna's accidentally fiery explosion, my science class incendiary bomb, Grease's horrible fire pun; there was one common detail: the fire. I can recall the classroom perfectly, especially people in the chaos. While I fooled around outside and the rest of the team desperately tried to quench the flames, Headmistress stood petrified at the front of the class. That was the key to finding out who Headmistress is and the key to discovering Mitchell's location.
My eyes flew open, both literally and figuratively. I jumped from my makeshift chair, scaring the crap out of Grease and Brianna. "Follow me!" I yelled back, sprinting for the door. I ran down the hall, Grease and Brianna hot on my trail. I punched the elevator button, the light began to glow and count down from lobby level. B1...B2...B3... I don't have time for this, by the time it reaches B50, it may be too late. Yes that is a little over dramatic but I don't care. And yes it is a hyper elevator, but I can use the workout!
I ran down the hall further, taking a heavy left, kicking open the door and nearly jumping up the 100 flights of stairs to reach L1. I could hear Grease and Brianna panting a few flights below me as I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. It took surprisingly less time and energy than I would've imagined (thanks adrenaline) but I made it nonetheless. Grease or Brianna must have sent the elevator back up because it was open and waiting for me. God bless because I don't think I could've made it up the rest of those stairs regardless of how much adrenaline was pumping through me. I ducked into the elevator, Grease and Brianna just barely able to jump in before the doors closed.
"Meet me in the main computer room, I'll get Richie and Jenna." I said, waiting for the elevator to reach L15.
Grease and Brianna nodded in response, obviously out of breath. "I need to make this elevator faster and get rid of those stairs!" Grease struggling to say as she slid to the elevator floor.
"You can rest once you get to the room. Just hurry! I'm not sure how much time Mitchell has left..." I solemnly said as I exited the elevator.
I ran down the hall, sprinting to the last door: Richie's room. I quickly poked my head in, shouting, "I think I've Mitchell!"
In my rush, I failed to notice Jenna who sat next to him, her eyes obviously red from crying. My face grew extremely hot from the awkward silence that followed.
"That's wonderful!" Richie said, jumping off his bed and helping Jenna up. She walked for the door, right past me without saying a word.
"Jenna, are you-" I started.
"Fine." She said, cutting me off before marching down the hall.
"What happened?" I asked Richie who oddly took his time walking from the room.
"Not my place to say. Besides, we have a friend to find." He softly responded, following Jenna down the hall.
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I burst through the doors, hitting them so hard they nearly slammed back into me. Brianna and Grease nearly jumped out of their seats.
"Sorry", I said shyly, "Probably too dramatic but this is an exciting moment."
Richie and Jenna ran in directly after me, taking no time to find a close seat to the computer. I squeezed my way through the crowd and took a seat. I began to furiously type, trying to open a search.
"So what exactly did you find?" Richie asked.
"It isn't what I've found, it's what I've remembered. It's been right in front of us this entire time." I said in between my frantic typing.
"Can you stop speaking in riddles and just answer our question! Where is Mitchell?" Jenna said, obviously growing angry.
"I don't know." I responded.
Jenna looked pretty close to punching me in my face (not that she doesn't regularly) so I included a safe little 'yet' in there. That seemed to calm her down for the moment.
"But, I do know who The Jester/Headmistress is." I said confidently.
"Yeah so do I! She says it every time a new member comes. How does Rebecca Lubelski help us?" Brianna sarcastically responded.
"She doesn't, she kidnapped our friend remember?" I fired back quickly. "In fact, Rebecca Lubelski can't help us at all!" I said dramatically as I found the article I was looking for.
The headline "Flames Destroy R.E.S.C.U.E. Laboratory! 2 Dead!" were sprawled across the screen in big, black, bold letters.
"How does a crispy Los Angeles science lab from..." Brianna began, leaning into the computer to see the small date scrawled under the huge title, "1976! How does that help?!"
"The lab was owned by the CIA, sort of like a pet project, it was used for experimental drugs and chemicals. Records show that it was run by two of the most regarded governmental scientists in history, George and Kate Arena! They were known for their unwavering dedication to science! On the night of the fire, George and Kate were working over time, trying to complete something the government demanded. The lab's mysterious blaze sent unknown toxins in the air, killing tens. But the most dangerous thing that come out of that museum was what the police had rescued. Their daughter, Gia, was found in the front parking lot, staring at the inferno. The paramedics had found multiple injection sights and signs of inhuman treatment. They came to the conclusion that Gia's parents had been testing substances on their daughter on had been running trials on her. Her absence from public appearance and her inability to communicate affirmed this. She was processed into the foster care system, her family name lost its credibility, and the government covered up the truth behind the dangerous toxins." I said without looking at anyone around me.
"And how does that lead to Rebecca Lubelski?" Richie asked, trying to move things along.
"Because Gia Arena is Rebecca Lubelski!" I exclaimed, throwing my chair in a circle until I faced my team. I looked Richie straight in the eye and said, "And I have the evidence to prove it."
I quickly turned my chair again, going through more records.
"Think about it! Here's this little girl who suffered an extremely traumatic experience and was tortured her entire life, who just so happens to be the same possible age as The Jester. Coincidence? I think not!" I shouted excitedly.
"Zach, that still isn't hard proof. We need DNA samples, birth records, something other than a newspaper article. By the way, how did you even know to find this?" Jenna asked.
I could feel the huge smile stretching across my face. Jenna: always one step ahead of me. "My dear, I am so happy you said that I could kiss you! On second thought, I'll save that for Richie. Anyways, after the first attack from the Jester, Headmistress asked me to erase some important files she thought were too dangerous for the Jester to get a hold of, little did I know she was The Jester at the time, but that is a story for another day! Normally, I would've just encrypted and erased the files and happily eaten the Thursday buffet, but I noticed that one of the files was a newspaper article, hence our situation, and curiosity got the best of me. So, instead of deleting the files, I secretly sent them to an anonymous account which I used to study the files as time ran on. About a month later, I saw no connection between them: mostly possible recruits, Academy spending records, and boring stuff like that. Thus, I forgot about them as Halo and CoD tactics filled in instead. But, the last and most difficult to crack file contained this document and a missing person report for Gia Arena!"
"Zach, that's just one instance! What are the chances this is where Mitchell is anyways? The building was burnt down." Richie said solemnly.
"Ah yes Mr. Brains! But, I can do you one better! Jenna, do you remember the day I nearly burned down the chem lab when I spilled those explosive chemicals?" I asked excitedly.
Jenna snorted, "How can I forget?! It was great!"
"Well, in the chaos, I noticed something important: Headmistress's expression! It was pure terror! Like a nightmare come true!" I responded, practically on the edge of my seat.
"I think everyone would be terrified if a teenager sent off a firebomb in front of them." Grease said doubtingly. The team shook their heads yes in response.
"Please! I know I'm right! This is our only lead. We have to try!" I exclaimed.
Richie backed up and raised his hands in surrender. "Alright. It's worth a shot. Everyone pack your stuff, Squadjet up in 20."
We collectively stood and began to walk towards the door, that is before Grease blocked us. "You guys aren't going anywhere without gear." She said happily, a creepy smile spreading across her face telling she'd planned for this.
This time, I gave everyone a break as we took the elevator, even though we need to get to Los Angeles as soon as possible. Grease practically pulled us into her garage where she happily equipped everyone with weapons. Apparently being armed to the teeth wasn't enough! I had enough smoke and EMP grenades to make the U.S. Army jealous, but Grease insisted that I wear her new suit. She handed every one of us a jet black suit which fit everyone flawlessly. She forced us into tubes which dressed us in a flash, like something out of The Jetsons. And one final surprise, Grease was coming too. She stepped out of a tube wearing her, so called, "mission suit" and a large satchel slung around her shoulder. Brianna tried to hand her a pistol, but she just turned it away.
"I've got everything I need in here." She said smugly, patting her bag.
I had no idea what that meant, but knowing Grease, it meant some crazy contraption that could and would probably blow up.
"Everyone good to go?" Richie asked, obviously wanting to leave.
"Wait!" Grease yelled, "I almost forgot!"
She sprinted through her junkyard to the back wall again, stopping for a minute at Mitchell's section. She lifted a large drawstring bag and a slender silver bat off the display and ran back to us. By the time she had walked back to us, she had managed to stuff the bag inside her satchel, but was still working on the bat.
"Grease, there's no possible way you can-" Jenna began, until Grease shifted the bat at a certain angle and it easily, and impossibly slid into the bag. "fit that." Jenna finished, astonished by the bag.
"New invention!" Grease said happily. "I can fit or grab anything mechanical or that I put in here, it just has to fit the bag's opening."
Everyone's mouths hung open, staring shocked at Grease's latest invention. Honestly, I thought today couldn't get any stranger, and yet I'm wrong again!
"And my final gift,", Grease said with suspense as she dug through her bag, "everyone gets one of these." She handed out miniature Bluetooth headsets. I strapped it to the side of my ear and clicked the flashing green on button. "Testing!" rung through my ear as Brianna fidgeted with her's. I recoiled from the shockingly loud words, ripping the earpiece off to adjust the sound. It only took me a minute to fix the settings so that I could hear my team without giving myself Tinnitus. Now that we were fully outfitted; our sleek black mission suits, our upgraded weapons, and our state-of-the-Grease headsets; everyone wound their way through Grease's garage until we finally met in the hallway. We jumped in the elevator, hyped by our new clues, and exited onto the auto-floor. We found the lone jet once again and prepared for take off. Richie popped open the lift and said, "Time to kick some ass", confidently as we all piled into the Squad-jet for our, hopefully, final mission. It's about time we saved Mitchell and took down our long standing foe.