With a yelp, Bobby tripped. His heels gave out underneath him just as Oleander's hand swiped over his head. He scrambled on his bottom, clutching Chloe's brain, until his back hit the cement statue.
But Oleander didn't move. He narrowed his eyes on the panting boy and tightened his fists. He dispelled his telekinesis, dropping Sasha and Milla's bodies behind him. They hardly moved, but the slow rise and fall of their chests confirmed they were alive, at least, for the time being.
Bobby hurried to his feet, his toes digging into the gravel. He glanced between her brain and Oleander, a spike of fury shooting through him. The realization had thrown him off balance, but he returned with a rage that burned so hot his face flushed. Sweat dampened his brow, the intensity of his anger concentrating on his forehead, coming to a breaking point.
He fired. The neon pink PSI blast aimed at Oleander's head. But the coach held out his arms, jerking backward. A shield formed around him. The blast deflected to the night sky and fizzled like a weak firework.
Oleander dismissed his shield, chuckling. "Well, well, Bobby Zilch. You're actually using your powers for something productive, huh?"
"Get bent, coach," he hissed. "I got more comin'."
Oleander barked out a laugh. He shook his head as if disbelieving Bobby's threat. Bobby growled, feeling it reverberate against the roof of his mouth. If he had known Oleander was the mastermind before he was captured, he would have kicked his ass to the curb. He wanted his hands around the thick flesh of Oleander's neck to squeeze the life from him, the thought fueling another PSI blast to shoot out.
But again, Oleander's shield deflected it. He even flicked his hand upward, Bobby scowling when he sighed. "That old trick? You've got a one-track mind, soldier. I can read you like a book."
"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm gonna-!"
Bobby swallowed back his empty threat. Oleander's telekinetic hand lunged for his legs. He scrambled behind the statue, keeping his eyes on it. He wished he had paid attention in shielding class. He hopped as if playing basketball, darting from side to side, avoiding the coach's wild sweeps, but every time he glanced at Oleander, he stood still, continuing to jeer at him.
"Come on, Bobby! Hop to it, soldier! Show me what you've got!" he demanded, clenching his fist. "I thought you were the strong man! Well, prove it!"
He swung at Bobby's shins. Bobby gasped, his bare foot twisting on loose vines. He stumbled to the ground as Oleander's fist punched through the dirt, sending up the soil, earth, and metallic litter. Bobby's knee struck the ground, Chloe's brain slipping in his grasp, but despite the debris raining down on him, dirt sticking to his damp skin, he ignored the pain and snatched her brain.
"If we were in class, I'd appreciate how you're protecting your fellow cadet," Oleander remarked, withdrawing his hand, "but so far, I'm not liking what I'm seeing. That pitful anger isn't gonna cut it when your brain is in a psychoblaster death tank."
Bobby jumped up. He was sweating buckets, panic and wrath intermingling. "Go to hell! I don't give a crap what your crazy plan is. I'm gonna tear that mustache right off your mug!"
"With that liability in your arms?"
His low tone struck a nerve with Bobby. He glanced down at Chloe's brain, feeling it quietly pulse. He noted it was weaker when it previously had a steady beat.
"How long has her brain been out? It needs to be in cerebrospinal fluid for it to survive when it's not in its body," Oleander stated, and Bobby sucked in a breath through the spaces of his teeth. His brow furrowed. "Don't tell me you didn't even soak it before you ran off."
Bobby slid his leg toward the entrance, hearing the water lapping at the shore. "You just-! But you were shocked to see me! How did you know that?"
Oleander tapped his temple. "While you were running around dodging me, I got the scoop from Loboto's assistant." He snorted, shaking his head. "She might be skittish, but when I push her with telepathy, she'll fold and tell me everything I need to know."
Bobby glanced at the gate while Oleander spoke. He was blocking his path, and Bobby's options were limited. He could have made a run for it, but Bobby knew Oleander's telekinesis was faster. He'd swat him off his levitation ball in an instant. Even though he was furious, far more than ever before in his life, his PSI blast ammo would have eventually run out.
And Chloe was in danger. If he made a wrong choice, she was back in their clutches. He refused to let their grimy, cruel hands touch her, even if he worried about her body still in the doctor's lab with no current way to re-brain her.
"Now, this standoff has been-" Oleander clicked his tongue, closing in on Bobby. "-a quaint distraction, but stand down, Zilch. We both know you're not good enough to test me."
The insult pinched him. Bobby scowled, the muscles in his legs tensing. "Oh, yeah? What makes ya say that? Scared I'll set your butt on fire?"
Oleander polished his knuckles on his lapels. "Well, if you were Lili, I might have a reason to be."
Bobby fired again. Oleander gasped, his shield coming in time to ricochet it to the side. Bobby rushed him, Chloe's brain under his arm, and he punched forward, his PSI fist slamming directly into the spikes. He winced, his knuckles burning, but with a grunt, he made a small crack in it, continuing to apply pressure.
Oleander leered at it, his good eye focusing, before nodding. "Not bad! Not bad at all. Your form's a bit sloppy, so I'm giving you a demerit."
"Shut up! Let me punch you, old man!" Bobby cried, whipping his fist in all directions. He concentrated as hard as he could, glaring at the various points where he punched. He wanted nothing more than to feel the blow connect with Oleander, to watch his face contort and cry out just as Chloe had.
But Oleander dropped his shield. He turned invisible, and Bobby swung, missing. Bobby choked on a breath, hearing footsteps coming at him. Like a frightened animal, Bobby ran to the side, then bolted for the gate. His telekinetic force plunged toward it, but a gloved hand snatched his wrist. In shock, Bobby lost control, trapped in Oleander's grasp as he appeared next to him. Bobby struggled to free himself, yanking his arm only to feel something tight clasp around his body.
It was like a vice. A strangled cry left his throat. His limbs were pinned together, and Chloe slipped. He couldn't even shout her name when Oleander thrust him in the air, keeping him still while she landed on a patch of dead grass.
Oleander held Bobby in place, his telekinetic fingers squeezing his ribs. He bent over and gathered Chloe's brain. He gently shook stray pebbles out of the undulations. "Well, she looks okay, no thanks to you," he snapped. "What were you thinking? Brazenly taking a brain without a body for recranialization is a fool's mission. At her age, she might not have made it."
Bobby writhed. He felt like he was in the parking lot again, pleading for mercy from Mikhail. Humiliation swept through him a hundred times over. His cheeks flushed, and sweat dribbled down his face, his shirt already damp.
For the moment, all he could do was screech. "I'm gonna kick your ass! I swear it! When I get down from here, I'll - huh?"
Bobby cut himself off. A metallic twang creeped into the air. He shuddered, listening as it seemed to drop from the sky, whistling like a horn from a train. It rocketed toward the ground, but he couldn't twist his head in time to see it land with a sharp thud.
Oleander was remarkably calm. He only focused on Bobby, who resumed struggling as hinges creaked. He glanced at Chloe's brain and to the front of the asylum, saying, "You took your sweet time getting here."
A voice that needed to be oiled answered. "Oh, don't mind me! I just needed to amplify the powder."
"No way," Bobby breathed out, as giddy footsteps skipped across the paved path.
Carrying another PSI lock, Loboto whisked himself in front of Bobby. He swung Chloe's dangling body like a ragdoll. Sheegor followed, urging him to be careful. Loboto paid her no mind, holding Chloe up like a prized trophy. Bobby's heart sank into his gut, as petrified as the statue behind him when he took in the sheer dullness crossing her round features. Her unfocused eyes, a mouth gaping like a drooling flush, and lolling head told him a worse story.
"Zwicky's…Triplet," she mumbled with a groan.
Loboto laughed, tossing her to Sheegor. "Ah, unlike the other kids obsessed with television, that little pest was rambling about space. At least she has a modicum of intelligence left"
Sheegor caught Chloe and gently steadied her. She held Chloe's shoulders, her mittened hands lightly massaging them. She looked up at Bobby, whimpering an apology, and she slowly guided Chloe behind Bobby, who barked at her to stop.
"Let her go! She - she hasn't done anything to deserve this!"
"As if the other children have? You silly, naive boy," Loboto jeered, but Oleander nudged his elbow against his smock. Disgust stormed across his features, even though he relented into servitude.
Oleander narrowed his eyes on Bobby. He lowered the struggling cadet, refusing to release him. He came closer, and Loboto followed, arm and claw hidden behind his back.
Bobby glared at him. As Oleander calmly stared at him, he snarled, "You aren't gonna get away with this. I'm gonna kill you."
"Empty threats," Loboto mused. "At least we know for certain he can mouth off as well as he fights."
"I mean it," he growled, his expression contorting into something devilish. "Do you think I'm gonna take this crap? I'm not like those kids. I'm better than them. Stronger than them. I can dish it out, and I can take it more than any of them!" His voice reached a fever pitch, cracking and squealing. "You might be the coach, but I'm the strong man around Whispering Rock! Not you, half pint! I'll blast you! I'll burn you! I'll skewer your butt with that stupid pointy hat!"
As he ranted, Oleander observed him. He didn't return fire. He didn't retort. His silence fueled Bobby's agitation, who uttered a short scream and resumed his futile struggling. His ankles and wrists uselessly twitched, and he gnashed down on his pained teeth, his inflamed gums aching from his grinding.
"You're not Raz, Bobby," Oleander suddenly said.
Like glass breaking, Bobby shattered. He stopped completely. He gawped at Oleander, who let his smirk lift into his cheeks. And before Bobby knew it, Loboto slammed the PSI lock on his head, his brain feeling like a boulder, uttering a pitiful mewl of a cry.
"This entire time while I let you bellyache, you could've fired another close-range PSI blast. You could've used telekinesis or burned me like you said." Oleander's voice lowered. "But you didn't. You're all bark and no bite, Zilch. You let your anger talk with nothing to back it up."
Bobby was dropped to the ground. Oleander still held onto him, but they both knew he couldn't escape. He couldn't tear the lock off his head, nor could he use his abilities. Bobby had ranted and hollered, not realizing Oleander pulled the wool over Bobby's eyes with his agonizing silence, until he took the chance to strike.
Cackling, Loboto crouched next to the terrified boy. "Oh, I've heard many threatening speeches in my day, but this one is very memorable. You tried so hard only to fail so spectacularly."
"I - I won't let you beat me. I'll - I'll - I'll stop you," Bobby choked out as Loboto raised his claw.
"Oh, what's this now? You think you're a hero?" Loboto crooned, his black lips curling so high into his face that the skin by his optics wrinkled. "You? You pathetic, powerless pestilence? Out of the prospective children? Well, the record says otherwise."
Bobby tried sitting up, but Loboto pressed his heel on Bobby's chest. He winced, his head clunking against the ground. Gasping, restrained like an animal in a poacher's net, he wheezed out, demanding to know what he meant.
Oleander glanced at Loboto, and the doctor nodded. He reached into his smock and retrieved the clipboard. Oleander swiped it out of his hand, hurriedly flipping through the paperwork until he stopped on the last page. He let the other papers fall, ordering Sheegor to grab them, and she moaned to herself, hobbling after the sheets before the wind could carry them.
"You were strong. You used to be talented. You were an Aura Wrangler at nine," Oleander recalled. A chill clung to Bobby's skin, anxiety pumping through his bloodless veins as he continued. "I had such high hopes for you. You were a bright psychic, even if you used your powers to piss off other kids." He tossed away the clipboard. Bobby caught a glimpse of a familiar device printed on the paper that had his eyes shooting wide open. "But then, three summers ago, you took up Nein's training. Whatever happened in that Brain Tumbler really messed you and your mind up."
"Shut up!" was all he could shout back.
"Well, you could've recovered faster if you took up those specialized courses he made just for you to fix his mistake, but you refused. Too bad, Bobby, but I'll take what I can get." Oleander shrugged; not a trace of sympathy was found. "I told you not to accept his training, but in the end, it was your decision."
Bobby's vision went as red as freshly spilled blood, and memories seized control.
He was nine years old again outside of the lodge. He was accepting a red button, and Sasha was telling him personal, unauthorized training could further unlock his potential. An old friend was reassuring him Sasha was a respected agent. He was in Sasha's lab, signing his life away. He was standing with the back of his head to the Brain Tumbler, Sasha strapping him in before starting the test.
He was frying. He was screaming. He was witnessing terrors that crept out from the darkest corners of his mind. And he was unable to free himself, the electricity crackling against his skin from the malfunctioning machine, breathing in smoke, listening to Sasha panic.
He was sobbing in Ford's arms. He was running away from the lab, blood streaking down his nose. He was strapped to a board where the campers saw him at his lowest, still crying, still wailing, even as the nice woman in the white suit comforted him before putting the mask over his face.
His mind was never the same.
And his rage broke.
Screaming, Bobby lurched forward. He slipped his hand out in the millisecond Oleander's grip weakened by his roar. He shot at Oleander. As the coach grunted, Bobby snatched something hard and wet, ineffectively protected by soft lashes. He curled his fingers around it, twisted and jerked his arm back, and a riot of a laugh exploded out of him.
Oleander bellowed as if he was dying. He recoiled with such force that he dropped Chloe's brain. He covered his face, hunching and swiveling in place, but he tightened his grip on Bobby to the point that Bobby wailed at the top of his lungs, the sound of his bones grinding filling his ears.
Bobby tumbled to the ground, his cheek striking a rock. His fists unclenched, and something rolled out of his hand. He watched, dumbfounded, as Oleander's glass eye quietly rolled toward the statue.
"Oh, my," Loboto began as Oleander hobbled and wobbled, "I guess he does have a bite to match his bark."
Oleander snarled at Bobby, who was breathless. Darkness existed in the space where Bobby removed his eye. It seemed vacant, like the black holes Chloe often discussed with him. If he looked through it, he wondered if he would have seen through Oleander's skull.
But Oleander grinned, a slimy smile that churned even Bobby's stomach. "You're right, Cal. This kid is something else. Do it."
Bobby hardly had time to fight back. Loboto shoved his claw under his nose and cranked it. Yellow-green particles hit his face, and he inhaled. Pepper tickled his nostrils, which flared instantly. He gasped, balking, his lungs suddenly on fire.
Oleander released him, letting Bobby tremble as if wounded. He covered his nose, but the pressure tripled in his head. It was worse than the PSI lock. It was like being stung repeatedly by a thousand hornets trapped in his skull. His breathing grew snotty, bits of mucus staining his upper lip as he hacked and hyperventilated, his brain throbbing with such suffering that he couldn't stop the tears slipping down his cheeks.
"Good try, Bobby," Oleander said, telekinetically grabbing his eye, "but not good enough. Enjoy your life in a psychoblaster death tank."
"And don't worry, little boy. We'll put your tank right next to your little friend's," Loboto sneered, wiggling his fingers in a mocking wave.
Bobby struggled and wept and pleaded. He screwed his eyes shut, his entire body engulfed in agitation and pain. His brain thudded, threatening to burst, his sinuses ready to blow, their words sinking into his mind as added ammunition.
He thought of Chloe and knew he failed.
"No-!" Bobby managed to scream out, but he was cut off by his own loud, moist sneeze. The last thing he heard was his brain crashing into the statue with an even wetter splat.