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"So what do you want to do once we get over there?" Martin asked Ace, fiddling with the button on Ace's car that made window rise and fall. Ace was driving. Martin wasn't old enough to have a license yet. Of course, he already knew how to drive. They just didn't want to be ticketed. You could say that Martin knew a lot of things he shouldn't have known.
Ace tried to keep his eyes on the road, which was near impossible. It was rush hour time. "Please don't do that, Martin. It's hard enough to concentrate as it is. You're only makin’ it worse."
"Sorry." Martin took his hand off the button.
"Do we go through the back, or politely knock on the front door and hope he answers?" Martin inquired, now prodding the edge of the seat as if it contained something interesting. Anything was interesting to Martin. It didn't take much to amuse the little Martian.
"Politely knock and if he doesn't answer, barge our way inside," replied Ace. They were turning off the interstate now.
"And how do you suppose we do that, if Jeremy won't let us in willingly? You do realize that he's three times my height."
"You're not short—just height-challenged."
"I appreciate your apparent honesty," Martin cracked sarcastically. "But seriously, what if some of his thugs are there? A Martian and a long-eared rabbit—"
"—that's bunny, doc—"
"—er, bunny, sorry. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah. A Martian and a long-eared bunny don't have much of a chance against six thugs and Jeremy, not to mention his crazed girlfriends, even if we do have blades."
Ace had to admit Martin had a point. Martin always had a point. There was just something about the little Martian that made you want to trust him. Ace turned onto a side road that led to Jeremy's place. "Your brother ain't stupid, he knows what he's doing. I just wish he could've come. Everyone says he's a good fighter."
Martin was indignant. "Says?! He is a good fighter. It's just—" He fell silent.
Ace was getting impatient that Martin would never let on to anyone as to the reason why Mithras wouldn't fight. He definitely wasn't a pacifist, that was for sure. An uneasy silence fell.
A few moments later: "Here we are."
Martin peered up at the large house that was tilting to one side, the lawn that looked like it hadn't been mowed in over six years, and at the crows cawing loudly. "Gee, no wonder he took to the streets. Can't imagine what it's like to live here."
"The Building's no better."
"Whose side are you on anyway? Besides, at least the Building is upright and doesn't have any stupid crows."
"Eh, that's true."
Ace walked up to the whitewashed door and rapped lightly. Martin tried to peer in through the keyhole.
"Who's there?" asked a gruff voice. It was Octavian, one of Jeremy's thugs.
"We're here to speak to Jeremy," Martin said through the keyhole. Ace realized that Martin's voice was very similar to Mithras’.
"Mithras? That you?" said Jeremy. Ace heard a door slam inside.
"No, it's Martin. Let us in."
"Us? Who else is there?"
"Avery Walker Bunny, also known as Ace," Martin said cheerfully. Ace was about to throttle Martin for revealing his middle name to Jeremy and Octavian.
"Why?"
It was Ace's turn to speak through the keyhole, and he forgot his plan to throttle Martin. Shoving the little alien's head downwards, he demanded, "Just let us in."
The door was yanked open, and the two were pulled in.
"What do you two want?" Jeremy snarled, pinning Martin against the wall.
Ace silently vowed to use his switchblade if Martin was injured. He shoved the letter Jeremy had given to Camilla in his face. "You wrote that, right?"
Jeremy recognized the scrawl. "Yeah. Why?"
"That's what we should be askin’ you," spluttered Martin from the wall. "What came up that's so important that we have to cancel the brawl? I didn't know you could write."
Jeremy ignored the scathing sarcasm. He looked like he was deep in thought. Several moments passed.
"You going to answer?" Martin said, struggling to free himself. Poor Martin, he was so short. Ace regretted calling him ‘height-challenged’. He was a bright kid. A good one too. Ace sometimes wondered why Martin had become an Urbaner. His brother was, but only to exact revenge. On what, Ace wasn't certain, but that guy was going to be as good as dead whenever Mithras found him. But Martin—he had brains and talent. He was like Ron in a way. Martin was everyone's kid brother. Just a kid. Barely a teen. Poor Martin. He had seen things no one should have to see in their lifetime.
Poor Martin.
Jeremy grabbed Martin suddenly, and Ace was seized from behind. He did a back-flip, kicked, and sent the thug flying, but was choked by another one. He couldn't breathe. Where was Martin?
Poor Martin.
"Tie him up."
Ace was helplessly tied up and duct-taped and unceremoniously dumped onto Jeremy's dusty couch. Martin had a knife held to his throat by a cute-looking chick, who looked somewhat familiar. Martin was close to tears. Where was his blade when he needed it?
"What'll we do with this one?" said the chick.
Jeremy momentarily forgot Ace. He turned to Martin, who was trying unsuccessfully to free himself. "Do you know what we do with little aliens?"
"For some reason, I don't want to find out," growled Martin. For a little kid, he was tough.
"Well, that's too bad, ‘cause you're about to," Jeremy snickered.
"Do we dump him?"
Ace fumbled around for his blade. It must have fallen during the battle. Ace caught a lump in his throat. He knew what they did with little aliens, especially when they dumped them.
Poor Martin.
Jeremy considered the girl's thought. "Okay Anna, let's dump him. Here's some rope." He winked at her. Anna ignored him.
Martin was expertly tied up by Anna, and Octavian ripped off the duct tape that was over Ace's mouth.
"Oww!"
"You'll be cryin’ a louder tune soon, sonny Jim."
Sonny Jim? Ace wondered, nearly scoffing. He would have if it hadn't felt like his mouth was burning with pure agony.
"Let's put the bunny in the bone yard," Anna suggested, blinking her chestnut eyes dangerously. "We take care of him later."
"Good idea," Jeremy replied, grabbing Ace by the scruff of his neck and tying him to an oak tree in his backyard. "Stay there, we'll take care of you later."
Octavian pulled Martin's helmet off. Martin made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat.
"Oh, he's bald, poor guy," Octavian cracked sarcastically. He put the helmet on backwards—Martin was appalled—and lifted the alien up. The brush on Martin's helmet came off. "C'mon, we're gonna dump you." Martin struggled against Octavian's strong grip. "Don't be shy."
"Leave him alone," Ace dared to say.
Jeremy turned and without blinking an eyelid, punched Ace in the jaw. Everything went dark.
Ace was squished against a bunch of boxes in the back of Jeremy's rusty van. It was dark. Where was Martin?
Poor Martin.
Ace felt his jaw. All of his teeth were still intact, thankfully. His mouth was sore, though. Ace tried to wriggle out of the ropes binding him.
"Stop moving and keep quiet," Anna's voice said to him. "We're approaching the border."
"Larachia?" Ace dared to whisper. He winced as Anna dealt a blow to his cheek.
"Yes, Larachia, you idiot," she hissed. "We're almost at the end of the Intergalactic Beltway. Keep quiet, or we're all in trouble." She paused for effect. "Including Martin."
Ace shut up.
He bumped against a box that felt like it was full of bricks. A small piece of paper folded into the shape of a flower fluttered towards him, landing on top of his head. Ace shook the paper off. It landed near his hand.
There was some writing on it. His hand snatched the paper and slid it into his pocket, hoping Anna wouldn't notice. Maybe the paper had some clue as to what was going on.
Ace heard some voices outside of the car. He leaned against the side, straining to hear.
"Anything in there?" asked a man. Ace supposed he was the border guard.
"Just boxes." That was Jeremy.
"What's in the boxes?"
"Old stuff. Bricks, splintered wood, cracked stone, the like." So that was why Ace's head was throbbing like hell right now.
"Lemme see." The guard opened the back of the van. Anna was nowhere to be seen, but Ace felt himself yanked into a corner and a hand placed over his mouth.
The guard inspected a few crates, opened some boxes, and removed a random brick. "Take this. Check it for anything," he said to someone.
A few tense moments passed. The person was back. "It's just a brick. Give me that crate right there. Let's do some more tests. I don't like the look of this van."
A wooden crate near Ace was removed, and Ace was yanked further back into the corner. He could practically feel Anna's breath.
The crate was opened. A few bricks was all. Upon deeper investigation, a blue stone was found. The second man took the crate—bricks, stone, and all—and went to check it for explosives and drugs.
The man soon came back. "It's all clear, but I don't have a clue what this blue stone is."
The first man inspected the blue stone. "It can conduct electricity, probably. Record the license and description of everyone in the vehicle. Send the stone to Management."
The other man placed the stone on something that looked like a scale, and the stone disappeared. A few moments later, the stone came back, along with a letter.
"What's it say?"
"Stone's harmless. Do we put it back?"
"Yeah, why not? Put the crate back where it was. Give me those bricks."
The two men bickered for a bit, and everything was placed back where it was.
"Okay, you're all clear," the first man said to Jeremy.
Jeremy drove off, and Anna released Ace.
"Where's Martin?" Ace demanded.
Anna pointed to a huddle behind a crate. "He's still alive, so don't worry about it."
Ace ignored her and crept over to Martin, which was difficult given the fact that he was tied up. "Martin?" he whispered. "You okay?"
Martin didn't reply. He merely groaned. Ace checked that Martin was breathing and his heart was pumping, and Anna sat down next to me.
"You're supposed to stay where I can keep an eye on you!" Anna hissed, as the van thumped against another rock.
"Should've said something about that earlier," Ace said sarcastically. "‘Sides, you can see me from there, and I can keep an eye on Martin. We both win."
Anna had no argument. She kept hissing whenever Martin moaned.
The van hit another rock. All of the crates and boxes tumbled and Martin woke up.
"What the—?" he demanded, and was hit by a falling crate.
"Keep quiet!" Anna hissed at the two, ducking to avoid a falling box as Martin groaned from the impact of the crate. "We're almost at the Cliff."
"Cliff?" Martin questioned in a hushed tone. He turned to Ace. "What's going on?"
Ace quickly filled Martin in. After a moment's contemplation, Martin finally whispered, "Larachia? That's good. You were born there, and I have contacts. We can escape and see if we can get back to Acmetropolis before my brother sends all of the Urbaners in the Building out against Jeremy."
"A cliff, Martin," Ace reminded. "Only one way out, and they're bound to be watchin’ us."
"So? All we do is jump into the river."
Ace was about to gag. He made sure Anna was intent on straightening the boxes before answering. "Jump?! Martin, where've you been?! That's dangerous! And think what would happen if there wasn't a river, huh? We'd be dead."
"Well, it's either death by Jeremy or death by our own device. Which d'you want?" Martin asked pleasantly.
"You win, but if we're going down, we're going to take Jeremy with us."
"Fair enough. Do you have your blade on you? Mine mysteriously went missing."
"Mine too."
"Shit," Martin cursed. "Oh well. G'night Avery."
"That's Ace, doc."