Unstoppable: Breakaway Part 3

Amy spun toward the reporter, her hand curling into a fist. But Jake appeared on one side of her and Dan on the other. They dragged her back through the crowds as the reporters took picture after picture. Atticus was waiting at the head of the alley with a cab idling behind him, its back doors thrown open.

Jake and Dan tossed Amy into the cab and then jumped in behind her. Atticus hopped into the front seat and slammed the door.

"Go!" Atticus shouted. "Now!"

"Unbelievable," Jake said, cradling his bruised hand. "They're worse than Pierce's goons."

Amy glared at Jake across the backseat of the taxi.

"Yeah," she said. "And you gave them exactly what they wanted."

To make sure they evaded the reporters, Atticus had the driver lead them on a high-speed ramble through Tunis. They were on a highway, then off again. By the lake, on the Habib Bourguiba, back in the medina. A tense silence filled the cab the entire way. Amy stared out one window while Jake stared out the other. Dan squirmed between them.

"Where to now?" Dan asked Amy, breaking the quiet. "The hotel?"

"Those reporters are going to be staking out every hotel in Tunis looking for us," Amy said. "Att, have the driver take us to your dad. We might as well get something accomplished."

Minutes later, the taxi skidded to a halt outside the gates of an ornate building. The three of them tumbled out of the backseat of the car as Atticus paid the driver. Once Jake introduced himself to the guard just inside the library, they were all given badges and shown through a set of double doors.

"Can I see Olivia's notebook again?" Atticus asked.

Amy dug in her bag and handed it over. It was amazing to watch him, she thought. Ninety percent of the time, Atticus looked like any other twelve-year-old on the street, but not when he read. He seemed older than her then. He lost himself in it, his forehead furrowing into thin ridges and his eyes going sharp as cut gla.s.s. She had the decoded notes in her bag, but it was like Atticus didn't even need them. Once he had broken the code, he could read right through it.

Jake was watching his brother, too, clearly just as amazed as she was. When Jake felt Amy watching him, he turned toward her, his face brightening in a smile. Amy felt a jolt of nerves and turned away from him, continuing on down the hall.

Small offices lined the hall on either side, each one filled with enough scientists in tweed and lab coats to fill a university. All of them were bent over ancient rocks and scrolls of paper. Even their murmurs sounded smart.

"Wow," Dan said. "This place is nerd central. Amy, we have got to get you a job here."

They came to the end of the hallway and an office with Dr. Rosenbloom on the doorplate.

"Okay," Jake said. "You two wait out here while Atticus and I see what we can learn."

Jake was about to close the door behind them but Amy shoved her hand between the door and the jamb. She hissed with pain but managed to keep it open a crack without attracting Jake's attention.

Dr. Rosenbloom's office reminded Amy of a library that had been struck by a tornado. Books and journals and newspapers covered every square inch of the place, most of them underlined and highlighted and powdered with dust. Old dishes and tea-stained mugs were stacked in listing towers beside walls of half-opened mail. The place didn't seem dirty, exactly, it just seemed like the s.p.a.ce of a man with a million thoughts going through his head at once.

The only part of the office that was at all well-ordered were the shelves stuffed with books relating to Dr. Rosenbloom's singular obsession - ancient or lost civilizations. Amy was stunned by the sheer number and variety of them. Books on the Ancestral Pueblo People and the Minoans and the Olmecs sat beside ones on more fanciful lost civilizations like El Dorado. Two whole shelves were filled with nothing but books on Atlantis.

We've definitely come to the right place, Amy thought.

"Atticus! Jakey!" Dr. Rosenbloom appeared at the office's back door, beaming. He threw his arms open and gathered his sons into his chest, glowing with joy. Amy had to admit that Dr. Rosenbloom was quite something. He was a perfect mixture of Jake and Atticus. He had the broad shoulders and square jaw of an athlete but the unkempt clothes and the thick-rimmed gla.s.ses of a globe-trotting slob/genius.

The best thing of all was how much he clearly loved his sons. Amy felt a twinge deep in her chest. She looked at Dan and guessed from the dark, focused look on his face as he watched them that he was feeling the same thing. A real parent. Something they'd had for such a short time.

Dr. Rosenbloom swept stacks of books and papers off the chairs in his office and sat the boys down. He had two paper sacks in hand and set them on his desk.

"Okay! First things first, I grabbed us some lunch. Tajine malsouka! This is going to blow your minds, guys. It's like a chicken pie made with phyllo dough. My friend Amina makes it."

Jake and Atticus shared an amused look. Their dad always had a woman friend who was making him things to eat. Dr. Rosenbloom opened the bag and pulled out what looked like thick pieces of pie wrapped in waxed paper. The office filled with the smells of spicy chicken and warm bread. Amy had to grab on to Dan's shoulder to keep him from busting through the door and into the room.

"So tell me everything!" Dr. Rosenbloom said through a mouthful of pie. "How's school?"

"Good!" Atticus said, maybe a little too quickly. "The independent study is going really well."

"Awesome," Dr. Rosenbloom said. "Harvard won't know what hit them when you get there. What brings you guys from Rome, though? I'm happy you came, of course, but it's such short notice. Is everything all right?"

"Fine!" Jake said. "We just wanted to see you. And Atticus had some questions. About his independent study."

"Happy to help. What is it?"

"Well, I'm looking at agriculture," Atticus said. "Particularly the major Roman crops and who produced them outside of Italy."

"Fascinating topic."

Dan rolled his eyes and Amy elbowed him hard in the side.

"It is," Atticus continued. "But I keep coming across one crop that I can't find much about. Silphium."

Dr. Rosenbloom nodded eagerly, swallowing a mouthful. "Mmm. Well, that's probably because there's not much anyone can say. It was one of the biggest and most sought after crops of its time, which was about the seventh century B.C. to the first century A.D. The Romans said it was worth its weight in silver."

"So what did it do?" Jake asked.

Dr. Rosenbloom laughed. "Everything, apparently. People used it as a seasoning in their food and as a general-purpose remedy. Cured just about anything you could name. Or so they said. Here, guys, have some more."

Dr. Rosenbloom loaded Jake and Atticus up with fresh slices of pie.

"Well, if it was so great, how did it go extinct?" Jake asked. "Why didn't people just grow more?"

"No one really knows," Dr. Rosenbloom said, leaning back and brushing crumbs off of his rumpled tie. "Maybe they went through it too fast and then there was a crop failure. Some people said it only grew wild and couldn't be cultivated, but that seems unlikely."

"Was it grown here in Carthage?"

"Carthage?" Dr. Rosenbloom asked. "No, the main grower was Cyrene if I remember correctly. That's Libya today. It's close by but I don't remember reading anything about it being grown here. Why?"

"Just part of the project," Atticus said quickly. "Kind of like a scavenger hunt. We're supposed to try and find some, and my adviser thought we could try here."

"A scavenger hunt? For something that doesn't exist? Atticus, that's a total waste of your time. Who's your adviser? I should call and straighten him out."

Dr. Rosenbloom reached back to a phone on his desk.

"No!" Atticus said. "It's fine. Really." Atticus jumped up to stop his dad, and when he did Olivia's notebook fell out of his hand and onto the table.

"What's this?"

"Nothing! It's just -"

Amy suppressed a gasp as Dr. Rosenbloom took the notebook off the table and opened it.

"Really," Jake said. "It's not anything. Just -"

Jake stopped. An almost physical transformation came over Dr. Rosenbloom as he read. His soft and bright features turned a hard, ashy gray. Amy started forward, but Dan held her back.

"I thought you said you came because you wanted to see me," Dr. Rosenbloom said with a dark frown.

"Dad . . ." Jake started.

"Olivia CAHILL!?" he shouted, brandishing the notebook in their faces. "I told you I didn't want you getting involved with the Cahills ever again."

"We're not. We're just -"

"Don't lie to me, Jake!"

Dr. Rosenbloom's shout echoed in the small office.

"We told them we'd see what we could find out about the silphium," Atticus said. "That's all."

"You've seen the stories about them in the papers," Dr. Rosenbloom said. "On TV. Is that what you want to be a part of? You want to be famous?"

"Those stories aren't true!" Atticus protested.

"Think about your future, Atticus. And Jake's. I know you think Amy and Dan are your friends, but if they were, they wouldn't let you get involved in these things." He held up the notebook between them. "The Cahills don't care about anybody but themselves and their stupid games, and they never have!"

Amy fell back from the door, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could block it out, but his words were like knives tearing into her. There was a thump as Dr. Rosenbloom threw Olivia's notebook onto the tabletop.

"They're not games," Jake cried. "This is important, and Amy and Dan -"

Jake suddenly went quiet, and Amy looked back into the room. Olivia's notebook was lying open on the desk and Dr. Rosenbloom was leaning over it, completely absorbed in something inside that had caught his eye. Dr. Rosenbloom drew the book off the counter and into his lap, flipping quickly through the pages.

"Dad?" Atticus said.

Dr. Rosenbloom held up one hand and turned another page. The lines of hurt fell away and his face took on the same diamond-like focus that Atticus had when he was reading.

"Not possible," Dr. Rosenbloom muttered to himself, shaking his head. "It's not possible."

"What isn't possible?" Jake asked. "Dad!"

"It was right under my nose the whole time!"

Jake reached across the desk and shook his father's arm, forcing him to emerge from the book. Dr. Rosenbloom snapped it shut. "I want you two on a plane back to Rome."

Jake started to protest but Dr. Rosenbloom shut him down. "No discussion. You two leave tonight, and call me as soon as you get in."

"But what did you read?" Jake asked as his father tore through the room, filling a messy briefcase with papers and stacks of books from his shelves.

"Tonight, Jake!"

Dr. Rosenbloom threw on a jacket and headed toward the door. Amy and Dan jumped forward, hiding behind the door as Dr. Rosenbloom threw it open and hit the hall at a run. His footsteps clattered down the hallway past his astonished coworkers. Papers flew out of his half-closed briefcase. A door at the end of the hall flew open and he was gone.

Jake and Atticus joined Dan and Amy in the now silent hallway.

"Uh . . . guys?" Dan said. "What the heck was that?"

"No idea," Atticus said, visibly shaken. "I've never seen him get like that before."

"You three better go back to the hotel," Amy said. "Dig into the notebook and figure out what he saw. It has to be important."

"What are you going to do?" Dan asked.

"Head to the Carthage ruins. There's a museum there, too. Maybe I can learn some more."

"I'll go with you," Jake said.

"No," Amy said quickly, already rushing down the hall. "You stay here and help the others."

"But, Amy -"

Amy threw open the double doors, stumbling into the bright heat of Tunis. She made it around the side of the building and out of sight before collapsing with her back against a wall. She was surprised to find her breath coming fast and her heart pounding. Dr. Rosenbloom's words echoed in her head. The Cahills don't care about anybody but themselves.

Behind her, the doors to the library opened and voices filled the courtyard. Dan and Jake and Atticus. Amy pushed herself away from the wall and disappeared down the streets of Tunis.

Cara Pierce stepped into the dojo as the clock struck noon. Her brother, Galt, stood across from her, barefoot in his black uniform and black belt. He snapped into a fighting stance with a snarl.

The dojo was s.p.a.cious, with clean white walls and a polished floor of blond wood. A weapons rack holding bamboo swords, staffs, and nunchakus sat along one wall. Up in a high corner, a single black video camera swiveled back and forth. Cara knew her father was at his desk, watching on a monitor. When they were done, he would descend and give the winner a reward.

When they were kids, the reward for Galt and Cara's weekly sparring matches was ice cream or a new toy, but as they got older the winner received an extra helping of their father's most prized, most h.o.a.rded possession - his time. The winner sat in his meetings, listened to his plans, helped him conspire. The loser was shut out.

Of course, sometimes Cara wasn't sure what she wanted more - her father's favor or to wipe the vicious smirk off of her brother's face.

Cara dropped into her own stance, but before she could make a move there was a blur of movement followed by a crunching impact to her jaw. The world flipped and Cara found herself on her back. She cursed herself for her distraction and leaped back to her feet. She managed a quick roundhouse kick that connected with Galt's side but he flashed away.

Galt had always been fast and strong, but in the last few weeks, he seemed to border on inhuman. One minute he was safely on her left, and then without warning he was on her right, sending a punch flying toward her temple. Cara got a few punches in but they came more and more infrequently while Galt bounced back from them faster every time.

Always, out of the corner of her eye, she could see that black camera tracking them.

Cara spun away from another crushing blow. Along with her father's favors came the lectures. Survival of the fittest is what he always said. Winners rose to the top through hard work and G.o.d-given talent. And losers? All they were good for was doing the bidding of the winners.

Cara had an idea. Instead of circling away from Galt as their sensei had taught, she slid straight back from him, dodging a flurry of blows. Galt growled as he came at her, working himself into a frenzy, his eyes ablaze.

That's right, Cara thought. Keep coming. You may be strong and fast, but it's time to see which one of us is smart.

Cara slowed and let him land a right on her side. It was like taking a freight train in the ribs. Cara stifled a scream and responded with a worthless punch and then a side kick that went nowhere. Galt laughed and landed a stunning combination. Right left right. Straight kick. Roundhouse. Cara's breath left her in a rush and she went down in a heap.

Galt stood before her, hands on his hips, self-satisfied grin flashing. Cara crawled over to the weapons rack and grabbed the top rail. She slowly pulled herself up, finally making it to her knees and draping her arms over the lip of the wooden rack. She didn't have to fake it now. Every inch of her body throbbed with pain.

Galt sauntered over, reveling in the opportunity to mock her. "Need some help there, sis?"

Cara looked over her shoulder. The black surveillance camera in the corner was right on them. Galt was holding out his hand, c.o.c.ky smile burning. Cara smiled right back.