Chapter 21p2 – What’s He Doing Here?

“Dunter?” said Tic. “What’s he doing here?”

“Forget him,” said Overard, running past. “Milly’s through this way!”

Dunter shook his head ruefully. “You might be able to get them out fast enough, but this timer isn’t counting upwards! It might still be possible to disarm it, though.”

“And we’d need to let you free to accomplish that, right?” sneered Overard. “Like we can’t see through that ploy!”

Dunter shrugged. “I never said I could disarm it. Dr. Fester there might be able to. He helped design this monstrosity, after all.”

“What?” said Tic. “Doc, is that true?”

Dr. Fester’s bony shoulders drooped, and he wheezed half-heartedly.

“Gloria sure wasn’t happy when he stopped cooperating!” continued Dunter. “But the Leons were still playing along, especially after Gloria told them we’d captured their daughter, so we were still able to go on without him.”

“Wait, the Leons?” said Tic. “Milly’s parents? They helped build this thing, too?”

“A real group effort.” Dunter sighed. “I should’ve known this would all turn against me somehow. A word of advice, Bolter: don’t fall in with villains, or soon enough you’ll become one! Then they betray you and lock you to your own prototype acid bomb…”

“Tic, we’re wasting time here,” said Overard. “I can’t work both of the lock overrides myself; it takes two people.”

“He’s right,” said Dunter. “If you blast through this chain for me, I could help him…”

“No way,” said Tic. “I don’t want you running off just yet! If you play nice, maybe we’ll take you with us on our way out. Mak, let’s go get those people. Doc, if you think you can disarm this thing—”

Dr. Fester was already kneeling with a piece of chalk, madly scrawling formulae across the floor.

About Tim Sevenhuysen

Tim Sevenhuysen writes sci-fi and other genre fiction. He is a microfiction expert, having written over 600 fifty-word stories. He is also a noncertifiable lunatic.

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