The FBI had taken the dumpster, not Otokotronics like we’d thought. Summers was threatening to send Mom back to the other world, and—duh—she needed a portal to do it. But without this dumpster, Summers couldn’t open its portal and extradite anyone, now could she? And if her leverage was gone, we could even leave town. It’s not like she was helping us much anyway. Plus, Otokotronics needed a portal to transit the Talisman and start their migration.
A tinge of hope bubbled inside as we climbed the fence, the chain-link rough on my fingers. But I froze when I spotted a security camera tucked into the ductwork on the parking garage ceiling—until the nearby fluorescents flickered and the camera’s red light just … winked out.
My arm hair stood on end. Was someone … hacking into this building’s security? Or was this just a convenient side effect of the portal, maybe electromagnetic interference?
Matt recovered his phone from the dumpster’s railing and thumbed the screen. “Hell yeah.”
I craned over his cast. “I can’t believe that thing has any juice left.”
He rubbed the phone on his jeans, shoving hair from his eyes. “I’m pretty happy with my extended battery purchase about now. Huh, bunch of missed calls from some random number. Only, super weird … No reception now.”
Weird was right. The camera was still off, no others in sight. “So, uh, what do you think about destroying the dumpster?”
Matt’s head snapped up. “What, why? And how?”
I brushed a hand against the steel, smooth and cold, neat bullet holes from that alley gunfight dimpling the side. “With the Iriguchi. Summers said something about our last portal. She can’t send my mom back to the other world without it, and Otokotronics won’t be able to transit the Talisman to their world either. We destroy this dumpster, that could be it.” Texting guy would have to wait.
“What makes you think the portal is even working?”
“The FBI wouldn’t’ve bothered bringing it here and chaining it up if it was dead. I swear, Matt, they’re gonna use it to transit my mother.” I pushed down a twinge of doubt—that voice telling me to find a cell signal and get ahold of Mom first. But we weren’t going to get a second chance at this if we waited. “This building is empty for the weekend. As far as we know, it’s just Summers way upstairs and an old lady at the front desk who’s not even FBI. You didn’t see anyone while you were waiting, right?”
Matt cast a worried look at the door to the lobby. “This is a bad idea. You don’t even know this is how you destroy a portal.”
“But we’re trying anyway, right? We’re not gonna find the Talisman by tomorrow." My belly was doing backflips. "We’re out of options here.”
His expression darkened. “You remember earlier, when I was talking about me enabling you?”
I set my jaw and swept the hand cannon from beneath my hoodie. “I’ll walk away right now if you say so. Hand to God. But if we take care of this dumpster, we’re done, at least with our part. My mom and Laramee can deal with Athleisure. Summers will be pissed, sure. But she doesn’t have jurisdiction here. And you know what she won’t do? Send my mom back. Because there won’t be a portal anymore.”
“Otokotronics will still be out there.”
“In the other world—with no way to activate their bots in this one. This portal is the key to everything. Please. Matt. I need your help. One last time.”
Every line of his body was fixed, his eyes like cinders. "Fine.” The quiet vehemence in his voice made my skin prickle. “But then this better be it.” He backed up, giving me and the dumpster a wide berth.
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Thank you. One way or another, this would be over soon. Maybe with us in handcuffs. I released the death grip on my hoodie and flicked on the Iriguchi, its soft glow a comfort in my hand. Then I spun the mode dial to the single dot symbol, leveled the gun at the dumpster, and pulsed the trigger.
The familiar kick shook my arms. Roaring gas bloomed from the muzzle, thunderous in the confined space, the air thick with ozone and hot metal.
The cloud dissipated to reveal an intact dumpster—and a hole drilled clear through the concrete pillar behind it.
Heat spread in my cheeks. “Damn it.”
“You want me to—” Matt started.
I ground my teeth, spun the mode dial to the solid line, and pulsed again, sweeping the weapon back and forth. This time, the echoing roar assaulted my eardrums as billowing gas obscured my vision. When the smoke cleared, the rim of the dumpster was obliterated—as were portions of the fence and the pillars around it. The chain that had secured the dumpster clanged to the ground.
I gaped at the damage, my heart racing. The Iriguchi was almost too hot to hold. I pulsed the trigger again and the gun just … clicked, a sad uh oh sound chiming. Shit. I’d moved too slowly. All I’d done was eat through the dumpster’s rim. We needed to get out of here now. Only I wasn’t leaving a working portal behind.
The ominous buzz of radio chatter drifted from behind the lobby door.
Sweat ran down my neck. Patricia had heard the Iriguchi and was wisely hanging back.
"What're we gonna do?" Panic tinged Matt's voice.
My mind whirred, my fingers adjusting on the hand cannon. The dumpster just sat there, unmoved, almost like a petulant child.
“We’re taking it."
Stealing from the other world’s FBI was, on its face, crazy. But I didn’t see other options. Summers was turning the screws. Athleisure and Otokotronics were circling. And whoever Patricia was calling would be here soon. There would be time for hand-wringing later—maybe from a jail cell.
Matt tilted his head. “I’m trying to be all supportive because this is about your mom and everything … but what?”
My mind flashed to that Sharpie graffiti in the diner bathroom, sharks swimming in the bay. If I couldn’t destroy the portal, the next best thing was making it inaccessible. It could buy us enough time to find our texter and the Talisman. “We dump it in the bay.”
Matt folded his arms. “So, what? Rent a flatbed?”
“We’re here now. This is our chance. We push the dumpster out of the garage on those tiny wheels. By hand. Then … you think you can give it a tow?”
“I might have something to hitch it in the—”
“Great.” I trotted to the roll-up door at the exit and slammed the button beside it. The thrum of a motor kicked in and the door inched up, afternoon sun slanting in as I raced back to the dumpster. Matt and his scowl were already braced against it, a shoulder and one castless hand. As we strained to edge it forward, the fence bent back and we gained momentum, angling to clear the entrance—our stolen dumpster rolling into brilliant sunshine.
A sloping alley threaded between this building and the next, but we had to get the dumpster somewhere Matt could maneuver his RV. Sweat beaded on my temples as we pushed downslope, Matt’s breath hot on my cheek.
I lengthened my stride and the dumpster picked up speed, my leg screaming in protest. “Hey, slow your roll,” I shouted. “I can’t run that fast.”
“I’m not pushing,” Matt said breathlessly, trotting beside me with wide eyes.
The dumpster rattled ever faster, barreling downhill between buildings. Panic welling, I grasped at the rails. “Fuck, Matt. Help me stop it!”
He lurched forward, scrabbling at the escaping dumpster. But even with the two of us tugging, we couldn’t slow it down. Soon, I was running just to keep up, trying not to double over with pain. In a last-ditch effort, I sprinted all-out and leapt, hooking my fingers on the ragged rim, somehow pulling myself up and over—before tumbling into a pile of rapidly accelerating trash.
“Ko!” Matt yelled, his voice receding. “What the hell are you doing?”
Everything rumbled. Pain spiked from my bad tooth. A blur of brick and glass sped past. “Not letting the dumpster get away,” I shouted, drawing in a lungful of wet cardboard stink.
“And how’s that working out for you?” he roared, further away now.
So helpful. Just as I struggled to my feet, my boots spun out from under me, the rending of metal reverberating through the dumpster. I drifted downstreet before crunching softly to a stop.
Cold metal pressed against my face, a pile of bags around me. The hand to my forehead came away wet. I groaned, pushing up, a damp pain throbbing in my side.
A siren keened in the distance, and I knew it came for me.