Luna on the Run (The Carmsborough Vigilantes #1)

Chapter 19

Do I feel guilty leaving Ike locked in the basement of a looming museum all alone, betraying whatever bond we'd been building?

Yeah, a little. But I was never gonna let him be the one to take Slaphand down. Whatever Ike has against him, I'm sure it's not as powerful as my own personal vendetta.

This man has been responsible for so much pain in my life. So much loss, agony, heartbreak, and hardship. Being thrown onto the street when Mom died was his fault. Suffering on Blood Moon Island was his fault. Having Freckles torn from my arms was his fault. Mary's death is as much his fault as my own, seeing as he's the one that put us there in the first place.

And I intend to make sure he hears my complaints.

I haven't decided how I'm gonna do it yet. I'd re-pocketed both knives and pistols while Ike was fetching the motorcycle, but I honestly think I'd accept drowning him in the freezing ocean, like he nearly did to me during our first encounter.

But I can't get cocky. If I've learned anything, it's that he's strong and he's slippery. He'd just as quickly crush me like a grape as he would run away.

Not this time. Not today.

A nearby clock tower chimes its bells, signaling the arrival of midnight. I'm not even sure what day that makes this anymore. The twenty-eighth? The twenty-ninth? Either way, Bijabers and the citizens of Carmsborough will remember it as the day Slaphand was defeated and the streets were safer.

I check a few more doors for the staircase to the main floor and find it on my third attempt. It isn't even locked. What's in the locked rooms that are more important than the rest of the museum?

No time to focus on that.

The stairs are a short but suspenseful climb to the granite- and marble-floored lobby of the museum. Let's hope Ike was right and that we don't need to worry about the cameras. I'd rather not be shot halfway across the museum because I was spotted on tape.

My steps echo against the wide halls, clacking satisfyingly on the rock flooring. I pass through an Ancient Rome exhibit featuring wax figures with rectangular shields and pointed metal spears. A few empty boxes line the edges of the displays, waiting to be filled.

Or were recently emptied. I'm not sure.

I move on, and sure enough, there are more boxes in this exhibit, this time in various stages of being loaded or unloaded. If I had to guess, they're stealing as much as they can. It brings an extra eeriness to the already dismal museum in the dead of night.

I walk into the third exhibit, but stop immediately, adrenaline sparking at the tips of my fingers. One of Slaphand's henchmen is staring at me, but not making any notion of attacking.

"Why aren't you coming after me?" I ask, clenching and unclenching my fists.

"We have direct orders not to."

"What?"

"He wants you to meet him in the Industrial Revolution exhibit."

The man points in the direction I'm headed. I move that way, confused, but keep my eyes on him until he's out of sight. That was the weirdest interaction I think I've ever had.

I come face to face with two more of his guards in the next exhibit, focused on the dinosaurs of Carmsborough, of which there were very few. They also stare, cross-armed, as I walk past. This is beginning to feel more and more like a trap. Do I care? If I knew I was taking a one-way trip to trap town, would I still keep walking?

At last, I arrive at the Industrial Revolution exhibit. Being one of the most impactful events in history for the country, it has its own mini museum inside of the actual museum to showcase the things that happened.