To Outwit an Angel

24. Rob's Game Boy Could Never With This Boss Battle

Sharlene's POV:

It all happened too quickly. Before Lori and I could blockade the arcade's door, the Phantom broke in. Not like we could have barricaded the window entrance anyway, so any hope of stopping him was futile. If only I still had Madame Giry's pocketknife. I had dropped it before jumping off the roof, but judging by the familiar papaya in the Phantom's grasp, it was possible to carry things between dimensions.

 "Hide!" I hissed.

 Lori's mind was always a little different than most people's. Instead of ducking behind the closest arcade game like any sensible person, she darted for the more distant roller-rink and concealed herself between the shelves of skates. Meanwhile, I hid between two different games.

 "You can't hide forever!"

 The Phantom's booming voice thundered through the cavernous warehouse. We were screwed. My mind tumulted over each horrific possibility. Would he kill us? Bring us back to Paris? With his secrecy, his motives were so unclear. Anything was technically possible. He might want Lori in France with him. But me? I was good as dead.

 I closed my eyes, desperate to shut down my racing mind. When would this nightmare end? But this was no nightmare; this was reality, where I couldn't just wake up in a cold sweat and crawl into my mother's bed like a petrified child.

 And, suddenly, I was feeling all my miniscule eighteen years against this massive threat.

 Lori's shriek awakened me to reality.

 Her and that stupid hiding place! Clenching a fistful of her ginger hair, the Phantom yanked her up from behind the shelf of skates. Before I could consider the wisdom in my plan, I leaped into action. Charging for the Phantom, I shoved him away from Lori. His grip on her loosened, yes, but he ensnared me worse than I could have imagined.

 Sharp pain cut through my throat, knocking the air out of my lungs. What the hell? Had he slit my throat?

 No. That death would be too quick. Too merciful. I hadn't noticed it, but he'd been holding a cord this whole time, likely picked up from his walk beside the arcade machines. Now, this cord twisted around my neck, shallowing each of my labored inhales.

 "Your friend really is excellent bait, Mademoiselle Murphy," his cruel voice sent shivers down my spine, "and now you've so seamlessly become my bait for her. But it's exactly like you to jump into a plan you've barely considered. You've done it ever since embarrassing yourself at the seventh grade talent show, haven't you? Probably, you've behaved that way even longer, but that's when your propensity for it really struck me."

 "What the hell are you talking about?" I gasped.

 The seventh grade talent show had been traumatizing. Its existence had slipped my notice until the very last minute, but like the spotlight-hungry kid I'd been, I participated anyway. Only the night before, I arranged and practiced my song. 'Stop' by the Spice Girls, complete with original choreography.

 Turns out, I'd been coming down with a cold anyway, but the lack of practice hadn't helped my hoarse, out-of-tune vocals.

 But why was the Phantom referencing this? I wanted to take that embarrassment to my grave, so he couldn't have overheard me talking about it.

 His laugh made me want to vomit, with the visceral dread it poured over me.

 "You senseless girl. I was there that day. I've watched you and Mademoiselle Clark grow up. How else would I know she was the perfect candidate to bring into my world? Pity her attention-grabbing chit of a friend managed to tag along with her. But now—" What little breath I had was choked from my throat, as he tightened the cord. "Now, we arrive at our final choice."