Against All Odds by Natale Ghent Page A

the sort of thing one finds in a store.”
    Boney nudged him in the ribs. “Take your earplugs out.”
    “Huh?”
    “Your earplugs!” Boney yelled. “Take them out!”
    “Oh, right.” Squeak flushed as he pulled the plugs from his ears, stuffing them into his pants pocket. He cleared his throat, speaking in a normal voice. “I said that’s not the sort of thing you buy in a store. Did you build it?”
    “Yes.” Samantha handed the device to Squeak so he could take a closer look.
    “How does it work?” Boney asked.
    “It emits pulses that interfere with alien frequencies.”
    Boney pulled on his chin as he considered this. “How did you know we’d be dealing with aliens here? For all we knew, this could have been some kind of secret government project.”
    “What are you implying?” Samantha placed her hands on her hips.
    Squeak shot Boney an irritated look. “Obviously, she did her research and came prepared—not like some people I know.” He turned his back on his friend andexamined the Disruptor. “Impressive piece of work.” He handed the device back to Samantha, who replaced it in her bag.
    “It’s just a prototype,” she said.
    Boney stepped onto the train rail and began balancing his way toward home, Squeak and Samantha walking beside him. “So … you knew about the warehouse and the … um …” He snapped his fingers, searching for the right word.
    “Clones,” Samantha said. “I believe that’s the word you’re looking for.”
    “Clones,” Squeak echoed. He paused. “How strange they should decide to reproduce Itchy …”
    “Who’s ‘they’?” Boney asked.
    “The aliens,” Squeak said, as though it were common knowledge now.
    Samantha tossed her hair. “It may not be as strange as you think. They usually look for … impressionable personalities to do their work.”
    Boney turned to her. “Are you saying Itchy’s dumb?”
    Samantha stared at him. “I didn’t say that.”
    “She didn’t say that,” Squeak jumped in.
    “They just find it easier to work with
suggestible
types,” Samantha said.
    Boney frowned. “How do you know all this? And who are
they,
exactly?” He stepped off the tracks andpushed through the bushes into his backyard. “What could they possibly hope to achieve by cloning Itchy? He may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he would never do anything to hurt anyone.”
    Squeak squeezed through the bushes after Boney. “Why did the clones chase us then?”
    “They’ve likely been programmed to respond to threatening situations,” Samantha said, following Squeak through the hole in the hedge. “When they saw Boney banging on the window, they probably perceived him as a threat to the safety of their project and attacked.”
    Boney shook his head. “I don’t get it. What good is it to send a giant group of clones out in the world to do your bidding? They’ll just get caught.”
    “They don’t go around in a group. They hunt alone to avoid suspicion.” Samantha reached into her bag and pulled out a copy of the local newspaper as proof, flapping it open to the photo of the Itchy clone stealing the doughnuts. “See … only one clone caught on camera.”
    Squeak considered the photo. “What about the police? They were looking for Itchy earlier.”
    Samantha nodded. “They caught him.”
    “What?”
    “Not Itchy,” Samantha said. “One of the clones. I saw them grab it when I was running toward the traintracks. It put up a big fight, but they managed to handcuff it and get it in the cruiser.”
    “What’s going to happen to it?” Boney asked.
    “They’ll probably put it in jail.” Samantha tucked her hair behind her ears.
    Boney’s shoulders slumped. “This is so crazy.” He kicked a stone as he walked to the ladder at the base of the oak tree.
    Squeak pointed to a sign newly affixed to the side of the clubhouse. “Uhhh … what’s that?”
    Boney and Samantha stared at the sign. The words were painted in big black