The Architect by Jonathan Starrett

Author:Jonathan Starrett [Starrett, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUVENILE FICTION / Religious / Christian / Action & Adventure, JUVENILE FICTION / Religious / Christian / Mysteries & Detective Stories
ISBN: 9781496466631
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers
Published: 2023-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

A SHRIEK PIERCED THE SILENCE of the metro station as the Architect’s train rushed in. The doors opened, flooding the darkness with smoky light, and J. W. stormed out carrying the film reel he’d obtained from the factory. Sneed followed at a sluggish pace.

“Look alive, Four-Eyes!” J. W. barked. “We’ve got to get ahold of this Architect right away. Find Charlie Crane, too. And play this film! Lickety-split, Four-Eyes. You wouldn’t happen to have a projector somewhere in this hole, would ya?”

Sneed hid his eyes under his sagging brow and shrugged his shoulders. He couldn’t bring himself to speak.

J. W. frowned. “Wonderful, Sneed. About as useful as a pair of lead shoes in a swimming pool. See here, we’ve got the jump on ’em now, and I aim to keep it that way.”

They watched the train pull away, breathing a cloud of white smoke across the platform, and Sneed stared into the smoke without an expression. “I should never have stepped on that train,” he muttered as they walked away.

J. W. approached the radio and flipped the switches back and forth. “How’s that? Sneed, help me work this thing.”

Sneed didn’t budge. “I should’ve known I would see something I could never unsee.”

“Blah, blah, blah. You ain’t gonna mope your troubles away, son. Cut out the navel-gazin’ and help me get this radio on!”

The freight elevator rattled out of the ceiling and started its descent into the metro station. J. W. staggered back and forth, torn between the radio and the elevator. Sneed noticed too, and knew the visitor must be Claud. His posture sank even lower.

J. W. looked at the tarp that had been hiding the radio. Sneed’s remote control was sitting on top of it. The director picked up the remote and slapped it into Sneed’s gut, then pulled the tarp around him, hesitating in front of Sneed.

“I was never here,” he whispered to Sneed. “And we certainly didn’t go to any Memoricide factory.”

Sneed gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him in close. “She was looking right at me, J. W.”

“What? Who?”

“The girl in the yellow dress!” said Sneed, his eyes glistening.

J. W. squeezed his eyebrows together. “Get ahold of yourself, Four-Eyes! No time for reminiscing! Remember, you were down here all by yourself, pretending to have friends or whatever it is you do. Good? Good!” Macaw shoved the film reel up into his own armpit, tiptoed to the Memoricide crates, and disappeared under the tarp.

A moment later the freight elevator clanked down onto the platform, and Claud Von Claude, growling curses, stepped off and bounded into the station.

“Sneed! I need you to pinpoint Charlie Crane’s location.”

Claud strode the length of the platform militantly, passing Sneed and swiveling on his heels, so close to J. W.’s hiding spot that the director could have caught Claud’s cape between his teeth. Sneed did not adopt Claud’s sense of urgency, nor was he especially concerned about J. W. He only stared at the tips of his shoes.

“What the blazes are you waiting for? A ‘pretty please with sugar on top’? Give me that.

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