Unexpected Consequences

14. Peter Gets Attacked by Two Animals in One Day

IF RORY WERE here, he would be ecstatic. From where I sat on the roof, I could see the festivities down below: kids jumping along on inflatable slides and mazes, concessions stands floundering with demands, and an unholy amount of crumbs and bits of food getting dropped onto the ground. There were plenty of birds—maybe Rory was down there, after all, pecking away at the remains of an unfortunate hot dog.

There were so many annual festivals that keeping up with them by name was impossible; whichever one this was, it had a big turnout, and since I just so happened to be on patrol at the same time, I thought I would watch. If any sort of crime needed stopping today, it would probably be here.

And of course I got cotton candy, too, because why not?

I fiddled with the cone, pushing in the pointy end and popping it back out as I watched. I felt a little uneasy—and it wasn't because of all the sugar. For all the music and laughter and security checkpoints, I couldn't help but think that, if Lex was in the mood for another one of his showy spectacles, this would be the perfect time and place. He'd spin his grand wheel of options and land on something devastating and annoyingly well-thought out.

A strange buzzing noise pulled me back into reality. I swatted at my ears, thinking it must've been a mosquito or a bee, but there were no such insects anywhere near me. It was my super-hearing, the power I couldn't manage to get a good grasp on, that was picking up the buzzing.

I stood up and looked around, cupping my hands behind my ears, trying to pinpoint the source. It was actually less of a buzz and more of a gentle whirring sound, like the smooth spinning of fan blades.

There was a drone flying a few streets away at the same height as the building I was on. It might've been a police drone, as an extra security measure, but it was too perfectly swift and sleek, never going close to the fair, where the cops would have sent it if it was theirs. Instead it went down one street, did a 360, and went down another, pausing for an extra second by the Henderson Tech building before continuing its zig-zag path. I tilted my head and watched silently as an aggravated bird ruffled its wings, went near the drone, and started attacking it.

Blades and birds? Not a good match. There was a small spark and a screech, and both of them lost their ability to stay in flight.

I started running immediately and leapt off the edge and into the air, catching the damaged drone in one hand and gently grabbing the bird with the other. It ruffled its wings indignantly, squirming in my grasp as I landed safely on the next building. I set the drone down and lifted the bird's wing; a little bloody, and I gently ran my thumb over the cut. There was an animal hospital a few blocks down from here; would they be mad if I brought in a street pigeon?

The bird was fine, though, because after a few tentative little hops, it spread its wings and flew at my face. I moved to the side just in time to avoid having my eyes clawed out, and it took off into the sky, a little unsteady but okay.

"You're welcome," I deadpanned.

I picked up the drone, turning it over in my hands, careful to keep the camera pointed away from me. There was a feather and a stick (which the bird must've been carrying) jamming one of the three propellers, but I didn't take it out just yet, choosing to eye the details more. The drone had a screen with the words operation paused written in bold, white letters against a black background. The machine itself was plain black with silver edges, no L logo on it anywhere, but that didn't mean it couldn't be Lex's—maybe he was trying to be more inconspicuous. Maybe I was just paranoid.

I took a tracker disc, a smaller, practically weightless, new and improved one Jenny gave me just before Chicago, and jammed it into a ridge. Whoever owned the drone probably wouldn't notice, at least not without doing a thorough check over the machine. I took the feather and the stick out and bent the blade back into proper shape. There was a faint whirring noise as the words operation paused were replaced by running diagnostics, and at the same time the blades started to spin, the screen switched over to operation running.