Even I would have to sleep eventually. The solution was obviously to get the detonator somewhere…no. Wait. It was a deadman’s.
If the signal went out, the bombs would go off. I stopped, stood there, breathing and trying to think. I’d bought time. I hadn’t solved the problem. In fact, the only way to fix it right now was for somebody to go find and defuse every one of the bombs they’d planted. I had no idea how to do that.
Unless the detonator itself gave a clue. Maybe through its signals. I pulled out my phone with my other hand and tried to dial Kanesha. It wasn’t easy with one hand, even with speed dial.
She didn’t answer, and that sense of her being in danger increased.
I swore. I was trapped in an inescapable situation. Well, not entirely. I tried Seb and Mike. No response there either.
So? I tried the next button on my phone. Prue. “Prue. I have a problem. A big one.”
“What’s up?”
“Uh…I can explain, but if you’ll come to the Lincoln Memorial with duct tape it would be really helpful.”
“Duct…tape?”
“Please.”
“Alright.”
She hung up and I just stood there, ducking behind some trees and hoping they’d pick the wrong place to look. If I moved too far, Prue wouldn’t be able to find me. If I stayed here, they certainly would.
I could barely breathe, but then Prue came running. “Oh, thank goodness.”
“What…the heck?”
“I managed to get it away from the bad guy, but if I release it, then spirit bombs go off all over the city.”
“Oh…you do…” She moved to carefully tape down the switch. “…know how to make enemies.”
“Wasn’t aimed at me. This time. Kanesha and Seb were dealing with their base and rescuing Clara, but they’ve gone off the grid.”
Prue used worse language than I had. “Time to call in the cavalry.”
“Any cavalry I call in is vulnerable to the bombs.” I let out a breath. “I have to do this myself.”
“I’m with you.”
I looked at her. “No offense, Prue, but you’re a kitchen witch. Not a fighter.”
“I’m still with you. Now…”
“We hide this. We hide this really well. I think Clara can use it to find the bombs when we get her back. And…do you have a gun?”
Grimly, she nodded.
This wasn’t ideal, but it was what I had. And I sensed, somehow, that my mother approved.