Free The Supernaturalist by Eoin Colfer

defendant,’ he said, levelling a lightning rod. ‘You have the right to get seriously messed up if you attempt to flee.’
    Ditto’s eyes were wide. A perfect imitation of an innocent six-year-old.
    ‘Seriously messed up? But, sir, I’m a minor.’
    The lawyer sniggered. ‘Not by the time your case gets to court.’
    ‘I object,’ said Ditto, headbutting his adversary in the stomach. The stunned lawyer tumbled through the holein the floor, only his abseiling cord preventing him from plummeting to earth.
    Stefan and Mona were already on the roof.
    ‘Move it, you two. We’ve got choppers coming in.’
    It was a kaleidoscope of chaos. Different crises swirled into Cosmo’s vision and out again before he could deal with any of them. Lethal lawyers and a belligerent Bartoli Baby. Life-sucking Parasites and now helicopters. All because they were trying to help people. Wasn’t there someone they could tell?
    Cosmo scrambled up the bridge on to the rooftop. The night sky was alive with converging choppers. Dozens of searchlights strobed the building. Most were TV birds. Disasters were big news. Even small ones like this would be sure to headline every bulletin.
    Mona and Stefan were crouched by the lip of the Stromberg Building. Stefan took a shockproof walkie-talkie from his belt, switching the volume setting to high. He threw the radio on to an adjacent building.
    ‘We need a bridge,’ said Stefan. ‘Mona?’
    ‘Not me. I already put down three. I’m almost out of gas.’
    ‘Ditto?’
    ‘Same here.’
    Stefan kneaded his forehead. ‘Cosmo. Bridge. Now.’
    ‘Me?’
    ‘No time like the present. No one else has enough juice for a big gap. And there isn’t time to switch canisters.’
    The rookie Supernaturalist lifted his bridge from its rack on his back. It seemed simple enough: stand on the bar, shoot the nose out and guide it with the cable. Simple enough. Not as easy as falling off a building, but easier than threading a needle with spaghetti.
    He stood on the bar.
    ‘Put your heel behind it,’ advised Mona. ‘Use your weight as an anchor.’
    He shifted his foot.
    ‘Keep the nose up; better to overshoot.’
    Nose up. OK.
    Noises from below. Shouted commands and the thud of boots running.
    ‘They’re coming.’
    Cosmo wrapped his fingers around the reel and fired. The bridge recoiled against his foot, sending tremors through his new kneecap. He ignored the pain, concentrating on steering the nose. It was heavier than it looked, and wilder. Twisting in the high altitude wind. Cosmo leaned back on the cord, hauling the nose up. Then it was over, two feet clear of the next building. Cosmo relaxed, the bridge touched down with a clang, two hooked grippers sprouting from the far end.
    The team did not waste time on congratulations, bolting across to the safety of the next rooftop. Cosmo followed, stowing the bridge with the touch of a button.
    Mona’s smile shone from the shadows. ‘Not too bad for your first time, Cosmo.’
    Ditto smiled too. ‘Not too bad? The first time Mona laid down a bridge we had to cut the cord, or it would have dragged her over the edge.’
    Mona frowned. ‘Yes, well at least I’m tall enough to steer a ladder across a big gap.’
    ‘Quiet!’ ordered Stefan. ‘Company.’
    The legal team was abseiling on to the adjacent roof, sliding through the wrecked roof box. Shoulder-mounted lights poked through the hole like wartime searchlights. Several lawyers were switching their shrink-wrap cartridges for illegal lethal ammunition belts.
    The squadron assembled in a loose circle, searching for signs of their quarry.
    Stefan whispered into a second walkie-talkie.
    ‘Everybody down, lawyers on the roof.’ The sentence was picked up by the first radio, two roofs away, and amplified so that it was clearly audible.
    ‘This way,’ barked the legal leader. ‘Don’t interrogate anyone until they’ve signed a waiver.’
    The lawyers followed the sound of Stefan’s voice. They were