by Scott Rhine
“Eh?” Benchley said. “Whatever, kiddo. Sure.”
“How did you know my name?” Dad asked.
The agent pointed to the back of my shirt and the ads on the side of Dad’s station wagon. “Next time you stage a prison break, don’t wear your nametags.”
After a few minutes talking to Zak, Benchley knew he had the real deal. Dad negotiated his initial contract. My brother would be working for the government, but we couldn’t know exactly where. They would provide him with confidential therapy as often and long as necessary. On weekends, he could take the bus to visit with his family and fiancée. We didn’t arrive back at the cottage until three in the morning.
35. Bring me Morris
I wanted to smash my alarm clock when it went off at the normal weekday time. I put on my school uniform and searched my room for the laptop. No luck. Next, I knocked on Dad’s bedroom door. “Hey, where’d you put my computer? I have a History paper due today.”
He was as bleary-eyed as me. “Back under your bed so you wouldn’t know I’d been fiddling with it.”
I closed my eyes. “Crap. You talked about Mom’s recordings in front of my watch. Someone must’ve heard you and stolen it.”
“Don’t be so paranoid.” He tossed my room and found nothing other than dirty laundry. Rushing back to his dresser, he rummaged through his sock drawer. “Crap. My interview pen is missing, too. They knew we were out of town because of your GPS. The proof is gone. Did you back up your laptop?”
“I may have a copy on Google docs,” I replied.
“Brilliant. All the recordings?”
I’d meant my History paper and shook my head no.
Dad put a finger on my lips. “Excellent. I’ll keep this thumb-drive on me at all times.” He pointed to my watch and winked. “This break-in narrows the list to only two names. We’ve almost got them.”
“This is dangerous.”
“After school, I’ll give this to my lawyer. He’ll put it in the packet the FBI will receive if something happens to me.”
Warming to the performance for our witch audience, I asked, “What about the computer program Zak set up for you to e-mail the major newspapers?” We had no such safety measures, but the bad guys wouldn’t know that. Since it was a question, I hadn’t really lied.
He gave me a thumbs-up gesture. “Sure. I’ll add it to that, too, but I don’t trust machines as much as he does.”
While he finished his morning routine, I put my hair into a quick ponytail. Then, I pocketed a Pop-Tart and waited for him in the SUV. I must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Luca was shaking me. “It’s first bell. We let you rest as long as we could. Your dad’s already at the boys’ school.”
****
After I finished the in-class worksheet fourth period, I borrowed Blaise’s laptop to print my History paper in the office. The teacher, Miss Freedman, gave me a pass to pick it up. As I passed the math room, Emma met me in the hall with a bucket and two scrub brushes. “Mrs. Bradstreet just left for an urgent meeting in Lake Placid.”
“Why so far?”
“Police business that I’m not cleared for.”
“She consults for them as a mind reader?” I guessed.
Emma knew more than she was officially allowed to, but she wasn’t talking. “Do you want this chance or not? Grab your friends and clean like the wind. You should have until the end of lunch before she returns, but don’t dally.”
I groaned. “Today couldn’t get worse.” I grabbed the printout next.
After turning in my assignment, I showed my teacher the bucket. “We have to scrub the headmistress’ wall and the floor near the faculty lounge where I broke the window. There’s still residue from the incident.”
“We?” asked the teacher.
I pointed to my cousin.
Miss Freedman sent us both to do our punishment with a shooing motion.
Handing Blaise the bucket, I said, “Fill this with warm, soapy water while I get Luca the vandal.”
“Wait till lunch to involve Lilith. She’s taking a test.”
I grunted an acknowledgement and then pulled Luca out of English class. They were reading a play aloud, and she seemed bored out of her skull. I whispered Emma’s request to the drama teacher, and soon my friend was following me downstairs to the scene of the crime.
“Everybody will see us scrubbing this during the class break,” Luca said.
Blaise agreed. “It’s humiliating.”
I pulled out my UV flashlight. “You hold this so she can mark where the letters are. We don’t want the rest of the school reading this.”
“Mark it with what?” asked Luca.
I handed her a piece of circle chalk I kept on me at all times. “Speaking of invisible paint, where’s the rest of it?”
Luca rolled her eyes. “I hid it behind the spare tables in the gym closet.”
I’d seen people putting fold-up furniture away on my first day of school. “Got it. Be back to take my turn.”
Since the girls in the gym were in a wicked game of dodge ball, I had to wait for the bell to ring. The moment they left the court, I darted into the storage room. It wasn’t locked, despite the refrigerator full of sports’ drinks and pop inside. However, it wasn’t well lit, and finding the blessed paint jug took a while. It was hiding under a pack of purple surgical gloves.
I wove through the crowds in the hall, trying to reach my friends. As I did so, I noticed one person in the foyer who was head-and-shoulders above the rest—Hunter the unemployed orderly. Did he ever look pissed. Girls instinctively gave him a wide berth.
Crap, Dad must’ve left the torn forms at the asylum with his work address.
I ducked into the alcove by the headmistress’ locked door, hiding behind my friends. I took off my glasses to change my look further from last night. My hair was different, too. With so many girls in the same uniform, he wouldn’t recognize me from twenty feet away. “That’s the sadist who beat my brother. He wants to hurt my dad next.”
“I’ll handle this.” Luca rushed back toward her locker for her Book.
As Hunter ducked into the office, I tapped in the emergency code on my phone. I felt like Jimmy Olsen summoning Superman until their reply came back. “Seventeen minutes.”
That felt like an eternity.
I heard a woman’s cry for help in the office, cut off abruptly. Then the brute waded into the crowded lobby. Girls backed away from him until he bellowed, “Morris!”
The hall fell silent.
“Give me Morris, and no one else needs to get hurt!” His voice had a murderous edge. Jagged shards of fear turned me cold. He had something abnormal about him. I peeked at him through the kaleidoscope. His face was gray, and a black hole hovered over the place where his heart should have been.
Fumbling for my watch, I almost dropped the device. I texted Dad one word—hide.
Emma burst from the teacher’s lounge. “What is the meaning of this?”
Waving my arms from the alcove opposite her, I whispered, “No.”
She was so focused on protecting the school that she didn’t notice. She didn’t stop until she stood toe-to-toe with the monster. “You’re trespassing on private property.”
“Morris, now.” Hunter said, raising his voice further. The madder he got, the fewer words he used.
“Instructor Morris isn’t in the building currently. If you’d like—”
With his right hand, the bald mountain grabbed Emma by the hair and jerked her up to his face. Her tiptoes were barely on the polished-stone floor. “The little girl.”
He pulled out a silver-framed photo of the Rejects with Gran-gran. In the center, my face had been circled. Who did he steal that from?
In obvious pain, Emma said, “We have no students by the name registered here. If you come into the office, I can show you.”
Luca, Lilith, and Salma Harvard appeared at my elbow.
“Witches lie,” he said, “Tell me where to find
Isa Morris, or I will break your bones.”
“This is your last chance to surrender,” said Emma, sweeping her hand back to gather power. She pointed at the man’s right foot and formed a fist.
That’s a new spell. I wonder what it’ll do.
With her Book, however, Salma was quicker with spell-casting gestures. Electricity arced from the overhead lights into Hunter’s hulking form. The jolt made him drop the picture frame, but the attack did no other visible damage. His tattoos smoked as he absorbed the charge.
“Thanks. I needed that,” said Hunter.
The bleed-through current stunned Emma, so we didn’t get to see her big gun.
Shrieking girls scattered.
“No direct magic,” I shouted over the chaos. “He’s an animate, a golem.”
Luca was already charging in a blur.
Hunter used Emma’s limp body as a club, smashing Luca into the lockers. My friend was lying on the floor with her eyes shut, but I didn’t see any blood. I had to trust that her Book and training protected her. Miraculously, she’d managed to plant a switchblade into his exposed left bicep. I couldn’t tell if she’d been aiming for his tattoo or his heart. He flicked the blade away as casually as I might swat a mosquito.
When he tried to take a step, however, his boot stayed glued to the stone floor. Angry, he tugged several ties, unable to budge it. The monster had to unlace the boot to pull his bare foot out. Even the sock was stuck. Emma weaponized a first-year prank! She knew that every second she delayed meant more lives saved, and the temporary spirit glue would leave no evidence behind later for police.
In retaliation for the embarrassment, the brute twisted Emma’s arm. I heard the sickening crack from my hiding place. “Every minute that passes, I break another limb. If she runs out of limbs, her neck is last. Give me the Morris girl, and I leave.”
I stood up to surrender, but Blaise clamped a hand over my mouth and held me back. She was stronger and heavier than I was.
“Tick-tock,” said Hunter.
Coach Williams jogged up the hall from the gym. “Run, girls. I’ll handle this.”
“Mmm!” I pointed at the paint. Blaise let go so I could speak. “Golem. Distract him while we bless the hell out of him.”
The coach nodded as she called out, “See—no spells, no weapons.” Raising her arms, she strode into the foyer. “You look like you enjoyed prison.”
I pulled out a glove and stretched it open. “Mix and pour.”
With her green pack full of Chinese dream books slung over her back, Blaise might have looked like a turtle, but the constant shadow of sickness had made her eerily calm in the face of real danger. She shook the can and then ripped off the lid, which made a clang on the floor.
Coach was in full distraction mode. “I’ll bet you pumped all that iron because you were someone’s boyfriend, and you vowed never to let someone do that to you again.”
Hunter chuckled. “You can be next once I’ve broken this one.” He held Emma up by her good arm.
My cousin poured the clear paint into the glove, and it swelled like a balloon.
The sudden weight almost caused it to slip from my grasp. I clamped the hole shut as the paint continued to drizzle over my fist. “Stop.”
I tied the glove shut and glanced at the clock on the wall. I had time to make one more balloon. We’d only get one shot at this monster, and I wanted it to count. I set the first missile aside and set up the second. At my nod, Blaise poured more. We didn’t have much left in the can. This would have to do. I tied off the second balloon and handed it to my cousin.
Meanwhile, Williams kept the freak talking. “We don’t turn out children over to be molested or murdered. You must be thinking of another school.”
Hunter held up a hand to swear. “I was ordered not to kill her. I’ll only take her eyes.”
Coach said something unprintable and lurched forward.
The monster twisted Emma’s second arm in a direction it wasn’t supposed to bend, causing her to wake screaming.
“Now!” I said, tossing my balloon. It wobbled unevenly, but the dumb jerk didn’t try to dodge it. He just held Emma higher. The missile exploded against her jaw, and paint flew into her mouth. Splash from the edges burned his hand, and he released her.
The moment she was free, Emma did the bravest thing I’ve ever seen—she spit the salted paint from her mouth into the bastard’s face.
He roared and covered his eyes with his hands.
Blaise didn’t throw hers. She inserted it manually. My cousin used the diversion to pull open his elastic waistband and drop the blessed bomb into his pants.
He yelled like something had shoved a firecracker up his behind. He wriggled like a fish to slide his foot free of his glued boot. Already half-blind from the damage, Hunter ran from the school.
“Yes!” said the coach. Instead of chasing the perp, she had to catch a collapsing Emma.
“Take her to the nurse’s office and lock her in,” I ordered. To the next teacher, I said, “Signal a complete lockdown. Seniors without Books, get the younger kids to safety.”
From the Math room side, Lilith said, “Roger, I’ll herd them into the cafeteria and close the door.” As she turned to do just that, I noticed the mace canister on her hip. She’d been coming to protect me along with the others, despite her lack of magic. That was a friend.
I issued my next order to an expectant group remaining, mostly the Harvard girls. “Seniors with Books, form a line of protective circles.”
Williams was already heading to the medical room but said, “What the hell? I’m the senior teacher here.”
Luca shook her head and rose unsteadily to her feet. The locker behind her had an almost cartoon-like impression of her shoulder. Books are badass. “Do it. One of these creatures killed Isa’s mother. She knows how to stop it.” Luca arranged her classmates in a line and passing out black lipstick for those without chalk.
I ran for my locker. “Hold it back until I get the ritual prepared.”
36. A Burning Building
First responders are the crazy people who run into a burning building while everyone else is running out. An enraged psychopath was coming back to gouge out my eyes, and I was looking for a way to finish him off before he hurt anyone else. I wanted justice for my mother and Emma more than I wanted to breathe. I’d found my calling. The lockdown alarm blared over the loudspeakers of every room in the building as I tried to remember my lockbox combination. Normal cops and paramedics would be on the way, too.
Meanwhile, Luca had reclaimed her knife and instructed four other seniors draw linked circles six feet into the lobby. She used the last few ounces of invisible paint to draw a ward between the school doors. She explained her plan as I returned with my gear and the fragile family Book. “I haven’t activated the ward on the doors yet. We lure him in and then trap him in between—a killing box.”
“Good tactics,” the coach said, nodding.
“What can I do?” asked Blaise.
I slipped on my dress-white gloves. “You’re supposed to be in the cafeteria with the others.”
“I don’t abandon family and friends.” Blaise pointed to the large school clock on the floor. “It was my idea to use that to make all the wards perfectly round.”
“Fine. Get me a yardstick or a long pointer from the teachers’ lounge,” I told her.
“Why?”
I pulled the spare votive candle and lighter out of my bag. “To ring the school bell at the proper moment.”
Each of the seniors stood behind their work, pumping our defenses full of energy. When the circles flared, I said, “Good. Now seal the door from the playground on the cafeteria side. We don’t want him sneaking in the side.” In reality, I was leading them well clear of the trap. I didn’t want my friends to become batteries for the Advent Killer.
The coach cleared her throat. “Actually, the stone archways already have protections embedded. We just have to charge them. I’ll ta
ke care of the gym doors. I really hope you know what you’re doing, Isa.”
“She’s a natural,” replied Luca.
When we were alone, I whispered, “How to I find a spell in my Book?”
My friend wobbled at the question, as if I’d slapped her. “Look for an index in the back. Hurry.”
The index page came out from the binding the instant I cracked it open. Fortunately, I had a lot a practice reading colonial cursive. It pointed me to The Bell, Book, and Candle Ritual on page fifty-three. I tried to guess the proper location but ended up with page forty-eight crumbling like an autumn leaf in my finger.
“Use the cuttlebone to turn them,” Luca said, holding out her implement. “Gently.”
A shotgun blast from the gym made us both jump. I stabbed a hole through page fifty. “Crap.” Hunter went out to his car to fetch his gun.
“The animate is attacking from behind.” Luca dragged me into the kill zone. “We should get you to a car in the lot. His car is probably unlocked. I could hot-wire it.”
I lit the candle in preparation and pulled my Book toward me. Its touch filled me with utter confidence. Speaking slowly and distinctly, I said, “I am going to end that monster. Stall him, but stand clear when I begin the chant.” A second and third blast in rapid succession ended debate.
She locked eyes with me. “Could you bless me?”
I drew a plus sign on her forehead. “Godspeed, Lucretia the brave.”
As I flipped pages to locate the arcane ritual Mom mentions, my friend dashed down toward the hall toward the gym and certain pain and injury.
Two lives for dozens. This ends today.
More blasts rang through the hallway, far too close. The circles wouldn’t defend against bullets. I squinted to read the faded, ancient letters of the dispelling rite. “I come before the spirits of our ancestors to right a wrong. Someone has abused the power we were granted and broken the sacred trust.” I moved my hands in the three gestures notated beneath.
Luca sprang out of the gym, crossed the hall, and jumped off the wall at a run. The posters at her heels erupted into confetti as a blast shattered the ceramic tiles behind her. She stumbled and slid across the floor.
