by Joy Jenkins
"I'm in position," she said.
Static. Then her father's voice. "See anything?"
"Negative. Holding."
For a long moment, nothing within the house moved. Then a shadow passed behind the blinds in one of the first story windows.
"We have movement," she said. "Checking perimeter now."
She slid out from the alley and moved to another one facing the back of the house. As she crouched checking the surroundings, a man in all black appeared. Without hesitating, she fired. The paintball exploded on the man's chest before he raised his weapon. The man looked at her with a set mouth.
"I've never liked you, Carter," he said.
She shrugged, indifferent. "Next time, Davis. Or not."
The man sat down, legs outstretched, and she walked past him, raising her wrist.
"One hostile eliminated," she said. "Affirmative, this is our target."
"Good work, Sarge," her father said. "Teams fall in. Hold at twenty yards. Sarge, we need the number of hostiles and their positions."
"On it."
Carter cleared the perimeter and stopped beside the house. She pressed her back against the chipping paint wall, splinters poking her spine. Inside her chest, her heart pounded. Her fingers tingled with a familiar rush of adrenaline. She crept along the house, spying in through cracks and gaps in the blinds.
"I have six hostiles on the bottom floor," she whispered.
"Good. Red team, give me information on the second floor," her father said.
Static filled her ear as she waited.
"We have three hostiles on the top floor in the South room, along with two hostages," a gruff voice said.
"Alright. Sarge, can you gain access to the second floor?"
Carter looked up, searching for an access point. Peeking around the corner, she scanned the wall.
"Drainpipe on the North side of the house," she said. "Farthest from the current location of the hostiles."
"Okay, climb it. Blue team, get into position and lay down cover," her father said.
Blue team voiced that they were in position, “Carter, we got your six.”
“Copy that.” Carter inched toward the drainpipe, straining to hear shouts of alarm. Unnoticed, she gripped the thin metal brackets. Achingly slow, she climbed, aware of every squeak and protest the pipe let out.
"Blue team, am I clear to enter?” she asked.
"Affirmative," Curtis said.
She eased the window open, flecks of paint sticking to her palm. Gripping the side of the window, she tucked her leg over the lip and pulled the rest of her body inside. She dropped to the floor, landing on the balls of her feet. She landed in an empty bedroom with faded green walls, the odor of mold tickling her nose.
"I'm in," she said.
"Get into position and when I give the order, take down the hostiles," her father said.
"Affirmative. Moving into position now."
At the door, she gently turned the knob, cracking it an inch. The hallway beyond was empty. She widened the gap and checked both ends. Breathing out, she stepped into the corridor. The floorboards shifted under her weight but made no noise.
Heart hammering and body coursing with energy, she made her way to the hostiles' location. Outside the room, she held her position, gun at the ready. Her voice barely made a sound as she relayed that she was in position.
"On my mark, we breach," her father said.
She took in a deep breath and edged towards the door handle. Holstering her gun, she pulled out a small canister from her pocket and put one hand on the door.
"Now!"
Carter kicked the door open, yanked the pin out of the canister and sent it tumbling into the room. She swung away as a flash of white light burst in the room and an explosive bang rang out. As she darted into the room, she whipped out her gun. With three quick pulls, she shot the hostiles, red paint splattering their chests.
Below her, she heard the sound of footsteps thundering on fractured floorboards and the ringing of shots. The three men before her let loose angry strings of curses as they blinked the spots of white from their eyes. Boots pounded outside the room and a second later her father appeared, followed by Curtis. Her father jostled her shoulders affectionately.
"Well done, Sarge," he said. "Hostiles neutralized and the hostages are alive."
She nudged him in the ribs as the rest of the team filed into the room.
"Sometimes I wonder how you do your job without me," she said, grinning, feeling that every second of loneliness at school was worth it for a moment like this.
The men laughed. Carter threw her fist into the air. "Beers are on me!"
Chapter 10
Is this normal for you?” Link asked Carter. “Finishing the project halfway through the period?”
Mutterings and hushed arguments of students crowded the room, the worst of them bringing Mr. Rojas’s assistance. At the table opposite, green liquid spilled over the rim of a beaker, filling the air with an acrid stench.
“Pretty much,” Carter said.
“What do you do then?” Link asked.
“Sometimes I do other homework assignments. Mostly, I just watch everyone else and laugh.”
“Why?”
The answer seemed obvious, student dynamics, especially in stressful situations, amused her.
“See those two?” she asked, pointing to a pair of students across the way.
When Link found them, he responded in the affirmative.
“She is taking this class to bump up her college application,” Carter explained. “He is taking it because his parents signed him up for it. They have the best interactions. Watch.”
They studied the pair in silence. A few minutes later the boy knocked something over and the girl rounded on him, glowering.
“Randy!” she shouted. “For once in your pathetic existence can you please try to do something right?!”
“If I did, would you make out with me?” Randy asked.
With a threatening glare, the girl returned to the experiment.
“You are so immature. I can’t believe I got stuck with you,” she said.
Randy proceeded to examine the inside of an empty beaker.
“I see what you mean,” Link said.
“One time, she told him he should apologize to the world for being alive.”
“Do you know something about everyone?”
“Mostly, yeah.”
“Even the teachers?”
“Sure. They are even easier to read than the students.” Carter jerked her head to the front of the class. “Mr. Rojas has taken up running in the last four weeks.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“I’ve been in this class for more than six months. He’s lost about 10 lbs, you can see it in the way his shirts are too baggy for him.”
“Okay, what else?” Link said, his interest piqued. “What about our PE teacher, Mr. Danes?”
“He is recently divorced and sees his kid on Wednesday nights.”
“How do-“
Carter raised her hand, wiggling her fingers. “He still has a tan line from his wedding ring. We have a James in our class which every Thursday he calls Jamie. I’m guessing that is the nickname for his son.”
Pulled into her knowledge, Link leaned forward. Carter found it strange how something that managed to annoy so many of her peers made Link like her more.
“Mr. Philips?” he asked.
“He used to be in politics, even worked on a few senator’s campaigns. Something happened though. I think he was blackballed.”
“Why do you think that?”
“In the back of his room, he has multiple photos with prestigious politicians and he will talk in depth about modern campaign strategies. But he left working in politics abruptly a few years ago - none of the photos are dated more recently than five or six years back.”
“The blackballed thing?”
“That is easy. Instead of bragging about his politi
cal connections, as most people would in his place, he avoids the subject entirely.”
Impressed, Link nodded. “Interesting.”
“Most people are when you try to learn their secrets.”
At that, Link looked away, gazing out over the classroom. When Carter did the same but found nothing new to see, a thought struck her. “Want to see something more interesting than secrets?”
At the sight of Carter’s devilish grin, Link drew back, hesitant.
“Why do I get the feeling that what you are about to do might end with someone’s arm broken?”
A laugh tumbled out of Carter.
“Because you aren’t as clueless as you look. And don’t worry, not this time.”
Without an explanation, Carter went over to the supply closet and collected a couple of ingredients. Back at the table, she deposited them before Link, who eyed them. Before she started working, Carter glanced at Mr. Rojas. He sat at his desk, head bent as he marked papers.
As Carter combined two powders and put them on a mesh square, Link watched her warily. Carter tossed Link a mischievous wink as she put the mesh on top of a metal tripod. When she reached for the Bunsen burner, Link took a cautious step back.
“Should I duck and cover?” he asked, shying away.
Taking out a pair of sunglasses from her bag, Carter slipped them on.
“Not at all,” she said, in a careless tone. “This won’t hurt you a bit.”
When she lit the Bunsen burner, blue flames flared into life, the heat of it warming Carter’s skin. Still holding the Bunsen burner, she looked at Link.
“You might want to close your eyes though.”
The warning made Link pale and Carter grin. As he cringed and snapped his eyes shut, Carter placed the flame underneath the tripod, burning the bottom of the mesh. For a breath, nothing happened. Then a flash of white light exploded inside the classroom. The room erupted with students crying out in shock and panic.
“What was that!”
“I can’t see!”
“What happened?’
“Was it lightning?”
Using the moment of disorientation, Carter switched the burner off, swapped it with another student’s, and replaced her sunglasses in her bag. She tapped Link on the shoulder and he pried one eye open. Seeing that everything was back to normal, he gazed around.
A smile appeared as he took in all the stunned and confused students. When Carter glanced back at Donovan, hoping to see some crack in his mask, she found him blinking his vision clear. As his eyes focused, they landed on her as if he already knew she had been the cause. She tipped an imaginary hat to him.
“How did you learn to do that?” Link asked.
“Easy, YouTube.”
Mr. Rojas stepped into the middle of the classroom. Still working the stars from his eyes, he banged his leg on a table’s edge on the way and grimaced.
“Everyone, calm down,” he said. “It was just a mishap. Nothing to be alarmed about. Continue with your projects, you still have a few minutes left of class.”
As Mr. Rojas finished talking, Carter swept away the last traces of evidence, leaving the table clear of her crime. Students turned back to their partners but no one returned to their work, their conversations filled with speculations. Massaging his bruised thigh, Mr. Rojas stopped at Carter’s table.
“Ms. Owens.”
“Mr. Rojas.”
“If I touch your Bunsen burner, what will I find?”
“A cold Bunsen burner, I expect.”
Cautious, Mr. Rojas held two fingers inches from the burner. After a second he tapped it, jerking back as if prepared to be burned. Upon discovering it cold, he frowned.
“Crazy what happens in chemistry sometimes,” Carter said, with a mocking grin.
◆◆◆
Just beyond the classroom doorway, Carter paused. When Link and Donovan trailed out, she fell into step beside them.
“You know, if you keep hanging out with us people will think we’re friends,” Link said, echoing her words.
“The thought did cross my mind,” she replied.
Link shot her a teasing grin. As they rounded the corner towards history, an alarm blared through the school. The shrill siren beat against eardrums, making students wince. Half a second later, metal shutters slammed down over the windows. A girl shrieked. Voices reverberated off the walls, panic mounting as transfer students swirled around, shouting for answers.
Carter turned to explain the lockdown to Link and Donovan but found the space beside her deserted. Spinning around, she searched the sea of frantic students. Above the alarm, the static of the intercom crackled to life.
“Students,” Principal Withers said. “Please return to your homerooms in an orderly fashion. I repeat, return to your homerooms.”
Ignoring the order, Carter ducked into the closest vacated classroom, but couldn’t see either Link or Donovan. She caught the edge of a maroon blazer. Trying not to smile, she crossed to the back of the room and peered over the teacher’s desk. Huddled on the floor were Link and Donovan.
“You know, I never pegged either of you as being the skittish type,” she said. “Okay, I might have expected it from Link but not Donovan.”
Though Link blushed, Donovan showed nothing at all. As usual. Carter pointed back towards the doorway. “Are we going to head back to homeroom or shall I join you down there? Who knows? It might improve my reputation to be found on the floor with the school’s new hot guy.”
Donovan worked his jaw in annoyance, which made Carter laugh. Any response from him felt like she’d won a battle.
“I’m not sure even that could improve your reputation,” he said.
“Probably not. Come on. They have to make sure everyone is accounted for.”
Looking embarrassed as well as pale, Link stood. “Does this happen often?”
“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if this is a test,” Carter said, leading them back into a mostly empty hallway. “We have them every so often, you know, to check response time. How fast does the military show up.”
“What?”
“You do realize the President’s son goes here, right? The second the alarm goes off, an alert is sent to the military and they send out a response team. This is one of the most secure schools in the country.”
“Oh,” Link said.
The alarm still rang down corridors, urging even the most stubborn back to their classrooms. Carter glanced at her phone. “It’s a good reaction time, even with the new students.”
The chemistry room buzzed with excited chatter as speculations on what caused the alarm flew around. When Carter and Link took their seats, Link surveyed the other tables.
“He’s not here,” Carter said, reading his unspoken question.
“Who?”
“Mason.”
“How do you know that?”
Carter gave him a mischievous grin. “I have my ways. Let’s just say I know the second that alarm went off Smith grabbed Mason and took him to a secure location.”
“You’re not going to tell me where that is?” Link asked.
“Technically, I’m not even supposed to know. So…no, I’m not going to tell you. Just know that, unfortunately, he’s safe.”
◆◆◆
When Carter, Link, and Donovan entered the cafeteria the noise felt doubled after the temporary lockdown. All anyone talked about was how the school felt eerie with the shutters down and the sight of the military checking the interior.
Before Link or Donovan could face the chaos of the lunch line, Carter offered a part of hers. Link snatched up Carter’s bag of chips, breaking it open but stopped as Amy strolled past their table. He followed her path, the chips completely forgotten.
“She thinks you’re cute,” Carter said, snapping Link from his stunned state. “You should go have lunch with her.”
Link blinked, coming back to himself. “What did you say?”
“Go eat with her.”
Thou
gh Link stared at where Amy now sat with her friends, he shook his head, shrinking away from the thought. “No. I’m fine.”
“Don’t be stupid. Go sit with her. You like her, don’t you?” Link shrugged unconvincingly. “You helped her with math homework and talked to her at the museum, you have your in. Go take it before the guy at the next table takes it.”
Link straightened, scanning the neighboring tables to Amy’s, trying to pick out the guy in question.
“Which one?” Link asked, still searching.
“Why should I tell you? It’s not like it matters to you since you aren’t going.”
Past Link’s shoulder, Carter saw Donovan press his lips together, trying to hide his amusement.
“Tell me who it is,” Link said.
Carter held Link’s gaze, opening her mouth as if to spill the truth but snapped her jaw shut and shook her head. “Nope, if you’re not going to do anything about Amy, then he should at least get a chance. Who knows? It might be fun to watch him flirt with her. You know, hear how she laughs at his stupid jokes.”
As Carter talked, Link wavered with indecision until he nodded to himself, his resolve solidifying. He stood abruptly but didn’t move, eyes pinned on Amy.
“You might find simply saying ‘hello’ will go a long way,” Carter said, encouragingly.
Awkwardly, Link climbed over the bench and headed towards Amy, faltering in his tracks once but finding the determination to go on. Carter and Donovan watched in silence as Link hovered behind Amy, then tapped her shoulder. When she smiled up at him, Link relaxed, a goofy grin sliding into place. Amy scooted over and Link managed to take the seat beside her without bumping her.
“Not a single guy at the table next to Amy’s even looked over when she sat down,” Donovan said.
“I know that and you know that, but Link doesn’t need to know that,” Carter said.
“Why, then?”
“I knew he would find it more painful to watch someone flirt with Amy then having to go over and talk to her.”
Carter felt a moment of pride when Amy laughed and touched Link’s arm, making him blush.
“Why help him at all?” Donovan asked.
Carter arched an eyebrow at him. “You mean because I’m such a cold-hearted person I couldn’t possibly want to help someone else?”
