Two Schools Out - Forever

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Two Schools Out - Forever Page 12

by James Patterson


  Sam turned to see what I was looking at just as Ari slipped out of sight.

  I sat very still, waiting for Erasers to burst through the window, drop through the ceiling.

  Sam was still looking at me quizzically. "You okay?" he asked again.

  "Um-hmm." I tried to look normal. "Just thought I saw something."

  Believe what you know, not what you see.

  Okay, so not only Erasers butting in, but don't you just hate it when the little Voice inside your brain starts talking at you during a date? I know I sure do. And what did it mean? I already knew Ari was still alive.

  "Max?"

  I gave Sam my attention again. "Sorry-got distracted." I smiled apologetically at him. I was on full alert, ready to spring into action, but nothing was happening.

  "I like how you're eating a whole sundae," said Sam. "Some girls would be like, Oh, just a small fat-free scoop in a cup. But you're all over that thing."

  I laughed, startled, wondering if I should feel embarrassed. "I don't worry about what I eat." Just, you know, if I'm going to eat.

  "I like it," Sam said again.

  And I am liking you, I thought.

  72

  We got a ride back to Anne's with Sam's third-oldest sister, who'd just gotten her license. Sam walked me up to Anne's front porch.

  "Thanks," I said, feeling awkward and at a loss again. "I had a really good time."

  "Me too," said Sam. "You're not like other girls I've met."

  You can say that again, pal.

  "Is that good or bad?" I asked.

  "Good. Definitely good." Sam really did have a nice smile. He moved closer to me, put one hand on my shoulder and the other under my chin. My eyes went wide when he kissed me. We were almost the same height, and he wasn't as lean and hard as Fang. He kissed me again, angling his head the other way, and he put his arms around my waist.

  You know what? My wings didn't even cross my mind. I closed my eyes and just went with it. Oh, my God, kissing.

  Go with the flow, Max.

  For once, the Voice had something worthwhile to say.

  An irritated little beep came from the car-Sam's sister wanted to get home.

  We broke apart, both of us wide-eyed and laughing a little.

  "Whoa," Sam said, and I nodded in agreement.

  "You better go," I said. "But thanks again, for everything. It was great."

  "Yeah." Sam looked like he wanted to kiss me again, but his sister tapped the horn once more. Looking regretful, he went down the steps and across the dark driveway. "Talk to you tomorrow," he called back over his shoulder.

  "Yeah."

  They drove off, leaving me alone with feelings I didn't even have words for.

  73

  Anne was waiting for me inside. "How was it?" she asked, standing up and smiling.

  "Fine," I said. "Well, good night." I kept walking and went up the stairs. I wasn't trying to be rude, not that that usually bothers me, but I just couldn't talk to her about anything that mattered. I went up to my room and sat on my bed, reliving the last ten minutes.

  My door opened slightly, and Fang put his head around it. He came in holding one hand over his eyes. "Whoa," he said. "Your happy glow. It's blinding."

  I rolled my eyes at him, then pulled off my hoodie. I wiggled my shoulders and let my wings untuck a little bit. Ahh. That felt better. I'd been holding them in tight all night. I wondered if Sam had felt them at all. He hadn't screamed or looked horrified, so I guessed not.

  Fang shut the door. "They wanted to stay up to wait for you, but Anne made them go to bed."

  "Good thinking on Anne's part," I said.

  "So? How was it?" Fang leaned against my desk and crossed his arms over his chest. I heard something in his voice and looked up at his face. As usual, he looked completely impassive, but I knew him so well that I could read the almost indiscernible twitch of his jaw muscle, the slight tightening around his eyes.

  "I saw him-what's the phrase? oh, yeah-'stuck to you like glue.' So I guess you got along all right." Fang waited as I tried to figure out what was going through his head.

  "Yeah," I said finally. "There's a lot of that going around."

  He looked a little embarrassed, and I kicked off my sneakers. Fang sat down next to me, leaning against my headboard. "So you like him. I don't have to kill him." His voice was tense.

  I shrugged. "Yeah. He was really nice. We had a good time."

  "But...?"

  I rubbed my temples with my hands. "But so what? He could be the nicest guy in the world, but it doesn't change anything. I'm still a mutant freak. We're still in a situation I hate more every day. We can't trust anyone. We can't solve the code mystery. We can't find our parents-not that it would help if we did."

  Fang was quiet.

  "I saw Ari tonight," I said, and his head came up. "He was standing outside the ice cream shop. He smiled at me. And there was someone with him..." I paused, thinking back to that flash of blond hair. "I saw-" Then it hit me. I'd thought I'd seen my reflection in the window. But I hadn't.

  I turned slowly and looked at Fang. "Ari had me with him. There was a me outside the window." My stomach took a dive.

  Fang blinked: his version of complete astonishment.

  "I saw a flash of blond-streaked hair in the van that day they attacked us," I said. "And tonight I saw that same hair, outside with Ari. I thought it was my own reflection in the window. But it wasn't a reflection. It was a me."

  He didn't bother asking me if I was sure. He knew he didn't have to.

  "Holy crap," he said, trying to process this. "A Max on the dark side. Pretty much the worst thing I can think of. Jesus. Another Max. A bad Max. Crap."

  "That's not all," I said slowly. "You know how I said if I went bad, I'd want you to-do anything you had to, to keep the others safe?"

  He looked at me warily. "Yeah."

  "The reason I asked about that..." I took a deep breath and looked away. "A couple times, when I've looked into a mirror, I've-seen myself morph. Into an Eraser."

  Fang didn't say anything.

  "I touch my face, and it feels just the same. Human, smooth. But the mirror shows me as an Eraser." I looked down. I couldn't believe I was admitting this out loud.

  There was a long silence. Seconds ticked by like hours.

  "I bet you looked kind of Pekingesey," Fang said finally.

  I snapped my head up to look at him. He seemed very calm, very normal, despite what I'd just told him. "What?"

  "Bet you were kind of cute, pup girl." He bared his teeth as if they were fangs and made a little growling sound. "Rrrff!" he said, and made a pouncing motion at me.

  I smacked him upside the head. He dodged to one side, laughing, but I jumped to my feet, angry. He held his hands up in surrender and with difficulty stopped laughing.

  "Look," said Fang, trying to keep a straight face. "I know you're not an Eraser. I don't know why you saw that in the mirror, and I don't know who the other Max is, but I know who you are, all the way through. And you're not an Eraser. And even if I saw you as an Eraser, I would still recognize you. I know you're not evil, no matter what you might look like."

  I thought of the Voice telling me to believe what I knew rather than what I saw, and tears started to my eyes. I sank back down onto the bed, just wanting to go to sleep and not think about anything.

  "Thanks," I told Fang in a broken voice.

  He stood up, then smoothed my hair with his hand. "You're fine," he said quietly.

  "Don't you dare put any of this in your blog," I warned him. "Don't even think about it for a millisecond."

  "Don't flatter yourself," he said, and left my room.

  PART 4

  THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

  74

  "Please."

  "It isn't time yet, Ari." Jeb didn't look at him, just kept reading printouts of reports from the field.

  "It'll never be time!" Ari exploded, pacing angrily around the room. "You keep telli
ng me it's almost time, but you never let me take them out! What are we waiting for?"

  His wings ached and burned where they were attached, and Ari reached into his pocket for his pills. He downed four, dry, and turned back to his father.

  "Be patient," said Jeb. "You know we need to stick to the plan." He looked up at Ari. "You're letting your emotions color your decisions. That isn't good, Ari. We've talked about this."

  "Me!" Ari burst out. "What about you? You know the reason you can't off her? 'Cause you're all wrapped up in her! You love Max! You love Max best! That's why you won't let me kill her."

  Jeb didn't say anything, just looked at him. Ari could tell Jeb was mad and trying not to show it. Just once, Ari wanted to see Jeb show the same love and admiration for him as he did for Max. When Jeb looked at Max, even pictures of Max, his face softened, his eyes grew more intent. When he looked at Ari, it was as if he were looking at anyone.

  And Jeb hated the new Max, for some reason. He couldn't stand to be around her-everyone had noticed it. So Ari was making a big point of hanging out with her as much as possible. Anything to get under Jeb's skin, make him take notice.

  Jeb finally spoke. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know the big picture. You have a part to play in this, but you have to do what I tell you. If you don't think you can do that, I'll find someone who can."

  Rage ignited inside Ari. His hands gripped at his sides so he wouldn't reach out and grab Jeb's throat. He wanted to throttle the life out of him-almost. Just until Jeb realized he loved Ari and should respect him more.

  But right now he had to get out of here. Ari spun and crashed out the door, letting it slam behind him. Outside, he took a running jump off the roof of the trailer-he still wasn't great at taking off right from the ground. Awkwardly and painfully, he flew high and headed for one of his favorite alone places-the top of a huge tree.

  He landed clumsily on a branch and grabbed the trunk to hang on. Furious tears sprang to his eyes. Closing them, he leaned back against the smooth, mottled bark of his tree. It all hurt so much. His wings, how much Jeb loved Max, how Max looked right through Ari...

  He remembered how she'd smiled at that pale twig last night when they were eating ice cream. Who was that guy? A nobody. A fragile little human. Ari could rip him in half without even trying.

  A low growl rose in his throat as he remembered how Max had kissed that loser on the front porch. Max had kissed him! Like she was some normal girl! If that guy only knew-he wouldn't go near Max in a million years.

  But maybe he would. Maybe he would love Max even if he knew she was a mutant freak. Max was special that way. People cared about her. Boys loved her. She was so strong-so strong and beautiful and fierce.

  A choked sob burst out of Ari's chest. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he brought his arm up to his face, pressing his tears into his jacket.

  Ari made another muffled sound against his sleeve, and then it all became too much. He felt himself morph full out into an Eraser, and his powerful jaws opened. Feeling his tears streaking through his fur, Ari stifled a sob and clamped his teeth down into his arm. He closed his eyes and hung on tight, making sure no sound escaped. He felt his teeth pierce his jacket, felt them scissor into his skin and muscle. He tasted blood, but he hung on.

  Because actually, this felt better.

  75

  "I think that's it. I am freaking amazing. We found it." I peeped out from behind the yew shrub and looked across the street again. "No wonder you worship me."

  Clearly I had snapped out of my malaise of the previous night. Let's keep those fourteen-year-old mutant-bird-kid hormone swings coming, eh?

  Fang gave me a long-suffering and not very worshipful glance, then looked past me at the modest suburban brick house. It was dinky, old-fashioned, but, given how close it was to DC, probably worth almost half a million dollars. Note to self: Invest in DC real estate. Save up your allowance.

  "Really? And that's the church in the background?"

  I nodded. "Yep. So what now?"

  He looked at me. "You're the leader."

  I narrowed my eyes at him, then grabbed his shoulder and marched him across the street with me. I rang the bell before my annoying common sense could kick in.

  We waited, and I heard footsteps coming to the door. Then it opened, and Fang and I were staring at the woman who may or may not but really looked like she could have been Iggy's mother.

  "Yes?" she said, and she was-get this-drying her hands on a kitchen towel just like a mom. She was tall and slender, with very pale strawberry-blond hair, fair skin, and freckles. Her eyes were a light sky blue, like Iggy's, except of course hers actually worked because they hadn't been experimented on by mad scientists. Mad as in crazy, not as in anger-management classes.

  "Can I help you?" she asked.

  "Ma'am, we're selling subscriptions to the Wall Street Journal," Fang said with a straight face.

  Her expression cleared. "Oh, no thanks. We already get the Post."

  "Okay then," said Fang, and we turned and skedaddled right out of there.

  She absolutely, positively, definitely might have been Iggy's mom. So what now?

  76

  "Still smells kind of like explosives," Iggy muttered to the Gasman.

  The Gasman sniffed. "Yeah. I like that smell. Smells like excitement."

  "God knows we could use more of that," Iggy said.

  Gazzy's footsteps were almost silent on the hard concrete floor, but Iggy could follow him with no effort. Even without Gazzy, Iggy could have found his way to the file room by memory. He bet he could even find his way back to the Institute if you dropped him into a subway tunnel in New York. It almost made up for being completely without any kind of freaking sight at all.

  Yeah, right.

  "Here we go." Gazzy soundlessly opened the file room door, and Iggy heard the flick of the light switch. Now he got to stand around like a coatrack while Gazzy did all the work.

  "She put those files someplace toward the front of the room," he reminded the Gasman. "On the right side. Is there a metal cabinet?"

  "They're all metal," said Gazzy, moving over. He opened one, riffled some pages, then closed it. "I don't even know what I'm looking for. All the files look alike."

  "None of 'em are marked Top Secret in big black letters?"

  "No."

  Iggy waited while the Gasman opened and riffled through and closed several more file drawers.

  "Hey, wait a minute," Gazzy said. "Huh. This is something. It's a bunch of files lumped together with a rubber band. They're a different color, and they look older, beat-up."

  "So read them."

  The sound of the rubber band being pulled off. Pages rustling.

  "Whoa."

  "What?" This was the kind of thing that made Iggy crazy: other people getting all the info much sooner because they could see. He always had to wait to be told stuff. He hated it.

  "These are files on, like, patients," said the Gasman. "Not students from this school. These are patients, and they're from the... Standish Home for Incurables."

  "What is that? Sounds like a whole bunch of not-fun."

  Gazzy read, and Iggy forced himself to be patient.

  "Wait-," said Gazzy, and Iggy thought, Oh, like I have a lot of freaking choice.

  "This is weird. I mean, as far as I can tell, this school used to be, like, an insane asylum, until maybe just two years ago. These files are on patients who used to live here. But why is the headhunter saving them?"

  "Maybe he had something to do with them? Did he run the nuthouse? Maybe he was a patient and he killed all the others and opened this school-"

  "Can't tell. There's a lot of stuff here. Too much to read right now. Let's show these to Max. I can stuff them under my shirt."

  "Cool. We better be heading back."

  "Yep."

  Iggy followed Gazzy to the stairs. Let's see, almost lunchtime. Wonder where Tess will sit today-Then Gazzy paused for a s
econd, and Iggy almost ran into him.

  "That's funny," Gazzy muttered. "There's a door here I never noticed."

  Iggy heard him step forward and open it. Dank, cool air wafted out at them.

  "What is it?"

  "A tunnel," said the Gasman, sounding taken aback. "A long, dark tunnel going farther than I can see. Right under the school."

  77

  I was kind of dreading seeing Sam again at school. Would he blow me off? Had he told anyone about us kissing? Would I get teased and therefore have to kick serious butt?

  It was fine. I saw him in class, and he gave me a discreet and yet special smile. No one seemed to be watching him or me to see us interact as gossip fodder. During free period, we sat at a table across from each other and talked and read and studied, and not even the headhunter came down on us.

  It was cool. For almost that whole day, I felt like life didn't totally suck. And that lasted all the way till I got back to Anne's, so we might be talking new record here.

  "A tunnel?" I looked at Gazzy and Iggy in confusion. "Why would there be a tunnel under the school?"

  "Excellent question," the Gasman said, nodding. "Plus the secret files."

  I flipped through the files again. "Nudge? Do a check on the school. Didn't I see something that said it had been there for, like, twenty years?"

  "All the brochures said that," Fang confirmed. "Plus there's a plaque in the front hall that says Founded in 1985."

  Nudge got onto the laptop we'd more or less appropriated from Anne. I kept flipping through the files, which were all about patients who had entered the sanitarium and never come out. The files were dated mostly from the last fifteen years or so, until just two years ago. In other people's lives, ending up at a school that used to be a mental hospital and had a tunnel under it would be very interesting but coincidental.

  In our lives, it was like a great big red warning light blinking on and off.

 

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