“We’re here to help you, Spencer,” Mr. Simms insisted, the desperation thickening in his voice. His eyes started to tear up, drowning in guilt. “This is all my fault. You don’t know how many nights I’ve laid awake, blaming myself for what happened to you and the others….I need to make it right. For all of you.”
“You should never have come here,” Mom said. “You never deserved this kind of treatment. No one does.”
I was lost. Confused. I didn’t know what to believe anymore.
I’m so tired of fighting.
Tired of resisting.
I just want to crawl back into my hole….
I finally spoke up. “I belong here, mom.”
Mom stepped back. A look of confusion overcame her face. “What…?”
“After the things I’ve done? I deserve to be here.”
The look on Mom’s face curdled. Turning to Merridew, she asked, “What have you done to him?”
“What do you mean, Miss Pendleton?” Merridew’s demeanor remained as innocent as the pure driven snow (after some kid peed in it). “I have done exactly what we at the Kesey Reclamation Center set out to do. I have reclaimed your son.”
“You can’t get away with this,” Mom insisted. “You can’t do this to my boy….”
Merridew smiled. “But Spencer is already mine.”
Mom turned to Mr. Simms, then back to me, her mouth hanging open. Speechless. “…Spencer?”
“It is better this way, Mom,” I said. “This is home now.”
And I believed it.
Dripping. In my sleep, I swore I heard water dripping.
Plink.
Plink.
Plink.
I woke up in my cave back at Camp New Leaf. The last candle had long since been snuffed out, and the limestone walls dripped in the darkness.
I never left. I’ve always been here.
Wait. That’s not true. I never left Kesey. The Black Hole has become my home.
Home.
The more I thought of it, the more the word fluctuated and lost its shape.
Home.
There are residents who come to Kesey because the outside world wants nothing more to do with them. Society wants to forget these residents ever existed.
Lock them up and throw away the key.
A Neverland for all the Lost Boys.
Home is where the heart is broken.
I hadn’t talked to Peashooter for days. Weeks. Months. Or had it been just a couple hours ago? If he had ever been in the cell next to me in the first place.
I didn’t want to talk to anyone anymore. I poured cement down my throat and sealed off my esophagus. Who was there to chat with in here anyway?
Only myself. And who was I?
Nobody…
I was Peter Pan. The boy who refused to grow up.
Nobody…
I was Spencer Pendleton. Academic Assassin. Member of the original Greenfield Tribe. Counterrevolutionary leader of Camp New Leaf.
Nobody…
I played out these densely detailed fantasies in my head. Like the Academic Assassins spreading through Kesey. All the tribes breaking free from this institution. Of Merridew being ousted. I created these intricate worlds where I was the hero pitted against impossible odds—but in my version, there was a happy ending.
But down here, in the Black Hole, those happy endings always felt hollow.
Even in my dreams, I know better.
Whenever I wake up, I’m still in the cave. Or strapped to the bed in solitary.
Which is it? Where am I? I don’t know anymore.
All I had were four off-colored walls. Fluorescent lights. The faint, endless buzz of electricity coursing through the bulbs directly over my skull.
What was that quote from Nineteen Eighty-Four again?
“Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimeters inside your skull.”
My skull had become a cave. My skull had become a black hole.
My skull had become my home.
Home.
Home
Hom
Ho
H
h
Something scuttled across my chest. This slight pinch in my skin drew me out from my daydream-nightmare, my eyes blinking back to the Black Hole.
Something pinched my nipple. Tiny claws. I lifted my head to discover Minnie sitting up on her haunches against my chest, whiskers bristling.
“How did you get in here?” I croaked.
As if to answer my question, Minnie turned her neck toward the rusted grate.
“Ah. Of course.”
Minnie scurried up to my face and rested her forepaws on my chin. I didn’t know if I was supposed to pucker up for a kiss or what. I noticed a paper clip tied to her tail. Fastened to the clip was a thick padding of flattened tinfoil gum wrappers.
“For me?” I asked, assuming she’d answer.
Minnie shimmied nearly on command, whipping her tail towards me. On the bottom of the foil ribbon, someone had scribbled—
Slip this between the locking mechanism and the door the next time you have guests. Your tribe is waiting. Long live the Academic Assassins!—Table Scrap
STEP ONE: BUST OPEN THE BLACK HOLE
“Our response units are merely guides to grasping the consequences of their actions.” The dulcet tones of Merridew’s voice oozed through the hall. “I daresay most residents are no longer aware of the fact that they are wearing them anymore.”
The door to my cell slid open, revealing Merridew and a round-faced man in a gray suit that seemed a little too large for his pudgy frame. He looked like a child who had raided his father’s closet, his hands swallowed up by his suit’s sleeves.
Merridew escorted him inside. “Spencer. This is Dr. Vonnegut from the Board of Education. Dr. Vonnegut is here to see what progress you have made since arriving at Kesey.”
I sat up from my cot. “Hello, sir,” I spoke in my most hollow Stepford Student voice, as if Merridew were talking through me. “How are you today, sir?”
“Fine, thanks.” He had a few stray strands of brown hair combed over his shiny dome of a head. His skin glistened under the fluorescent lights, covered in a sheen of sweat. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead, only for a fresh bedding of pebbles to quickly bead up across his temples.
I leapt up from my cot and clasped his hand, pumping vigorously. “Madame Merridew has helped me so much. Without her, I do not know where I would be.”
“That is very considerate of you to say, Spencer.” Merridew clutched the man’s shoulder, prying him out from my grip. “Now let the gentleman go….”
“How often,” he asked, “would you say you have received an electric shock?”
“Only when I deserve it,” I managed to say from underneath Merridew’s mental grip.
“Thank you, Spencer,” she said, a vague hint of unease in her voice. The Board of Ed rep may have believed it, but I could tell she had her doubts. “Now, if you will, doctor, we can see how our units work within a larger social enviro—”
“Merridew has made me the man I am today,” I steamrolled over her. “If it were not for her, I would probably be in the street or in jail or six feet under. I have seen the error of my ways, thanks to Miss Merridew and her love and I love her back. I love you, Miss Merridew! Thank you! Thank you for all that you have done!”
“That is very kind of you, Spencer,” she said. She was already escorting him away, the door closing behind them. “Follow me, doctor….”
I didn’t have much time.
I pulled the band of chewing gum wrappers out from the waistline of my pants. Cupping them in the palm of my hand, I licked its metallic surface and slapped the band over the lock before the door sealed shut. I heard the lock automatically latch, but the customary click had muffled itself, hindered by the wrapper-patch.
I grabbed the handle. Closing my eyes, I said a quick prayer—Please work please work please—
The
door opened.
Open sez-a-me!
I peered into the hall, spotting Merridew and the Board of Ed rep wander off.
Every second counted.
I rushed behind them. This required some ballerina-style tiptoeing. If Merridew turned her head, I was dead. If the Man in White sitting in the control room at the end of the hall noticed me creeping behind Merridew, dead. If anyone spotted me on the security cameras—dead dead dead as a doornail.
All I needed was to reach the next set of doors by the solitary unit’s control room right as Merridew walked out. Just grab the handle before it closed behind her.
Piece of cake, right?
“Do you believe your Conduct Response Units are ready for wide distribution?” Dr. Vonnegut asked.
“Let us allow the units to speak for themselves, shall we?” Merridew responded. “You will see that, thanks to our C.R.U.s, everything is under control here at Kesey. Absolutely everything.”
I heard the mechanical lock on the main door to solitary unlatch itself. Merridew held the door open for the Board of Ed rep to walk through. I pressed my back against the wall just at Merridew’s shoulder and silently slid along behind her.
“I envision a pilot program at any public school of our choosing,” she said. “We can provide the principal with enough C.R.U.s for the entire student body.”
Merridew walked through. The door started to close.
I lunged for it.
My hand slipped through the gap just as it was about to close, slamming itself against the meat of my palm. The crushing sensation felt like a dozen bones breaking all at once. I had to stifle a scream—but I held on.
The door remained open by a fraction, jutting out.
No alarms. No jolts. No nothing.
Nobody had noticed.
So far, so good.
Next step—shimmy through the door and into the next hallway directly underneath the Man in White’s nose, dozing behind his Plexiglas barrier. I slithered over the floor as soundlessly as possible, imagining myself as some sort of serpent.
Merridew and Dr. Vonnegut had wandered off, leaving me alone with the Man in White manning the Black Holes. I suddenly heard the canned laugh track of some sitcom. The Man in White must’ve been watching television in the control room just above me. I peered up and noticed the entrance to his station ajar. It was a sliding door with a pair of handles on the outside, just a few feet above my head.
One glance down and I was done for.
An iPad was nestled against the orderly’s chest, the dim blue glow of the screen cast across his face. He’d waited until Merridew was gone before flipping it on. Perfect distraction.
I still held the main door to the units open with my left foot. If the door closed behind me, the heavy thwack would give me away. I had to make sure it stayed open long enough for me to crawl into the control station.
Another piece of cake, right? Might as well eat the whole thing myself….
The Man in White slouching behind the Plexiglas window was dozing off already, his chin dipping into his chest.
So—what was my next move? I had to slip inside the station, reach for the controls and release all the ants from the Black—
The door slipped free from my foot.
Whoopsie….
I felt the edge of the door skid across the top of my toes. I tried to grab it before it was too late. I turned my head back just in time to watch the door slam shut with a hefty THWONK!
The Man in White bolted upright, his iPad toppling off his chest.
“What the—?” He leaned out the control door and dropped his eyes to the floor, where I was sprawled on my stomach.
No time.
No time.
No time!
I leapt into the control room and landed on his lap like a kid pouncing on Santa Claus. The collision forced all the air out from his chest.
“All I want for Christmas is,” I sang as I haphazardly slapped my hands over every last button, “a party with aaaaaaaaaall my pals.”
The Man in White struggled to free his own hands from beneath me, but the tight confines of the control station kept him pinned in place.
“Get off of me! Get off—!”
The metallic rat-tat-tat of multiple locks simultaneously unlatching echoed through the hallway.
“What’re you doing?! Stop—!”
Slowly, one by one, doors began to swing open.
Heads started peeking out from the doors. Ants who hadn’t seen the other side of their cells for months were now cautiously shuffling into the hall.
“Make a break for it,” I shouted from the control station—still squatting on top of the Man in White, slapping his hands away from the controls.
Sully leapt out from her cell. She scanned the hall and saw me struggling. She bounded down the corridor, her strides majestic, wolf-like—and pulled me out from the control room and slammed the station’s door shut. Her reflexes hadn’t diminished one bit since being stranded in the Black Hole. Had she been exercising?
“We’ve got to lock him in here before he alerts the other orderlies,” she said. Pulling off her dog collar, she fastened the leather strap around the door handles from the outside. The Man in White tried to slide the doors open, quickly discovering they were belted together. He pounded his fists against the Plexiglas.
Sully and I looked at each other, winded from the exertion.
“Miss me?” I asked.
“A little. Maybe.”
This, you would imagine, would be as good a time as any to kiss.
Right?
You wouldn’t fault me for trying, would you? I leaned forward, head titled to one side. I closed my eyes and—Lips, here I come….
Sully took my hand and yanked, dragging me down the hall. “Get your head in the game,” she said, charging ahead. “Let’s finish this first and kiss me later.”
STEP TWO: RELEASE THE ANTS
Kesey’s main monitoring station was located at the center of the facility.
“There are five cameras between us and the control room,” Sully said over her shoulder as she led me through a tangle of service tunnels. The concrete corridor was laced in pipes and steam valves, snaking off in various directions. I had the sudden feeling that I’d been shrunk down to a microscopic speck and was now drifting through the main line of some asphalt artery, all the way toward the heart of this building. Toward freedom—or our death sentence.
“Do you know where we are?” I asked.
“Yep.” Sully abruptly halted and kneeled before a steam grate screwed to the wall. She yanked the vent off with a swift tug, as if the bolts had already been loosened. She reached into the flue and pulled out her slingshot. “Always come prepared.”
Sully flipped over the waistline of her uniform. I noticed a pouch no larger than a coin purse sewn along the inner elastic band of her pants. She emptied a stockpile of ammunition into her palm—a pebble, two marbles, plus a penny.
“It’s not much,” she said, “but it’s all we’ve got.”
We made our way up to a service door. Sully slowly pushed it open, trying hard not to make a sound, and lowered herself onto one knee.
“Watch out for glass,” she said and brought up her slingshot. Yanking the rubber band back, she took aim at the camera perched at the far end of the hall.
I heard a slight crackle as the lens shattered from ten yards away.
“One down,” she said, “four to go. Once we’re on the Yellow Brick Road, we’ll have to get to the control room before the—”
Bells started pounding throughout the corridor like a four-alarm fire.
“So much for keeping it a secret,” I said.
Kesey was going on lockdown.
The two of us raced down the Yellow Brick Road. Somebody had repainted it since I had been sent to the Black Hole. The vibrant track slipped underneath my feet like the divider lines on a highway and I was some car zipping by at sixty miles an hour. I could feel my heart rev ag
ainst my chest.
“We’re here.” Sully pressed her back against the wall beside the control room door. It abruptly burst open as a Man in White rushed into the hall.
“Now!” Sully grabbed my hand and slipped through the door just as it clicked shut behind us.
A wall of windows.
I saw a dozen different screens mounted on top of each other, floor to ceiling. For a split second, I thought each screen was a different window.
A lone orderly sat at the controls. He froze at the sight of us. “Wh-what’re you doing in here? This room’s off-limits.”
Sully put on her best Peer Facilitator impression—rigid spine, glazed-over stare, robotic monotone. “Miss Merridew wants all orderlies to report to the Solitary Housing Unit.”
“But…” he started, unsure of himself. “I’m supposed to stay—”
“Merridew needs all hands on deck! Residents are escaping right now!”
The Man in White slowly stood up from the console, hesitant over what to do. “You two, uh…You two better come with me.”
We dutifully followed him to the door, lockstepping alongside him like perfect little automatons—but just as the orderly waltzed out into the hallway, Sully took a step backwards, slammed the door shut, and bolted it, locking him out.
The handle began to jiggle. I heard the rattle of keys from the other side.
“Hurry,” Sully said as she dragged the Man in White’s chair over to the door and jammed its seatback underneath the knob.
I caught myself looking at the monitors, momentarily hoping to see the world beyond these cinder block walls.
What I saw instead was a bird’s-eye view of the hallway. The monitor was set at a low resolution, so I could see grainy images of those ants who had escaped from the Black Hole racing down the hallway. The Men in White were close behind, their C.R.U.s already pulled out and electroshocking. Their features were blurred, like they didn’t have any faces at all. I watched my fellow ants dance that familiar electric slide, no longer in control of their bodies, their limbs jerking through the air.
I stepped back from the monitor and took in the dozen different torturous home movies playing out all at once. All of Kesey was on full display here.
Twenty-four-seven.
Academic Assassins Page 18
