The School of Revenge

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The School of Revenge Page 15

by Michael Richan


  Which is perfect, Aaron thought as he mopped, since it will give me time to construct a lie.

  —

  It was Sunday night, just before dusk, when Aaron’s phone rang. It was Boone.

  “We’re on,” Boone said. “Meet me at the library. Don’t go in, though. Do you know the old book drop at the end of the parking lot?”

  “Yeah,” Aaron replied.

  “Leave your bike out of sight and meet me there,” Boone said.

  “When?”

  “Right now,” Boone answered, and hung up.

  He could hear his mother downstairs, the TV faintly buzzing. Sunday night, he thought. You couldn’t pry her away from the TV if you tried.

  He put on a jacket and quietly climbed out his window, then pedaled away from the house. By the time he approached the library, the sky had completely darkened.

  The library parking lot was surrounded by large shrubs, and Aaron found one he could slip his bike inside. If it had been daytime it definitely would have been noticeable, but in the darkness the leaves of the shrub made it almost impossible to see.

  The rusted book drop was about the size of a mailbox, and he found Boone behind it, wearing a backpack, out of the view of the street. He joined him.

  “Keep an eye on that entrance,” Boone said.

  Aaron looked at the library. From their vantage point he had a perfect view of the side door. A single bulb in a fixture above the door popped on, casting a dim yellow shade over the door’s surface and the ground below.

  “What am I looking for?” Aaron asked.

  “It won’t be long before they start coming out,” Boone said.

  “What’s going to happen?” Aaron asked. “Tell me the game plan.”

  “Just before the Scolo begins to molt,” Boone said, “he’ll send people away. Like I told you, we prefer to molt by ourselves, in a quiet place. But he won’t send everyone…he’ll keep one or two people to guard him, people that he trusts. We’ll have to deal with them to get to the Scolo. Once we find him molting, all I have to do is insert the stinger and let the poison do its work.”

  “How do we deal with the guards?” Aaron asked.

  “We do whatever we have to,” Boone replied, pulling a gun from his pocket.

  —

  Phillip sat at a table, folding paper. Three others were with him, silently taking a sheet from a stack, folding it in two places, and forming another stack of completed flyers. He looked at the brochure’s cover: it was an invitation to a special event in two days, a multiple exactation that promised to be a climax to the School’s season of revenge. It excited him to contemplate the event.

  He’d come to the School that night expecting to see another exactation, but instead found himself assigned to paper folding, and he was beginning to wonder if there would be a show tonight at all. Something seemed different in the air.

  He couldn’t help but think of Aaron. It made him angry every time his friend entered his thinking. He tried to remember the last occasion when the two of them had not hung out over the weekend, and couldn’t remember one. They’d been friends for many, many years. Aaron’s refusal to honor his commitment to the School bothered him, even though a huge part of him agreed with much of what Aaron was saying.

  He always thinks he’s right, he thought, feeling more irritation rise.

  When Herrod grilled him the other day about Aaron’s absence, he’d tried to soft-pedal his response, but Herrod wasn’t having it. The man was extremely skilled at getting the answers he wanted, and Phillip found himself spilling details without really wanting to. He’d felt immediate regret after he finished ratting out his friend.

  Now, sitting in the room with the other two kids, monotonously folding pamphlets, he felt his anger slowly fade to sadness at how things had played out. He slid his thumb down the side of the flyer, creating a crease.

  It is what it is, he thought. It was his choice. I can’t change it. He’s probably at home now, playing Xbox.

  And I’m here folding paper.

  Herrod walked into the room with Benjamin, and the two of them briefly examined Phillip and the other kid’s work before leaving. In the few seconds that Phillip glanced up to look at Herrod, he noticed that he looked extremely pale; his skin was white and pasty.

  I wonder if he’s sick, Phillip thought.

  Herrod and Benjamin were talking just outside the room, and Phillip found himself straining to hear their conversation. He thought he heard Herrod saying something about “it’s time.”

  Benjamin walked into the room. “We’re shutting down for the night. Everyone go home.”

  One of the kids looked up. “No show tonight?”

  “No, not tonight,” Benjamin replied. “Come back for the event in a couple of days. We’ll see you then. Now let’s go, everyone out.”

  Phillip rose from his seat.

  “Phillip, can I see you for a second?” Benjamin asked.

  “Sure.” Phillip followed Benjamin out of the room. In the main entryway, kids were beginning to leave through the library’s side door.

  “Can you stay a while longer?” Benjamin asked.

  “OK,” Phillip replied. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You and I are going to hang out here a bit, and keep an eye on things.”

  “An eye on things?” Phillip asked.

  “Yeah, don’t ask questions,” Benjamin replied. “Just make sure everyone is gone. I want you to go around to each room and check. Go to the theatre and check there, too, just in case someone decided to wander back. When you’re done, come find me down the hall in room three.”

  Phillip turned to leave.

  “Oh, and Phillip?” Benjamin asked.

  “Yes?” Phillip replied, turning back.

  “Don’t bother checking room seven. I checked it already, and locked it.”

  “Alright,” Phillip replied.

  As the other kids slowly left and Phillip made his way down the hall to scout out the theatre, he felt a sense of pride that Benjamin had selected him for this extra duty from all the others.

  —

  Aaron watched as the kids streamed out of the building. Some went to their bikes in the bike rack; others made their way to cars in the parking lot. Some just walked off, disappearing down the street. He guessed that no one was over 20.

  After a few minutes things calmed down as the last of the stragglers took off. The door sat silent and closed, still dimly lit by the bulb above it.

  “When do we go in?” Aaron asked.

  “Not yet,” Boone replied. “Soon.”

  Aaron waited, wondering who was left inside and if they’d have to use violence once they got in. Part of him wanted to leave, afraid of what might happen — but another part of him was enjoying the excitement. When he thought back on what they’d done in Bellingham, stealing the stinger, he shook his head, convinced he’d been crazy to go along with Boone’s plan.

  Now, waiting to enter the library and confront the thing that had infected him, he felt even more excitement — an anxiousness blended with a desire for revenge.

  More revenge, he thought. Can’t seem to get away from it.

  “Look,” Boone said.

  Aaron saw the door crack open slightly. A hand appeared, its thumb raised.

  “That’s it,” Boone said. “Come on.”

  A signal? Aaron wondered. Boone’s got someone on the inside?

  They walked across the parking lot to the side door of the library. Once there, Aaron noticed that it had been propped open; a book was resting on the ground between the door and the frame.

  Boone pulled the door open and removed the book, setting it quietly on a shelf.

  “The room where they made you an Adherent,” Boone whispered. “Take me there.”

  Aaron led Boone down the hallway, turning to a section of rooms. Ahead on the left he could see an open door with light streaming out. “In there,” he whispered to Boone.

  Boone moved in front of
him and walked toward the open door.

  “Shouldn’t you get out the stinger?” Aaron whispered.

  “Not yet,” Boone replied.

  As Aaron followed Boone inside, he was surprised to see Phillip and Benjamin. Phillip was sitting at a table, facing them. Phillip looked up to see them enter just as Benjamin moved behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” Phillip asked. “And who’s this?” He nodded at Boone.

  “They’re going to help us,” Benjamin said, walking up behind Phillip. He was holding a long syringe in his hands, and Aaron’s eyes went wide as he realized Benjamin was about to stab Phillip with a needle. Phillip picked up on Aaron’s surprise and turned just as Benjamin swung the syringe toward him; it landed in his cheek. Phillip’s hands came up to defend himself as Benjamin pulled the syringe away.

  “Damn it, Julian!” Boone said, leaping forward, tackling Phillip to the ground, holding down his hands. Benjamin slipped next to Phillip and inserted the needle into Phillip’s neck, depressing the plunger. Within seconds Phillip’s resistance softened and his body relaxed. Aaron could see his eyes still moving, looking at his attackers.

  “Help me get him back into the chair,” Boone said, lifting one arm. Benjamin tossed the empty syringe and grabbed Phillip’s other side. Together they maneuvered him upright and placed him in the chair. His body fell forward onto the table. Aaron could see Phillip’s eyes still open, watching them.

  “What are you doing to him?” Aaron asked.

  “You want your friend back, don’t you?” Boone asked, removing his backpack. He pulled out a length of cord and tossed it to Benjamin, who pulled Phillip’s body back into the chair. It fell forward again, hitting the table.

  “Come help me!” Benjamin said to Aaron.

  Aaron turned to Boone, unsure of Benjamin’s intent.

  “He’s on our side,” Boone said to Aaron. Aaron watched as Boone pulled something else from the backpack, and he was worried that it might be the stinger; that perhaps everything Boone had told him had been a lie, and some other plan was playing out that he was unaware of or unable to stop. When Boone’s hands emerged from the backpack holding a piece of leather, he felt relief.

  Aaron walked to Benjamin’s side. “Hold him up!” Benjamin said, as he began to wrap the cord around Phillip, tying him to the chair so he wouldn’t fall forward.

  Boone pulled Phillip’s arm onto the table and slipped the leather sleeve over it. Aaron recognized it as the sleeve he’d used at the fish shack: Boone was removing the head from the creature inside Phillip.

  Phillip wasn’t able to move his body, but his eyes were open, darting from side to side, trying to understand what was happening to him.

  Aaron felt concern for his friend, knowing how painful the process had been. He suspected Phillip was aware of everything that was happening. He wondered if perhaps in addition to being able to see, he could hear, too.

  “It’s going to hurt, Phillip,” Aaron said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t fight it.”

  Aaron watched as the sleeve rose, hinting at the shape of the creature that lived inside it. It seemed to be travelling up and down Phillip’s arm, searching. It stopped and paused, then jerked suddenly.

  “Found it,” Boone commented.

  Phillip’s body remained still, but Aaron could see the horror in his friend’s eyes as the creature dug into his arm, searching for the head it would devour.

  Aaron leaned down so his mouth was near Phillip’s ear. “When you put your arm into Herrod’s box, they put something into you,” Aaron said. “This is taking it out. I know it hurts, but it’ll be over in a second.”

  “Where is it, Julian?” Boone asked.

  “Julian?” Aaron repeated, looking at Benjamin.

  “Yeah, Julian’s my name,” Benjamin said.

  “And you’ve been working with Boone the whole time?” Aaron asked.

  “Julian!” Boone repeated. “Where is it?”

  “Last door on the right,” Benjamin said, tossing a key to Boone.

  “Do you want to stay here with your friend?” Boone asked Aaron. “Or do you want to come with me?”

  “Is he safe here?” Aaron asked, looking from Boone to Benjamin.

  Julian, he reminded himself. His name is Julian, not Benjamin.

  “He’s fine with me,” Julian replied.

  “I’ll go with you,” Aaron said to Boone.

  “Alright,” Boone replied, turning to leave the room. Aaron followed him into the hall, where they made their way to the room Julian described. The door was closed. Boone slipped the key into the lock.

  “It’s molting in there?” Aaron asked.

  “Let’s hope so,” Boone replied, unlocking the door. “I wouldn’t want to face it in its normal state.”

  Boone pushed the door open and they walked into the dark room. Boone reached for a light switch, but it didn’t work, and they were left with only the light that streamed in from the hallway.

  After a few moments Aaron began to make out details. It was larger than the other rooms, and had several desks stacked against a wall. On the ground in the far corner was a large mass that occasionally spasmed with a shudder. As they approached, Aaron got a better look at it. Its head and three sections had emerged from an old shell, sticking out four feet, bright and red in contrast to the filmy white of the discarded skin that was bunching up below the point where the new body emerged. The enamel of the creature’s new body glistened; it was coated with a clear slime that made it shiny. As they watched, it lurched, breaking another section free, allowing the legs on each side to slide forward and begin searching for the ground.

  “Kinda disturbing, isn’t it,” Boone said, looking down.

  “Yeah,” Aaron replied.

  “If we don’t stop from turning, that’s what we’d become,” Boone said, digging in his backpack.

  The creature below them seemed to sense that something was wrong. The head and first sections, having been out longer, were more active and their legs had more strength. It began moving more, twisting back and forth in an attempt to accelerate the molting.

  “What’s it doing?” Aaron asked.

  “It knows we’re here,” Boone said. “Sometimes the back half can come out a lot faster than the first half. I’d better hurry this up.”

  Boone pulled the stinger from his backpack; it was wrapped in cloth, which he unwound from the football-sized amputation. The cloth stuck to its side where it had previously been attached to the scorpion’s tail. As Boone ripped the cloth from it, fresh liquid seeped from the wound.

  Boone placed the point of the stinger directly over the head of the creature, but pulled it back quickly when the head reared up slightly, bringing its legs together, trying to defend itself.

  “Well, I thought stabbing it in the head might get the job done quicker,” Boone said, “but that might not be the best approach.”

  As Aaron watched, the upper body of the creature changed, transforming from a giant centipede into the head and upper torso of a man. At the point where the next section of it slipped from the shedded skin, it became centipede again, but from that point out it looked completely human. The head twisted on the neck, facing them.

  It was a face Aaron hadn’t seen before. It looked like an old, angry man — his eyes sunken and dark, his lips curled in a snarl.

  “What do you want, Boone?” the man’s voice hissed. Another section of the centipede slipped from the carcass, slowly transforming from the hard shell of the creature into the lower part of the man’s abdomen.

  “You remember me?” Boone said. “From thirteen years ago?”

  “Of course I remember you,” the man replied. “What do you want?”

  “I’ve come here to kill you,” Boone replied, brandishing the stinger. “Emperor Scorpion, believe it or not.”

  “I don’t,” the man said, his body twisting to face them. “They don’t exist anymore.”

  “I found one!”
Boone said, walking closer, trying to decide where to place it. As he moved to the spot where the new section emerged from the shell, the man’s arms began to move, flying quickly upward. Aaron saw the stinger knocked out of Boone’s hands, flung across the room like a ball.

  “Grab that, will you, Aaron?” Boone said, positioning his foot over the part of the creature still trapped inside the exoskeleton. He pressed down hard, a crunch crackling through the air. The half-man raised his mouth upward and emitted a chilling howl.

  Aaron turned from the scene, searching for the stinger. It had landed against a wall on the far end of the room and rolled somewhere out of sight. He got on his knees to search for it.

  The creature tried to turn to face Boone, but not enough had emerged for it to be able to twist fully around, and Boone’s pressure on its tail was stopping the molting process, keeping the new exoskeleton from emerging from the old. “Aaron!” Boone called. “Hurry it up!”

  Aaron placed his head on the floor, searching under everything. A desk in the corner looked the most promising, and he crawled to it, trying to see under it.

  The creature reverted to its original form. Boone leaned back from it, leaving one foot on its tail, but knowing it was now able to maneuver more easily. The head and upper segments turned to face him and lashed out. He ducked just as the mandibles approached his face, barely missing the attack.

  “Aaron!” Boone yelled. “Now!”

  The stinger had disappeared. Aaron scoured the floor around the desk, but it wasn’t hiding anywhere he could find. He stood and glanced at quickly Boone; the creature was now facing Boone, lunging again and again. If a few more sections emerged from the shell, it would have enough length to reach him. He had to find the stinger, fast.

  A half open drawer in the desk caught his attention; it was a file drawer, near the bottom. He pulled it open a little; inside was the stinger. Somehow it had fallen into the drawer after hitting the wall, and the force had caused the drawer to close a little. Aaron yanked the drawer fully open and reached inside, taking care not to land his hand accidentally on the sharp point. His palm reached around the fleshy sac and he lifted it out of the drawer.

 

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