Arrival

by Chris Morphew

  ‘How do you know?’ Jordan whispered.

  ‘Because,’ said Peter impatiently, ‘if they had caught him, Officer Reeve would’ve said so. Besides, no way were Calvin’s guys ever going to come out on top in that fight. All the way out at the airport with two men down already and no way to call for – ow!’

  Across the room, I could see Michael and Tank laughing. One of them had just chucked over a bead and nailed Peter right in the eye.

  Peter grabbed a bead from our table and stood up to return fire.

  ‘Peter!’ said Ms Benson sternly from the front.

  ‘I was just stretching, miss!’ said Peter, looking scandalised.

  ‘You can stretch on your own time. Right now you’ve got work to do,’ said Ms Benson.

  ‘Yes, miss.’ Peter sat down again. He made an obscene hand gesture at the other table and then turned his attention back to our conversation.

  ‘I just don’t get how the security guards were so quick to find us last night,’ Jordan said in a low voice, once Ms Benson had looked away. ‘They had no reason to suspect us, did they?’

  ‘Can’t have,’ said Peter. ‘Wouldn’t have let us go if they did.’

  ‘Maybe they knew Crazy Bill was dangerous,’ I suggested. ‘If they knew about his, you know, super strength, then maybe they –’

  I stopped at the smirk on Peter’s face. ‘What?’

  ‘Mate, you just used the words super strength like you thought that was something a person in the real world could actually have.’

  ‘You saw what he did last night!’ I blurted, drawing a glare from Ms Benson. ‘What, you think that security guy just –’

  ‘I don’t know what I saw last night,’ Peter insisted, ‘but if Calvin and his mates thought Bill was that dangerous, why have they been letting him roam the streets all this time?’

  ‘I think most of them are just doing what they’re told,’ said Jordan. ‘Calvin’s obviously on edge, but I don’t think the rest of them know what’s really going on here.’

  ‘And we do?’ asked Peter.

  ‘We know more than they do, at least,’ Jordan told him. ‘Officer Reeve was way too casual talking to us back there to actually be working with Calvin. I think he probably gave away more than –’

  Jordan stopped short, seeing Ms Benson walking towards us. We all made a show of being hard at work with our beads. I turned last night over in my head yet again, trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t involve super powers.

  ‘All right,’ I said, when she was back out of earshot, ‘so maybe Calvin didn’t know about Crazy Bill’s … special abilities, or whatever you want to call them. Maybe it’s not about that. What if they were out there last night because Calvin figured out Bill knew something about Tabitha?’

  ‘Why’d they just let us go home then?’ said Peter. ‘If Calvin’s so worried about being exposed or whatever, why haven’t they hauled us three off to –?’

  There was a knock on the door and another teacher walked into the room. She was a dumpy-looking woman I didn’t recognise, with short brown hair and a big mole on her chin.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Peter. ‘Pryor.’

  ‘The principal?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ said Peter, rolling his eyes, ‘the astronaut.’

  Ms Pryor walked across to Ms Benson and whispered something in her ear. Ms Benson nodded and cleared her throat. ‘Peter, Jordan and Luke, would you come here for a moment? Ms Pryor would like a word with you in her office.’

  Chapter 13

  MONDAY, MAY 11

  94 DAYS

  ‘Busted!’ Tank called with a grin as the three of us filed out after Ms Pryor.

  Peter gave him the finger again as he walked out the door.

  ‘I saw that, Peter!’ Ms Benson warned.

  ‘Sorry, miss!’

  We followed Ms Pryor across the school in silence. Clearly this wasn’t a coincidence – the school principal suddenly here, suddenly wanting to talk to us. Someone must have told her about last night. Had Calvin figured out what we were really up to? Was this just a handover? Was Ms Pryor just taking us to the front office so we could get picked up and dragged away by security?

  I looked questioningly at Peter, but he just shook his head and mouthed, ‘Play dumb.’

  A couple of Year 7 girls poked their heads out of a second-floor window as we walked past.

  ‘Back inside please, ladies,’ said Ms Pryor, smiling up at them. ‘I’m sure you have plenty of work to be getting on with.’

  The heads disappeared again.

  I stared at Ms Pryor, trying to get a read on her. She seemed friendly enough, but there was something about her that gave me the feeling she couldn’t be trusted. It was almost like she reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t figure out whether it was just the usual principal creepiness, or … something else.

  Ms Pryor led us across the quad and up the stairs to the front office. Without saying a word, she rounded a corner, strode down the narrow hallway, and stopped at a steel door with no handle.

  She pulled out a card and waved it front of a sensor on the doorframe. There was a clunk as the door unlocked, and she pushed it open, motioning for us to go inside. I felt like I was being ushered into a prison cell. Seriously, what principal needs that kind of security?

  Pryor’s office was small and cramped, but it still had that too-perfect vibe I was getting so familiar with in Phoenix. Everything was neatly arranged. An enormous red and gold rug stretched out across the floor, half-covered by a wooden writing desk that was probably an antique. Two identical vases of flowers sat on little pedestal things, one on each side of the desk. They gave the room this weird symmetrical look, like it had been designed by a robot.

  Behind Pryor’s desk was a tapestry that took up nearly the whole wall. It was a picture of a green field filled with enormous trees, wildflowers and wild animals, with rolling hills in the background and a big golden sun. I thought maybe it was supposed to be a picture of the Garden of Eden.

  The whole room was creepy and foreboding, which I guess is half the point of a principal’s office, but at least there was no sign of Calvin’s men.

  There was another clunk as Ms Pryor pulled the door shut behind us. She smoothed down the hem of her suit jacket, took a seat at her desk and waved a hand at a row of three chairs on the opposite side. We sat down.

  Ms Pryor reached across her desk and opened the laptop that was sitting there. She leant forward and clicked the mouse a few times, clearly not in any hurry to get started, almost like she was enjoying keeping us twisted in suspense. She obviously wanted to make it very clear who was in control here. Like we needed reminding.

  Pryor lifted her hand up from the keyboard, made a tiny adjustment to her screen, then sat back in her chair again and finally opened her mouth to speak. ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said, as if we’d had any choice. ‘Mr Hunter, Miss Burke, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you both. I’m very much looking forward to seeing what you can achieve as part of our family here in Phoenix.’

  That’s what Mr Ketterley had called us on the night we arrived. A family.

  I stared at Pryor. The more I got to know this ‘family’, the less I wanted anything to do with –

  Then I realised with a jolt who Pryor reminded me of.

  Right after Dad moved out, Mum decided it would be a good idea for me to get some counselling. It was a plan that lasted exactly one session and was probably the worst in her long line of misguided attempts to deal with the fallout from the divorce without actually dealing with it.

  The counsellor she’d stuck me with was this smiley-faced woman who went to great pains to convince me that the two of us were going to be best friends. But clearly it was all a joke. Deep down we both knew she was getting paid to serve someone else’s agenda.

  And right now I was getting exactly the same vibe from Ms Pryor.

  ‘My apologies for not being very visible at school lately,’ she went on. ‘I’ve been
incredibly snowed under with one thing and another.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, aware that she was looking right at me. ‘Right. No worries.’

  ‘I trust you’ve had no trouble settling in?’

  ‘No, Ms Pryor,’ said Jordan, shifting slightly in her seat. ‘Everyone’s been really helpful.’

  ‘Excellent. Yes, I’ve been told that Mr Weir in particular has taken it upon himself to show the two of you around.’

  ‘Just doing my job, miss,’ Peter grinned.

  Pryor’s expression didn’t budge, and I had to wonder whether Peter’s usual talking-to-teachers charm had met its match.

  ‘Indeed,’ she said. ‘However, Mr Weir, while I’m pleased that you’re displaying such a selfless attitude, I must say that I’m disappointed with some of the locations you’ve elected to explore.’

  ‘Sorry?’ said Peter, his grin faltering.

  ‘I have become aware, for instance, of the excursion the three of you took to Phoenix Airport last night.’

  Surprise flashed across Peter’s face.

  Ms Pryor smiled back at him. ‘There are no secrets in Phoenix, Mr Weir.’

  Her eyes shifted across to her computer screen, and then back onto us. ‘I must admit,’ she said, her voice suddenly cooler, ‘that I am more than a little concerned by this behaviour.’

  ‘Concerned, miss?’ said Peter innocently.

  ‘Yes, Mr Weir,’ Ms Pryor said firmly. ‘I am concerned that three otherwise intelligent members of the Phoenix High School community allowed themselves to be lured away by a man who, quite honestly, should never have been permitted to set foot in this town in the first place. Have you any explanation for this extremely foolhardy behaviour?’

  ‘No, Ms Pryor,’ Peter mumbled, staring at the floor. He’d clearly had a lot of practice acting remorseful in front of teachers.

  ‘None of you?’ Ms Pryor pressed.

  Jordan and I shook our heads. Pryor’s eyes bore into us. How much had she actually been told about last night?

  ‘This man – whom I believe you have been calling Crazy Bill – is a disturbed and dangerous individual.’ She gave a little shudder, like she was thinking of something horrible. ‘Thank goodness Officer Calvin found you out there,’ she added heavily. ‘I hate to think what might’ve happened to you if he hadn’t come through to check on the refurbishments to the airport!’

  ‘Refurbishments, Ms Pryor?’ said Jordan earnestly, almost matching Peter for acting ability.

  ‘Surely you must have wondered why the whole area had been vacated?’ she said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Phoenix Airport’s facilities have never been quite on par with the rest of the town, and Mr Shackleton has just commissioned a building project to bring them up to scratch.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Jordan, nodding thoughtfully. ‘That makes sense.’

  Of course, it didn’t really make any sense at all. I fought to keep my face expressionless, but my mind was rushing to poke holes through her story. So Calvin just happened to be wandering through at the same time we were meeting with Crazy Bill? Backed up by three armed guards? In the middle of the night? To check on refurbishments to an airport that was already brand new?

  It was ridiculous. But right now, I knew the smartest thing to do was pretend to swallow whatever Ms Pryor wanted to feed us.

  She stared at each of us in turn, like she was trying to figure out whether we’d bought her story. Then she leant forward in her seat, pressed her fingertips together, and said, ‘I’d like you to tell me what he said to you.’

  The temperature in the office suddenly dropped about ten degrees.

  ‘What?’ said Peter. ‘I mean, excuse me, miss?’

  ‘The homeless man,’ Ms Pryor said. Her eyes flickered to her laptop again, and I had the sudden suspicion that she was recording our conversation. ‘What did he say to you last night, out at the airport?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Jordan, a little too quickly.

  Ms Pryor raised an eyebrow. ‘Nothing?’

  I cringed as Jordan’s expression flickered.

  ‘Nothing worth hearing,’ Peter jumped in.

  ‘Like you said, miss, he’s crazy. Most of it was just ranting. You know, the government stealing his thoughts and all that.’

  Ms Pryor stared at Peter, right into his eyes, like she was having a go at stealing his thoughts. Peter stared back, his face completely blank.

  ‘I see,’ she said. ‘Well, whatever he said, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that they were only the schizophrenic ravings of a paranoid delusional. Paying them any attention would be a mistake.’

  ‘Right,’ said Peter. ‘Unless we want to learn how to make a helmet to protect ourselves from the mind control beams.’

  Ms Pryor’s nostrils flared slightly. ‘Curiosity is a slippery slope. I would advise the three of you to tread more carefully in future if you do not wish to bring trouble upon yourselves. I’m sure that it goes without saying how extremely upset I will be if I hear any further reports of such reckless behaviour. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, Ms Pryor,’ we said together.

  ‘Wonderful,’ she said, suddenly friendly again. She stood up and came around to shake each of our hands. ‘I really am so glad that we’re all understanding each other.’

  She unbolted her office door and ushered us back outside.

  As soon as we got back out into the quad, Peter let out a massive sigh of relief. I guess as far as he was concerned, we’d wriggled out of trouble and that was the end of it.

  But at that moment, I was feeling anything but relieved. And from the look on Jordan’s face, she’d come to the exact same conclusion as me.

  Pryor had told us a whole lot more than she’d meant to back there. The whole point of that conversation had obviously been to convince us that Crazy Bill was not to be trusted, and to explain away every suspicious thing we’d seen last night. And as far as I could see, there was only one reason Pryor would do all that.

  Everything Crazy Bill had shown us so far – the abandoned airport, the recorded message, the plot to kill everyone outside of Phoenix… It was all real. Every last stomach-churning bit.

  And Ms Pryor knew it.

  Chapter 14

  TUESDAY, MAY 12

  93 DAYS

  The next morning, we found out just how serious Ms Pryor was about putting a stop to our ‘reckless behaviour’.

  I got to school right on the bell and ran into Peter at the bike racks.

  ‘C’mon,’ he said as I finished chaining up my bike. ‘We’re all meant to go to the hall in period one.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Dunno. Special assembly or something.’

  ‘Oh. Well, at least we get out of history,’ I said. ‘Couple more days for you to rewrite that essay for Mr Hanger, right?’

  ‘Nope,’ said Peter, gritting his teeth. ‘Ran into the Ranga about five minutes ago. Told me not to think I was getting an extension just because we were missing his class. He wants the new essay by the end of the day.’

  ‘Are you going to do it?’ I asked as we walked off towards the hall.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Peter. ‘I’ll just print off another copy of the old one and hand that in again. As if he’s gonna notice.’

  We found Jordan in the crowd of kids pushing their way towards the theatre, and the three of us made our way inside.

  ‘You guys know what this is about?’ she asked.

  I shook my head. ‘Do you think maybe –?’

  ‘Hang on,’ Peter interrupted as I started sidling into the back row after Jordan, ‘let’s get seats in the middle.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Well, if you still reckon Pryor thinks we’re up to something,’ Peter said, ‘wouldn’t it be better to sit down there somewhere, instead of hiding up the back looking all secretive?’

  ‘Yeah, good thinking,’ said Jordan, and we moved back into the aisle to find some seats closer to the front.

  It was good thinking, but seeing as Peter wa
s still convinced the two of us were just being paranoid, I didn’t get why he was the one suggesting it.

  But then, as Jordan stopped at three empty seats halfway down the room, Peter side-stepped in front of me and took my place next to her.

  I shook my head and turned my attention to the stage. So far, there was no-one down there, and even the chairs that had been set up for our last assembly were missing.

  ‘I was talking to my mum last night,’ said Jordan, her voice low. ‘You know how she went to the medical centre yesterday? She said that in the middle of her appointment, Calvin burst into the room, all bloody and bruised, and demanded to see the doctor.’

  ‘About what?’ said Peter, putting his feet up on the seat in front of him.

  ‘Apparently, the nurses weren’t letting him out,’ said Jordan. ‘They wanted to keep him there for a couple of days – you know, to monitor his injuries. But Mum said Calvin was totally determined to leave. He said he didn’t have time to waste lying around in hospital beds when there was a security risk on the loose.’

  ‘Crazy Bill,’ said Peter. ‘Told you he got away.’

  ‘So did they let him out?’ I asked.

  ‘Dunno,’ said Jordan. ‘The doctor got up right away and asked Mum to leave. He said they’d need to reschedule her appointment.’

  ‘Seriously?’ I said. ‘Is he even allowed to do that?’

  ‘Well, Mum wasn’t happy, but what was she going to do about it? They’ve booked her in again for tomorrow,’ said Jordan.

  ‘Weird,’ said Peter. ‘But, hey, at least you two don’t have all that end-of-the-world stuff to worry about anymore, right?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Jordan.

  ‘Well, now that Pryor’s pretty much explained it all. Got to admit, she made a lot more sense than –’ ‘You actually believed that crap?’ said Jordan, almost pityingly.

  Peter’s eyes flashed and I could tell he had a biting response ready to roll out. But, because it was Jordan, he took a second to reword it into something gentler.

  ‘Look, I’m not saying I one-hundred-percent agree with everything Pryor told us back there, but what’s more believable: her story about the airport getting upgraded or the crazy hobo’s tale of a secret evil plan to blow up the human race?’