Outcasts

by Jill Williamson

  They passed by classrooms filled with GlassTop desks and Wyndo wall screens. The wall screens in the hallway flashed images of artwork and assignments. Penelope led them to the front door where a thin aspen branch lay against the doorframe, keeping it open.

  Penelope held the door, motioning them to come outside and get behind a hedge of bushes beside the entrance. When the three men were behind the bushes, she carefully closed the door, making sure the branch kept it from shutting fully.

  She joined them in the bushes and peeked over the top of one. Mason followed her gaze. A courtyard edged in shrubs separated the girls’ dorm building from the boys’. Concrete paths wove through the courtyard, curving and curling to different destinations: a garden of flowers, an area with stone tables, a fountain, a strange sculpture of a horse woman. It reminded Mason of Champion Park and he and Ciddah’s picnic. He wondered where she was at the moment and hoped she was safe.

  “I don’t see them,” Penelope said, “but they have to be in there. Let’s run!”

  She crouched low and jogged into the courtyard, head turning as she scanned the area. Mason stayed on her heels. His adrenaline was so high his hands were shaking.

  “Pen,” someone said. The voice was low, and if Mason hadn’t been straining to hear, he might have missed it.

  Penelope took off again, running toward a brightly colored playground.

  As they approached, a figure came down the slide, twisting with the spiral until he slid off the edge and stood. Trevon.

  Movement in the structure brought several more figures into the dim light of the streetlamp above. Mason recognized Jake and two faces from Jack’s Peak, but there were some new children here — children that had to be from the Safe Lands.

  “Levi and Jordan are getting the girls out now,” Penelope said. “We have to hurry.”

  “Who are your friends?” Mason asked Trevon.

  “Grayn is with me,” Trevon said. “And Dakav and Etu brought Holt.”

  “I didn’t dare ask any of the boys in my dorm,” Jake said.

  “Why not?” Ruston asked.

  “Most boys here are filled with the coyote’s mischief,” Dakav said.

  “And Jake’s room is the worst,” Trevon said. “I wouldn’t trust those maggots with my shirt.”

  Jake grimaced. “They play a lot of pranks on me.”

  “The rest of you are certain there are no other boys who’d come with us?” Ruston asked.

  “None,” Dakav said. “Holt and Grayn are different.”

  “Maybe the littles, though,” Trevon said.

  “Yeah, they don’t cause much trouble,” Etu said.

  “And that’s where we’re going now,” Mason said. “Though I don’t see any reason for us all to go. How many boys are there in the littles?”

  “Nine,” Dakav said.

  They could get all nine. “Okay, then. Penelope, why don’t you take Trevon, Jake, Sakima, and …?” He pointed to Trevon’s friend.

  “Grayn.”

  “Grayn,” Mason said. “Take them to the roof. The rest of us will go for the little boys. Seven of us should be enough to fetch nine.”

  “Surely some of the boys will be able to walk on their own,” Ruston said.

  “That’s my hope,” Mason said.

  “Are you sure you can find your way back to the roof without me?” Penelope asked. “The boys don’t know the girls’ building.”

  “You just brought me through it,” Mason said. “I didn’t forget the way.”

  “Okay.” Though Penelope didn’t look happy to be leaving. “Please be careful, Mason.”

  “We have weapons to use if need be,” Ruston said.

  Mason tried not to think about the gun on his hip. Hopefully it wouldn’t “need be.”

  “Can I have a weapon?” Dakav asked.

  “No,” Mason said, “but you can lead the way to the boys’ dorm.”

  Penelope gave Mason one last forlorn look, then grabbed Trevon’s hand and dragged him toward the girls’ dorm. Grayn, Jake, and Sakima trailed after them.

  Mason followed Dakav farther into the courtyard, passing the fountain and the flower garden. Dakav paused at the edge of the courtyard, looked both ways, then jogged to a brown building.

  A rock had been used to prop open the entrance to this building, which was identical to the girls’ building, only reversed. Again Mason thought of Ciddah. What must it have been like to grow up in this place? They trooped up two flights of stairs and out into the hallway on the third floor.

  Dakav pointed to a door on the right side of the hall, then pulled it open and slipped inside. Mason caught the door and peeked into the room. The dim light of a streetlamp outside filtered through the windows, revealing two rows of beds, one on each wall.

  “See if you can find yours,” Dakav said to Mason. “Explaining things before we leave will make everyone calmer.” He sat on the edge of a bed and shook the shoulder of the boy sleeping there. “Yas, time to wake.”

  Beshup pushed past Mason and walked down the row of beds, examining the face of each boy as he went. Mason followed, but he didn’t see Joey or Brian.

  “Chua.” Beshup knelt beside a bed at the end of the first row and stroked the boy’s hair. “Chua, my son, your father has come for you.”

  Mason hadn’t realized Beshup was a father. He knew so little of those who lived in Jack’s Peak. Levi and Omar had visited there often, but Mason had been there only once.

  The men had roused several boys now, and Mason searched the second row for familiar faces. He found Brian first. The boy was already awake, clutching his blankets to his chin, eyes wide. When he saw Mason, his face lit up in a smile. “We’re going to go home?”

  “Yes,” Mason said, though it wasn’t the whole truth. “Can you put on your shoes? We need you to be able to run fast and silent.”

  “Like Owl Man?”

  “Just like the Owl Man, yes,” Mason said, amused that so many had heard of Omar’s antics. His brother had become a legend in only a few weeks. These people must be hungry for a hero.

  Mason found Joey next and told the boy to put on his shoes.

  “Where we going?” an unfamiliar boy asked Mason. He had the roundest eyes Mason had ever seen.

  “You’re not going with us,” Brian said. “You gotta stay here.”

  “That’s Weiss,” Joey said. “He’s not from Glenrock or Jack’s Peak.”

  “That’s okay,” Ruston said. “We’re taking all the boys with us. It’s not safe for them here.”

  Weiss’s eyes actually seemed to get larger. “The school’s in trouble?”

  “Yes,” Mason said. “And we must get you all out quickly.”

  “Before Mr. Hemoth comes.” Joey looked to Mason. “Mr. Hemoth is mean.”

  “Is Mr. Hemoth coming with us?” Weiss asked.

  “No,” Mason said. “He has to stay here.”

  Weiss raised his hands above his head and jumped. “Hooray!”

  “Shh,” Mason said. “We must be silent, like the Owl Man, or Mr. Hemoth will catch us.”

  “He already has,” a man said.

  Mason spun around. A man stood in the doorway, hands on hips.

  “Just who are you people, anyway?” Mr. Hemoth asked.

  Before Mason could construct a response, Ruston shot Mr. Hemoth with his SimScanner. Mr. Hemoth went rigid before he fell like a pine tree and hit the floor with a terrible smack. Mason twitched at the sound. The boys stared. Weiss screamed and covered his head.

  Mason lifted the boy in his arms and started for the door. “Let’s go, boys. Quickly.” He stepped over Mr. Hemoth. Weiss wrapped his arms around Mason’s neck and nestled his head onto Mason’s shoulder. The boy’s arms were so short and chubby, Mason felt smothered.

  The patter of feet filled the hall behind him as he carried Weiss toward the stairwell. Mason opened the stairwell door and held it. The boy trembled in his arms. Mason gripped him tightly and counted those who passed by. Besh
up, carrying his son and holding another boy by the hand. Dakav and Etu, each carrying a boy. Joey and Brian, walking side by side. No Ruston or Holt or their boys. Where were they? Mason peeked down the hall and saw them coming.

  Six adults, nine children. They had everyone. Time to get out of this place.

  When Ruston passed into the stairwell, he said, “I thought I should tie up Mr. Hemoth.”

  “Oh.” Mason should have thought of that. “Good idea. Thank you.”

  They quickly caught up to the others. Though Joey and Brian looked to be moving as fast as their little legs could go, they were holding up the back half of the line.

  Finally the boys reached the bottom level, where Beshup was holding open the stairwell door. It relieved Mason to have everyone in his sights again. How Levi and Jordan and Omar thrived on such exciting adventures, Mason could not comprehend. Give him an injury to mend over this any day.

  They made it out of the building and across the courtyard without incident. As Mason approached the girls’ building, the front entrance door came into view. It looked to be closed, but surely that was only the angle. Holt reached it first and turned back. He set his boy on the ground and pulled at the door.

  “It won’t open,” he said.

  “Penelope wouldn’t have let it close,” Mason said. The girl had been extremely cautious.

  “I’ll be right back,” Holt said.

  “Wait,” Mason said. “Where are you going?” He didn’t want to let anyone out of his sight.

  “The girls usually leave the bathroom window open so boys can sneak in,” he said, walking backward. Then he turned and ran along the side of the building and darted around the end.

  “We should get behind those bushes again,” Mason said, “where Penelope hid us before. At least until we figure out if Holt can get inside.”

  “Agreed.” Ruston brushed by Mason and stepped behind the bushes on the right of the entrance door. “Come on, boys.”

  They had barely assembled in the tight space when a horrible siren split the night.

  “It’s the alarm,” Dakav said.

  Mason’s hopes sank. If they were caught here tonight, all was lost. And what would become of Ciddah? Was Lawten holding her captive? Or was he merely keeping her away until Mason could be apprehended?

  “Stay put,” Ruston said. “All of you get down.”

  The little boys squatted into balls. Beshup put down his son and drew his SimScanner. Though the idea of Mason touching his own gun, SimScanner or not, repulsed him, he set Weiss on his feet. “Squat down.” He made himself draw his SimScanner and peeked over the bushes.

  Lights in the boys’ building flicked on, but Mason saw no sign of guards or enforcers.

  The front door to the girls’ dorm banged open and Holt appeared, a wide grin on his face.

  “Go,” Ruston said. “Go, go!”

  All at once, the boys jumped up and mobbed the entrance.

  “Stay with them, Beshup,” Ruston said.

  Mason squeezed the grip of his gun and kept his finger far from the trigger. He tried to count as each boy went inside, but there was too much confusion.

  “Hey, stop!” A guard was running toward them, gun in hand. “G12 to base. Intruders at SLBS. Request backup.”

  Ruston took off, sprinting toward the guard. He couldn’t know whether the guard had a stunner or a real gun. That was true courage: doing what was necessary in spite of the possible consequences.

  The guard seemed taken aback by Ruston’s actions. “Stop!” He aimed his gun at Ruston. “Put your hands on your head and turn around.”

  Ruston kept running toward him. The guard fired. Nothing happened, which meant he must be using a SimScanner.

  The guard looked down at his weapon and slapped it with his palm, fired it at Ruston again. “G12 to base. We’ve got ghosts!” Eyes wide, he dropped the SimScanner and drew a second gun. “SimScanners won’t work. Copy? Use — ”

  But it was too late. Ruston fired his SimScanner at the guard first, and the guard went down the same as Mr. Hemoth.

  Mason shooed Holt and Weiss inside and held the door open. Ruston picked up the guard’s guns and ran toward Mason. He passed by in a gust of wind, and Mason chased after him. The siren was wailing indoors too.

  At the end of the hall, Beshup stood, holding the stairwell door as the boys filed through. Panic overwhelmed Mason suddenly. The hallway seemed to stretch out an infinite distance before him. Everything morphed into slow motion. Beshup at the door. The boys going through. Nearly there, Etu and Dakav, each carrying a child. Joey and Brian trotting behind them. Ruston sprinting past Holt, who was waving Weiss to hurry. Weiss, halfway between Holt and Mason, plodding along.

  Was Mason in shock? Or was fear taking over his mind?

  A ding on his left drew his gaze. An elevator. Its doors slid open and two women stepped out, entering the hallway between Ruston and Holt. Before Mason could think of what to do, Ruston turned back and stunned one. She collapsed.

  The second woman screamed and ran three steps toward Holt, but when she saw Ruston, she doubled back to the elevator and pushed the button. The doors slid open, but Ruston shot her with the SimScanner before she could get inside, and she fell in the open doorway. The elevator closed against her legs, then slid open again.

  “Hey!” Beshup yelled from the stairwell door, Joey and Brian standing beside him. “I need help carrying these boys up the stairs. They’re too slow.”

  Ruston reached Beshup first and swept Joey into his arms. Holt looked back at Weiss, then turned around and headed for him.

  “Stop!” a voice yelled from behind Mason.

  Mason turned. A second guard had entered the building and was headed toward them, gun in hand. SimScanner or stunner? That was the question.

  He should shoot him, but instead, Mason ran toward Holt and grabbed Weiss on his way, tucking the boy on his hip. “I’ve got him. Into the elevator!”

  But Holt didn’t follow. He screamed, clenched his right hand into a fist, and fell to his knees. The guard must have gotten him with the SimScanner.

  Mason stepped over the woman and set the boy in the elevator. “Wait right there, Weiss.” He holstered his gun and ran back out, grabbed Holt under the arms, and dragged him past the woman, who was now moaning, and into the elevator. The guard pointed his weapon at Mason, but since he had no SimTag, the gun had no effect.

  Mason managed to push the woman’s body out of the way so that the doors finally slid closed. He pushed the button for five, and only when it started to rise did he breathe. He crouched over Holt and slapped his cheek. He didn’t know how long SimScanner stuns lasted. If it was as long as a manual stun, he wouldn’t be able to get the boy up to the roof and over the plank.

  “Is Mr. Hemoth going to catch us?” Weiss asked.

  “Nope. Mr. Hemoth should still be tied up.”

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Mason shooed Weiss into the hall, then dragged Holt out. It wasn’t until he’d dragged Holt away from the elevator that he noticed the floor number on the frame of the elevator.

  Three.

  He lowered Holt to the floor, then leapt over his body to try to catch the elevator. The doors shut and he hit the Up button. Too late. It was already up on five. Should he hit the down button? He watched the elevator numbers count down: four, three, two. There is stopped. Which meant that someone else had called it and it would soon come back to three.

  What was he going to do? There was no time. The battle in Glenrock came back to him again, when he’d tried to carry Shaylinn.

  He hoisted Holt over his shoulder, but he only made it three steps before his knees buckled. The boy was too heavy. Weightlifting must’ve been a required course for boys in the boarding school, because Holt’s arms were twice as wide as Mason’s. He would never make it up two flights of stairs. For the first time ever, Mason wished he’d spent more time trying to build muscle strength.

  He glanced at the elevator. It w
as now on level one. He crouched at Holt’s side. “Can you hear me?”

  Holt moaned.

  Mason had no choice but to hope that was a yes. “We have to leave you, Holt. I’m so sorry. You’re a hero for getting that door open, for wanting to leave with us. When they ask you what happened, tell them you heard a noise and went to investigate, and that some strangers were taking the boys and you tried to stop them.” Mason took a deep breath. The elevator was on two. “If at some point you can get out into the city, go to the Highlands Department of Public Tasks and ask for Dayle. Tell him Mason sent you. He’ll get you to us. Okay?”

  The elevator dinged. Mason grabbed Weiss and ran for the stairwell.

  “Found some!” a man yelled.

  Mason reached the stairwell and yanked open the door. He ran inside and started up the stairs. The door banged shut behind him, then open again. The man was coming, which meant Mason was going to have to shoot him. It was only a SimScanner. And if he did it in the stairwell, he’d have the advantage of being above his pursuer.

  He rounded the fourth floor door and ran up the first half toward five. He could hear the man thundering up the steps below him. Mason set Weiss down.

  “Keep going up, Weiss.” Mason drew his gun. “Up to the top.”

  The boy scampered up the stairs. Mason looked down the stairs, aiming his gun. He clicked off the safety.

  The footsteps grew nearer. A drop of sweat rolled down Mason’s temple. The man’s head appeared, then his torso. Mason aimed, set his finger on the trigger.

  The man saw him and stopped, lifted his arm, gun in hand. “Don’t shoot.”

  Mason winced and fired.

  The man grunted, as if fighting the electrical disruption of his nervous system. He toppled backward, fell on his back, and slid down the half flight of stairs until he came to rest on the landing below.

  Mason’s arms were trembling. He eyed his attacker’s motionless body. Falling down concrete stairs could be injurious, to say the least. He hoped the man hadn’t broken any bones or received a concussion in the fall. He should check on him, at least make sure he was still breathing, but the sound of a helicopter pulled him back to his goal.