Blind Rage

by Michael W. Sherer

  I broke the silence first. “Rough night? You look tired.”

  “I didn’t sleep.”

  “Me neither. Scared?”

  “No, I’m not scared.”

  “I am. When I got back to the apartment last night it was thrashed. I kept wondering if they’d come back.”

  She looked surprised. “You mean those men the other night? The ones who chased us?”

  “Yeah. They searched my place. What a mess.”

  She fell silent for a moment.

  “Red helped me straighten up,” I said. “It wasn’t too bad. Hey, it’s just stuff.”

  “I kept thinking about Helen and how that could have been us,” she said in a small voice. “And yesterday almost felt normal, like nothing happened. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  We said nothing the rest of the way, each lost in thought.

  The first sign that her premonition might come true came about twenty minutes into Prescott’s class. He pitched an assortment of questions to get a discussion started, and finally lobbed a softball at Tess that she should have been able to field in her sleep. When she couldn’t come up with any answer, let alone the right one, he jumped all over her for not being prepared. Naturally, she took it out on me after class, chewing me out for not giving her the correct assignment. It wouldn’t have done any good to argue even though I knew I’d told her which pages to read, so I clamped my mouth shut.

  The real trouble started after third period. Just before the class ended, one of the runners—kids who volunteer a free period to help in the office—came and pulled me out of class.

  “What’s it about?” I said. No one other than my employers knew where I was, and they could easily have texted me.

  The kid shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Mr. Olton.”

  The assistant principal, my favorite administrator in the whole world.

  I sighed. “Tess, can you get to your next class? I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sure, fine, leave me here. I should have no trouble finding my way. After all, I’m only blind.”

  I thought her first sentence had a sharp enough edge to cut to the bone. The rest was overkill. The runner kid turned away, a mixture of pity and fear on his face as he watched me wither. I grabbed his sleeve as he moved for the door.

  “Hey, wait. What’s your name?”

  “David.”

  “Yeah, okay. David, escort Miss Barrett here to her next class, will you, please?”

  “I have to get to my own class. I don’t have time.”

  “Yes, you do,” I said. “She’s a fast walker.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll take her. Come on, come on, let’s go.”

  “Give me a break, will you?” Tess said. “Oliver, take my book bag.”

  “Please?”

  “Oh, for . . . Yes, please take my book bag.”

  “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  I hustled out and broke into a jog down the hall, weaving and darting through the masses of students milling from one class to the next. I figured Tess would be all right for a few minutes with an escort, but I niggled the little seed of worry that the summons from Olton had planted in my head. Out of breath by the time I got to the office, I had to pull up in front of the secretary’s desk and take a couple of deep breaths before I could talk.

  “Mr. Olton wants to see me?”

  The secretary looked up and waved to an empty chair behind me. “He has someone with him at the moment. I’ll let him know you’re here as soon as he’s finished.”

  I sat on the edge of the chair and looked around, trying not to let my impatience show. I let three minutes go by, then two more before I focused on the secretary. She felt me staring at her and checked her watch before glancing at Olton’s closed door. She turned back to her work without looking at me. Another five minutes went by before Olton’s doors opened and a teacher walked out. The secretary looked at me and nodded toward Olton. I rose and walked to his door, catching him just before he sat down at his desk.

  “You wanted to see me?” I said.

  His face went blank. “I think you’re mistaken.”

  “A kid named David came and pulled me out of class just before the end of third period. He told me you wanted to see me. I’ve been sitting out there for ten minutes.”

  “There’s been some mistake,” he said. “I didn’t send for you.”

  “Then sorry for the interruption.” I turned and scratched my head on the way out of the office. Had the kid, David, made a mistake? Or was someone playing a joke? If so, who? No one knew me well enough—or disliked me that much, I hoped—to pull a prank on me.

  Tess.

  With the halls now empty, I fairly flew over the polished concrete floor to the classroom we had left at the end of third period. I passed it at a dead run and rounded the corner at the end of the hall, taking the route Tess and David most likely would have taken to her next class. The building was laid out like a grid, her fourth-period class in the third hallway down. Voices grew louder as I drew closer. Low, deep voices of boys jeering, laughing, the high voice of a girl crying, pleading. I ran faster.

  I took a short flight of stairs three at a time and rounded the corner into the three-hundred wing. Four of them hemmed Tess in a circle, playing a mean game of blind man’s buff. I recognized Tad and two others from the baseball team. The fourth roughly shoved her across the circle to another jock, laughing as she stumbled and bit back a cry. Those facing me looked up as I ran toward them, making the others turn in surprise. The ball player holding her by the shoulders grinned and shoved her back across the circle to Tad, but he was staring at me. Tess bounced off him and fell to the floor between him and another player who bent down to hoist her up. With four-to-one odds they probably expected me to stop and reconsider. I didn’t.

  I barreled into the one bent over Tess and knocked him ass over teakettle, as my Nana used to say. He flew into another one, catching him below the knees and bowling him over. I backed up quickly, my eyes on Tad, until I felt Tess right behind me.

  “Tess, get up!” I said. “It’s Oliver. I’m right in front of you.”

  “Oliver,” she sobbed. “Where have you been?”

  Still in shock, Tad looked at the others to see if they were going to help him, or if he was on his own.

  “No time for that,” I told Tess. “Pull yourself up and hang onto me. Do it now.”

  She patted my leg, grabbed a handful of fabric, and got to her feet. Tad eyed me warily and took a tentative step closer.

  “This is a private party,” he said with a sneer. “You weren’t invited.”

  “I kind of figured that,” I said as Tess got a grip on my waist. I could hear her crying. I murmured to her, “Hang on tight and go with me, Tess.”

  “Where you going?” Tad called, taking another step.

  I kept my weight forward, ready for him to make a move, but I backed away from him, pushing Tess behind me toward a classroom door.

  “You had your fun, Tad. Time to go.”

  The player I’d knocked over was back on his feet and now shuffled nervously over to his backpack on the floor next to the wall.

  “Come on, Tad,” he said. “We’re late as it is. Let’s get out of here.”

  “I want to see if lover boy here dances as good as his girlfriend,” Tad said.

  The other two circled in closer, apparently more interested in helping Tad than getting to class. I moved back some more.

  “You want a go with me, that’s fine,” I said. “Anytime. What you did was chicken shit, and next time you think of getting near Tess, I’ll mess you up, Tad. I mean it.”

  “Come on, let’s get him,” he growled, moving in.

  I backed Tess up to the door with a bump, turned, and opened it, shoving her inside as Tad swarmed over my back, his two buddies not far behind.

  “A little help here!” I yelled into the classroom. I caught a glimpse of a room full of sta
rtled faces before the door shut.

  Tad wrapped one arm around my throat and pounded my head and shoulder with his fist. I staggered away from the door, grasped his forearm, and threw him over my hip onto the floor. By then the other two waded in, throwing punches. I got my arms up in front of my face and the first few blows bounced off harmlessly. But a fist to my midriff doubled me over, and I gasped for air and cringed, waiting for another to finish me off. The sound of the door opening saved me.

  “What’s going on here?” a voice demanded.

  Footsteps pounded down the hall, signaling retreat. My mouth worked like a fish out of water. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  “Are you all right?”

  Air rushed into my lungs and I put my hands on my knees, taking several more deep breaths before I could say, “Yeah, thanks.”

  “What happened?” The concerned face of a teacher peered at me.

  I waved in the direction Tad and his buddies had fled. “They hassled Tess. I broke it up.”

  “You should report this to the office.”

  “Thanks, but we’re late for class. Maybe later.”

  “Well, if you’re sure you’re all right.”

  “Fine, really.”

  I followed him back into the classroom and took Tess’s arm.

  “Excitement’s over, people!” the teacher called out. “Settle down.”

  “Come on, let’s go,” I murmured to Tess. I led her out while the teacher tried to get the class under control.

  She was racked with sobs, and her shoulders shook as I put an arm around her. She shrugged it off.

  “How could you do that?” she cried. “You left me!”

  “I’m sorry, Tess, really. It was a trick. They called me to the office to get me away from you.”

  “You never should have left me alone. You’re supposed to work for me.”

  “What was I supposed to do? They said Olton wanted to see me. I couldn’t say no to the vice principal.”

  Tears streamed down her face. “You could have waited. Or taken me with you. I’m your responsibility. It’s your job.”

  “I got it, Tess. It’ll never happen again, I promise.”

  I retrieved her book bag from the far side of the hall, walked to her side, and tried to take her arm. She shook my hand off.

  “It’ll never happen because I’m going to make sure Alice fires you. You’re terrible! You let them humiliate me.”

  “I came back, didn’t I? Why didn’t you hit your panic button? Fred and Barney would have gotten here pretty quick.”

  “I couldn’t get to my phone! Why do you think?” She clutched my arm. “Oh, just take me to class. Now I’m in trouble for being late.”

  “I’ll explain it,” I said. I glanced back at the room number of the classroom we’d just vacated. “I’ll get the teacher in that classroom to vouch for us. It’ll be okay, Tess.”

  “No, it won’t. I’ll never trust you again.”

  Her words flew in close and jabbed with venomous barbs. We walked in silence until the sting wore off a little.

  “Are you okay?” I said quietly. “Did they hurt you?” I couldn’t imagine how terrified she must have been.

  She sniffed. “I’m fine. Nothing that some ice and ibuprofen won’t help.”

  “I really am sorry, Tess.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  I gave up and shut my mouth.

  CHAPTER 38

  Reluctantly, Tess let Oliver lead her to the commons. She still didn’t want anyone to see her. Even though she’d had a class period to calm down, she knew she must look a mess—eyes puffy and red from crying, face streaked and dirty, hair flying every which way. But she couldn’t do much about it. Oliver had turned out to be useless as a bodyguard, and she doubted he’d be any better at hair and makeup. Not that she would let him within ten feet of a girls’ restroom. Her stomach growled. Despite the indignities she’d undergone, she felt hungry. There was nothing to do but let Oliver take her to lunch.

  “What would you like to eat?” Oliver asked her as they walked into the commons.

  The sheer volume of noise in the commons amazed her. She hadn’t given it a second thought the year before, but now . . . Without her sight, the clamor seemed to hit her ears with that much more force, like walking into the sun after being in a dark room had assaulted the eyes.

  At least I don’t have to worry about that anymore.

  “A turkey sandwich, please. Jack cheese, avocado, and lettuce,” she said.

  He guided her to the sandwich station and they stood in line, taking one step closer each time someone ahead of them got his or her order. They didn’t have to wait long before Oliver ordered two sandwiches. When they were ready, Oliver put a paper sack into her hand to carry and took her arm. He leaned in close, his breath warm on her cheek. She smelled a hint of cinnamon.

  “Where would you like to sit?” he said.

  “Well, not with Tad and his friends,” she said. She clamped her jaw.

  After a few moments, Oliver said, “You have to talk to me sometime, Tess.”

  “No, I don’t. You work for me. All I have to do is tell you what to do.”

  “Fine, then tell me where you want to sit.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Oliver. I don’t care.”

  He fell silent after that, guiding her with a hand on her elbow and the lightest touch in the small of her back. He gently pulled her to a stop, and she heard the scraping of a chair on the floor. The hard edge of a chair nudged the backs of her knees, and she lowered herself into the seat. She felt for the table in front of her, and pulled herself closer. Oliver pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. All around them, students carried on loud conversations.

  “Hey, you guys mind if I sit here?” a voice said over the din.

  “Matt!” Tess said. “Of course not! How are you?”

  Another chair scraped against the floor.

  “I’ve been looking for you guys everywhere.” Matt said. “What’s going on?”

  “What isn’t going on?” Oliver muttered.

  Tess fished in her pocket and pulled out a smartphone. She held it up.

  “My dad’s,” she said. “Want to see if there’s something on it?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Matt tried to be nonchalant, but Tess heard the excitement in his voice. He took the phone out of her hand.

  “When were you going to tell me about this?” Oliver said in a low voice next to her ear.

  “Like I’ve had a chance today to tell you about it.”

  Oliver sucked in a breath.

  “Uncle Travis gave it to me last night,” she went on, a little more gently this time. “You’d already left.” She paused, but he didn’t say anything.

  Well, it’s too bad if his feelings are hurt.

  She faced where she’d last heard Matt’s voice. “So, Matt, what do you think?”

  “Oh, there’s definitely an embedded file here,” he said. “Give me a minute to pull it up. It’s very clever. There’s a text file here named ‘TB’ that’s about the last thing saved, but buried in the text is a JPEG. A picture of you, Tess, with some dude—”

  “Let me see that,” Oliver said. “Do you always carry your laptop around with you?”

  “Pretty much,” Matt said.

  “Oh,” Oliver said. “It’s Travis.”

  Tess thought hard. “That must have been taken the night he came back from Afghanistan.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s source code embedded in the photo. I got it. I assume you’re supposed to upload this to a link somewhere. Mind if I check your e-mail, Tess?”

  She sighed. “Sure, why not?”

  The events of the past few days swirled through her head, a dizzying array of violent and confusing experiences that had led to nothing but more trouble.

  “Wait, Matt,” she said. “Don’t send it yet. I can’t do this anymore. I want to stop. Can you, like, send a message with the file?”

  “Sure, I can
tag something on it before I upload it.”

  “Tell them I want to stop. This is it.”

  Tess heard the tapping of keys on the laptop.

  “Done,” Matt said.

  Tess’s phone bonged once, almost immediately. Startled, she took it out and keyed voice activation.

  “He says you can’t,” Matt said before she could even retrieve her message.

  “People are getting killed,” Tess said, her voice turning shrill. “I can’t keep doing this.”

  Matt’s hands flew over the keys, and they clacked in syncopated rhythm. The sound stopped for a moment.

  “He says what you’re doing is too important. ‘World-changing,’ he says. If you stop, even more people will die.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “Tell him, Oliver.”

  “You can do this, Tess,” Oliver whispered fiercely. “It’s the only way they’ll leave you alone.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But I’m through. He can’t make me do it.”

  “What the heck is this?” Matt said suddenly.

  “What?” Oliver said. “Show me.”

  “It’s some kind of code, I think,” Matt said.

  “Hieroglyphs,” Oliver confirmed. “Hang on, I can translate. It’ll be easier if I have paper and pencil.”

  He rustled through the book bag, and soon scratched out a message letter by letter.

  “You’re not going to like this, Tess. It says your e-mail account is being watched. He wants you to do one more task. It could save thousands of lives.”

  Tess heard more scratching.

  “It says he’ll be in touch,” Oliver said. “That’s it.”

  “That’s it? I have to do something else?”

  Tess’s phone chirped, signaling an incoming text message. She issued a voice command to retrieve the text, but nothing happened.

  “There’s something wrong with my phone,” she said.

  Oliver took the phone from her. “It’s a picture message, not text. More hieroglyphs. Wait.”

  She heard the pencil scratch more letters on the paper.

  “He wants you to open a new e-mail account. Don’t let anyone know. Well, anyone but us, I guess.”