The Bully Chip

by Glenn Wood

The students who sat at desks adjacent to Callum would also have been right at home in an invading Mongol horde. They all looked as if they could gut an enemy without a twinge of conscience. The whole class was studying Callum the way an alligator looks at a chicken. Malevolence filled the room like fog.

  Darryl tapped a metal ruler against his desk in an irregular fashion. The clatter of metal against wood was just loud enough to be irritating. No one else in the room made a sound. The big bald man kept tapping for several more minutes then abruptly stopped and placed the ruler on the desk. He rose and addressed the class.

  “I quite liked school,” he said to Callum’s surprise. “Not the learning. But when it came to finding kids weaker than me to pick on, well, there was no better place.”

  This was more like the Darryl Callum knew.

  “And today,” the big man continued, “I’m going to show you how to make your victim’s life hell, without gettin’ too much heat from the teachers.”

  Callum put up his hand.

  Darryl hadn’t expected this. He was momentarily flustered. “What do you want?” he snarled.

  “This isn’t one of my elected classes. Can I be excused?”

  Callum had decided on a course of passive resistance. He was going to make things difficult for Lester and his cronies by being as irritating as possible.

  “You got a smart mouth, kid,” snapped Darryl. “Gonna make it all the more fun when Lester shuts it for good.”

  “Didn’t work out that well for him last time he tried,” said Callum, calmly.

  A vein throbbed on Darryl’s forehead. He clenched the edges of the desk with his meaty hands, then drew in a deep breath. The bald man forced a smile. He spoke to the rest of the class. “Mister smart-arse here is the subject of today’s lesson.”

  Callum stiffened.

  Darryl gave a small smile, enjoying Callum’s reaction. “Today you’re in for a treat, class. We’re bringing in an expert on exploiting people’s weak spots.”

  This didn’t sound good to Callum. What kind of twisted person would possibly help Lester and his thugs?

  The door opened and Lester walked in. Callum wasn’t surprised to see him. This was exactly the kind of class you’d expect the inventor of the bully chip to teach.

  Lester was looking extremely pleased with himself.

  “Good afternoon, pupils,” he said cheerfully, then looked squarely at Callum, “and victim. I’m just here to observe today and to introduce your new teacher. Here she is right now.”

  Sophie entered the room.

  Callum felt like he’d been slapped by a giant fist.

  “Soph …” he began.

  The girl faced him, a purple haze glinting in her eyes, her lips curled into a cruel sneer. “Who gave you permission to speak?” she snapped.

  Callum suddenly pushed hard on the Thunderkit’s rims and rammed his desk aside. It tipped over with a loud crash.

  “What have you done to my friend?” he bellowed and aimed the chair squarely at Lester, planning to run the man down.

  He’d barely gone two metres before Darryl was upon him, grabbing the chair, stopping it, slamming on the brakes and holding Callum back. The man moved fast for a musclebound hulk.

  Lester hadn’t even flinched during Callum’s charge. When he spoke, his voice was calm. “I’ve fixed her. She’s not bound by your worthless moral code any more. Friendship, compassion and humanity mean nothing to her now. She belongs to me.”

  Callum fought against Darryl’s restraining arms but couldn’t move. “You said you wouldn’t put the chips in us,” he raged.

  “Changed my mind,” Lester said with a shrug. “I wanted her to fix the faults in my chip, but she refused, so I decided to make her. Turns out the chip I implanted stifles creativity, which unfortunately means she can’t solve my problems. I’m sure she can cause some though. Especially for you.”

  Lester patted Sophie on the head. The girl didn’t pull away, she just gazed straight ahead. It was creepy and wrong.

  “I’d love to stay and watch, but I’ve got an army of bullies to mobilise. Enjoy your lesson,” said Lester as he left the room.

  Silently, Callum vowed to make Lester pay for what he’d done. He’d get the evil chip out of Sophie’s ear as soon as he could. But for now he could do nothing. Darryl dragged him back to his original position and righted his desk.

  The big man hissed in his ear. “Disrupt my class again and I’ll hurt you.”

  Sophie addressed the students, barely acknowledging Callum’s presence. “Everyone has weaknesses, and as bullies it’s your job to find out what they are and use them. I had a friend who was disabled and one thing he struggled with was impulse control.”

  The class laughed and Callum felt his cheeks redden.

  “Oh, the poor boy’s blushing,” mocked Sophie. “I do feel sorry for him.”

  “I don’t need anyone’s sympathy,” snapped Callum.

  Sophie smiled, and Callum knew he had played into her hands. He composed himself and resolved not to respond to any more of her taunts. This wasn’t his friend speaking; it was someone he didn’t know.

  Sophie continued with her lecture. “As I was saying, the best way to get under some people’s skin isn’t to hit them.” She laughed maliciously. “Instead you have to undermine their confidence, isolate them, push their buttons until they explode, like our friend just did. It makes them seem unreasonable and short-tempered, and then you can start turning their friends against them.”

  Callum could hardly believe what he was hearing. Sophie was talking about him as if he was a lab rat. There wasn’t a trace of humanity in her voice. It was as if the chip had converted her into a cold, malevolent machine. If this was the way the graduates of bully school were going to behave, then the world would be a pretty miserable place in a few years time.

  Callum forced a smile and bit back a reply. If his lack of reaction was getting to Sophie, she showed no sign of it.

  Darryl walked back to the head of the class. He was getting bored. Sophie stepped aside and let him take over but her eyes stayed firmly on Callum.

  “Enough of this psychological mumbo jumbo,” the big man interjected. “Let’s get back to a subject that’s much more practical in the day-to-day art of bullying. Weaponry.”

  Darryl picked up a ruler from the desk, the length of it almost disappearing inside his massive mitt.

  “Now I’m going to show you how to turn everyday items into bullying tools.”

  Callum knew that no matter how painful this next lesson was, it couldn’t possibly hurt as much as the last.

  Fourteen

  At the end of a very long and painful day, Callum and Jinx were taken down a ramp to a barred room in the basement of the administration block.

  Callum was shocked when he saw his friend. Jinx was moving slowly, clearly in pain, and sported a swollen black eye and facial cuts. His taped hands had been encased in a solid plastic tube that was secured at the fingertips and wrists with handcuff ties.

  Callum knew he didn’t look much better. One of his fingers was cracked or broken and had swelled up like a balloon, and his upper body and neck were covered in blackening bruises.

  Callum called through the bars to Darryl and Parson as the thugs locked them in for the night.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself, beating up on kids.”

  “Ain’t nothing compared to what you did to us last year,” muttered Parson.

  Darryl agreed. “Yeah, and you won’t even notice after tomorrow. Not once Lester has messed with your brains, like he did to your friend.”

  The thugs shared a bitter laugh and left the room.

  Jinx questioned Callum. “What did they mean about messing with our friend’s brain? Where’s Soph?”

  Callum explained what he’d seen in the classroom.

  “The evil rat. We have to save her,” said Jinx.

  Callum nodded. “We will but we need to get out of here first. How badly are you hurt?
”

  Jinxed coughed and gave a small wince. “This is pretty standard for me,” he said bravely. “How about you, Cal?”

  “I’m okay. No permanent damage – yet.”

  “What happened in the limo?”

  Callum told his friend what occurred while he was unconscious.

  “So Cain fooled us all,” muttered Jinx with a shake of his head.

  “Looks like it,” said Callum. “Now, let’s see if we can find a way out.”

  He and Jinx examined their prison. The room was fairly large but dimly lit. The only illumination came from a single fluorescent tube in the ceiling. There was no natural light and no windows. They were in a corner cell so the rear and left-hand walls were solid stone. The right-hand wall was made of thick metal and the front was dominated by thinly spaced bars that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The door consisted of a series of solid steel struts attached to the frame by heavy hinges.

  The cell’s only contents were three battered spring wire beds with thin mattresses, an old toilet, an iron bathtub and a chipped handbasin.

  “Any ideas, Jinx?” said Callum.

  The boy checked the cell with a critical eye. “I can’t see a way out, not without tools.” He shook his head. “What kind of school has a dungeon anyway?”

  “One run by Lester Smythe,” replied Callum.

  He scanned the area outside the cell. From what he could see, they were housed in the boiler room. Dozens of pipes in a variety of sizes snaked across the walls and ceiling, all leading to a row of large, highly pressurised cylinders. High-tech gauges were set in an electrical control panel that was welded to the far wall. The panel was behind a thick plexiglass cover, secured with a massive padlock. The cylinders hummed and occasionally purged a jet of steam.

  “Anything we can use out there?” asked Jinx.

  Callum examined the boilers through the bars. “I reckon Soph could do something with the heating system if we could get her to it. And if we could get the chip out of her. And if we could saw through that padlock.” It was a big couple of “ands” and “ifs”.

  Callum slammed the footrests of the Thunderkit against the bars. The clang of metal echoed through the basement.

  “There must be some way out of here,” he said, his voice rising in frustration. He spun his wheelchair around. “Can you use your bad luck, Jinx?”

  The boy raised his covered hands. “They’ve pinned my thumb down, but that might not matter. I don’t think my luck is controlled that way; it’s just a warning that it’s coming. I’ll try.”

  Jinx concentrated hard on the bars of the cell. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. Nothing happened. The boy gasped, lurched to a nearby bed and sat on the edge.

  “Sorry,” he said despondently. “I’ve got nothing. The tape might be having more of an effect than I thought.”

  Callum gave his friend a reassuring smile. “That’s okay, Jinx. You did your best. Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.”

  But he couldn’t. There was no way out of the cell.

  Darryl returned awhile later and threw packets of chips and dried fruit through the bars, then left without saying a word. They assumed these meagre rations were their dinner.

  Darryl’s footsteps receded, then they heard a sudden grunt of pain, the sounds of a brief struggle, then a weighty thud. Callum and Jinx moved closer to the bars and peered into the gloom. A shape slid through the shadows and then stepped into the light.

  Callum felt a surge of hope. It was Lucy.

  The tall girl was dressed in dark clothing. She had a pack on her back and wore gloves. She held up a set of keys.

  “Let’s get you out of there,” she whispered.

  She inserted one of the keys into the door and tried it. Nothing happened. She selected another one. This time the lock clunked and the door swung open. She entered the cell.

  “How did you find us?” asked Callum, incredulous.

  “Earlier in the day, Sophie texted me the name of the school and it all came flooding back. I replied to her text but didn’t hear from her. When I rang her phone and got no answer, I got a bad feeling. I crept into the school and overheard some kids talking about you. They said you were in the boiler room.” She raised her arms as if her feat had been nothing. “And here I am.”

  Callum laughed. “You make it sound so easy. How’d you get the keys off Darryl?”

  Lucy winked. “They taught us all kinds of things at Sethel Stymer, including how to apply a sleeper hold. I might have squeezed a bit harder than you’re supposed to, so he’ll probably be out for quite a while.”

  “Shame,” said Callum. “You’re a lifesaver. Literally.”

  Lucy blushed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” She scanned the cell, a look of concern creeping into her eyes. “Where’s Sophie?”

  Callum explained what had happened.

  Lucy gasped. “That’s terrible.” She assumed a business-like manner. “Right, let’s get out of here and go find her.”

  Jinx stumbled over to the girl and held up his heavily bound hands. “First things first. Have you got anything that will cut through this?”

  Lucy pulled the pack off her back and rummaged around inside. She took out a bowie knife and removed the blade from its sheath. The edge glinted, even in the low light of the basement. She handled the knife with ease and quickly sliced through the plastic tube, ties and tape, freeing Jinx in a matter of minutes.

  Jinx rubbed his raw and swollen wrists and flexed his fingers, wincing as feeling returned. “Thanks,” he said.

  Lucy spun the knife over the back of her hand and snapped it into its sheath in one smooth movement.

  Callum was impressed. He shot Lucy a quizzical look.

  She smiled. “My father wanted a boy. Now, let’s find Sophie and get out of this hellhole.”

  “Not straightaway,” he said, pushing his chair closer to her. “We’ll have to split up. There are a few other jobs we need to do here as well.”

  “Like what?” said Lucy.

  “We’ve got to help the students and close this school down.”

  Jinx chimed in, “Cal’s right. And we still have to find enough evidence to clear his name. We can’t leave till we’ve done that.”

  “Fair enough,” said Lucy. “I’ll be more than happy to help you destroy this vile place. What’s the plan?”

  Callum thought for a moment. “What are your computer skills like, Lucy?”

  “Not as good as your friend Sophie’s,” she said. “But okay.”

  “Could you break into the school’s computer system and send whatever you find about us back to your computer at home?”

  Concern registered on Lucy’s face. “I’m not sure but I can certainly try. I’ll see what’s on the terminal in the office.”

  “Do you remember talking to Cain or Lester about framing me for the school fire?”

  Lucy tilted her head, thinking. “Vaguely, but nothing definite.”

  “Right, well that’s what you’re looking for, evidence that Lester and Cain were behind the arson attack.” Callum studied the girl. He was sure he could trust her now. “I also think you’re the best person to find Sophie. You know the school better than me or Jinx. Can you look for her as well?”

  “Will do. I’ll scour the place till I find her,” said Lucy with a nod.

  “Don’t spend too long on the computer, Sophie’s your priority,” suggested Callum. “But don’t take any risks. If you need help, come and get us straightaway. Jinx and I will be in the school dormitory. We’ll see if we can find some fire hoses. If we do, we’ll use them to short out the kids’ chips.”

  “Brilliant,” replied Lucy. “Trip the fire alarm and sprinklers to cover yourself when you’re ready. Hopefully Lester and his thugs will think there’s a fire and take off.”

  Callum shook his head. “We might fool his brainless henchmen like that, but not Lester. He’s as mad as a box of frogs, but he’s not stupid.”

&nb
sp; “True. Just to be on the safe side, I’m going to text one of my friends and get her to alert the police if she doesn’t hear from me in a few hours.”

  “Good idea,” said Callum. He was itching to get into action.

  Lucy pulled out her phone, composed the message and sent it.

  Callum wheeled out of the cell and into the boiler room. “The first thing we should do is make sure Darryl stays out of our way. Could you guys carry him into the cell?”

  Jinx and Lucy nodded. They ran to where Darryl lay, then dragged his body (none too gently) back to the barred room and locked him inside.

  “Great job,” Callum said. “When this is all over, we’ll meet by the school gates.”

  Everyone agreed, and they crept out of the room into the darkening evening.

  Lucy moved cautiously through the administration block, staying in the shadows and watching for movement. The only light came from a full moon filtered through the windows.

  She checked the walls and ceilings for sensors, praying that the building wouldn’t be alarmed. It wasn’t. So far, so good.

  Lucy was searching for a computer terminal. She assumed the whole system would be linked, so once she had access to one terminal, she’d be able to view them all.

  She found what she was looking for in the reception area of the main office. A PC sat on a desk and a green light winked at her, indicating the machine had been left in sleep mode.

  Lucy switched the computer on and waited impatiently for it to start. As the machine powered up it blared out the opening music. Moving with speed, Lucy reached for the volume switch and shut it off. She dropped into a crouch and listened for approaching footsteps. None came.

  The screen illuminated blue and the home screen came up. The wallpaper was a photo of a kitten wearing the sort of bling you’d normally associate with a rap star.

  There’s no accounting for taste, thought Lucy.

  She found the PC’s general information easy to access. She flicked rapidly through the desktop folders and discovered little of interest. Once she was finished, she tried to connect to the server. It was password protected. Crap, thought Lucy. She didn’t have the hacking skills to break a password. The best she could hope for was to guess it. She had three chances before the system would lock her out.