The Impossible Pitcher

by Charles Curtis

  “Have you seen Dex?”

  Sophi shook her head. “I’ve been in here most of the day except for a very quick trip to the cafeteria. We can’t reach out to him either, our parents disabled texting anyone but them on our phones.”

  I was immediately concerned. I thought he’d find me between classes to check in. Had he been abducted? If that was the case, I’m sure we would have been told and removed from school. Did his parents keep him home “sick”? That seemed more likely.

  After I convinced Sophi to come out of the Art building, I grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria, and we sat side by side in Math class as Mr. Crowley droned on about who knows what. I took a few notes from the blackboard but mostly continued to scribble doodles.

  I jumped thanks to a sharp poke in my ribs. Sophi had just elbowed me and indicated with her head to look toward the window on to campus. There was Coach Schmick sauntering across the grass toward the athletic center, holding a cup of coffee. Even with the skies above turning gray, he still sported his trademark mirrored sunglasses. Finally! “Good luck,” Sophi mouthed.

  I quietly left class, pretending I was going to the bathroom. As soon as the door to Crowley’s class closed, I headed quickly toward Schmick’s office, all while trying to avoid being caught or seen by another teacher, dean or Headmaster Hoyer himself.

  I was successful. I knocked on the football coach’s door. The dual-mirrored shades focused on me from behind a massive dark-wood desk. I tried ignoring the glass case in the corner filled with footballs marked with dates from significant wins over the years and tall, gleaming trophies (ours was on display in the entrance to the athletic center).

  “There he is! Mah miracle man!” he yelled. His face creased into a frown and a glare. “Wait a second, aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”

  “I have a free period.” Good thinking, Alex! “I figured I’d get started early on next season. Do you by any chance have the game tape from the win over Harmon High?”

  He chuckled. “Thought you were a pitcher these days, Puh-tuiac. I like what I see. Of course I’ve got the tape. Didn’t you get a copy when I gave it to the team after the season?”

  I was ready for that answer.

  “I, uh, lost mine,” I said. I was met with another glare. “But I was actually hoping for the footage from the stands. It’ll help me concentrate on what Jimmy did with his footwork.”

  I couldn’t see his eyes, but I guarantee Coach Schmick was studying me, trying to figure out what I was angling at. My heart thundered as I finally arrived at the possible moment of truth.

  “You’re in luck,” he replied. He swiveled in his huge leather desk chair, took a key and unlocked a large drawer on his metal cabinet, grabbing a CD in a plastic case marked “12-19 STATE CHAMP V HARMON HIGH, CAMERA #1 BLEACHERS.”

  “Get it back to me by the end of the week. You lose it and I wring yer neck,” he said as he handed it over. But when I reached out to grab it, he didn’t let it go, holding the case with an iron grip. He lowered his head so I could see his bloodshot eyes through the tops of the shades.

  “I’ve been hearing things, Alex.” I’ve never heard him use my first name before. “Heard you’ve been having ‘academic’ troubles. Heard you and ol’ Dexy been having some fights. Heard y’all went out and plunked that Lupino boy right on the butt.”

  “You listen to me and you listen to me good,” he continued, his voice getting quieter but more intense. “If you want to stay on this team, let alone compete to be a startin’ quarterback, you keep your nose outta trouble. Understand?”

  “Yes sir,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could. He let go of the CD.

  “Alright now,” he said. “Happy watching.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I arrived minutes later at the computer lab attached to our library, the only place I could think of to watch a video off a CD. I scampered over to a computer and slid in the video, all while looking over my shoulder, fully expecting a teacher to grab me and escort me to the headmaster to explain why I was cutting class.

  A video window popped up and I click over toward the final 30 minutes of the four-hour footage. Coincidently enough, I’d come close to the Hail Mary moment. There was Jimmy Claw running around, trying to make plays despite an injured shoulder. Not long after this, he’d run a trick play in which he’d throw to one of our receivers behind the line of scrimmage and would then make a catch of his own.

  WHAP! A hand grabbed me hard on the shoulder. I screamed and leaped up.

  “Hey Tooey!” It was Flab. A librarian somewhere said “Shhhhh.”

  “Dude, you’re cutting class to watch our game again? What a rebel!”

  “No, I, uh …”

  “Hey, whatever, I’ve watched that thing like a billion times. I’m not judging.”

  Whew.

  “Me and the line are going for a lift after school, you wanna join us?” he asked.

  I shook my head. I had to go right home the second the final bell rang.

  Flab studied my face. “Something wrong?”

  “Nah, I’m just … I’m fine.”

  He nodded but still looked concerned. Then his face lit up.

  “I heard you nailed Kenny with a pitch! Dude, that’s what I’m talking about. Avenging what he did to Jimmy, nice job.” He punched me in the shoulder.

  “It was an accident and Kenny is—”

  “Oh I know, an ‘accident.’” He made scare quotes with his fingers. “You keep telling the right people that. Later.”

  “Later.”

  Back to my vital task. I skipped ahead past my game-winning throw. The field was filled with fans celebrating, many of them lifting me, Dex, and Jimmy up over their heads. As I turned down the volume on the computer, I felt a pang of sadness—it was the beginning of trouble and the end of any semblance of normalcy. Ignore it, Alex. Again, I clicked ahead. Just over two minutes remained on the video.

  There was Kenny in the corner of the end zone, his shoulders shaking. He reared back, threw his helmet and let out a scream to the sky. C’mon, Man in the Hoodie. Hurry.

  A few seconds later, there he was. All I could see was his back as he strolled up to Kenny. I saw him motion with his hands and talk. Now turn around. They continued talking as I glanced at the clock. There were 17 seconds remaining. Turn. Around.

  Ten seconds left. Suddenly, Hoodie Man popped up. I saw a shadow come into frame, probably one of our assistant coaches getting ready to shut down the camera and take it away. Six … five … four … three. He turned around and I smacked the mouse button loudly. Then, I felt dizzy.

  The face was a little blurry, but it looked familiar … and there was a shock of completely white hair underneath the hat.

  It was Kieran. I was sure of it.

  How was he involved? Why would he encourage Kenny to befriend us in the first place? Did he have anything to do with the threat against us?

  Wait a second. He had been around when I was first stung. He’d found a way to help me control my powers and sent me to pitch in a simulated game where I was stung a second time. Kenny had been stung too … and now I knew Kieran had made contact with him too.

  Dozens of thoughts ran through my head at the same time. I needed to get the video to my parents. I needed to get Sophi to safety. I needed to run.

  I grabbed my phone and immediately called my dad’s cell … which went straight to voicemail. “Hi, you’ve reached the cell phone of Martin Ptuiac, I’m away from my …” I hung up. It could be a coincidence, maybe he’s down in the basement with no reception. I tried my mom next. “Hi there, this is Karen Ptuaic, I can’t take your call right now, so if you leave your …” Now I was freaking out. My hand shook as I dialed our home phone number. Riiiiing. Riiiing. Riiiing. Riiiing. Riiing. Riiiing.

  They always picked up one of those numbers. Oh God. I tried texting Sophi.

  Alex: IN LIBRARY, CALL FOR HELP.

  The
phone responded back “TEXT MESSAGE BLOCKED.”

  Every inch of my upper body begin to sweat at once and my breathing got shallow and panicked. Focus. Stay calm and focus. Otherwise, you’re finished.

  I ejected the CD, put it back in its case, and slipped it into my pocket. The bell for the next class would ring in a few minutes, a perfect opportunity to blend in with other kids and escape. But to where? I could call a taxi and go home. I could take the back roads and walk. What about my protectors? They could take me somewhere.

  I peered around the corner into the library. Just a handful of students were at desks and one of the librarians was busy organizing a pile of books. There was the main entrance near the front desk and a stairway closer to me. I’ll take my chances with the front door.

  I saw the stairway door open slowly … and a tall man in jeans, a brown jacket, and a baseball hat pulled over his eyes walked in. He certainly looked familiar, but that could just be the paranoia talking. Then, he locked his shaded eyes on me.

  My memory suddenly kicked in. During halftime of Strange Country Day’s first football game last season, I caught a similarly-dressed guy standing at my locker, trying to open it. He failed since the lock would electrically shock anyone who wasn’t me and he was chased away by Coach Carson.

  Diiiiiiinnnnnnngg. The bell rang. I ran toward the front of the library and glanced back right before shouldering open the door. I was right – he started running too.

  I bolted outside and headed toward the center of campus, hoping to find Sophi too. Another glance behind me and I saw him slow down to a fast walk. He didn’t want to raise suspicion, which was smart. I didn’t even need my powers as I headed into the large clump of students leaving various buildings to go to their final class of the day. I heard a few of my classmates greet me and call my name, but none of them was Sophi.

  I stopped for a second and turned to look back. He was farther back than I expected, but he had a good view of wherever I decided to go. Another thought crossed my mind: I was supposed to have protection. And whoever was in that group was nowhere to be found.

  Find an adult. I couldn’t sit in class since he’d just wait outside until I came out. The headmaster’s office! He’d call security. But it was in the direction I had just come from. I quickly headed toward the building where I had math and jogged right through the first floor to a doorway in the back that led to a small yard surrounded by the school’s gates that spanned the exterior. There was no way for me to climb them and not enough time, but there was a path around the back of the building I could take. I hoped he was inside the building, searching for me.

  POWER. One full-speed run brought me to the main building on campus. As I hopped up the stairs, it hit me: Headmaster Hoyer wouldn’t believe a word I said unless he saw someone chasing me.

  I opened the door to the building and bumped into an adult, who stumbled back. I caught a look at his face … and it was Rose Jacket, the same guy who had nearly captured us at the mall. He blocked my entrance into the building and grinned evilly at me.

  I had one last option. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but with lightning-fast reflexes, he took out a bottle of something and sprayed it in my face. I felt my throat closing.

  “Hhhhhhh …” My voice suddenly shut down and came out as barely a whisper. Rose Jacket reached out and I ran back out the door, where I saw my other pursuer heading my way in the steady rain storm that just begun.

  I had no choice: I had to head to the athletic center and find Coach Carson.

  When I opened the doors a minute later, I ran to his office only to find he wasn’t there. Quickly, I hustled to the locker room, which I knew had multiple entrances and exits.

  Just as I was about to enter the doors, my wet shoes slipped on the concrete and I bumped into the painting of Vance Strange, which swung around a bit.

  Something caught my eye behind the swinging portrait. It was a cubicle carved into the wall that was just big enough for me to squeeze into. I stood there a couple of seconds in surprise before I came to my senses and crawled behind the painting. I made myself into as much of a ball as possible and put my hand on the canvas to keep it from moving.

  Then, I waited … and waited … and waited. Nobody came through, at least as far as I could hear. After what felt like an eternity of lying there curled with my back and legs falling asleep, I heard the final bell ring. I wondered if I was sitting in a spot carved out by Vance Strange himself back in his school days to avoid going to gym class. If so, thanks for saving my life, Vance.

  Now, I needed an escape plan to get back home, and it started with Coach Carson. I pushed the painting aside, climbed out and stretched, all while looking around for anything suspicious. I made my way slowly to Carson’s office … only to find the door locked.

  But there was a note:

  A—

  Football field.

  Thank goodness. I walked over to the doors that were normally open only on game days and found them surprisingly unlocked. As soon as I closed them behind me, I saw some figures standing on the field, where sheets of rain fell.

  Click. The doors behind me locked. Even through the downpour, I heard someone calling out to me.

  “Ptuiac! Come out! You’re surrounded!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  There he was, standing in the middle of the rain in a waterproof Strange Country Day coat, soaked to the bone.

  “You might as well join us out here. It’s over, Ptuiac.”

  We’re this close to exposing the threat and the mole helping the enemy. Mom’s words echoed in my brain. She was right, the mole was Coach Carson this whole time.

  “Where are my parents?” I said through gritted teeth.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  I didn’t budge. “What about Sophi and Dex? Where’s Kenny? Why did you turn against us?”

  He chuckled and glanced at the figures around him. They looked like ninjas dressed completely in black with their faces covered. The lights from the stadium reflected off something on one of their arms. It looked like a metal armband positioned at the biceps.

  “None of that matters right now, kid. All you need to know is your team of protectors has been neutralized. No one is coming to save you. So, you have two choices here. You can walk over here and surrender peacefully. We will be forced to restrain you with special cuffs, but we won’t touch a hair on your head.”

  “Your other option is facing six of my friends here. They won’t be as kind. We will take you by whatever force necessary.”

  Six ordinary ninja types against one kid with nanotech running through his body. That gave me a shot. I eyed the fence on the other side, then closed my eyes for just a half-second. Go back to pitching on the mound against Kenny. Find that anger, that focus, that jealousy. Use it.

  “Why don’t you just take me now?” The fury was rising in me. I can do this.

  “That’s not what I asked, Ptuiac. You were always a slow learner. What’s it gonna be?”

  The downpour got worse as I scanned the field. Just reach the fence and worry about the rest.

  “You know what I’m going to do.”

  He shook his head. “I liked you, Alex. Even when it took you a while to learn, you never gave up. Sorry to see it end like this, but I’m really going to enjoy seeing you fight against your own powers.”

  What?

  He began walking away as the six soldiers reached up and touched the armbands. I watched as, nearly simultaneously, their bodies all looked like gargantuan body builders for a second. It was the full-body flex—exactly what happened to me when my powers kicked in.

  I suddenly remembered Rose Jacket at the mall, touching his arm right before his eyes became slits and he bared his teeth at us, looking sort of like Kenny. Maybe that’s what the stinging “bees” were for. They’d taken our blood and figured out a way to use our powers.

  If I wasn’t in trouble before, I was now and i
t got even worse. Carson made a “slash” motion to someone unseen.

  The lights in the stadium went completely dark. Six pairs of eyes surrounded by green light stared back at me. Night-vision goggles?

  “Go!” Carson yelled.

  I began running toward them at full speed and they did the same. I just needed to clear the underside of the stands above me without them reaching me first. I screamed as they closed in. There was the sky above me.

  POWER.

  I jumped with all the energy in my body. Everything began to slow down as I looked down at five glowing green eyes staring in shock at me.

  SLAM.

  I collided in midair with the sixth soldier, but my momentum turned me into a mid-air tackler. I wrapped my arms around him and positioned him to land on his back.

  BOOM! We landed and slid another few yards forward. Almost instinctively, I threw an elbow at his head before he could recover. I rolled on my back to see another one of them nearing me, so I kicked my legs. POP. The blow hit the attacker in the chest and sent him flying back into another one of the ninjas. I flipped over and got up to run. I was halfway across to the other side.

  Immediately, one of the attackers landed in front of me. But for some reason, he stepped aside and let me run past him.

  Then, I felt something tug at my soaked shirt. The attacker had attached something and suddenly, all the feeling in my legs and arms disappeared. I fell to the ground, trying to will my body to get up and go. I couldn’t budge. In fact, I couldn’t move anything, except my eyes, which were fixed on one end zone as I lay on the wet turf.

  I was paralyzed.

  Coach Carson came over, as did his six soldiers. He used his foot to turn me on to my back, knelt down and looked me in the eye.

  YOU TRAITOR, I screamed in my head.

  “Pretty sweet invention, isn’t it?” He said, snapping on a flashlight to show a long, triangular clip. “Don’t have a clue about how it works, but it induces paralysis to every body part except the eyes. Even the inventor thought it was too much torture to stop victims from blinking.”