High School Heroes Chapters 29-31
Here is the next exciting installment of High School Heroes!
We are nearing the end. Christine finally faces the big bad in this section. But what will happen? And who is this big bad guy that’s threatening the school? You have to read to find out!
Next week, we will have our finale!
Enjoy!
Chapter 29
Forgive and Forget?
I paced my floor until I practically wore a hole in the carpet. It was after midnight, but I wouldn’t be sleeping that night. No matter how I read things I came to the same conclusion… within twenty-four hours, my friends would be dead.
Everything so far in my dream, though in a less surreal way, had come true. First: my mother taking me shopping and picking out my dress. After that, Ethan yelled at me. My friends turned their backs on me. And finally, my parents were having an argument. The only things left were going to the dance, seeing Tommy, and seeing my friends murdered.
I couldn’t see how it was possible. Tommy’s dead. Maybe the end of the dream was wrong.
Yet, something in my gut told me everything I had seen in my dream would somehow come true. I just needed to figure out how. So, I paced, fidgeting with anything I got my hands on while trying to figure it out.
They never found Tommy’s body.
No one could have survived that fire.
Are you sure?
They would have found something, was my response.
That was what the whole dream hinged on. If I was right, and my friends were going to die, then Tommy had to be alive. I couldn’t accept any other possibility.
“Argh!” I kicked the wall. What a mistake. All I ended up doing was hurting my foot. I limped to my bed and plopped down.
There must have been something I missed the day Tommy died. I was pretty busy trying to get Ethan and Peter out alive. Tommy could have escaped. But he wasn’t smart enough to fake his own death.
There was always the behavior of Sean and Walter to consider. They had been acting a bit strange since that day. I put it off to their having a lack of leadership, but maybe it was something else. It wasn’t like Sean to pull the fire alarm the way he had. He didn’t have that strong a will. Someone was pulling his strings.
I saw him burn. I know I saw him. He can’t still be alive.
I set my foot on the floor tested the weight to see if I could walk. When I didn’t fall over I figured it was okay, so I began pacing again. I spent the rest of the night trying to figure things out. I ended up plopping on the bed and passing out sometime around six when my mother began banging on my door. At that point, I couldn’t move and told her I felt sick. I hardly ever take sick days from school, so she left me alone.
She also must have heard me moving about all night. I wondered what she and my father decided.
I dreamed again. I saw Tommy, in a non-descript room, catching fire. Then the flames went out and he caught fire again. Sometimes I tried to stop it from happening, other times I set fire to him. Either way, over and over I watched his bulky frame flail about and burn.
When I woke up, the sun was up—it was very bright in my room. Checking the clock, I saw it was just before noon. Eight hours until the dance and I still hadn’t decided what to do. I hadn’t even decided whether the dream was real or not.
Stumbling out of bed, I headed for the bathroom. A nice hot shower would help me think.
I spent an hour letting the hot water wash over me, trying to find that one missing piece of the puzzle. It didn’t come.
I could always warn them against going to the dance. The question was whether they would believe me.
Probably not.
“Yeah,” I would say, “I had a dream where you all die. I don’t think you should go to the dance. And by the way, the killer was that guy we accidentally murdered a few months back.”
I wouldn’t believe me either.
After grabbing a bite to eat, I looked for my mom, reaching out to hear her thoughts anywhere in the house, but she was gone. Strange.
School wouldn’t let out for another hour, so I couldn’t even call anybody yet. But, I had to call them. Wait a sec. I thought about my dream. Tiffany and Sam hadn’t been there at the end. At least, they hadn’t been displayed on the backboard. Only Peter, Savanah and Ethan—the ones who had been there when Tommy died.
I should have thought of that before. I was more convinced than ever that Tommy had something to do with this. There had to be a connection.
Like last night, time dragged. Every minute felt like an hour. I couldn’t wait until 2:15 when they finally got out of school and I could call them. Even if they didn’t believe me, I had to try and warn them.
Again I paced, this time in the living room, twirling my cell in my hand. I tried to watch TV, but I couldn’t concentrate on it. I admit, I was quite close to going insane. I hadn’t talked to any of them in a couple of days. They were all still pretty mad and I honestly couldn’t blame them.
And like that, it was 2:15.
Ethan was first on my call list. If anything happened to him I would never forgive myself, even if he never forgave me for the rest of his life.
He didn’t answer.
When his voice mail picked up, I said, “Ethan, I really need you to call me. It’s an emergency.”
Next was Tiffany. I could convince her, then she could at least convince Savanah. She didn’t pick up either.
It was the same for Sam and Savanah. I tried several times for each, but to no avail. The one I didn’t want to call was Peter. I didn’t want him to think that I caved and was finally coming around to liking him—like that.
I needed to get the message out, so I decided instead to send a text. At least that would guarantee they would look at it.
Dont go to the dance. The message was simple yet informative.
Why - jealous? Savanah’s text came back.
Like Hell Im not. Sam’s reply came in a few minutes later.
Tiffany’s reply hurt the most. Stop bothering me.
Ethan didn’t bother replying.
I wanted so badly to pound my head into the wall. They just couldn’t go to the dance. There had to be something else I could do.
The Winter Dance started at eight. That left me just over five hours to get the message to them. The only other option was to actually go to the dance and try to get them away from it. But, in my dream, Tommy killed me too. I didn’t want to be anywhere near that place.
Time never worked the way I wanted it to. When I want it to move faster it slows down, I ask it to give me more time and it speeds up. Time is one of those things that is decidedly evil.
All too soon, the clock read 5:03 p.m. I was desperate. So, I dug up Peter’s number and called him. At least he would listen to me. Maybe he could get the message out to the others.
He picked up on the second ring, catching me by surprise. “Hello?”
“Hey Pete. Christine.”
“Oh, hey Chris. I was hoping you’d call.” The total jubilation in his voice made me want to crush his windpipe.
“Okay,” I sighed. “Listen—”
“Wait,” he interrupted.
I don’t know why, but I actually complied.
“Are you going to the dance?”
“NO! That’s what I need to talk to you about. I need you to tell everyone not to go.”
Silence came from the other end of the line.
“Peter?”
“I can’t. I don’t know their numbers or anything.”
“I can give them to you.”
“Chris, it won’t work. I just can’t.”
I nearly threw my cell across the room. I finally got through to one person and he was being uncooperative. If I could have, I would have reached through the phone line and strangled him.
“Peter,” I said, trying desperately to keep myself from losing it, “I need you to try.”
“Chris, don’t ask me to do this. Please. I can’t call them.”
“Why not?”
“It makes me uncomfortable.”
Honestly, I had no response to that. Peter never really hung out with anyone. He showed off on his skateboard. But, I couldn’t think of anyone who would call him a friend. He hung around with us all the time, but even then he was always like an outcast. He never spoke, and hardly ever contributed anything.
I couldn’t make him do it. It wouldn’t be right.
Needing another plan, I looked around the room. I don’t know why, since there was nothing really interesting in my living room that could give me ideas. At least that was what I thought until my eyes fixed on the new dress, hanging in the corner.
You’re not going.
I don’t have a choice.
Of course, logic couldn’t win out. I should have tried to keep myself safe. I should have stayed away from the death trap that was going to be the dance. I hated myself.
“You have a suit?” I asked Peter.
Chapter 30
The Dance
I hate dressing up. Unfortunately, my passport into the dance was a dress, so I had no choice. I did my hair up as best I could, which meant I put it up in two short ponytails on either side of my head. I dabbed on lipstick and eye shadow: black—the only color I owned. I had to admit the dress fit nicely. The color was way too bright. Otherwise, it was perfect.
Neither of my parents had come home yet. It was getting late and worried thoughts crossed my mind more than once. It wasn’t like them to be out so long without a word.
Before I knew it, there was a knock on my door. Feeling the waves of emotion pouring from the entrance of the house, I knew Peter eagerly waited on the other side.
Peter stood on the stoop, shifting from one leg to the other like he had to pee. He held a bouquet of flowers. I had to admit, he cleaned up nice, except he still wore that old wool hat.
Awkwardly, he thrust the flowers into my hands. “These are for you.”
I’d explained to him earlier, but the message didn’t get through. “Pete, I told you this…”
“…isn’t a date,” he finished. “I know. But a pretty girl deserves pretty flowers.”
I felt my cheeks redden. He was just too cute and innocent.
He looked over his shoulder at the mini-van parked in my driveway. “Besides, my mom made me get them.”
“Well, thanks. Come in for a sec so I can put these in water.”
He followed me into the kitchen where I grabbed one of my mother’s vases and arranged the flowers.
“You have a nice house,” Peter commented as he looked at some pictures my mother had of me hanging on the refrigerator.
“I bought it myself,” I joked.
He smiled. He looked nice when he smiled, but he did it so infrequently.
With the flowers settled, I slipped on my shoes. They were just some nice flats, since I hate heels. How a girl can walk around for hours on her toes is beyond my comprehension. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked.
He came near me, so close I backed away a couple inches. He looked nervous and awkward, almost like he was getting ready to kiss me. I was relieved when he didn’t. “You saved my life. I’d do anything for you, Christine.”
My cheeks reddened further, this time out of guilt. Eventually, I would have to explain what I’d done to him. It would wreck the tiny friendship we had, but he needed to know.
Another day. Today, we have to save our friends.
His mom drove us to the school. I could tell she was thrilled her son had a girlfriend. Actually, I think she was just excited a girl even talked to him.
It was almost eight o’clock. The place looked packed. With the lights low and wintry decorations all over, I would have sworn we were in some fancy hall instead of the Thomas Jefferson High gymnasium.
Streamers hung everywhere in blues and silvers. A disco-ball hung from center of the ceiling, casting white lights all over the room that looked like snowflakes spinning about. Whoever decorated went to a lot of trouble to make sure everything was perfect.
My classmates were happily dancing to the music blaring out of the DJ’s speakers. Teachers stood in the corners, watching like wardens in a prison. A bunch of kids milled about the drink table. Like in my dream, Mr. Philmore stared at them like a hawk. I could tell he didn’t want to be there. He thought the whole idea of this dance was simply a bad idea. Not for the same reasons as me, but I had to agree. School wouldn’t be reopening on Monday if the entire student population was massacred.
How perfect would this night have been if I have been able to come with Ethan? The answer was obvious. It would have been the greatest night of my life.
“This is cool,” Peter mentioned.
I’d forgotten he was beside me. “Yeah,” I agreed. I thought of possibly dancing a single dance with Peter, just to have a bit of fun before everything came crashing down. Then I thought better of it. “We have a job to do.”
“What d’ya need me to do?”
It was nice to know that even if things went to hell I would have backup. It sickened me, however, that I could only really count on one of my friends… and that it was my fault.
How could he help? I wasn’t sure.
I could find our friends much quicker than him. I hadn’t told him Tommy might still be alive and that he was going to murder everyone. I wasn’t sure how he would take that. I wasn’t even sure if Peter realized he was the one who’d “killed” Tommy.
“Why don’t you look around for Sean and Walter?” It was more of an order than a question. It was the only thing I could think for him to do. If Tommy was involved, you could bet the pair of mental defectives would be lurking about somewhere.
“Ummm… Yeah, okay.” He rubbed the back of his head like he wanted to say more.
“Look, I need your help. You don’t have to do anything but find them and tell me where they are.” The boy needed a boost of confidence, so I added, “I know you can do it.”
He took a deep breath and started walking off. Almost immediately he turned around and came back. Before I could stop him, he scooped me up and gave me a hug. “Just in case. Be careful.”
As he walked off again, I called, “You too!” It sounded stupid, but it was all I could think to say.
Okay. I needed to locate everyone and get them out of there. The first mind I was able to lock onto was Sam’s. In the center of the dance floor, I got quick flashes of him dancing with Samantha.
I rolled my eyes.
Looking at the throngs of kids between me and Sam I bit my lower lip. It was going to be difficult, but I had to do it. I took several deep breaths to calm myself and waded into the crowd. Sam must have seen me coming because he grabbed Samantha and ushered her in the other direction, off the dance floor.
“Sam,” I called. “Please, wait!”
He didn’t stop. I could tell by his thoughts that he didn’t want me anywhere near his girlfriend. I wove through the crowd and eventually caught them.
“Sam!”
He spun around, fury in his eyes. “Stay away from me!” He held Samantha behind him, as if protecting her.
The cheerleader wasn’t having any of that, though. It looked like she was going to tear his arm off as she pushed past him. “Let me go, Sam!”
“Would you just listen to me?” I pleaded.
Neither would. Sam let Samantha go and she came at me, ready to scratch at my face with nails sharp enough to slash the tires of a big rig. She stopped inches from my face. “I heard what you tried to do, freakshow!” Her voice was a snarl.
She didn’t scare me, not physically anyway. The only thing I was scared of was her knowing about my powers. Had Sam been low enough to tell her the whole story? If she knew, she could use it to blackmail me.
“I don’t have time for this,” I said plainly. I tried looking around her at Sam, but she blocked my path with that fat head of hers. Then it was my turn to snarl, “Get out of my way.” It was low, but it told her I meant business.
“He doesn’t want to talk to you, freak! You ever come near him again and I’ll get the football team to beat you until you’re dead. Understand?”
She was lucky I didn’t kill her right there. Instead, I looked around her at my friend again. Then, two hands hit me hard in the chest, pushing me backwards. “I said stay… away… from him!”
It took all my self control not to hit her back. Getting in a fight in the middle of the dance wasn’t going to accomplish anything. “Don’t touch me.” I thought my voice was rather calm—considering.
By then everyone had stopped dancing and formed a circle around us. Nothing got them more excited than the prospect of a good old-fashioned cat fight.
“Why, what are you going to do?” She pushed me again. “He’s not your friend anymore. Who could be a friend to a manipulative bitch like you?” She laughed, as if she had made a really great joke.
“Please,” I said, the anger beginning to rise in me. “I need to talk to Sam.”
“I don’t care! Get out of here!”
She raised her hands, ready to push me—this time, hard enough to knock me down.
Screw this. I wasn’t taking any more of her crap.
Not laying a hand on her, I pushed with my mind, harder than I intended. Samantha flew ten feet backwards before skidding on the floor into a dancing couple.
Sam looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to hit me himself. “Haven’t you done enough?” He turned and ran off to help Samantha.
What did he expect me to do? Stand there and let her hit me?
What an utter disaster. The only pleasure I took from the situation was knowing I made the evil cheerleader look foolish once again.
I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Who knew how much time I even had left? I had to figure another way to get Sam out of here. For the moment, I focused on someone else.
Savanah. She stood against the far wall with a boy. She was waiting for a song that was more to her liking. She would cut loose and have fun, but only on her terms.
I weaved back through the crowd, who had gone back to their previous activities when they realized there would be no fight. Savanah pretended she didn’t see me coming. It was like if she ignored me, I wouldn’t exist.
“Hugh,” she said to the boy she was with, a senior by the looks of him, with blonde hair and a perfect complexion. He stood about a foot taller than her. She had to stand on her toes to speak in his ear. “Can you get me something to drink?”
She turned on me, once he was gone. “You owe me fifty bucks for a new shirt.”
“It was water, Savanah. Seriously, relax.”
“Just water? The shirt was dry clean only!”
I brushed my fingers on the bridge of my nose. I was sure that if I didn’t, my head would explode. “The check’s in the mail. But that’s not important.”
“I don’t want to talk to you, Loser.” She turned away, facing the dancefloor.
A trend was forming and I was pretty sure it would be the same as I tracked down the rest of my friends. I sighed. All I wanted to do was help and no one would listen.
“I hate you.” The words escaped my lips before I realized what I said.
At least the words got her attention. “You hate me?”
Seeing that it worked, I decided to go with it. “Yeah. You of all people have no right to be angry. You told me it was okay to use my powers as long as no one got hurt.”
“Use. Not abuse.”
I laughed an evil laugh. “This coming from the girl who threw her ex-boyfriend’s car up in a tree with him still inside it.” The statement was meant to hurt, but was also meant to make her see reason.
Her head tilted and her eyes began to tear as she relived the memory. “He deserved it.”
“I agree. He was the lowest filth imaginable. But don’t lecture me about abusing my powers!”
She was looking for her date to come back so she would have an excuse to get away from me. “Listen. You need to leave.”
“I already told you, I’m not going anywhere. Bad things are going to happen here tonight. If you’re here, you’re going to get hurt.”
“Why do you care?”
Hugh arrived with her drink. “Can we go dance now?”
She looked at me, and then back to him and nodded. As she walked off, she turned to me again. “After all, you hate me. Remember?”
I can’t win.
Beyond despair, I leaned against the wall for fear of falling over. I didn’t know what to do. Everyone really hated me. Nothing I could do or say could change that.
The only thing I really could do, I couldn’t. It had gotten me in this mess in the first place. I promised I wouldn’t play around with people’s minds again, no matter what.
I only had two others I could try and convince, Tiffany and Ethan. Since the latter hadn’t even bothered to return my call or text, I wasn’t counting on him being too receptive. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try. If I had to knock Ethan out and drag him from the gym to keep him safe, I would.
Thinking about him made me locate him immediately. I felt his emotions.
He’s happy? My hands trembled at the thought. How could he be happy when I’m so miserable?
Wait. It wasn’t exactly happy. Content would have been a better word to describe it. It was like he was trying his best to have a good time. He was succeeding, but only just. I zeroed in on him at the drink table. He was grabbing a pair of cups.
Already feeling defeated, I approached. He was filling the cups with the deep red liquid. Before I could get there, he turned and walked back into the crowd. I couldn’t take another bout on the overrun dance floor. I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool a second time. Instead of plunging into the crowd after Ethan, I decided to just lean up against the wall and let him come to me.
I reached out, found his mind among the hundreds of others in the room. It was easy since his was so familiar. I need to talk to you, I sent to him.
His heart skipped a quick beat. He was surprised by the intrusion into his mind. What are you doing here? It wasn’t so much a question as an accusation.
Please, it’s important. I sent it out with a wave of desperate emotions.
I’m not going to talk to you, Christine. You haven’t changed. You’re still invading my mind without permission.
Because… I explained I couldn’t go back into the crowd again, but he wouldn’t listen.
You’re never going to change.
I wished he would listen. My hands clenched so tightly I thought my fingernails would draw blood from my palms. I forced myself to relax. Blowing up now wouldn’t help the situation. If he wouldn’t listen to me, I would just have to show him what I saw.
It wasn’t hard seeing the images of the dream in my own head. I just didn’t know if I could project them into his head in a manner he’d understand. I also needed to project the sense of impending doom. He needed to see it and he needed to believe me.
Ethan’s voice suddenly filled my head, destroying my concentration. “I’m sorry, I got interrupted.”
For a moment, I was taken aback. It didn’t take me long to realize he wasn’t talking to me. The only reason I could still hear his voice was because I was still connected to his mind, I couldn’t see or hear who he spoke with.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Here’s your drink.”
Wondering who it was, I formed a deeper connection with him, to see what he saw. He probably had just gone with one of his old football buddies, or had met up with them and was hanging out.
I focused all my attention on him, but there were so many distractions. I had to drown out the music and the flashing lights and the incessant murmuring of the kids around me.
The only thing I worried about was Ethan noticing my intrusion. I wasn’t sure how it worked, but with such a strong force pushing into his mind, I was sure he would feel something.
The first images I received were a little out of focus. I pushed a bit harder, and finally got a crystal clear image.
Ethan seemed to be wading through the crowd of dancing students. He was trying to find a clear spot on the floor so they could dance. The mystery person must have been behind him. Several times he looked back over his shoulder to make sure his companion was there. I never got a clear image of who it was. It was really frustrating.
If it turned out he was out with a girl, I didn’t know what I would do. Just thinking about it, I already felt the tightening in my chest. I wasn’t sure if I could handle it, but I also knew I had to know.
At last, he found a spot open enough. I held my breath as he turned around. Finally, she came into view: Rebecca Monswa: a junior, a cheerleader, and one of Samantha’s henchmen. The one thing I did know was I wanted to kill her.
I lost control of my legs and I found myself lying on the floor. My eyes filled with tears. It had only been a couple of days. Betrayed again. This time by my own boyfriend.
How could he do this to me?
Did he have her lined up before he broke up with me?
Is this why he won’t talk to me?
Unfortunately, none of my questions had answers. I had trouble breathing. I needed to get out of there. It wasn’t a choice, if I lost control of my powers again like back at the convention, I would hurt a lot of people.
Blinded by the salty water, I forced myself up and ran from the room. My scream echoed from the dance floor in a much deeper voice. I realized I had never closed my connection with Ethan and he too let out a loud bellow. How much had he heard from my head?
I pushed open the door and rushed into the empty hallway. I leaned against the wall and collapsed again on the floor, my mission all but forgotten. I was torn between despair and homicidal rage. As I looked at one of the glass display cases in the gym lobby, it shattered. The sound of breaking glass was barely audible above the loud music.
Imagine what I could have done to someone or something in that crowded room. That made me think for a moment, and what came to my mind made me shudder. What if I was the danger I had been trying to protect them against?
No. That hadn’t been the dream. In the dream I was attacked too. I couldn’t attack myself. Could I?
Then I remembered what Quinn said about a Blackout. If I let it consume me, I wouldn’t have control of my powers, and they would keep going until it totally drained me.
I couldn’t be the one who killed everyone. I wouldn’t let myself believe it. Even if it was me in the dream that killed everyone, all I had to do was not go back in the gym. If I didn’t go in, I couldn’t hurt anyone.
I pulled my cell out of the tiny bag that matched my dress (another of my mom’s brilliant ideas). I went through my phonebook to call her for a ride. The further away I was from everyone at that moment, the better. The phone rang. No answer.
“Dammit!” My voice echoed through the vacant halls, even over the blaring music from the gym.
I’d have to walk home. Even though the shoes weren’t heels, they were still uncomfortable. I walked to the door, broken glass crackling under my feet. It was very dark and cold outside. I would probably freeze to death before getting halfway home.
This has got to be the worst night ever!
Footsteps approached. There was an urgency to them. At first, I was sure I was going to be in trouble for breaking the case, but I soon realized it was Peter.
“Chris.” He stopped before the sea of glass.
I wiped the tears from my eyes, as if that would cover the fact that I’d been crying.
“I found Sean and Walter.”
They are up to something. The mission was still on. I had to see what they were up to and see if I could stop them before something horrible happened.
“They’re in the science hallway,” Peter informed as I carefully made my way over. “They’re prying a grate off one of the vents.”
That didn’t sound good. I pulled my shoes off and threw them to the side. “Let’s get them.”
Chapter 31
Resurrection
Sneaking through the hallways was easy. Keeping silent when we arrived at our destination was difficult. Even the smallest noise reverberated off every wall.
We heard the clanging of the metal grate long before reaching the science hallway. They were lucky everyone was in the gym, listening to loud music. Otherwise, they would have been caught in a second. Breaking it open while everyone was distracted must have been their plan all along.
I felt a wave of relief. I wasn’t the one who killed everyone after all. Whatever was going to happen definitely involved those two idiots.
Sean and Walter were too involved with their task to notice us. Once, Walter looked up and we ducked back behind the corner for cover.
“What you wanna do?” Peter whispered.
Why did they always expect me to know what to do? “I don’t know. Why don’t you just fry them?”
“You sure?”
I wasn’t sure. The last time Peter used his powers against someone, he almost killed them. But the same could be said of me too, and we didn’t have the luxury of time. Whatever they were doing, they were doing it now. We needed to stop them.
I nodded. “Do it.”
He smiled, then brought his hands back like he was reaching for a pair of guns on his hips. When he brought them back up again they were glowing with a bright blue light that matched my dress.
He shot his hands forward. Short jolts of electricity arcs down the hall, hitting both boys square in the chest. They fell back. The metal grate clattered on the floor. I could tell immediately they were both unconscious.
“That was easy.”
Peter and I approached the boys’ prone bodies. Both boys looked like they’d just tried sticking a fork into a light socket. Their shirts were smoking. For the first time I wondered just how hot Peter’s lightning was. It wasn’t something I wanted to test, though.
“Don’t say that.” Every time anyone said that in a movie, something bad happened.
The vent wasn’t very big. The opening couldn’t have been more than eighteen inches tall and only slightly wider. I’d thought they might have been planning to climb inside. But not even they were stupid enough to think they could fit in the opening.
What exactly were they doing? If they weren’t trying to go in there, why would they take the grate off? I didn’t see anything they might be planning to throw in. Anything they could fit in there had no chance of making it to the gym. The whole situation made no sense.
“Did we stop them?” Peter asked. I liked how he used “we” even though I hadn’t done a thing.
I came back with a sarcastic remark. “No, they’re climbing inside right now.” After a second, I realized he was referring to the master plan that triggered my dream. To that I only had one answer. “I don’t know.”
Walter stirred. As his head cleared, I wanted to siphon the plan from his tiny brain. At that point, I was willing to do anything to save my friends. Even if they hated me. Even if they never knew what I did. If I had to torture these boys to find out what they were plotting, I would.
“Sit him up against the wall,” I told Peter.
Walter was still a bit groggy and looked as if he might fall back over, but Peter made sure he remained upright. I reached out a tendril, it flew through the air and attached to Walter’s mind. Many of his thoughts were still fuzzy. I needed him to wake up. So, I slapped him.
“Ow!” He rubbed the side of his face.
“Get over it.” I knelt. The back of my dress tightened as I bent a bit too far. I didn’t care. I was going to get right up into his face and intimidate him before using my powers. “What were you doing?” There wasn’t much force behind the question, just enough for him to know that if he didn’t give the right answer, I would hurt him.
He didn’t respond right away. But I got a couple of jumbled words from his groggy head. Told us to… open it… otherwise.
“We weren’t doing anything.”
“Really?” I punched him. Not too hard, just enough to rattle him. “Please don’t make me ask again. The next thing I do won’t be as pleasant.”
Get her away from me! his mind practically screamed.
“He promised no one would hurt me,” he said weakly. I thought he was going to cry. “Please, I don’t know anything.” Pathetic. I would have felt sorry for him, but didn’t have time. If I backed down, I wouldn’t get the information.
“Shock him,” I instructed Peter. “Lightly.”
Peter touched his bare arm. As his hand lit up, Walter began to convulse. He barely even let out a scream, probably because his jaw muscles were seizing. Was that how a person in the electric chair looked like as they died? I hoped never to find out.
I waved Peter off. He pulled his hand away, leaving a dark red mark on Walter’s arm. I leaned in to the boy again. “That is child’s play compared to what I can do. Now, what were you up to?” As I said the words, I wondered how far I was willing to go. Could I kill him?
“Tell me!” I shouted.
Chemicals. We needed to get the chemicals and put them in the vent!
Even as his mind told me, his mouth formed a single word. “Tommy.”
The heavy scent of cleaning fluid washed over me. The heavy fumes of ammonia threatened to make me sick. That was when Walter looked up and smiled. The coil of tension in him relaxed as relief filled his body.
I shuddered and backed away from the boy.
“Christine!” Peter shouted. “Behind you!”
I spun around. Before me was a brown mass that looked like mud. It had virtually no form and moved with undulating waves across its… I guess it was a body.
The source of the cleaner smell emanated from that thing. The scent of ammonia was almost enough to knock me out. If I didn’t get away quickly, the fumes would render me unconscious.
This thing is what I’ve been smelling for months. I thought of every time I’d gotten that strange whiff of cleaning liquids. Had it been this monster all along?
Peter’s hands lit up. I ducked out of the way and landed on top of Walter, who was still too weak to push me off. I waited to hear the lightning shoot at the mud monster.
Unfortunately, the blast never came. Instead, I heard what sounded like water splashing against the wall, and Peter’s scream. I looked up just in time to see a long tendril from the monster hit Peter in the head, cutting his scream off. The tendril surrounded Peter’s head encasing it in a thick shell that instantly hardened. As the tentacle pulled back into the creature I realized Peter couldn’t breathe.
This thing must have been what was in my dream. I rushed past the monster—the big brown mass of crap that was going to kill everyone—to my friend. Unless I stopped it.
I needed to get the shell off Peter’s head. He was flailing wildly though, scratching and clawing at the thing, I couldn’t get anywhere near it.
Help! I sent a mental yell out to anyone who might hear it. Help us!
The evil thing was watching me. Why didn’t it just attack me like it had Peter? All it did was sit there, undulating.
Okay, so if it wasn’t going to attack me, I would get Peter loose, before he suffocated.
Peter, stop struggling, I thought at him. I can’t get near you.
Slowly, his arms stopped flailing and he calmed down. Feeling his fright, I rushed to grab at the outside of the thing. Up close, it looked almost like flesh, but felt like stone. I clawed, trying to find some kind of a crack I could pry open. There wasn’t anything. Whatever the stuff was, it had sealed tight to Peter’s head.
Desperately, I lifted his head and slammed it down on the ground, thinking I could possibly make a crack form on it. Nothing happened.
“It won’t come off,” a deep, raspy voice said behind me.
My jaw clenched. I would not let this thing kill my friend. “Let him go!” I shouted.
“What the matter?” it said. “My girl doesn’t like me anymore?”
“What are you talking about? Let him go, or you’ll be sorry.”
“C’mon, Christine. Don’t pretend you don’t recognize me.”
“Last chance,” I warned, not even thinking about how the creature knew my name. I had already gotten a good mental grip on the vent grate. All it would take was a little flick of my mental wrist and it would fly right into the monster’s… chest.
“It’s been a while,” it continued. “I suppose we’ve both changed. Me a little more than you. But who knew you had such power in you.”
I was through listening. I let the grate fly. It spun through the air like a giant square frisbee. It hit the monster, bisecting the thing and sending the top half crashing to the floor.
The two halves didn’t move for a moment. Even the undulating stopped. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to put that monster down. Whatever it was, it must have had some control over the weak minded, since it got Walter and Sean to aid it so willingly.
I didn’t have time to worry about that. Peter’s head was still encased inside the shell. I couldn’t remove it physically, so I tried mentally. Concentrating hard, I searched for some way to bust it open and free Peter’s head. He’d been in there for over a minute now. No way he could last much longer.
I found something, a tiny crack. I pushed into it and forced it apart with my mind. Suddenly there was a loud crack and the shell split off his head.
He wasn’t breathing. I was too late, he was dead. I needed to do CPR. God, how I dreaded that. If he woke up, he would take it the wrong way.
I leaned down and pinched his nose. I opened my mouth and lowered my head to his lips.
BOOM!
Something knocked me aside. My head hit the wall with such force I momentarily lost sight. When I regained my senses, the monster loomed over me… once again whole. My dress was covered in that same brown goo that made up the creature.
Damn, my mother’s gonna be pissed.
The monster oozed toward me. I leaped to my feet. Big mistake. My head rang. The hall spun. I staggered back in the direction of the gym, but only made it a few awkward steps before my way was blocked.
An arm stuck out in front of me, attaching itself to the wall. It hit the wall with such force, several cracks formed in the brick. The creature let out a low, guttural chuckle. I stumbled back in the other direction, but again, my way was blocked.
“What do you want with me?” I asked.
“Christine, that’s no way to talk to an old friend.” It was making fun of me.
I wasn’t in the mood to play along. “Who the hell are you?” I yelled as my head began to clear.
“And you always called me dumb.”
A third tentacle snaked out from the top of its head. It reached toward the ceiling, then just slithered there as the thing spoke. “My name used to be Thomas Eugene Fulton, but you can call me Sludge.”
If I weren’t about to crap myself from both astonishment and fear, I would have made a sarcastic comment about his choice of name. Sludge would have been the exact word I would have used to describe Tommy before he died.
But he’s not dead, I reminded myself. He’s right here in front of you.
No way. After all I’d seen, and after my dream, and everything, I still couldn’t believe this thing was our very own school bully. “You can’t be Tommy. I watched him die.”
“What you saw was my transformation. The chemicals in all of the cleaners, superheated by Perkin’s electric jolt, melded with my DNA to transform me into this.”
“Okay, now I know you’re not Tommy. Tommy couldn’t say words like superheated and melded. He was as dumb as a brick.”
All three tentacles writhed. I braced myself for it to lash out at me.
“Stop calling me stupid, Christine. I hate that.”
“You’re not him!” I pointed at Walter and Sean, lying motionless on the floor. “You might have those two idiots fooled, but you can’t fool me!”
Its temper tantrum dissipated—the tentacles stopped moving. “Fine. Read my mind. I know you can.”
I did as instructed, only to prove he lied. I reached out and touched its mind. I could read it like I could any person’s, but it felt different. It didn’t feel real—it didn’t feel human.
I saw a man who looked remarkably like Tommy, except older, passed out on a couch with a half empty beer bottle dangling in his hand. A young boy came into the picture. He removed the bottle and covered the man up.
Next, I saw the inside of a jail cell, where a younger Tommy paced back and forth. He looked frightened, but tried to put on a tough face to show the three older men in the cell that they didn’t want to mess with him.
The image changed again, to Tommy walking the halls with his two buddies, antagonizing other students. He spotted Principle Philmore and ran in the other direction.
I saw the fire they set in the bathroom. I saw their flight through the hallway to get away. I saw him separate from his friends and then watched in horror as a distraught Peter cornered him and tortured him with his lightning. I watched as Ethan and I stopped him, and then how Peter dealt the final blow, setting the cleaning fluids on fire that would kill Tommy.
Everything went black, and then suddenly, out of the rubble several tendrils of the monster he had become slithered out of it. It found the vent and made its way inside.
I pulled out of its mind then. It was Tommy. I couldn’t believe it. There was no way he could have survived that fire. Yet, there he was, alive. It was totally unbelievable.
My dream made sense now. Tommy really was planning to kill everyone. He blamed Ethan, Savanah, Peter and I for creating him.
“Tommy.” I feigned regret. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. If we had known—”
“What? What would you have done?”
“We would have tried to save you.” It wasn’t a lie. I’d wanted to get him out. But the fire and the smoke had been too much.
“I didn’t need saving. I still don’t. I am a thousand times better than before. I’m smarter, and quicker and stronger.” As if to prove that last point, he pushed out with his two arms into the walls, creating cracks in the brick that ran all the way up to the ceiling.
I pushed myself harder into the doorframe in case any pieces decided to rain down on me. “What do you want, Tommy?”
“My name is Sludge,” he corrected. “What I want is simple. I want everyone who ever made fun of me, everyone who ever did me wrong… to die.”
I took a deep breath. I knew that was coming. I was the only one capable of stopping him. If I couldn’t, then I would have to figure out a way to delay him. The dance ended in about two hours, so I would have to distract him for that long.
“I can’t let you do that.” I planted my feet and brought my hands up into fists. I grew a mental shield around each of them. With nothing else to throw at him, I needed to hit him—hard.
The tentacle reaching toward the ceiling shot toward me. It hit me square in the chest and sent me flying through the door, knocking it off its hinges.
I landed inside the science room with a thud.
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