"OK, so this morning on my way to school, there was this strange guy in the woods."
"What? Where?" Max's expression hardened again.
"In the eye—by the stream there, you know? Anyway, he was trying to give me some kind of drug."
"And you're just now telling me this?"
"I didn't have a chance, anyway, I just—"
Max pushed his hands over his face. "No wonder you were so bitchy about me scaring you..."
"What? I wasn't bitchy." He dropped his hands and gave me a deadpan look. I shook my head. “OK, that was legitimate self-defense mode, and it was your own fault."
"Whatever," he grinned again. "So what happened to weird you out in the gym then?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. That guy is in there. The one from the woods. He's working the Wu Fong Pharmaceuticals kiosk, and he recognized me!"
Max sobered and sat up a little straighter. "The drug pusher was pushing drugs on you in the woods? That's what you're telling me? And he recognized you?"
"Yes!"
"Did he say anything? How do you know he recognized you?"
"Because he gave me the same grin he did in the woods when I shoved him off with my walking stick."
"You shoved him with your walking stick?" Max gaped at me. "Halsey, shit! Anything else life threatening you forget to mention today?"
"I think that covers it..."
Max got to his feet and peered back through the gym doors. "We need to tell someone. That guy can't be here," he said, then took a few steps toward the crowd.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"You said the kiosk was called Wu-what?"
"Wu Fong Pharmaceuticals. It's red with the dragon right under the name."
“OK, but I don't see him.”
I got up and looked into the gym, but of course I couldn't see through the crowd, and I wasn't tall enough to see over it. I grabbed the bench and dragged it over, then climbed on top of it. To my complete amazement, the man from the woods was gone.
But…Brian Dunwin and the brain-donors were not. They spotted me almost immediately, and started pushing through the crowd.
"We gotta go!" I jumped down from the bench and grabbed Max's wrist, pulling him along toward the double doors that led back to Mr. Warren's room.
We had enough of a head start to make it back before Brian and his cronies ever so much as made it out of the gym, but we still stumbled over the threshold of Mr. Warren's class like they were right on our heels. We closed the door behind us and leaned against it.
"Halsey? Max, what's going on?" Mr. Warren asked, pushing his glasses to the top of his head.
"Brian Dunwin," Max answered before I had the chance. "And there's a drug dealer in the gym. Or, I mean, there was."
"What?" Mr. Warren's dark brows crashed together.
"It's true," I said. "A guy stopped me this morning trying to give me a vial of something, and he was just at the Wu Fong Pharmaceuticals kiosk."
"Wu Fong…” Mr. Warren picked up a clipboard and flipped through a few pages. “Ah, here they are. Yes, they’ve sent Emily Runyon as their representative for the internship fair."
I felt the blood drain from my face, and a chill ran down my spine.
"No, there was a man,” I said. "Ask Lauren Stover. She was talking to him! She asked if they just sold drugs, only legally."
Mr. Warren wrote something down on the clipboard, then tapped his temple. A 3-D hologram of the office secretary appeared in his field of vision.
"Hi, Mae. Could you please page Lauren Stover to my room, and could you send one of the Sweeper droid units too?"
"Is everything all right?" Mrs. Poole, the secretary asked.
"I think so; just a precaution. I'll keep you posted," Mr. Warren smiled.
A few seconds later, Lauren's name came over the announcement speaker with instructions to report to Mr. Warren's room. A few seconds after that, a Sweeper droid let itself in the room, its cylindrical, brushed chrome body, for lack of something better to call it, hovering in the air.
"That was fast," Max said to himself.
"How may I help you?" The droid voice was a warm, male voice that actually helped dissipate some of the tension building in my chest.
"Go ahead and tell it the name of the business you saw, and about what you saw this morning." Mr. Warren nodded to me.
I told the Sweeper droid about the man at the Wu Fong kiosk being the same one from the woods this morning, having just enough time to finish when Lauren Stover came into the room.
"I heard my name?" she said in her normal, pinched tone. She gave me a weak side glare. "I didn't do anything to her," she said to Mr Warren, who seemed momentarily confused.
"No, Lauren, you're not in any trouble." Mr. Warren shook his head. "I just needed to know, did you happen to talk with someone from Wu Fong Pharmaceuticals in the gym just now?"
“A man,” I emphasized.
"Wu-what?" Lauren laughed nervously.
"The guy in the black suit with the slicked hair." I shoved the words at her. "I saw you talking to him under the big dragon banner. You told him, so it's just like selling drugs." It took everything in me not to reenact her prissy, demeaning tone.
"Are you stupid?" Lauren looked at me like, in fact, I was, as she pushed her stringy blonde hair behind her ear. "Why would I talk to anyone about drugs here on school grounds?" She huffed a laugh in my direction and rolled her eyes. "I don't know what she's talking about, Mr. Warren."
"Liar!" I took a few steps toward her with every intent to throttle her, but Max stopped me.
"Whatever," Lauren rolled her eyes again and returned her attention to Mr. Warren. "Can I go back now? I still have three more internships to apply for."
Shit! I thought again, remembering I hadn't even done one yet.
"Yes, that's fine, Lauren. Thank you for your time."
She left, glaring at me until the last few seconds before she walked out the door, and I was a hundred percent positive she’d have half the gym after me by lunch. Great. Like I didn't have enough problems today.
"Mr. Warren, I swear there was a man here for Wu Fong, and that he was the same guy from the woods," I insisted.
"She went running out of the gym pretty spooked," Max spoke up.
"All right, I'll head down there myself and have a look around," Warren said. "Have you both finished your internship applications?" Max and I exchanged glances. "That's what I thought," Mr. Warren smiled. "Get back at it then before you run out of time. Lunch is in an hour, and the businesses will be gone this afternoon."
We followed Mr. Warren out of his room and back to the gym, passing Brian Dunwin and his paint sniffer parade in the hallway. His eyes locked on mine, and I forgot all about Lauren.
Chapter Four
I couldn’t believe I’d messed up the most important day of my high school career by not preparing for any internship submissions. Fortunately, I was able to transmit about half-a-dozen copies of the academic résumé Ms. Pike had made us do in business class a few weeks ago. They were general rather than tailored for the actual places I was interested in, but they were better than not having anything to give the prospective employers at all.
I’d tucked in my T-shirt and pushed my hands through the long bangs of my otherwise short hair, and managed to have six halfway respectable meet-and-greets with the City Engineer’s Department, the Department of Natural Resources, Raphael’s Tea Shop—which wasn’t on my radar, but it sounded kind of exotic—and a few landscaping companies. If I couldn’t get into The Citadel to study psychology, at least maybe I’d still get to see something new everyday.
“You’re decided on taking over Mr. Burke’s store someday?” I asked Max as we made our way to the cafeteria, our mission accomplished for the day.
“His son already said I’d be the ideal manager,” Max answered as he passed me a tray. “He’s happy just doing the accounting and all that from home.”
“I guess it sounds id
eal then. People will always need groceries.” I smiled at Max, but inside I was struggling to be happy for him. He was easily one of the smartest, most well-rounded kids in the school, and he didn’t even take a chance on The Citadel. It made me feel like applying maybe was a little delusional of me.
I barely had a chance to wallow in the existential dread I was creating before someone shoved me hard into the pillar to my right, which smashed the tray of pasta I was carrying all over me and two other people sitting at a nearby table. I lost my footing with the impact and crashed to the ground, along with my tray. Lauren Stover walked by with Brian Dunwin and about four of his Cro-Magnon brethren, all of them laughing.
“Are you OK?” Max helped me to my feet, but something in me snapped, and he suddenly seemed a layer away. Lauren’s laughter and Brian’s disgusting snorts were crystal clear, though, and I bolted straight into Lauren’s back, shoving her hard to the ground. When she turned back, her face and neck were covered in spaghetti.
“What the shit, Balls!?” Brian gaped, and I saw red again, kicking him as hard as I could right in the beans. He dropped to the ground, and I vaguely heard his cronies laughing about his impending sterility.
“My name is Halsey. Those are balls—see if you can remember the difference next time!” I said, having only enough time to take in a breath before Lauren jumped on top of me, making both of us fall to the ground. “Ow!” I yelled when burning flooded my forearm. Was she biting me!? Whatever was left of the pent-up rage that made me shove her in the first place concentrated in one final, glorious burst as I closed my fist and punched her in the ear. When she stopped biting, I closed it again and this time, hit her directly in the nose.
Blood splattered all over her shirt and onto the floor, and the sight of it shocked me enough to break the trance I’d fallen into.
“Halsey! Holy shit!” Max yelled, close to my ear now as his arms wrapped around me from behind and pulled me off of Lauren. “Calm down. Calm down—it’s OK,” he repeated.
Sweeper droids hovered over to the scene, their cylindrical, brushed metal casings reflecting each other’s blue and red flashing lights. Everything was in slow motion as one of the floating units moved quickly to me and flashed a scanning beam over my face, temporarily blinding me.
“Halsey Rhodes, Maxwell Barrett, proceed to the Ice Box or you will be escorted by force,” the robotic droid voice commanded. Two other Sweeper units were hovering over Lauren and Brian, and I tried to stretch to see if they were going to take them by force. A second later, two robotic arms emerged from the hovering cylindrical Sweeper unit’s body next to us, both of the hand-like grips crackling with electricity.
“No, we’re going! We’re going! Halsey, come on,” Max said, moving me bodily to walk in front of him in the opposite direction. The Sweeper unit followed us a few feet back. “Stop looking back at it or it’s going to get jumpy and nuke us.” Something about the way he said that made me laugh, and once I started laughing, it was like a dam inside me had broken. I laughed harder and harder until I couldn’t control myself. It was the funniest, saddest, most enraging thing I’d ever heard. “Halsey, what’s wrong with you? Hey…” Max pulled me in again with one arm, then wrapped the other around me in a side hug, but the tightness of his hold made it clear it was more to keep me in place than for comfort. “You have to stop that shit, Halls, or they’re going to lock you down. Take a deep breath,” Max coached as we arrived at the Ice Box, which was what everyone called the holding room just outside the office. The Sweeper droid flashed a light combination that made the door slide open, and we all went inside.
“Remain to the right,” the droid said, directing us to the far side of the room. Once we were there, a metal divider slid from the wall, closing off the left side of the room. Max and I sat at the table, which was bolted to the ground, along with the chairs. Everything was made out of molded chrome, even the walls, and it was freezing in here.
“That looks bad,” Max said, eyeing my forearm, which was bleeding and swollen. “Is that a bite mark? She bit you?” Max squinted, recoiling.
“I don’t know what happened to me out there,” I said absently. “I just reacted. I didn’t even think, Max. Something just snapped.”
“Yeah, that was pretty clear,” he chuckled. “What is that?” he asked, leaning closer and glancing at my forearm again, which had started dripping a black fluid that faded to white after a second.
“I don’t know.” I winced, horrified.
The Ice Box door opened, and for a fraction of a second, I saw Lauren ushered in by another Sweeper droid, a bloody towel held to her face. Brian wasn’t with her, so I wondered if that meant he was in the infirmary, or still crumpled into a wad on the cafeteria floor. The nurse came in after Lauren, along with Mr. Warren. He came through the opening left by the divider wall and looked at me, his eyes wide in shock.
“There’s a veritable riot in the cafeteria right now, so all the administrators are a little busy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What just happ—? Oh…” Mr. Warren stopped himself when he saw my arm. “Jan! Can you bring your kit?” he called to the nurse, who was still on the other side of the divider. She came over with a small string backpack and a lunchbox-sized medical case.
“Bite wound. Wonderful. Hold your arm out please,” she said with a sigh. “What is this?” she said to herself as she got a little closer. I did as she asked, and tried not to make any noises when she sprayed what was clearly either battery acid or maybe just plain liquid nitrogen on the broken skin.
Because it hurt.
A lot.
I gulped a breath and pushed it down my throat to keep the imminent screams from coming out.
“The droid replay shows Lauren shoving you into the pillar, so no need to go into what provoked you there,” Mr. Warren said, leaning against the wall. “Did that have something to do with what happened this morning, Halsey?”
I squirmed in my seat trying to figure out how not to tell him what Brian said about a morning quickie, but still say enough to justify my attempts to make him the newest—and hairiest—soprano in our school.
“No,” I answered simply.
Max cleared his throat. “Actually, I would bet Brian had Lauren attack her just now. They were right there in line together,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me.
I didn’t have a chance to reply before a loud crash hit the wall next to us, then another, like Lauren was trying to break through the divider. But that was impossible since all the furniture in both spaces was bolted to the floor.
“What the—?” Mr. Warren darted to the gap in the door, but ducked just in time to avoid being crushed by one of the Sweeper droids hitting the wall near his head.
“Emergency-police!” the nurse screamed.
“Blue unit respond. PP743 droid is disabled. Standby for live feed,” the Sweeper droid with us said just before snarls from the next room made it seem like we’d just been transported to a lion’s den. The Sweeper droid moved into the space between the rooms left by the divider gap. Max moved like lightning just behind it, his expression immediately blanching.
“What…” he said through a gasp, then backpedalled into Mr. Warren. “Holy shit, we need to get out of here!”
“What’s happening?” I shouted.
“How do you close the door? Close the door!” he said, his voice raised in panic as he hit random buttons on the wall panel. He stopped abruptly and shouted in pain as he pulled his hand back, a gash across his palm already starting to bleed. The Sweeper droid with us zipped through the opening just before Mr. Warren keyed in a combination that sealed the wall the rest of the way. More crashing, more growling and snarling, but this time, the sound of scraping also came through the wall.
“Are you OK? What’s happening!?” I shouted to Max.
“I don’t know! Lauren’s just—I don’t know. She’s…broken.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I shook my head at him as the burning sensati
on on my arm intensified.
“She’s crouching on the table in there!” Max said, all the blood having drained from his face. “And her arms and legs—I don’t know, her neck—it’s all just…bent the wrong way,” he continued, shaking his head seemingly in disbelief of what he, himself, had just seen.
“What?” I said quietly and moved closer to him, but another loud crash hit the wall, and we all jumped.
“Get under the table and don’t make a sound,” Mr. Warren said. “Help is coming.”
Chapter Five
It was at least another thirty minutes before live patrols arrived—we could hear their voices coming through the metal divider, which was dented inward at us in various places from whatever Lauren had apparently launched against it. My guess was it was the other Sweeper droid unit that had been in here with us not too long ago. The nurse had dressed Max’s gash, but he held his hand tightly to his chest, obviously in a lot of pain.
“All clear!” a male officer’s voice said. “All clear on that side?”
“We’re good in here!” Mr. Warren answered. “It’s safe.”
The divider wall opened, but stopped about two-thirds of the way into the wall since it was too damaged to slide back in. There was black fluid all over the room next to us, but it didn’t seem to be blood.
“Is that oil?” Max and I exchanged glances.
“Must be.” I nodded, holding my bandaged arm, which had started to throb now as well as burn where Lauren had bitten me. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little worried about what kind of germs were coursing through my veins after seeing the damage in the little room—the metal table and chairs all dented and broken—and after Max’s visceral description of Lauren crouching on the table and bending in weird ways.
“Any injuries?” the live patrol asked.
“We have a bite wound and a gash, but they’re patched up,” Mr. Warren told the officer, who was looking a little out of sorts himself. “Where’s Lauren? There was another student on that side of the divider.”
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