***
The electronics lab was trashed, and Monday’s electronics class was being held in one of the biology rooms upstairs. None of the students had their projects and Ms. Hayes had none of the props she used to augment her lectures. Brendan sat with Poser and Vlad, but both were distracted.
“We need to get into the lab,” Brendan said. “All my spare drone parts are in there.”
“When?” Poser asked.
“Right now.”
He got up and excused himself to go to the bathroom. Vlad followed.
“I said I’d help,” Vlad said.
Brendan didn’t argue. They went downstairs. He motioned for Vlad to stay outside while he tried the doors. They were locked. He went outside and found a piece of plywood covering the window that had been broken. He pulled at the bottom. A pair of screws dislodged from the stucco. He managed to wiggle underneath the sheet of wood and climb into the lab.
Cabinets and drawers had been pried open. Silicon, plastic, and metal pieces were everywhere. At first glance Brendan thought nothing had been spared, but a few drawers remained intact. His was not. He didn’t recognize anything among the debris. His drawer was empty, its contents either destroyed or stolen.
Vlad knocked on the door. Brendan opened it and let him in.
“You should wait outside,” Brendan said, but Vlad went straight for his project drawer and took out the pieces of his sonic gun. It had survived the attack, perhaps because the individual parts didn’t look like much of anything worth breaking. He then filled his pack with other pieces of equipment, his movements measured and his expression stern. Brendan collected what he needed. He still had his tiny drones they’d used at the football game, but now he had enough parts to assemble more.
They paused at the door. Brendan caught Vlad by the arm.
“You don’t have to do this. It’s okay. I know I’m hell-bent on this, but there’s no point in getting you further involved.”
“I’m involved already,” Vlad said.
“Sit it out.”
“Like I did when you guys went to rescue Poser. Or every other time you used a gate. I’m not going to be the friend who doesn’t step up.”
“You’ve done more than that already.”
“Let go of my arm. I’m helping whether you want me to or not. Besides, I have a confession to make.” Brendan gestured for Vlad to go on. “I put that password encryption on your program because I didn’t trust you. I thought you were flirting with going off the deep end.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Either way, I’m going to the game with you. Now can we please get back to class?”
***
They built more tiny drones in Poser’s room. Poser kept his reverb-heavy electric violin and bass music down to merely ear-piercing levels, until Brendan finally asked him to turn it off. They completed three drones in an hour with the basic materials taken from the lab.
“Not bad,” Brendan said as he tested the first drone. Soon its two companions were flying along with it. “I can test these more later. I need to know if you’re willing to bring your sonic gun next week.”
“Please say yes,” Poser said.
“Yes,” Vlad said. “I’ll bring it.”
“How much stronger can you make it?” Brendan asked.
“Enough to shatter glass.”
“Would that hurt someone?”
“Of course. It could ruin their hearing, too.”
“I’m going to regret this, but use it at its normal level on me.”
“You serious?”
“I need to know what it will do if we use it against someone.”
“Guys?” Poser interrupted. “Before we go any further, there are some really nice stereo components in this room. Let’s take it to the roof.”
Getting shot with Vlad’s sonic weapon was like having a wet towel of living noise dropped on his head. His teeth and muscles and joints ached. His ears hummed, and although he actually heard nothing, it felt like needles were being jabbed into his ear canals. He thought his stomach would give way, sending his dinner in all directions.
Vlad turned it off.
“Wow,” Brendan said.
“Yeah.”
They looked at Poser. “I’m good, thanks,” he said.
“What else it can do?” Brendan asked.
“It has a few settings for range. Short with a wide arc effect. Adjusting the intensity requires pulling the front of the gun off.” Vlad started to put the gun away.
“Wait,” Brendan said. “Show me.”
14. Blindside
“They get two consecutive home games?” Brendan asked. “I’d feel better if we were at our own school. In case something goes wrong.”
Poser nodded. “That’s why it’s called a home field advantage.”
Brendan, Vlad, and Poser sat in the visitors’ bleachers and watched the crowd filter in. On the plus side, Brendan recognized almost everyone: students, their family, and faculty. The downside was that they knew him, too. Anonymous action would be tricky.
He had texted Tina on the ride over to confirm she had made her flight home and arrived in Scottsdale, but he hadn’t heard back. She had been quiet most of the week, and though she met them all at lunch on Friday, she didn’t ask about their plans. Both Vlad and Poser caught the hint and they didn’t talk about what they were doing to prepare for the game.
Brendan looked over at Vlad. The boy had a fixed smile on his face. Perspiration dotted his forehead.
“Try to relax,” Brendan said.
Poser nodded in the direction of the field. The Cathedral Valley High players came out to whoops from the home crowd. Bull Johnson led the pack. He was a giant among dwarves. When the Dutchman Springs team made their entrance, Tyler was visible, but he was a mere mortal compared to Bull.
Lucille had checked with Brendan during the week, less to see if he was okay than to make sure he was still locked in on the plan. She ignored any questions about her own health, and Brendan didn’t mention it to the others. He had seen her Friday afternoon between classes for final parting words before the game. “Don’t screw up,” Lucille had said. At least her eyes had been clear, but she’d looked nervous.
“We’re going to kick butt,” he had replied.
“Make sure you do.”
Brendan felt an unusual calm. Perhaps it was because he understood there could be only a few possible outcomes. One team or the other would win. Brendan and his friends might counter whatever the Cat Valley students threw in their direction, or they might not. Or perhaps it was because security hadn’t said anything else to Brendan about the previous weekend’s campus attack, and he was no longer suspected of having a role in trashing the lab.
He opened his bag and confirmed six drones were in there, along with his tablet. He put three of the tiny machines in his pocket. They had speculated on the nature of what had powered off his phone at last week’s game and what had attacked him during the raid on the lab. The most likely culprit was another drone, something small, fast, and capable of delivering an electric shock. But they couldn’t understand how it, or they, moved like liquid. Brendan hoped being in among the crowd would mitigate this type of attack, but the open air and the gaps under each step of the bleachers were obvious weak points. Whoever their drone pilot was (he guessed it was the girl) had skill, and he hadn’t even seen her use any kind of remote.
“Maybe this isn’t the best spot,” Brendan said.
“Little late for a change of plans,” Poser said. “And they got you and your tablet last time we stood down on the field.”
“Maybe they won’t try anything and the teams will just play,” Vlad said, “and we won’t have to do anything.”
“We’re not here to police their cheating,” Brendan said. “We’re here to make sure we win.”
The game began. It quickly became apparent that Bull was after Tyler, even getting a penalty on a late hit. But to Tyler’s credit, he got up every time, ready for m
ore. Then in the second quarter Bull nailed Tyler full on while ostensibly trying to get to the Dutchman Springs quarterback. Both boys went down, but Tyler didn’t get up.
After one of the coaches checked on Tyler, he got back up and appeared ready to play. Then he screamed and began slapping at his leg. He tore off his cleat. The coaches and players gathering around him made seeing anything else difficult.
“They’ve started,” Brendan said. “She’s doing something to him. We need to go on the offensive.”
Poser stood up and headed down the bleachers. Vlad seemed to be frozen. “Come on,” Brendan said, but Vlad shook his head. Brendan just nodded and took the bag from him.
He and Poser met at the side of the bleachers. A security guard stood nearby, looking bored. Brendan and Poser gave him a wide berth and made their way around the field. Tyler was being helped to the sidelines, the stinging attack appearing to have stopped. Whatever the stinging bugs or drones were, they had to be smaller than anything Brendan had ever seen. How could something move that fast, be almost invisible, and still be subject to a user’s control?
“We’re sitting ducks out here,” Poser said.
Brendan couldn’t argue. There were too many people. Play resumed as Brendan and Poser looked for a spot to set up. Then the Cathedral Valley fans went wild. The muddy-voiced announcer on the PA, who had seemed incapable of using distinct syllables, finally said something Brendan understood:
“Touchdown.”
“Let’s just get the drones up and see what happens,” Poser said.
They were in the midst of the Cathedral Valley fans. No had noticed them yet, but it would only be a matter of time. He surreptitiously scanned the crowd but didn’t see the girl. Then he saw a nearby rooftop shrouded in shadow.
“Follow me,” Brendan said.
Climbing the downpipe from the rain gutter was easy enough, but the outside corridor overhang had metal edges that hurt Brendan’s hands as he pulled himself up. Poser tossed up the two packs before climbing up himself. They both paused to watch and listen. No one had seen them. It was an easy climb from the corridor overhang to the top of the building attached to the gym. The spaces between the solar panels afforded them excellent cover.
The Cathedral Valley High band marched onto the field. It was halftime.
Brendan got all his equipment out. He sent a drone up for surveillance and handed the tablet to Poser. As Poser flew and got an overview of the field, Brendan put Vlad’s gun together.
“You know, you’re supposed to be doing this,” Poser said. “You’re Drone Boy, or whatever your lame handle is going to be.”
The gun clicked together. The sights were open; there was no scope. He hadn’t gotten around to finding out the gun’s maximum range. He looked down the barrel and saw the field perfectly, although the home sidelines were obscured. The Valley Cat cheerleaders were doing a routine and he had them in his sights.
“You’re not going to…” Poser said.
“Of course not! Besides, I wouldn’t want to chance spoiling our position by doing a test run.” He watched as three cheerleaders were simultaneously flipped into the air and caught by their squadmates.
A whistle blast signaled the end of halftime. The teams again lined up on the field. Dutchman Springs received the ball and began a fast, short pass advance up the field.
“Tyler is still on the sidelines,” Poser said. “Strange. No sight of Lucille.”
Brendan nodded. He tried watching the game with the gun poised and ready to fire. Even with the biggest player as his target, it looked impossible to get a shot without having others in the way.
“You know what you’re doing?” Poser asked.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be wasting my Friday night at a football game.”
A short throw from the Dutchman Springs quarterback landed in the receiver’s arms, but the receiver momentarily hesitated as the Cathedral Valley defenders moved in. Bull was making a beeline for him and the receiver was caught like a deer in headlights. Brendan didn’t want to get anyone unnecessarily sick, but Bull had to be stopped. He aimed and pulled the trigger. The slightest hum followed, which Brendan felt more than heard. Bull smashed into the receiver and both boys fell to the field. Bull tried to get up. He unstrapped his helmet, and then he puked on the turf. He peeled the helmet off, pitching it away. Brendan kept the gun pointed and the trigger pulled. The receiver tried to get up but stumbled, clutching his stomach.
“Dude, that’s enough,” Poser said. “That’s one of our guys.”
Brendan released the trigger and watched.
The Cathedral Valley coaches examined Bull and then helped him up. A few fans in the front rows of the visitor bleachers, all in a direct line from where Bull stood, were obviously uncomfortable, but the effect was passing. The receiver looked fine, and Bull had recovered enough to protest as he was removed from the field.
“I’m guessing vomit is going to be read as a concussion,” Brendan said. “With Tyler out, it’s actually looking like an even game. Keep your eyes open.”
“I see a few of our fans heading for the porta-potties. Congrats, you have achieved collateral damage.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Brendan said miserably.
“Tell that to the people with a case of the mysterious sonic squirts.”
As the game continued without Bull, Brendan realized neither team was particularly good. Perhaps both relied too much on their star players. There was a fumble, and Cathedral Valley recovered the ball only to throw an interception without one of their own receivers anywhere near where the ball had been caught. Dutchman Springs ran the ball in and the game was tied.
Brendan prepared the other drones. The three smallest he kept grounded, but the other two he sent up to join the first. Poser slaved them together using the tablet.
“If they’re going to try something again, it’ll be soon,” Brendan said.
Poser handed the tablet over. “Then you fly these things. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t want Lucille pissed at me for screwing up.”
A minute later, Brendan saw it happen. During a clean short pass, the ball appeared to drop as if it had hit a wind shear. It bounced and was incomplete. Dutchman Springs would have to punt away. Brendan zoomed in on the ball. He opened the view onscreen as large as it would go.
The ball looked wet. A player on the sidelines pitched it to the ref. Several drops rolled off of it and dripped down to the field. Brendan focused on the ground. Players moved past, occasionally blocking the view, but he could see the smallest patch of turf glisten.
“There’s something there that was on the ball,” Brendan said. “Shining, like drops of water.”
“Everyone looks sweaty. Could be that.”
“I don’t think so. It’s the same stuff that was on me.”
“While that’s interesting, we can’t do much about it now. Fly your drones and let’s win this thing.”
Brendan ignored him and remained focused on the patch of ground. The glistening droplets appeared to move across the turf. It was difficult to track, as the lights shined bright and hot down onto the field. The anomaly defied any attempts to lock on it as a target using the drone program. Suddenly the image shook wildly. The camera’s vantage point swung around as if the drone had been violently disturbed. Brendan looked up.
A dark shape shot over them.
“Trouble,” Brendan said. He had his drones search for anything flying. One caught a target and painted a red square on a high shadow making a long turn. It was large, man-sized, and coming back again in their direction.
“Get down!” He pulled Poser under the cover of one of the solar panels. He felt the air move and heard something whip past them. Onscreen, all three drones had a target. He pushed them all to intercept, although he knew they weren’t fast enough to keep up and could do little but harry someone flying so fast.
“That’s the guy who clobbered me. We have to get off the roof.”
As Poser g
ot ready to drop down onto the overhang, he held the pack with the gun on top of his head.
“Don’t damage that,” Brendan hissed.
“I’m more worried about my head,” Poser said.
Once on the overhang, Brendan checked his screen. All three drones were chasing the flying figure, and Brendan saw himself and Poser in the camera’s feed as the figure dove in their direction.
“Duck!”
Something dropped next to them that sparked and sputtered orange. A row of firecrackers began to pop and bang next to them.
They ran along the overhang, leaving the noise behind them. It would have everyone’s attention, especially security. They found a raised planter to swing down to. Brendan pushed his tablet into his pack and followed Poser down. He dropped and rolled, the pack in his arms, but hit something that sent sharp stabbing pricks into his back. He yowled and pulled away. The pain persisted. He tried to grab at whatever was stuck to him but couldn’t reach it. Poser got him to hold still long enough to remove the cactus parts.
“People are coming,” Poser said. “We’ve got to move.”
As Poser dragged him along, Brendan took out his tablet. His drones were up there somewhere. The screen could only display one drone’s perspective at a time. He cycled through all three and confirmed one was down. The other two had lost their target and had defaulted to hover mode. He flew them down and had them follow.
They jogged along through the school and headed towards the far parking lot. The drones tagged along just behind them. They found a dark corner, and Brendan brought the drones in and powered them down.
“Your familiars are hardly inconspicuous,” Poser said.
“Let’s keep going. We’ll have to make our way around back to the game without anyone seeing. Our chaperone is going to notice we’re gone.”
Poser nodded. He wore a wide grin. They ran.
As they headed out through the rows of cars, a black van sped up and crossed their path. A side door opened and two men in suits got out. Agent Walters stepped out of the passenger door.
The Dark Academy Page 9