The Dark Academy

by Gerhard Gehrke

  Finally, Agent Walters appeared and led his father out. His dad had his hands secured behind him, but he appeared unharmed.

  “Dad!” Brendan called as his father was placed into another car. Either his dad didn’t hear or he was ignoring Brendan. Or someway, somehow, it really was the Myron from Not-Earth who had made it through the carnage unscathed. He pounded on the cage screen above the seat in front of him. He kicked at the door.

  Agent Walters got in the front and put an arm up along the seat. His fixed smile looked more forced than usual. “To add to your growing resume: assault with a deadly weapon, interfering with a federal investigation, obstruction, destruction of federal property, and that’s all before our lawyer gets a hold of this mess.”

  “You were going to kill him,” Brendan said.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know what you told me. I also know what I saw.”

  Agent Walters let out a long sigh. Two EMTs wheeled out the first of the wounded on a stretcher and put him in the back of an ambulance. One EMT remained with him while the other ran back into the house.

  “I can’t believe you destroyed the drone,” the agent said.

  “You weren’t going to hold up your side of the bargain.”

  “Tell me you have another and we can work out a deal. There was more than one, wasn’t there? We saw prototype numbers on the drone.”

  Brendan heard a note of desperation in the agent’s voice. “The others were lost on Not-Earth. That’s it. They’re all gone.”

  Agent Walters slammed the cage screen. Brendan flinched. The agent said no more. He got out of the car to speak with one of the deputies who was looking for him.

  More vehicles arrived, including a large truck and then a helicopter. The noise and lights became a big blur. An EMT came to the car and checked Brendan out, shining a light in his eyes and asking him a few questions.

  “I’m fine,” Brendan said.

  Finally, the deputy got in and drove him away.

  ***

  He was taken to the Kern County Sheriff’s Office in Bakersfield. The small room he sat in seemed to collect every echo and rattle within the building and blend it all together with the incessant hum of the fluorescent lights. He kept hearing voices outside the door, and he expected that at any moment someone would come inside and the next chapter of this awful night would begin to unfold.

  His arm and shoulder hurt from firing the shotgun. The weapon blast and the explosions from the clown’s traps had left a persistent ringing in his ears. He worked his jaw. The flash drive in his pocket was the only thing he hadn’t lost, but once he was processed it would be snatched up. But there was a camera in the room, and he wasn’t sure he could destroy before someone stopped him. Finally, one of the deputies entered.

  She placed a bottle of water on the table. “Are you okay, honey? Do you need a bathroom? Are you going to be sick?”

  The mere suggestion made him consider it, but his stomach finally settled.

  “Where’s Agent Walters?” Brendan asked.

  “Who?” She made a confused face.

  “The FBI guy who arrested me.”

  “There’s no FBI here. Someone will be with you shortly.”

  Before she left, he said, “Wait. My dad was taken in. Myron Reece. Is he here? Is he safe?”

  She nodded. “He’s your dad? Seems like he’s a bit of a celebrity. I’m not supposed to tell you stuff like this, but we’re holding him here. He’s fine.”

  Brendan nodded and drank some water. Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Childes showed up and for the first time in Brendan’s experience, he looked angry.

  ***

  Mr. Childes sat in silence as the deputy took Brendan’s statement and a detective began a laborious inquiry as to how Brendan got involved with the matter at the desert house. Brendan answered everything but volunteered nothing. The question of drones came up. When Brendan said the investigator should ask Agent Walters, Mr. Childes interjected, “Answer the detective’s questions, Mr. Garza.”

  The comment took Brendan by surprise, and he looked at Mr. Childes more closely. There were dark lines under his eyes, and it looked like he’d hastily thrown his clothes on.

  So Brendan told the man about the drone program Agent Walters wanted, but left out everything about tech from other Earths. The detective showed no response and Brendan couldn’t tell if he was satisfied with the answers. The questions wound down when it became apparent that Brendan knew nothing about the God of Clowns save for his online videos, and that he hadn’t ever known his father’s whereabouts. Most importantly, Brendan had been the one who had called 911.

  “There will be more questions later,” the detective said. “But I’m sure you want to get back and get some sleep. Did you know there was a twenty-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to Myron Reece’s arrest?”

  ***

  Mr. Childes had the car drive itself while he sent texts and made phone calls. The night felt particularly dark, with no moon or stars and only the passing lights of traffic and road signs to mark their route. The engine and wheel noises were so soft as to be almost silent. It was like floating. Finally Mr. Childes put his phone away.

  “I lost my phone again,” Brendan said. Mr. Childes didn’t comment. It was a while before he spoke.

  “I felt certain that you don’t seek out trouble, Mr. Garza,” he said. The lights from the dashboard reflected in the man’s spectacles. “Now I’m not so sure. I believe in fighting for my students. Children will have problems. That’s to be expected. I realize some of the things you’ve faced have been beyond your control. Then the Special Agent assaulted me. And now this…I don’t know what to make of it.”

  Brendan had never heard his counselor sound so crushed. He felt a wave of guilt.

  “You explained to me your background and your relationship with your father,” Mr. Childes continued. “That he was a criminal. Mr. Appleton assured me that it wouldn’t be an issue and that the school could benefit from every sort of diversity, including giving bright young minds that had poor starts a fresh chance.”

  Brendan couldn’t help himself. “Is that what I am? A charity case? A minority to help fill some quota?”

  “Don’t be brash. You’ve trusted me with your secret about your father. I believe I’ve done nothing to warrant such an insensitive remark and have tried my utmost to protect you and make your attendance at our school as enjoyable as possible. Hasn’t the entire staff extended you every courtesy and met your every demand? But there are hundreds of other students we have to consider. As counselors, we have to navigate the school past things which might disrupt the learning atmosphere.”

  “You’re kicking me out.”

  Mr. Childes cleaned his glasses. “No. It hasn’t come to that yet. But we run a school, not a detention facility. Security and the dorm monitors are not correctional officers. We have specific language in our contracts that state a certain level of behavior has to be maintained. With your latest misadventures, some might consider you as having breached your contract. What I’m trying to say is that I can no longer shield you from the fallout of what you’ve been doing the past weeks, including whatever hijinks have been going on with Cathedral Valley High School. There’s been property damage. The school electronics lab, for one. I can’t ignore the chance that this could escalate even further and that other students and staff might be injured.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Find some way to de-escalate. It’s already a big enough issue that I’m only one voice of many at the school who have a say as to what should be done. Right now, it’s a prank that went too far. That in of itself could result in an expulsion. I’ve forestalled that. But you don’t just get to return to school and pretend everything is back to normal. Other staff will want a clear demonstration that events like this will never happen again.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “I wish I knew.”

&n
bsp; 29. Punch-Drunk

  When Brendan tried to walk to the Bean on Monday morning, security stopped him. He didn’t want to go to the student restaurant before class. He wasn’t ready to face any of his friends. And staying in his room meant he could be found.

  He had spent all of Sunday getting checked out at the hospital. Nothing was broken, and the temporary hearing loss would pass. Mr. Childes’s wife Evelyn brought him to their home and fed him that evening. Using their home phone, he’d called his mother. He was returned to school before curfew Sunday night. Poser had pounded on his door, but Brendan had told him they would talk in the morning.

  There were a few vending machines on the second floor of the dorms by the laundry machines. He bought a coffee, some almonds, and a four-pack of oatmeal cookies. After eating and drinking and watching someone else’s laundry spin, his sour stomach reasserted itself.

  He had no replacement phone yet. Part of him found the electronics-free solitude comforting. The morning classes afforded him the opportunity to doze and think about anything but his situation.

  English lit brought him face-to-face with Lucille, as they entered the classroom at the same time. She was bleary-eyed and muttered something unintelligible to him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  But she brushed past and took seat far away from him. She didn’t come over to be part of his discussion group, instead joining those seated closest to her. She didn’t seem willing to say a word to any of them, either.

  “Aren’t you famous?” a girl asked him. Her name was Joanna, and they had never spoken beyond what was necessary when working together on a group assignment.

  “What are you talking about?”

  She showed him her tablet. A video was in her recently played tab: “God of Clowns vs. Son of Drone King.” Brendan swore. When he saw he also had several other students’ attention, he swore again.

  ***

  Electronics class was held in the biology lab upstairs while the classroom below was being repaired. Both Poser and Vlad were there early waiting for him. Neither was smiling. He plopped down next to Vlad. Poser dragged his stool close.

  “You guys finish the voltage and distribution math homework?” Brendan asked.

  “Not funny,” Poser said.

  “I finished it,” Vlad said.

  Poser grabbed at Brendan’s hair and tried to get a close look at his face. Brendan slapped him away.

  “You don’t look so good,” Poser said. “Rough weekend? I was expecting to see a massive head wound that would explain you not telling me, Vlad, or Tina that you were all right!”

  “I lost my phone,” Brendan said.

  “Are your arms and legs broken? You could have knocked on my door instead of sneaking in and then out Sunday morning before I was up. I had to pick the lock on your room just to confirm you had returned.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “Shut up, I’m not done. You could have met us at the Bean. Or at the restaurant. But you weren’t at any of those places, not yesterday or this morning. It was only when I talked to people in your other classes that I found out you were there, going to class, like the crap that went on this weekend didn’t happen.”

  “I’m sorry, I just…there’s stuff I’m digesting.”

  Poser leaned forward. “Oh, really. Like you’re the only one who was assaulted by the Cathedral Valley High kids. Or kidnapped. What happened to us working on this together?”

  A theatrical “A-hem” came from the front of the class. Ms. Hayes waited patiently for Poser to stop talking. Poser reined it in until she continued her instructions on the day’s assignment. Then in a harsh whisper, he said, “Do you know I called security and my counselor on Sunday just to see if you were even here? So did Tina. Vlad, not so much. Probably was working on calculus extra credit.”

  “You’re a cretin,” Vlad said.

  “Yeah, so they tell me,” Poser said. “And now, to top it all off: this.” He took out his tablet and propped it up on the table. Brendan put his hand to the screen.

  “I saw it already,” he said. “I know it’s out there with my face and name on it. I didn’t think the clown was actually broadcasting live. I thought I had pulled the plug on their operation, but I was wrong. I used it as a bluff with Agent Walters, but it looks like everything went online as it happened. It’s out there forever. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”

  Poser and Vlad looked at each other. “Maybe there is.”

  They wouldn’t say more for the rest of the class. Brendan felt jealous watching them check their phones and send texts whenever the teacher wasn’t paying attention. Finally, he let his mind drift until the hour was up.

  “Are you going to tell me what your grand plan is?” he asked.

  “Stick around and we’ll show you,” Poser said.

  “I’d love to but I can’t. Vlad, give me your phone.”

  Vlad handed it over. Brendan called Tina and told her to meet him at his counselor’s office.

  “Wait,” Poser said as Brendan gave the phone back and prepared to leave. “You have to tell us what happened.”

  “Later. When we’re all together. But I have to go see Mr. Childes first.”

  Mr. Childes was in. He handed Brendan a new phone still in its box.

  “Thanks,” Brendan said. “I’ve been thinking about what you said after picking me up from jail. I still don’t have an answer. But please let any faculty know I’m not giving up and will appreciate the chance to prove it.”

  “That’s a start,” Mr. Childes said. “On a more immediate note, both a Detective Youngblood and a Special Agent Carver wish to make an appointment to meet with you. I had their information forwarded to the school’s attorney. Make time to call her before six tonight so these meetings can be scheduled with her present. After school hours and here on campus, I insist.”

  Brendan nodded. He watched his phone power up, and it prompted him for his user information. “I take it even going to the Bean is off-limits for me.”

  Mr. Childes said, “For now. I’m pleasantly surprised that you made it to all your classes considering everything you’ve been through.”

  “Believe it or not, I couldn’t sleep anymore and I just wanted to get back to my routine.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Yes. I’m going to need to visit my dad. He’s in custody still, I assume, but I imagine they won’t keep him local for long. I know I’m not supposed to go anywhere, but this is something I have to do.”

  “I’ll personally make sure it happens. Talk to our attorney first, then call me after. You can call her now using my phone if you wish, and then we can make inquiries as to how to make that visit possible. Tonight, even. I’ll take you, even if it means going back up to Bakersfield.”

  Tina stuck her head in the door. She gave a short wave and said, “I just wanted you to know I’m here.” She ducked back out.

  “Just…give me a minute, Mr. Childes. I need to talk to someone first.”

  Brendan got a hug from Tina as soon as he came out of Mr. Childes office. She looked tired, and it took him a moment to realize her hair was colored blue. It was a bright hue that reminded him of Blue Moon ice cream.

  “What’s this?” he asked, holding a lock of her hair.

  “My mom said I can do what I want with the hair as long as I agree to no piercings besides the ears.”

  “Seems fair, I guess.”

  They left the front office and found a lobby sitting area that was private. It was Tina’s turn to examine Brendan. “What happened?”

  “I’m fine,” Brendan said. “Just exhausted. I got bounced around a little. Just bumps and bruises.”

  “Your dad?”

  “He’s in custody. So is Myron Reece from Not-Earth.” He told her everything, from the end of the last football game to Agent Walters being foiled by the arrival of the sheriff’s deputy.

  “So you saved your dad,” she said. “He’s safe.�
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  “He’s in jail again. I’ll need to see him soon, before he gets moved. If I had been faster on my feet, had prepared more, I could have kept him out of Agent Walters’s hands and he would still be free.”

  “That’s not your job. You’re his son. He’s supposed to be the one looking out for you.” Brendan fiddled with his chair’s armrest as she spoke. “Saturday when you texted me, you said you were taking the day off. After everything we’ve been through, I thought you trusted me enough to tell me what’s going on.”

  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  She chewed her thumbnail. “You told me part of what you were up to. We were on the same page as far as checking out Agent Walters. But then you decided to help Lucille with her football games.”

  “I thought I needed her help with this. She helped some.”

  “Which means she tried to screw you over when it came time to hold up her part of the bargain.”

  Brendan nodded. He had nothing to add.

  “Help me understand why you wanted to fight the kids from the other school.”

  As he tried to find the words to explain, he realized he hadn’t come to understand it himself. Each of the fights had been unavoidable, hadn’t they? Why had he been so eager to have a rematch with the Cathedral Valley kids? The challenge? The thrill? The distraction?

  When he didn’t answer, Tina continued. “After facing the headmaster, Torben, and seeing everything the warlords did, wasn’t that enough violence? Neither one of us can say we’re unchanged by what we’ve seen. But then you put yourself in a position to not only get hurt, but to hurt other people. It sounds like maybe they deserved to have the tables turned on them when it comes to cheating, but if what they say is true, they didn’t start it. Do you understand that escalating this whole mess could have gotten more people hurt than just you?”