Supervillain High

by Gerhard Gehrke

  ***

  The line of students waiting for the phone ran outside his counselor’s office. It seemed every student on campus was here waiting their turn to call home. The late afternoon announcement of the return of landline service had started a near stampede. The sun was setting by the time Brendan made it to the front of the upstairs office. Before he got through the door, he heard a groan, followed by a growing chorus of complaints. The phones were out again. He felt his own anger rise but kept it in check. There were at least twenty students behind him, and easily as many in the six other lines waiting in front of each office.

  Mr. Childes came out, gesturing for all to be calm. He took down names and in which order they waited. He apologized and promised they would be summoned back once phone service was restored. Many students stood their ground, but Brendan’s stomach growled, so he left to get something to eat. As he walked along with the scattered crowd, he looked up at the school’s skyline, outlined by the red glow of the sunset.

  He had only been to the rooftop of his own dorm. The campus had seven other tall buildings of approximate equal height. He wanted to see them all. There were three other dorms, and he doubted anyone would hide anything secretive there, but he wouldn’t know for certain until he saw for himself.

  Deep in thought, he literally ran into Charlotte.

  Other nearby students almost collided with him too, until the flow of moving bodies found a path of less resistance around the two. Charlotte pulled Brendan off the walkway and led him to a curved bench by a small stone fountain.

  “I’m glad I found you,” she said. She had a worried look on her face.

  “I’m okay. What’s wrong?”

  “I, uh, heard that campus security had you.”

  “Um, no. I went to the edge of the campus this morning. I got escorted back.” He decided not to tell her about his radio or the A.V. Club’s suspicions about a signal blocker.

  She took a step back and gave him a once-over, as if he had asked her if his clothes were clean.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Look, I hate to be vague. But you have to believe me when I say you might be in danger. Going off campus is stupid.”

  “I wasn’t off campus. I just went down to the parking garage. I saw that the cops are still investigating.”

  “They are, but they’re not the problem, at least not yet. If security thinks you’re doing something you’re not supposed to, that could mean big trouble.”

  He shook his head. “I already know that. I got into a fight. The last thing I want is to get kicked out of school.”

  “That’s not the danger I’m talking about. Look, I know you think you’re accomplishing something by poking around. Just stop. There’s things here at school you don’t know about, can’t know about. Me telling you this probably won’t get you to stop looking, but ask yourself why you’re here at school. Go to class, Brendan. Get good grades. Stay in your room at night. The emergency will blow over soon enough.”

  “Is that what you’re doing? Waiting for this to all blow over?”

  “Look, you’re really smart. You’re also too curious for your own good. Can you just accept that I don’t want anything to happen to you?”

  He felt a rush of anger. “This isn’t helping. If you know something about what’s going on and why I can’t even call my mom or listen to the news on the radio like it’s the 1950s, then tell me. A mysterious warning to get me to stay inside and be a good student doesn’t help me and certainly doesn’t tell me anything. If what I’m doing is upsetting you, then fine. I’ll keep out of your way. But don’t corner me like this and ask me to stop because of how dangerous school has suddenly become.”

  Some of the passing students were staring. He had gotten louder than he liked. But Charlotte fiddled with the drawstring of her hoodie and then gave a nod.

  “Okay,” she said. “I understand I can’t keep you from doing what you’re doing. Then I’ll help you, and maybe you can help me. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  14. The Truce

  It felt weird being at school and having nothing else to do but go to class. He had a date with Charlotte for that night where he hoped she would reveal more, but she hadn’t exactly promised.

  “We’ll talk more then,” Charlotte had said before departing.

  But he had something to look forward to, even if that meant just learning anything about her and what she might be up to. Maybe she was full of it and was messing with him, or delusional or suffering from some sort of mental breakdown. But the mystery of her was compelling.

  The rest of the students continued along in their routine the best they could. Some were overly energetic in throwing themselves into schoolwork, while others weren’t adjusting quite as well. A few were reduced to quivering, weepy souls afraid of their own shadows.

  “It’s not like anyone died,” a boy with a buzz cut named Dylon was saying to the few students listening to him. The English lit teacher was over speaking to one group of students on the other side of the classroom. A girl sitting behind Brendan had her head down. At the beginning of class she had been crying quietly to herself.

  “No one got hurt,” Dylon continued. “It was all just some college-level prank that everyone is taking wayyy too seriously. What a bunch of weaklings.”

  “Can we just get back to discussing the play?” another boy asked. They all had their tablets out. They were supposed to be doing a read-around of a scene from A Raisin in the Sun.

  But Dylon wasn’t finished. “So you can’t call home? Big deal. TV’s out? Read a book. Do so many of you think you’re such a special snowflake that masked men actually want to come here and kidnap you for ransom? Please.”

  Brendan didn’t like the crying either, but for some reason Dylon’s words were dialing him up. He made a fist under his desk, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. He said, “The cops shot at least one of the attackers. There’s blood on the pavement.”

  This caught the group’s attention.

  “So?”

  “You said no one got hurt. Some may have even seen it happen. People actually getting shot. Did you see it?”

  Dylon glared at him. He wasn’t quite in the same league as Paul and Henry, but he was bigger than Brendan. But then Dylon broke eye contact. He brought up his tablet and muttered, “Which one am I? Karl?”

  The others returned their attention to the play.

  Someone poked Brendan’s shoulder. He almost jumped when he saw it was Lucille.

  “Easy, there,” she said. “I won’t bite. Can we talk?”

  When he saw she meant heading to another part of the classroom, he said to his group, “Skip my parts. Sorry.”

  He met her over at a table stacked with paper supplies. The teacher saw them but made no comment.

  “Crazy couple of days, huh?” Lucille said.

  “This play’s theme is not that complicated. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

  “Don’t be a jerk. That’s not what I want to talk about.”

  She pointed over to her own read-around group. Paul was there, intent on his tablet and the student who was reciting her lines. Brendan had been surprised when neither he nor Paul was moved to another class after their fight in the cafeteria. In fact, not a word had been said about the matter. Brendan figured it was because of the attack on campus. In any case, whatever hurt Brendan had inflicted on Paul didn’t show. Brendan’s own face was only mildly sore, even though the discoloration was pronounced, the blues and blacks becoming swirls of greenish and yellowish skin around his eye. Maybe that was what caused Dylon to back down: the face of a boy who wasn’t afraid to fight.

  “What am I looking at?” Brendan asked. “Paul can read. Congratulations.”

  “He’s acting funny.”

  “This is news to you?”

  “Just stop. I’m serious. He was shot with a dart by one of the men. A pair of them came up to the back of the gym and hit six students. Paul was one of the
m. And all this morning, he’s been like a completely different person.”

  “He looks fine to me. Wait—did you not know he knew how to read?”

  She scowled. Her blue eyes were death. This was the Lucille he knew.

  “Look,” Brendan said. “Take him to see the nurse, okay? Now believe it or not, I have school to do.”

  He returned to his group in time for the teacher to prompt them forward into their next scene. But he found himself looking over at Paul. He looked like any other student, if a bit larger: attentive, maybe even more alert than some of the others. But perhaps this was normal for Paul. Brendan didn’t know him well enough to think otherwise. Lucille rejoined her group. Paul ignored her.

  Maybe Brendan’s devastating uppercut had broken her charmed hold on him.

  Good.

  ***

  Poser was back. He was already seated at their workbench in the electronics class when Brendan got there. Ms. Hayes began with a short video in which an animated pair of frogs broke down formulae on conductivity.

  Brendan nudged Poser. Poser gave a smile and a nod and watched the video attentively. He had changed his clothes since the last time Brendan had seen him. His hair was flat and combed back, and he wore no makeup. Brendan scooted closer and elbowed him.

  “We’ll talk later,” Poser whispered, his eyes locked forward.

  Ms. Hayes gave them three sample problems to work out and started into an explanation.

  “Come on, Brian,” Brendan hissed. “Tell me something.”

  “I came back. It was too risky.” Poser pulled his tablet close and began scribbling on the screen with his stylus. Brendan grabbed his arm.

  “Mr. Garza,” Ms. Hayes said. The class went perfectly quiet and all eyes turned in Brendan’s direction. “Why don’t you take a seat over here?” She pointed to a vacant table up front where Poser usually sat. Some in the class “ooohed.” Brendan went up front and made a show of paying attention.

  “This is an individual exercise. If you need assistance, please let me know.”

  Brendan continued to keep an eye on his friend. Vlad was watching him too, and trying to mouth something to Brendan that he couldn’t make out. He kept holding up his right hand with his stylus. Brendan just shook his head. He looked over the sample problems on his tablet. None of them were making sense. When the teacher finished her lecture, she hovered over Brendan as he stared at his screen.

  He started guessing, knowing he was wrong but making a good show of working on the problems. Finally Ms. Hayes moved along. When they broke for their lab exercise, she had Brendan stay with her as she went over the equations. He kept looking across the classroom.

  When he finally focused enough to finish, she said, “See? These aren’t that hard. I know the lab is more interesting than this part of the course, but you’ll need to master it for a passing grade. But I knew you could do it, Mr. Garza.”

  He nodded. “Thanks, Ms. Hayes.” He rose to go to his group, but Poser wasn’t there.

  “Where did he go?” he asked Vlad.

  “He took off before I could ask him anything. There’s ten more minutes of class.”

  Ms. Hayes was busy with another student. Brendan said, “If she asks, tell her I went to the bathroom.”

  He went out into the hall, then checked the restroom and the front lobby. He didn’t see Poser. Only a few other students were around. Classes typically got out at the same time, and the last period was mandatory in a student’s schedule. He stepped outside and looked down the walkways towards the center of campus. He was about to head towards the dorm when he heard a voice.

  “Are you looking for me?” Poser asked. He sat on a concrete bench, his tablet in hand and his pack between his feet.

  “What happened to you?”

  “It was too risky.”

  “Yeah, you already said that. But you left last night and were gone all day. How far did you make it?”

  “Pretty far, but then I turned back. It was a long walk. Look, I got tagged as absent from the rest of my classes, so I have some catch-up to do.”

  Brendan looked over at Poser’s tablet. He had the school network and class material onscreen. The school’s own network was up, at least.

  “Did you find a phone? Or a radio? Anything?”

  Poser looked up for a moment as if he wasn’t following, then said, “No. I didn’t find any of those things.”

  “Was the hyperloop working? You must have seen something.”

  Poser thought for a second. “No, I didn’t see anything that could help. Sorry.”

  Brendan just stood and stared. His own tablet beeped once, an alert signaling the end of class. Then the school chime sounded. Soon a flow of students was leaving the science building.

  Poser saw this and put his tablet away. “I’ll see you later,” he said. He joined the crowd, leaving Brendan standing there feeling confused.

  Vlad came out and spotted Brendan. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Kinda. It was weird. He says he didn’t see or hear anything. But it’s like he’s from another planet.”

  “Huh. Maybe he’s just tired if he’s been sneaking around all night.”

  “Maybe. I thought him leaving was stupid, but I was hoping he would have discovered something. So what were you trying to tell me earlier?”

  “I was wondering if you noticed. Poser was writing with his right hand. He’s a lefty.”

  “I wasn’t paying attention. Maybe he’s just screwing around. But I’ll check with him later.”

  “So, this danger thing you mentioned,” Vlad said. “Do you believe it has to do with the attack on campus?”

  “I won’t jump to any conclusions. I have no idea what the attack was all about, but Charlotte said to watch out for school security. I’m meeting her later. Maybe Poser is just stressed like the rest of us. Or maybe he just all of a sudden got weirder.”

  ***

  Poser sat with the A.V. Club at dinner. Tina was rambling on about supers, speculating on whether there were real superpowers and how would they manifest. This was a topic that would normally cause Poser to take the opposite viewpoint, and they would have an hour-long debate. But Poser said nothing, answered in single syllables when spoken to, and ate his chicken chili and cornbread without comment. Even Soren spoke more than him.

  Tina finally stopped midsentence and watched Poser eat. Then she looked at Brendan and mouthed, “Is he okay?”

  “Ask him yourself,” Brendan said.

  “Ask me what?”

  “How are you feeling?” Vlad asked. “Out all night. Did anyone catch you?”

  “I wandered around. Nothing was open. I couldn’t catch a lift from anyone, so I walked back. It was all very anticlimactic.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have gone,” Tina said. “It was stupid, especially alone.”

  Brendan watched the exchange. Poser sounded normal, just subdued. He held his spoon in his right hand, but now Brendan wasn’t sure if he always had.

  An announcement came from the headmaster. He reminded students of the curfew and to remain on campus while saying nothing new. Most conversations continued without pause. A few students circulated among the tables, organizing everything from volleyball to a board-game group. Others let their fellow students know that the lounge televisions would be showing movies and other programs streamed from the school’s library. Requests were being taken.

  Poser stifled a yawn. “Good night. I’m going back to my room and to bed.”

  They watched him leave.

  “A little weird?” Tina asked. “It’s like he took cough syrup.”

  “Maybe he’s coming down with something,” Soren said.

  “Did he always eat with his right hand?” Brendan asked.

  “He wrote as a lefty,” Vlad said, “but I don’t know about eating.”

  Brendan tapped his lips. “Again, maybe he’s tired. We are too. And now we’re getting paranoid. But before we dismiss it, Lucille mentioned that Paul w
as acting strangely. I didn’t take her serious for obvious reasons, and it might be nothing. Paul got hit by a tranq dart, so who knows what aftereffects that could have.”

  No one spoke.

  “Well,” Tina said finally, “Lucille’s sitting right over there, and she’s been staring at you for the last fifteen minutes. I’ll see if she wants to talk.”

  “I’m going to see that Poser doesn’t get lost heading back to his room,” Vlad said. “I’ll catch up later.”

  They met Lucille outside. Only Henry was with her. When they got close, Henry stepped right up next to Brendan, his jaw clenching. Brendan stood fast and wondered if this had been a bad idea that would get him punched in the face again. He felt his own anger rising. His right hand tightened into a fist.

  “We come in peace,” Lucille said, but she was speaking to Henry. She gave him a dismissive wave. “Go get yourself some dessert.” He walked back towards the restaurant without comment, but remained at the door, watching.

  “How do you do it?” Tina asked.

  Lucille let out a curt laugh. “It’s amazing what proper grooming can do for a girl. You should try it.”

  “But seriously. You slipping drugs into his orange juice? Hypnotic suggestion? Holding his family hostage?”

  “Nothing so dramatic. Some boys, you just need to give them what they want, and that’s always the same thing. But I find that some will walk across burning coals with just the suggestion that they might one day get something. When the day comes that they ask for what you offered, just promise them something else. Isn’t that how God does it?”

  Before Tina could reply, Lucille put a finger against Soren’s chest. The skinny boy took a step back.

  “You guys are smart,” Lucille said. “What’s going on here? One of your number has fallen out. He’s acting like my idiot Paul, who’s sitting inside eating dinner like everything’s cool. Did something happen to yours?”