The Dark Academy (Supervillain High Book 4)

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “What did you do to him?”

  “Got him to open up. He told me just about everything about going to college at BYU and the academy and all about his wife and two kids. Then the other agents came back with you. Once they all left again, I reminded him that it was late, he’d had a long day, and if he decided to take a nap I wouldn’t mind.”

  “But how? Do you have more upstream water?”

  “I can be persuasive.”

  “Did you take his,” Poser started to ask and then made a gesture of a gun with its trigger being pulled.

  “That would be stealing,” Lucille said. “Besides, it had a fingerprint sensor.”

  “We need a game plan,” Brendan said. “We might be in trouble leaving their custody.”

  “We need lawyers,” she said. “What they’re doing is illegal. All I know is I want to get as far away from here as possible. But not without Tyler.”

  “We kind of left Vlad back at the game, too. Hopefully he was smart enough to just go back home.”

  Red lights were flashing up ahead. Emergency vehicles blocked one of the four lanes of the boulevard. Off on the side of the road was the FBI van. It appeared to have run into a parked car. A group of responders were all silhouetted in the bright lights, and Brendan couldn’t tell if any of them were Walters or his fellow agents.

  “What do you think happened to them?” Poser said.

  “Don’t look at me,” Lucille said. “I didn’t do that.”

  Brendan turned in the seat to watch as they drove past. “No idea what happened.”

  His mind raced. Too much was happening. First Myron Reece doing something with his dad. Then Agent Walters going as far as threatening him and detaining him, Poser, and Lucille. And finally, the showdown with the Cathedral Valley kids. But hadn’t they thrown down the gauntlet first? They wanted to mess with his school. Tina was right; he didn’t care about football. He wasn’t sure what about it made him so…angry? No. It wasn’t anger. But he felt more engaged with this than anything since sending Poser’s double back to Not-Earth and closing the last gate. And now, seeing the crashed van made him wonder if the Cathedral Valley High kids had gone so far as to assault the FBI to get at him.

  Not a coincidence.

  The thought that their school rivalry had escalated to such a level stirred something in him. He was on the Cathedral High students’ radar and they were after him. They knew he had been taken, and maybe knew he was coming back. The notion that perhaps Lucille had her hooks in him crossed his mind. But at that moment, he didn’t care. He wanted to go back to their school and confront them.

  The driver took them on the freeway and soon they exited again, heading straight for Cathedral Valley High School.

  Lucille received a text. “Tyler made it back to Dutchman Springs.” She leaned forward to the driver. “Take us there.”

  “Hold on,” Brendan said. “We need to go by Cathedral Valley first. Make sure Vlad is okay. We’re right here.”

  Lucille gave him a hard look. “The game’s long over. I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “I hope he is. But it will only take a few minutes to check.”

  Lucille gave the driver a nod and sat back. Her thumbs resumed their tapping on her phone screen. In another few minutes, the driver pulled over, shifted the seat forward, and opened the door. Brendan and Poser got out. Lucille hesitated.

  “Need me to wait?” the driver asked.

  “Give us ten minutes,” Lucille said.

  “Will do, sweetie.”

  Lucille exited the vehicle but kept busy with her phone. “I’m talking to my dad. I’ll wait right here.”

  The lights from the field were still on. Only a few cars remained in the lot. Brendan opened his pack and dug through its contents. His phone wasn’t there, but the tablet was.

  “Go find Vlad already,” Lucille said. “It’s cold.”

  There was no one in sight. Poser was studying the sky. “Maybe we should think about getting in that car and leaving. Vlad must have gone home once he saw we were gone. There’s no reason for us to even be here.”

  Brendan took out two of his larger drones. Using his tablet, he sent them flying. He got a high vantage on the school. The software would pick up on anything moving they could target. It only took a minute to confirm no one was outside on school grounds. Several lights were on in the gym, but he couldn’t find a window he could see through.

  Poser was looking over Brendan’s shoulder. “No one’s here. Let’s go.”

  “Give me your pack.” When he handed it over, Brendan got into it and assembled the sonic gun.

  “Is there a point to this?” Poser asked.

  “Yeah, there is,” Brendan said. “I don’t like getting beat, especially not by the kids of this school.”

  “You know the game’s over, right?” Lucille said. “And it’s not like your dad’s being kept here.”

  Brendan bristled. “I’m aware of that.” He walked towards the school, his attention fixed on the tablet screen. The drones kept scanning. Then the lights around the sports field went out. The drones’ visual receptors adjusted quickly, and now the gym appeared bright. Brendan noticed a single side door was propped open.

  Poser caught up. “Vlad!” Poser shouted. “Come on out! Time to go!”

  Brendan glared at him. “What are you doing?”

  “The sooner we find him, the sooner we leave, right? I don’t think he’s here, so let’s take a quick look and then go.”

  They walked a central corridor between wings of the school. It seemed just about every bench, tree, and cactus patch had a plaque declaring a donor to the school.

  “Whatever happened to anonymous giving?” Poser asked.

  “Not every school is funded by a mad scientist.”

  A breeze picked up. Brendan realized his drones had no way to look up. But it was just the wind. He kept his machines flying around the gym. They weren’t quiet, and getting them anywhere close to the door might alert anyone inside.

  The area around the outside of the gym was particularly dark. Brendan wondered if perhaps some lights had gone out or had been put out deliberately. He heard the loud bouncing of a basketball coming from inside. He stepped through the door and squinted at the bright lights inside the gym.

  Two kids stood around one of the basketball hoops. Brendan immediately recognized Bull Johnson. The large boy still wore his football jersey but had changed into sweatpants and sneakers. He bounced a basketball a few more times and sank a shot from near the free-throw line. A smaller, skinny boy recovered the ball. He had straight hair that stuck out in every direction and wore goggles pulled down around his neck. He spotted Brendan and Poser and clicked his tongue a few times. “Look who’s back.”

  Then Brendan noticed the girl. She was sitting cross-legged midcourt, a tablet in her lap. She looked up and snapped her gum.

  “Predictable,” the girl said. “Ike, put on your wings.”

  “The game’s over,” Brendan said. “I just wanted to make sure my friends had made it home safe.”

  The girl got up. Bull moved next to her, tossing the basketball up and down in one of his large hands. She said, “It’s not over, Brendan Garza. In fact I believe we’re just getting started.”

  17. Alarum

  “I was hoping we could talk,” Brendan said. He took a couple of steps into the gym. Besides the three Cathedral Valley High kids, they were alone. The skinny kid, Ike, went to what looked like a pile of several jackets dropped on the gym floor. When he began pulling one on, Brendan realized the entire pile was a single large garment, big enough to be some sort of blanket.

  Bull started bouncing the ball, each percussive smack on the gym floor echoing throughout the empty space.

  “What’s to talk about?” the girl said. “You’re on our turf, our school. At the moment, you’re trespassing. And that doesn’t even touch our game that you messed with.”

  Poser put a hand on Brendan’s shoulder. “Dude, let’s go.�
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  “Hold up,” Brendan said. To the girl, Brendan asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Isn’t that sweet?” Bull said. “Now he wants to get to know you.”

  “It’s okay, Bull,” she said. “We need to be polite. I’m Jennifer.” She began walking forward and proffered a hand. Brendan saw the hand was wet. But the moisture appeared to move. Drops formed on her fingertips, rolling down from her sleeve like a translucent slime.

  Brendan recoiled. “What is that?”

  “What’s what?” she asked with a laugh as she got closer. The liquid dripped on the floor. An earthy smell hit Brendan’s nose. The droplets shimmered and began to move along after her.

  Poser tugged Brendan’s arm and they began to back away.

  “Don’t be shy,” she said. The flow of the dripping liquid increased. The rolling pool behind her swirled and took to the air, becoming a small turning vortex that fell in behind her.

  “Move!” Brendan said. They ran.

  “What the hell was that?” Poser shouted.

  Brendan thrust his pack and the tablet into Poser’s arms. He then tried to get the gun out but couldn’t lock the barrel into place.

  “Quit screwing around and keep going,” Poser said.

  Brendan had slowed to a walk. There was movement behind them. Dark silhouettes emerged from the gym, outlined by the orange lights. Then the lights went out, throwing the entire campus into shadow. Brendan couldn’t see what he was doing. He put the gun parts back in the bag and hurried to keep up with Poser.

  Something whooshed by above the overhang. It was large and fast and made little noise.

  “See if you can get my drones to target him,” Brendan said.

  “I’m trying not to trip and fall, and you want me to send your toys after Rocky the Flying Boy?”

  “I think his name is Ike.”

  “Whatever! Let’s get to the car and talk about it there!”

  They made it to the end of the overhang near a roundabout that led out to the street. Brendan looked up. He didn’t relish the idea of getting knocked in the head again, but there was little choice but to break cover and keep low. Their ride was the brightest thing on the street, the pink-and-orange interior lights pulsing like a beacon. A few streetlights burned greenish-yellow, casting a weird glow down over them.

  As Brendan made it to the car, something sharp stung his right hand. He cried out. In a flurry of movement he dropped everything he was holding and swatted at his hands.

  “They’re on me,” he said. “When did they get on me?”

  “Hold still,” Poser said. He grabbed Brendan’s hand and examined it. He then took a bottle of water out of the dropped pack and poured it over Brendan’s hand, wrist, and arm. It did nothing to alleviate the stinging, and Brendan jerked away from Poser. The sharp pricks continued, but the pain wasn’t moving like it had when he had been ambushed before, and it also wasn’t as intense. He sniffed the hand and detected a pungent smell like cut grass.

  Brendan grabbed for the door to the car. It was locked. Brendan banged on the window.

  “Open up!”

  The driver looked back at Lucille. Lucille’s eyes were wide, and she slowly shook her head. “Sorry,” she mouthed. Brendan saw he had left wet marks on the door that congealed into two round circles, as if the moisture had a mind of its own. The sharp biting persisted. Then the round circles reached out towards his face like a pair of wispy fingers.

  Brendan yelped and stepped back from the car.

  Poser’s mouth hung open. “What is that stuff?”

  “I don’t know. It must have got on me earlier.”

  As Brendan bent down to wipe the back of his hand on the concrete curb, he saw someone was approaching. Bull was marching in their direction, passing between two parked vehicles and crossing the street. The large boy rolled his shoulders and there came the sound of popping and shifting muscles. Poser kicked the car door, but Lucille must have seen Bull coming. She patted the driver on the shoulder and the car drove off.

  “Hah,” Bull laughed. “Sucks to be you. I guess you’ll be sticking around.”

  They had open street around them and several residences were nearby, all with high fences and gates. The parking lot and school grounds lay open. Bull had stopped close to them, pausing as if to decide which of them to go after. Brendan took his two tiny drones out of his pocket. He activated them in quick succession, knowing they had no active program. He threw them in the air towards Bull, where they stabilized and hovered in place, causing the large boy to backpedal and swat at the air.

  “Run,” Brendan said and they sprinted towards the field.

  Something swooped down in front of them. It was Ike. He landed, jogging to a stop. His twin giant wings folded down onto his back, making him look like some kind of dragon, and the motion momentarily threw him off-balance. As he recovered, a war whoop exploded from his mouth and he gave his club a twirl in his hands. It looked black and wooden, a little shorter than a baseball bat. When Brendan and Poser tried to rush past, one of his wings snapped out in their direction with tremendous force.

  “That way,” Poser said. They ran back towards the school. Bull was lumbering in their direction. They lost sight of him as they passed under the overhangs and took a corner between two smaller buildings. The walkway led to a courtyard with no exit. Laughter erupted from behind them. Ike was cackling wildly as he shouted something to Bull.

  Brendan found a glass door to a building but it was locked. He had crouched to pick up a rock when the stinging reasserted itself on his right hand. He slapped at it furiously. Tiny droplets flew off. It was as if the water had made it worse and now there was more of the substance. “It’s like this stuff is growing,” he said. He forced himself to ignore the pain.

  “I got this,” Poser said. He took the rock from Brendan and heaved it into the glass. It bounced off, leaving the slightest mark.

  From behind them they heard a thump and the crunch of gravel. Ike had landed on top of the overhang. He whistled a single loud note.

  Poser picked up the rock and tried again. Again it bounced, this time breaking in two when it hit the ground. Bull was at the mouth of the courtyard now. He snapped his teeth. “Jenny said I get to choose how bad to man-jell you.” He headed in their direction.

  “It’s pronounced ‘mangle,’” Poser said.

  “Please stop helping,” Brendan said. He grabbed one of the rock pieces. It had a pronounced corner. He used it to strike the glass where the mark had been left. The glass shook. He hit it again and again and it finally spidered and broke. He then turned and threw the rock at Bull. The rock struck the boy in the head.

  Bull moaned and then let out a roar. He charged. Brendan tried to grab the second piece of rock but had to step away as Bull tackled Poser. They both went down to the pavement, Poser screaming muffled obscenities. Brendan snatched up the pack with the gun and reached inside. Dim lights coming through the glass allowed him to see what he was doing. The barrel snapped in place and Brendan powered it up.

  Ike sprang into the air. Something in his wing setup gave him a short vertical boost. His apparatus gave a sharp hiss as he climbed. He crested and started to dive. Brendan pointed the gun in Ike’s general direction and squeezed the trigger. There was an instant reaction: Ike’s arms went out in front of him and the dive turned into an out-of-control plunge into a patch of landscaping.

  He checked the gun to confirm it had power. Bull was on top of Poser. He had driven his fist into Poser’s gut and was about to punch again when Brendan fired.

  “Unkgh!” Bull blurted. His blow never landed and he pitched forward atop Poser, moaning. Brendan kept the trigger down for a moment, then got closer and kicked Bull off. Poser was breathing heavily. Brendan got him up and had to support him.

  “You okay?” Brendan asked. Poser only shook his head and gave Brendan and the gun an accusing look. In the center courtyard, Ike was getting up. His wings were fully retracted. He yanked a piece
of cactus from his side and shook his hand. He extracted a few large needles from one of his palms.

  Brendan kicked the window in. They ducked through the door and into the corridor. Their footfalls echoed as they ran. Poser was breathing deep, as if he were hyperventilating.

  “Need me to stop?” Brendan asked.

  Poser shook his head. “That…gun should be outlawed.”

  The corridor turned and led them towards glass double doors. Lights were on outside. When they were a few steps away from the doors, the lights began to twist and shimmer. A tide of droplets rose up before them, a reverse waterfall backlit in orange. It hung in the air like a curtain. The earthy aroma wafted through the air. Brendan raised the gun and fired. An eddy pushed through the center of the droplets only to refill a moment later. It was like passing a hand through smoke.

  Hard footsteps approached from behind. From the shadows, Jennifer was walking towards them.

  “How about dropping your little gun?” she said.

  Brendan turned to face her. Poser was bent over and breathing in short panting gasps.

  “I think you made your point,” Brendan said.

  “I don’t believe I’ve even started. I see Lucille has slipped away.”

  “You seem to know us, but we don’t know you.”

  “Isn’t this where you tell us why you’re doing all of this?” Poser asked.

  “I don’t believe in monologuing,” she said.

  Brendan glanced towards the shimmering curtain. It hadn’t moved. Jennifer had no visible device to control it. The only piece of tech he could see were her hearing aids, clunky-looking things that looked like they were made in the last century. Even the cheap ones like one of his aunts wore were basically invisible. He said, “But you’re sure interested in winning at football, even if it means attacking the opposition with whatever that is.”