by ID Johnson
“Yes, yes?” all twenty students answered in unison.
Now, Ms. Lawrence pulled herself up and turned to look at her students. “Did any of you happen to see a cell phone this morning? Perhaps on the floor somewhere?”
Almost simultaneously, every child in the class shook his or her head from side to side and said, “No, ma’am,” in their most polite voices. All but one. Max Morris looked sharply to his right at Tyler Jones, his mouth agape.
Despite shaking his head and answering in the negative along with his classmates, Tyler was giving Max the stink eye like nobody’s business. As Ms. Lawrence turned back to help Sam, who was still on his hands and knees on the floor, the search becoming more frantic, Tyler’s plump hand shot out and grabbed Max by the arm. “If you say one word…” he threatened just above a whisper.
Max recoiled in pain, struggling to pull his arm free. “You’re a bully!” he hissed, finally gaining his freedom and rubbing the spot on his arm where Tyler had pinched skin.
“Maybe,” Tyler agreed, “but you’re a twig, and I will snap you in half.”
Max leaned back in his seat abruptly, unsure what to do. The war between doing what was right no matter what and the thought of being pummeled to death later on the playground raged in his head for just a moment before the words that had been ingrained in his mind for years finally won out. “Always do the right thing!” he mumbled before his hand shot up. “Ms. Lawrence!” he shrieked.
Ms. Lawrence was under a cabinet near the front of the room and the shout caused her to jump and bang her head. Stifling an “unhappy” word, she absently rubbed her crown as she backed out and turned to see who was yelling. “Yes, Max?” she asked, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.
“Tyler has it!”
“Do not!” Tyler shouted, his hand reflexively shooting out at his assailant again.
Ms. Lawrence had been doing this a long time. She knew that reaction meant there was truth in Max’s words. “Tyler? Is that true?” she asked, standing up and taking a few steps toward him, still rubbing her head. Sam was also up now and standing just to her right in front of the class.
“No, ma’am,” Tyler said, letting go of Max’s shirt and absently smoothing it as if it were a way to show his innocence. “I do have a cell phone, but my mom gave it to me.”
“He’s lying!” Max interjected. “I saw him pick it up off of the floor earlier. He’s just saying his mom gave it to him, but it isn’t true!”
“Max, that will be enough,” Ms. Lawrence said calmly. “Thank you for your help,” she added. Then, turning back to Tyler she said, “Get your phone and let Mr. Danny look at it so he can make sure it isn’t his.”
“But…” Tyler began, slumping backwards in his chair.
“Now!” Ms. Lawrence said sharply.
Tyler knew he was in trouble now, so he didn’t even bother to add “yes ma’am” as he climbed out of his chair and pulled the phone out of his pocket. As soon as it was out, Sam knew for certain it was his and rushed to get it. Ms. Lawrence looked at him oddly, and he realized he needed to slow down a bit. “This is my phone,” Sam nodded as he pulled it out of Tyler’s hand.
Tyler opened his mouth as if he were going to argue, but the look on Ms. Lawrence’s face was enough to keep him quiet. He dropped his head in shame and anger. “I…” he began, but Sam didn’t let him start his excuse or apology before he interrupted.
“Did you turn it on?” he asked, panic rising in his voice.
“No, sir,” Tyler lied, shaking his head adamantly.
“Liar!” Max shouted out. “He took it to the bathroom this morning and turned it on to make sure it worked! He told me so!”
He was standing and pointing now, and Tyler wished he was close enough to punch him in the face. “Liar!” Tyler shouted back.
Ms. Lawrence reached out and grabbed Tyler by the shoulder to keep him from crossing back over to Max. “All right, boys, that’s enough!” she said, the chipperness lessening with every passing moment. “Tyler, if you used Mr. Danny’s cell phone, you need to be honest,” she explained, leaning in closely.
“I swear I didn’t…” he began, but again Sam interrupted.
“Ms. Lawrence, would it be all right if I talked to Tyler out in the hall for a moment?” he asked, forcing a smile and patting Tyler on the arm as if they were buddies, and he just wanted to give him a good talking to.
Ms. Lawrence looked at Tyler one more time, hoping he would speak up, but when he didn’t, she sighed and returned her attention to Sam. “Yes, of course, Mr. Danny,” she replied. As Sam escorted Tyler out into the hallway, she added, “I’m very disappointed in you, Tyler.”
Sam shoved Tyler down the hallway away from the door and near a spot where he was hopeful he wouldn’t catch the attention of any of the other teachers or students as well. The hallway was empty, for the moment, and he knew as soon as he pushed Tyler he had been too rough. The boy stumbled forward, letting out a whimper as he did so. But Sam was about out of play pretend time, and he needed an answer--now. “Listen, Tyler,” he began, cornering the kid against the wall, “if you turned this damn phone on, I need to know right now!”
Tyler’s eyes widened. He’d never heard an adult use a swear at school before. “You hurt me,” he replied in surprise. “What’s the matter with you, Mr. Danny?” he asked.
“I’m not screwin’ around punk,” Sam said as he stepped closer, leaving Tyler little room to breathe. “Did you turn this damn cell phone on or not?”
“N--n--no,” Tyler replied quietly. The old man’s face was practically right up against his now, and he smelled of tobacco and stale coffee. His eyes looked funny, like they weren’t quite human, and he could see a scar in one of them that looked red and bumpy. “I promise I…”
But Sam had done enough interrogations to know pretty quickly he was lying. “Damn it!” he shouted. He picked Tyler up by the throat and held him against the wall. “You little jackass!” he screamed as the boy writhed in terror. Then, he did something he should have done a long time ago; he threw the cell phone against the cinder brick wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
At that second, he realized two things. One, he was not alone. A noise from the end of the hallway caused him to turn his head to see the daytime custodian, Juan, staring at him in fear and disgust. And two, the airplane flying over head seemed very low--too low to be flying over a school nowhere near an airport. Obviously, his time as Danny Yokes was up. Dropping the boy to the ground, he took off running at full speed, past Juan, and out the glass door at the end of the hallway, shattering it, millions of shards of glass flying everywhere. As he ran across the parking lot, he heard the school announce they were going into “Code Red Lockdown,” which meant the police would be there in a matter of moments, but as he glanced up at the airplane circling back around, he realized that the police were the least of his worries.
Juan Arriaga had taken the job as the daytime custodian at the small elementary school in Lavon, Texas, after he fled Kansas City several months ago. After seeing a vampire at Bryan Health Hospital in Lincoln, Nebraska, he had moved his whole family to Kansas City to be a custodian at Saint Luke’s Hospital. He had left there when he watched in awe as a doctor cured a gunshot victim with his bare hands. Life had been pretty normal here in Texas; he had even begun to think of Danny as a friend. Now, he stood with his legs shaking, watching in terror as his co-worker practically strangled a child and then ran past him like a phantom, crashing through a glass door completely unphased. “Dios mio!” he exclaimed. As the teachers began to lock their doors in compliance with the announcement that the school was going into lockdown, he darted into the nearest classroom and joined twenty fourth graders hiding against the far wall in the dark. These kids knew there were bad people in the world that they needed to be afraid of; they had no idea what else was out there, and he prayed they would never find out.
***
“What’s Plan-B?” Cadence was asking as
the plane circled back towards the school. Christian wasn’t answering her, however. He had crossed to the back of the plane and was digging in a storage compartment there, beginning to pull out what appeared to be backpacks and handing them out to the rest of the team. They all took them as if they knew exactly what Plan-B was and they were okay with it.
Cadence repeated her question. “What’s Plan-B?” Again, she was ignored, but this time a few of her other teammates at least glanced at her nervously, as if acknowledging they heard her, but none of them wanted to answer.
“You know we only have six, right?” Christian asked, clearly talking to Aaron
“That’s all we need,” he replied. “Someone’s got to fly the plane.”
“But what if you…”
“It’s fine,” Aaron interrupted.
“Okay….” Christian replied, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.
“What the hell is Plan-B?” Cadence yelled both aloud and through the IAC. She realized, as Christian was ignoring her, that those were not backpacks, as much as she wanted them to be, and as he stepped towards her, she realized number six was for her. “What’s Plan-B?” she whimpered as he stopped in front of her, shoving the parachute into her chest.
Christian began to answer, but before he could get much out, Aaron was out of the pilot’s seat and standing next to her. “It’ll be fine, Cadence,” he assured her, taking the parachute out of her hands and handing it to Christian, who immediately started putting it on her.
Cadence complied with Christian’s forceful movements of her own body, extending her arms when prompted to do so, etc., but her attention was still on Aaron. “You want me to jump out of this airplane?” He nodded. “Jump. Out. Of This. Perfectly. Good. Airplane?”
“It’ll be fine,” he said again.
“Oh, no!” she replied, finally beginning to fight Christian who was just buckling the last few fasteners. “There is no way in hell--in hell--that I am jumping out of this plane. And who is flying this plane, anyway?” she asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Autopilot. It’s all right,” he assured her. “Look, Cadence, we don’t have a lot of time here, so you’re gonna have to just trust me on this one, okay? I need you on the ground, and there’s only one way I can get you there on time. We’ve got visuals on the ground now, and Sam’s on the run. So… you’re jumping.”
Even as she opened her mouth to protest, the others were getting in position for Christian to open the door. “How the hell does everyone else know how to do this and I don’t?” she mumbled.
“I practiced it in training,” Meagan replied, shrugging. She looked nervous, but prepared, as she stood next to Jamie and Aurora.
“How come I…” Cadence began to ask why she hadn’t gone through that sort of training.
“No time,” Aaron cut her off, and she wasn’t sure if he meant during training or now.
“But I don’t even…”
“We’re back up to about three thousand feet, so count to three, pull on this,” he said showing her some sort of loopy thing on the front of the parachute. “When it opens, reach up and grab the guides; use them to steer your way down. Bend your knees when you land.”
“Aaron, there is no way I’m jumping out of this airplane!”
“We ready?” Christian was asking, his hand on the lever on the door.
“One second,” Aaron replied, stepping back over to the controls. He put the plane in a tight turn, which caused everyone standing to lean drastically to their right sides, but since they were all super-human no one lost their balance or fell over. “Open the door,” Aaron said calmly.
Christian complied, and one-by-one, Cadence watched her teammates leap out of the airplane, no one hesitating for more than a second, except for Meagan, who was screaming the second her feet left the edge of the plane.
Cadence was frozen in place. “Go,” Aaron shouted at her over his shoulder.
“No way!” Cadence replied, her feet solidly planted on the floor, her hands in a death grip on the seat behind her. “No f-ing way!”
“If you don’t go now, we’ll be off target,” Aaron warned, the sternness in his voice increasing.
“I don’t care. There is no way in hell I’m jumping out of this airplane!”
Aaron turned the plane again, and Cadence steadied herself, trying not to slip backwards this time.
“Fine,” he said, approaching her again. “You don’t want to jump?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She loosened her grip a bit, making the mistake of looking into his piercing blue eyes. She shook her head, the terror she was feeling evident on her face.
“You don’t have to then,” Aaron replied shrugging his shoulders.
Cadence looked at him skeptically; this seemed too easy. But, as he leaned in to kiss her, she couldn’t help but respond. His lips locked with hers, and she felt his grip around her tighten. Before she even realized what was happening, he was moving her towards the doorway. “Aaron!” she screeched as she found herself dangling over the ground.
“Bye Cadence! I love you!” he said as he tossed her out of the plane.
If it hadn’t been for the Transformation Serum she’d given him in Ireland, she was certain he wouldn’t have been strong enough to pry her hands off of him under those circumstances, but there was simply no way she could compete with his intense super strength, and before she could even attempt to claw his eyes out, she found herself freefalling, a scream of sheer terror blasting forth even as she cursed him across the IAC. “You threw me out of a plane!”
“Pull your shoot, Cadence,” he replied calmly.
“What?” she asked. She looked down at the ground and noticed the trees were getting much bigger.
“Pull your shoot, Cadence!” he yelled.
“Shit!” Cadence mumbled as she felt around on the front of the parachute for the loopy thing. She found it, and though she had no idea how many seconds had passed, she assumed it had to have been more than three. She gave it a sharp tug and suddenly felt like her shoulders were being ripped off of her body. The scream stopped, stuck in her throat as all the air seemed to rush out of her, and she had the sensation of being pulled back up into the sky, though she could tell by the nearness of the ground to her feet that she was still coming down hard.
“Steer!” he yelled at her, and she suddenly remembered the pulley things he had talked about. She looked up, and for a moment she could only see one. She grabbed it and pulled, which sent her lurching strongly to the right. “Both of them!” he reminded her. She looked up again and saw the other one. She grabbed it on her second try, and using them both, she began to figure out how to make the parachute go one direction or the other. She could see groups of trees below her, but for the most part it was pasture land and roads. There were a few other parachutes on the ground nearby, but she didn’t see anyone still in the air. In the distance, she spotted the school, and it looked like her friends who had jumped out when they were told were pretty close to the preferred landing site. She might have a little bit of running to do to catch up.
Right now, however, she needed to deal with this quickly approaching ground.
The closer she got, the better she could see obstacles on the ground, which included some cows, brush, and a barbed wire fence she hadn’t been able to see from higher up. Aiming for a wider space between the trees, she pulled down hard with both of her hands, thinking that might slow her down. As she began to pass the tops of trees, she realized she was in for a pretty hard impact within a few seconds. She braced herself, inhaling sharply, mumbling, “I don’t want to die!” over and over, despite the fact that she knew this couldn’t actually kill her.
But it could hurt like hell.
And it did.
It wasn’t until she hit the ground that she remembered what Aaron had said about bending her knees, just a split second too late, she also didn’t register that he was yelling at her to do so until the moment had
passed. As soon as her left leg hit the ground, she knew she’d messed up. She heard a loud pop, and she fell forward, rolling onto her side. Her right leg was fine, as she had, apparently, bent it just enough to keep from hurting herself. And while her left leg didn’t seem to be broken, there was definitely something wrong. The pain wasn’t severe enough for it to be a broken bone, but her knee began to throb, and she knew almost instantly what she had done. She struggled to unbuckle the parachute, keeping her knee bent and as still as possible. As soon as she was free, she decided to try and stand up. It buckled, and she fell back to the ground. She had seen a girl on her basketball team do this in high school. She had definitely torn her ACL. “Shit,” she whispered. She’d be of no use to anyone at this point. Her teammates could be miles away, and either they would get Sam without her, or he would get away. There was nothing she could do about it. Tears began to sting her eyes, not because of the pain but because she knew she was missing her chance to get vengeance for Elliott. She couldn’t bear to think about that. Pushing the thoughts out of her mind, she returned her attention to the IAC. Maybe she could help that way--somehow. She definitely couldn’t think about the possibility of Sam getting away again, not when they were so close.
***
As Sam sprinted across the parking lot to where he had left his truck, a black SUV pulled out of a parking spot and raced towards him. His initial instinct was to turn the other way and run, until he heard a familiar voice shouting his name. “Sam! Get in!” Alex Sanchez yelled as he pulled the vehicle around.
Sam didn’t hesitate to jump into the vehicle. However, Alex didn’t go very far, pulling up to Sam’s old truck and stopping. “Listen, you don’t have much time. They’re on their way right now. I saw members of the DFW team leave about an hour ago, and I got here as fast as I could. You still know how to fly an AgCat?”
Having difficulty processing all of this information at first, Sam hesitated, but then, when the words caught up to him, he nodded his head, “Yeah, sure,” he replied.