Getting to his feet with the help of his particles, Alex was worse for wear. His uniform was burnt and tattered. He'd been lucky the materials hadn't caught flames.
Like a second wind, something burst within Alex and he felt power overflow him. He had opened his first channel.
"Carl!" The leader shouted to his friend, then turned his angry eyes on the grinning Alex. "You..."
"They say not to turn your back on the enemy,” Alex sneered. "Don't underestimate me."
"Even swimmers drown,” the leader retorted, raising both hands.
"What's that—"
A lava geyser, larger than the one the tall man had summoned before, shot into the air. Walking alongside it, the man put a hand to the angry mass of bright oranges and deep reds, and pushed it forth in a wave.
Fiery red cracks spread through the smooth rocks in the wave's wake before the molten rock ate it. Alex, retreating to the bridge, began to panic as the wave, climbing the cement spread upon it like peanut butter on bread. The bridge shuddered as the lava broke it down, a sizzling of steam flaring up as portions tipped over the sides.
Making his last stand in the bridge's middle, Alex sent in the creek’s silt from the sides and simultaneously began to build a wall. But to no avail. The molten rock, unrelenting, although slow, moved through it all steadily, crawling for him inch by inch, second by second, until finally, out of resources, Alex was surrounded.
"Unless you want to fall through the bridge when the lava eats through, put your hands up."
Alex reluctantly complied and as the man walked forward, the lava before him cooled and hardened. After cuffing the boy at the wrist, he grabbed Alex by the arm before yanking the youth from the bridge and back onto the once cobblestoned path—its present state was in the rippling wrinkles of a black tar-like mass.
Carl, the other man and subordinate, waited for them off to the side, his skin a raw ugly red. He'd escaped his glass prison through skill alone. Transferring the concentration of electricity with his titus throughout his body, he managed to maintain a durable shield before breaking through the molten substance.
"I got him, Carl, so there's no need to—"
The shorter man didn't hear his superior and stepping forward, wrapped his meaty hands around Alex's throat. Lifting the boy, the man sent a jolt of electricity through him.
Arching back with a gasp of anguish, suspended in the air Alex’s hands dropped from his neck as his body went limp. His senses on edge from his previous shocking; his heartbeat soared as the organ pumped at an abnormal rate. His beach blonde hair already puffy and spiky stood on end. He could feel everything, from the pressure on his neck cutting off his air, to the blood coursing through his veins; it was agony, a pain worse than death.
"Carl!" The lead guard shouted.
The pressure lasted only a moment and released, Alex fell to his knees, then his face.
Chapter 24
In Custody
Aaron rounding a hall entered the blue wing, an area dedicated to the various offices of Corpus personnel. Aaron had fond memories of the hall, specifically the office at the end of it. Opening the glass door labeled: Chairman Goethe, Aaron walked into his grandfather's domain.
"Grandpa, you called?"
Mr. Goethe, gray haired with stubble for a beard and deep green eyes, looked up from the stack of papers residing on the wide maple wood desk. "Aaron,” he greeted his grandson warmly. "Yes, yes, come in, come in. My favorite grandchild is always welcome."
Aaron sat in one of the two chairs near the desk, and glanced at the documents.
"Eighth rod...what?" He said looking up as his grandfather slipped the file into an envelope.
"It's simply a request, business, you know the sort from the government, but...that's not why I called you in here. More to the point, how are you Aaron?"
"Good. So what type of rod is it?"
"I've heard you're doing well in class."
"Yeah. Is it one of those types that split in half? Where was it found?"
"Sierra is your opponent in the tournament, right? Ah, sibling rivalry is so entertaining."
"We're cousins."
"Close enough."
"But the rod—"
Mr. Goethe gave his grandson a withering look.
"When someone avoids the question, it is for a reason. The rods are not your priority, they are mine."
"Then why am I here?"
"A good question,” Mr. Goethe answered and reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a small silver pocket watch by its long golden chain. "It's the family heirloom, passed down through the generations since before our family immigrated here way back when. And now, as my grandfather did to me, I pass it onto you."
He gently lowered it into Aaron's outstretched hands. The door opened and a man stepped into the office, his eyes on the clipboard in front of him. "Everything's in order sir, the rod is stored in the basement vault and is prepared for shipment..." Looking up and noticing Aaron, he trailed off.
~*~*~*~
When Alex came to, he found himself lying on the sole bed in a small room. Dimly lit and devoid of windows, the area held a ventilation shaft, drafting damp air, and a bolted metal door for the entrance.
The brig, an underground series of identical rooms set aside for the defiant, the rule-breakers and the intolerable—nonconformists. Propagandized as for the lowest of the low, the scum of the school, in reality the brig hosted all manners of students. From the black-mailed nerd to the set-up wimp, more than half the freshmen would find themselves in the basement by the year's end. Almost all of them would land within its walls at least once during their undergraduate career and less than five percent would stay clear of its graffitied walls.
Sitting up with a groan, Alex put a hand to his head and nursed his aching skull. The guard hadn't held back. He had received treatment from the infirmary after the conflict for a couple of days. Before being transferred to in-school suspension after he'd healed well enough to walk.
"So they kick my ass only to patch it back up again?" Alex said, thinking aloud.
The door swung open revealing a young man taller than Alex by a few inches with curly black hair and deep brown eyes. "So you're awake already? Well good,” the stranger said stepping in. "Welcome to the brig, punk. I'm Ian, your watch-dog; nice to meet you, Alex."
"How do you know my name?"
"I work here, you're down here; do I still need to elaborate?"
Alex shook his head.
"Good, moving on. Your sentence is three days for resisting a patrol and evading curfew. Now, I'm supposed to recite some formal stuff but...I don't feel like it. You're not going to be here long, so I'm not wasting my breath."
"Three days?"
Ian pulled out a piece of gum and shrugged. "Tier ones always get off light and you’re an eleven so…"
"That's not what I meant."
Ian raised an eyebrow. "Huh? So what did you—"
"This is just a school. So why can't I leave? Why am I even in here? You can't lock me up in this place—"
"You're in Corpus Academy, a contracted military high school,” Ian said simply as if that explained everything. He finally un-wrapped the gum. "What did you expect?"
"What does that even mean?"
"It means," Ian began chewing the flavored rubber, "no one goes in or out without permission. Corpus may be one of the only schools that does that but rules are rules. The only reason you and the other eleven are allowed to roam free is because this is practically a military compound with state of the art security. Though because of your stunt, that may change.”
“What are you saying, I’ll be guarded? That’s ridiculous—”
“Yeah. Well, anyway, the special core is a totally different branch within—"
"Special what?"
Ian rolled his eyes. "What are you an oddity?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, that's right, I forgot you were one of those people. The titus special core is...what I call an
unofficial branch of the military because, well, we have a hand in...a lot of stuff, from science and weapons to combat and supplies. As for schools, there are three or so top tier titus academies throughout the country at the high school level, Corpus, Vertvile, and Linsteg.
"Combat and supplies?" Alex laughed incredulously. "What are you guys battle-mages or something?"
Ian just gave him a look before heading to the door. "Pick yourself up, oddity, you've got class." Stopping he glanced over his shoulder. "It's your first and only reason for leaving the brig."
"What type of in-school-suspension is this?"
"A unique one,” Ian replied, returning with a backpack.
They'd switched his bag, Alex noted, unzipping it to find only school supplies. Closing it back, Alex swung it on and followed Ian up the flight of stairs to the ground level.
Chapter 25
Humiliation
Walking in, for a moment Alex believed this day mirrored its predecessors as average. Mrs. Quill stood at the front of the class, a tablet in her hands as she took roll. The students were already sitting, engrossed in various conversations.
At the table furthest from the front row, stuck smack dab in the right corner, sat Melissa and the rest. Daniel looking up from his phone, caught sight of Alex.
"Hey Alex!" He called waving his friend over from across the room.
Daniel...why? Alex thought. If his friend had just kept his mouth shut, then there might've been a chance for Alex to have passed under the class microscope unseen. The room went dead silent as all eyes, including Mrs. Quill's piercing crimson and Melissa's narrowed violet, fell upon him. All—with the exception of Katelyn, who put in her earphones and turned up the volume as she scrolled her phone’s playlist.
With his watchdog, Ian, trailing after him, there was nowhere to hide. Eyes trained on the ground, Alex continued his walk of shame undeterred, bearing the class's scrutiny, ears burning. He wished, not for the first time, that he had a fraction of Melissa's egotistical confidence, Daniel's natural charisma or even Katelyn's give-a-shit attitude.
Then perhaps he'd be able to walk up the steps head high, eyes meeting and staring down those around him. Or maybe even face them with a smile and a joke to clear the air. Or follow Katelyn's example during her own in-school-suspension and just bulldoze through them all, phone in hand, earphones blasting, and middle finger held high. But, he was Alex, and involuntarily caring what others thought of him, he strained to decipher his classmates’ loud whispers as they looked on avidly.
"—fought a patrol."
"—oddity loser."
"Past curfew, that's new."
"Isn't he going out with...?"
"—had a backpack and everything—"
"That guy and Melissa? No..."
"—waste more time, waste more—"
"—and so she was all like—"
Alex frowned.
What is with these conversations? Alex thought. If they’re not talking about me then why are their eyes still following me? What lemmings.
"Shut up already!" Melissa said to no one in particular.
The class looked at her, and she smiled. Having their attention, she whacked Daniel with her tablet. Katelyn, pulling out her headphones, fixed Melissa with a murderous look, as she caught her brother.
"What was that for?" Daniel whimpered.
Melissa ignored both of them, her fiery gaze meeting those of her classmates. "Keep talking and you're next."
"Like you have enough to throw at all of us,” a kid pointed out.
"I can control gravity."
"No shit, we all can,” Katelyn said.
"Ms. Bellheart,” Mrs. Quill said closing the case over the tablet.
Melissa sat down reluctantly as the bell rang. The teacher's red gaze then fell upon Alex. "Mr. Mulholland, you're not in your seat, you're late."
In the middle of an aisle, Alex turned. "Huh?"
The class fell silent once more, eager for drama.
"In any case, sit there,” Mrs. Quill said pointing to a desk specially situated next to hers.
Like hell he'd accept that spot. He didn't remember Melissa and Katelyn having to go through this. Glancing back at them, Katelyn holding her earphones shrugged at Melissa and as if anticipating the inaudible question shook her head.
Up in front of the class for three hours?
It was a nightmare. No, more than that, for dreams could be woken from.
"So the rumors are true,” a girl two rows in from the back whispered. "Melissa and the oddity—"
Melissa flicked her wrist and the girl's tablet hit her between the eyes. The class' attention shifted to their crying classmate in stunned silence. Melissa had given her a nosebleed.
"Bullseye,” Katelyn said holding out her hand, her eyes on her phone. Melissa slapped it in a not so high-five.
"Alex!" Mrs. Quill snapped. "I thought I was clear—don't you dare keep walking."
Ian caught Alex by the arm. "Stop digging your grave."
"Your seat, Mulholland, take it now."
"No thank you,” he said after a long pause. Yanking his arm back, Alex sat down next to Melissa.
"Dude..." a guy said to his friend. "The oddity’s actually—"
Like the girl before him a tablet, hit him flat in the face. Standing he whirled around and put his hands together. Slowly separating them, he created a small ball of fire which flickered within their middle. Widening the distance, the ball grew and grinning the boy fired it from his palms in the direction of Melissa.
While Alex and the class froze at a standstill Daniel clapped his hands together and stood so fast his chair fell back. Cupping his hands over the plant necklace at his chest, he willed tendrils of roots to sprout from it. They entwined themselves over the other rapidly a moment before the fireball crossed the room. The roots meeting the burning air enclosed around it, snapping closed in a twisting mesh like the numerous teeth of a jaw. Compressing the flames, smoke rolled out from the roots as they made their retreat back as a necklace.
"Whew, that was dangerous,” Daniel said comically, wiping his sweat-less brow. His expression was unreadable and eyes deadly serious bore into the culprit, and stared him down. Once the kid sat down, Daniel turned his concern to the rest of the class. "No injuries, right?"
"Austin!" Mrs. Quill sputtered. "No, all of you! Get out of my classroom!"
"All right,” Daniel said, pulling on his backpack.
"With pleasure,” Melissa said.
Swinging her bag over a shoulder, she slipped a folded piece of paper into one of Alex’s hands and stood. Glancing down at her hand she shot a disgusted look at his back before she whipped the sweat from his palm on her jeans.
"See you everyone,” Daniel said, waving to his classmates as he walked through—a few of them waved back impulsively. "I hope no one's hair was singed too badly."
Austin, the student who'd cast the fireball, also made his exit.
"Alex, get up here and sit down. I will have order in this classroom, so help me god!" Mrs. Quill continued as Melissa walked out.
Alex, ignored her. Ian, having followed his charge, looked on from the wall he leaned on.
"Did you not hear me?" Mrs. Quill demanded making her way to the back of the class.
"It's about to go down..." Someone foreshadowed from the other side of the room.
Ian pushed himself off the wall as Mrs. Quill neared, then leaned again after she gave him a gesture that obviously said: I'll handle it.
Alex swallowed as Mrs. Quill, pulled up by his desk and looked down at him. He would get through this, he vowed. Stealthily, silently, like a cat. He just had to lie low, let this blow over and somehow escape his current role as the class spectacle.
For what seemed like an hour, the silence stretched on. The tension, at its highest, involved both teacher and student in the power struggle of a wordless conversation. Their thoughts, however, were active. While Alex fretted over his banished allies, Mrs. Quill debate
d on how to deal with this unyielding student.
Had she not put the full power of her new red contacts upon this child? Were they not red enough? Or had red lost its evil touch and gone out of style under her nose? She would have to look it up later. These contacts were bothering her anyway; it was time for a new color.
Alex putting his hands together under the desk, broke first. "Do you need something?"
Mrs. Quill was taken aback. "Excuse me?"
"Excuse you. Don't you have a class to teach?"
"Didn't I tell you to take a seat?"
"I am sitting."
"Why aren't you at the front of the class?"
"Why aren't you in hell?"
"Excuse me?"
"How generic, you already said that,” Alex said standing up. Putting his hands together he brushed a hand over the edge of the table and reduced a layer to grains. Feeling more confident, he sent the dust into her face. She stepped back with a gasp of pain as they entered her eyes. Stifling a scream as rubbing them worsened the irritation she removed the contacts altogether. Recovering, she reached out and slammed Alex's head into the desk, wrenching his arm back with her other hand.
Alex's vision blurred from the black of his eyelids to the classroom and its image, fuzzy, was dotted with stars. Mrs. Quill, yanking him from the chair, proceeded to drag him to the front of the classroom. There she dropped him, indicating he should take his seat. Alex to the class' amusement, sat in a daze.
Mrs. Quill slammed and locked the door with her blood red titus, then closed the blinds of the hallway windows before turning to the class. "The distractions have been taken care of,” she announced. "Turn your tablets on and turn your textbooks to page forty-four. Good, it looks like most of you already have. Okay, today..."
Chapter 26
Jail Break
That afternoon Alex, lying on the twin bed in the underground room, reflected on his actions. Or at least, that's what Ian advised. In reality, he did his utmost to ignore the homework, boring a hole in his backpack from across the room.
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