Storm Forged

by Patrick Dugan

  “Mr. Ward.” Her voice shrill with anger. “What is the meaning of this?” She pointed her finger at me, the blood red nail looking all the more vivid against her dark skin.

  “He tripped,” I said, suddenly wishing I hadn’t. This was going to be painful.

  “Tripped. Tripped!” Her voice went up an octave with the second one. Any higher and the dogs would be the only ones to hear her. “You seriously believe I will buy that he tripped?”

  I really didn’t care what she thought since I’d be expelled and possibly sent to The Block. Maybe I could share a cell with my dad before people like Roberts cheered his death all in the name of ratings.

  Two hands settled on my shoulders from behind, startling me in the process. “Vice Principal Robinson, I saw the whole thing, and Tommy wasn’t a part of it,” a familiar voice said behind me. “Ryder and Clint fought with Chuck, and they got the better of him. All three should be expelled for the week.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Fine.” She stamped a foot to emphasize the word. “I’ll prepare the paperwork for the principal’s signature while you take care of this mess. Good day, Mr. Powell.”

  I watched as she turned and left. Most drill teams would kill to be able to execute that precise of a turn, especially in six-inch red stiletto heels.

  The grip on my shoulders tightened to a point where it became painful. I couldn’t see his face, but his eyes would be filled with hatred. He hated Gifted as it was, but I had made a fool of his pet. The only thing that would make it worse would be to tell him Cyclone Ranger was my dad.

  “Tommy, this isn’t over, not by a long shot.” The edge in his voice sliced the air like a scalpel of controlled fury. “Justice will be served.”

  He pushed me away, so I stumbled. I should have gone to the Air-Lock, but I didn’t. I ran home. My mom was going to kill me, and I didn’t think I would mind if she did.

  I sat alone in the living room as the day drew to a close and the sky darkened. The headlights flashed through the windows when Mom pulled into the driveway. The screen door squeaked its song as it opened. Mom walked in, closed, and locked the door. She tossed her keys and briefcase in the office on her way to the kitchen. She glanced my way and stopped abruptly as she saw me sitting in the darkening room. “Tommy, are you alright, honey?”

  I drew a deep breath and let it out, like Blaze had taught us. It should have helped calm my nerves, but no such luck. “Mom, I need to tell you what happened.”

  She flipped the light switch on and took a seat across from me. “Go ahead.”

  After another try at calming myself, I let it all out. The words were jumbled, events half explained as my mind crashed through the events of the day. As I finished, I could tell she was worried.

  “Well?” I asked hesitantly.

  She rubbed her chin. “You are okay? Brunner didn’t hurt you?”

  “No, I’m fine,” I lied.

  She didn’t say anything for a while. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt. I really need to think about things. I’m going to go lay down for a bit. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.”

  I don’t know how long I sat there thinking about what I could have done different or how this would play out. Mom didn’t emerge from her room, so I went in to bed. Sleep was a long time coming.

  16

  As Mom drove me to school, the silence stretched between us. She was worried at the ramifications of hitting Brunner, but I couldn’t stand by and watch Brunner continually humiliate and hurt people I cared about. He had it coming for a long time, but I doubt Mom fully understood considering how much of Brunner’s bullying I’d hidden.

  The car pulled off into the parking lot for the Redemption post office. School was a mile down the street; this must be serious.

  “Look, Mom…” I couldn’t tell what she how she felt, but I guessed not happy summed it up. “I am really sorry about yesterday. I…”

  She started to cry. Not big waterworks, more of a slow leak. “Tommy, I knew one day you would have to fight back.”

  “What?”

  She tried to smile, but it came off as a sickly, weak attempt. “You are too much like your dad.” Her voice barely audible over the car engine. “He never could let anyone be hurt, always standing up for the underdog. He would be very proud of you.”

  I stood dumbfounded. I thought she would cut into me for fighting, not this. “You were the one who always told me we protect the people who can’t protect themselves.”

  She nodded as she put her hand on my cheek, caressing it softly like she would do when I was a kid. It actually made me feel better. I hoped no one from school saw.

  “You have to listen to me. Today is critical for you.” She locked her eyes on to mine so I would really hear her, ashamed she had to force me to listen. “You keep your head down. Do not challenge Brunner. If he starts a fight, let him win.”

  “First, you tell me how proud Dad would be. Then you tell me to let Brunner kick the crap out of me?”

  The tears continued to well in the corner of her eyes. “A few bruises and your hurt pride is a small price to pay. I am going to Great Falls today, and Brunner will be gone by the end of the week, but you can’t be a threat or Powell will have you sent to The Block.”

  The Block. The name crashed over me like a tidal wave of ice water. I nodded. All of this was my fault. I should have gotten a teacher instead of confronting Brunner. I should have run when he cornered me, took a few punches to soothe his ego. What a mess I had made of things.

  “I’ll be back by eight tonight. We can talk more then. Promise me.”

  I felt like the world’s biggest ass having put her through this. I needed to do better so she didn’t have to worry. “I promise.” I realized I truly meant it.

  She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  “Just because I agree with you doesn’t mean you get to be all kissy.” Fake indignation was strong in my voice.

  She laughed. “My big boy. Too big for Mom’s kisses?”

  She pulled out of the post office and a couple minutes later dropped me off at the school with a quick “love you” and off she went. I turned to face the torment waiting in the halls of Redemption High.

  I assumed the best hang dog expression I could muster and shuffled into the building with all the other car riders. I cringed as I expected for Brunner’s booming voice to call me out. I headed to my locker by way of the cafeteria. He hung out there with his crew most days, but he wasn’t there. I got to my locker and to my first class without so much as anyone pushing me or calling me a Slag. I could get used to this.

  The morning sped by. I kept my head hung and out of trouble. Powell’s history class would be the true test. I slunk in, sliding quietly into my seat. Powell stood by his desk, more prison guard than history teacher. He glared at me while I sat head bowed dreading the impending bell.

  I felt the pounding of his boots approach my desk. Lewis C. Powell, Officer of the Reclaimer’s Army, would wear fatigues to school if they allowed him to. That didn’t stop him from wearing his combat boots instead of normal shoes the rest of the teachers wore.

  “Mr. Ward.” I’d heard friendlier snarls from a wolverine. “I wanted to inform you Mr. Brunner, Mr. Whit, and Mr. Hempt are all on suspension for a week after yesterday’s incident.”

  I glanced around. This is Redemption High, and this is Mr. Powell. Maybe I hit my head a lot harder than I thought the other day. In the school’s history, a Norm had never been suspended for messing with a Gifted. Marcel checked it out once during detention to win an argument. We didn’t rate protection, short of being permanently damaged.

  “Um, I’m sorry about that, sir,” I mumbled a bit more than I would have due the sheer enormity of the statement.

  “Why?”

  “Err, I know they are your favorite students, sir.” Okay, enough with the “sir” crap already. This guy is as bad, if not worse, than Brunner, and I was bo
wing and scraping like some peasant. See, I did listen to Powell’s lectures sometimes.

  “Nonsense.” His voice reverberated around the room in true drill sergeant style. The kids turned in their seats to see what was going on since he normally belittled me or encouraged the class to do it for him. “Those boys were flat out wrong. Their behavior is not suited for the school grounds.”

  I suspected an impending aneurysm or psychotic breakdown. I now knew how Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit hole. Powell had stood over me many times while Brunner worked me over and never said a thing. Something was seriously wrong.

  He nodded and returned to his desk to start class. Abby and Marcel had arrived during the exchange. They both looked as baffled as I did.

  “What was that all about?” Marcel whispered from behind me.

  “Brunner has been suspended for the fight I told you about at lunch.” I kept my voice low.

  “Something is going on,” Abby whispered as she leaned down to tie her shoe, which didn’t need tying.

  “I know.” I wondered if it had something to do with why Mom had gone to Great Falls this morning. Maybe she would put an end to the Brunner situation once and for all. I leaned back, pondering what a Brunner-free life would be like.

  The day ended as Marcel, Abby, and I headed to the Air-Lock. An amazing day with no Brunner and everyone leaving me alone. I couldn’t wait to see Wendi and tell her what had happened. I entered through the massive double-layered door that gave the Air-Lock its name. We went over to where we normally sat. A Sudoku puzzle sat before Waxenby, brow furrowed in concentration, as people drifted in.

  Wendi and Jon hadn’t shown up, which was odd since they had the closest lockers. The final bell rang, clubs and activities for Norms and the Air-Lock for the Gifted. The door boomed shut announcing detention had officially begun. Something was wrong. The guard outside didn’t seal the doors until we were all accounted for. I had seen Wendi before homeroom.

  I approached Waxenby’s desk. He glanced up from the puzzle, a smear of graphite across his nose where he’d been rubbing it. “Mr. Waxenby, Wendi isn’t here, but the guard sealed the door.”

  “Wendi?” He rubbed his chin while he thought, leaving a matching smear across his chin. He shuffled some papers on the desk. “Oh, here it is. Mr. Powell signed her and Jon out for a disciplinary board hearing.”

  I panicked a bit. “Why? Are they in trouble?” I tried and failed to keep my voice level. I concentrated on keeping my wits. Pissing off Waxenby wasn’t going to help.

  “No, Tommy,” he said reassuringly. “The disciplinary board was convened to discuss Mr. Brunner’s behavioral issues. Miss Stephens was asked to testify, and her brother escorted her is all.”

  “Really?” I said before I could stop myself. The words tumbled out of my mouth like clowns from a car. “Mr. W., there has never been a teacher who would stop Brunner or anyone else from beating on any of us. Why now?”

  “Tommy, I honestly don’t know, but I am optimistic this will be a good thing for us. It has been fifteen years since the attack. Maybe things are changing for the better.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I have to Tommy, otherwise why bother?” His gaze dropped back to his puzzle, and I returned to my seat.

  Why bother indeed.

  The door hissed as it opened. We emerged into a beautiful fall day that made the Montana winters feel so much worse. The Norms all screamed and ran around, not a care in the world. The Gifted kids stood silently in a line as the guards loaded them into The Institute’s buses. It never failed to drive home how different we were treated. If I ran across the bus lot, I’d be dropped by a stun stick.

  We passed the edge of the school. I heard “Hey, Tommy” from the bushes. Marcel and Abby stopped as I walked over. Two hands grabbed and dragged me in.

  Jon’s face was bloody and swollen from what must have been a major fight. Most of the Norms at school stayed away from him due to his size, unlike me.

  “Jon, what the hell happened?”

  He slammed me into the side of the school. My head banged against the red bricks, dazing me for a moment. I figured my future held a lot of mental impairment from all the concussions.

  Marcel and Abby made their entrance stage left and late. Abby shoved Jon away from me. Not for the first time did I think not to piss Abby off. She stood an inch shorter than Jon, and I’d guess as strong, if not stronger.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” She kept her voice down so the teachers herding the kids to the bus didn’t overhear us and come to investigate.

  “I told her to stay away from you,” Jon said. You could start a fire with the heat coming off him he was so mad. “I told her you’d get her hurt.”

  “What are you talking about?” Abby stepped between the two of us. I pitied Jon if he swung on Abby. She would have no problem with knocking him on his ass.

  Jon slumped to the ground, drawing his knees to his chest. He was in pretty bad shape. Marcel sat next to him.

  “Jon, you have to tell us what happened,” Marcel said in a calm voice. How he did it, I’ll never know. The sharp pain from the bouncing off the wall subsided to a low thrum.

  “Powell told us there was a disciplinary meeting over Brunner attacking Wendi. He told me to come along.” He stopped and gathered himself. “We went to the teacher’s parking lot to meet him, and Brunner and his guys jumped us and pushed us into Brunner’s truck.”

  Oh my God. Brunner wasn’t about to leave Wendi alone. Brunner was a sadistic prick, and I knew he’d hurt Wendi to make me pay. I wasn’t about to let that happen.

  “They told me they would kill her if I didn’t bring you with me. They beat me up to prove they meant it, then they pitched me and took Wendi.”

  My brain began to boil with rage. This had gone too far. I couldn’t let him hurt Wendi. Mom would have to understand.

  “Jon, where did they take her?”

  “They are at the fishing camp over on the Milk River. They said if you didn’t come tonight, they would kill her and dump her.”

  I steadied myself. “I’m going to go get her.”

  “Not without us.” Abby cracked her knuckles, ready for the fight. Marcel looked like he would wet himself, but he held firm.

  “You don’t go anywhere without me,” Jon said. “She’s my sister, and I owe Brunner some payback.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  17

  Our first order of business was to sneak away from the building. The four of us hiding behind the bushes were bound to be noticed sooner or later. Abby helped Jon up so we could move away from the bus lot. We stood at the bottom of the loading dock. It wasn’t great, but since it sloped downward, it got us out of view for the moment.

  Marcel, always good with thinking on his feet, spoofed Powell’s phone and emailed the guard station he would be returning Abby and Marcel to the dorm directly. Otherwise, when they noticed them missing from the bus, the guards would sound the escape alarm. That would buy us some time. Plus, it would implicate Powell if something happened to them.

  “Okay, so now what?” I said. The blank looks on my friends’ faces told me we were all in the same boat.

  Jon’s words were a bit muffled by his swollen mouth. “You got her into this, Ward. We have to get Wendi back before he hurts her.”

  “We do, and I will get her back.” I tried to keep my anger under control. Mom had warned me about this, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. “How we get all the way out there is the problem.”

  “How do we get where?” A voice came from behind us making us all jump. Waxenby stood at the top of the loading ramp, arms folded and waiting on an answer.

  “We want to go see the new Blade Runner this weekend,” Marcel said quickly, filling the void in the conversation. “Tommy’s mom won’t take us, so we were figuring out how to get there.”

  Waxenby nodded as he approached us. “So, let me guess. You beat the tar out of Mr. Ste
vens here so you could have the ambulance take you to the theater?”

  “So you aren’t going to buy he fell from the loading dock, and we’d come to help him up?” I hoped he would take the hint and go away.

  “No, I will take the truth, unless you would rather discuss it with the principal.”

  I glanced around; shrugs and nods answered me. So I told him. He listened, his eyes getting wider as the story unfolded. I told him about Brunner, how we thought they’d been involved with Mr. Taylor’s death, and the kidnapping of Wendi.

  “We have to get the police,” he stated as he turned to go. I held his arm, drawing a stern look, but he didn’t say anything.

  “We can’t,” I said rushing on before he could interrupt. “Powell is the Protectorate representative in Redemption, and he protects Brunner.”

  I understood, now, idiot that I am, the suspension had just been to get Brunner out of school so he could get even with me out of the public eye. “Who do you think the police will believe? Us or him? They won’t even listen to you because of the collar.”

  He stood stone still for a few moments, digesting the information. Waxenby had been an adult when collared, but he knew how things worked.

  “Alright, we go get in my car, and we’ll drive to the camp,” he said, patting his sweater vest like it was combat armor. Thankfully the Protectorate hadn’t stopped adult Gifted from driving. “We get Wendi, and then we come back.”

  “You have to let me do this alone.” I held up my hand when he started to object. “If all Brunner wants is to kick my ass, then he will, and I’ll bring Jon and Wendi out, but if you go with me, they won’t and this will continue.”

  He nodded his agreement, a “boys will be boys” look on his face. Once Brunner was the top dog again, Wendi should be safe from him. At least I hoped so.

  Waxenby took the lead, marching across the parking lot and out of sight of the bus guards. We climbed into his lime green Ford Fiesta. Well, mostly green, except for the gray patches from his last “accident.” Gifted cars tended to be easy targets for Norms who were cowards. Teaching didn’t pay well, and a Gifted teacher made even less. It was better than walking the twenty miles to where Brunner waited for us, but not by much.