James Patterson - Two Schools Out - Forever

Anne pulled into the drop-off line.

"Okay, kids," she said. "They're expecting you. All the paperwork is done." She looked back at us, sitting tensely in the rear seats. My stomach hurt from nerves, and I was pulling my wings in so tight that they ached.

"I know it seems scary," she went on gently. "But it'll really be okay. Please just give it a chance. And I'll have a treat waiting for you at home this afternoon. We clear on how you'll get home?"

I nodded, feeling as tight as a coiled spring. How about by way of Bermuda?

"It's about a ten-minute walk," Anne confirmed. "And here we are." She pulled up to the curb, and we piled out of the car. I took a deep breath, looking at the poor lemmings filing in through the big double doors.

"Here we go," lemming Max muttered, then I took Nudge's and Angel's hands as we walked into the school.

"Okay, they're here," Ari said into the mike clipped onto his collar. He refocused his Zeiss binoculars, but the hated mutants were already out of sight, inside the building.

He'd have to switch to the thermal sensor, one of his favorite toys. He pulled the headpiece on and slid the lenses over his eyes. Inside the school was a wash of red: warm human bodies streaming through the halls.

"There," he breathed, as six orangey yellow images emerged from the red river. He grinned. The bird kids ran hotter than humans, hotter than Erasers. They were easy to pick out.

"Wanna see?" Ari pulled off the headpiece and handed it to the person sitting next to him. She put it on, smoothing her hair under its straps.

"Cool," she said. "Did you check out those goofy uniforms? Jeez. I'm not gonna have to wear one, am I?"

"Maybe. How do the freaks seem to you?" Ari asked her, as she continued to watch them.

The girl shrugged, her hair brushing her shoulders. "They don't suspect a thing. Of course, this is just the beginning, really."

Ari grinned, revealing his canines. "The beginning of the end," he said, and she grinned back. They slapped high fives, the sound like a rifle shot in the quiet woods.

"Yep. It's gonna be great," said Max II, and she popped a piece of gum into her mouth. "Now everything gets doubly interesting."

The distinct lack of an antiseptic smell was slightly encouraging, I decided. And the interior of this school looked nothing like the School, our former prison.

"Zephyr, is it?" A tweedy, teachery woman smiled uncertainly at us. She said her name was Ms. Cuelbar.

"Yeah?" said Gazzy. "That's me."

The teacher's smile grew. "Zephyr, you're with me," she said, holding out her hand. "Come along, dear."

I nodded briefly at Gazzy, and he went with the woman. He knew what to do: memorize escape routes, gauge how many people there were, how big they were, how well they'd be likely to fight. If he got the signal, he could burst through a window and be out of here in about four seconds flat.

"At least he's not Captain Terror anymore," I murmured to Fang.

"Yeah, Zephyr's a big improvement," Fang said.

"Nick? And Jeff? I'm Mrs. Cheatham. Welcome to our school. Come with me and I'll show you your classroom," another teacher chirped.

I tapped the back of Iggy's hand twice. Watching him and Fang go down the hall was really hard. Teachers came for Angel and Nudge, and then it was just me, fighting my overwhelming instinct to get out of there.

The teachers seemed okay. They hadn't really looked like possible Erasers-too old, not muscled enough. Erasers hardly ever made it past five, six years old, so when they weren't morphed, they looked like models in their early twenties.

"Max? I'm Ms. Segerdahl. You're in my class."

She looked fairly acceptable. Harmless? Whatever. Probably couldn't conceal many weapons under her skirt and sweater.

I managed a smile, and she smiled back. And our school day had begun.

"Now, does anyone remember this area's name?"

Angel raised her hand. She figured it was time to sound smart.

"Yes, Ariel?"

"It's the Yucatan. Part of Mexico."

"Very good. Do you know anything about the Yucatan?" Ms. Solowski asked.

"It has Cancun, a popular vacation spot," said Angel. "And Mayan ruins. And it's close to Belize. Its ports are some of the closest to America. So it's convenient for drug runners to siphon drugs up from South America, through the ports, and then on into Texas, Louisiana, and Florida."

Her teacher blinked. Her mouth opened and then closed again. "Ah, yes," she said faintly, stepping back to the world map hanging in front of the whiteboard. She cleared her throat. "Let's talk about the Mayan ruins."

"Tiffany."

"Tiffany?" The teacher looked confused. "I thought your name was Krystal."

"Uh-huh. Tiffany-Krystal." Nudge made a hyphen in the air with one finger.

"Okay, Tiffany-Krystal. In language arts we've been working on some cross-media spelling words." The teacher pointed to a list written on the whiteboard at the front of the class. "Those were last week's. This morning I'm going to give a pop quiz about this week's words, just to see where everyone is and where we need to focus."

"Well, all right," said Nudge agreeably. She waved a hand. "Bring it on. But just so you know, I can't spell worth crap."

"Do you know where the dictionary is?"

Fang looked at the girl who had spoken. "What?"

"Our reference materials are over here," the girl said, pointing. "When we have free study time, you can walk around and do homework. If you need to look up stuff, the computers and other references are over here."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

"No problem." The girl swallowed and stepped closer. She was shorter than Max and had long, dark red hair. Her eyes were bright green, and her nose had freckles.

"I'm Lissa," she said. "And you're Nick, right?"

What did she want? He looked at her. "Uh-huh," he said warily.

"I'm glad you're in our class."

"What? Why?"

She stepped still closer, and he could smell the lavender scent of soap. Giving him a flirtatious smile, she said, "Why do you think?"

"Watch this! I'm gonna fly!"

The Gasman looked up with interest. Some spud from his class was balanced precariously on the top of the metal jungle gym, holding out his arms like wings.

I hope he's got more than arms, the Gasman thought. Well, maybe he did have wings. After all, maybe there were more kids like them out in the world. No way to tell. That was one of the mysteries to be solved.

"Yeah?" he said, shielding his eyes from the sun. "Let's see it."

The kid looked a bit taken aback, then set his jaw. He crouched down a bit and jumped off the top of the play structure.

He couldn't fly worth a nickel, hitting the ground almost instantly, landing in an awkward, crumpled heap. There was a stunned silence, and then he started wailing. "My arm!" he sobbed.

Immediately the playground supervisor hurried over, gathered up the kid, and rushed him toward the nurse's office. Gazzy went back to making a nice collection of hefty rocks. Weapons, if he needed them.

"What'd you do that for?" someone asked belligerently.

Gazzy looked up. "What?"

A larger kid was leaning over him angrily. "Listen, spaz, when some wingnut says he's gonna fly off of something, you tell 'im, 'Get the heck down from there!' You don't say, 'Let's see it!' What's the matter with you?"

The Gasman shrugged, but he was actually a little hurt inside. "I didn't know."

The kid stared at him. "What, you grow up under a rock?"

"No," said Gazzy, frowning. "I just didn't know."

The kid made a disgusted face and walked away. Gazzy heard him saying, "Yeah, he didn't know. 'Cause he's from the planet Dumbass."