James Patterson - Two Schools Out - Forever

"Can't tell. There's a lot of stuff here. Too much to read right now. Let's show these to Max. I can stuff them under my shirt."

"Cool. We better be heading back."

"Yep."

Iggy followed Gazzy to the stairs. Let's see, almost lunchtime. Wonder where Tess will sit today-Then Gazzy paused for a second, and Iggy almost ran into him.

"That's funny," Gazzy muttered. "There's a door here I never noticed."

Iggy heard him step forward and open it. Dank, cool air wafted out at them.

"What is it?"

"A tunnel," said the Gasman, sounding taken aback. "A long, dark tunnel going farther than I can see. Right under the school."

I was kind of dreading seeing Sam again at school. Would he blow me off? Had he told anyone about us kissing? Would I get teased and therefore have to kick serious butt?

It was fine. I saw him in class, and he gave me a discreet and yet special smile. No one seemed to be watching him or me to see us interact as gossip fodder. During free period, we sat at a table across from each other and talked and read and studied, and not even the headhunter came down on us.

It was cool. For almost that whole day, I felt like life didn't totally suck. And that lasted all the way till I got back to Anne's, so we might be talking new record here.

"A tunnel?" I looked at Gazzy and Iggy in confusion. "Why would there be a tunnel under the school?"

"Excellent question," the Gasman said, nodding. "Plus the secret files."

I flipped through the files again. "Nudge? Do a check on the school. Didn't I see something that said it had been there for, like, twenty years?"

"All the brochures said that," Fang confirmed. "Plus there's a plaque in the front hall that says Founded in 1985."

Nudge got onto the laptop we'd more or less appropriated from Anne. I kept flipping through the files, which were all about patients who had entered the sanitarium and never come out. The files were dated mostly from the last fifteen years or so, until just two years ago. In other people's lives, ending up at a school that used to be a mental hospital and had a tunnel under it would be very interesting but coincidental.

In our lives, it was like a great big red warning light blinking on and off.

"Huh," said Nudge. "The school's Web site says it's been in that building since 1985. But when I Google it, nothing shows up before two years ago."

"Did they change the name?" Iggy asked.

Fang shook his head. "Don't think so-it doesn't say that anywhere."

I double-checked the mystery files. "The Standish Home had the exact same address. And look at this office stationery-it has a little drawing of the building." I showed it to the others. It was a drawing of our school, exactly.

I looked up at the flock. "This can't be good," I said, with my natural gift for understatement.

"Should we ask Anne about it?" Iggy asked.

Fang and I met eyes. He gave the tiniest shake of his head.

"What for?" I said. "Either she knows about it and is in on everything, so we don't want to tip her off that we know, or she only knows what they told her and so can't help us."

We were quiet for a few moments, each of us thinking. I heard the TV click on in the kitchen. Anne took out pots and opened the fridge. The news was on, talking about an upcoming cold snap and who had won a recent college football game. Then a male newscaster said, "And in our nation's capital today, the president made a surprising announcement that has many politicos scratching their heads. Only three days before this year's budget was supposed to be presented, President Danning announced a stunning revision: He has taken back almost a billion dollars allotted to the military and is channeling it into public education, as well as nationwide shelters for homeless women and children."

I froze.

Fang and I exchanged looks of disbelief, then I looked at Angel. She was grinning. I heard Total laugh, and then Angel and Total slapped high fives. Well, Total slapped a high four.

I dropped my head and rubbed my temples, which had suddenly started pounding. We had to get out of this town. Next Angel would be making the president ban homework or something.

That night, at exactly 11:05, six windows on the second floor of Anne's house opened. One by one we jumped out of our respective rooms, fell about eight feet, then snapped our wings open and got some uplift.

The six of us flew through the dark, chilly night. There were no clouds, and the moon shone so brightly that the trees below us cast long shadows.

The bat cave looked satisfyingly like something from a horror movie. Fang had discovered it weeks ago. It was set into an old limestone ridge a couple miles from the house. Overgrown vines, dead with approaching winter, obscured the entrance. We flew through them, trying not to get tangled, and braked to a fast stop inside. The cave was full of stalactites hanging down like teeth from the ceiling, and somewhere in the darkness there was an ominous drip of unseen water. About thirty feet in, the air became thick with the acidic smell of guano, so we stayed near the opening.

"I bet no people have ever been in here," said Gazzy, sitting cross-legged in the entrance. "They'd have to rock climb just to get up here."

"I wish we could see what's farther back," said Nudge.

"Yeah, me too," said Iggy brightly.

"Okay, guys," I said. "Listen, I've been thinking, and I really think it's time for us to move on. This has been a great break, but we're all rested, healed up, and we should disappear again."

This announcement was not met with confetti and noisemakers.

"I mean," I went on in the deafening silence, "Ari knows we're close by. He attacked us on our way home from school-he probably has cameras trained on Anne's house. The headhunter has it in for us. Now the weird files from the school, the mystery tunnel-it's all adding up to an ugly picture." Not to mention what Angel might be doing to the leader of the free world. I shot her a hard glance, in case she was listening in on my thoughts, and she grinned at me.

"We should clear out of here before all this stuff starts hitting the fan."

I saw Nudge and Gazzy glance at each other. Angel leaned her head against Iggy's shoulder. He patted her hair. More silence.

"I mean, maybe this is where we learn to think smart, stay one step ahead of the game instead of having the game bite us in the ass."

Or maybe this is the time you learn how to stay and make it work.

I scowled. This isn't a relationship, Voice. It's a trap, or a test, or at best a surreal side trip on a journey that's already been fairly mind-blowing.

"It's just that...," Nudge began, looking at Gazzy. He gave her an encouraging nod. "Well, Thursday's Thanksgiving. We only have half a day of school Wednesday, and then it's Thanksgiving."

"We've never had a real Thanksgiving dinner before," said Angel. "Anne's going to make turkey and pumpkin pie."

Frustration made me snide, in that endearing way I had. "Yeah, and that's worth staying in town for-Anne's home cooking."

The younger kids looked abashed, and I felt like a jerk, raining on their parade.

"I'm just-really antsy," I explained carefully. "I'm twitchy and nervous and feel like I want to be screaming through the sky on the way out of town, you know?"

"We know," Nudge said apologetically. "It's just-she's going to make sweet potatoes with raisins and little marshmallows on top."

I bit my lip hard in order to keep from saying, "Well, God knows that's worth sacrificing our freedom for! Why didn't you mention it earlier?"

Instead I tried a smile that turned into a grimace, and turned around for a minute, as if I were examining the night sky. Through the vines. When I'd gotten more of a grip, I turned back to them.