Fallout (Lois Lane) (9 page)

When I heard the principal’s office door shut with a click, I turned to confirm the members of the Warheads were inside, and went back the way I’d come. Hearing what he said to them would be useful. It might help answer my remaining questions.

I pressed my ear to the door, like I did at night before my chats with SmallvilleGuy. All I could hear was the non-dulcet tones of a voice talking. Droning on and on. It was Butler, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

I wanted to.

So I fished out my phone, scrolled to the recording app, pressed it on, and locked the screen to prevent a stray sound from giving me away. I plugged in the earbuds, keeping the ends tight in one hand, then bent and pressed the phone under the bottom of the door. The gap was plenty big enough, the carpet muffling its slide into position.

Have your private consult, principal, so long as I can listen
.

I stayed there, my leg muscles shrieking bloody murder at being forced to hold the crouch. After minutes that felt like hours passed, the doorknob started to turn . . . but stopped at a harsh order, which must have been Butler telling them to hold up. I yanked on the earbuds, pulling the phone back out and into my hand.

And I bolted up the hall and out to the front. I paused in the front office and said to Ronda, “I hope you spit in his coffee.”

From the way Ronda looked at me, shocked before she gave a pink smile, I figured Principal Butler was lucky if that was all that his assistant did to his morning cuppa these days.

Good for you.

I left, inspired by her example. I’d already cut one class. Why not another later this afternoon?

If Butler wouldn’t tell me where the jerk squad went and what Project Hydra was, well, then I had no choice but to find out on my own.

CHAPTER 11

Maddy and I were keeping Anavi company during lunch
in the back corner of exile again. Though we weren’t doing that great a job of it.

Anavi wasn’t behaving normally, even for harassed values of normalcy. She had only spoken to us when we pressed her, spaced out otherwise, and so we’d settled into an awkward silence.

“You’re making me nervous with that,” Maddy said.

And I realized I was drumming my fingers on the table in the staccato rhythm of impatience. “Oops. Sorry.”

With effort, I stopped drumming and fidgeting. I was practically dead from how much I wanted lunch to end so that I could listen to the recording and make my next move toward uncovering the dirty secrets of Hydra.

But distraction came in the form of a semi-surprise, when Devin walked up and pulled out a chair to join us.

Maddy found this even more notable than I did. “Are you sure this is where you want to sit, or will you lose cool points?” she asked him.

Devin settled back into the seat across from Anavi. “Last time I checked, it was a free cafeteria.”

He must usually hang with a more exclusive lunch crowd, which made it a nice gesture on his part. I couldn’t help wondering if his non-
Scoop
friends knew about his giant castle and gaming kingdom.

I remembered the banner with his silhouette on it and decided probably not. It might mean that he was on his way to trusting me too, since he hadn’t hidden it from me. And not only that, but he’d set up the game to send me there and given elf Lo an alliance.

He directed his next words to me. “You’re not in detention, so I take it Butler let you off with some kind of warning?”

“An infuriating one.” I could almost see the secret realm ruler in Devin peeking through in his manner, as if he was comfortable anywhere.

Devin accepted my answer, and started rattling away about the game. I got the distinct impression it was to give Anavi something to focus on. Not that it seemed to be working.

Her eyes flicked over to Devin, and then back to the table. She was distracted, like she had been during the entirety of lunch. Not shaking her head and wincing, but not herself either.

I considered asking Devin and Maddy whether they thought James would rat us out, but I held off. He was sitting with Maddy’s sister again, and there was no need to remind her that she was pining for a boy who liked her identical twin. I’d confront James about his close ties with the loathsome Principal Butler later.

Loathsome? Anavi’s vocabulary might be wearing off on me.

I checked to see what Maddy’s T-shirt was today, having forgotten to look earlier. It was for another band, called Pink Hippopotamus.

Hadn’t Maddy brought up hippos the other day and asked Anavi to spell the word, saying she could never remember how?

Maddy noticed me staring.

“I’ve never heard of them,” I said. “What kind of music?”

“They’re good,” Maddy mumbled.

Anavi still hadn’t tuned in to anything we were saying, and Devin stopped his game talk to pay attention to us.

Maddy seemed uncomfortable, so I changed topics. “Devin, why an elf?” I asked as he took a drink of soda. “And is that get-up what elves usually wear in the game? The bare feet seem like a really bad idea in a warzone. Not to mention the short skirt.”

By all appearances, soda went up Devin’s nose as he snorted. He continued to sputter while Maddy cracked up. I couldn’t help doing the same.

Anavi shook her head back and forth, barely noticing.

Maddy got her giggles under control enough to speak and leaned forward, putting both hands on the cafeteria table like she needed the support. “Devin. Seriously. You made
Lois
an
elf
?”

When I looked questioningly at her, Maddy said, “He mentioned he lent you James’s holoset last night.” At whatever my expression showed, she added, “I didn’t tell James.”

“I knew she wouldn’t,” Devin said, composed again. “I was only being stealthy when I took it from his desk in case he came back before we were done. There wasn’t time to explain to Maddy what was going on then.”

I thought of the longing Maddy directed James’s way. If Devin really hadn’t spotted that, he made for a less-than-perceptive king.

It was also a reminder that they all knew each other way better than they knew me.

But Maddy and Devin were here, backing me up and pitching in with the battle on Anavi’s behalf against the Warheads. They were becoming my friends too.

I hoped they couldn’t see this sappy reaction reflected on my face, or they’d think I was a hopeless cause. I didn’t want to scare them away.

“No,”
Anavi said, with force.
“No.”

That broke the moment, along with any lightness in the conversation. I exchanged glances with Devin and Maddy. Anavi still didn’t seem tuned into our channel: reality, cafeteria, the here and now.

“Hippopotamus?” I tried.

Still nothing.

Maddy reached out and touched Anavi’s shoulder. “Anavi?”

Anavi blinked. Once, twice, three times. “Sorry,” she said, “sorry. Just distracted . . . I keep thinking of that fight in the game. Replaying it different ways. I never kill the big monsters, not unless I have to. I leave them alive . . .”

She trailed off, humming three weirdly tuneless notes before going quiet. We gave her a chance to pick back up, but she didn’t.

Devin seemed to be the most skilled among us at keeping things on an even keel, so I was relieved when he tried to reach her.

“Smart,” he said. “Means you can take whatever loot they have again, once the game reboots them. Finding the tranqs is almost as hard as taking them out anyway. That’s one of the ways I amassed my wealth.”

Maddy bit her lip against a laugh at his phrasing.

“I want to kill it,” Anavi said, and Maddy sobered. We all did. “Isn’t that strange as dysphoria or euphoria for no reason? I
want
to
slaughter
it. I want to prove that I can, to demonstrate my ability . . . ”

The bell rang into the disquiet that Anavi’s comments had created.

I didn’t want to abandon Anavi when she was in such a strange headspace. But I needed to put an end to this. Anavi had been tired earlier, worn thin, but not like this. Not talking about a bloodthirsty urge to murder trolls.

I pulled out my phone and sent a text to a local taxi service.

“I have to go,” I said.

Maddy and Devin exchanged a look with each other, then with me again. No doubt they were surprised I was taking off when Anavi was losing it.

I wanted to tell them why, but I couldn’t. Not yet. And maybe not ever, if I was honest. Not if I really wanted to be friends with them. And I did.

Devin said, “Okay. I’ll stick close to Anavi. Walk her to class.”

Anavi gnawed her lip again, but if she was preoccupied with death and destruction she didn’t share more about it. Devin was a game insider, so maybe he could find an entry point to try to pull her back from wherever she’d gone.

I scanned the cafeteria and found my quarry. The Warheads were already on their feet, the room emptying. Unfortunately, they were also staring directly at the back corner of the room. At Anavi.

That was it.

I headed toward them, dodging the few remaining people in the cafeteria.

The Warheads didn’t act like they noticed me coming their way. And I had no idea what I was going to do to distract them, get their focus off Anavi. Drawing their attention might complicate my plan for the rest of the afternoon, but I had to do
something
—

To my relief, at the last second before they’d
have
to spot me, they turned away from Anavi and went out the doors. There was no sign they’d noticed me.

On one level, that was irritating. But it did make following them that much easier.

Anavi had said they left campus each day, and their schedules and Butler’s telling me it was none of my business and subsequent freak-out indicated it was true. I wanted to know where they went, and so I was going to tail them. This was a road that could only lead to the increasingly sinister Project Hydra.

I stayed a distance behind them in the hall, close to the lockers, intending to whirl and pretend to be opening one if they turned around.

But they didn’t even slow as they went down the emptying hallway and out the far doors. I counted to ten before I pressed open the door, hoping I hadn’t lost them.

I almost had.

A van was parked at the curb, and the driver was putting it into gear. I jogged across the grass in the opposite direction, out to the street. A security guard called, “Hey!” But I sped up, and from the lack of more shouts, he didn’t come after me.

Butler would probably get a report of my hasty departure, but I didn’t care right now. There’d be plenty of time to care later, if he called my parents.

The van was in motion.

I was about to lose them. I
couldn’t
lose them.

Whew
. I caught a break. The taxi service I’d texted had a car waiting at the end of the block, right where I requested. Just far enough from school that they wouldn’t refuse to drive me without permission.

I jerked open the door and slung myself in, brusquely ordering the driver, “Follow that van.”

The van that was pulling far ahead on the street in front of us. If we were going to catch it, we needed to get going . . .

But the driver hesitated, gold chains around his neck and heavy rings clinking as he shifted to get a better look at me. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Look,” I said, “I missed the van and I need to get to the extra credit assignment they’re headed to.”

When he didn’t put the car in drive, the white of the van almost out of sight ahead, I said, “I’m a great tipper. Legendary.”

“Why didn’t you say so? Hold on.”

He meant it literally, since he screeched away from the curb, flooring the gas like we were in a chase sequence. Which we were.

I clutched the grip on the door, but calmed when he caught back up to the van with a few weavings in and out of traffic. We had one advantage: the van’s driver didn’t know anyone was trying to catch it.

“Good work,” I said.

Possibly the only thing that could have made me release my death grip on the door was my desire to hear what was on the recording from Butler’s office.

I pulled out my earbuds and put them in, cued up the recording, keeping my eyes on the van in front of us while it started to play. We were heading into a canyon of skyscrapers, housing what seemed to be tech company upon tech company from the names emblazoned on the buildings. These weren’t the start-ups of someplace like Coast City, but old, well established companies. Big business.

“Just
what
do you think you’re doing?” Butler’s voice said in my ears, with overly loud menace. I thumbed the volume down. “I am
not
happy about your recent activities and the project managers won’t be either. You shouldn’t be drawing so much attention to yourselves. This is supposed to be a simple research partnership to study your team play. You need to knock off the rest of it, now.”

A moment of silence, broken by a chorus of low laughs I was becoming all too familiar with.

“That’s funny . . .”

“. . . it seems to us as long as we keep showing up and doing what’s asked of us . . .”

“. . . then we can do what we want the rest of the time.”

“We’re not always on the company clock.”

“And if sometimes we feel like recruiting . . .”

“. . . they’ll approve.”

The principal made a strangled sort of noise. “Stop that!” he barked, losing his cool. “I can end this experiment now. I was the one who approved the independent study, and I can stop it.”

More whispery laughs in my ears as the van took a turn up ahead. The gold jewelry-bedecked driver glanced back at me and I waved for him to keep following.

“You can’t do anything to us anymore, and we think you know it . . .”

“. . . you made us go . . .”

“But we are not yours, not theirs. We are our own. We are too valuable to stop.”

“Look, just be more discreet,” Butler said. “And leave the girl alone.”

“Which one?” a voice asked, and for once there was no overlapping commentary to go along.

“Both of them,” the principal said.

“Anavi is one of ours . . .”

“. . . so don’t worry about her.”

“No,” I said, “she isn’t.”

“What?” the cabbie asked over his shoulder. “Looks like your school trip’s stopping up ahead.”

There might have been a slight flaw to the story I’d told him. He’d expect me to join them.

“Pull up behind them, but um, leave some space,” I said.

“You’re the boss, legendary tipper.”

On the recording, Principal Butler said, “Wait right there. If what you say is true, then convince her participating is a good deal and do it fast. You need the other girl off your case. Low profile? Keep one.”

That was when I had pulled the phone out from under the door. Static hissed and the voices stopped. I removed my earbuds as the taxi pulled up along the curb of a massive mirrored building, a tall column thrusting into the sky. Bold silver letters across the front proclaimed: Advanced Research Laboratories.

“Vague enough name,” I murmured.

I was familiar with the type, had encountered enough executives of what amounted to Acme Destruction Computer Genome Bioweapons, Incorporated, at chichi receptions over the years. Who knew what this one was into? Besides, apparently, running an experiment with a bunch of jerky gamers. An experiment that had gotten way out of hand.

But I still didn’t know
what
the experiment was. Butler claimed this was intended to be a “simple research project,” but it didn’t strike me that way.

And the Warheads had said he made them go—yet they didn’t seem like victims.

Maybe they were anyway.

I had a whole new round of questions, in other words. Somewhere inside this building, the answers were waiting.

I watched as the Warheads stepped one by one from the van, migrating in creep formation toward the doors. This was the kind of building that would have tight security, the kind I couldn’t easily bluster my way through if I wanted them not to see me.