The Executioner at the Institute for Contaminated Children (7 page)

I let out an amused sniff, faced forward, and slowly rose to my feet. When I walked passed him up the stairs, his eyes followed me, and I rested my hand on his shoulder as he had before, looking past him.

“Let me guess…for participating in the quiz bowl tournament, you earned points. Extra points if you got away with using your abilities. And even though I interfered, discovering a contaminated person is pretty big game. Far more valuable than answering a few trivia questions. Am I right?” 

My hand lifted. It was firm when it left his shoulder, and shook when retreated to my side. I was right. I had to be. But the small chance that my guess was wrong and I’d completely embarrassed myself petrified me. 

“Now that’s more like it.” Dan propped his head on his hand and gave me an approving grin while the guy next to him looked impressed. Only the girl observed me with distaste.

“What I can’t figure out,” I said, “is how you knew I was contaminated.”

“Pretty easy,” said Dan. “You wore a school uniform, so you couldn’t have been home schooled. And…if you were a nerd, you’d be in the quiz bowl in the first place. Which leaves…contamination.”

My jaw trembled. I couldn’t believe it. He was the reason… No, only part of the reason. Still, he had contributed to why I was torn from my family and brought to this place.

“I told Mr. Vaughn to look you up. Easy 500.”

“Points, I gather,” I said coldly. On the one hand, I could relate to his thirst to win. On the other, I couldn’t see it as a just trade at all. Didn’t he consider how others felt?

“Right on.” He clapped hands with his friend and I grimaced, my fists taut. I wasn’t some game piece! And the part of me that admired his competitiveness only twisted my gut.

“My guess is you’ve already read all the rules,” said the girl. Her eyes blinked unnecessarily, her strawberry blonde hair blow-dried to shrink her face, already reminiscent of a pixie. The other guy had his dark brown hair trimmed short, his muscles slightly bulging through his jacket, more so than Dan’s, which were toned but average. I withheld the urge to roll my eyes. Two jocks and a cheerleader. Just my luck. Although, I didn’t recall seeing them at Marquette.

“Yeah…,” I lied.

“Great. Then we’ll meet you in one hour. Gotta have breakfast. But you probably don’t have enough points for that. Sorry,” said Dan with a grin as he and the other two stood up. What did he mean, points for breakfast? “Billiard room. Be there.” He flicked his index finger at me, only to up my irritation.

My back to them, I lifted a hand to acknowledge the challenge and left the classroom. And ran.

I panted like a warhorse when I finally reached the fourteenth floor, too dizzy to jam the key in right and missing several times before I finally got it to click. “Come on, come on!”

The door burst open and I didn’t bother to lock it, only rushed to my bed and started to skim through the rule book like crazy. This wasn’t a joke. Apparently, points equaled money at LeJeune. If you didn’t have points, you didn’t eat. You couldn’t buy clothes. You couldn’t wash them. And sometimes you didn’t sleep since you’d need to patrol the hallways at night to earn points for breakfast. This...was not what I had in mind. Last time I ate was on the train. Did that mean I couldn’t eat until I got out of the negative point zone? My stomach growled, but I shook it off and read on.

If you earned 5 million points outstanding, your ultimate prize was to choose any occupation the government provided. 3 to 5 million would give you fewer choices. Anything below 3 guaranteed you got placed into a job assigned to you, and you’d be stuck doing it for the rest of your life. The only upside was that points were yours to keep; no one could take them away for any misconduct. You only lost them in exchange for a purchase at the mall. Plus, you got points for following the rules. The more rules you followed, the more points you got. So, technically, just for attending class this morning, I should have already earned a point or two.

Whoever gave this school a theme of justice was completely deluded. Yet as I read it, most of the rules made sense. In fact, if I could memorize them, I might actually win this thing. Except…I was only on page ten.

“Dammit!”

“What’s wrong?” came Eva’s voice. My head shot up. She had just walked through the door.

“Oh, thank God you’re here.” I shoved the book at her. “Brief me!”

“Erm…okay, but I haven’t read the whole thing either.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m desperate. I’m meeting with my squad in less than twenty minutes.”

“Ouch. That does hurt. All right, here’s what I know…”

There was one other thing in my favor, if I could figure it out in time, of course: what abilities Daniel Tyrell’s last name implied.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN—Floater

U
nlike money, points couldn’t be gifted, and likewise couldn’t be taken. My eyes scanned the walls and ceilings as I stepped foot outside our suite, the floor somehow more magnetic than before. Cameras monitored students and those behind the monitors kept track of the points. The only place the cameras weren’t installed, or so the rule book stated, was in the student’s suites. That served as an incentive to get out of our rooms. The more they saw us following the rules, the more points we earned.

Like money, points were a currency. When you earned a hundred points, you could buy a point monitor watch, linked to your point database. It would also serve as a debit card, so to speak. So you could easily purchase more items. One-hundred was the cheapest price in the shops. The food wasn’t as expensive, but it cost at least five points and up per item.

The downside to the downside? You had to save up points if you wanted to graduate. Negative pointers were held back a year, so no one could afford to spend them all.

Eva didn’t have time to tell me more. You only needed a gist of the rules to play the game; you’d learn the rest as you went along. And there were always “spirit guides” to help you along the way.

The billiard room was located on the fifth floor. LeJeune had a total of seventeen. I sped down the steps, careful not to trip and fall. If you did, there’d be nothing to hold on to. It felt like falling into the lake every time you descended, since it was right beside you in the window. I had to get out. Tomorrow, I promised, Eva and I would leave this place and return before sundown.

The billiard room reminded me of a bar, with smoke added for effect. No one was smoking, but when I paid it attention, I noticed the blue lamps spat some kind of vapor into the air. It gave it the feel of a video arcade. 

My thoughts broke at the sight of Dan, who leaned against one of the tables with his arms crossed. He nodded me over and I grimaced. My eyes rolled and I made my way over dragging my feet. I was still a bit mad at him for how he turned me in.

“Here’s your first chance to earn points, compadre,” said Dan.

“My name’s Donna.”

“Whatever. Here’s the deal. We go up against the squad with the most points combined and we get 2% of their points for every ball we score.”

He nodded towards the two who had sat next to him in Lenora’s class, both of which played against each other.

“I thought you were on the same squad as them.”

“Hailie’s my girlfriend, and Todd and I are pretty tight, but she’s in the physical agility squad. Todd’s in the mechanical operatives team.” His thumb pointed into his chest. “You and I are two of a kind. See, I was a Floater before you came around.”

“A Floater?”

His head tilted. “I thought you read the rule book.”

“Uh…must have skimmed it.”

“An independent player.” Ah. Thought so. “Their own boss. Course, now I’m your boss since you’re new. But let’s just think of each other as partners, eh?”

An unsettled feeling came over me. I think I would have preferred a full squad instead. Moreover, if I had to partner with anyone, the last person I’d choose would be Dan. He gave off the same cutthroat vibe as me. Whatever it took to win, excluding cheating but including deception, was a go. And my radar—did I have to say it?—was usually right.

This just added more pressure to the game. I wonder when I started to think of it as a game instead of a school? Probably since the very beginning.

“Um…so…what’s our squad’s strength?”

He smirked. “Masterminds.” He whispered the word and grinned broader. It sounded just like “Game Master.” That gave me a hot feeling, like I swallowed something burning, but it felt good. Suddenly, I felt special. Extraordinary. My fist formed a powerful grip. Together, we could do this. We could win. We could earn five million points each.

Yet still I did not know Dan’s ability or how many points he had. Should I ask him? No, I’d figure it out. It was just another game. Only when my guesses ran out would I pose the question. And I had at least a hundred in me.

“My ability…is guessing,” I told him. Maybe if I placed my trust out there, he’d trust me back. Besides, you always wanted to be on good terms with your allies. Anger them, and you’d only have more enemies. Please them, and your enemies stood no chance.

His eyebrows rose slowly. “You surprise me more and more. This just might work out.”

I released a small smile. Perceptive. Challenge-driven. Tough. All the qualities of a good leader. Or a superhero.

Yet there was one more thing a superhero needed, the one that distinguished a hero from a villain, and I’m not sure if Dan had it. The desire to help others, whether they rewarded you with love or hate. 

He walked up closer to the billiard table where Hailie bent her body backwards and laced her arms around the cue stick to aim upside-down while guys whooped. She kissed the air for Dan and he winked. I gagged. How much smuttier could she get? And was Dan really okay with it? Turned out, it was part of her ability. Her name was Hailie Flex. At least that’s what I heard from the ogling herd. Made sense. If she used her ability to score points, she got awarded an extra point for each score.

“They say billiard is all about geometry. How you angle the cue stick with respect to the arrangement of the balls. But I know better,” said Dan.

“Oh, yeah?” Seemed Dan was into sports, which regrettably made me like him more. Typically jocks only liked the sport they played and made fun of anything else.

“It’s all about probability.”

My eyes gained light as they followed the colored spheres on green velvet. The corner of my mouth curled and I slowly grinned at him. He nodded back. The point monitors better keep up.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN—Reap the Reward

“S
o good!” I muffled as I stuffed a muffin in my already full mouth. A group of dazed faces watched me across the dining table.

“Are you human? Do you have any idea how many points you just spent on food?” said Dan, his face lazy, still watching the pudding I shoveled in my mouth.

Oh, yeah. All of them. But that’s okay, I’d get them back and then some. 

“Ye-ap. Gimme a break, I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and I’ve probably ran up and down three dozen flights of stairs. If I don’t eat, I’ll die.”

“I’m still amazed at how she did it.” Todd scrutinized me like I was some kind of mystical object. “So, come on, spill.”

“There’s nothing
to
spill, T,” said Dan. “She told me which balls to hit, that’s all. And as luck would have it, they all scored.”

“Uh-huh. B to the S, my man. She could tell. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?”

I nodded and swallowed. “It’s my ability.”

Dan shot me a look and I shrugged. He probably expected me to lie so we’d have the advantage, but I didn’t think it necessary. We’d still have the upper hand.

“What’s your last name?” asked another girl I hadn’t been introduced to, though I’m pretty sure I saw her at the quiz bowl. The girl with the dyed white hair shaved off half her head, a stud piercing in her lip.  

“Wright, with a ‘W.’”

“You don’t say,” said Dan, his elbow rested on the table.

“What, you didn’t know?” Todd smacked his shoulder.

“I’m learning.” Dan shrugged and I laughed somewhat. These guys weren’t half bad.

“You were all right, I guess,” said Hailie, still sour that we beat both her and Todd. I beamed.

“Thanks, Hailie!”

She pinched her cheek but then smiled back, surprisingly. “I’m actually kinda glad Dan has a teammate, finally. Kinda.” Her gaze was a mix of poison and genuine gratefulness. I couldn’t pinpoint which one she meant more. Dan tugged her in by the waist and she rolled her eyes with a playful smirk.

“I think we’ll be just fine,” Dan said in her ear, loud enough for us all. “But first we need to think of ways to earn her more points. If she doesn’t have at least a few thousand, she can’t participate in events.”

His breath must have tickled Hailie’s ear since she giggled and pushed him off. Dan didn’t really seem to pay it much attention, like he could play with her and focus on the conversation. It nauseated me when people drew attention to themselves with public displays of affection. Sure, reminders of love were nice, but more like kittens and kids with parents, not couples practically screaming, “Look at us! We’re so comfortable around each other and all you strangers staring at us, ha, ha, ha.” 

“Events?” I mumbled, swallowing orange juice. The glass did well to block my vision while I drank. “What’re those?” 

Hailie gave me a skeptic glance, but not hostile. She likely felt more comfortable now that Dan made it clear they were a thing. “Read much?”

“Okay, no, I didn’t. Can you please fill me in? I promise I’ll catch up.” I raised my hands, prayer-like, and they consented.

“Events are the best way to score mega points,” said Dan. “They’re like tournaments. They have a confined setting, their own set of rules, and usually require some sort of equipment. That’s why you need to get stocked up on points, so you can buy exactly what you’ll need. But you can’t carry too much. It could slow you down. And instead of squads on squads, it’s every person for himself. So you could go up against someone in your own team. In fact, if you do, you get triple the points. It’s pretty epic.”