Cragbridge Hall, Volume 2: The Avatar Battle (19 page)

A robot whirled out in front of them and a thin hand extended. Again a near scream.

“Whoa there, Bolts,” Carol said. “We’re okay. We’re un-re-stric-ted.” She said every syllable with pride.

“Just stick out your hand, Carol,” Abby instructed, holding out her own. After a quick scan, the robot reversed out of their way.

“Well, it worked,” Abby said.

“So awesome. If there wasn’t someone creeping around in the dark, I’d suggest we use our all-access pass to find the kitchen and see if there are any leftover eclairs—ooh, or those brownies from yesterday. But I secretly think the lunch crew eats the leftovers.”

“Carol, focus.” Abby let the door scan her and opened it wide.

“Like you haven’t noticed that no one in the cafeteria is a beanpole.”

In a few moments they were in the dark schoolhouse, hoping to figure out who else was sneaking in in the middle of the night.

“This feels like an awesome spy movie,” Carol whispered. “But so rarely is it two girls, and if it is, usually they’re wearing dresses that are too tight and don’t have enough material. Yeah, like you could do much spying in high heels and a formal dress. But it’s just . . .”

Abby shushed again. Two moments of silence in one night was apparently just too much to ask.

They crept along the wall, making it to the next intersection of halls just in time to see someone turn the corner. “There.” Abby pointed down the hall.

“This is so incredible,” Carol whispered. “I bet this is where we confront them. I may even have to use a little karate.” She mimicked a few movements. “I don’t really know karate officially, but I played a girl who did taekwondo in a commercial. Some people said that I looked like a natural. Well, my mom said that, but I’m sure other people were thinking it.”

Whoever it was they were following was going down to the engineering hall. Were they checking on Mrs. Trinhouse? Did they know she had a key? Was she in her room, working late? Should Abby send her a warning? No. She would wait and make sure.

Abby felt a hand on her shoulder. This time the scream nearly burst from her lips.

“Derick?” Carol said much louder than a whisper. “Rafa?”

“We heard there was some excitement,” Derick said quietly.

“Yep,” Carol answered. “And with you two here it just got a lot more exciting.”

Rafa laughed.

“I hope you weren’t trying to sneak up on whoever it is just yet,” Derick said. “Because I could hear Carol all the way down the hall.”

Abby looked at Carol, who shrugged.

“Maybe it was just your heart sensing that I was getting close,” Carol suggested.

“I’m not sure about Derick’s heart,” Rafa said, “but my ears heard you talking about taekwondo.”

Carol waved him off.

“This way.” Abby gestured down the hall.

The four students quietly scrambled in the direction Abby pointed until they turned a corner and saw two silhouettes in the dim light. Then the taller of the two turned down one hall, and the shorter down another.

“Let’s split into two groups and follow them,” Carol whispered, and grabbed Derick’s arm.

“Good idea.” Derick didn’t flinch. “Rafa and I will take the taller one. Message us if you run into any trouble.” He slipped out of Carol’s arm and he and Rafa scampered forward.

Abby swallowed her laugh. It was a nice change of pace from holding in her screams.

“That’s
not
what I meant,” Carol whispered, disappointed.

Abby shushed her, and the two girls ran along the hallway close to the lockers.

So much for calling in the boys as backup. The girls were on their own. Abby couldn’t help but wonder if she should be doing this. Was she walking into a trap? Abby drafted a quick message to her grandpa. Though she didn’t send it, she wanted to have something ready. Her heart beat faster. She couldn’t help but think about the images of the figure who had broken into Dr. Mackleprank’s place—and Ms. Entrese on the floor. Abby and Carol passed through the commons, watching the mysterious figure walking along the side of the wall in front of them. He quickly leaned as far up against a wall as he could. Carol and Abby did the same, not knowing if he would look back at them. A second later, a robot passed in the adjoining hall.

After a few moments, the figure moved quietly again, but with a purpose. He climbed a staircase to the second floor. He waited at the top; Abby and Carol were frozen at the bottom of the stairs. After hearing footsteps and then hearing them fade—probably from a human security guard—the figure moved again. Abby and Carol followed him several more yards before the silhouette jogged up another staircase—the stairs up to the Watchman, the tower at the center of the main building on campus.

Both Abby and Carol knew those stairs were sealed off at the top. Though there may have been access to the inside of the tower years ago, there wasn’t anymore.

Gazing up around the steps, Abby could see the figure reach up and press something. A few short seconds later, he disappeared into the ceiling. There had to be some sort of trapdoor, but there hadn’t been one before.

Why was someone sneaking into the Watchman? It would be a fantastic lookout. You could see most of the campus from there. But it was the middle of the night. What would they be able to see in the dark?

“Should we follow him up there?” Carol asked.

“No. If he has blowdarts, he’ll get us for sure. Let’s wait here.”

They waited for a long time. It felt like a short eternity before feet appeared again and the figure dropped down into view. He was shaking his head, but he was coming back their way.

Abby looked at Carol, wondering what they should do. Should they run? No. If the figure had blowdarts he could simply shoot them as they ran. Their only hope was to slink as far into the shadows as they could and pray they weren’t noticed. Abby hoped Carol followed her example. The only movement she dared was to double-check to make sure her message to Grandpa was at the ready.

The closer the figure got, the faster Abby’s heart beat. But also, the closer he got, the more Abby could discover about the person. He was definitely an adult or an older student. Since he was out and about after curfew, he was most likely an adult. And not a he—definitely a
she
. It had been too dark to notice before.

Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me. Please, Carol, don’t say anything.

That short hair. That walk. That silhouette. All at once it came together—Abby recognized her. But what was
she
doing crawling into the Watchman in the middle of the night?

20

Interrogation

Derick and Rafa followed quickly and quietly. The figure was on the move. There were so many twists and turns, Derick decided whoever he and Rafa were tailing was taking the long way in case anyone was following. Eventually he ducked into a classroom, only closing the door partially behind him. He probably didn’t want to risk the sound of the door latching shut.

Derick and Rafa crept closer. Rafa went first, but Derick was only a step behind. They were inches away from the door when it flew open. The figure grabbed Rafa and threw him inside. A second later, Derick felt himself lifted off the floor and then flying toward a row of desks. Umphhh! He slammed down hard on top of one of them.

Derick caught his breath and turned to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun. It had slid out from underneath the figure’s sleeve and was aligned with his pointer finger. In fact, there was a matching barrel on his other hand pointed at Rafa.

Derick’s breath felt thick, like it was in no hurry to escape his throat, for it might be his last.

“Oh, it’s you two,” a deep voice said. Derick looked up into Mr. Trinhouse’s face. “And here I thought I might be stopping that awful sneak.”

Derick tried to get a few more breaths. Rafa began, “We saw you moving through the halls at night and thought you were up to something.”

He smiled. “Well, you need to be careful. I have decent reflexes. I’m glad I didn’t shoot you both.” The smile faded away. “Unless I should. You aren’t behind this all somehow, are you?” He pressed the gun barrel further in Derick’s face. “You aren’t rebelling against your own grandfather, are you?”

Derick shook his head wildly.

“And you aren’t in on it?” He stepped toward Rafa.

Rafa shook his head as well, though Derick thought he looked a lot cooler under pressure than Derick had just been. Rafa had beat him again.

But what if it was Mr. Trinhouse that was up to something? He seemed convincing, very convincing, but wouldn’t that be the way a traitor would play it?

Mr. Trinhouse eyed them both carefully. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. “All right, you’re coming with me.” Mr. Trinhouse kept both guns on each of them, but then let his eyes dart to a spot on the wall quick enough for him to tap it. A section of tile in the floor rose, revealing a way into the basement below, another entrance down to the original Bridge. The question was why Mr. Trinhouse was going there. “In,” he said, motioning toward Rafa. “Stop once you hit ground.” Rafa looked at Derick then did as he was told. Derick followed.

They wandered until they arrived at a turn Derick thought looked familiar, but didn’t completely recognize. Two other figures waited in the dimly lit corridor. Derick hoped they weren’t accomplices.

“Sorry I’m late,” Mr. Trinhouse said. “I had a couple of kids following me.”

“Derick? Rafa?” Grandpa’s voice called out loud and clear. He looked at Mr. Trinhouse. “Put your guns away.”

“I won’t apologize for it. They were following me and I don’t know who we can trust,” Mr. Trinhouse said.

Grandpa and Coach Horne stood together. Derick exhaled with relief and quickly told his and Rafa’s part of the story.

“I know Rafa’s not a part of the Council,” Mr. Trinhouse said, “but I also knew I couldn’t explain what I was about to do, nor could I simply walk away. He would suspect me of crimes I was
not
committing.”

“It was probably wise to bring him,” Grandpa said. “Well, Derick and Rafa, because of your vigilance, you get to be in on our interrogation this evening.”

Interrogation?

“I asked these two men to assist me. We are bringing the prisoners up to the English class so they can sit in the Chair and we can find out what they know. We couldn’t bring them up during the day, so this is our appointed hour.”

“And Mr. Trinhouse and his wife are going to sit in the Chair too,” Coach Horne added.

Mr. Trinhouse nodded. “She will meet us there.”

Soon, they had hauled the prisoners up through the secret passageways, blindfolded so they couldn’t memorize the route they’d been brought by. Grandpa approached the two robot guards standing sentry outside the English classroom. After the sentries scanned the prisoners, they opened the door and Coach Horne put the first man in the Chair. Grandpa asked Mr. Trinhouse to wait for his wife to arrive outside the room with the two guards. Grandpa then messaged Coach Horne, Derick, and Rafa and invited them to sync to a certain audio line. Derick didn’t know why, but he synced anyway.

“You know Charles Muns,” Grandpa began, addressing the first man in the Chair. Immediately the image of Muns formed on the screen behind him. “Why did you go back in time?”

“I won’t tell you,” the man said, but the image of Muns on the screen changed, his clothes slightly different, obviously a different day. He spoke, though Derick only heard it through the audio line he had synced up to. Genius. If the man was blindfolded and the audio from the Chair was patching in somewhere else, he wouldn’t know the significance of where he was sitting.

The memory of Muns on the screen spoke. “If you do this for me, I will take you back in time to the championship.”

In a flash, Muns disappeared and Derick saw a younger version of the man playing football. He took a snap from the center and stepped back, scanning the field for an open receiver. His blockers started to give way, and the man raced to one side to avoid the attacking defense. Derick could only imagine what being tackled by one of those giants would feel like. His bones hurt just thinking about it. The quarterback dodged to one side, causing a defender to miss, and then danced away from another. He was good. Then his arm reeled back and launched the football in an arcing spiral.

It flew through the air fast and directly toward a wide receiver only feet from the end zone. But a defender leapt in front of him, reaching up with one arm. His fingers tipped the ball, knocking it off course. It tumbled high in the air. Both the receiver and defender dove, but the defender caught it. Interception. Derick watched as the quarterback took off his helmet and threw it to the ground, the clock running out of time behind him.

Another image appeared, the same man telling his mother that he hadn’t gotten the scholarship he’d hoped for. Then refusing to go to college. Then working odd jobs. Then drinking.

It ruined him. One mistake ruined him.

No. That wasn’t right. So he didn’t get the scholarships—he could have still gone on to college. Even if he didn’t have the money, he could have applied for loans. Maybe he could have tried out for the college team. He didn’t have to shortchange his dream. He
chose
to. Unfortunately Muns had convinced him that his one mistake meant everything.