Five: Out of the Dark (19 page)

I stopped in the doorway to his office.

“Sasha, come in and have a seat,” he gestured to the chair he had positioned directly in front of his desk—and conspicuously out of arms’ reach from his new computer monitor.
Hmm. So much for getting off his radar.

I sat. I focused my eyes on the top of his desk. He was silent for a very uncomfortable amount of time, so I looked up, intending to bypass his eyes and look at the spot of skin between his eyebrows. He apparently anticipated that, because he expertly moved his head just enough that I found myself staring, transfixed, into his emotionless eyes. A feeling of intense coldness started on top of my head and flooded over me, quickly reaching my toes. I shivered. I knew I needed to shift my gaze from his, I just couldn’t remember why or how. Vertigo threatened to take over my senses. I was
falling
into … his … eyes.

The peculiar words Mr. Grewa had spoken to me two days before suddenly popped into my mind
. Remember when the storm rages around you and the waves are crashing down on you, find
something
to hold onto.

Johnathan’s face appeared in my mind, blocking the powerful effects of Mr. Jorgenson’s
soul-gaze
. I was able to pull away then. I blinked and kept my eyes shut for a few seconds, fighting the shudder that threatened to expose my fear. When I once again opened my eyes, I was determined not to show him how scared I was. I looked him in the eyes. Not the smartest thing to do, but like I’ve said before, I hate bullies. I couldn’t let him win. Besides, I figured I knew how to break his
gaze
now anyway. So, with a vision of Johnathan planted firmly in my mind, I looked Mr. Jorgenson in the eye—for a second. Or less. Maybe. I shifted my gaze to his forehead and was a little bit satisfied that the skin there had turned an angry shade of red.

“Miss Spurlock.”

I waited for him to continue, which he didn’t. “Uhh … yes, Mr. Jorgenson?” I really did try to keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice.

I must have been unsuccessful, however, because his hands curled into tight fists atop his desk before they disappeared under it.

“I wanted to see if you remembered anything else Ashley might have said to you the other day. She hasn’t been back to school and I’m worried about her. Also, I want to assure you that you are safe here. The events you witnessed on your first day here must have been more than a little disconcerting for you.”

It was obvious to me he was making this up as he went along. He hadn’t thought of a Plan B in case the
soul-gaze
didn’t work. I felt a small sense of pride prickling my chest. He’d underestimated me. The sense dissipated as I realized that made me an even bigger target—and also put Seth, my
brother
, in the danger zone.

I decided to try my hand at damage control. Which meant I had to act weak, and I hated acting weak. “It was very scary, Mr. Jorgenson. I haven’t slept well the last two nights. Every time I close my eyes I see Ashley freaking out and the blood dripping from her hands.”
It would be perfect
if I could muster up a tear or two
.

I couldn’t.

“Yes, well, I can only imagine. Would you like to talk with a counselor? I can set that up for today if you want.”

“No, sir. I think I’ll be okay. I’ll let you know if I change my mind, though.”

He repositioned himself in his chair. I was sure he’d noticed my failure to respond to his first question, but he couldn’t seem to figure out how to get back to it while he was acting as the concerned principal.

I took advantage of his lack of planning ahead. “I would like to get back to class, Mr. Jorgenson, if there isn’t anything else, that is.”

Jorgenson made one last attempt to lock me in a
soul-gaze
. I pictured Johnathan firmly in my mind and boldly looked him in the eye. So much for acting the intimidated young girl. A half-formed smile froze on his lips when he realized his
gaze
wasn’t working. His composure cracked.

“What the …
how
are you doing that?”

I batted my eyelashes—the picture of innocence. “Doing what, Mr. Jorgenson?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Nothing. Go back to class, Miss Spurlock.”

I rose from the chair and turned toward the door to the office. Before I could reach it, he added, “I will be watching you very closely, Sasha.
Very
closely.”

The chill that ran down my spine was insuppressible. I just kept walking though. The bell to change classes rang just as I reached Mrs. C.’s room. Brendon came rushing out and almost smashed into me. His relief at seeing me was evident as he released a held breath.

“Sasha, what did the old creep want?”

I shrugged. “Apparently he’s worried about my well-being after the incident the other day. He offered me counseling.”

Brendon shook his head. “Well, I’m glad I caught you before your next class. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay … talk away.”

“Okay. Did Seth say anything to you about the party tonight after the game?”

“Yes, he mentioned it,” I said.

“Well, don’t let him go. Those parties are bad news. I’m not sure what goes on there, but people don’t come back from them the same way they were before. Why don’t you guys come to my family’s diner after the game? I’ll score you some free food—maybe even a shake.”

“That sounds great. I’ll have to run it by our parents, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thanks, Brendon.” I smiled and waved as we headed to our separate classes.

Of course, we
had
to go to the party, but he didn’t need to know that. Maybe we could stop by the diner first. A shake sounded awfully good; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one.

r. Grewa’s class was awesome. He loved history and it showed in his teaching. Even the zombie-kids seemed to pay more attention in his class.

He excused the class as soon as the bell rang, but stopped me before I went out the door. “How are you doing, Sasha? Any more trips to the principal’s office?” No tiptoeing around his concerns, and it was obvious he was concerned. I really loved his straightforwardness.

“Actually, yeah, I was called there during first hour today.”

He didn’t even try to hide his alarm. He lowered his head to search my eyes.

“Mr. Grewa, I’m fine, really. I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

“Yes, yes, I can see that.” He nodded and furrowed his brow in confusion.

I decided to see if I could get some information out of him. I instinctually trusted him. Not enough to spill my guts completely, but enough to let him see I wasn’t exactly just another high school student. “Mr. Grewa, what did you expect to see when you looked in my eyes just now? What were you afraid Mr. Jorgenson had done to me?”

The gentle teacher raised his index finger in the universal
Wait just a minute
sign and stepped over to close the door.

“Sasha, I don’t know what’s going on at this school and I don’t want to scare you, but every other student that’s been called into his office after having shown any amount of backbone during one of the odd occurrences that have happened here lately, has come out of there a changed person.
Every
other student.”

“What do you mean,
changed
?”

“They either act like their brains have been scrambled somehow, or they become a member of his entourage … or, more accurately, his lackeys. Or, they just disappear …” He looked up at the clock. “You should get going to your next class, but we should definitely talk when there is a little more time. Be safe, Sasha.”

He ushered me out of his classroom with a strange, hopeful look on his face. I was thinking—distracted—or I might have noticed the three rather large boys closing in on me as I hurried down the hall. Before I knew what was happening, one of them had knocked my books out of my hand and the other two crowded me up against a row of lockers.

The biggest of the three grabbed my face with one of his giant hands and forced me to look up at him. “We got our eyes on you,
Miss Spurlock
. Mind your own business or you’ll be sorry, real sorry.” Disgusting spittle flew from his puffy lips, reminding me of a Troll.

“But,
we’ll
enjoy it, won’t we, Bubba. We’ll enjoy it
real
good,” said the zit-faced boy pressing up against me.

“Shut up, idiot! I’m the only one who talks,” said Bubba Big Lips. Zitface cringed a little. The other boy snickered.

I’d had more than enough at this point. I knew I couldn’t just zap them right there in the hallway. It wouldn’t be smart to show my hand this early in the game. So instead of magic, I employed some of the Ninja Turtle moves Halli had been teaching us. Did I mention Halli was an incredible martial arts expert? She doesn’t remember how she learned it or even what discipline exactly she was trained in, but she was good,
real
good, as Zitface would say, grammar be damned. She was like a mini Jackie Chan. Except female. And not Chinese.

They stood so close to me that I wasn’t able to use my arms. I needed to clear some space. I stomped on Snicker’s instep with bone-crunching force, which caused him to back away with a yelp. I raised my arms and slammed them down hard and fast on Big Lips’ forearms to break the grip he had on my face. He wasn’t expecting that. An elbow to Zitface’s nose and a knee to Big Lips’ groin was enough to allow me the space to escape. I glanced back as I walked away and was satisfied to see blood dripping from Zitface’s hands as he held them to his nose; a somewhat green-skinned Big Lips doubled over, clutching his groin; and Snicker hopping around on one foot.

It had turned out to be a very eventful day indeed. I couldn’t wait until lunch to compare notes with Seth. I refused to look over my shoulder to see if they were following me. If they wanted to continue the fight,
bring it on
, I thought. I was in the mood for a good throwdown. I figured those three must be some of the lackeys Mr. Grewa had mentioned. It sure hadn’t taken long for Mr. Jorgenson to sic them on me.

I slipped into my next class just as the final bell rang.

I saw Snicker in the hall on my way to lunch. I noted, much to my satisfaction, that he was still limping. I smiled my sweetest serves-you-right-smile at him and continued to the lunchroom. I was glad to see that Seth was sitting at the same table as Alec and Johnathan. Seth and Alec now knew each other from football, so it didn’t give anything away if we all sat together.

I sat down and Seth said, “
Now
can I tell you guys?”

“Tell us what?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Johnathan said. “But hurry up. Looks like Brendon’s headed this way.”

“Okay. These three punks cornered me in the locker room after gym class and started asking questions about ‘my sister.’” He looked at me.

“Wait,” I said. “What did these punks look like?”

“They were big, but not as big as Johnathan—except one that was fatter, with big lips.” He described the three thugs that had pushed me up against the locker.

“Was one of them limping?” I asked with a small measure of smugness.

“Yeah, and one of them looked like he was getting two black eyes—wait, how did you know one was limping?”