Spring-Heeled Jack (12 page)

A hidden folder, Atticus thought.
Hidden within a broken compartment that he most likely had no need
to fix. Atticus carefully picked up the folder, making sure not to
so much as scuff the corners.

He laid it down and on the
cover it said “
10/1/3/11
: I & E.” Atticus had no
idea what it meant, but it had to be code for something.
10/1/3/11
: I &
E.

Atticus opened the folder and inside
it was filled with what he could only describe as the most cryptic
and professional looking document he could ever imagine. Dozens of
pages outlining something that read like gibberish. The document
was filled with so much jargon and terms that Atticus had never
heard before; he had no way to decipher it. He caught a few names
here and there: Gregor Wolfhowzer, Samael Velepsy, Franklin T.
Forrester, and Annette Laveau. Atticus recognized them as Zebulon
Scientists and Artificers.

However, most striking of all, was the
mention of the Nelsons, specifically Pearl Eliza Nelson. Hers was
the only of her family to be prominently repeated throughout the
document.

As he flipped through the pages,
Atticus saw the symbol of Zebulon up in the corner, the Z
overlapping a Y.

Atticus wanted to keep reading, trying
to figure out what it all meant, but he knew he wouldn’t get
anywhere at the rate he was going. He needed to look it over on his
own time. Against his better judgment, Atticus slipped the document
into his school bag and made his way out of the office.

But, as he was leaving, another
grouchy old teacher, Mrs. Crowe saw him leaving. “Young man,” she
hollered, “what were you doing in that office?”

All of Atticus’ excuses ran through
his head, but they meshed together as one. He faced the professor
with as calm a complexion as he could muster.

“
I-I was just looking for
Professor Varnum,” he said.

Professor Crowe didn’t look to
convinced. “And you couldn’t tell he was gone without going into
his office?”

What would Brock say, Atticus
thought.

“
I thought maybe he would
have left a note for me on his desk.”

The professor gave him a stink eye,
but allowed him on his way, warning him that next time he’d need to
get permission from a fellow professor before entering an office.
Atticus nodded and agreed before going off on his merry way. He
looked up at the clock and saw that it was just about to turn
eight.

He was going to be late to class, but
he didn’t’ care. He had his first piece of evidence. Real and
tangible evidence that he could observe and use, and he wasn’t
going to let this opportunity go to waste.

The rest of the day, Atticus
constantly had his nose pressed in the document. Slowly, he was
able to decode it, bit by bit. There was so much to it that it was
daunting to fully comprehend. Graphs, charts, symbols and several
things Atticus didn’t understand were littered throughout the
document. It was like reading an essay on a subject you knew little
to nothing about. More than anything, Atticus wanted to know why
the Zebulon Corporation was so prominent throughout it all. So many
names of scientists and pivotal locations were scattered throughout
the whole thing.

As the day went on, Atticus went to
his classes like normal. During lectures, he was lost in the
document’s pages. He’d completely space off when teachers were
talking or when he was supposed to be taking notes. He only knew
when class was over when he caught glimpses of other students
getting up out of their seats. Class to class would pass and
eventually it came time for chemistry.

Professor Banner was going on and on
about molecules and compounds, things that were just oh-so
interesting, while Atticus scanned through the pages for the fourth
or fifth time. As the professor was lecturing about the periodic
table, a student aide from the office from the office walked in
holding a note. Banner stopped talking for just a moment as he
snagged the note and quickly skimmed through it.

Atticus didn’t realize what was going
on, but he did notice the professor calling out his
name.

“
Atticus Whaelord,” he
hollered, “Principal Shepard needs to have a word with you after
class.”

He looked up at the professor and then
around to all of his classmates who were giving him all a confused
look. Why would Whaelord need to go to the office, they all
probably thought? What did he do? Atticus was in the same boat. He
didn’t know what he’d done.

Then a terrible thought popped into
his head. What if Varnum realized his folder was missing and
Professor Crowe told him about Atticus dropping by unannounced.
Atticus’ heart sank deep into his stomach.

He knew his face was a blushing red
mess, and he probably looked as guilty as could be. No doubt rumors
would be all around campus by the end of the day. Atticus told
himself that he wouldn’t let it get to him.

Class ended rather abruptly. Professor
Banner was lost in a mindless speech about the differences of
chemical and physical reactions and how useful it can be to know
the difference in a life setting, but he was cut off by the bell.
He quickly wrapped up his lesson for the day and excused the class,
but not before reminding Atticus to stop by the principal’s
office.

When Atticus arrived, all sorts of
worrying thoughts raced through his head. What could he say? What
kind of trouble would he get into? Would he get expelled? Atticus
decided to just roll with it. He’d think of a way out of it.
Perhaps this wasn’t even about the folder. Maybe the principal just
wanted to congratulate him on something. As long as he held his
tongue and didn’t say anything, everything would be
fine.

Atticus knocked on the principal’s
door, peering through the window. She’d gestured for him to come
in. As he made his way into the office, a cool chill fileld the
room. It was eerie. Normally, Principal Shepard had a warm happy
glow about her, but today she seemed stern and serious. It was
rather frightening.

“
Y-You wanted to see me,
ma’am?”

She nodded. “Atticus, you were friends
with Michael Nelson, correct?”

“
Y-Yes,” he said. He was not
expecting that question to come up.

“
And, you don’t think his
death was a suicide, correct?”

“
Ma’am,” he said, “I-I’m
sorry, but what’s this all about?”

“
Please, Mr. Whaelord,” she
said sternly, “answer my question.”

Atticus felt his hands tremble.
“Y-Yes, ma’am. I think that Mike was killed and it was all set up
to look like a suicide.” Atticus closed his eyes, took a few deep
breaths, and regained his composure. “Detective McCloud things so
as well.”

“
Yes,” the principal said,
“the detective.”

Atticus didn’t know what was going on,
but he bit his tongue. His inner detective told him to ask
questions, but he didn’t want to risk it. This was not the time nor
the place. Principal Shepard called him in for a reason. He didn’t
need to be asking any suspicious questions.

“
Atticus, I understand you
plan on studying criminal justice after your time here at Fortuna
Prep, but I must say that you need to stay out of criminal
affairs.”

“
W-What?”

“
I know you want to help,
but at times like this it’s best to stay focused on your studies.”
Principal Shepard steepled her fingers and rested her chin on the
point. “You have all the time in the world to become the detective
you want to be, but for now I want you to stay out of
this.”

“
P-Principal?”

Behind her glasses, Shepard closed her
eyes and sighed. “Atticus, please don’t argue. Promise me that you
will no longer tamper with this.”

Atticus bit his tongue. He couldn’t
just stop, not after finding Varnum’s folder. He didn’t want to do
it, and he knew that there was only one thing he could do: he
lied.

“
I promise, Principal
Shepard. I will not get involved with this case any
further.”

Just like that, the tension lifted
from the room. Principal Shepard seemed to relax in her chair,
almost like Atticus had just answered the million-dollar question
correctly.

“
Thank you, Atticus,” she
said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk losing another
student.”

“
W-What do you mean,
principal?”

Shepard shook her head and said,
“Nothing, Mr. Whaelord. Don’t worry about it. Now go resume with
classes for the day. I’ll have a note sent to your next class
explaining why you were tardy.”

Atticus thanked her, but deep down he
felt awful. He wasn’t going to lvie up to his promise. He couldn’t.
He couldn’t back out, but the look of relief on the principal’s
face looked almost as if she’d been in a similar position before.
He made his way out of the office, his school bag with the stolen
document held firmly under his arm.

When Atticus arrived at Professor
Varnum’s class, he was mortified to see that class had been
canceled for the day. A note was posted on the door,
reading:

Professor Varnum’s History
Class

Canceled for the day due
to:

Instructor’s
Health.

Classes will resume as
scheduled next week.

His stomach began to churn
and Atticus feared that what he saw in his dream wasn’t a dream at
all, but some sort of premonition. He looked down at his hand where
the
Queen of Spades
would normally appear and pondered the idea that perhaps it
granted him abilities in his sleep.

Perhaps, Atticus thought, he had the
ability to project himself in his dreams and spy on others. That
could explain why it was visible when he woke up.

He quickly shook that thought out of
his head. He’d been reading too many fantasy books and it was
starting to mess with his thinking. Still thought, it couldn’t be a
coincidence that Atticus would dream about the professor getting
injured, only for it to come true and force him to miss
class.

But Atticus wasn’t foolish. He wasn’t
going to be upset over a two-day break from Varnum’s class. He
began to make his way down the hall when he remembered he was
supposed to meet Camila after class. But, if there was no class,
where would he find her?

He began to pace around the English
and History building, looking high and low for Camila. It seemed
impossible, but the school wasn’t that big. He’d find her
eventually.

As he was wandering around, Atticus
felt a strange feeling in his gut. It felt like he was being yanked
down a specific path. He didn’t notice it at first, but it became
very prominent. Atticus felt like a rat moving through a maze
looking for its cheese. He just knew where to go, but he didn’t
know why or how.

Atticus spotted Camila and some of her
friends outside near the campus fountain. He couldn’t help but
notice that she always had a group around, but she herself never
really talked. At breakfast, the girls were all giggling and
talking, but she was content sitting idly by and
listening.

As he walked over to them, some of the
girls pointed and laughed at him. Instantly, Atticus feared that
his zipper was down or that there was something on his face. Blood
began to rush to his cheeks and Camila ran up to meet
him.

“
D-Do I have something funny
on me,” he asked.

Camila smiled and said, “No, you’re
fine. They just think we’re a bit silly together.”

“
Together?”

Camila blushed. She guided Atticus
away from her friends and quickly changed the subject. “So, what do
you think happened to Professor Varnum?”

An image of Varnum getting attacked by
the Ghost flashed into Atticus’ head. It made him queasy, and he
heard the scream, but he did his best to shake it off.

“
Maybe he ate some bad
fish?”

Camila laughed. “Or maybe his wicked
old heart finally gave out?”

Atticus wanted to laugh, but he
couldn’t. Everybody loved to joke about Varnum’s heart being as
black as coal, but at the time it felt so wrong.

Camila saw that something was worrying
Atticus and said, “Hey, I’m sure he’s okay. Like you said, he
probably just ate something.”

“
Yeah, yeah I’m sure that’s
all.” Atticus realized he was acting very strange. He took a deep
breath and said, “So, since we don’t have class, you ready for the
movie?”

“
Oh heavens no,” Camila
said. “I’m still in school clothes. How about we meet back here in
thirty minutes?”

“
Thirty minutes? Sounds good
to me!”

Back in his dorm, Atticus was
hectically trying to pick out something nice to wear. Brock watched
him, refusing to give any sort of advice except to wear what he was
comfortable. That didn’t make Atticus feel any better.

“
Just calm down for a
minute,” Brock said. “What’s something comfy that you like to
wear?”