Psi Another Day (Psi Fighter Academy) (11 page)

“Yeah, the Capster’s awesome. We have an arrangement. I let him know what goes on in the school. Who’s into what. Dr. Captious is sort of a counselor.” Mason pointed to the wall. “See those posters for workshops on Self-Esteem and the Golden Rule and all that? He teaches them.”

“I thought he was a math teacher.”

Mason nodded. “He has two doctorates. The other one is in psychology. He helps kids sort out their lives. I talk to him all the time. Helps me think through problems.”

“What sort of problems could you possibly have, Mason? Your dad’s the mayor. It’s a well-known fact that you can get away with anything. You harass kids, treat teachers like dirt—must be nice.”

“Not really. I don’t see my dad much. He’s always working. And when he’s home, he’s always preoccupied. He’s really into his political career. Not so much into his son.” Mason lowered his eyes. “That’s why I hang out here. At least there’s somebody to talk to. Somebody to eat dinner with.”

If I’d had a Spider Sense, it would have been tingling all over. What normal boy would give somebody like me this type of personal information? Mason was trying to suck me in. I decided to play along to see where he was going with this. “You have dinner here? With who?”

Mason looked at me with the saddest puppy dog eyes. “Whoever.”

Did he mean… “You eat alone? Every night?”

“The food’s good.”

Aww
. His mother was gone, his father ignored him…at least I got to have supper with my family every evening before I went to the Academy. I had Mom and Dad and Susie. I had Kathryn. I even had Andy. Mason didn’t have anybody. Suddenly, no matter how badly I wanted to, I couldn’t hate him.

New tactic. Can the mission. “What’s on the menu? I’m kind of hungry. I mean, if you are.”

Mason’s face lit up like a new sunrise. “I am.”

After we dined on the best pizza I had ever had, I said good night to Mason. I had learned absolutely nothing useful for my mission. I was still certain that Tammy Angel was the criminal I had suspected her to be. But I saw a totally different side of Mason—sweet, caring, and lonely. He didn’t say much during dinner. He just seemed content. Maybe a ruse, but it was also possible that he was not the total creep I thought he was.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t my main connection to Scallion, though.

Chapter Eleven

Dalrymple

Monday morning, the noise in the auditorium rose to such a crescendo I couldn’t hear myself think. We were in lockdown, and the police dogs had been brought in. Last time this happened, everyone knew about it an hour before the dogs arrived. Somebody had tipped the users, and the evidence had been flushed. Probably the same story this time. According to the Kilodan, the dealers had insiders with the police. Which explained why nobody seemed worried. Basically all the students were just thrilled at the chance to get out of regular classes to attend the special assembly. I had been as well, until I saw Mason climb the balcony stairs with the Red Team in tow. He was as cocky as ever. The Mason I had pizza with Friday evening was nowhere to be seen. Which I unfortunately expected.

Over the weekend, after I debriefed Andy about my date with Mason (I use that term in the loosest possible sense, because it was totally
not
a date, it was a critical mission), he had given me maps of the school. Ductwork and hidden corridors that only the Psi Fighters knew about crisscrossed the building like a labyrinth. Most of them were big enough to crawl through. It had never dawned on me before, but a whole other world existed inside the walls and ceilings.

Secret passageways appealed to my overactive curiosity gene. But the dust and gaggle of spiders I’d likely encounter in said secret passageways seriously pegged my yuckometer. All the same, I’d soon be sneaking through them. Surveillance had become my new priority. Friday didn’t turn up anything useful, and I still needed to find out everything I could about Mason: where he hung out, who he was with, what he was up to. Fortunately, this was easy during assembly. He hung out in the balcony, with the Red Team, up to no good.

“Stu-DENTS,” Mrs. Bagley’s voice crackled over the microphone. “Last week, I brought in the police to help improve conditions at your school. Then tragedy struck, and we lost a great man. I believe that few of you realize what this means. I believe that fewer of you care. I pray one day you will understand, because you are all in terrible danger. Today, the Greensburg Police have sent us Police Chief Munificent’s successor. He has a message for you. A message of hope. So without further ado, I give you Police Chief Dalrymple.” She backed away from the microphone, clapping her hands. No one else clapped. So I did. Seeing the old Mason back had left me a tad crabby, and I wasn’t in the mood for rudeness.

Some guy in full dress uniform crossed the stage to the microphone, marching like he was in a military procession. His shoulders and chest were covered in medals and badges, and he shook hands with Mrs. Bagley before facing the podium. He removed his hat, exposing a very high hairline and spiky orange hair.

“Chicken,” Kathryn said, making me smile a little.

“Thank you for the kind applause from the two of you who bothered to welcome me. My name is Maximilian Dalrymple, and I have come to deliver a very important message. But first, a moment of silence.” He placed his hat over his heart, and bowed his head.

After an uncomfortable yet surprisingly silent thirty seconds, he looked up while he put his hat back on. “I’d like to say a few words about Police Chief Amos Munificent. He started a program in this school that I intend to finish. Some of you knew him. He was a kind man, loyal to the city of Greensburg in a way that few men are capable of. There are rumors that he was soft, though, and let things get out of hand in our fair city. I am here, first and foremost, to squelch those rumors. Chief Munificent worked diligently, and did all his capabilities allowed him to do, to stop the drugs and violence we find ourselves forced to endure. If there was any failing, it was not one of effort. Chief Munificent, indeed all of us, find ourselves faced with an enemy who is bigger than any one of us.”

“What is he talking about?” Kathryn whispered.

“No idea,” I lied.

“Give me a Whopper with cheese, Ronald,” Mason shouted, and laughter filled the auditorium.

Yep, back to normal. My irritationometer clicked up a notch. Any points Mason may have gained Friday night had just gone
poof
.

Police Chief Dalrymple smiled and leaned close to the microphone. “Your simple-minded insults only prove my point, Mr. Draudimon,” he said in a deep voice. The auditorium grew silent. “You don’t even know your fast food facts, while I know everything about you, so be on your guard.”

“I like this guy,” I whispered.

“My next words are for the predators in this school,” the chief said quietly. “If you continue on the path you are traveling, you will fall into the trap of drugs, crime, and death. I can’t help you if you choose to be so stupid. However, I will not let you drag even one member of this fine student body down with you. You know who you are. And so, by the way, do I.”

“Dude’s intense,” Kathryn whispered.

“I am here to declare war!” Dalrymple shouted. Feedback from the speakers echoed through the auditorium and we all jumped. “An all-out War on Drugs. And I
will
be taking prisoners. You, the fine students of Greensburg High School, have endured the business long enough. The good people of Greensburg have endured the business long enough. It is time to put an end to the business, and you have my word that I
will
put an end to the business.” Dalrymple threw his hands high in the air as though everyone had given him a standing ovation.

The silence in the auditorium hummed in my ears. Dr. Captious began to clap, smirking while his hands slapped a leisurely rhythm. Dr. Miliron joined him, then everyone in the front rows applauded and cheered.

“To show you just how serious I am,” Dalrymple bellowed into the microphone over the applause, “my agents and I have prepared a little demonstration for you.” He turned to the left side of the stage and shouted, “Bring ’em out!”

A line of kids in handcuffs paraded across the stage. I recognized most of them. Birdie Fort, Andrea Johnson, Kent Gable. All known drug users. All kids who had recently turned nasty. Some lanky girl I’d never seen before. The last boy in the lineup shuffled across the stage with his head down, face hidden against his shoulder. He didn’t look at anyone on stage or in the audience. Must be possession charges. Guess the insider didn’t get the memo. Looked like Art Rubric and Chuckie were tipped off, though.

As the line stopped, Dalrymple turned to them and barked, “I announce my mission to this fine student body. Here and now, in this hour, I am launching my War on Drugs in Greensburg. This student body is under my personal protection. Let all predators know that I will hunt them down. Let all drug dealers know that they cannot hide from Maximilian Dalrymple. I have eyes everywhere. Think of me as your own personal Santa Claus. I see you when you’re sleeping. I know when you’re awake. I know if you’ve been bad or good, so your freedom I will take.”

“Poor guy just took a hard right on Batty Boulevard,” Kathryn said.

“Okay, maybe he’s a little off the deep end, but I like him.” Andy had told me about the new police chief. He’d said he was well-meaning but totally unconcerned with political correctness. “He just wants to send a message.”

“I guess so. Looks like the rumor about the informant is real. Must be how he knew to bring the dogs in. He hit the jackpot.”

“When did this rumor start?” I asked.

“After the last assembly. I told you.”

“Did not.”

“Meant to.”

Dalrymple faced the students in cuffs and drew a circle in the air with his finger. “Turn and show your faces to the students of Greensburg High School. Show them the face of the enemy. Show them what happens when you go up against Maximilian Dalrymple.”

Just like puppets, the line of captives turned and lifted their faces to the auditorium. The boy at the end of the line looked up, and I gasped.

“Bobby,” Kathryn whispered.

Chapter Twelve

The Hall Monitor

“He was set up,” Kathryn said. “And I’m going to find out whodunit. Deputize me. Give me one of your Psi Fighter badges.”

“We don’t have badges.”

“Okay, a mask then. A nasty-looking mask. Something to instill fear in the hearts of the evildoers who set my Bobby up. Maybe a pink one.” Every one of Dalrymple’s captives had been suspended, except Bobby. Mrs. Bagley had argued that he was a model student, and that his locker had been broken into. She forced the police to pull the packet of drugs they had discovered in Bobby’s locker and dust it for prints. They found Kent Gable’s fingerprints, but not Bobby’s.

I did a mental eyebrow raise. “What we need is surveillance. We know that Gable wasn’t the brains behind this. We just have to snoop around a bit to find out who was.”

“Exactly,” Kathryn said. “You can’t use ‘brains’ and ‘Gable’ in the same sentence.” Kathryn and I had skipped out of lunch. We sat in the library huddled behind a closed door at a round table in the small, soundproof study room at the back, hidden by rows of books. I plucked the maps Andy had given me from my backpack.

“Let’s get to work.” I unrolled Andy’s maps on the library table. “Andy says you can hear everything from the ductwork. He installed sensors. They transmit to this.” I held up a small earpiece.

“Looks like the earbud for my iPhone,” Kathryn said.

“Yeah, Andy has a thing for iPhones.”

Kathryn pointed to the block in the center of the diagram. “Looks like the boiler room is the center of the whole school. Exits out all four sides, each into a different hallway. And look, the ventilator system is wide enough to crawl through. Takes you everywhere. Four intake vents, one on each side of the boiler. Looks like that’s your way in. I wonder if it’s strong enough to hold you.”

“Worked on
Mission Impossible
.”

“Did Andy give you cables and harnesses so you could hang from the ceiling to avoid the laser beams?”

“This is high school, Kathryn. There are no laser beams.”

I didn’t tell Kathryn about the mineshaft that wasn’t on the drawing. Andy told me it came up under the school right smack in the middle of a hidden wall in the boiler room. I love Kathryn, but there are some things even she couldn’t know.

Even if I could tell her everything, she couldn’t help me. I was surrounded by jerktarts and drug dealers, and somewhere hidden in their midst, a Walpurgis Knight. All I had to do was find out who he was and what he was looking for—easy solution, if I could storm the battlefield dressed in my mask and armor, scan Mason, and see which of his nasty memories and filth-stained thoughts would lead me to Scallion. But I couldn’t. That was my dilemma.

Mental Arts were completely out of the question; if Scallion were close by like the Kilodan suspected, he would sense me. I couldn’t do kung fu, either: detention, fines, being grounded for fighting in school. I had trained for ten years to develop martial arts skills few others in the world had, and Mental Arts skills most of the world didn’t even realize existed. But at the moment, all I could be was a sneaky kid. Where was the glamour in that?

“Rinnie, look.” Kathryn pointed through the window to the library entrance. Erica and Tish walked in. Erica lumbered around like a zombie. It was heartbreaking to watch. She had made a clean break from the Red Team, and stopped taking their drugs. Or supplements. Whatever. I would look into that later. But right now, her little sister Christie was still missing.

Scallion would know where she was.

“Time to spy,” I said. “Meet me back here at the end of the day.”

I crept from the library and went straight to the boiler room. The halls were empty, so I tried the door. It swung open with a high-pitched squeal. Inside, a maze of pipes banged and rattled mercilessly. I eased the door closed behind me. Above the boiler, massive ductwork went in four directions like a gigantic “X” across the ceiling. Each section had a screened intake panel, hinged on one side, big enough to crawl through. According to Andy, all I had to do was pull and the screen would open like a door. Then I would be free to spy uninterrupted on the entire school.

One down.

Next, the electrical panel. It was in plain sight against the wall beside the boiler. Andy told me the electrode plate that unlocked the secret opening to the mine shaft was hidden near there. It would take me straight to the Academy. I searched, but couldn’t find anything except a sign that said, “Danger! Shock Hazard! Do Not Touch!” That, and a gajillion spiderwebs. Yeah, maybe that one could wait.

As I reached to open the ductwork screen, I heard sharp voices in the hall. Curious, I stepped quietly toward the door. The bottom half was vented, so I bent down, hoping I could see through. Art Rubric and Chuckie Cuff stood across the hall, Tish’s boyfriend Whatsisface trapped between them.

Kathryn never used animals to describe Chuckie and Art. She said that God wouldn’t make animals that cruel or mindless. Chuckie was the oldest kid in the school, and looked like Scooby-Doo’s buddy Shaggy. Rumored to be in his mid-thirties, he was massively strong and amazingly dumb. He had been a senior longer than any student in history. Art Rubric was a junior, and looked like Fred Flintstone on heroin. His whole life revolved around pleasing Mason. Rumor was that Mason could get the police to back off whenever Art needed it, and he supposedly needed it often. Mason was proud of his own drug-free lifestyle, but surprisingly tolerant of people who weren’t so squeaky clean.

Art was huge, and could have played on the varsity football team, except that every time he tackled someone, he’d hold the guy down and punch his face. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d been on the opposing team.

“Pay the toll, dweeb,” Rubric said.

Poor Whatsisface reached into his pockets.

“I told you before, I don’t have any money.” He turned both pockets inside out.

“No problem,” Rubric said. “We’ll put you on a payment plan. Chuckie, give him the bill.”

Chuckie smiled and slammed his fist into Whatsisface’s stomach. Whatsisface buckled to his knees, gagging, gasping for breath. I fought a terrible urge to charge through the door and use Chuckie’s head as a toilet plunger. Rubric laughed and turned away. As he and Chuckie disappeared from my view, I heard Art say, “Come on, Mason’s waiting.”

Whatsisface dragged himself to his feet. His face was pale, and his lower lip trembled like he was trying not to cry. He turned and punched the locker. I could feel his humiliation as he waddled away, rubbing his hand. “One day,” he muttered.

Guess I didn’t need the ductwork. Art and Chuckie were being kind enough to take me straight to Mason.
Academy training, don’t fail me now!

I slipped silently from the boiler room and trailed Rubric and Chuckie. As they approached the chemistry lab, Mason joined them. I disappeared into a doorway.

“Mase, dude, halls are secure,” Chuckie said. “Cash is flowing. Let’s celebrate. I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Mason said. “Stupid people have a fast metabolism.”

“Dude,” Chuckie said. “That’s harsh.”

“Truth hurts, buddy. Go eat. I gotta make a phone call.”

“The Big Chalupa?” Chuckie asked.

“He’d kill you if he heard you call him that.” Mason shook his head. “I got something lined up for tonight. I’ll catch up.” He turned and ambled away.

How convenient. Mason might be calling Scallion. His Friday night nice guy points had just dipped
way
below zero. A little eavesdropping should quickly tell me what Mason was up to. I let him round the corner, then started to follow. Rubric and Chuckie were ahead of me, yakking about their exciting new source of income, walking too slowly. I needed to get around them without being seen. Fortunately, Psi Fighters train for just this sort of thing.

I stepped silently, carefully positioning myself behind Rubric as he walked. It was a tricky move, but I had practiced it for years with Andy. He called it the art of invisibility. I called it being sneaky. I could sneak past
anybody
at the Academy, and they were trained to have heightened awareness.

Silent as a shadow, I moved and weaved and ducked my way around the Duncely Duo, very pleased with my mad ninja skills. I was so close I could have slapped them, and they didn’t have a clue. A few more seconds, and I would be on my way to eavesdrop on Mason. Getting around these oblivious bozoids was easy sailing.

Suddenly, my neck tickled. I reached back to scratch, and pulled a prickly something off my collar. When I looked to see what it was, a monstrous spider crawled across my palm, at which time I let out the most impressive scream of my career. It echoed down the hall and into the next galaxy. I spun and shook my hand and jumped up and down until I bounced right off of Rubric and onto my butt. Anchors away.

“What have we here?” Rubric smiled down at me. “An empty hall, a very loud bleach blond, and a new source of cash.”

“It’s not bleached,” I mumbled, pulling myself to my feet. A shudder shot down my spine as the spider disappeared under a doorway. I was
never
going in that boiler room again.

“Pay the toll to the troll, Peroxide.”

I didn’t have time for this. On one hand, I could easily clobber these two bozoids and escape to follow Mason. On the other hand, clobbering said bozoids would look very suspicious and would draw mundo attention. That would be mundo bad. Then a brilliant plan popped into my mind.

Run.

“TTFN,” I said, and sprinted after Mason, ignoring Rubric’s calls for me to stop and pay my bills. As I rounded the bend, I caught a glimpse of Mason ducking into the last place I would have ever dreamed of spying on him. Now I was faced with another dilemma, this one much more interesting than the last.

…

“You followed him into the boy’s locker room?” Kathryn squealed when we met up at the end of the day. “You are absolutely my hero! I want to be a Psi Fighter. Where’s the application?”

I grinned. The school library was empty, as usual, and Kathryn and I were back at our table in the study room with Andy’s map unrolled. “Okay, I didn’t actually walk in after him. I used the ductwork.”

“The front door would have been a ton easier.”

“True. But I’m pretty sure a girl walking into the boy’s locker room would be noticed.”

“Details,” Kathryn demanded. “I need details. What was it like? Wait, let me guess. Boys are gross. It smelled like butt fumes and old gym socks.”

“Actually, it smelled like the girl’s locker room.”

“Like I said, butt fumes and old gym socks. Okay, so you’re hanging out in the boy’s locker room. And?”

“Well, I could see everything from the main ventilator shaft opening, but I couldn’t hear much. I think I broke the earbud when I bounced off Rubric.”

“I assume by
see everything
you mean see
everything.
That would have been good enough for me.”

“Yeah, except that I wanted to hear Mason’s phone call. Anyway, I peeked out and saw him standing alone. He whipped out his cell and headed into a toilet stall. So I backed away from the opening and followed the ductwork to the stalls.”

“You had to pass over the showers,” Kathryn said, pointing to the map. “Speak to me.”

“Umm, yeah, well…”

“Did you see any—”

“They were empty.”

Kathryn shook her head. “Disappointing.”

“I know.” I didn’t tell Kathryn, but my feelings about spying into the boys’ shower had been a mixture of wild curiosity at what I might see and abject terror at the thought of my dad finding out. Or the Kilodan. Or Andy. Only Kathryn would be proud. “Anyway, I pulled open a vent cover and dropped into the stall next to Mason.”

“Personally, I would have waited over the showers. But, hey, that’s just me. So, which end of him was making noise?”

“The end with the mouth,” I said. “It was whispering. ‘Tonight, just like I told you,’ he said. Then he said, ‘Home. I’ll bring your package. Of course, ten.’ Then he hung up.”

“So he’s meeting somebody at ten o’clock tonight. Who?”

“I wonder if this is the delivery Scallion talked about in LaReau’s memory. Mason used the same word as LaReau—
package
.” A terrible thought flipped through my head. “Does this mean Mason is involved in the kidnapping? I have to tell Andy. We need a stakeout.”

“Home.” Kathryn frowned and shook her head. “Not sure how anybody could call the Shadow Passage home.”

“What, he meant the Shadow Passage? Not his house? Are you sure?”

“Definitely. He calls it his home-away-from-home.”

Made sense. He hung out there, ate there, did who knows what else there…maybe there was more to that SSA back room than he told me. I thought for a minute. “I have to get back to the Academy. I need building plans for the Shadow Passage.”

I put my map away, and we started out of the library.

“Here’s the deal,” I told Kathryn. “I’ll go to the Academy, memorize the Shadow Passage layout, and hide myself somewhere in the building before Mason shows up. Once he arrives, I’ll find out who he kidnapped, rescue her, beat him into wombat butter, and meet you for ice cream. Sound good?”

“Except for one tiny detail,” Kathryn said as we stepped into the hall. Art Rubric and Chuckie blocked the path. Apparently waiting for me.

“Five small dollars.” Chuckie grinned like a hyena. He spread his hands wide and gazed out onto some imaginary horizon. “Then you are free to roam these hallowed halls. Such a pittance for liberation.”

“I didn’t know you could use big words, Chuckie.” Kathryn batted her eyes. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I saw it on a wall in town,” Chuckie said. His grin grew bigger and he blushed.

Kathryn turned to Rubric. “We have someplace to be. Touch either of us, and you’ll learn what getting beat up by a girl feels like.”

“We don’t accept MasterCard or threats,” Rubric said. “Cash only.”

“I don’t have any money,” I told him.

“That’s okay,” Rubric said. “You qualify for our payment plan. Chuckles, give her the bill.”

Chuckie’s grin disappeared. “Dude, she’s a girl.”