Riser (Teen Horror/Science Fiction) (Book #1 in The Riser Saga) ((Volume 1)) (24 page)

“Well maybe that’s because I’ve been friends with Chelsan
publicly
for three years now! I wasn’t the a-hole that was afraid of what people might think!” Bill’s nostrils were actually flaring.

I sat in the middle of the two of them holding my breath.

“You’re so rich no one cares what you do!” Ryan’s hand squeezed mine to the point of pain.

“Ow,” I said, but he couldn’t hear me.

“Nancy isn’t rich and she didn’t care what people thought!” Bill roared.

The people that were already staring were now staring even harder. Even the press was trying to take pictures of this feud.

“Don’t bring me into this,” Nancy chimed in, but she knew it was a futile effort.

But Bill’s comment worked like a slap in the face to Ryan. His grip loosened on my hand and his body slumped in defeat. “You’re right.”

And to my surprise, Bill actually looked sorry. “Forget it. I’m just jealous.”

Neither one of them could look at each other.

Nancy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “You two are idiots.”

“Can I say something?” I wanted to clear the air.

“No,” all three of them said in unison, which made them all smile.

“Fine.” Maybe letting the two of them have it out was enough. I’d probably make it worse anyway.

Principal Weatherby walked up to the microphone in the center of the stage. He was a bald portly man who had the thickest handlebar mustache I had ever seen. His face was always a rosy pink color, which gave the impression that he was forever embarrassed. Weatherby appeared to be in his late twenties, but everyone knew he was one-hundred and sixty-seven. He helped build this school. It was his pride and joy.

More nervous than usual, Weatherby’s shaking hands grabbed the microphone stand in front of him. “Quiet down. Quiet down.” He cleared his throat as everyone in the room stopped and gave him their attention. “It is my honor and privilege to introduce the namesake of our school, Vice President of Population Control Geoffrey Turner!” He yelled the last bit since the room had already exploded in applause.

I think we were the only four who didn’t move a muscle. We were all waiting in anticipation of what would happen next.

We didn’t have to wait long. The curtains behind Principal Weatherby began to part. I had been right. Turner was waiting on stage behind the curtains, probably watching me. He walked toward Weatherby with a plastered smile on his face. Some of the students oooh’d and aaahh’d, not just because they were seeing the most powerful man in the world, but because he actually looked old. Age-pro was invented when Turner was in his fifties and not many people of that era were very public. It was one thing to see the Vice President on the holo-tv, but entirely different to see him in person. He had wrinkles around his eyes and creases on his forehead, his body seemed normal, but his hands had brownish spots and blue veins that you could literally see from where I was sitting. It was a bit of a shock for everyone. Old was worse than poor for the general public. Being poor myself, I might have had sympathy for the old guy, but I knew what he was capable of. I tried to block out the images of him slicing his arm open or of his wife and the boa constrictor oozing out of her mouth. Aaaah, my grandparents. No wonder I could raise the dead, look at my genes.

Five others followed after him and I craned my neck to get a better look at them…

“I’m dead…” I croaked.

Nancy, Ryan and Bill all looked at me for something more, but I couldn’t utter another syllable.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked anyway.

I was breathless with disbelief.

Standing behind Turner were five people…

…Five
dead
people.

Their black swirling holes mocking me from my seat.

“His staff…” I tried to keep the squeak from my voice.

“What about them?” Nancy was talking to me like I was four to get me to calm down.

“They’re dead. They’re all dead.” I could literally hear and feel my voice shake.

My three friends had no words. Their eyes opened in amazement and they watched me as if they were waiting for me to say I was kidding.

I wasn’t.

Someone else could do what I could do. Maybe a lot more than someone, maybe lots of someones. My mind whirled and whirled until I thought I was going to puke on Ryan’s lap.

“Chelsan!” Ryan turned my head to his with his hand. “They’re calling you up to the stage.”

Everyone was gawking at me. I took a deep breath. I seemed to be taking a lot of those lately. Worst of all, I peered up at Turner, curious and horrified all at the same time. His eyes bore into mine. I could feel the hatred emanating there, boiling, in fact, so much so I had to turn away. I had no doubt in my mind; he knew exactly who I was and he wanted me dead. I tried to rationalize in my head how I could ever get out of this mess. There was a count down happening and I had no control over when it was going to hit zero.

I stood up on shaking legs and made my way to the stairs on the side of the stage. The most important thing I could do was to keep a clear mind and try and think of a plan. First things first, if someone was keeping these corpses alive and kicking, I need to find out if I could take control of them myself? I walked as slowly as I could so I could experiment. I concentrated and tried to link myself to the dead man closest to me who was typing something in his reader.

Nothing. He kept typing.

Okay.

Again. Maybe I was nervous. Of course I was nervous! Concentrate.

Nothing.

But I sensed something new this time. It was as if there was an invisible wall completely covering his black hole. It was literally a barrier of some sort and I had no idea how to break through it.

This was not a good sign.

I found myself on stage standing in front of Turner and his zombie staff.

His smile was forced, but no one noticed.

Turner held out his hand for me to shake and I obliged cautiously. His hands were soft but firm in their grip, his eyes found mine, his smile cunning and cruel. My head was churning again. I thought I was going to pee my pants in front of the school. (
The world
actually, considering all the cameras were focused on us.) This guy really had a hold on my fear button and he was pressing it over and over. That’s when he went in for a hug.

As he tightened his arms around me, he leaned in to my ear. “Hello, Granddaughter.”

That could have been a loving moment in life if Geoffrey Turner wasn’t completely evil.

Turner pulled away with an even larger grin than before. The roar of the crowd egging him on. I was amazed that I was still conscious.

He turned to the microphone. “It is with great pleasure that I award Chelsan Derée with a full scholarship for the rest of her stay here at Geoffrey Turner High School.”

More roars from the crowd.

Turner droned on and on about the tragic events that led to my mother’s death and my home being destroyed.

It gave me time to process. Paying my way through school indicated that he wasn’t planning on killing me soon. Or maybe it was an alibi. I needed to discuss this with my friends. But in the mean time, I needed to stay on my toes around this guy. And I needed to calm down! I was letting my terror rule me and I wanted to keep my head clear. Think this through, logically and calmly. I could use any dead thing in my near vicinity to hurt him if need be. That was good. Just because these five corpses were out of my control didn’t necessarily mean I was screwed. To keep my mind focused I found a dead mouse’s black hole inside the assembly hall wall. I attached to him easily, made him run a little, even threw in a jump. Okay, that meant Turner didn’t control every dead thing in the surrounding area. Just these five guys.

I glanced back at one of them. A lady with black-rimmed glasses and blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. She was wearing a pants suit and holding a briefcase. She was even fidgeting for goodness sake! Whoever was controlling her was really good. A thought hit me. Maybe someone wasn’t controlling her. Maybe this was more like the Vodun ritual Mr. Alaster told us about from the Scientific Journal. If that were true how were they controlled? There had to be some way. I needed more information. I tried connecting with her black hole, but she had the same protective wall that the first man had.

Quick test. Yep. They all did. Great.

My mind was ripped back into the present moment when I heard Turner say, “I’m going to meet privately with Ms. Derée in Principal Weatherby’s office to take care of all her needs. Thanks to the press for coming out here and thank you to Principal Weatherby for such a kind welcome. Good day to you all.”

Privately? Uh, oh.

I searched the audience to see Nancy, Ryan and Bill giving me looks of encouragement, but I could tell they were more scared than I was.

I was getting dizzy with all the deep breaths I was taking, but it somehow calmed my stomach. I barely heard Principal Weatherby excuse the students. Their shuffling out the door was just another step closer to me being alone with Gramps.

“Ms. Derée?” Turner held his hand out for me to follow Principal Weatherby.

Weatherby turned to me with an expression of genuine concern. “Don’t worry Chelsan, we’ve restricted the press access to my office. They won’t bother you.”

I smiled, but inside I was thinking that I’d kind of like the reporters around now. Maybe I could convince Principal Weatherby to stay with us. “Principal Weatherby?”

“Yes, Chelsan.” I’d never seen him so worried about me. He was usually warning me that if I didn’t have the money for this school I was no longer welcome. I guess with everything that had happened to me, he was feeling a little guilty.

I walked up next to him so that Turner and his staff were trailing us by a few feet. I spoke quietly so only Weatherby could hear. “I’d feel more comfortable if you stayed with me. I’m too nervous around the Vice President.” I glanced back to make sure Turner didn’t hear.

Weatherby placed his hand on my shoulder supportively. “I hear you, Chelsan, but I can’t argue with the man. He wants his time alone with you. Don’t worry, it won’t take long, he has a busy schedule. He just wants to go over some contracts with you so he can set you up financially. Great man, Geoffrey Turner.”

Yeah, he’s peachy. Oh by the way did I mention he wants to kill me? Okay, thanks for your support. Bleh.

I was on my own. I could deal. Hopefully.

We were at Weatherby’s office in no time.

“Thank you, Principal Weatherby, we’ll only be a few moments,” Turner said with his usual grin.

“I’ll just be in the teacher’s lounge when you’re through.” Weatherby shook Turner’s hand, gave me an encouraging wink and headed toward the lounge next door.

“After you.” Turner held the door for me and I walked through trying not to shake too much.

Turner entered with his staff. One of his men closed the door. When everyone was inside the five corpses lined up against the wall. Weatherby’s office was pretty large with a six foot oak desk near the back and brown leather furniture. The throne behind the desk (and it seriously looked like a throne, over five feet high, two feet wide, mahogany trim with grommet punched leather) was a statement of how well Weatherby thought of himself. There were holo-pictures everywhere on his wall of Weatherby with some celebrity or political figure. It was almost like a shrine to himself and how many people he’d met over the years.

Turner sat in Weatherby’s seat of power and motioned for me to sit across from him in the puny wooden chair reserved for visitors. “Please sit.”

“I’ll stand.” Better to stay on my feet.

“Suit yourself.” Turner nodded his head to one of his staff and the woman with the briefcase walked over and laid it on the table. “Thank you, Marion. Could you close the curtains, please?”

Marion didn’t say a word as she walked to the large window overlooking the cherry blossomed courtyard and closed the heavy brown curtains. Only the overhead lights from the office gave any illumination to the room.