The Afterlife Academy (14 page)

Charlie nodded as he typed, then waited for Wisdom's response.

It's difficult to say.
The Summoner's Handbook
will draw the attention of all Underworld creatures, particularly higher-level demons. You have to understand how dangerous that book is. It's the holy grail of demonic artifacts. Every dark thing has dreamed about getting their claws on it. I'm impressed you've managed to fend them off so far by yourself, but you won't continue to be so lucky. They'll just become more and more aggressive. My advice would be to stay in your home at all times. I'm close to discovering a way to destroy the book. Until then, don't travel anywhere out of your neighborhood, especially at night.

“That's good advice.” Charlie closed the Internet browser.

“Agreed. But we have to make that trip to Pressley.”

“You read what Wisdom said. The demons are just going to become more desperate.”

“All the more reason to get help from another Agent. Trust me, Charlie, we have to do this.”

T
he three shades floated in midair beneath a faded Slumber Inn billboard sign poking above the freeway. Their long black cloaks fluttered and flapped as if caught in a strong wind, though the air in Gabbiter, Iowa, was still. From their position, they could see the front parking lot and pickup zone of Cunningham Middle School.

Down below, lounging on a rock, sat Trutti, picking at his toenails with his teeth. Hairless, with flaky gray skin and a foxlike snout, which he constantly licked with his forked tongue, Trutti was definitely not easy on the eyes. Had he not been invisible to most humans, he would've looked to them like the world's ugliest dog. Everything on his body, except his ears, drooped and sagged. He could stand upright if he chose to, but he preferred walking on all fours. He called to the shades in a bored yet agitated voice.

“Has he left yet?”

“No one has exited the school,” one shade replied.

“All is quiet,” hissed another. “No, wait! See now. The boy is the first to leave. It hurries out. It trips, but stands again. Just as you said, it leaves well before any others, and it seems to be headed—”

Trutti growled, cutting the shade off midsentence. “Could you cool it with the play-by-play? Does he have the book with him? Is it in his possession?”

The shades paused, peering down upon Trutti and then back toward the school. “We cannot know for sure. But the boy has a pack. Something on its back.”

Trutti scampered up the billboard post until he stood just beneath the shades. Looking out over the trees, he narrowed his eyes and watched as Charlie walked quickly away from the school.

“He has it in his possession,” Trutti said. “Can't you see its aura?” He pointed at the rippling waves of energy pulsing from Charlie's backpack. “And he's definitely not headed for his home.”

“How do you know?” the shades asked.

“Because his home is in the opposite direction!”

The shades turned, silently processing this information. Satisfied, they nodded. “Yes, you are wise.”

Trutti rolled his eyes. “Okay. Follow him. Stay close, but don't get spotted.”

“Why should we worry about being spotted? It cannot harm us.”

Trutti puffed out his cheeks. Next to the tall shades, the lesser demon truly looked like a small, pathetic animal. But with surprising speed and leaping ability, he snagged the cloak of the closest shade, dragging it down through the air until its face floated at eye level.

“Hoonga put
me
in charge here! Do you understand?” Trutti hissed.

The shade nodded its hood and began stammering an apology as the other two lowered next to it. But before it could finish its groveling, Trutti muttered and stuck his hand into the hood, and the shade blinked out of existence with a black puff of dust.

“Master!” the two remaining shades wailed, bowing reverently. “Shade One Hundred Fifteen deserved it! Always it questioned. Always defiant. But not us, Master Trutti. We obey—always obey!”

Trutti rolled his eyes again. “Whatever. Now go and find out what the boy is up to. Don't be seen, and meet me at the rendezvous point tonight once the sun has fully set.”

“Yes,” the shades acquiesced. Dropping down from the billboard, they kept hidden beneath the cover of trees as they took off after Charlie.

T
he day after Charlie's victory over Mo was relatively uneventful. Before he knew it, school was over and he was walking briskly through a part of town he'd never been to before. Most of the buildings were dilapidated. He passed Tebo's Pawnshop and an Asian market. A man walking a rottweiler on a leash approached along the sidewalk. The dog had its hind leg at half-mast over a fire hydrant when it caught wind of Charlie and began to snarl. Charlie instinctively stepped sideways into a parking lot to give the dog and its owner a wide berth.

“All right, let's review the game plan. You have the bus schedule printout?” Walter asked.

“Where else would it be?” But Charlie patted his back pocket just to make sure.

“Okay, okay. I'm just checking. You're acting nervous.”

“I'm not nervous!” Charlie snapped. But he was. Extremely nervous. He and Walter had reviewed the plan several times the night before, but he highly doubted it would work.

When the bus arrived at the bus stop, Charlie boarded the near-empty vehicle headed to the town of Pressley, just a couple of miles away.

The bus stopped in the center of town, and Charlie got out. The neighborhood was quite different from the one he'd just left, and from his own. Beautiful mansions towered over him as he walked the five blocks to the Underhills' residence and waited. Ten minutes later, a jet-black Jeep Cherokee pulled into the driveway.

Tyrone and another high school boy stepped out of the car and onto the lawn. They both wore baseball caps, and Tyrone was talking on a cell phone. A third boy, closer to Charlie and Walter's age and dressed in an odd all-white uniform, emerged from the back of the vehicle. Only he didn't use the door. He simply materialized on the outside of the Jeep as though by magic.

Walter gasped. “That's him! That's Ronald Logan. You've got to move now!”

Charlie sprang from the bench, bolting toward Tyrone.

“Don't run!” Walter groaned. “You're gonna get—”

“Where you going, kid?” Tyrone asked as he noticed Charlie, clicking his phone closed.

Charlie turned and stared at the sidewalk in embarrassment. “Uh…me?”

“Yeah, you,” Tyrone said. “You don't live around here, do you?”

Charlie forced a laugh and ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh no, I'm just visiting my friend.”

“You have to get closer to him,” Walter said. “Or I might not be able to get Ronald's attention.”

Suddenly, an explosion of purple light enveloped Tyrone. Charlie covered his eyes with his hands as the light shone brighter than anything he had ever seen. He could barely make out Tyrone from behind the purple barrier. It was like looking through murky glass.

“What's wrong with you?” Tyrone asked from behind the bubble of glowing purple light. “You sick or something?”

“What
is
that?” Charlie pointed. “Why is it so bright?”

Tyrone looked genuinely concerned. “Maybe there's something wrong with him,” he said to his friend. Ronald moved in front of Tyrone and held his palms together, wearing a determined glare.

“He's making some sort of shield to protect his target,” Walter said. “Maybe that means he can see me. Ronald! Hey, Ronald! It's me. Look over here!”

Ronald didn't respond. Instead, he muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and more light erupted from his fingertips, shooting directly at Charlie.

“Get down!” Walter shouted. Charlie felt his whole body lurch forward as the light hurtled overhead. Then he heard screaming and hissing behind him. Two black-robed figures swathed in the purple light were writhing in the air.

Still shielding his eyes, Charlie scrambled to his knees and watched as the shades burst into clouds of wispy black smoke. The shield faded, and Charlie timidly got to his feet.

Tyrone and his friend backed away slowly, looking at Charlie as if he were a rabid squirrel, and entered the house. But Ronald still stood on the sidewalk, brooding with concentration as his eyes scanned the street.

“Where did they come from?” Charlie whimpered.

“I don't know, but hurry! Try and get Ronald to look at you,” Walter ordered.

“Hi there!” Charlie waved his hands to get Ronald's attention.

Ronald ignored the gesture. Charlie shouted louder, and the Agent's eyes rested on him apprehensively. He didn't say anything, but turned to see whom Charlie was waving at.

“Ronald Logan,” Walter said. “That is your name, isn't it?”

“Who said that?” Ronald whirled around with his hands poised to strike.

“You and your brothers died in your sleep,” Walter continued. “Of smoke inhalation.”

Ronald muttered another incantation, causing a surge of purple light to crackle at his fingertips. “Show yourself, demon!”

“I'm standing right in front of you, but I'm guessing you really wouldn't recognize me, since we barely met less than a week ago,” Walter said.

Ronald turned and looked once again at Charlie. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Is that you? Can you see me?”

Charlie wore a goofy smile and nodded. “Yeah, I can see you, but I'm not the one talking.” He pointed at his chest, whispering, “He's inside me.”

Ronald's right eye twitched. “
Inside
you?” The small orb of light began to pulsate. “Were those shades with
you
?”

“No—I mean…I guess they were following us, but they're not
with
us.” Charlie held up his hands. “They were trying to attack us. That's why we're here. We need your help!”

“ ‘We'? Who's ‘we'?” Ronald demanded.

“You're not going to believe this,” Walter said proudly. “But it's me, Walter Prairie.”

Ronald swallowed and scrunched his nose in confusion. “Who?”

“Walter Prairie. Don't you remember? It was, like, just last week. I was standing in front of Alton's desk, and you and your brothers walked by.”

“Look, I'm sorry, but I have no clue—”

“Struck by lightning.” Walter deliberately said it slowly, drawing out the words.

This time Ronald's eyes brightened, and his mouth dropped open wider. “The new kid? Walter?”

“In the flesh,” Walter answered. “Well, not
my
flesh.”

“But how? You were just getting ready to enlist in the Academy. How are you here? And who's
this
kid?” He gestured to Charlie. “What are you doing inside him?”

“I'll explain everything, but we need to talk, and I really need your help. Is it okay if you hang out with us and leave your target alone for a bit?”

Ronald glanced at the house. “Are you sure those shades were following you?”

Charlie nodded quickly.

“Yeah, I guess they would have to be. This place is as boring as school. My assignment is pretty lame. Come on. I'll take you to the park down the road. That should give us some privacy.”