The Afterlife Academy (18 page)

T
rutti sat cross-legged on the back of a mangy pit bull, winding the whip around his wrist. Entrancing the dogs of the Kindhearted Veterinary Clinic had been his idea.
His
idea. No one else had offered any suggestions. Hoonga had just said to keep the boy trapped until the rainstorm began. But trying to contain a human possessed by an Academy Agent was no walk in the park.

Now, with the boy boarded up in his apartment with no way to escape, Trutti had a brand-new idea. He was going to capture Charlie and
The Summoner's Handbook
and take them personally to Hoonga. His master would be pleased for sure. Maybe he would reward Trutti. Maybe he would finally throw away his awful game of Bones.

“I'm waiting!” Trutti called to the boy. “You have three minutes, and then I bring in all the dogs.” This was fun. All around him, his canine army stood at attention. Trutti loved dogs. Not because they so closely resembled his own shape and image, but because of how easily he could control them. Dogs worked differently from most animals. Trying to entrance even a single cat could exhaust his energy. Horses, cattle, lizards were way too difficult to use. Other than birds, dogs were by far the easiest animals for entrancement.

The study door opened, and Trutti sat up, surprised. He assumed he would have to resort to more difficult strategies to lure the boy and the prize out of the room.

Someone tossed out a small blue object, which thudded against the floor. Then the door slammed shut.

The dogs began to pant.

“What is that?” Trutti peered over the head of the pit bull.

The tiny object stood up, shook its head while making a sound like an angry rattlesnake, and then flapped its blue-feathered wings. Twenty-four pairs of dog eyes came into focus, the red glow of entrancement instantly worn off. Their hind legs bristled, and long streamers of drool plopped from their eager mouths to the floor.

“Oh bother!” Trutti groaned as the ancient blue parakeet took flight, heading for the open apartment door with the dogs stampeding after it. Right toward Trutti.

F
our yellow canaries and two gray finches stood at attention along the desktop in front of the computer. The color of their pinprick eyes had changed from black to brilliant lavender. Charlie's parents and sister stood a safe distance away from the birds and eyed them suspiciously.

“What's wrong with them?” Darcy asked as she cowered behind her mother's arm.

Charlie stood up from checking under the doorway. “The coast seems clear. I don't see any dogs out there anymore. I think they took the bait.”

“I hate to admit this, but that was pretty smart,” Walter said. “How did you know the dogs would chase your dumb birds?”

Charlie smiled. “I didn't. I just assumed Doris might be able to distract them. That was totally unexpected.”

“Those dogs must really hate your birds.”

“I know. It's so annoying. I just hope Doris's wings don't give out on her and she ends up some poodle's snack.” He returned to the desk and stared at the remaining birds. “Step aside, please,” he whispered. The birds immediately obeyed, hopping out of Charlie's way as he took hold of the keyboard.

“How…how…?” his dad muttered. “How are you doing that?” Seeing Charlie suddenly take control of the minds of his seven pet birds stunned his parents into a reverent silence. Either it was some elaborate magic trick worthy of Las Vegas, or their son had told the truth.

“You can't see it,” Charlie said as he held up the invisible whistle. “But this is a Feral Whistle. We use it to control animals.”

“So what you're saying is you have been possessed by an…um…an angel?” his mother asked.

“Tell her I'm not an angel, I'm an Agent. A-gent,” Walter said firmly.

“That will just confuse her,” Charlie answered.

“This can't be good,” Charlie's mother whimpered. “Does he make you do things you shouldn't?”

Charlie opened his mouth and then closed it. She had a point. “No, Mom, it's nothing like that. He's actually a good guy.”

“But why? Why would this spirit…”

“Walter,” Charlie said. “His name's Walter.”

“Right, Walter. If he's so good, why would he
possess
you? Maybe we should call one of those hotlines. What do you think, Martin? Do you know someone who could help Charlie?”

Mr. Dewdle, not looking away from the birds, grunted and shook his head. “I don't like any of this. It's not natural.”

“Charlie, buddy, I hate to break up this family moment, but how long do you think ol' blue Doris is going to hold up? We need to get moving to a safer place,” Walter said. “Like, now!”

“I know, I know. I think I have a good idea of where to go.” Charlie clicked on the
Chat with Wisdom
link on SpiritSpy.org and typed a brief message.

Wisdom, we need to meet. Are you there?

“Who's Wisdom?” Mr. Dewdle whispered to his wife. “Sounds like a creep.”

“He's one of Charlie's friends, dear. I'm sure he's fine.”

“But why doesn't he hang out with real people at his school?” Mr. Dewdle asked. “Why does he have to type to imaginary people on the Internet?”

“I'm in the room.” Charlie covered his eyes with his hand. “I can hear you!”

A response blipped on the screen.

Charlie!

All is well, I hope. I'd love to meet. Are you attending the Wraith Festival?

Yes,
Charlie typed.
Where are you staying?

Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie saw Darcy waving her hand in front of one of the canaries. The bird gave no response even when she poked it in the chest with her finger.

“Please don't touch them, dork,” Charlie scolded.

Darcy stuck out her tongue and scowled.

“I love your family,” Walter said.

I'm at the Ritz-Carlton in Conrad. Room 406. Here's a link for the directions. Will you be bringing the book?

“Ask him about the torch,” Walter said.

Charlie nodded as he typed.

Yep. Do you have a Chamber Torch we can use?

From outside the study door, a single dog barked. Darcy checked beneath the door and giggled. “It's the cocker spaniel. Can we let him in? I think he's friendly.” Charlie's parents shook their heads. “Awww!” Darcy huffed and stomped her foot.

Wisdom responded.

Yes, I brought one in case you got my email in time and could come. When should I expect you?

“Good question,” Walter said. “Is there a bus you can take from here to Conrad, Minnesota?”

Charlie gnawed on his lip and slowly looked up at his parents. “Do you think you could drive me?”

Mrs. Dewdle knelt down next to Charlie. “If you need to go to Conrad, I could probably rearrange my schedule tomorrow. When do you need to go?”

Charlie clenched his teeth and fretted. “Um…now.”

“Now? Like right now? Charlie, it's almost nine o'clock. Can't it wait until tomorrow?”

“No, Mom, it can't. I don't think we'll survive until tomorrow.”

“Don't be so dramatic.”

“I'm serious. You saw what just happened.” Charlie walked to the window and opened the blinds, instantly cowering away from the sight. “And you can't see them, but right outside this window are two creatures called wraiths that want to kill us. All of us!” He closed the blinds, and the wraiths began scratching their claws once more against the glass.

“
That's
obnoxious,” Walter muttered.

Charlie's mom puffed out her cheeks and tapped her lip with her index finger. “It's a festival?”

“Yes. It's called the Wraith Festival. Wisdom Willows will be there, and he'll know what to do with the book. Please, Mom, I'm begging you.” Charlie clamped his hands together pleadingly.

Mrs. Dewdle looked at her husband. “What do you think?”

He didn't answer, but Charlie's sister started hopping up and down excitedly. “I want to go! I want to go! Please, Mom, please!”

“Darcy, shush!” Mrs. Dewdle snapped. She stood and placed her hand on her husband's forearm. “Dear, we should probably do as Charlie says. It sounds serious.”

Mr. Dewdle blinked. “Do we have to dress up?”

C
harlie, his mother, and his sister stood on the main level of the apartment complex, staring out the back-door window. Charlie's dad sat in the driver's seat of the idling family SUV beneath the covered parking lot, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Above the apartment, dive-bombing the remaining dogs from the Kindhearted Veterinary Clinic, Charlie's canaries and finches darted through the air, each of them still entranced by the Feral Whistle. So far, no injuries had befallen any of his pets, but Charlie worried one of the larger dogs, a Doberman pinscher or a greyhound, was bound to catch a bird in its snapping jaws.

Mr. Dewdle honked the horn and rolled his hand in the air, signaling the family to get moving.

“Yes, dear, we're coming!” Charlie's mom said, exaggerating the words so that her husband could see her mouth. “Charlie, what are we waiting for?”

Charlie checked the sky for signs of wraiths. When they had exited the study, the creepy specters were still scraping the window with their claws. He just hoped they wouldn't figure out the plan.

“Do you think they're going to try to ambush us?” Walter whispered.

“It looks clear. I don't see them,” Charlie said. “And we can't stay here.”

“Are you talking to Walter right now?” Charlie's mom asked. Charlie nodded. “What's he saying?”

“He's worried the wraiths might ambush us.”

She frowned. “Now, you listen to me, Walter!” Her voice boomed in Charlie's ear. “Stop scaring my son!”

“Mom, you don't have to yell!”

Walter laughed. “Your mom's a trip. Is she always this…odd?”

“She means well.”

“What's he saying now?” his mom demanded.

“Nothing.”

Charlie's dad blared the horn once more, stuck his head out the car window, and yelled, “Let's go!”

The three of them, plus Walter, reached the vehicle without incident. Charlie's mom sat in the front next to his father, and Darcy sat crammed against the far window, cautiously watching Charlie as though she feared a ghost would pop out of him at any minute. The SUV lurched onto the road, and the dogs scattered. Though they nipped and barked at one another, keeping their eyes on the sky in search of the birds, Charlie could no longer see the faint glow in the dogs' eyes.

“Where is this place again?” Charlie's dad asked. “In Conrad?”

“Yes, Dad. Wisdom's staying at the Ritz-Carlton.” Charlie handed him the address. Charlie's dad shook his head, sighing, but typed the information into the car's GPS and started driving.

The two red figures floating by the apartment window suddenly turned and swooshed toward the road.

“Man, they can move!” Walter said. “They're going to catch us!”

“Faster, Dad, faster!” Charlie shouted as the wraiths flew behind the SUV, their claws outstretched, raking the bumper.

“I can't go more than thirty. This is a neighborhood.” He glanced sideways at his wife. “This is ridiculous,” he hissed under his breath.

“Just do it.” Charlie's mom nudged her husband's arm with her hand.

Mr. Dewdle shrugged. “We're going to get pulled over. But…” He stepped heavily on the gas pedal, and the SUV sped forward.

Forty miles per hour. Fifty. Then sixty, and seventy. Charlie watched the needle on the speedometer rise as the gap between the rear bumper and the two determined wraiths widened. When the SUV hit eighty miles per hour, the wraiths surrendered their chase and disappeared from view.

“That's about all she'll give us,” Mr. Dewdle said. “This kind of SUV isn't made to go more than eighty.”

“It's okay, we lost them,” Charlie said.

Charlie's mom ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his dad's head and smiled. “You did good, sweetie. You'll have to slow down a little when we hit the junction, though. You don't want to miss the turnoff to the Chapmans'. Boy, will I hear about this at the next PTA meeting. Taking Charlie to a festival and allowing Darcy to sleep over at the last minute. It's going to take a lot of explaining to keep those women quiet.”

“Mom, I don't want to go to the Chapmans'!” Darcy whined. “I want to go with you guys to the festival!”

“We'll probably need to stop for gas too.” Charlie's mom ignored Darcy's pleading. “Plus, I need to use the restroom.”

“You've got to be kidding me,” Walter groaned.

“Mom, you're just going to have to hold it,” Charlie said.