Villainous (21 page)

“Thanks for warning us,” said Johnny. “I was afraid something like this would happen.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Daniel.

“Let’s go find out what Sheriff Simmons wants.”

They walked together down to the gate and saw that a few deputies were talking to the security guard there. The deputies had pistols holstered at their hips; the guard had a clipboard. Two men were standing behind a semicircle made up of microphones and news cameras. The first Daniel recognized instantly as Sheriff Simmons, and the second, the rather round and baffled-looking mayor of Noble’s Green, was talking to the reporters.

“I repeat that we are only here to question two persons of interest who were featured in the widely circulated video,” he was saying.

“Can you confirm that the video is a terrorist recruitment tool?” asked one of the reporters.

The mayor addressed the question without looking directly at the questioner. He never took his eyes away from the camera. “We have no comment as to the nature of the video.”

“What are the suspects’ names?”

Sheriff Simmons leaned in and whispered something into the mayor’s ear. “Huh? Oh yes, of course.”

“The persons of interest,” said the mayor, “are both still minors, and therefore we are not ready to give their names at this time.”

“But you can confirm that they are the ones shown in the video?” said one reporter.

“And they are both Supers?” said another.

“No comment,” answered the mayor. “Except that I assure the citizens of this town that there will be a full and thorough investigation into the claims made on that video and any connection to the recent rash of violence. No stone will remain unturned! And that includes this academy.”

This was ridiculous. If the mayor hadn’t wanted anyone to see these persons of interest, then why lead a caravan of police cars to the gate of the academy?

It was theater. All of this was theater, and apparently Johnny had had enough.

“Excuse me,” said Johnny, stepping past the guard and walking directly into the mayor’s impromptu press conference.

“Eh,” said the mayor, startled by Johnny’s sudden appearance. He quickly recovered, however, and gave Johnny a cold, accusing stare. “Ah. Principal Noble. If you will just show Sheriff Simmons and his men inside—”

“No,” said Johnny.

The mayor had already turned back to face the cameras, a self-satisfied smile on his face, when he seemed to comprehend what Johnny had just said. But even so, he looked at Sheriff Simmons, as if needing confirmation.

“Did he just say no?” the mayor whispered.

The sheriff nodded.

“Now listen,” the mayor said. “No one here wants to create a scene—”

“Yes, you do,” said Johnny. “A scene is exactly what you’re after. That’s why you brought all these police cars just to
question two boys. That’s why every news van in town is here.”

The mayor’s face reddened as he poked a fat finger in Johnny’s direction. “Out of respect for your long relationship with our dear town, I will pretend you didn’t say that. But you must remember that I am the mayor and you are still just a principal!”

Johnny turned his back on the mayor and planted himself in front of the gate. As he did, the cameramen crouched low on their knees scurried after him like a pack of dogs.

“Do you have warrants? Because if not, this school is private property,” said Johnny. “And I don’t care how many stupid videos these kids make or what they say. This looks like a witch hunt to me, and I’ve seen a few in my time.”

The mayor’s face was red with fury, but when he spoke next, it was a whisper, just soft enough to be out of the reporters’ earshot. “What if I have
you
arrested for obstructing justice?”

“Do you really want to try that?” Johnny whispered back.

Johnny folded his arms across his chest and looked out over the assembled reporters, the police, Sheriff Simmons, and the mayor. One by one, every person who met his gaze took a halting step back.

“This gate stays shut until I deem it safe to reopen,” said Johnny, this time speaking directly into the camera. “The school’s closed to visitors until further notice.”

The immediate effect of Johnny’s announcement that he was closing the school to outsiders was silence. The birds and the insects of the surrounding forest had gone quiet. Even the wind seemed to be waiting to see what would happen next. Then the reporters erupted all at once, shouting questions at Johnny and yelling over one another to be heard. But Johnny wasn’t interested in talking anymore. He turned around and started back up the sidewalk toward campus.

Mollie turned to Daniel and smiled. “Go, Johnny!”

Daniel nodded, but inside he wasn’t so sure he agreed. What was Johnny going to do next—lock down the school?
He couldn’t keep the police out forever. Eventually, they would come back with a search warrant or something, and then he’d either have to let them in or declare himself above the law. Imagine the town’s reaction then!

“Daniel,” said Johnny, “I appreciate that you two came up here to warn us, but I think you’d better be getting home now. You and Mollie.”

“But what about our friends?” asked Mollie. “They think Rohan is part of Drake’s gang.”

“They’re safe here with me. I won’t let anyone come near Rohan.”

“What are you going to do next?” Daniel asked.

“That depends on them.” He glanced back at the police cars. “I hope that everyone will use this time to cool off.”

“And what about Drake?” asked Mollie.

“What about him?”

“He’s guilty!”

“Do you have any evidence to back that up?” said Johnny.

Mollie, reluctantly, shook her head.

“We’ve been trying to connect him to the attacks,” said Daniel. “At least some of them. But so far we’ve come up empty-handed.”

“When you—or the police, for that matter—can present some real evidence that Drake or any of his friends are involved in these crimes, then I’ll be happy to march them down to the sheriff’s office myself,” said Johnny. “But right now, all he is guilty of is saying stupid things on an Internet
video. And fighting off school grounds—something that your friends had a part in too.”

With this, Johnny gave Mollie a long look, and she seemed to shrink under his gaze.

“I won’t have my students tried out there in the court of public opinion before any real charges are brought,” said Johnny. “It’s too easy to make us into scapegoats that way.”

“Us?” said Daniel.

“Them,” answered Johnny. “I’m talking about the students, of course.”

Daniel wondered.

“Considering all the news vans out there,” said Johnny, “it’s probably best if you don’t fly home.”

Johnny walked them both over to the gate. The deputies had moved the reporters back to the edge of the road, where Daniel could see them preening themselves in their compact mirrors, getting ready to file their reports in time for the evening news.

The mayor had apparently gone home.

“Sheriff Simmons,” called Johnny, and the sheriff approached the gate.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” said the sheriff.

“Do you have warrants yet? Have any of my students been charged with any crimes?”

“No,” the sheriff admitted.

“Then I know precisely what I’m doing,” said Johnny.
“In the meantime, these two young people are not students of mine, and I’d appreciate it if you could see that they get home safely.”

“That right?” asked Simmons, looking at Daniel and Mollie in turn.

“We go to Noble Middle School,” said Daniel. “We were just visiting friends.”

Sheriff Simmons stared into Daniel’s face. “I know you, don’t I?”

He did. Daniel and his friends had once been the objects of a townwide missing persons search that had caused the sheriff’s department plenty of aggravation.

“Uh, don’t think so,” lied Daniel.

“Mm-hm,” mumbled the sheriff. “Lewis!”

A deputy young enough to still have a chin covered in acne stepped forward. “Yes, Sheriff?”

“Give these two a lift home, would you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go on, son,” said the sheriff. “Maybe we’ll get you back in time for supper. And, Lewis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Keep an eye on your car this time.”

The deputy’s pimply face turned pink. “Yes, sir.”

Daniel looked back at the academy one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of his friends’ faces at the windows, but the only person visible was Johnny, standing like a sentinel at the gate.

“C’mon, kids,” said Deputy Lewis. “You don’t belong here. Time to go home.”

On the drive back through town, Deputy Lewis had to slow his car down because of the crowd of sign wavers gathered outside city hall.

“Can’t these yahoos get off the street?” complained the deputy to himself as he blasted the siren at them.

Daniel craned his neck around in the backseat to get a better look. He remembered a time not too long ago when the streets had been crowded with tourists desperate to get a picture taken with a Super. Now they were filled with people waving signs that read
WHOSE HOUSE IS NEXT?
and
SUPER-VILLAINS, GET OUT OF TOWN!

Daniel searched for any opposing protesters, maybe a few signs in support of his friends, but he didn’t see even one.

Mollie talked Deputy Lewis into dropping them off at the entrance to Elm. That way they wouldn’t have to explain why they’d been delivered home in a police car.

Daniel and Mollie exchanged an awkward goodbye. What do you say to each other when the day of your first kiss also happened to be the day the police came to take away one of your best friends?

Daniel’s parents were in the living room with the
television on—an unusual thing for a Saturday afternoon. A breaking-news headline was flashing across the bottom of the screen, and Daniel saw a little house on a tree-lined street that he recognized right away. Daniel and his friends had sat on that front porch just days ago.

“We’re outside the house of Mr. and Mrs. Parmar,” said a very concerned reporter, “whose son, sources tell us, has been identified as one of the teens on the Internet manifesto. Fourteen-year-old Rowen—”

“It’s
Rohan
,” said Daniel. “Not Rowen.”

“As a student of the Academy for Gifted Youngsters, Rowen undoubtedly possesses potentially dangerous powers, though the exact nature of those powers is still unknown.”

“Turn it off,” said Daniel. “Please.”

Daniel’s father reached for the remote, but Georgie was faster. He flipped the channel to a show about a red puppet dinosaur dancing with a stalk of broccoli.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes as Daniel pressed his hands to his temples. What was going on?

“Just breathe, honey,” his mom was saying. “Just breathe.” Daniel’s father left the room.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” said Daniel, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Aren’t you going to ask me if what they’re saying is true?”

His mom gently cupped his face in her hands and turned him toward her. “No,” she said softly. “We don’t have to.”

His dad came back into the room, holding his car keys. “I’m ready to go. You’ll call me if you hear anything new?”

Daniel’s mother nodded. “And you’ll be careful?”

“Of course.”

Daniel looked at his dad. “Where are you going?”

“To city hall,” he said. “We heard there was a protest happening down there, so a group of the parents are going down to stage our own protest—against what the mayor is up to.” Daniel’s dad ruffled

Daniel’s already messy mop of hair and said goodbye. As he was leaving, the phone rang.

“Are you okay if I answer that, Daniel?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Daniel. “Can I go to my room?”

“You’ll promise me you’ll stay in for the rest of the day?” she said. “I’m serious, Daniel. Things are getting ugly out there.”

“I promise,” he sighed.

After giving Daniel a quick peck on the forehead, she got up off the sofa and answered the phone. “Yes, yes,” she was saying. “We just saw them on TV. Have you talked to them to see if they’re all right?”

Georgie had gotten bored with the dinosaur and broccoli show and began flipping channels until he came to a spunky blond teenager smiling at the camera as a variety of makeup products floated around her head. It was the reality TV show
Skye’s the Limit
.

Daniel had never bothered watching it before, and now just seeing Skye’s face made him sick to his stomach. She
might be playing the ditzy blonde for the cameras, but Daniel remembered her at the junkyard, her cruel smile as she’d used her powers to bind Michael and Mollie up like cattle. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her, even if it was only a screen of pixels.

He got up and started for the stairs just as she began arguing with someone about whether French was really a language or a kind of salad dressing. As Daniel turned his back on the TV, she exploded into giggles, laughing at her own fake ignorance.

Daniel stopped and slowly looked over his shoulder back toward the TV.

Georgie was reaching for the remote, clearly as bored with Skye as he had been with the dancing vegetable.

“Don’t!” Daniel said. “Leave it on a second.”

Georgie blinked up at his older brother, confused.

“Just for a minute, Georgie,” Daniel said. He wanted to be sure.

She laughed again. A high-pitched giggle, vapid and mean.

There it was, the laugh he’d heard just seconds before being pushed off the Tangle Creek Bridge.

Daniel sat at his desk, eyes closed. He needed quiet to think, because that feeling had gotten so strong, that feeling that the clues were all there in front of him, waiting to be unraveled. He just needed to pull the right thread.

Janey Levine, aka Skye, had been at the swimming hole that day when he fell—that was for certain. And he didn’t fall; he’d been pushed. He’d wondered how anyone could have gotten to him up there without flying, but you didn’t need to fly when you could move things with your mind. When you could shove somebody off a bridge with a thought. Then she’d disappeared, almost as if she’d been teleported away.