She actually made me smile, just like a real friend.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, heading toward her locker. “Let me know if I can help—if you need anything.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
The other kids were still looking at me, and paranoia made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Sitting in the auditorium, kids following me to ask me questions—I was way too twitchy to deal with any of it.
I turned and strode off in the other direction. But in the next hall, more kids looked up and, after glancing at one another, started toward me. Then the headhunter turned the corner. He hadn’t seen me yet and was barking at other students. It was only moments before I would come under his fire. This was feeling bad.
I reversed direction quickly and headed down a third hall, and then I saw a door marked Teachers’ Lounge. I’d never been in there. I pushed the door open and ducked in, already preparing my story about being lost.
Still facing the closed door, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Then I turned around, ready to start sucking up to any teacher who might be in here.
There were quite a few teachers here, I observed with surprise. Including a bunch I’d never seen before. One was standing at the front of the room, as if telling a story, and others were grouped at tables. I quickly glanced at their faces, looking for someone I knew. Oh, good, Mr. Lazzara.
But—my heart took a beat and froze.
These were teachers, in the teachers’ lounge.
Why were three of them pulling out Tasers?
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Because they were whitecoat plants, ready to capture a mutant bird kid? I’m just guessing here.
In a split second I opened that door and whirled to run—
—right into the headhunter.
His ugly face split in an unholy grin, and he grabbed both my arms with an iron grip. “Leaving so soon? Surely you’re not tired of our hospitality,” he snarled. He shoved me back into the teachers’ lounge as I wrenched my arms free.
“Why, what’s happening?” Mr. Lazzara asked in surprise.
“Keep away!” one of the other teachers barked at him.
I backed up and looked at the headhunter, disappointed but not surprised to see him pulling a plastic cor
d out of his pocket, no doubt intended for my wrists.
“I always knew there was a reason I hated you,” I said tightly. “Besides just your personality, I mean.” Then I leaped into the air, aiming a kick at his head. I caught him off guard and whipped his head sideways, but he sprang up and came for me. I jumped onto a table, grabbed the light fixture hanging from the ceiling, and swung fast, hard kicks at everyone coming toward me.
Guess what, Voice? I thought. This time I’m believing what I’m seeing.
The headhunter grabbed for me again. “Oh, no you don’t, you wretched little blister,” he spit at me. “You’re my prize, my reward for suffering through day after day of ignorant, pestilent little swine.”
“I miss the gold-watch tradition, myself,” I said, then I spun out of the way, kicking him hard as he lunged for me across the table. He fell and slid sideways, knocking down some other teachers, including the ones with Tasers. Note to self: Crack up later.
Some teachers were huddled against a back wall, looking terrified. Michael Lazzara looked as though he was about to throw himself into the action on the good-guy side. But the bad-guy teachers were closing in on me from all angles, pointing their Tasers at me. I didn’t know who they were or who they worked for, but a good general rule of thumb is to avoid people with electric stun guns.
With a huge jump, I cleared several teachers and crashed through the door into the hallway. I wasn’t sure exactly which classrooms the flock would be in at this time, so I just streaked down the hall, shouting at the top of my lungs.
“Bandada! Bezheet! See-chass! Move, move, move!”
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I ran as fast as I could down both classroom halls, yelling, and saw Nudge and then Fang burst out of their rooms. I felt both frantic and incredibly pissed: Here was the proof I’d needed all along to convince the others to leave before now.
Other kids were streaming into the hallway, wondering what all the commotion was. Angel! Thank God, there she was, racing out of her classroom in front of me. She looked back, nodded, and poured on the speed toward the exit.