Corrupt (Devil's Night 1)

The music pounded, and the thrilled chatter from the other students filled the room.

“Where—oh, there they are!” a girl shouted, and I heard pounding coming from the hallway, sounding like fists beating on lockers, getting closer and closer.

“Let me see!” another student argued, pushing others aside.

A girl popped up on her tiptoes. “Move!” she ordered someone else.

But then everyone suddenly backed up. The doors swung open, and the students fanned out like a ripple in a lake.

“Oh, shit,” I heard a boy whisper.

Slowly, everyone spread out, some falling back into their seats while others remained standing. I gripped my pencil with both hands, my stomach flipping like a roller coaster as I watched them slowly step into the classroom, eerily calm and in no hurry.

They were here. The Four Horsemen.

They were Thunder Bay’s favorite sons, and they’d gone to high school here, graduating when I was a freshman. All four went on to separate universities afterward. They were a few years older, and while not one of them knew I existed, I knew almost everything about them. All four of them stalked slowly into the room, filling the space to where the sun’s rays turned black across the floor.

Damon Torrance, Kai Mori, Will Grayson III, and—I locked my gaze on the blood red mask covering the face of the one always in the lead a little more than the others—Michael Crist, Trevor’s older brother.

He twisted his head left and jerked his chin toward the back of the room. Students turned, watching one of the male students step forward, a smile pulling at his jaw even though he tried to hold it back.

“Kian,” a guy’s humor-filled voice called out, slapping him on the back as he walked past him on his way to the Horsemen. “Have fun. Wear a condom.”

Some students laughed, while a few girls fidgeted nervously, whispering and smiling to each other.

Kian Mathers, a junior like me and one of our school’s best basketball players, stepped up to the guys, the one in the white mask with the red stripe hooking him around the neck and pulling him out the door.

They grabbed another student, Malik Cramer, and the one in the full black mask pulled him out into the hallway, following the other two and probably off to collect more players from other classrooms.

I watched Michael, the way his size had nothing to do with how he filled a room, and I blinked long and hard, feeling the heat flow under my skin.

Everything about the Horsemen made me feel like I was walking a high wire. Cast your balance a hair in the wrong direction or tread too hard—or too softly—and you’d plummet so far off their radar, you’d never reappear.

Their power came from two things: they had followers and they didn’t care. Everyone idolized them, including me.

But as opposed to the other students who had looked up to them, followed them, or fantasized about them, I simply wondered what it would be like to be them. They were untouchable, fascinating, and nothing they ever did was wrong. I wanted that.

I wanted to look down at the sky.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick?” Gabrielle Owens sauntered up, followed by her friend, both of them carrying their books. “We have to go to the nurse. See you Monday!” And then they squeezed between the horsemen, disappearing out the door

I shot my eyes over to the teacher, wondering why he was just letting them leave. They were clearly not going to the nurse. They were leaving with the guys.

But no one—not even Mr. Fitzpatrick—tried challenging them.

The Four Horsemen, not only ruled the student body and the town when they attended school here, but they commanded the court and hardly ever lost in the four years they played.

Since their departure, though, the team had suffered and last year was a humiliating disaster for Thunder Bay. Twelve losses out of twenty games, and everyone had had enough. Something was missing.

I assumed that’s why the horsemen were here now, called back from college for the weekend to inspire the team or do whatever they had to do to pump them up and get them on track before the season started.

And as much as teachers like Fitzpatrick frowned on their hazing, it had certainly helped make the team a unit in their time here. Why not see if it would work again?

“Everyone sit down! You boys move on,” he told the horsemen.

Dropping my head, elation filled my body as my stomach floated up to my chest. I let my eyes fall closed, my head feeling light and high.

Yeah, this is what had been missing.