The School of Revenge Page 5

  “Boy, it was amazing!” Phillip replied.

  Aaron nodded in agreement.

  “See you both tomorrow. Goodnight.” Jeremy turned and left them to file out with the others.

  Outside the library everyone was silent, and no one spoke as bikes were detached from the bike rack, while others made their way to cars.

  Aaron waited until they were a block away from the library before he stopped his bike.

  “What?” Phillip said, slowing down and stopping.

  “I’m not sure I believe what I just saw,” Aaron replied.

  “Yeah, it was unbelievable!” Phillip replied. “Amazing.”

  “They cut off his hand!” Aaron said.

  “It was a trick, it had to be,” Phillip replied.

  “You think the punching was a trick, too?” Aaron asked. “It looked real to me!”

  “Well, it has to look real to work,” Phillip replied. “Otherwise we wouldn’t enjoy it.”

  “But cutting off his hand?” Aaron asked. “It was really disturbed!”

  “Not more disturbing than the head explosions in Fallout,” Phillip replied.

  “That’s a video game!” Aaron replied.

  “Listen, I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Ryan get what he deserved,” Phillip said. “I know you enjoyed at least part of it, too. Don’t lie to me.”

  Aaron had to admit he’d felt something primal and indescribable during the show. Was it really fake, as Phillip suggested? He felt so many strange and unfamiliar emotions in his head he wanted to just stop thinking altogether and call it a night. He started pedaling again, and Aaron kept up with him.

  “So?” Phillip asked.

  “So?” Aaron replied.

  “We’re coming back tomorrow, like the guy asked, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good,” Phillip replied. “Here’s my turn. See you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said, and he stopped his bike to watch his friend pedal down the street away from him.

  He liked it, Aaron thought. Phillip actually liked watching Ryan be tortured by that woman.

  Don’t lie to yourself, he thought. You did too.

  Chapter Five

  The next day at school, Aaron and Phillip spent most of their time during sixth period in the shallow end of the pool, where they felt the most comfortable. Mercifully, they didn’t have to swim with upper classmen, but the good swimmers in their own grade did an adequate job of making their poor swimming abilities a thing of derision.

  “He’s here, at school,” Phillip was saying.

  “Who?” Aaron asked, spitting water.

  “Ryan. I saw him in the hall.”

  “No way. After last night?”

  “I told you it was all fake.”

  Aaron didn’t know if he believed Phillip or not. “Wearing a cast? Something on his hand?”

  “Nope,” Phillip replied. “Looked fine, hand and all.”

  “Huh,” Aaron said, some of the strangeness he’d felt since the previous night seeping away, as though it was rinsing off into the pool. Maybe Phillip was right; maybe it was all just a show.

  “You’ll see at practice,” Phillip. “I’m not lying.”

  They swam a few more laps, practicing the stroke of the day, trying to avoid the obnoxious divers at the other end of the pool who made a show of swimming the entire length and not giving way to anyone in their path.

  Later, at football practice, Aaron changed in the locker room and ran out to the field. As luck would have it, several other guys were on their way out at the same moment. Curtis was one of them. Aaron tried to stay on the other side of the group, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed.

  They had just reached the grass when he felt the obstruction at his ankle, and he stretched out his arms as he fell, hoping to brace himself. There, next to him, Curtis had maneuvered to trip him. He went down.

  Snickers emerged from the group as they continued on without him, leaving him lying face down in the grass. He rolled over, already embarrassed. Above him someone was looking down; he couldn’t make out exactly who it was, since the sun was in his face. A hand extended. He assumed it was Phillip, but when he took the hand he knew it wasn’t his friend; the hand was bigger, and it was cold.

  He felt himself pulled up, and as the angle of the sun changed, he was shocked to see that the person pulling him to his feet was Ryan.

  “You OK?” Ryan asked.

  Weeks of abuse had prepared Aaron for the worst, and he suspected Ryan was about to knock him back down, even though there seemed to be real concern in his voice. He’d experienced the bait before — someone pretending to be nice, who suckered you in, making you think they were friendly, only to do something cruel and mean when your defenses were down.

  “Those guys are jerks,” Ryan said, nodding to Curtis and Dirk, who were already on the ground stretching.

  “Yeah,” Aaron replied, now on his feet and letting go of Ryan’s hand.

  Ryan’s hand…the one they cut off last night.

  Ryan smiled at him and ran onto the field, joining the others in the stretching. Aaron felt Curtis’ eyes on him, having watched the exchange between himself and Ryan. He wondered what Curtis was thinking.

  Maybe seeing the backup quarterback help me up might make him think twice, he thought. Then again, me needing help like that was a sign of weakness. Who knows how he’ll take it. I hope he just leaves me alone.

  The rest of the practice was routine, with coach seeming to have forgotten Friday’s issue with the shirt. Even as he concentrated on the scrimmage, he couldn’t shake the feeling of Ryan’s cold hand in his — it felt so odd. Not to mention how bizarre it was that Ryan was helping him — he’d smirked and pushed him just three days ago. He kept track of Ryan throughout the practice, and noticed that his accuracy was way off; coach had called him to the sidelines more than once, and one pass was so ridiculously bad the coach threw down a clipboard he was holding and began to yell.

  At the end of practice, Aaron and Phillip always let the others run off the field first. They walked to the locker room together.

  “See, told you so,” Phillip said. “Ryan’s fine.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron replied. “I guess you were right. Did you see him help me up after Curtis tripped me?”

  “Maybe he’s learned a lesson. Maybe whatever happened to him last night changed him. It sure made Curtis and Dirk back off.”

  As he entered the locker room and got dressed, he realized that he’d had the first football practice that was somewhat fun and not completely filled with anxiety.

  I guess I’ve got the School to thank for that, he thought.

  —

  “You’re not doing it right!” Phillip said, pointing to the shiny round disc in Aaron’s hand. “You’re tilting it the wrong way!”

  Aaron stood at the intersection of two residential streets in their neighborhood, looking down at the device in his hands, trying to make it work the way he’d been shown back at the library. The device was like a small Frisbee, but solid and made of chrome. Reflections around the outer edge of it slid right and left, adjusting as he turned his body.

  Phillip was at his side, holding a stack of flyers. They were on recruitment duty.

  “They move with the slightest touch,” Aaron said, concentrating, trying to get a read on one of the reflections and react to it.

  “Which one are you picking?” Phillip said. “There’s so many, I can’t tell which one you’re working on!”

  “That one,” Aaron replied, pointing with his nose. “It’s the clearest.” He tilted the disc, centering it on the reflection he’d identified, and began to walk, making sure the spot on the disc stayed at the upper edge, like a needle on a compass.

  “This is so weird,” Aaron muttered.

  “I think it’s kind of fun,” Phillip replied. “It’s like a treasure hunt.”

  “Except the treasure is people,” Aaron said, not taking his eyes off the disc as they walked down th
e sidewalk. “It’s like were missionaries or something.”

  “As Benjamin said, we’re paying it forward,” Phillip replied. “We were helped, now we’re helping someone else.”

  “Helped,” Aaron repeated. “Funny way to think of it. What did she call it?”

  “What did who call what?”

  “Madame Pritchard,” Aaron answered. “Just before she laid into him, she said he was guilty of bullying and all that, and then she said some word I hadn’t heard before.”

  “Exactation,” Phillip replied.

  “Yeah, that was it. What does it mean?”

  “I wondered that myself,” Phillip answered, “so I looked it up. It doesn’t exist.”

  “Some word she made up?”

  “I think it’s a play on ‘exact,’ you know, to exact revenge…she was exacting revenge upon Ryan, so they apparently call it an exactation.”

  “You can do that? Just make up words?”

  “Sure, people do it all the time.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Just imagine Curtis or Dirk up on that stage getting exacted,” Phillip said. “That’ll keep you motivated.”

  The idea of seeing Curtis treated as Ryan had been, made to pay for the way he’d bullied him the past few weeks, seemed wonderful. If they could recruit someone tonight, Benjamin said that their requests for revenge would move up the list.

  “Here,” Aaron said, stopping in front of a two-story home. They walked around the front of it, looking for an open window.

  “There’s nowhere to throw it,” Phillip said.

  “I don’t understand why we can’t just leave a flyer on the doorstep,” Aaron muttered.

  “Can you imagine if your mom had found it before you did?” Phillip replied. “She would have banned you from going! Benjamin said we can only throw it into the window of the identified!”

  “Well, whoever this has identified, I can’t see any way to get the flyer into their room,” Aaron said, lowering the disc, frustrated.

  “Then we keep going,” Phillip replied, “like Benjamin told us to do. It’s a numbers game. We have to keep looking until we can deliver at least one flyer the right way.”

  Aaron sighed and raised the disc again. Reflections along its edge slid back and forth. He looked for the one that appeared the strongest, and centered in on it.

  “Back this way,” Aaron said, turning. They walked a couple of blocks before Aaron stopped again.

  It was an apartment building, three stories high. There was a window open on the top floor, but it was far too high for Phillip to toss a flyer into.

  “Maybe you could make a paper airplane,” Aaron said sarcastically. “That might reach up there.”

  “Benjamin said it had to be balled up,” Phillip replied. “Or else it won’t hold the powder.”

  “What is that stuff?” Aaron asked. “I noticed it when they came in my window.”

  Phillip pulled the small vial of white powder from his pocket. “No idea,” he said, holding it up for them to see. “Looks like white sand.”

  “Why would we have to put that onto the paper before we toss it through someone’s window?” Aaron asked. “It’s a little weird.”

  “Frankly, I don’t care what it is,” Phillip replied. “As long as I get to see Curtis and Dirk on that stage, I’ll be fine. You should feel the same way, too. They’ve been far meaner to you than to me.”

  Aaron picked another of the reflections on the disc and they started walking again.

  “Believe me, I’d love to see Curtis get what’s coming to him,” Aaron said. “He’s been such a prick.”

  “I wonder what she’ll do to him?” Phillip said. “I wonder if she ever lets people from the school do the punishing? I’d volunteer to cut the guy’s dick off, no problem.”

  “Geez!” Aaron sighed. “That’s so disgusting!”

  Phillip stopped him. “You’re going to tell me you haven’t dreamed about doing it?”

  “Cutting his dick off? No!”

  “Well, doing something else then,” Phillip said. “Punching him in the gut? Making him eat shit? Something like that? Don’t lie to me.”

  Aaron looked at his friend. He pressed his lips together, not wanting to admit that he had.

  “That’s what I thought,” Phillip said, turning to continue walking. “Where’s our next stop?”

  Aaron led them to a house another block away. This one was all ground level. They snuck around the back of the house, where a bedroom window was open a crack.

  “That’s it,” Aaron said, nodding at the open window. “Whoever it is, they’re in there.”

  Phillip knelt down, taking a flyer from the top of his stack. He removed the vial from his pocket and tapped a few grains of it onto the surface of the flyer, then wadded it into a ball, taking care to make sure the powder stayed inside the flyer. Once he was done, they snuck up to the open window, and Phillip tossed it inside.

  “Wha?” they heard from the window, and Aaron realized if the room’s occupant came to check, they’d both be caught. Aaron ran to stand under the window, pressing his body up against the side of the house. Phillip joined him, and they waited silently.

  Aaron could hear the window open more above them. He looked up; a face appeared, glancing out into the back yard.

  If he looks down, he’ll see us for sure! Aaron thought, unconsciously holding his breath.

  The kid’s face turned left and right, scanning the yard. When he was satisfied that no one was there, his head went back inside the house.

  Aaron felt Phillip exhale at the same time he did. “Come on!” he whispered. “Let’s sneak out of here!”

  They hugged the side of the house as they made their way out of the back yard, and were soon walking back down the street, trying to act casual.

  “Yes!” Phillip said. “We did it! I know that kid, too. His name is Johnathan Woulk.”

  “He has to come to the introductory meeting for it to count,” Aaron replied.

  “He’ll come,” Phillip replied. “He’s a total dork. He gets beat up all the time.”

  Aaron looked down at the disc in his hand. How did it know to target Johnathan? He imagined someone hiding just under his bedroom window a week ago, using a similar device to target him and Phillip. He wondered who had thrown the flyer into his window.

  Maybe someone who had been bullied by Ryan, he thought. And for recruiting me and Phillip, he got his wish of seeing Ryan pay.

  “Come on,” Phillip said. “Let’s report back to Benjamin. I want to get in some Assassin’s Creed before the night is over.”

  They made their way back to Phillip’s house, where they’d left their bikes, and pedaled to the library to return the equipment. When they walked inside, Jeremy met them.

  “Any luck?”

  “Benjamin here?” Phillip asked.

  “He’s busy,” Jeremy said. “I can take your report.”

  Phillip looked at Aaron. Aaron knew he wanted to speak directly with Benjamin, since it had been Benjamin who had trained them on the steps to perform, and it had been Benjamin who had promised them to accelerate their revenge request if they were successful.

  “We landed one, yeah,” Phillip said.

  “Name?”

  “Johnathan Woulk,” Phillip replied. “He’s a year younger than us. I think.”

  “Good,” Jeremy replied, taking the disc and the flyers. He motioned for Phillip to hand over the vial. “You remembered to apply some of the salt to the flyer before you threw it in?”

  “Is that what it is?” Aaron asked. “Salt?”

  “No,” Jeremy replied, taking the vial from Phillip. “That’s just slang. Some of us call it salt. Don’t taste it, whatever you do!” He laughed.

  “What is it, exactly?” Aaron asked.

  “That’s a secret reserved for students who are a little more advanced than you,” Jeremy replied. “You both have more to prove before we’d share that kind of information with you.”r />
  “We have to recruit more people?” Phillip asked. “We got Johnathan. We should have our requests accelerated. Benjamin said…”

  Jeremy cut him off. “Until your recruit becomes a student, it doesn’t mean shit. You’re still on probation. Keep up the good work, though, and you’ll rise soon enough. Me, I recruited four guys before they let me move up. Now I know almost as much as Benjamin. You keep at it, you’ll get there, too.”

  “Have you ever met Madame Pritchard?” Aaron asked.

  Jeremy smiled. “Only people in the inner circle get to learn directly from her. If you’re lucky, you might get to learn from someone like Herrod. He’s who I learned from. Now, time for you to go home. I’ll submit this information to the school, and we’ll see if your recruit shows up tomorrow night. You’ll both want to be here for the meeting after, by the way.”

  “Why?” Phillip asked.

  “There will be another exactation. It’s the payoff for everything we do in the School, so don’t miss it.”

  “It’ll be like Ryan?” Aaron asked.

  “I hope so,” Jeremy replied. “It was awesome watching his hand come off.” He smiled at them.

  Chapter Six

  Aaron found himself unusually emboldened at school the next day. Realizing what had happened to Ryan, and that he was part of a secret organization that was about to deliver another round of justice to some deserving asshole later that evening, made him feel strong, like he could take on any of the bullies at school, and succeed.

  It was a premature supposition.

  Tryouts for the team were going to be held in a couple of days, and Curtis had doubled his efforts to get him to quit. He targeted him twice in the hallway between classes, Dirk pinning him against the wall while Curtis made fun of his name and punched at him. Both times they’d managed to stop and move on before hall monitors had seen them, and Aaron felt, once again, that the justice promised by society was a fleeting thing, not evenly metered or applied. The abusive and the mean seemed to get off scot-free.

  Still, he countered his embarrassment and humiliation with his knowledge that Curtis and Dirk weren’t invincible. They were on the list. If he kept up with the School, they might be repaid.