Waking Dead Things

Chapter 3

Chapter 3October 13th, Later

I bicycled through town figuring that the main roads would have less chance of ice. As I passed the hotel and was about to turn the corner I looked back and saw three people wearing expensive red suits with black shirts. The Inquisition. I saw Lockwood clearly leading the way to the black and red SUV parked nearby. I only saw him for a second and then I was around the corner and thankfully out of sight. Even though I've only met him three times in my life I had no trouble recognizing him. Actually, it must be four times. Mom said he came after I was born, but that’s the only visit I don’t remember.. I remember him coming a couple days after my fourth birthday and then again after my eighth and twelfth birthdays. Lockwood is the perfect Inquisitor. If he was an actor he could give Tom Cruise a run for his money, as far as looks. I suspect that he'd be a better actor. He's charming and seems to care but his job is to decide if I need to be hauled off and have part of my brain burned out. Someone who can seem so sincere while they're trying to decide something so grisly could easily win an Oscar.

I felt like stopping and catching my breath but instead I pushed harder on the pedals. I wanted to get to school for once. Anything rather than being caught out in the open. He hadn't come to the school, on the other visits.

To most people the Inquisitors are like fire fighters crossed with secret agents. They've got the gadgets, they travel the world and they put out fires of a different sort. You've got someone in your community setting fires with their mind? Call the Inquisition. They'll come in and sort out the person. It doesn't matter what the witch can do — the Inquisition will take care of the problem. And they come across as compassionate. Their mission, they claim, is to cure witches. To remove that quirk that gives them their dangerous abilities and then set them free. That is, if they don't face any other legal charges. If you commit a crime with those sorts of abilities you face not only having part of your brain burned out but also punishment for the crimes. And the courts love to give maximum sentences to someone who deliberately used such powers to commit crimes. Bottom line, it's no safer for so-called witches today than it was in the Fifteenth century.

I felt better when I saw the school ahead and slowed down so I'd have a chance to catch my breath. I didn't want to show up all huffing and puffing.

As it turned out I was ten minutes early. I must have really been moving. I saw Trisha in the courtyard as I coasted in and waved. She waved back and walked over with small mincing steps thanks to a tight skirt and tall heels. Not exactly the sort of outfit most could pull off but it looked good on her. It had to drive the guys crazy, not that Trisha cared since she was a lesbian.

"Hey babe," she said. "You're riding in this cold?"

"Look who’s talking. That isn't exactly a wintry outfit you've got on."

Her golden curls bounced as she laughed. "You like?"

"It's great but it looks cold." I finished locking my bike and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

"It is. Let's get inside." Trisha grabbed my arm and tugged me towards the door.

I was glad to get inside, stripping off my gloves as we walked through the crowded halls towards my locker. Trisha kept going on about some girl that she'd seen at a math club competition. That's right. Trisha and I have been friends for years. The computer geek and math geek. Trisha likes to say that we're doing our part to redefine geeks as hot and sexy. I'm not sure about my contribution to the cause but Trisha does have that role down just fine. She says I'm gorgeous, that if I wasn't straight she'd be all over me. I'm flattered, I guess, but I just don't put the effort into it that she does. I will for a special occasion, like a dance or something, but not every day. At that moment, though, I wasn't really listening to Trisha. I was thinking about mister tall, dark and dangerous that I had seen outside the hotel. Trisha knew me well enough to pick up on that.

"Hello? Ravyn? Sweetie? Are you listening to me?"

A fly buzzed in front of my face at that moment. I jumped back with an embarrassing girlish shriek and swatted at the bug. It easily dodged my hand and buzzed off into the crowd.

"Uh oh, break out the fly swatters."

"Very funny. You know I have a thing about them."

"Yeah, I do, and that's what's funny. You weren't listening to me."

I took the books for first period and closed my locker. "Sorry. I was thinking about something else. This girl, what's her name?"

Trisha sighed. "Crystal something or another. She goes to Lincoln, a Junior."

"An older woman, how exciting."

"Nope. Actually she's a year younger than us. She home schooled until high school and skipped a couple grades."

"And she's a babe?"

Trisha's eyes widened and she bit her lip as she nodded.

I started down the hall with Trisha beside me. "So? Are you going to ask her out?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know if she's straight or not. She could be like you — delicious but unattainable. At least until you decide to experiment someday."

I laughed. "That's going to be the day after never. Sorry. But you shouldn't worry about that. You ask her out for coffee or something. You've got the whole math geek thing in common. I'm not suggesting you just jump on her."

"Can't I?"

"Coffee first. See how she reacts. You know what to look for."

Another fly or the same one picked that moment to dive bomb my head. I shrieked again — I really hate doing that — and dropped my books as I ducked and tried to cover my head. Okay, I know it is silly but I can't stand flies. I don't know how anyone can tolerate them. I know the types of places that flies like to hang out and anything that has been in those places I don't want touching me. Thank you.

People around me laughed. I looked up and glared at Trisha since she was one of those laughing. She clamped her lips together.

"Hey Ravyn. Is that fly bothering you?" Pete Calkins stood over me. Our six foot six inches tall and nearly as wide football player. He followed the fly with his eyes and lifted his hand.

I stood up. "No, Pete, really —"

His thick hand darted out with surprising quickness and engulfed the unfortunate fly. "Squishy."

He flicked his hand and the fly splatted against one of the nearby lockers. It was gross. He reached out and I jerked my arm up and away.

"That's really sick Pete. Promise me you're going to wash that hand?"

He rubbed it on his jeans. "No problem. It was just a fly. Have a nice day."

I gave him plenty of space as he lumbered past. Didn't he realize where that fly had been? I wanted to go after him and drag him to a bathroom to wash his hand but that plan had several flaws. One, I couldn't drag him anywhere if my life depended on it. Two, going into a bathroom with him wouldn't help my reputation at all. And three, I didn't want to be anywhere close to him. I looked at Trisha.

"Let's get to class."

She touched my arm and pointed at the locker. "Look. It isn't dead. Poor thing."

I looked and felt goose bumps march up my arms. The fly was stuck to the locker still but one wing was buzzing away. I could see a couple hairy legs twitching. I knew that those horrid compound eyes were looking at me. The only thing holding it to the locker was the fact that its guts were smashed out and sticking it there. What if it got free? It couldn't fly, I was sure. Not in the condition it was in but it might crawl towards me.

"Now. We're going."

We hadn't gone more than a couple yards when another fly buzzed past me. I jerked away and it circled back for another pass. I swung my book at it and nearly hit Trisha. I suddenly had the irrational fear that it was the same fly that Pete had squished on the locker. It was flying around with its nasty guts hanging out. Then a second fly buzzed past and third. Other students noticed the flies now and thankfully I wasn't the only one that was crying out when they came close now. I heard a couple other screams. It was crazy. I know that, but I can't stand flies. Some people are afraid of spiders or snakes or whatever. For me it is flies. It's like they know it too because they always seem to want to fly around me. As I looked around I saw that there were a lot more than a few flies. They buzzed by several at a time but I also saw them on the lockers, walls and the ceiling. A swarm of flies.

The bell sounded then and the kids started streaming out of the hall. Some of the guys started smashing the flies with their text books against the lockers so the clanging crashes accompanied our retreat to the classrooms. I shuddered thinking about those flies smeared all over the books. If it were me I'd be tempted to burn the book. Or at least strip the jacket off and burn that.

First period is French with Monsieur Dubois. It's a small class. Spanish and Japanese are the popular classes to take. I tried to get into the Spanish class but I got my registration form submitted too late and it was already filled. Japanese looks too hard. At least with French I've got essentially the same alphabet and even some words are the same. Très Bien, I say. The flies hadn't made it into the classroom but that's all anyone was talking about. Vu Nguyen was happily showing off his fly splattered notebook. It sounded like the guys were competing over who had managed to smash the greatest number of flies.

Monsieur Dubois is a small neat man who always wears a suit to work. A lot of the younger teachers don't. He also doesn't let you call him by his first name. The kids still like him though. He's one of those tough but fair teachers. The sort that they make movies like Stand and Deliver about. He doesn't try to be your friend and he sets high expectations. He clapped his hands.

"Bien, bien. Congratulations on your magnificent defense against the flies. Maintenant, si je pouvais avoir votre attention, nous commencerons classe."

The door opened then and Logan Foster strolled into the class. I saw a couple flies go by the door as he entered but none followed him in. I breathed easier. Logan's easy on the eyes, I think. He's tall but not freakishly so. The sort of tall that you'd have to lift up your heels just a bit to kiss without standing on your tippy toes. Trisha poked me in the back. I looked back at her and mouthed “what?”

She wiggled an eyebrow in Logan's direction as he took his seat under Monsieur Dubois' patient gaze.

I shook my head and opened my book while stealing another glance at Logan. I'm not sure what I like about him, beside the height and the fact that he's in good shape. I like his biceps, I guess. But he's eye candy, not someone I would date. He transferred in at the end of last year and is on the track team. There's something about him, though, that I just don't trust. The other kids seem to like him but I can't get over the fact that he makes my skin crawl and not in a good way. I don't think.

"If we can possibly begin class now?"

The P.A. system blared to life cutting Monsieur Dubois off. "Attention everyone."

Monsieur Dubois rolled his eyes and smiled at the classroom. Chuckles spread around the room. Our Principal is named Skinner, poor man. He must have hated it when The Simpsons came on the air.

"Attention," Skinner continued. "I have an important announcement regarding the appearance of a number of flies in the main corridor before class this morning."

That actually got my attention.

"Our facilities maintenance staff informs me that the flies originated from a rodent that died in the ventilation system."

"Cool," Mark said and earned a glare from Monsieur Dubois.

"Despite this incident we have determined that there is no health risk at this time. The remains have been eradicated and the flies will be eliminated. In the meantime I ask that everyone refrain from smashing flies on the lockers. Anyone caught taking this matter into their own hands will get detention and spend the time cleaning the hallways. Thank you for your attention."

The P.A. squawked off. Monsieur Dubois gestured for quiet.

"Bien. Now we will continue with the lesson of today. Please, if you will all turn to page 126, Chapter 6 of your text books."