“For the smartband, I already answered that. Prefer anonymity. And as for who I am, I’m your Science History teacher.”
Thump, thump! Feet clattered and there was a rustle of leaves. Had they found us already?
“Stay down, Raek!” Professor Fitz commanded. Scowling, he rose to his knees and crawled to one of the dirty glass windows with a view outside. Careful to not make a peep, he peered out.
SLAM.
My heart skipped a beat.
9
Flushing
“I’ll be damned.” He chuckled. “Never thought they’d come here.”
“What? Who?”
“Students.” He shook his head with a smile. “Don’t they know there’s no school when cops are tearing apart their town.”
I shuffled over to look. Basketball. It’d been forever since I played.
Why was Fitz helping me? Something told me I could trust him... “So, what’s our plan? How do we find my family?”
“I don’t have a plan,” Fitz answered. “Only to get you out of here and keep you safe. For now, we need to forget about your family. Hopefully they got away.”
Forget about them? I couldn’t, but now wasn’t the time. “What about the rebels, the Resistance? They could help.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he replied. “They’ve had their share of leaks. Some want to take advantage of you. The first mixed-breed human… imagine the implications, breaking the GDR’s propaganda.”
Even the Resistance? “Are you saying they can’t help me? Am I better off alone?” Fear gripped me. Alone...
“You’re not alone, I’m here with you.” His huge hand squeezed my shoulder. “I won’t abandon you, son.” There was deep-seated pain in his eyes as he said it. “We should go inland, away from the towns and big cities, somewhere levs don’t go. The further we are from the DNS and the rebels, the better.”
“You’ll come with me?” I felt pathetic saying it, but I needed him.
He smiled. “Yes. We should go tonight, though. The longer we wait, the riskier it is. And son,” he added, expression softening, “you’ll need to tell me what actually happened in the forest eventually. Okay?”
I nodded. Could I really leave? At least I wouldn’t be alone.
An hour later, Professor Fitz said we should get some sleep. He went to his classroom and returned with two, quarter centimeter thick sleeping pads and a tough brown backpack. Setting the bag on the floor, he spread the blue mats—some nano-layered pressure-distributing deal for a “lighter-than-air sleep”—a meter apart. “That one’s yours.” He pointed where I was sitting.
“I could never afford this,” I stammered.
“It’s yours, consider it a gift.” He paused. “Let’s see, sun will start to set in…” he checked his watch. Wow, a watch? “Five hours. Gives us four hours to sleep and an hour to get ready.”
Rummaging through his bag, he grabbed a pistol-shaped gray device. “Oh, I forgot about this!”
“What’s that?”
He flipped a switch and pointed it toward me. “A connectivity sensor.” He sounded like a teacher as he moved it up and down my body. “Senses full-spectrum radiation to make sure we’re not emitting any trackable digital signatures.”
It beeped, twice.
“Shit!” he said. “Your band, quick, take it off!”
What why? He snatched my wrist. “Raek, they can track that. They probably know you’re here. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? Hurry.”
My fingers slipped as I ripped at the band and he said, “Quick, the bathroom. Flush it. We have to hope it goes through the pipes and still sends a signal.”
I sprinted upstairs and into the bathroom, past the smaller stall doors and to the ‘mega-toilet’ as we called it. Myrtha had quite the rear end. The extra flush power would help here. Throwing the band in, I made a peace sign. The toilet registered a number two flush and swirling water vortexed downward, filling the bowl. My band disappeared into the bottomless pit.
Stay down, stay down... That would be awful, grabbing it out of that sinkhole to try again.
After a minute, it was gone for good. Phew. I raced back, taking the steps two at a time. Professor Fitz was at the window.
“Shhh… Quiet, Raek. Cops.”
I hurried over. Sure enough, ten cops huddled by the entrance. One was off to the side, waving busy hands and talking to a holo. It was hard to make out what they were saying because a VTOL took off somewhere nearby. They weren’t the quietest but had pretty much replaced all other aircraft since they could take off or land anywhere, hence the name, VTOL—vertical takeoff and landing.
I’d never seen a real VTOL, only holos of military ones laying waste to whole towns.
The holographic officer threw up his hands. Something was happening. A map appeared.
Fitz tapped my shoulder. “We need to go, son. Now!” We ran upstairs to the other side of the building. Officers there too.
A VTOL landed and Fitz reached into his bag, grabbing two blasters.
“Know how to use these?” he asked.
I shook my head. He clicked a few buttons and handed it to me. Holy crap, a blaster... “Press your finger here. Good, now it’s locked to you. Here’s the trigger. Point and shoot. Follow my lead. Shoot anyone that comes in.”
We continued down the hallway, guns in hand, until a blast shook the building. “That will be the front door,” he murmured. “Hurry. We’ll hide in my classroom.”
Boots clattered on the stairs. “Spread out!” someone yelled. “Remember, boys, capture if you can, kill if you must. This kid doesn’t make it out!”
Kill…?
A flurry of, “Sir, yes, sir!”
Professor Fitz looked at me. “Raek, are you a cynetic?”
“Yeah. I think so.” But how’d he know?
“Good, that will help.” He inched his door open and we slipped in. “You should be able to handle a few, right?”
Um… I flushed. “I’m not sure how to activate things. Last time, I got lucky.”
He swallowed hard. “Oh!” Gritting his teeth, he turned over his desk and arranged it in the corner. “Your sleeping mat!”
I threw it to him. He draped it over the table. “These aren’t only comfy, they absorb impact too. Do the same thing, far corner.”
I imitated him, but with a thud. Shoot, did they hear that?
“When they come in, open fire. They might throw micronades or something bigger. Stay calm and keep shooting.”
Something bigger? “Okay.”
The noises were louder now, a weighty echo pounding the halls. They’d covered most of the school already. We were running out of time.
“Any other tricks up your sleeve?” I asked. He had to have something...
“Afraid not. We’ll have to—”
A scraping outside the door.
We exchanged a glance. This was it. At least we’d go out with a bang.
Sorry, Mom.
A handle creaked.
10