Sally Singletary's Curiosity (The Sally Singletary Book 1) (23 page)

Idric was still at the school, although he checked in every evening on a direct chat with Jake or Yasif. He filled them in on the things happening there, which wasn’t much. Lani stopped by from time to time after work to check in on them. Sally sensed she felt guilty over not having gone with them to Mt. Holly—not that there would have been anything she could have done. It would have just been one more person hurt by Sally’s carelessness.

Needing something to do to keep her mind off things, Sally had joined Lani on the evenings she was there in the task of making the switching station more habitable. Even though Lani wasn’t staying with them regularly, the reporter helped out quite a bit. Her boyfriend, Donald, had even dropped off a couch for them to use.

Sally bought some things to put up around the station to make it feel more like home and to distract her from the awful things that had happened.

“You can’t keep moping around the station, you know,” Lani said one evening.

“Sure I can,” Sally replied, not looking up from the book she was reading. “I don’t want any part of this anymore.”

“That’s such a selfish attitude.”

“Selfish?” Sally glanced up.

Lani stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed.

“It’s my fault that Yasif and Idric got hurt. It’s my fault Stephanie lost her arm. It’s my fault Yasif was tortured by Division 51. It’s my fault Mrs. Padilla is dead!” She choked up on the last bit.

Lani shook her head, moving into the room and taking a place next to her on the cot. “None of that is your fault. You’ve held things together beautifully.”

Sally threw her a look.

“You’re one of the most gifted reporters I’ve seen, Sally, and I’ve seen a lot of reporters. You have a knack for getting to the bottom of things, a trait good for both a reporter and an investigator. We have learned so much about these invaders, and I fear if we give up now our situation will get a lot worse.”

“How so?” Sally asked. “We don’t even know what they want.”

Lani cocked her head. “No, but we know they’re here and there are more than just one of them. Whatever these shape-shifter things are, they aren’t friendly, and we can bet Van der Haak is one of them.”

“It’s either that or he controls them,” Sally suggested.

“True.” Lani nodded. “All of these things point to an inevitable truth that whatever the reason they are here, it can’t be good.”

Sally set her book aside. “So let the professionals handle it then. Division 51 is here. They can take care of things.”

“Sally, Division 51 only knows what they know because of you. Bureaucracy and red tape blind them to what’s really happening. They have so many rules to follow; they’ll never get to the bottom of this. You, on the other hand, are free to investigate however you see fit—that’s your strength. If young people could only realize how much potential they have locked up inside, they could run the world. Way too often they discover it only after they’ve been tempered by the rest of society.”

Sally regarded Lani for a moment.

She continued, “Quit with the self-pity; you’re better than this! Stand up for what you know is right. These creatures are going to do something bad, and right now you’re the only one with the tools to stop them.”

Lani’s comment sparked the memory of what Daniel had said in her vision. She’d dismissed it as a random hallucination caused by the stress of her mother’s disappearance and the creature’s attack. But what if it really had been a message? Daniel had said that he and Billy were alive, but she still had no clue where they were. The message certainly couldn’t have come from the real Daniel. Could it? In her vision he’d said he was only a fragment. But what did that mean? He had also said she had all the tools she needed for her quest—what tools did she have? Was she really expected to go up against these things? There were too many questions, too many things to consider; she shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. “I can’t do this.” She sighed.

Lani stood, giving her a resolute gaze. “You may be the only one who can.”

LANI SUGGESTED
that before they decided to face any of the shape-shifters again, they should have some hand-to-hand combat training.

At first, Sally refused, seeing no point in preparing for another interaction when she was adamant she was through with investigating. Still, she felt guilty she wasn’t doing something constructive, so she agreed to help clear a space for the others to train in.

It had taken them nearly three days to dismantle all the old switches and racks, and move them out of the main area, giving them a space the size of a basketball court in which to practice moves and defensive postures.

Lani enlisted the help of her boyfriend—a broad shouldered ex-military man with as many muscles as experience—to teach them some self-defense and basic hand-to-hand fighting skills. Only after persistent nagging from Lani did Sally finally give in and participate in the training sessions with Donald.

By the fourth week, all five were beginning to show signs of improvement. Sally—already familiar with kickboxing techniques from her classes at school—was getting rather good at “foot-to-mouth” combat as she called it. She was, however, lacking in a fistfight. Her mood and demeanor had improved, but still she silently rejected any of the others’ plans for continuing the investigation. Any time they mentioned it, Sally would retreat to her room and read a book.

On top of that, she had yet to confront Yasif about what had happened between them. She’d been avoiding him to the point where he’d been unable to bring it up, and she was still too conflicted to do it herself.

As the days went on, she knew she had to do something to break herself out of the rut she’d found herself in, but had no idea how to accomplish it.

IDRIC WENT TO CLASSES
as normal, forcing himself not to think about all the craziness. He wanted to get back out there, face the shape-shifters, but it seemed Sally had lost her zeal. He was stuck at the school with nothing to do and he hated it every second.

This was hardest when he had to go to math class and endure Mrs. Conley’s teaching, knowing the truth of what she was—although she gave no indication she knew Idric had knowledge of her true form. It might as well have been the real Mrs. Conley. This woman had the same mannerisms, the same personality, and the same grouchy demeanor.

It was in her class a few days later that the intercom came to life. “Idric Xanderberghen, please report to the office. Idric Xanderberghen, please report to the office.” He jumped at the sound of his name.

The entire class turned and stared at him.

He was frozen with fear. Never before had he heard anyone called to the office over the intercom. Notes were sent to teachers, other students sent to retrieve someone if the headmistress needed them, never was someone called in such a public manner. Things had definitely changed.

“What did you do?” a girl next to him whispered.

Idric shrugged as he stood.

As he crossed the commons, he drew stares from the few students milling about. They were just as surprised by the announcement as he was. By the time he’d reached the office, he was shaking with fear.

“Yes, ma’am?” he asked the secretary.

“Hello, Idric,” she replied. “Mrs. Padilla wanted to see you, dear.”

He was too afraid to ask why they’d called him over the intercom. He’d known the risk in coming back to the school, but it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice. If he hadn’t come back, they’d have tried to contact his parents or he’d have been charged with truancy. He’d just have to face whatever was coming.

Sitting in a chair directly across from the headmistress’ office door, Idric felt as if electricity were moving through his body, his nerves filling him with dread. What would he say to her? She already knew he was involved. Would she try to do something to him? Even with his powers growing, he was no match for something that could change shape at will.

Why hadn’t his parents told him the truth? Instead, his mother had recited fairy tales. He’d always thought it was because they were incredibly eccentric about their magic. If she’d just told him how important the stories were, he would’ve paid closer attention. One thing was certain, he couldn’t face things alone.

The door to Mrs. Padilla’s office opened, and he swallowed hard, a lump blocking his attempt. “Mr. Xanderberg? Please come in.” Mrs. Padilla wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t seem angry either.

He stood, his knees not quite cooperating with the rest of his body. He glanced up a time or two as he walked passed into her office. Everything inside was the same as he remembered when he’d first come to the school a year ago—the only other time he had been there. The headmistress closed the door gently and then walked around her desk. The large leather chair creaked and squeaked as she sat. She rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers. “I’m going to ask you some questions, Mr. Xanderberg, and I expect honest answers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Xanderberghen,” Idric squeaked.

The woman looked taken aback. “Pardon?”

“Xanderberghen,” he repeated, a small amount of confidence returning to his voice. “My name is Idric Xanderberghen.” The real Mrs. Padilla would have gotten it right.

She glanced down at a folder just to her left on the desk. “Quite right. I apologize.”

He stared at her nervously, but gave a slight nod.

“Mr. Xanderberghen, it has come to my attention you may have had contact with two of the students involved in the pranks at our school.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” he replied.

“Have you or have you not had contact with Sally Singletary or Yasif Zerriouh in the past two weeks?”

Idric was confused. Was she trying to throw him off or just playing games with him? She had to know he was part of the group. Or do these shape-shifters not talk to one another? Whatever it was that tried to carry him off in Mt. Holly had to be part of the shape-shifter club, so what was the deal?

He glanced from the folder to her face, trying to determine what she was after. “I know who they are. I may have talked to them a time or two.”

“Did you also talk to the reporter who was here on campus?”

“She asked me a few questions,” he said truthfully.

“What kind of questions?”

“The same kind of questions you’re asking me now, except about Billy and the others.” He brought his hands together on his lap to keep them from shaking.

“She didn’t ask you questions about me?” Mrs. Padilla adjusted herself in her chair, straightening her posture.

“Not that I recall.”

“And were you visited by a couple men in black suits?”

“No, but the guy next door was.” He figured offering her a bit of information might help throw her off. “I saw them go in there.”

“When was this, Mr. Xanderberghen?”

He looked up at the ceiling, squinting in thought. “I don’t remember exactly what day, but it wasn’t long after the boys went missing.”

“They didn’t go missing, Mr. Xanderberghen, they left the school on their own choosing,” she corrected.

“Right.” He avoided her eyes. “Sorry, just a lot of people were talking and—”

She interrupted. “I think you’d be wise to pay attention to the monitors for accurate information. We are working hard to make sure these ‘rumors’ don’t persist.”

“Sorry.”

She waved him off. “No need to apologize. I understand how all of this may have upset you. I assure you, we’re doing everything in our power to return the school to normal.”

Normal? There was nothing normal about what was going on in the school. He still couldn’t figure out her angle. Why ask him questions to which she already knew the answers?

Mrs. Padilla stood. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Xanderberghen.”

“That’s it?” He waited for confirmation.

“Is there a reason for me to ask you more questions?”

“No, no!” he said quickly. “I just…I didn’t…I mean, I didn’t know why you called me.”

“We are just trying to figure out how to help you students the best we can.” She smiled. It looked genuine enough, but he couldn’t help but think about what was really lurking behind it.

He stuck his hands into his pockets as he stood, watching her move around her desk out of the corner of his eye. He rushed past when she opened the door, not waiting for her to change her mind.

As he made his way toward the commons, he replayed the whole exchange. He couldn’t say for sure, but he got the feeling she may have gotten more from him than he intended.

THEY HAD NOW BEEN
in the station for nearly two months and still were getting nowhere with the information they had. They were missing something important, and Yasif wasn’t sure what it was. Tensions rose, tempers flared—mostly because they were all tired of having to hoof it down to the truck station each time they needed a shower—and they needed a break from all this madness.

Yasif had never seen Sally so vulnerable. She’d always handled things like a champ. He never imagined her being capable of breaking down under pressure.

Granted, they’d been through a lot. In a small way, it made him feel better to know she wasn’t perfect. Perhaps he’d set unrealistic expectations and that was why things had turned out the way they had. As he watched her now, it was as if he was seeing her—the real Sally—for the first time. He needed something to cheer her up and he knew just the thing.

It was Sally’s birthday—not that she gave any indication she remembered. Since they’d known each other, they’d celebrated their birthdays together. His was only a day after hers, and he wasn’t going to let her mood stop them from celebrating this year. They needed a bit of fun, and he was going to plan a party whether Sally liked it or not.

He arranged everything so it would be a surprise for Sally. He sent Jake to pick up Idric and get supplies and made sure everyone knew what time to be at the station. All Yasif had to do was to figure out how to get Sally out while they decorated.