This choice: Go inside with the others • Go Back...Chapter #45The Fight in the Fuck Room by: Seuzz   You grimace a little in shame. You said you weren't "scared," but maybe you were, a little; and you don't like the way Frank seems to be giving you an out.
Or maybe it’s the truculence you feel flowing out of Tsosie's mask that causes you jog up and fall alongside the others.
"You go in alone while we wait outside the door," the boss is telling Gordon. It looks very risible: Will Prescott, Westside nobody, telling the hulking captain of the basketball team what to do. "Don't fuck around. You're big and she isn't, so get ahold of her and try getting a mask off. If there's no mask, you can explain it all to her later. Either way, we're giving you only about thirty seconds, and then we're coming in." Gordon nods, and you notice he is quite pale.
The way to the gym is clear, but the gym itself is full of students playing ball. "Hey Gordon!" a voice calls, and you look over to see Steve Patterson standing at the sidelines. He gives Black a salacious grin and a thumbs up, but his expression shifts as his eyes fall on the rest of you. You look quickly away, for you don't want to be caught staring back. But the thought can't help forming in your head: It's definitely a trap.
Gordon must have had the same thought, for he pauses with one foot on the bottom stair, and sags. He mutters something when Prescott pokes him in the back, and slowly trudges up.
He taps at the door, and steps through it at the muffled call from within.
"Stay out of the way," Prescott says, and presses you gently into a corner. "I don't want you in the crossfire if we gotta fight anyone." You swallow and nod.
"Guys!" That's Gordon calling from inside.
Almost simultaneously: "The fuck you assholes think you're doing?" That's Patterson, looking up from the bottom of the stairs. There's a hungry look on his face.
"Gordon says it's a party!" Perry says, then he and Prescott duck into the loft. You shrink back into your corner.
Patterson's feet sound loudly on the stairs as he charges up, and he swings hard as he reaches the top, punching you in the stomach and clipping you across the face. The world goes red and black.
"Hey Maize, you playing for the other side now?" The voice is familiar and loathsome: Jason Lynch. Your vision has just begun to clear when another hard fist slams into the side of your face. But you're more prepared now, and lash out with a blow of your own. It connects only glancingly, and Lynch sniggers. "That the best you got?" Another blow sends you to your knees, but you lunge forward, grabbing with both arms at anything you might clasp. You close around hips and legs, and push forward, knocking him down.
"Black! Patterson's face!" That's Prescott calling. "Joe, help out--!"
"Oh, fuck!" That's Jason again. Something kicks you in the jaw, but there's no force behind it, and you grapple harder at him. You feel a rippling motion under your arms, and then Lynch goes stiff all over.
"Get him inside! Prescott, get up!"
You shake the dark clouds from your vision and ignore the sharp, grinding pain in your jaw and cheekbones and gut. You clamber up shakily and stumble into the loft. Someone brushes past you.
You look around. Gordon, his eyes wide, is standing between two figures, and he is almost as white as they are: Steve Patterson and Chelsea Cooper. On the floor is another statute: Jason Lynch. Perry gives you a grim smile, and hands over a mask. You look down at it dumbly: Lynch's name floats over its glowing blue surface. You set it down on a nearby crate, and fight the urge to vomit.
Prescott is on the landing outside the door, peering down the stairwell, his hand cocked. After a few moments, he comes back in and closes the door. "There might be more," he says. "Joe, cover the door, blind anyone who comes in." Perry takes up station with his back to your trio.
"Well, this is a mess," Prescott continues, his hands on his hips. "Not unexpected, though. You did good, Black." Gordon flushes angrily, but Prescott ignores him. "Three catches."
"And you're really happy about it, aren't you, Durras?" Gordon snaps. "If we'd come up here first instead of fucking around--"
But he goes silent as Prescott raises a finger. The entire room goes silent.
It's silent for almost a full minute. You can hear the muffled traffic from outside the windows. No one moves: not Perry, by the door. Not Gordon. Not Prescott. Not yourself. And not the three statues.
"No, I'm not happy," Prescott says quietly. "But we take the hand we're dealt. If we're lucky--" He looks around. "If we're lucky we'll find the Libra up here. If we're extremely lucky, your friends will have been the last victims. And if we're not lucky, we still have to use what we've caught." He kicks at the floor. "I'm not going to order you to do anything, Black. But you see the play." He looks up at Gordon. "Whose mask do we check out from the inside? And who puts it on?"
Gordon glares at the ground.
"Prescott," your twin says. "Let's tear this place apart, find that book."
So you start looking, opening cabinets and crates. You've just begun when Gordon snatches up a mask and lays out on the floor. A moment later, an unconscious Steve Patterson materializes in his place.
Prescott gives him a moment, then crouches by him. He snaps a finger over his nose, and Steve instantly sits up with a snort. "Christ, I was dreaming--" he starts, and stops with a gasp. He groans. "And it wasn't a dream."
"Is the book up here?" Prescott asks.
The other one stares, a blank look on his face.
"Black," Prescott says in a low tone.
"I'm here," Patterson says peevishly. "Just give me a minute to-- The book? Yeah. No, it's not here, but I know where it is." He scrambles to his feet. "I can get it, no problem."
"Joe, go with him," Prescott says. "And you and me," he says to you, "can start getting these other guys undressed. Even with the book back, we'll have to step in for them, so we can start rounding up the rest."
You look over at Chelsea.
But Prescott nudges you. "We'll leave her to Gordon."
* * * * *
Alas, Frank's optimism proves premature. You've only just got Lynch and Patterson divested of their things, and the golems hidden in a corner under a bunch of junk, when the others return. "It wasn't there," Patterson says. He and Perry both look grim.
"What do you mean?" Prescott demands. And then, to your alarm, he clenches a fist, and Perry goes stiff. "Black, get his face off."
"Frank, it's me," Perry says.
"It has to come off anyway, and I wanna be sure."
Perry sighs, and Patterson reaches over to tug the mask off. Joe reappears, and slumps gently to the floor as Prescott relaxes his grip. "What's the story?" he demands again of Steve.
"Chelsea--" He quails a little over the name, then starts again in a firmer voice. "Chelsea told me to put the book and the other stuff in the custodian's closet in B wing. That was after we-- After they changed Jason. That's where Steve put it. But it's not there now."
"So there's another golem in the school. Who?"
"I don't know. There's Steve, Chelsea and Jason. That's all I know."
Prescott shoots you a glance. "If they got your friends, Black--"
"They probably got mine," you say, finishing his thought. By this point--after seeing your brother, and Chelsea and Steve and Jason, and knowing about your parents--it doesn't really hurt when you say it.
"We'll check inside these other two first," Prescott says, indicating Chelsea's and Jason's masks. "We'll check Caleb and Keith out too, if we have to." He drops down next to Joe. "We left Chelsea for you to handle," he says to Patterson over his shoulder as he revives his brother. "You can decide who scopes her out from the inside. It doesn't really matter, otherwise."
You keep your gaze averted as Gordon settles next to his petrified girlfriend, and sidle over to the Durrases. From his backpack Prescott extracts the spell copies you'd retrieved from the elementary school basement. "I want you to go back over to Blackwell's," he tells Joe, and doesn't seem to mind your presence. "You and him work out what this spell does," he says, showing him one of the sheets.
"Do I take Prescott with me?" Joe asks, glancing at you.
"No, we got three people here that need impersonating--"
"Lynch can sit it out," Patterson says from behind you.
Prescott pauses and turns around to stare at Gordon. You do too. "Lynch can sit it out?" your twin asks with slight incredulity.
"You can play Chelsea's part, Durras," he replies quietly. "She's used to being in charge anyway."
Prescott looks at you, and then looks back at Gordon. "Prescott still has to stay with us. We can't raise suspicions by letting one of these guys go missing. They have to think these golems are still in play. If you want me--"
"It doesn't matter," Patterson says gruffly. "I'm just telling you that--" He shrugs.
He's just saying that he's being a team player, it occurs to you, and will accept anyone in Chelsea's mask.
Prescott looks at you, and shrugs as well.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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