The Unfortunate Story of Roddy Mayhem by Julie Steimle (free e reader .TXT) 📖

understand. Some long horned imps had infiltrated the school. I know them. They’re Dervish’s.”

My eyes widened, I sat up. “What?”

“They’re the ones who said they got you to leave the school.” His eyes, I realized now, looked red. Had Spastic been crying? “They were sent to get you out so Dervish could kill you.”

I felt sick. And worse, it all made sense. All the destroying angels that were following me. They were waiting for when I would be ambushed. And Carlos’s warning to not leave the school. I did have a near scrape with death. I asked Spastic, “Did Dervish escape prison?”

Spastic shook his head. “No. Mutton did. And I think Thug got out also. The imps with the horns said they’re looking for this school.”

I rose to my feet. “Did you tell Mr. Wilderman?”

He nodded. “Yeah. With Col. Jefferson. Then the dude ran off to, I dunno, CIA attack their butts.”

“If they can find them,” I muttered, slumping against the bed again. Mutton and Thug were just as able to cause havoc as the rest of us. More really. I was sure they had killed before.

“But why did you listen to those long horned imps?” Spastic snapped at me. “You knew they are bad!” He then eyed over my horns. “Yours haven’t gotten longer. What have you been up to?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “What have I been up to? What have you been up to? You smell like bleach.”

His face clouded over. He said in a whisper, “We were cleaning the bathroom in Valhalla.”

The image of the blood flashed through my mind again. I felt sick.

Spastic’s arms immediately wrapped around me, hugging me tight. “Don’t leave us, Roddy. You’re my only brother.”

Brother.

I looked to Spastic… and realized what an idiot I was. Leaving him? Now? It was the cruelest, most selfish thing I had ever done. Why had I not seen it? He was happy-go-lucky because he wasn’t alone. Me leaving… what would that have done to him?

I hugged him back. “But I’m back now.”

He clocked me on the head. “Don’t do that again.”

I nodded, painfully rubbing one of my horns. He massaged his fist, where it had made contact with the hard material.

Yeah… I would not run again. It was stupid.

Piranha later showed up. She glared at me, but she also hugged me.

“Run away again, and I’ll chop off your wings,” she hissed in my ear.

For a second I peered at her, not sure if she meant it. Then, taking in her bloodshot eyes also, I said, “Liar.”

“Fine.” But she slapped my face. “But I will hunt you down and kick the crap out of you if you do it again.”

I smiled at that, rubbing my cheek.

We didn’t say much to each other after that—not about what had happened at least. All three of us hung around the room, ditching the rest of our classes. Spastic read aloud from my comic book, and Piranha and I acted out the battle in the story. I, of course, was Hellboy. Piranha played everyone else, making voices. She insisted.

Morgan showed up around dinner time and stared at the three of us. He raised both of his hands and said, “I come in peace. I just need to get stuff.”

We stepped back and let him through.

And he maneuvered his way into the room, Morgan said to Piranha, “Those West End guys are looking for you downstairs again.”

Piranha groaned, hanging her shoulders. “I told them I needed time to make up my mind.”

She walked out of the room, dragging her feet. Spastic and I followed her, both of us devastated she was going.

“So you are really thinking about leaving us?” Spastic asked, paler than usual. I guess he was losing a sister in this case. I could not blame him I felt mostly the same.

Turning, sorrow on her face for having to grieve us after what had happened to Wispy, Piranha gazed at Spastic. She set her hand on his shoulder and held him by the neck as if she wanted to shake him. But she said, “I don’t want to leave you. But there is nothing for me here.”

I felt sick.

Her eyes turned to me. “I mean, no future. They’re right. I only have one year of school before I will have to go out into the world again. And to what? I can hardly read. What kind of job could I possibly get?”

“But to train to be CIA?” I gaped at her.

“Your idol, Tom, is CIA,” she said.

My idol? I didn’t idolize Tom Brown. I mean, yeah he was cool and all. And he talked to me like a person. But if I ever idolized anyone, it was Piranha. And I said, so. “You’re my idol.”

She blinked at me, surprised. However, I could see in her eyes she was serious when she said all that. And I had to think about it. She had to make the hard choice.

“What about Wipsy?” I said, almost whispering it. “You’re her best friend.”

Piranha chuckled, shaking her head. “No. Jester was. That is… until she saw you.”

My face immediately felt hot.

Reaching her arms around me, Piranha hugged me. “Take care of her. She needs you. You need to be her guardian now.”

“But what if Jester comes for her?” I asked.

Cringing, Piranha said, “Then protect her from him.”

I knew then all which that implied. I had been right. Jester also had messed with her. I was so angry, I wanted to punch his face. I hoped he was still stuck in prison.

“I’m joining the CIA to protect you all,” she whispered.

“Don’t trust them,” I hissed back.

“Why are we whispering?” Spastic asked, leaning in towards us also.

Piranha laughed. She looked to the ceiling where I saw a sprinkler head. “I dunno. Maybe because I figured we were being watched.”

Through a sprinkler head? The security camera was further down the hall.

She turned and headed to the stairs to go down. We followed her. I was hungry and I think so was Spastic.

She was probably right, too. I would not be surprised if the entire school was full of security cameras. I’d seen them here and there. Though, thinking about it, it could not entirely be the case if Sean actually thought stashing stuff in Spastic’s bed would be believed—if we were being watched. I mean, film footage in classrooms of my supposed shenanigans would be enough evidence for Mr. Wilderman, and they would have just called for them to prove my innocence. She probably was just being paranoid. The cameras were probably on the outside and in the entrances.

Those from West End eyed all three of us over the second Piranha arrived at the bottom floor, but they only spoke to Piranha. “Have you made up your mind yet?”

“I’m still thinking on it,” Piranha said with bite. She put an arm around me. “I have to stay here and support my friend during his hearing—which I’m sure you’ve heard about.”

They eyeballed me, nodding. Their necks were stiff as they eyed me over. But they still only talked to her. “Very well. Will you give you decision after the trial?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

We then walked together to the cafeteria where Spastic and Piranha made sure I ate a full meal. Quinn sat with us, just watching me.

“He’s psychic, you know,” Spastic finally said to me.

I stared at him. “What?”

“Quinn,” Spastic said. “He can use his mind to communicate—as his language is all backward. But, uh… it kind of freaks people out. That’s why he hasn’t tried it with you.”

I stared back at Quinn. “Say something.”

Grinning now, Quinn’s voice resonated in my brain on a wavelength not too dissimilar from an imp’s voice. “I know you didn’t hurt Lorelei or attack those girls.”

I stared back, amazed. Then I looked to Spastic. “Is this how you understand him?”

Spastic shook his head, grinning widely. “No. I just love talking backward with him. Try it.”

I angled my head and said, “Manage can I think I but, difficult little a is it.”

Quinn laughed out loud, clapping.

“I figured it out,” Spastic said to me. “He’s not unlike us.”

“Half-imp?” I looked eagerly to Quinn.

The guy shook his head and mentally said, “No. I am imp-ish. My mother had an affair and covered it up. I look so much like my brothers and sisters that Dad didn’t notice except that… well, look at my eyes.”

I did, Spastic grinning with giggles. Quinn’s eyes were a toasty brown. But as I peered in, I could detect flecks of orange. He was part imp, alright. But not the same as us. I guessed, a quarter imp. His hair was a normal human shade.

“I am sure you have guessed it.” Quinn chuckled. “I’ve got no wings and no horns, but… I can hear the whispers of temptations people have. And my telepathy, it developed as my language broke. I used to be able to speak in forward sentences, but my mom, when she realized I was not Dad’s kid, tried to beat ‘the devil’ out of me.”

“No way.” I recoiled, thinking how awful. At least my mother merely abandoned me.

He nodded. “My ‘dad’ still doesn’t know. But he is ashamed of me. They sent me here when my language broke. I was supposed to get it fixed here, but I don’t want to go back now that I know what my birth father really was. He was half imp like you.” Then he said out loud, “Yoda me call sister and brothers my.”

Huh.

“He can see the imps,” Spastic said, smirking.

“Ghosts like,” Quinn said with a shrug.

“But no wings?” I gazed sadly on him.

Quinn lifted his shirt. There was a scar where it looked like something had been cut out of his skin. “With begin to tiny were they. Functional not.”

But I frowned, sad for him. The wings were the best part about being an imp. They gave a person escape routes no other being had.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled at me, clearly just glad I didn’t look down on him. “Problem no. You met I glad just am I.”

And that was the best thing to hear all day.

 

Trial

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sixteen

 

 

That evening Officers Calamori and Mason arrived at Gulinger for my hearing along with a lawyer who represented the Collins family. They had escorted him, apparently, blindfolded. They didn’t want him to know the location of the school and had patted him down for tracking devices before even bringing him there. They got him a pay-as-you-go phone as well, leaving his personal cell phone at the police station. That was the school rumor, anyway.

I was escorted to the room for the hearing by Sgt. Kreiner and Col. Jackson, while Capt. Eifert escorted Lorelei. Piranha and Spastic were allowed into the room under the conditions that they sit with spell tape over their mouths so they would not burst out in anger and interfere with the proceedings. They grudgingly accepted on the condition they be allowed pen and paper to write on in case something did need to be said in my behalf.

Several teachers were in attendance, including Ms. Arntz, Ms. Amherst, and Dr. Folger. I hated the sight of them. But also Dr. Pierce came and so did Ms. Keyes.

I looked across the room at where the lawyer sat and the two cops stood. I recognized Officer Mason as the