London's School for Wanted Children by Caleb Baker (e book reader for pc .TXT) 📖

Scarecrow added not looking at Alfred, "now, go home, to your parents. This will be your home soon enough."
Alfred began to walk to the door, silently thinking of what just happened. He had just opted to join a secret society that was living in the under ground sewer system of London. What would the next day's events bring?
"Oh and Alfred, don't bother going to school on monday either, come here instead." Scarecrow said when Alfred reached the door to leave the Library, "I will send someone to fetch you, when the time is right."
Alfred nodded, and resumed his walk to the door.
What would the next day's events bring?
Induction

Alfred's thoughts reeked with anticipation. He was scarred with the image of Scarecrow's face, his eyes. Over the last few days he began to wonder if it had even happened, if he had even been put into a life or death situation, if he had even joined that secret society. His mind raced with questions, inquiries that he never asked.
He sat at the desk in his room, staring out of the rain splattered window in front of him. The weather from two days ago had not let up, but he was accustomed to this as London rarely saw sunshine. His room was darkened from the cloudy sky, his clock told him that the sun was setting behind the clouds, and it would soon be pitch black in his room. His bedroom was filled with the normal furnishings of a sixteen year old boy. A television was collecting dust across from his twin sized bed, the desk he now sat at compiled of papers and homework from his school . His closet was placed adjacent to his television, and was over encumbered with his enormous amounts of clothes. His school uniform was lying on his bed, newly washed and ironed, he would never wear it again.
Alfred's mind began to move towards his father. He started to remember what had happened when he emerged from the sewer grate two days ago. He was alone in the alley way, alone to his thoughts, much like he was now. As he walked through the newly darkened street he noticed his father had left. A single street lamp stood shining brightly in the fog, where he and his father had once investigated. The yellow tapings that read, "caution" on them were now wet from the rain, and sagging to the cobbled street below. Alfred began on his trek back to the police precinct, grabbing the collar of his father's trench coat and bringing it up closer to his face in an attempt to keep out the chill.
No cars had come his way, as the police had set up detour signs a couple of streets ahead. More streetlights had crossed his path now that he was out of the alley, and farther away from the crime scene, the crime he knew was commited by the people he had just encountered. He never got to ask if they did actually do it, though. He was now arriving at the precinct, it was coming up on his left, the stony steps; puddled and slippery. He jogged up the staircase and opened the door to the police station hastily, as the rain was beginning to pick up again. The elevator doors slid open of their own accord and a group of busy-bodied workers stepped out, all talking louder than the other. Alfred shook his head. Everything seemed so meaningless, after today's events. He thought he was apart of something much bigger than himself, and those around him.
The elevator lifted him up to his father's floor. As they slid open once more they revealed the workplace. The cubicles were all empty except for one; his father's. Barry sat alone, his hands dug into his long graying hair, the lights above him dim and flickering.
"Dad?" Alfred said abruptly.
"Al?" his father looked up, a hand still in his hair.
He stood up to look above the cubicles, and stared at Alfred in front of the elevator.
"Where have you been?!" he yelled.
"I- I was-" Alfred began.
"We've been looking every where for you!" Barry started a brisk walk toward Alfred.
He grabbed Alfred by the shoulders, as if checking to see if he was really there. His eyes scanned Alfred's, stopping over each one.
"I've been worried sick!" his father said, "I've sent a search party after you!"
"A search party?" Alfred asked dumbly.
"Yes," Barry took Alfred by the arm and dragged him over to his computer.
Alfred sat down next to his father, who leaned over to him and continued holding his shoulders.
"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked.
Alfred was silently working out a fake scenario in his head, it involved one where he was simply investigating the place he and his father attended earlier that day.
"I was still investigating..." he answered slowly.
"You were what? You don't need to do that, that's not your job," Barry replied.
"I'm sorry, I just got caught up in the moment, I guess," Alfred was avoiding his father's eye on purpose, that was the easiest way to tell that he was lying.
"Look, just don't let it happen again... and don't tell your mother, she'd go mad," he said.
He was back in his room, the memory fading away, as the street lamp outside his window flickered on, making a glare so he could see his reflection. His bright green eyes gazed back into himself, his auburn colored hair clashed greatly against his dark green shirt. His room was now completely dark, except for the little light the outside gave. He had been sitting at his desk for what seemed like four hours, thinking. When would the school send for him, the underground school. Who would fetch him, Deca? Iliad? or perhaps the girl who saved his life. Now would be as good a time as any, considering his parents were both gone, his father; still working on the case Alfred had already solved, and his mother was at a family friend's house.
The mist outside was growing, much like his overwhelming tiredness. His will to stay awake was driven by the thought that Scarecrow would send for him at any moment, but still, he crept into his warm and inviting bed. Now resting his eyes it was easier to think, although his mind was becoming more and more obscured by sleep, and before he knew it; he was dreaming.
The room was silent, dark, and... invaded. A girl stood crouched in front of the wide open window, wearing a jet black, skin-tight outfit, the rain falling behind her. Alfred lay asleep only five feet in front of her. She silently stepped forward, catlike, through the window and into Alfred's bed room. She paused only to look at her situation, this only took a few moments, for she soon proded Alfred in the stomach.
Alfred sucked in air, breathing deeply to wake himself. He turned to his intruder and nearly died at the cause of the lump in his throat.
"Who-" he started, but she cut him off.
"Quiet!" she hissed, "are your parents home?"
"No... at least, I don't think..." Alfred said, "hey your the girl who saved my life back in the sewer."
"That doesn't matter," she said quickly, "put this on."
Her voice was stern as she handed him the parcel.
"What's this?" he asked, taking the package.
"Clothes, put them on, quickly," she whispered.
He opened the small box, and inside were the same clothes that she wore now, but folded. He unraveled them and held them up to his body.
"I can't change with you in the room," Alfred said.
"Oh, for goodness sake! There's no time!" she said, then seeing his face she added, "If it'll help, I'll look the other way," she turned around and faced the window.
He quietly undressed, making sure to keep a wary eye on the girl before him. The clothes were extremely tight, but they didn't hurt him, it was more like they hugged him.
"What is this?" he asked when he was fully dressed.
"Those, are a special armor," she began, "I designed them myself, they are customized to deflect bullets."
"Deflect bullets?" Alfred blurted, "what exactly do you have planned for tonight?"
"Just stick close behind me, don't attract attention, and nothing should go wrong," she said softly, "I'll leave this note here, it says your sleeping over at a friends house."
She then leapt out of the window, making no noise at all, Alfred didn't even hear her touch the ground. He ran over to the window, and she had already taken off, running soundlessly.
"That was cool..."
They took alleyways to avoid light and cars. They stuck close to the buildings, Alfred following every move that his fellow made. They came to a part of an alley where it met with the street, and at the moment the street was busy, in fact it was packed with cars, bumper to bumper.
"It seems Deca has missed his cue for the distraction... bumbling idiot," the girl said putting up a hand to halt Alfred, "our exit is on the other side of this street."
"What distraction?" Alfred whispered.
"He was supposed to cause a distraction on the other street, over there," she pointed to the street that was left off the one before them, "so we could get to that sewer over there."
"So, what now?" he asked, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow.
"You tell me, Mr. Detective," her voice sounded almost mockingly.
"I'm... i'm not a detective," Alfred said looking directly at her.
She was very beautiful, although it was hard to tell her features due to the lack of light.
"Just think, Alfred."
He looked up, tilting his head to the sky, the raindrops hitting his face and his suit. A balcony jutted out of the brick building next to them, a ladder pulled up on the side of it, barely reaching the ground.
"We could use that," Alfred said, pointing to the ladder and balcony.
"And do what with it?" she asked skeptically.
"I'm not sure," he replied, "but shouldn't we check it out anyway?"
"It's your call," she walked towards the ladder, and grabbed it with both hands, "I'll go first, you follow."
He nodded, walking in her wake.
"So, what's your name?" Alfred asked, as the girl ahead of him was halfway up the ladder.
"Your not in the Guild yet, so I don't feel comfortable telling you," she replied.
"But, what about code names? You guys have those, right?" Alfred persisted.