Anavi was right. There was no clear leader. Or, rather, they all seemed to be leaders, in turn, but not different enough for the change in who was speaking to matter. Something very weird was definitely going on with them. I just didn’t know what.
I hid my unease the same way I did when I was trying to win an argument with my dad. By keeping my voice level and my shoulders squared. “So, you’re saying there’s no problem with ganging up on weaker players? That you do it?”
No one said a word.
The answer came as a sensation—like the push of an invisible hand slamming into my mind, hard enough that my head went back as I jerked to my feet. My chair scraped the floor behind me, and Maddy’s hand catching it was all that kept it from hitting the floor.
The pressure had been undeniable. It hadn’t lasted long. Only for a moment.
That didn’t mean I wanted to feel it again. I was breathing hard, but I did my best to hide my fear.
No one at the table gave a hint of any change, of having done anything. They were talking again, in that overlapping way:
“Maybe you should do a different story.”
“And forget this.”
“Forget us.”
Then they were getting up, one by one, and leaving the cafeteria.
“Lois?” The look on Maddy’s face made what she was asking clear. She wanted to know if I was all right.
I steadied myself with a hand on the table. “Finally,” I said, “we’re getting somewhere.”
CHAPTER 7
After school, I crossed the Daily Planet Building lobby with a speed and purpose that came from having a noble cause paired with less-than-worthy opponents. Which meant I didn’t spot James waiting for the service elevator in time to avoid him.
As I reached the elevator bank, the dull gray doors crawled their way open. My luck is in rare form today, I thought, giving him a tight smile. After everything else, I’m reaching the Scoop office at the same time as the Third?
I wasn’t going to be ridiculous about it, though. I couldn’t afford a delay, and who knew how long the decrepit elevator would take to come back again? There were important preparations to make for tonight. I had to be on time for my rendezvous with Anavi and the Warheads. And I had another invitation to make, too—one I was nervous about.
Poor Anavi. This was to help her, so my nerves didn’t matter.
“You first,” James said, holding the aged door open with his arm.
I didn’t know why his being polite bugged me, but it did. I climbed on.
“Heard you did some interviews during lunch,” he said as the elevator car creakily made its way to the basement.
“From?” I asked suspiciously.
“Maddy and I have last period together. She said the Warheads weren’t what you’d call cooperative.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “If they were, then I’d know I didn’t have a story. They as much as admitted to ganging up on people in the game, and I saw them bothering Anavi this morning outside it. That’s all I need.” Before he could speak, I corrected myself. “Well, almost. I want a little more flavor, and I need to get Principal Butler in too.”
Disbelief colored James’s expression at the mention of the principal. I tried not to grin.
“Look,” I said, “I know you’re just here to follow in Daddy’s footsteps. But you can still learn a thing or two.”
The elevator stopped, the doors inching open. I pushed into the hall as soon as there was enough room. The dingy, dim length of it was less despair-inducing today. That was because I knew where I was going. And why.
Striding into the Morgue, aka the Scoop office, felt, well, right.
I would get Principal Shark to incriminate himself. I’d figure out what was up with that mental shove too, and before Anavi lost any more of her self or sanity. The memory of the press against my mind in the cafeteria made my stomach turn with discomfort.
No. That would mean I was afraid of them. I was probably just hungry.
When I walked into the office, Devin and Maddy were already there talking. She was standing at his desk, and I could guess from how they looked over when I came in that Maddy was relating the story of my daring lunchtime newsgathering again.
I was flattered.
“You’re really going after Butler?” James asked, finally having recovered his power of speech.
I’d almost forgotten he was with me. I slid into the squeaky old chair behind my crypt-sized desk before I answered. “Him not helping Anavi, looking the other way . . . that’s more of a story than boys—and girls—behaving badly. He has a responsibility to protect the students. He isn’t doing that for some reason. I don’t think this part will be hard.”
I slipped out my laptop and opened it. There was a computer on my desk here, but even if I was set up on it already, it wouldn’t have the uber-security required. I’d decided to cart mine with me in case I needed to phone a friend. So to speak.