40: Serve it cold.

When the bell finally rang, Jack leapt more than walked out of the classroom. It was free period, his favorite time of the school day. He had three options, two of which seemed promising: go to the library and sleep, go to lunch and eat, or work out in the school’s gymnasium. The last one was out of the question, because Jack hated exerting himself. So, it was either A or B.

Melissa will be in the library. She has free period the same time I do. Oh, man, this time I’ll say the right words for sure.

The bell rang a second time, and the hallway quieted down. Students weren’t supposed to roam the halls during free time. The school always wanted them to be somewhere, so Jack hurried along. He walked to the end of the second floor hallway then descended the grey steps leading down to the first floor.

It wasn’t much cooler here than on the second and third floor, but the library was air conditioned, so it would be a good enough change of pace. Classes were in session on both sides of the hallway; the sound of impatient teachers escaped the crowded classrooms.

The right side of the hallway housed student lockers, and the left side contained old, dusty walls, with open windows on top that did little to expel the hellish heat. The library was just at the end of the hallway.

Something made a loud, banging sound behind him, startling Jack. He spun around and saw a fist being smashed into a locker. Jack’s heart almost stopped. Behind him stood the last four people on Earth he wanted to see.

“Yo, Harris, where you think you’re going, kid?”

Jack backed up slowly and tried to avoid making eye contact. He really wasn’t in the mood for this today. “Hey, Kip, how’s it hanging?”

“Where you going, Harris? Ain’t got no time for some of ya friends? C’mere, I wanna talk to you.”

Kip looked furious, even more than usual. The three with him surrounded Jack, and he tried his best not to whimper. Why did it have to be like this every day? Just once, couldn’t they leave him alone?

Kip was a tall and brutish looking boy, with shredded black hair and a pointy nose. Jack knew he came from a very wealthy and privileged family, yet for some reason he was among the meanest and cruelest students in Elms high. He made the former Richard Davins look like Sarah, the kind and sweet Telepath on his team.

Kip grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him into a locker, pinning him in place. It didn’t hurt much, but the sound it made was more frightening than the actual gesture. Jack tried not to meet Kip’s eyes. He attempted to diffuse the situation.

“Hey, umm, Kip, can I go, please? I want to meet someone in the library …”

“Shut your mouth!” he shouted. “What did I tell ya about speaking without my permission?” Jack twitched as Kip slapped him across the face with the palm of his hand. It didn’t hurt as much as Melissa’s slaps, but it was humiliating. “Who ya meeting in the library? Don’t tell me it’s Melissa, ‘cause that’s the last thing I wanna hear from you, Harris.”

Jack gulped. “I’m just meeting my friend, that’s all.”

Kip looked around at his three lackeys, sharing a distrusting look. “I’ve had my eye on her for a while.” He pulled Jack away from the locker and then slammed him back into it, harder this time. There was another crash, and this time Jack felt it. “You don’t look at her, and you don’t talk to her. Do you understand me?”

Jack felt the first stirrings of anger, but fear kept him from fighting back. “I have to see her. There’s some confusing stuff that’s happened, and I can’t just stop speaking to her because you have a problem with—”

Jack didn’t realize he’d been hit until he noticed the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Kip’s fist crashed into the side of his face, cutting him off mid-sentence. Jack’s eyes widened from the unexpected attack. Kip followed it up with another. Jack spat as his stomach exploded in pain, causing him to fall to his knees.

“Ya not hearing me, kid? Do you even know what I’m gonna do to you if I even see you looking in her direction?”

Jack clutched his stomach and tried to catch his breath. A terrible and sudden sadness crossed over him, a pain that hurt more than anything these four could ever do to him.

Andy, he thought. How far did they drive you? Was this … what made you become who you are?

“Kip,” Jack groaned, trying to stand to his feet. “You’ve heard on the news what happened to Richard, right? I know he was a friend of yours. This is why it happened. Because you treat people like this, and you drive them mad.”

Kip’s nose curled, and his lips quivered. This time he sent his fist into the spot between Jack’s eyes, knocking him to the floor, on his back. It already hurt this much, and Jack wondered how much worse things were going to get. He was a poor fighter and in poor shape—there was little he could do to stop him.

No. There’s one thing I could do.

Jack pulled the thought from his mind. He’d promised Paro that he’d never use his power in public, especially not for personal reasons. He was tempted, though. The pain was becoming excruciating. Jack’s lips were bleeding, and already he could feel his left eye beginning to swell.

“You don’t know what the hell yer talkin’ about!” Kip roared at him. Jack cried out in agony, pain spreading over him from every direction. The four of them were kicking him from everywhere at once. Jack covered his face and his groin. He closed his eyes, hoping it would end soon.

“I hate you,” Kip said, spitting on him. “I hate you, you useless piece of trash. You shouldn’t have been born, Harris. You don’t deserve to live.”

Jack tried not to cry; he didn’t want to embarrass himself any further. The tears fell anyway, and Jack prayed that it would end soon. How long would they go on hurting him? What had he ever done to any of these people?

Their feet struck at him again and again: his stomach, face, legs, and arms. Jack wailed, the temptation to draw on his power growing to a desperate need. But he’d promised Paro—he promised he’d never do it.

His mind fogged up. Why couldn’t a teacher or a dean walk through the hallway? Jack had terrible luck. The worst was not knowing when it would end, how long it would go on for.

There were voices from the other end of the hallway, and Jack felt a brief moment of hope. Three boys and a girl exited the stairway and looked at Jack for just a moment, before quickly turning around and going right back the other way. They clearly weren’t looking to get on Kip’s bad side any more than the rest of the school did.

Jack wondered if they were going to kill him, right there in the middle of school. They showed no sign of slowing down, and they ignored his pleas to stop. Yet the pain became more concentrated, the brunt of it on his stomach. It took Jack a moment to realize it, but now it was just Kip beating him. The other three had stopped.

“Kip, I think he’s had enough,” one of them muttered.

Kip paused for a moment, looking at his surroundings. There was dark rage in his eyes. “I’ll say when he’s had enough.”

He’s really going to kill me!

Jack knew he no longer had a choice but to defend himself the only way he could; he’d tried his best, he really did, but the pain and terror were too much to handle, especially knowing there was a way out. Jack drew on that disgusting, vile part of him. This time he barely felt it. Even the sickening, gut-wrenching draw of power couldn’t hold a candle to the ruthless beating from Kip. Jack drew on it, fueled by his anger.

Again Kip kicked, and Jack grabbed his foot. There was a flash in his mind, an explosion of confusion. Thoughts and feelings assaulted him. It was similar to what had happened with Sandra, only this time he didn’t black out. This time, it was in the back of his mind.

He saw Kip, trembling, in the same position as Jack. His father stood over him, beating him and ignoring the very same pleas to stop. There was the same worry, too. The same fear of not knowing how long it would last and if the pain would go on forever.

In an instant Jack felt his anger dull, and he laughed, causing Kip to pause and look at him in confusion.

“It’s amazing,” Jack said. “It’s like an infectious disease. It goes from one person to the next.”

“The hell you talking about?” Kip growled. He was panting, and he appeared to be returning to his senses. “Let’s get outta here. From now on watch what you say when you speak to me, Harris.” He gave Jack one final, painful kick to the stomach.

Finally, they walked away, leaving him on his back, staring up at the ceiling. This time was worse than most; he’d been beaten pretty badly. Every part of him ached, and he tried to no avail to sit up.

There were more voices from the hallway, and Jack realized he didn’t want to be discovered this way: lying on his back like an idiot and bleeding. He tried again to sit up. He felt the world spin, his head fogging up and his vision blurry. He’d been kicked one too many times in the face.

Two girls came into view, coming from the direction of the library, and they paused when they saw him.

Wow, how do things keep getting worse?

“J … Jack?” Melissa asked. She was walking with her friend, Jamie.

Jack tried to sit up for the third time. Melissa had never seen him bullied before, and he couldn’t bear the thought of looking this pathetic in front of her. He almost made it to a sitting position, but his body protested, and again he felt himself fall to the hard floor.

Her arms trembled, and she dropped the stack of books she was holding. She ran over to him, almost sliding across the floor as she grabbed him. “What happened?” she whispered. “I don’t understand. How … what happened, Jack?”

“I fell,” he lied, hoping just for once that Melissa would believe him. This was Melissa’s first year at Elms high, and through some miraculous stroke of luck, she’d never seen Jack bullied, except for the small altercation with Richard, but that was nothing compared to this. Jack feared that, if she saw him for how pathetic he really was, she’d never speak to him again.

She grabbed the sides of his head and examined his face, looking into his eyes. “I think you’ve got a concussion. Who did this? Tell me, who did this? I’ll kill them.”

“No one!” Jack snapped, amazed at the anger in his voice. Melissa looked taken aback, surprise mixing with concern on her angelic face. “I mean … no one,” Jack finished, forcing his voice into a whisper. “I just fell.”

“You’re lying,” she said. “Jack, please, tell me who did this. Is it … is it because you’re embarrassed? That you won’t tell me, I mean.”

Jack looked away from her, refusing to meet her eyes, ashamed for all he was worth. The humiliation was overwhelming, and he pushed her hand away, snapping at her yet again. “Just leave me alone! I don’t need you.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

He couldn’t control his anger, and it all stemmed from his humiliation. Melissa would never like him now. That damn Kip had made him look like such a pathetic wimp, lying on the floor bleeding in front of the girl of his dreams.

Jamie walked over, and she too looked startled by Jack’s condition. “Someone did this?” she gasped. “How awful.”

Melissa took out a damp wipe and tried to wash away some of the blood on his face. Jack pushed her away. “I don’t get it! You won’t talk to me for weeks, and now you come running over? Just go away! I don’t want to talk to you anymore either.”

Jack didn’t mean the words, but the tiny little pride he still had was crushed. He waited for Melissa’s reaction, ashamed at his outburst. Would she be sad? Would she be furious? Jack was surprised to see she was none of these things. She once again dabbed his face with the wipe.

“Jamie, go get the nurse, please,” she said. “Jack’s been hurt pretty bad.” Her friend nodded and ran off.

“Boys,” Melissa said with a sigh. “Even you can be ‘boy-stupid’ at times, Jack. What you’re feeling now, it’s okay. I know you’re embarrassed, just …”

Jack pushed her hand away. The shame was almost choking him; it was agonizing. Melissa, as if losing patience, glared at him.

“Cut it out and look at me.” Jack turned his head away, and she grabbed his jaw. “I said, look at me.”

“Why do you wanna talk all of a sudden? You hated me, and now you care?”

“I’ve always cared, you idiot! And this is different. Everything else that happened is nothing compared to this. Open your eyes, Jack. Look at what these boys did to you. How long has this been going on for? Tell me—right now.”

Jack trembled. “I can’t.”

“Tell me,” she insisted. “You can trust me.”

Jack sighed. “All my life.”

Melissa closed her eyes a moment. “Have you ever been hurt this bad before?”

“No. Not like this.”

Melissa looked to be deep in thought. Jack was petrified of what was running through her mind. Was she wondering how someone could be such a wimp? How the Psych that stood up to an entire Op. team was nothing more than a worthless loser like Jack?

“I knew they picked on you,” Melissa said. “I just never knew it was this bad. This can’t go on. No, not for a member of my team. If Michael or Sarah, or even Paro had the slightest idea that this happens to you … do you have any idea what they would do, Jack? Do you even know how close the bond is between members of a Psych team? We’d have to hold Michael back. He’d probably try to bust down the doors to our school and start a rampage, and that’s if Paro and I came to our senses, and didn’t join him. You’re not alone, Jack. Why did you keep all this a secret? Why do you think it’s okay to let this happen to you?”

Jack felt the return of tears, though he tried to fight them, but he was at that final point: the place where a person knew they were moments away from crying, and fighting only made it worse. Eventually there was the first sniffle, followed by the first tear. Melissa pulled him in and let him cry on her shoulder.

“I … I’ve always been this person,” Jack said. “I don’t need anyone’s help, and I never did. Why start now?” Melissa held him, and Jack let go of his anger towards her. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” she said. “You don’t have to feel ashamed. No one should ever be treated this way, not at school or any place else.”

“Let’s just forget this happened, okay? Please, Melissa, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“It is a big deal. If not for yourself, then do it for … Andy.”

The name returned to him, and so did the memory of the last time Jack had seen him. He had been twisted and miserable. He’d murdered an entire family in cold blood, and an old woman in front of her home. He’d even killed an innocent family along the highway when they were chasing after Sandra and her. And all of this, because of what people like Kip did.

“Who did it?” she asked. “Tell me, Jack.”

“Are you gonna go after them? Promise me that you won’t do anything.”

“I promise.”

“It was Kip. You know, the one from our Art class.”

There was a sound of running, and Jack heard voices in the distance. “Sweetie, are you quite sure? Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?”

“No!” shouted Jamie. “He’s over here.”

There were two women following behind Jamie, and when they rounded the corner and spotted Jack, they looked down at him in disbelief. One of them put a hand to her mouth, while the other shook her head. “Someone … someone did this to him, right here in school?”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t know who, though.”

Jack wondered just how bad he looked, and he turned his head up to glance at his own reflection in the glass window above the wall. His nose was still dripping blood, and his face was bruised and swollen. His clothing was filthy and covered in muddy footprints.

Wow, they really did a number on me.

Melissa helped him to his feet. It hurt just to walk. One of the nurses looked her way and smiled. “Thank you for your help, sweetheart. Can you bring him down to our office? We can take it from there.”

****

Trish tried her best not to let the disappointment show on her face. Once again, the generals had gone against their duties; they were supposed to be impartial and cast aside all former ties and loyalties. Yet that was never the case. Trish, unlike the generals, had no problem with being impartial, but mostly because to be a judge of the Psych Operatives required an individual that had never been a member of either the Investigative or the Operations teams. Still, she expected more from them. She expected the generals to know better than to play favorites like children.

Trish took in the four people sitting at the bench across from her and swore under her breath. The woman and the three men in her courtroom were so obviously guilty that it was sickening. Their crimes had been proven beyond doubt, and none of the four had even bothered to deny them. If anything, they looked amused. But there was nothing Trish could do. Three generals—all former members of one Op. team or another—had signed a conditional pardon, clearing them of all crimes. As much as it grated Trish, as a judge of the Psych Operatives, she would remain impartial and be as fair as possible. Once three generals signed an order, it was almost impossible to fight.

Trish kept her courtroom neat and orderly. Being not far from the White House, she accepted nothing but the best court etiquette from those that paid her visit, voluntarily or not. It was a smaller courtroom, used exclusively for matters concerning Psychs. The case was being resolved in the lower courts, so, there wasn’t a need for much space. Eight rows of benches and two marble desks up front filled the well-decorated courtroom. Trish had done most of the decorating herself. There were extravagant paintings and Greek columns that ran from the floor to the ceiling, which was painted with a mural of an Angel.

The woman that occupied the bench across from her stand infuriated Trish. The woman’s dress was a blatant show of disrespect; she wore short-shorts, and a too-tight fitting pink tank top, which accentuated her large bosom.

“Please rise,” Trish said in her most formal voice.

“Nah,” the woman answered. “I’m comfortable.”

Trish gritted her teeth. She wanted to sentence the woman to contempt of court right there and then, but it was clear that this disrespectful idiot had friends higher up. Though, if the woman continued to push her luck, Trish wouldn’t hesitate to rip apart this joke of a plea deal the generals had commissioned, even if it did bring their wrath down upon her.

The three men sitting beside the woman whispered nervously into her ear. “All right, fine,” she said, rising.

Trish cleared her throat. “Cemmera Wilson, captain and team-leader of Op. team Four-H. As I’m sure you already know, you’ve been found guilty—by an overwhelming majority—in the unlawful attacks on a Psych General and three Investigative Operatives. In addition, you have been found guilty of tampering with evidence, falsifying documents, and the intentional torture of kill-targets. However,” Trish continued, using every bit of willpower she had to prevent the disgust from seeping into her voice, “I have here a signed ‘plea deal’ from the generals themselves.”

Cemmera nodded and licked her lips. “Let’s hear the terms, Judgey.”

Did she just call me Judgey? This woman is a wretched creature.

“In exchange for a full stay of execution, a restoration of your rank as captain and team-leader, including but not limited to status, rights, and privileges, and the mark against your name stricken from the record, you must offer an apology to Alana Harris, Jack Harris, and Melissa Sayre.”

Cemmera’s eyes bulged. She slammed both of her fists down against the desk in front of the bench. “I have to what?” she shouted. “I have to say sorry? Are you kidding me? No way! We’ll take the freaking death!”

At this, all three of her team-members stood up from the bench and began yelling at her, flailing their arms around while they shouted.

“Are you nuts, Cemmera?” one said. Trish recognized him as Neil Witherson, a Reinforcer. He was a hideous man, his face disfigured and his mouth covered in fake teeth.

“Shut up, Neil. This is such an unreasonable deal. I thought I had friends higher up, but I can see now they’ve abandoned me.” There was genuine sadness in her voice. Trish was in too much disbelief to feel any of her own outrage.

Cemmera huffed. “I mean, what kind of choice is this, anyway? We have to choose between being executed and saying sorry? Gah! I can’t imagine which would be worse. Why don’t you boys stop being such babies and take the death with me? Who knows, maybe it’ll be fun.”

She’s out of her mind. How do they give legally binding power to people like Cemmera Wilson? What’s wrong with some of these Op. team rejects? She’s insane!

Her three male team-members protested as if their lives depended on it—which they did—and one even knelt before her and kissed her boots.

“All right, all right,” she said. “Hey, you, Judgey, we’ll take the deal. But in return I want you to do something for me.”

The nerve of her! Trish wanted to throw her mallet in the woman’s face, but that would only make things worse. Trish inhaled and calmed her nerves. The woman was a captain, and if her request fell within the limits of the law, they would have to be obliged.

“Yes, Cemmera?” Trish asked. “I’m listening.”

“I want that boy, Andy Leonell. His life has been spared, yes? He’s in my domain now, and I want him on my team.”

Trish looked down at the files on her desk, picking up the reading glasses hanging on a chain around her neck and placing them on her face. She licked her finger and turned the pages of a thick book. “He hasn’t been rehabilitated yet,” she said.

Cemmera smiled. “I don’t care. I still want him.”

Trish sighed. “You do realize that because of his criminal activities, he needs to remain in your sight at all times, yes? If he does anything illegal it falls on you. He’d need to serve with your team for a period of no less than twenty years to be free again.”

Cemmera pointed to Neil, who shuddered. “This one still has four to go, so if you can tell, I really don’t care. Have him delivered to my office. Can I go now?”

Trish nodded and waited for the room to be cleared before sighing into her hands and rubbing her eyes. She wondered what evil she’d just let slip through her courtroom.

It’s not my fault, she thought. I enforce the law, not create it.

*****

There was laughter, followed by an exchange of stories, followed by more laughter. “And then,” Kip said with a laugh, “the loser said, ‘Umm, Kip, can I go now?’ He actually said that. I’m not makin’ it up or nothin’.”

Again the boys laughed, while Melissa listened, hidden behind the large gymnasium door. “Oh, man,” a boy said. “Did you make him cry?”

“Hell yeah. I told him to stay away from Melissa, too. Aww, man, she’s so hot. Can’t believe she went out with a guy like Harris. Don’t worry, once she’s gotten a taste of Kip, she’ll forget all about him.”

Melissa felt disgusted. She’d rather stab herself in the eye than “get a taste of Kip”.

“I don’t know, dude,” said another boy. “She’s a tough one to land. You think you can do it?”

Kip nodded. “Oh yeah. Girls like her are the easy sort. They play hard to get, but they’re just looking for a man that can please them. I can get any broad I want. Trust me.”

Melissa waited a few moments, and then she kicked open the door and strolled inside. All eleven boys watched her arrival, turning their heads from the bleachers where they were hanging out. Melissa strutted over to them, a smile on her face.

“Hey, boys,” she said, wiggling her hips for extra effect. They all remained silent, their mouths hanging open. Kip leapt down off the bleachers.

“Hey,” Kip said. “Melissa, what brings you around to my neck of the woods, babe?”

Melissa winked at him. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Kip stepped up to her and ran a caressing arm down her shoulder. It burned at the touch, but she kept her anger in check. She needed to remain calm for just a few more moments. “Maybe there’s something in here you like, something you needed to see.”

“Is there now?” Melissa asked. “Hey, I heard a rumor. Did you really beat up Jack Harris? I dated him a short while ago, so I was curious.”

Kip laughed. “Yeah, I kicked the crap out of that little runt. Should’ve heard him beg. You need a real man, Melissa. What do you say you and I grab dinner tonight?”

“Kip,” she whispered, “I want to tell you a secret. Come close.”

Kip leaned in. “Yeah, babe?”

Melissa pulled back her arm and, committing one of the most serious crimes a Psych was capable of, drew just a little bit of her power. She slammed her fist into the idiot’s face, forcing him backwards and off his feet. She hit him just lightly enough that it wouldn’t draw too much suspicion for a girl.

The boys on the bleachers looked around at each other, shocked. “Did she just … ?” one of them muttered.

Melissa allowed her rage to take control of her, and she charged at Kip before he could get back on his feet. She kicked him in his worthless face and sent him sprawling on his back.

“You’re such a big man,” she teased, making her voice sound sensual. “Getting beat up by a girl.”

She jumped on top of him, her knees crashing into his stomach, which caused him to release a loud cough. Then she slapped him, repeatedly, until he was the one crying like a child, begging for her to stop. She was no longer using any of her power, because she didn’t need to. Her own strength would be more than enough for someone like Kip.

Each time her hand whipped across his face, Kip cried out another plea for mercy. Melissa wouldn’t hurt him the way he hurt Jack, but she would make sure she left a mark. When she felt that her point had been made, she got off him. His nose was bloody, and he had a small cut under his lip, but overall it was only a fraction of what he’d done to Jack. He was crying, and Melissa wished Jack could be there to see it.

No, she reminded herself. If Jack was here, he’d have stopped me. He’s a better person than any of these idiots.

“If you ever,” she warned, and then raised her voice. “IF YOU EVER!” she repeated. “Lay so much as a single hand on him again—or anyone else in this school for that matter—I’ll make what I just did seem like a friendly slap on the back, understand?”

The idiot nodded, tears in his eyes. Melissa spun around and then stormed out of the gymnasium. Now Jack didn’t have to feel like a wimp; everyone just saw Kip beat up by a girl