Spring-Heeled Jack (19 page)

“
Y-Your hand?”

Varnum stared at him, confused. “Yes,
what about it?”

Atticus wanted to snap and call out
the professor, but his words were lost in his throat.

Luckily, like usual, Brock had his
back. “Sorry professor, we were just talking about how wonderful of
a job you’ve done today.”

Varnum scoffed. “Your flattery will
get you nowhere with me, Mr. Mackenzie.”

“
Oh, but it’s not flattery,”
Brock said. “You’ve done so much for the Nelsons, professor, but
don’t you feel just a tad bit guilty?”

“
What are you trying to
say?” The professor pursed his lips.

“
Trying to use the death of
a student to further your plans. Maybe to make yourself look better
in the eyes of your superiors?” Brock looked at Atticus with a
devilish smirk. “What if someone was to see through your actions,
professor? What if this didn’t work?”

Beads of sweat formed on the
professor’s forehead. “I don’t know what it is you’re getting at
Mr. Mackenzie, but I warn you that it is not funny.” The
professor’s face began turning a bright red. “Now, how about you
assist the kitchen instead of lounging about.”

Brock tried to argue, but Varnum kept
his foot planted. He let out a sigh and began to make his way to
the kitchen. When Atticus tried to follow, Varnum stopped
him.

“
Not you, Mr. Whaelord,” he
said. Atticus could see the look of fear on the professor’s face.
Even through his glasses, Atticus could see that the professor was
slowly losing it. “I-I need you to stay here and usher the guests
when they arrive.”

Finally, Atticus couldn’t take being
silent any longer. He looked down at the professor’s hand and said,
“Did it hurt when you smashed the table, professor? How did it heal
so quickly?”

“
What did you
say?”

“
Stop hiding it, Varnum.”
Atticus glared at the professor. “What are you so afraid
of?”

“
I’m not afraid of
anything!”

“
Really? Nothing?” Atticus
asked. “You’re saying you’re not afraid of something going wrong?
You’re not afraid of making The Master angry?”

Varnum tensed up. He shoved Atticus up
to the wall and got up to him, face-to-face and whispered, “You
keep silent, Mr. Whaelord. Now get back to work.”

About a half hour passed and Atticus
was forced to stand at the entrance to the cafeteria and wait for
guests to arrive. It was his job to show them where they’d be
sitting for the evening. Of course, high end snobs wouldn’t listen
to a student; they’d just walk by and sit where they
pleased.

Guests after guests passed. Some fancy
looking higher-ups and some students. Camila decided to come. She
wore a pink dress and her hair was hanging down over her shoulder.
Atticus wasn’t sure why she’d came. She wasn’t really friends with
Mike, and she wouldn’t get anything for attending. Perhaps she just
thought it was the right thing to do.

As she walked past, Atticus tried to
speak with her, but she continued to give him the cold
shoulder.

After about ten more minutes of
greeting guests, the guests of honor arrived: The Nelsons. Dr.
Clayton Nelson was wearing a dark green suit with a black tie. His
hair was neatly groomed and he was still wearing his goggles. Mrs.
Pearl Nelson had on a dark emerald dress with golden trim, a pair
of long black silk gloves and a decorative pearl
necklace.

Atticus couldn’t help but feel they
were hiding something. Dr. Nelson looked particularly disgusted by
the whole event, almost as if he never wanted the whole event to
take place. He’d said that the only thing his son’s death had given
him was harassment. Was this what he meant? A constant reminder
that his son was gone? Atticus knew what it was like to lose his
parents, but he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for parents
to lose their children.

“
Welcome,” Atticus said with
a fake smile. “May I lead you to your seats?”

Mrs. Nelson gazed right past Atticus
as if she hadn’t heard him, but Dr. Nelson looked down with a much
concerned look. “You look familiar. Where do I know you
from?”

“
Not too good with faces I
see,” Atticus mumbled. “I’m Atticus Whaelord. We’ve met before at
the-”

“
Whaelord,” he shouted. “As
in, William and Isabel Whaelord?”

Atticus was a bit taken back. He
didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded.

“
I can’t believe it,” the
doctor said jubilantly. “All this time you were right here!” He
took off his goggles and looked Atticus in the eyes. “I was foolish
not to see it before. You’ve got your father’s eyes.”

“
Y-You knew my
parents?”

“
Knew them? We were
partners!” Dr. Nelson’s face shifted. His joyous glimmer changed to
a look of sadness. “However, that was a long time ago.”

“
What happened to them,”
Atticus asked. “What’s Mekanile? What’s going on in all of
this?”

Atticus didn’t care that he was
bombarding the man with so many questions. He needed answers, and
now he was dedicated to get some.

Dr. Nelson shook his head. He was
about to say something, but he lost his breath. His wife had
vanished. “Pearl? Where did she dawdle off to?”

Atticus hadn’t noticed, but the doctor
was right. It seemed that Mrs. Nelson was just there not more than
a couple of seconds ago, but then she’d just completely up and
disappeared.

That’s when a lump formed in Atticus’
stomach and chaos broke out in the midst of the cafeteria.
Students, faculty, and guests alike began to let out screams of
terror and scattered about as if someone released a swarm of bees.
What was really there, was much worse.

Barreling through the crowd
was a dark cloaked figure, leaping bounds over attendees, onto
tables, a knife held firmly in its hand:
The Jack
. Its speed was remarkable.
It slashed at anyone in its path.

Atticus didn’t even get a
chance to run before the assassin was only a few yards in front of
him. He was certain the figure was going to attack, but he was
wrong.
The Jack
leapt over him and tackled Dr. Nelson, his knife sinking into
the doctor’s chest. A terrible scream of pain filled the room, and
Atticus was forced to watch in horror. He wanted to do something,
like grab a nearby chair and smash it over the assassin, but he was
too afraid to move.

The Jack
ripped the knife out of the doctor and turned to
face Atticus. Its green eyes focused on him. Atticus was certain he
was going to die, but just as the thought crossed his mind, he
heard Professor Varnum.

“
No! You’re not supposed to
be here!”

The assassin quickly changed focus to
the professor. He pushed past Atticus, knocking him to the ground,
and made a mad dash to the professor, leaping over any obstacle in
his path.

The professor’s face
trembled with fear as
The Jack
closed in. He tried to turn and run, but between
his chest pains and the assassin’s speed, he stood no chance. It
was like a tortoise racing a cheetah.
The
Jack
bashed the professor over the head,
and lifted him up onto his shoulders; bounding down the
hallway.

Through all the chaos, Atticus didn’t
know exactly what to do. Everything had happened so fast. He
quickly turned back to Dr. Nelson, who was barely gripping onto
life.

“
D-Dr. Nelson,” he said
quivering. The doctor’s face was pale and his eyes were staring off
into the distance.

He turned to Atticus and said, “I’m
sorry.” That was it. The life had completely drained form his
face.

It felt like Atticus’ heart
had been replaced with a burning coal. He wasn’t going to
let
The Jack
get
away. He bolted up to his feet and made a mad dash to the custodial
closet at the end of the hallway. He knew that’s where it was going
to hide.

As he ran, Atticus saw Brock in the
distance. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt. The two locked eyes and Brock
was relieved to see that Atticus was still safe.

Brock ran up to his friend
and said, “That was him wasn’t it?
The
Jack
?”

Atticus nodded. “It killed Dr. Nelson,
and now he’s taken Varnum. We have to find them before they
escape!”

“
Atticus, that’s for the
police, not us.”

“
We can’t wait for them,”
Atticus shouted. “We can’t just sit by and do nothing!”

Brock shook his head. He wanted to
argue, but he knew nothing would change Atticus’ mind. “Then what
do you propose we do?”

Atticus looked down the hall towards
the closet. “Make sure everyone is okay, and when the officers
arrive, gather as many as you can and met me down the trap
door.”

“
W-What?”

“
That’s where they went,”
Atticus said. “I know it, and I’m not letting them get away
again.”

“
Atticus, no, you’re not
going alone!”

“
Just trust me,” Atticus
begged.

Brock didn’t want to let his best
friend just rush head first into a dark basement where a serial
killer was waiting for him, but he couldn’t stop him. Nothing
could.

He gave a thumbs up and said, “Be
careful,” and then went off to go help calm the storm.

Atticus realized it looked
pretty strange running away from the chaos and down a dark hallway
but that didn’t cross his mind until later. Dozens of people
surrounded him, trying to stop him, but he just pushed past. He was
the only one who knew where
The
Jack
had taken Varnum.

He darted to the closet and found the
trapdoor still open. He distinctly remembered slamming it, so he
knew for a fact that someone was hiding down there. He climbed down
the ladder and descended back into the maze. And that’s when his
adrenaline wore off and the fear really hit him. He realized that
he was in way over his head, and he was in serious danger. He
stared up the ladder and thought the smartest thing to do would be
to climb back up and hide, but he had to be brave.

He thought about what Dr. Nelson had
said: “All this time you were right here!” Atticus wanted to know
what he meant. How did he know his parents? Was Dr. Nelson looking
for him? He’d never know if he ran and hid.

The hallways were just as
dark as before; the faint glow of plasma tubes barely lit anything.
Atticus felt horribly uneasy as he traveled through the long
labyrinthine halls. Before, he wasn’t looking for anything in
particular; he was just exploring, but now he knew
The Jack
could be
anywhere, stalking him the darkness, and that scared him even
more.

After a few minutes of stumbling
through the darkness, Atticus heard muffled crashes and yells
echoing through the halls. He followed the sounds, it guiding him
through the maze until he eventually came across the same metal
door as before. It was tightly shut, and he didn’t dare try and
sneak a peek. On the other end, he could hear three different
voices: two men and a woman.

Atticus recognized the professor’s
whimpering terrified pleas right away. The woman’s was elegant and
graceful, yet harsh: Pearl Nelson. He didn’t know why she was with
Varnum, but he feared the worst. The entire time he was suspecting
her husband, but it seemed that she was the one who wanted her son
dead. But why?

The last voice, Atticus
could only assume, was
The
Jack
. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t
put his finger on it.

He knelt down and placed his
eye up to the crack under the door, desperately trying to catch a
peak. He was right about all of the participants: Varnum, Pearl,
and
The Jack
. As
best he could see, Professor Varnum was whimpering on the ground,
his glasses broken, and several cuts and bruises covered his body.
Pearl looked completely unharmed and unafraid.
The Jack
, meanwhile, had his back to
both of them. Atticus couldn’t see his face.

“
Please, sir,” Varnum
begged, “I did my best. There’s no way the boy knows the
truth!”

“
You went against The
Master’s orders,” the assassin shouted. His voice was cold and
vicious. “You were to retrieve Whaelord’s locket and because of
your carelessness, he almost got away.”

Atticus felt a knot forming in his
stomach. His entire body told him to run, get help, and let the
police handle everything, but he knew better.

“
The Master hired you, gave
you power, because he thought you’d be the right man for the job,”
he yelled, “but, you’re just a coward who is afraid of a
schoolboy!”

“
I swear, sir,” Varnum said
quivering, “it’s not the boy I’m afraid of. He’s a smart one. Much
smarter than we-”

“
He’s a boy,” Pearl butted
in. “He’s no smarter than the other brat. Why not just kill him
too?”