Chapter 7

High School. I was a sophomore in high school. It hadn't hit me until just then, until the doors to the school were in sight on this first day. Even coming here for the past two weeks hadn't brought it home like right then. I'd missed my birthday; missed it because I was too busy getting tortured and killed.

Bad memory. Push it back. Tap your fingers on your shin to make your brain move on.

The first day of high school is traumatic, no matter what grade you're in. I had eased into it somewhat, though, because I'd already been coming to school for the past two weeks. I just hadn't realized all that it meant at the time.

Football. My parents had convinced me to try out for football again this year. I wasn't going to; with my abilities, it all seemed a bit silly. I could score every time and no one would be able to touch me. However, it would be just as easy – and ultimately a lot more fair – not to use them. I just didn't need to speed up.

Okay, so it wasn't really my parents that convinced me. After this past summer, they wouldn't have been able to convince me to come in from out of the rain. I didn't trust them; maybe I never would again. Instead, Diana had convinced me at their request. It turns out that it isn't just 'Diana'; it's Doctor Diana Stone (well, Capland, since she's under-cover) Ph.D, A.B.P., L.P.C. and probably E.I.E.I.O. She'd been selected as part of the team to protect me and my family because she was a Psychiatrist specializing in PostTraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Evidently, it was a pretty good bet that I was afflicted with PTSD. After hearing some of the symptoms – okay, after Diana (as she insisted I call her) listed what I'd been going through and how I reacted and checked them off against common PTSD symptoms – I'd agreed.

I wasn't sleeping much. I had nightmares, remembering being in that cage, remembering dying. I would wake up in a cold sweat – sometimes even when I wasn't sleeping. I can't explain the fear and disorientation of waking up and realizing that nearly a half-hour had passed while I was reliving being in that cage.

I couldn't sleep on the bed. Not by myself, at any rate. There were plenty of times that Nevaeh or Andwynn would come in my room and wake me to help me back into bed after finding me sleeping underneath it only to have to do it again a little while later. I only seemed to find peace, to be able to sleep in bed, when Andwynn would join me and hold me. It was the only time I felt safe. It didn't always stop the nightmares, though.

My parents had argued a bit when Andwynn stopped even heading to her room at night. To her credit, she didn't say a word, just stared at them with an angry little stare and walked right into my room. They didn't say a thing after that.

Football was part of Diana's treatment. She wanted me to get back to normal things as quickly as possible. She said the familiarity would help me deal with what had happened to me. Plus, football would let me get some of my aggression and anger out.

I had a lot of anger and it showed up at some of the most inopportune times. I'd yell at my parents or sisters for no apparent reason. I even yelled at Diana a few times, just blowing up at the silliest, most innocuous things.

I think the worst was having Diana making me relive the cage. She made me talk about it. She made me talk about dying. In torturous detail. I didn't want to. I fought with her about it, tooth and nail. She had a way of getting what she wanted, though. So much so that I began to wonder if maybe she didn't have a persuasion ability just like John. When I asked her, she assured me that she wasn't one of the 'Ingeniosus'; she was just a normal person with a special, particular skill set. I waited for her to tell me that I could walk away and that would be the end of it, she would not look for me, she would not pursue me, but if I didn't, she would find me and she would kill me. I guess that movie wasn't all that popular in Great Britain.

Her 'husband', Jason Capland – his real name – was an 'ingeniosus'. He was a 'robus'; a person with tremendous strength. He didn't look that strong. I mean, he was all muscle with little body fat but he was wiry not bulky. He stood a few inches shorter than me at 6', with short, blonde hair that was slowly receding along the sides. He had a craggy face, with skin like leather, but his blue eyes were soft while his nose was long and sharp. His face softened completely when he smiled or laughed, which was often. I got the impression of a nice man, maybe a shopkeeper or something.

That image was severely tested when he demonstrated his strength by lifting the back end of the car with surprising ease. I decided I was glad he was protecting me.

What surprised the hell out of me was when Brianna and Johanna got on the bus with Nevaeh, Andwynn and me that first day. My family lived in a 'gray area' that was just on the border of being one mile from our high school; one mile was the cut off for bus service. Evidently, sometime over the summer the district had decided that we were far enough away to get a bus; every other year they'd decided walking was good enough for us. Andwynn had been lobbying for a new car but her political action committee was weak and not well-funded – even when she did bribe Nevaeh and myself with promised rides, our 3 votes just didn't withstand the parents' veto power.

It didn't matter to me, really, because I couldn't use the bus or Andwynn's car service for the first half of the year anyway. Coach had football practice both before and after school; I was on my own until sometime in November or December depending on if we made State. The only reason I was riding the bus on the first day anyway was because the coach and two assistant coaches (yes, we take football very seriously in Texas; I'm almost positive it's a fully recognized secondary religion – you're Catholic or Lutheran or Episcopalian or even Jewish ... and you're a Cowboy fan or a heathen) had some meeting with the district.

So, we were just getting on the bus after the Anderson triplets when Johanna and Brianna just showed up. I didn't say anything or even acknowledge them – more out of surprise than any real effort to snub them. I was sitting with Andwynn – Andwynn on the outside and me on the aisle with Nevaeh in the next seat behind us – when Johanna stopped in front of us.

"Uh, Reece, would you mind sitting with me up front here?" She asked with a smile, so what could I say? I looked over at Andwynn and she seemed to think about it a moment before shrugging at me. I looked back at Johanna and nodded, then got up while she slid into the outside seat in front of us and I slid into the aisle next to her. Brianna slid into my old spot next to Andwynn and seemed to strike up a conversation.

"Aren't you a little old to be going to high school?" I whispered.

"How old do you think I am?" she whispered back, her smile never wavering.

"I don't know... 18 or 20, maybe?" I guessed. To be fair, with her hair up in a pony tail and little to no makeup, she really did look younger.

"I just turned 16," she grinned.

"16?" I gasped, then looked around to make sure no one had heard me. I quieted my voice. "They let someone that young into the Order?"

"Remember that the Order is hundreds of years old," she whispered back, her smile fading. "It was not uncommon for men and women to marry and start a family at 13 back then."

"I guess," I whispered back dubiously. "It's just ... you ... you seem ... so..."

"I'm very smart," she said seriously putting her head close to mine. She was talking low but not whispering; the bus was moving and it was loud – too loud to hear a whisper. "I was advanced several times; I graduated from what you call high school two years ago and have been in University – you call it college, right? – and I've been in college since. Plus, I'm a 'mimus' so the Order took special note of me."

"Anyway," she continued, smiling again. She turned so that Andwynn and Brianna could join our conversation. Nevaeh leaned forward but I wasn't completely positive she could hear. "Our cover is that Brianna and I are sisters..."

"Friends..." Brianna jumped in, an evil glint in her eyes.

"Fine," Johanna said, not looking completely happy about it. "Brianna and I are friends. She's a senior and I'm a Junior; we weren't sure that anyone would believe it if we said we were any younger. We live across the street from you – though why Brianna is living with us now is beyond me..."

"I've worked that out," Brianna interjected loftily. "My parents worked as archaeologists and sent me to live with their best mates, Diana and Jason, so I can be schooled properly. Unfortunately, they've passed on, leaving Diana and Jason as my guardians. I've already started the Order to work forging the papers."

"Fine," Johanna said again, still not looking completely at ease. "Though how we're going to get around the fact that Diana has already registered us with the school as sisters..."

"It's handled," Brianna said, staring at Johanna. "I hacked the school district's computers and changed it. We're all set."

"Fine," Johanna said yet again with a heavy sigh. "Our covers then are Joanna and Brianna ... uh ... well, Joanna Capland and Brianna..." She looked a question at Brianna.

"Faultwell," Brianna responded. "I thought I could use my own last name. Mum and Dad were archaeologists, after all, may they rot in hell."

Brianna glared at me as Johanna – excuse me, Joanna – took my hand when we got off the bus. Luckily, I was too shocked to pull away. Joanna leaned into me. "I thought it would be best if we were boyfriend and girlfriend," she whispered quietly. "It would help explain why we spend so much time together." She chuckled a little bit. "Of course, the alternative would be to pretend that I was girlfriends with one of your sisters but we didn't think that would go over too well."

"Probably not," I grinned sickly. I wasn't sure this was going to work out so well. "I take it Brianna is not too happy with it?"

"Not particularly," Joanna admitted. "I honestly think she's jealous, though she won't admit it."

"Well, she doesn't have to worry," I said quietly. "I'll behave."

Joanna started laughing. "I don't think she's jealous of you," she managed finally. "I think she's jealous of me. I'm not certain but I think Brianna might have eyes for you."

I just looked at Joanna like she was crazy. "Not possible," I stated firmly. "She hates me. I have to be very careful to know where she is at all times to make sure she isn't trying to kill me."

Joanna just shrugged. "That's one of the things that make me think she likes you, actually. Brianna ... well, I can't give up confidences but she doesn't let anyone in – especially not males. Usually, she does that by just ignoring them. It works well for her. In order for her to harbor this much animosity towards you, it must mean that she is mad attracted to you and she's trying to push you away to remove the temptation."

"That makes no sense," I said with disbelief.

Joanna just shrugged. "Affairs of the heart never make any sense. I just wanted to warn you, that's all. Besides, maybe I'll fight her for you ... if you're lucky." The last was said with a smirk and a laugh so I figured the odds of that happening were somewhere below slim and none.

The first day went well but seemed to drag forever, like first days always do. I kept looking around for my best friend, John Manning, but I could never seem to find him. Joanna met me between every class and I walked her – hand in hand – to her next class; whenever Brianna saw us she gave us both a withering glare that promised mayhem, carnage and destruction when she got us alone.

It's probably a very bad thing when you're more scared of the people assigned to keep you safe than the ones who're probably trying to kill you.

Finally, just before lunch, John found me.

I'd grown some over the summer; according to the tape and scales at football practice, I was 6'4" and weighed just over 180lbs. and none of it was fat – that's what happens when you go on a 2 month liquid diet. Remembering that was a Bad Thing™; I felt myself slowly descending into another nightmare of being trapped in that cage. Before it could get too good a hold on me, though, I started tapping Morse code on my leg like Diana taught me. It seemed to stop the dreams before they could get hold of me; something about forcing the brain to move on or something.

Meanwhile, John was just ... John. He hadn't changed a bit. He was still on the tall side at maybe 5'11" but I was towering over him now. He seemed to have put on a little weight but he was still rail thin with almost no true muscles.

"Ree!" he called, grinning at me. "Damn, man, grow much? I haven't seen you in months and you come to school looking like a fucking Greek God. How're us little guys supposed to compete?"

"Hey, John," I laughed, clapping him on the back. "Long time no see. Sorry about this summer; the parents sent me away..."

"To camp," John finished, laughing. "Yeah, they told me when I came looking for you. I thought they might have just locked you up but Andwynn confirmed it. She didn't look too happy about it, either. So, what else you been up to, man?"

"Nothing much," I shrugged. I couldn't share the truth of the past few months with John. I just couldn't. "Been playing a little football."

"Yeah, I guess so," he chuckled. His face kind of fell and he started to look a bit pensive. "Hey ... I, uh ... I'm not sure if you heard but ... uh ... I know you and Tabitha were hitting it off late last year but ... well ... she's kind of seeing 'Rock' Strickland now."

"Jimmy Strickland?" I asked in disbelief. Jimmy Strickland was an arrogant asshole. I'm surprised he looked away from the mirror long enough to date anyone. His nickname, 'Rock'? He gave it to himself. Most people are polite enough to his face to use it but they just laugh at him – and it – behind his back. He was a transfer student a few years ago; a short kid, maybe 5'4" back then, no telling what he looked like now, he was thin and wiry with black hair kept to his shoulders, dark blue eyes and a thin, iconic face – he looked like he could have been a male model, to be honest. He had muscles, but they were the long, stringy muscles of maybe a swimmer. He claimed to be a 5^th degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do back then, and he certainly knew some martial arts, but I knew a few real black belts and they just laughed at him. Still, I never bothered to get to know him so I couldn't say much. "Is he as arrogant as he seems?"