Bumble (Page 6)

"Come on," Sali bent over, cautiously looked both ways and darted silently to the next classroom doorway, preparing to repeat the action.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Ashe stood in the middle of the hall, staring at Sali. Cori, standing beside Ashe, covered a smile.

"Spy stuff," Sali said, bending over again.

"Sali, the school is empty—I can’t hear anything except us," Ashe pointed out.

"Oh." Sali straightened. "Well, let’s go, then." His athletic shoes squeaking on tile, Sali trotted off toward the Principal’s office. Ashe shook his head at Cori before following Sali down the hall; the young werewolf was humming the theme from Mission: Impossible.

"We’ll be right outside," Sali shoved Ashe inside Principal Billings’ office moments later and shut the door.

Ashe stood still, staring at the closed door for precious seconds, wondering how he’d gotten involved in the mess to start with. Shaking himself mentally, he surveyed the utilitarian cube of an office before turning toward Principal Billings’ desk. Built of Mahogany, the solid wood behemoth was positioned toward the back of the small space.

Sliding onto the Principal’s leather chair, Ashe tapped the keyboard to dismiss the screensaver and entered the password. All of Principal Billings’ files popped right up. Thankful for the high-speed internet service the community paid for, Ashe went searching through files. He found one for Randall Smith, the ousted student, but right beside Randy’s name, Ashe found his own. Gulping nervously and quaking a little, Ashe opened Randall Smith’s file first.

Randall Smith is charged by the community with exposure of the community, punishment for which is expulsion with compulsion not to mention the community to humans for the rest of his life. Compulsion performed on Seventeen February, by Aedan Evans. Should perpetrator Smith commit a similar crime in future, according to Pack Law he will be condemned to death. Randall Smith may not approach or contact the community from this point forward or the death penalty will be levied.

The official-looking document was signed by Packmaster DeLuca and witnessed by three other werewolves. Principal Billings was one of those three. Ashe drew in a breath as he paged to the second document.

Letter received from Randall Smith on March 25. Paul Harris, a former instructor, neither requested nor condoned the forbidden communication. All information has been presented to Packmaster DeLuca for authentication. Authentication verified March 26. Pack Law is clear; Randall Smith should be sentenced to death—Benjamin Billings, Pack Secretary.

Principal Billings had inserted a personal note at the end. I will volunteer to perform the execution, he’d written. Ashe’s breaths were ragged gasps. He knew Pack Law was different from the laws humans followed, but this—surely they couldn’t do this. And how had Randall Smith found Mr. Harris to send a letter? That shouldn’t have been. It made no sense at all to Ashe. He could see Randy contacting some of his former friends, but why a teacher?

Hurriedly Ashe closed that file, wondering what he should tell Cori and Sali. While he pondered that dilemma, he opened the file labeled with his name, coming face to face with the note Principal Billings sent to his parents.

* * *

"What did you find?" Cori pushed for information as they walked out of Cloud Chief Combined together a few minutes later.

"Just a note from Principal Billings, saying that the letter was neither requested nor condoned," Ashe replied. He wasn’t lying; he just wasn’t giving complete information. Randall Smith could be condemned to death during the next full moon, which fell on March thirtieth. The werewolves would take care of Pack business first, before making the change.

Nobody living in the community ever forgot when the full moons came—the wolves were forced to change and hunt. The shapeshifters also changed, but theirs was a less frenetic transformation. Ashe’s mother, a peregrine falcon, went out flying by moonlight, his dad going out with her and watching over her; waiting on the ground below with a robe when she tired and came back to him.

Ashe hunched his shoulders, refusing to mention his file or the note that Principal Billings sent to his parents. If he couldn’t find his ability (Principal Billings was convinced he didn’t have one) then he would be enrolled in Cordell Junior High come August.

He’d never had human friends. He knew how to act around them for the most part, but never being able to talk freely about his life again? To be constantly on guard against anyone learning what he and his parents were? It frightened him. He could never bring human friends home; it was forbidden. Would they become suspicious? Ashe worried about that, too.

Shoving hands in his pockets, he walked silently beside Sali and Cori as they made their way home. The day was fine and warmer than the one before, even if the ground was still soggy after the brief snowfall. Ashe might have stood in silent wonder as a rabbit leapt from a clump of dead grass and raced away, but his mind was clouded with personal misery.

A hint of green lay across the prairie, with the beginnings of new grass and wildflowers peeking between the taller, pale-brown stalks left over from the previous year. Slender stems waved cheerfully in an Oklahoma breeze as Ashe walked quietly homeward. Cori broke away first—her home was less than a quarter mile from the school. Sali and Ashe split shortly after, Sali going north, Ashe following the gravel road that ran next to his house.

The Evans home had an elaborate alarm system; Ashe punched the code on the keypad located outside the garage, letting himself in. Another keypad waited beside the kitchen door, with a separate code to get through it. Ashe keyed in the second code to get into the house.

It was only four-thirty; his mother wouldn’t be home for another two hours and his dad wouldn’t be awake until an hour after that. The thing Ashe liked most about the winter months was that his dad was up earlier in the evenings. During spring and summer, the daylight hours stretched endlessly.

A note lay on the kitchen table when Ashe went to the sink to get a glass of water. Your dad will take us to Oklahoma City to buy books tomorrow evening, his mother had written. Normally, that would have made Ashe punch the air in delight. They’d leave right after sunset, eat at a nice restaurant and then visit one of the bookstores that stayed open late.

After reading the two files in Principal Billings’ computer, Ashe was so depressed he didn’t feel like doing anything. He’d never met Randy Smith, but he didn’t think that writing a letter should result in someone’s death. The contents of the letter hadn’t been in the file; Ashe wondered what Mr. DeLuca had done with it. Briefly, he pictured himself as Randy Smith, with Principal Billings offering to execute him if he let anything slip at a human school. The thought made him shiver.