The Boy in my Locker

SERIAL STORY

CHAPTER 11: THE ESCAPE

Charlie rubbed his eyes and yawned. “What?” A group of men and women in white coats stepped into view behind him through the window. “This tribe of kids, they’ll die,” I said. “Help them get through the window. Help them live.” “What are you saying?” Charlie reached his hand out. “Save yourself, Aubrey. Don’t mess with science. You weren’t supposed to be there.” “Save these kids,” I replied. “No. Don’t mess around with this energy. Only bad things will come from this. They’re not supposed to cross over. You weren’t supposed to cross over. Come home.” I inched back off the stone and reached out my hand to Charlie. Cosmic flickers ignited between our fingers. “I have to save her, Charlie.” “No, don’t do it.” “I’m sorry.” *** I managed to slip past the tribe and navigated my way down to ground level, following Megan’s painful cries. I hated the girl, but this wasn’t right. The thicker air at the base of the ridge seeped inside me, bringing strength to my body again—my legs —my heart. Near a hole in the side of a rocky hill, a gas pit erupted, shoo ng up a giant nebulous glow. The seeker roamed nearby, absorbing the sporadic blasts of flame and hot gas. It had gills like it breathed underwater. With each breath, its muscles twitched and stretched, growing larger and stronger. Movement caught my eye a few metres to the le" of the pit. Megan waved her hand at me, cowering in a ball. Her head nudged to the right as she shi"ed her eyes to‐ ward a pile of twisted metal, a couple breathing masks, and debris. I looked closer.

Is that the trumpet case?

Megan shi"ed her head again, clearly hin ng for me to get it. I had to.

Is it blind?

Without hesita on, I carefully crawled over the uneven ground like a black panther. The seeker busied itself absorbing the toxic gases from the pit, totally unaware of my presence. With my hands shaking slightly, I unlatched the case. The slightest of noise penetrated the constant hum in the air as the case clicked open. The seeker shot it’s head up and turned to me, darting over at top speed. I dropped to my stomach and laid flat on the ground. Like before, it hovered close by, using its gills to navigate. Minutes passed before it migrated back to the pit. I li"ed my head and eyed Megan. She nodded, ready to communicate once again. We both knew me wasn’t on our side. I pointed up to the ridge—to the void between worlds—where the group waited—working relessly to harness energy from that stupid lever. I then pointed to my trumpet, signaling for her to run once I blew on it. She nodded. I was ready. I leaped over one of the smaller gas pits, lining up my body with the seeker, about thirty metres away. I closed my eyes, placing my lips on the mouthpiece. Taking in a deep breath I powered out all the air I had, le)ng out a triumphant, me‐ lodious, roar. A perfect note. I then dropped to the ground and laid flat on my stomach. Megan unraveled her body and sprinted along the long stretch of ground toward the ridge. The choking gas blurred my vision as the seeker bounded at me and the trumpet, unaware of the pit in its path. As it fell in, I pulled myself up and followed Megan. As we approached the ridge, I looked back to see the monster rising up out of the hole, now larger than before. “We go+a move!” I shouted. “Fast‐ er, faster!” I never took climbing in gym class, nor enjoyed ropes courses at camp, but Megan and I scaled that ridge faster than we both could have ever imagined. “Hurry, Dropzone, It’s right behind you.” Megan powered her way to the top, calling out to me. “Reach out your hand, Dropzone. You’re nearly there.” The air thinned immediately, my breath shortened. “I can’t, I can’t.” The rocks gave way under my feet. Angry grunts and snorts echoed from below. The seeker’s dark, menacing body, slithered up the crag. In seconds I would be pulled down to the base of the ridge and dragged back to its nest.

Don’t blow it...

In seconds I would find myself wai ng for the life to be drained from my body—from my soul. But as I glanced up one last me to Megan, prepared for my demise, the giant beast staggered on an unstable ledge and tumbled to the next overhang. “Move, Dropzone, move.” Megan stretched out and grabbed my arm, yanking me up to the peak. We were alive. We had made it. But we were alone. “He le" without us,” Megan said. “Your alien friend le" without us.” *** “Okay, everybody. This is it. This is what we’ve been prac cing since the Spring Concert.” Mr. Meebly slurped his coffee and smiled over to me. “Don’t be nervous. You’ve come a long way. All of you.” Parents, grandparents and even great‐grandparents filled the gymnasium. All of Wallington was there. “Are your fingers trembling?” Charlie sat beside me. “No, I’m fine,” I replied. “I’m sorry for too ng your horn last week. I didn’t realize it would send you to another planet.” The two of us giggled and turned back to Mr. Meebly. “Be quiet, Charlie. I’m focusing here.” Truent and the remaining Othello-3 survivors sat in the front row, decked out in the latest fashions from Old Navy and American Eagle. Truent thought his new look was ‘fascina ng’. Megan Knight sat next to him with her Empire pose. “Good luck, Dropzone!” she shouted. Out in the parking lot, hundreds of news reporters awaited— hoping to add the final touches to this surreal cosmic adventure from Wallington. “All right, instruments ready. This is it.” Mr. Meebly tapped the music stand in front of him and smiled. “Aubrey, glad to see your head is up. It looks like you’re proud of that trumpet.” “I am,” I announced. “More than ever before.” “Don’t blow it,” Charlie said as he nudged me. “Ha, just kidding.” Mr. Meebly began. “One, two, three and…” The band erupted into a wonderful ensemble of instrumental bliss. My eyes followed the notes on my music sheet. I squeezed my knees together, preparing to explode into a triumphant series of musical power and beauty. Mr. Meebly’s conductor-wand swayed rhythmically at the top of my sight-line. I held my breath and puckered my lips on the mouthpiece. I was ready. Two more bars un l my solo. One bar. And then, he stopped. The band stopped. A curious growling sound s rred the crowd. A long shadow appeared by the entrance to the gym... The end.