Academic Assassins (28 page)

T
here was a break in the security fence. The rusted chain-links folded back on themselves like decrepit petals on a metallic flower. A few yards
away, a pair of wire cutters had been tossed off in the grass.

Sully was gone.

I stood alone in the flowerbed and watched the Screaming Mimis prance along the front lawn for an impromptu outdoor dance party. Nobody told them they had to stop or keep calm or compose
themselves. They simply danced the day away.

“Wanna join?” one of them asked me.

I shook my head and started the walk back to Kesey.

The longest walk of my life.

Stepping inside the building, I was immediately greeted by Table Scrap and a handful of Orphans. He slammed the door shut behind me. “Just in time,” he said.

“For what?”

“Whatever we want.”

“Where's Merridew?” I asked.

“Hiding in her office,” he said. “That Board of Ed guy was a drag, so we cut him loose. Merridew ain't going nowhere.”

Scrap held up his arms. It looked like he was wearing a bunch of bracelets.

“Look what we found….Zip ties! The Men in White use 'em for restraining residents whenever there's a riot. We're heading from one exit to the next and strapping
each door with as many of these as the handles can hold. Nobody's getting in—and nobody's getting out. Wanna come help us?”

“No, thanks,” I said. “Think I'll take a stroll.”

“Suit yourself.” Scrap shrugged, cinching a zip tie over the door. “Just remember, captain—Kesey is all yours, now.”

I wandered down the hall, greeted by chaos wherever I went.

Kesey had been turned upside down. The ants now ran this place.

And I was responsible for all of it.

The floor of the laundry room was swiftly immersed under three inches of water that deluged out from the row of clogged appliances.

The longer I walked, surrounded by havoc, the less I felt like I was a part of it. Was this what it all amounted to? Is this the most we could do?

Nothing in me wanted to participate.

I felt outside of everything.

A ghost in my own home.

Home
.

I found Buttercup walking along the Yellow Brick Road.

“There you are,” she said with a beatific smile. “Where's your girlfriend?”

“Gone.”

“Figures,” Buttercup said with a huff. “Ready to run this place? It's ours now.”

“What've you got in mind?”

“Headcount in ten minutes. Believe me, you're not gonna want to miss this one.” She turned and hollered down the hall, “If there are adults left behind, please report to
your nearest tribesmen. Thank you and have a
goooooooood
day!”

Most of the Men in White had abandoned ship the moment they realized they were
über
-outnumbered. The remaining orderlies, all five of them, tried to hide, crawling under tables in
the mess hall or burrowing beneath the beds in our pods, but they were quickly weeded out.

Grayson found himself surrounded by a dozen stampeding Mimis. He tried to outrun them, but like Mimi always says—
‘Nice orderlies always finish last, but the Men in White will get
their asses handed to them by a band of pigtailed misfits.'

It's a commonly known fact that worker ants can heft fifty times their own body weight. Ever see a parade of those muscular little buggers marching off with your picnic lunch? Imagine that
same processional traipsing down the Yellow Brick Road—only now, instead of a piece of apple or Swiss cheese hoisted over their heads, it's the Men in White, each panic-attacked orderly
wrestling against the countless amount of clasping hands lifting them up and tossing them into the air.

And who was at the very front of our anarchic cavalcade but the queen of the hive herself? The one and only program director of the Kesey Reclamation Center…

Our hostess with the mostest…

Merridew.

“Put me down!” she shouted as she was hoisted up by the scrambling ants beneath her. She looked like a terrified beauty queen perched on top of the back seat of some out-of-control
convertible, the grand marshal of our tribal parade, waving her cupped hand to the onlookers along the Yellow Brick Road. Plant a tiara on top of that permed helmet of hair and wrap her up in a
silk sash—MISS ELECTROSHOCK, USA—and Merridew was good to go.

“Put me down this instant,” she demanded. “This has gone far enough!”

No—it hadn't. Not by a long-shot.

“My fellow Facilitators,” Buttercup announced from the floor of the Ant Farm. “All you Orphans and Napoleons! We run Kesey now! We are in control!”

A rising tide of roars lifted up from the swarm of surrounding ants. Over a hundred boys and girls lined the walls. We crammed around the newly remodeled Yellow Brick Road. Some climbed on each
other's shoulders for a good view.

I forced my way through the crowd until I was standing at the front. Buttercup caught my eye and nodded. “Want to say anything?”

“Seems like you've got it under control.”

“You sure?” she asked. “Just say the word, captain.”

“The floor is yours.”

Buttercup grinned, elated at the opportunity. “The rules are simple,” she continued. “There are no rules anymore!”

She brandished her finger at the row of sealed-off pods, each one holding their own Man in White mutely pounding their fists against the other side of the protective barrier, desperate for a way
out.

Grayson thrust his shoulder against the Plexiglas. The fury on his face left him looking like a battle-scarred gorilla struggling to break free from its cage.

Merridew stood stock-still in her own pod, arms crossed at her chest. Her chin remained lifted. She wouldn't dignify this unruly behavior with any sort of reaction, as cool as a moldy
cucumber. Her lips were as rigid as rock. She breathed through her nose. Her flaring nostrils were the only part of her body that moved.

So—guess who was wearing the dog collars now?

Merridew's lovely fashion accessory seemed to add an extra inch to her neck. It almost looked as if her throat had grown, her head extending up into the air a bit.

Grayson's collar looked like a Band-Aid holding his head on his shoulders. If he took it off, I'd worry his noggin might roll right off and tumble across the floor.

And guess who had the remote controls?

Come on. Just guess. I'll give you a hint….

Not the Men in White.

Certainly not Merridew.

After the ants grabbed them from the Men in White, each tribe was responsible for their very own Control Response Unit.

“You have all had your fun,” Merridew intoned. “Now release me before this goes any further and you do something you truly regret.”

“I got no regrets,” Buttercup said. “Do any of you have any regrets?”

A resounding
NO!
ricocheted off the walls of the Ant Farm.

Buttercup stepped toward Merridew's pod and instinctively Merridew stepped back from the Plexiglas.

“Need I remind you,” Merridew tried, her syrupy voice seeping through the Plexiglas, sounding like a bug in a jar. “Your actions today will have severe
consequences
for
the rest of your life.”

Buttercup looked back to the mass of ants and called out, “Bring out Babyface!”

I turned to see the crowd of ants part. Babyface slowly shuffled out from the swarm, his face still a placid mask of brainwashed bliss.

Buttercup held up the remote. “Let's see how much you've been reclaimed.”

Babyface stared at the C.R.U. for a moment before taking it from Buttercup. He turned the remote over in his hand a couple times, as if he were studying it.

“Listen to me,” Merridew intoned through the Plexiglas. “Put the remote down and open the door. Is that understood?”

Babyface stared back at her, unflinching. I had no idea what was going through his mind. All that time in solitary had wiped his cerebral slate clean.

But I could see a spark in his eye. I watched it grow brighter.

I stepped forward. “Babyface…”

He turned to me without a word. Only those eyes, glowing. Burning back to life.

“Whatever you're thinking of doing,” I said, “you don't have to….”

The spark in his eye flushed with fire. Babyface turned to Grayson, staring out from his pod. “Tell you what,” Babyface finally said. “How about the Men in
White go first? We wanna start you off on the right foot, don't we?”

That sounded familiar. Grayson had said the exact same thing when Babyface and I first got here.

“If you can make it from one end of the gallery to the other without stepping off the Yellow Brick Road…” Babyface was doing his best impression of Grayson, throwing his words
right back in his face, “…I'll overlook today's little infraction.
Is that understood?
”

A round of laughter erupted from the ants as they parted down the line and stepped back, forming a corridor from one end of the Farm to the next.

Grayson backed away from the Plexiglas. He knew where this was heading.

“No….” He shook his head. “No way, no how. Don't you even think—”

Buttercup turned to Table Scrap, manning the controls to all the pods. “
Release the adults!
”

Table Scrap punched the switchboard. Every last button. All at once, the Plexiglas doors slid open with a swift
swish
, like the starting gates at the horse track.

And theeeeeeeey're off!

Grayson bolted out from his pod first and quickly took the lead, making a break for the exit. For the first few steady strides, he kept his feet on the freshly painted slash, but then we all saw
his heel suddenly land several inches off the yellow parameters.

Babyface aimed his remote control at his back and—

Zzzzzzst!

Grayson's spine bent backwards. His knees gave out, sending him toppling. He flopped over the Yellow Brick Road like a fish out of water, clutching at his neck.

“I'm gonna get you…all…for this….”

When Babyface lifted his finger, Grayson shook the electrical current off as best he could and picked himself back up, trudging forward once more. Panic had overtaken his face. He made a beeline
for the doors, his feet well off the yellow line.

Babyface promptly responded, “Payback's a—”

Zzzzst!

Grayson's neck jerked to the left and his knees softened once more, sending the rest of his body into a floppy barrel roll over the floor. His lips peeled back in a grimace, his gritted
teeth chattering ever so slightly with electricity.

It's so easy to press a button and not understand the
consequences
.

Grayson was getting a lesson in
consequences
right now.

We all were.

The rest of the Men in White stumbled out from their pods. One orderly would take the lead, only for the tribesmen holding the remote to send them to the floor. Before long, the adults were
flopping along, wrestling with the electricity.

Merridew hadn't left her pod. Buttercup stepped inside and found her cowering on the cot.

“
Animals
,” the word shuddered out from Merridew's mouth. I could see the fissures in her foundation spread across her forehead. “Nothing but
wild
animals!
”

“Maybe.” Buttercup clasped onto the lapel of Merridew's suit and dragged her out into the Farm. “But who made us that way?”

“Stop,” I shouted.

Buttercup turned toward me. When Merridew spotted me, her eyes locked on and never left.

“What do you mean
stop
?” Buttercup asked. “We're just getting started.”

“We're better than this.”

“Says who?
You?
” Buttercup laughed. “You started it!”

“What's your problem?” Table Scrap stepped forward and pointed an accusing finger at Merridew. “Every last scrap of personal freedom has gone down the crapper thanks to
her. She says she's got our best interests at heart—but what kind of heart has us noosed to a dog collar? This woman has pumped enough electricity into our skulls to fry every last
brain cell we've got. We were her lab rats! You said it yourself!”

“I have felt nothing but love for you, Spencer,” Merridew insisted. “All of you.”

The Screaming Mimis howled from the crowd—“Mimi always says—‘
We hurt the ones we love the most.
'”

Merridew attempted to entreat her Peer Facilitators. “Stop this at once and I promise I will overlook this indiscretion. We can discuss an early reprieve from—”

“Do you know what Merridew was up to?” Scrap wouldn't let her finish her sentence, cutting in and explaining to the rest. “She was gonna release her electroshockers on
the world. Kids everywhere were gonna get collared like we've been.”