CHAPTER 72

THE WAY HUDSON SAW IT, the pack and the litter only had two choices once they knew Pancake caught them on video.

A. Back off. Maybe even be nice, hoping the video clips would never be shown.

B. Step it up. Intimidate —to make sure the video clips would never be shown.

He’d guessed they’d go with A. Now he was second-guessing.

Pancake kept looking over his shoulder toward the office. “Think they actually have something planned —or is she just blowing smoke?”

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Maggie said. “Kat doesn’t bluff.”

Hudson was afraid Maggie was right. “We have to stick together.”

“I vote we turn around and talk to Mrs. Jackson . . . all together,” Maggie said.

“And abort Operation Show and Tell?” Pancake shook his head. “Not a chance. We’re not letting them off that easy, not when we’ve got a rock-solid plan.”

Maggie shook her head. “The only thing remotely rock-solid around here is your head, Flapjack. This is going to end in disaster.”

“So, I’m Flapjack again?”

“When you talk like that you are.”

Hudson had to keep the team from spinning apart. “Look, it’s like we’re digging an escape tunnel to be free from the bullying for good. We’re almost there. The real disaster would be to stop now.”

“We’re not digging a tunnel,” Maggie said. “We’re digging a grave. Our own.”

“Okay.” Hudson stopped. “Our plan may backfire. But we’re doing it with or without you —so stop with the gloom and doom. If we don’t stop fighting ourselves we’ll fail for sure.”

For just an instant surprise flickered in her eyes.

Even Hudson didn’t like the way he came across there. “Look, all I’m saying —”

Maggie held up both hands. “Oh, I got it. You were really clear. Let’s get to class.”

Which made Hudson feel worse. But she stuck with them, and that said something. What he really wanted was for her to trust his judgment. Maybe if she did, he’d stop questioning it himself.

Hudson and Maggie escorted Pancake to his first class. On the way, they roughed out a fast plan to meet between classes. Safety in numbers.

“We just need to make it through today. Tomorrow will take care of itself.” Hudson totally believed that. Once the videos went public, the pack and the litter wouldn’t dare attack. They’d be too busy answering questions. And filling out applications for military boarding schools.

Pancake hesitated before going into the classroom. “Think they’ll get suspended for like a month when the video gets out?”

Maggie crossed her fingers and held them up. “Or maybe a transfer to juvie hall.”

A slow smile grew on Pancake’s face like he was seeing the whole thing unfold. “Oh, yeah. I’m loving this. I’ll meet you both —right here —after class.” He ducked into the classroom.

The pass from Mrs. Jackson had the time written on it. “We gotta haul.” Hudson and Maggie took off at a jog for Miss Joyson’s class.

The morning passed in kind of a blur. Hudson noticed two things during breaks between periods. First, there were more red shoes than ever. The Red Shoe Brigade was an army now. He found some comfort in that. They were making a statement against bullying, but would they really step up if they saw someone getting bullied? If he could count on them for a little bodyguard work, he’d have no worries.

Second, the pack and the litter weren’t traveling in groups together at all. They were always alone. Weird. He’d catch one of them at an intersection in the hallways, watching and texting. Somehow he sensed they were watching —for them. There’d be a moment of eye contact. Then they’d go back to their phones. By the time Hudson, Pancake, and Maggie headed for lunch, Hudson was on high alert. They took a roundabout way to the cafeteria.

Pancake actually waved when they turned onto B Hall and passed Zattora leaning against the corner. Zattora gave Pancake a tough-guy smirk —like he knew something. He went back to his phone.

“He’s texting,” Maggie said. She had that “processing” look on her face.

Hudson checked over his shoulder. “And now he’s following us.” An alarm started ringing in his head.

Kat joined Zattora. Alexa came out of nowhere and walked shoulder to shoulder with the other two. Not good. “Okay, guys,” Hudson said. “Something’s going on.”

Pancake thumbed his glasses up and pointed. “Alternate route.”

They dodged down E Hall. Maggie gave a shoulder-check. “Still following. Still texting. They’re using their phones to let each other know where we are.”

She was right. Hudson’s stomach clenched. Were they coordinating an attack? That would be crazy. “Let’s move.”

Maggie grabbed Hudson’s arm. “Wolfe. Skirt. Jo. Dead ahead.”

The three rounded the corner like they’d come from the cafeteria —and stood by the doors at Exit 8 —obviously waiting, or intending to block their way. But what could they do in a crowded hallway? Hudson checked up and down the hall for a teacher.

“Hudson!” Maggie definitely looked scared. “They’re moving in from behind!”

Hudson braced himself, but for what?

“Follow me.” Pancake turned onto D Hall. “Beneath the Surface.”

They broke out in a run for the hallway door leading to the art room. Pancake threw open the door. “Go, go, go!” Pancake whipped down the short hall and took the stairs two at a time. “If they follow —and Mr. Mann isn’t there —we go right out the emergency exit and circle around the building.”

Maggie stayed on Pancake’s heels, and Hudson followed, banging down the stairs behind them.

Pancake yanked on the door to the art room, and it didn’t budge. He grabbed the handle with both hands and shook it again.

“Mr. Mann.” Maggie pounded on the door. “Please!”

That’s when Hudson saw the sheet of paper taped to the door. Field trip to Art Museum today. If you’re reading this sign, you missed the bus.

“We’re trapped.” Pancake pressed his back against the door. “Now what?”

For an instant Hudson looked underneath the stairs. The life-sized witch cutout from Snow White grinned like she’d planned the whole thing —and he’d fallen for it. “We can’t stay here.”

The door above them opened. Wolfe. Skirt. Zattora.

Wolfe leaned over the rail while Skirt and Zattora circled around him toward the stairs.

Zattora glanced at the note and smiled. “Missed the bus, Freak Show? You’re going to look like you got hit by a bus by the time we’re done with you.”