DR. CATALYST HURRIED THROUGH THE BACK OF THE school. He cursed himself for lingering too long in the hallway. And for forgetting to wear his ski mask, which he now donned. The four kids, ridiculously dressed in football gear, had undoubtedly spotted him. It was a foolish mistake. Once he retrieved the idiot Newton from his futile attempt at escape, he needed to take time and regroup. It would be especially troubling if Calvin had managed to get a good look at him.

There was no time to worry about that now. He had only been visible to them for a few seconds. And he was at the far end of a hallway, with hundreds of Blood Jackets buzzing about. It was unlikely they would be able to identify him.

The end of the hallway held the room that housed the school’s electrical systems, heating, and air-conditioning. He stopped at the door. It was a single knob, so there was no way to secure it with one of his zip ties. He looked around for something he might use to jam it but couldn’t find anything. If those children were pursuing him, they would be here in a few seconds. He left the door alone.

This area of the building also housed janitorial supplies and various other items needed to operate the school. As he passed the main ventilation duct, Dr. Catalyst could hear the shrieks and the flapping, scratching wings of his creations inside. They must have nested in the cavernous system of air tunnels within the school. Watching them in action had been delightful.

Working his way through the maze of equipment, he reached the door leading to the outside of the school. Carefully, he cracked it open and looked out into the darkness. There was no one around. He slipped outside, and quickly slid a zip tie through the door handle, winding it through a bracket bolted to the doorframe. Let that little snot Emmet Doyle try and get out now.

As he turned from the door he froze, remembering something.

He looked down at the fake FBI Windbreaker he was wearing. The fact that he had made his way into the school for a few seconds and let the kids see him without his face covered did not concern him. Even if Calvin had spotted him, he was far away and they were distracted by the Blood Jackets, and Dr. Catalyst had only been visible for a few seconds.

But he had spoken to the police officer at the front of the school.

If Emmet and Calvin and the others survived, authorities would question them. Undoubtedly they would report spotting someone in the school. Even with a vague description, the police officer might remember that a lone FBI agent claiming to be driving through the area had stopped to offer assistance. The officer was trained to observe, and he had clearly seen Dr. Catalyst’s face. Then they could construct a suspect sketch, and an image would be broadcast all over the area, making it more difficult for him to move about and complete his work.

Dr. Catalyst groaned. It was difficult to accept that all of these variables were interfering with his plans. His first Pterogator had been found by one of Dr. Geaux’s rangers. Then that cursed Emmet Doyle had shown up, forcing the events that led to the necessity of kidnapping his father. Now he had to deal with that idiot Newton. He almost hoped something in the swamp would eat the buffoon just to shorten his list of chores.

One thing after another had gone wrong. Perhaps bringing about the type of cataclysmic change he hoped to achieve was too daunting a task for one man.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Ridiculous. He was Dr. Catalyst, brilliant and cunning.

One of the things that had gotten him this far was his photographic memory. It allowed him to remember even the most arcane scientific data. With his talented mind he could recall reams of complex formulas.

It was this very ability that allowed him to remember the name tag on the uniform of the officer he had spoken to earlier. Stukaczowski. The name sounded familiar for some reason, but he couldn’t remember why. He would need to be dealt with. And soon. As he thought, Dr. Catalyst worked his damaged arm against his thigh, remembering that moment in the Glades when the Pterogator had turned on him. So much to do. All because of Emmet Doyle.

Just as he was about to slip away into the darkness, he heard frightened screams coming from inside the school, so loud they carried over the sound of the fire alarm. That must be Emmet, Calvin, and their friends, undoubtedly experiencing the singular focus of the Blood Jackets, who would now be driven nearly mad with the need to feed. There was nowhere for the kids to hide.

Dr. Catalyst removed the ski mask and headed for his truck, unable to keep the smile from his face.