We arrived at John F. Kennedy High School in Acton, Mass around noon the next day. Because it was a school they were able to find me a wheelchair in the nurse's office to use until my leg was healed enough to walk on. It was a pretty nice set up they had going on, it was pretty much a disgruntled military base filled with untrained civilian soldiers. In other words, it was a militia.
There were plenty of people, hundreds even, enough to form a small village. Me and my friends were gradually accepted into their community and they all seemed to be happy here, but I wasn't. every minute we spent playing army men was another minute where my brother could be Scamper chow or something. When I expressed this thought to Tom – who was the only person in the Second Mass I felt close to – he told me what Scampers really did to the kids they took.
"Apparently, what they do," Tom said one night as we sat on our separate bunks – they had put me and my friends in the same room as the Masons – "is take the kids into this special area and connect this thing we called a Harness onto their backs. It allows the Skidders to connect with the children on a telekinetic level, commanding them what to do. Image if the south had those in the Civil War," Tom was a History teacher, so he naturally made history references a lot.
"So you're telling me that my brother is probably a slave to the Scam—Skidders?" I asked revolted.
"Yeah," Tom said solemnly. "Listen, we haven't given up hope, though. Our local medic, Anne, is trying to think of a way to remove the harness without killing the host."
"How successful has she been?" I asked hopefully.
Tom was quiet for a moment, before saying, "She hasn't successfully saved anyone… yet," he added sternly when he saw the glum look on my face.
"Listen," I said, "let's not talk about getting the Harness things off until we know our boys are actually Harnessed, alright?"
"Agreed," Tom said, nodding slowly.
"I'm going to head to the mess hall," I said, pulling myself into the wheelchair. I wheeled down the hall and saw Joe walking toward me.
"Hey," he said.
"What's going on?" I asked him, people were gathering around a billboard on the wall.
"People are putting up pictures of their kids, for the scouts. You know, like wanted posters kind of."
"Hmm," I said, nodding slowly. It was a good idea, but a false hope at that.
"So I'm going out with some of the sentry men," Joe said, "we're going to do a scouting run."
"Go for it," I said, wheeling into the mess hall. I got my food and looked around the Café. On the other side of the café sat Hal Mason, Tom's eldest son, and Maggie. I wheeled over and stopped making a car screech sound with my mouth… don't judge.
"Hey, Chris," Hal said, looking over from Maggie.
"Hey Hal," I said, nodding at him, then Maggie. "Hey Maggie."
"Hey," Maggie said, smiling slightly. Her smile faded, though, when her eyes snapped up over my shoulder.
"Well, well, well," came an oh so familiar voice. "If it isn't the little spit fuck that tricked us out of our guns." I turned to see Pope, the man who had kidnapped me and my friends.
"Oh," I said awkwardly. "Hi," I said like the Joker in the Dark Knight. "How ya been?"
"How've I been?" Pope asked, a flicker of hatred in his eyes. "How have I been? You take all my guns, one of my trucks, knockout my girl here, kill my two boys and you ask me how I have been?"
"Well," I said, thinking long and hard before saying, "Yeah."
The flicker of hatred was a full flame now and Pope grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me up to my feet.
"Listen to me you little cripple," Pope hissed, "you may be protected by the professor and the Captain, but don't think I can't make it look like an accident."
"Ooooh," I said like a ghost, "I'm so scared."
Pope brought up his fist to deck me, but before he could move it down an inch there was the sound of a shotgun being loaded.
"Pope, put him down," Hal had gotten up and was aiming his gun at Pope's head.
Pope released me and I fell back into my chair, he backed away with his hands halfway up. "Alright," he said, completely calm, but the wildfire of hatred was still raging in his eyes. "You're safe now, runt," Pope said to me. "But you won't always have pretty boy here to keep you safe." He turned and stormed away; Hal lowered his gun and looked at me.
"You alright, man?" He asked.
"Yeah," I said, nodding, I was shaking slightly. To be honest, I was scared shitless.
"Eat your food," Hal said, walking away. "I'm going on scouting patrol."
I looked at Maggie and she watched me for a moment. Then I said, "So, uh, Pope's all talk right? One of those, bark is worse than his bite kinda fellow?"
"I wish I could say yes," Maggie said. "Unfortunately his bite is worse than bark, and he barks like Clifford."
"Great," I said. "I've pissed off a big red dog."
"He's more like a hellhound," Maggie said, standing up. "I'm going to go on Scout patrol with Hal and them. Good luck." And with that, Maggie strode off after Hal, leaving me alone in the mess hall… with Pope in the next room. At that thought I shuddered and wheeled away so fast I thought I was going to get pulled over for speeding. I figured the safest place to be was with Weaver or Tom for the time being, until Pope could set his sights on some other poor sucker.