WARRIORS HIGH
ISLAND OF THE LOST
ARC 1 - SOCIETY OF LIARS
CHAPTER SEVEN
REORGANIZE
"I've heard quite a bit about you, Dustleap."
"Please," said the boy from his chair politely, "I prefer to go by Dusty."
"Ah yes. Alright. Now I'm quite aware of the situation under which you were brought here."
"I'd be surprised if you weren't."
The older man smiled sympathetically, the shine in his glasses matching the nameplate reading "CROOKEDSTAR" at the front of his desk. "So you're entering junior year here, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"And I suspect you are also aware of the classes this year that are necessary for graduation next year?"
"Of course."
"Well, that's fantastic," said the man, smiling warmly, "If that is the case, then I shall submit the schedule you turned in on your transfer packet. Do you have any questions?"
"Just one," said Dusty.
"Of course."
Dusty rustled through his papers when his phone vibrated. He hesitated only a moment, though, until he pulled out a sheet of papers. "I would like to be moved into the Honors class for 'Field Training.'"
Crookedstar wrote what he said on a notepad embellished with the Warriors High logo in sky blue on the top while speaking, "Yes, I think we can arrange for that. We were originally going to cut the class because of lack of interest, but I think now we have enough participants to get the green light from administration."
Geez, thought Dusty, rolling his eyes inwardly, this guy's such a suck-up.
His phone vibrated twice in his pocket again. Once again he left it alone.
"I'd also like to ask for complete historical anonymity."
Crookedstar was either thrown off by the terminology or wasn't ready for the expectations. "What do you mean?"
I can't let anyone know about my identity. If anyone with malicious intent finds out where I come from, my safety is basically completely compromised. I would prefer that the identity of me and my companions remains between you, me and the government of this island."
"Listen, Dusty, while we are sympathetic to what you've been through, to ask for full governmental protection would cost us significant funding we probably don't have. Administration is placing 90% of funding on law enforcement. I'm sure you're aware that Forrestlake just went through a full-blown riot that took weeks to clean up."
Dusty leaned forward. He clearly wasn't getting it. "Sir, the entire I applied here and not for some witness protection program is because I need to blend in. I and my family have been targeted since the bombings, and if I hide obviously, then they'll find me ten times faster."
"Dusty," said the headmaster, rubbing his eyes behind his spectacles, "ARS has been dormant since the bombings. I doubt you are in danger from them-"
Dusty stood and slammed his palm on the desk.
"Do I need to remind you that they killed 6,000 people in a week?"
Normally, Crookedstar knew how to deal with rebellious students acting out like this, but he didn't react. He was obviously terrified. He couldn't risk pushing him any further.
They held the other's gaze before Crookedstar picked up the phone and dialed the Capital.
Dusty relaxed in his chair and looked around the room for the first time. Around the khaki-shaded room he saw three or four vases of white flowers, obviously living and well-kept, a very nice and photogenic picture of the Forrestlake skyline just above the headmaster's head, and what looked to be two campaign photos on opposite sides of the room. On the left was a very professional and solemn picture of Crookedstar smiling gently and shaking hands with a woman with shoulder-length blue-dyed hair of equal height. She looked cold and calculating, no-nonsense and prone to inducing terror in all rooms she walked into.
The emblem read "CAMPAIGN DIRECTOR CROOKEDSTAR WITH DEPUTY-IN-WAITING CANDIDATE BLUESTAR 2016"
He looked to the right to see almost the complete opposite of the picture he just observed. In the picture on the right, Crookedstar was grinning widely and arm wrapped around his shoulder was a red-orange-colored, wildly charismatic man acting like he was at a college party.
This emblem read "CAMPAIGN DIRECTOR CROOKEDSTAR WITH DEPUTY-IN-WAITING ELECT FIRESTAR 2022"
So that's who "administration" was.
He pulled out his phone to check who was texting him, but when he saw nothing, he quickly unlocked the phone and opened his setting to "Apps Running."
He scrolled all the way down to see an app called "Safety First," an app that looked to be designed for five-year-olds, and he sighed in annoyance.
The vibrating made sense now.
"Alright," said Crookedstar, "I'll let him know."
He hung up and looked at Dusty, who straightened up and stuffed his phone away. "Firestar has agreed to alter the forms and has given an executive order to keep your identity anonymous."
"Thank you," he said, heaving a sigh of relief, "I believe that is all, then."
"Yes," said the headmaster, relieved that they wouldn't start the year on bad terms, "You are free to go."
He was halfway out the door when he stopped.
'Actually, I have one more request for you, headmaster."
"I'm all ears."
"Do you, perchance, have any music electives open for enrollment?"
Crookedstar was obviously caught off guard. "Music?"
"If there's any available."
The headmaster opened a lower drawer and pulled out a thick packet. "Let me see...Is that your phone?"
Dusty, who was trying to ignore how his phone was now vibrating consistently, abruptly pulled out his phone and held the power button until he turned it off. "Sorry about that."
Crookedstar shrugged it off, placing a list on the edge of his desk. "Here, why don't you take this home? Your schedule right now is pretty set in stone since you're transferring in, but we have plenty of after school electives for you to choose."
Dusty took the sheet and scanned it, smiling the biggest since he walked in. "Thank you, sir."
"My pleasure, Dusty," he said, shaking his hand, "Now get plenty of rest. You have school on Monday."
The most frustrating part of Jaywhisker's life is that nobody appreciated his genius enough.
Most of the time, everyone argued about it.
That's exactly what he walked into that morning. After pulling an all-nighter working on his Bedwars winstreak in Minecraft ("I'm coming for you, Technoblade" was his motto), he walked in at around 10 that morning to see Coalstrike and Ashtooth in a heated argument about his phone voice tracker.
"Don't you see? He snuck something in there to tell him we're listening! We need to start making sure his trackers are undetectable!"
"Jesus, man! The kid's paranoid enough! Can you at least give him some freedom?"
"Oh yes! Absolutely! When we've finally won this goddamn war!"
"Why do you keep tracking him, anyway? You two already don't get along! Are you trying to make it worse?"
"I'm saying that ARS could be anywhere! Have you read about this place? Not two years ago there was an active terrorist group here!"
"That was two years ago! The authorities got them! Why can't you trust the authorities at least a little bit?!"
"Remember the last time we all did that?"
Ashtooth threw his arms in the air. "Fine! Fuck America! They're a society of stuck-up cowards! That's what you always say, isn't it? THIS ISN'T AMERICA! Can you try to at least trust that they'll do good work?!"
"No."
"Oh, for God's sake...why not?!"
Coalstrike's arms were crossed. "The last time I did, over 6,000 people died."
"That doesn't mean it'll happen again!"
"How do you know?"
"You're being WAY too cynical!"
"And you're being WAY too trusting."
Now Jaywhisker rolled his eyes. This was all they seemingly argued about: combat plans, his inventions and how much they should hate America.
They were polar opposites. It was a wonder how they could bother living with each other in the same house.
"'Safety First?'"
The argument fizzled out when everyone turned to the entrance hall to see Dusty leaning on the column, his arms crossed and his mouth contorted into an amused smirk. "Couldn't you have picked a more inconspicuous name if you're so bent on tracking everything I say?"
Silently, the two broke apart and took a seat on opposite couches in the huge living room.
"So," he said after taking a energy drink from the almost empty mini fridge, "You were chattering up a storm when I asked for a music elective."
Ashtooth was obviously caught off guard. "How did you-"
"I figured that you would arrange for a tracking device of some sort, so when you added in on my phone, I asked Jaywhisker to have it vibrate whenever you speak when you're listening in."
Coalstrike stood up to find that Jaywhisker had made the smart choice to run and hide in the basement.
Usually, Dusty would be mad, but he looked exhausted as he downed half of his drink in one gulp. "Are you physically unable to trust me? Do you need a doctor to look at you?"
"Geez, sarcasm much?" said Ashtooth, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, I wasn't talking about you," he said to Ashtooth.
He got up and stood in front of Coalstrike, who had sat back down by now.
"We're family," he growled, "We've been through the worst pains God has thrown at us. So why won't you trust me?"
Coalstrike's face scrunched up, screaming a statement he clearly didn't want anyone to hear, before he got up and walked up the stairs to his room.
So by now, you're wondering about where they are, right?
Absolute no one was expecting Foxleap to drive them to a massive three story mansion on a mountain overlooking Forrestlake. And he sure wasn't expecting them to have mixed reactions of concern to mind-blowing fury of them essentially living with a fat target on their roof.
(Guess who that last one was)
After preventing Coalstrike from ripping apart the poor redhead limb from limb (Foxleap used the reasoning of unsuspecting a mansion for the hideout of the soldiers used to hiding), he gave them the grand tour, which included spacious bedrooms, a beautiful view from the top floor windows, and, probably most important to the war-tested inhabitants, a shelter-in-place lockdown security system, a massive armory hidden behind the back oven wall ("Hopefully," he had joked, "You're not waiting on your meat lovers pizza when you're ambushed.") and a huge control room set up in the basement, which had its own remote controlled door (Jaywhisker called dibs the moment he saw the eight 58" monitors while everyone else wondered how this man could possibly have half of America's national debt in cash at his own disposal). They decided on sleeping arrangements, with Jaywhisker staking out in the "Foxcave 2.0" (Good Lord, was this guy pretentious), The adults and Russetleap taking the three bedrooms on the second floor, and Dusty getting the biggest room on the top floor, which, as Foxleap hinted to, also had an emergency escape route.
Seeing that he was elected there by Coalstrike immediately after he heard about that only confirmed his sparse lack of trust, at least that's how he thought of it.
But for now, until school started for Dusty, Jay and little Russ, they just chilled, trying to relax for the first time in almost forever.
Chill meaning that Seashell and Mallowleaf were doing pacer laps up and down the sidewalk up and down the mountain, about a mile distance with their guns armed and ready if things got ugly, Daffodil was throwing knives on the top floor landing and Coalstrike was probably taking his frustrations out on a punching bag he ordered the day before.
Sheesh. This family needed a vacation. Always in some state of organization and reorganization.
"Do you think ARS will get us here?" asked Dusty, sitting next to Ashtooth.
"Who knows?" said Ashtooth, twirling his gray pistol in his right hand while sipping the hard cider in his left, "It's always a matter of 'when' when it comes to them. We just need to be as prepared as we can be when it comes to them."
In one of the several alleyways in the grand city of Forrestlake, a girl with light blue tipped hair stared at her phone, praying that the person he was calling would pick up.
"Hello," said the man, in a very fake, very bad English accent, "You've probably reached the wrong number, but if you know who this is, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
The girl smiled and put the phone to her ear. "Hey Jack, it's me. I hope you're doing well."
She sighed. "Today was a pretty good day. Everyone seems to be holding up okay. Jayfeather's as grumpy as ever, Ivypool's still trying to get over being the bridesmaid for Dovewing's wedding, and Foxleap's just been a hermit like always. Come upstairs twice a day, grab a six-pack of beer and disappear," she chuckled, "We can all just pray he's being productive."
She sighed heavily. She wasn't supposed to run out of things to say this quickly.
"I miss you, J. I miss you every day. When you get this, please call. I wanna talk to you again."
Her shoulders slumped. "I love you. See you soon."
She hung up.
She scrolled through her call history aside from the occasional call from her brother, there stood 104 calls to one Jack Graves. Twice a day, every day, no response.
Her heart felt hollow as she when to the home menu and opened her phone assistant.
"Hello, Icecloud. How can I help you today?"
Icecloud held the bottom of her phone to her mouth. "Find directions to 'Graystripe's Diner.'"
"Ok. Starting route to Graystripe's Diner."
She was about to depart when she froze.
She turned her phone off and put it in her pocket.
She listened.
She heard a rustle.
Another.
And she roundhoused around and landed a blow in her stalker's gut, expelling the air out of him and making him drop the chloroform-soaked cloth in his hand. She whipped forward, grabbing his right hand with her own right hand and sending him belly first into the pavement hard, restraining his wrists and stamping on his upper back.
"What the hell do you want?" growled Icecloud, "Who are you?"
The man groaned, making eye contact with her and showing the pain in his eyes.
And then he smiled.
"A distraction."
She barely had time to react when she felt the taser dart pierce the back of her neck, shaking her off and sending her to her knees with a scream.
The man got up quickly, retrieving the cloth and stuffing it in front of her mouth and nose.
She had no chance to fight.
Icecloud was unconscious before she hit the ground.
Why not start the real shit with a legit cliffhanger?
Heheh.
Next chapter, the crew start school! Plus maybe an interaction between the soldiers and the Three. I don't know yet. We'll see.
Oh, and be a bit concerned about Icecloud while you're at it. I'm boutta go all evil genius on her. Y'all have no idea.
And she absolutely won't be the first.
Brace yourselves. A storm is coming.
Best,
~Res