(Frank's POV)
The next morning I awake to the sound of the alarm on my phone. The room is pitch dark and still, except for the birds twittering outside. I feel across the bed, realizing Jenny isn't there. She must be out on her morning run.
I slide out of bed and go over to the window, pulling the curtains open. The patch of sky I can see is charcoal-grey. Dark clouds hover menacingly. Perfect Valentine's Day weather… not. Speaking of which, I want to prepare something special for Jenny before she comes back from her jog. I head out the bedroom and I creep down the stairs. Before I head to the kitchen, I notice that the front door is wide open.
That's odd, I wonder. Jen never leaves the door open when she goes out jogging.
I shut the front door and proceed to the kitchen, where I get the ingredients to make pancakes. And not just any old pancakes – Valentine heart-shaped pancakes. I make eighteen within fifteen minutes, finishing it off with strawberries on the side and sprinkle with powdered sugar. I know Jenny won't be able to eat eighteen pancakes in one sitting so I half the portion. I settle down and have the other half of the pancakes, and then I head up to the bathroom for a shower.
After getting dressed, I head back downstairs and I find that the pancakes are still on the table. Jen's not back? Maybe she headed to St Hope's after her jog. She still needs to make some last minute preparations for tonight's dance.
I wrap the pancakes and place them in the fridge. Then I collect my Valentine gifts for Jen – a heart-shaped box of chocolates, perfume, and greetings card. I grab my coat, and I open the door and slip outside. The morning air is chilly and wet as I hop down the steps, searching my coat pocket for my car keys. I let the car warm up for a few minutes. A little doubt creeps into my mind. I'm glancing around the street, seeing that it looks kind of… empty. There are no lights in the windows of the houses and no people out walking or getting in their cars to go where they need to be.
That's strange – people should be out and about now, I ponder.
Looking in the rear-view mirror at the still deserted street, I put the car in drive, and head toward St Hope's. Not much traffic at this time in the morning. Not much traffic at all. Where is everybody? I wonder to myself.
It's only when I drive through the high street that I regret asking that question. I stop the car, cut the engine and stare in disbelief. Everywhere is absolutely wrecked. It's like there was some sort of riot. Some of the buildings are damaged with broken windows and have been looted. Other buildings, as well as cars, have been set on fire – some are burnt-out and some are still alight. Walls are covered with graffiti. Even the street lights have been damaged – with sparks flying out in an arc.
"Oh, my God," I murmur. I climb out of the car and take a few steps, wondering what happened and at the same time wondering who or what could have done this.
Just then I hear a noise.
I whirl around, my eyes darting round the deserted and ruined street, to see where it's coming from. There's no-one around.
"Hello? Is anybody here?" I call.
Silence.
"Hello?"
I jump when I hear a door creaking open… I pause – then I slowly turn, a look of genuine fear in my face as the door slowly edges open and out leaps… a cat!
"Phew," I sigh in relief. Not what I'm expecting. It's only a cat… I turn to go back to the car – and jump again when I see a young girl, who looks about nine or ten, standing close by. Her face is buried in her hands – she appears to be crying.
"Hello," I say. The girl says nothing. I take two steps forward. "What's your name? Where are your parents?"
No reply.
"Why are you crying? Do you know what happened here?" I ask, walking closer – but I stop when the girl glares up at me. Her eyes look empty and worse than that, there are no tears streaming down her face. What is going on?
Out of nowhere, the girl launches herself at me, tackling me to the ground. She's on top of me, scratching and clawing my face – or at least she's trying to. I can tell that her fingernails have been bitten right down so that the ends of her fingers bulged.
That aside I need to find a way to get the child off me without hurting her. And I have to think quickly, because now that the girl knows she can't scratch my eyes out, she has her hands around my neck – and I think I might have it. I reach out and applying pressure to the base of her neck, the girl is rendered unconscious and falls on top of me.
For a moment I don't move.
I gently roll the girl off me, laying her next to me. Then I sit up, trying to catch my breath and figuring why a ten-year-old girl attacked me. But I look up and see a large group of women and children – all girls – standing some distance away. They're all glaring at me – their eyes cold and empty. They start walking towards me. Slowly at first, but now they're picking up a bit of speed. I have to get out of here – but I can't leave the girl behind in case they trample over her. So I pick her up and carry her to my car. As I slide her in the passenger seat, I hear the footsteps of the women charging towards us. I climb into the driver's seat, shut the door after me and lock it – just as the women finally reach the car and start attacking. Fortunately for me they can't do any real damage because the car comes with ultra-tough glass and bodywork capable of withstanding any impacts. (Thank God I had this car customized by security and counter-surveillance experts.) But it won't stop them from tipping it over – I've got to get away without the risk of hurting anyone.
And I've got just the thing.
After I start up the engine, I deploy the tear-gas mechanism that is hidden behind the wheel arches outside the car to temporarily stun the women surrounding it. As they cry, sneeze and cough, I make a quick getaway.
Just when I thought I was out of the woods, I stare up and see that more women have reveal themselves, on the roofs of shops, restaurants, pubs and clubs, throwing trash at the car. Even more women are coming out of the buildings and start chasing after me, throwing what they can at me. My foot is pressed down, the accelerator against the floor. The car is doing about seventy. Objects are hitting me hard. It's as if I'm under attack, and bombs are falling from the skies, but I manage to get away from the women and the rioting chaos of the high street.
I don't stop until I reach St Hope's. I screech to a stop at the gates of the school, with one hand on the wheel and the other on the girl's chest to stop her from being thrown against the dash. I open the driver's side door and carry the girl out.
I race across the playground with the girl still clutched in my arms and enter the school. I'm just glad that I'm the only one here. No-one else has the keys to the school, other than me, Mr. Flatley and… Mrs King.
Oh no.
I hear noises. It's coming from the assembly hall. I creep silently down the corridor to the door and I push it open a few inches. I peer through the crack. The hall is completely trashed – the decorations that Jenny and the Year Elevens spent two weeks putting up are now being taken down by female pupils and staff, including Mrs King. They're flipping chairs and tables over; reaching up and clawing at the banners, fairy lights and paper lanterns, all of them, tearing them down; ripping the heads off the plush toys; bursting balloons.
All that hard work… gone.
I close the door gently and I turn to head down to HQ – but stop when Avril, Davina and a few other female pupils appear from round the corner. I start to slowly back away just as the girls start to menacingly walk towards me with nothing but a cold glare on their faces.
Their walk soon becomes running, and I turn in the opposite direction and take off down the corridor.
I'll admit that it's not easy while carrying a ten-year-old child – especially when you're climbing up three flights of stairs – but I need to find out what the hell is going on. Most of all, I need to lose my pursuers who are hot on my heels.
As I dash down the corridor, I hear someone call my name.
"Frank!"
I turn and relief sweeps my face when I see Mr. Flatley poke his head from a room. "Over here!" he says, motioning me over.
I rush into the classroom and soon as the door is closed, chairs and tables pile up and barricade the door. Outside I hear the footsteps of my pursuers dashing past the classroom and continuing down the hall. I see that as well as Mr. Flatley, several male staff and pupils – including Donovan and Scoop – are also in the room.
"Oh, Frank, thank God you're all right," says Mr. Flatley.
"Mr. F, do you know what's going on? Why are all the women going berserk and attacking everything?" I ask.
"I have no idea. All I know is that when I came into the school, I heard a commotion coming from the library and when I arrived, the female staff and pupils were vandalizing the place. I called for them to stop and as soon as they saw me, they started coming after me. I came in here and have been hiding since, looking out for any male staff or schoolboy who is being chased by crazed women…"
"And he's got one of them, Mr. Flatley!" Donovan declares, pointing at the girl in my arms. Everyone backs away from me, looking nervous and scared.
"No, no, it's OK! She's unconscious," I tell them – but they're not listening.
"Throw her out, Frank! She's gonna attack us!" Mr. Flatley cries.
"She'll wake up and call out all the girls in school and give away our hiding place!" Scoop exclaims. The others join in, saying that I should throw her out. I try to protest but it falls on deaf ears.
"I'm sorry, Frank, but either you send her out or you'll have to leave," Mr. Flatley tells me.
I can't throw her out because I need to find out what's happening. I sigh in defeat and nod. "That's fine by me," I say.
Scoop, Donovan and some of the pupils remove the tables and chairs, and I leave the classroom. I look up and down the corridor to make sure that no female pupils or teachers are coming out of the other classrooms or round the corners. Then I take off.
I head down the stairs and through the corridor until I reach the caretaker store cupboard. I gain access and enter the cupboard. Then I pull the lever and the lift takes me down to HQ. When the doors part open, I take the girl to the medical room. I place her on the bed and I strap her down. I know it's cruel but I can't risk having her attacking me again or anyone who comes into HQ.
I leave the girl to rest and get my phone out to call MI9. There must be someone who's there that can answer, but the phone rings for ages before I hang up. Of course no-one in MI9 will answer – the male agents are either out there with the police trying to restore law and order. I have a little think of who to call next – and there's one person who comes to mind.
Zeke.
I phone him, hoping he would pick up – but there's no such luck. After I hang up, I stare at the phone, thinking of whom else to call. But there's no-one else. Another person does come to mind, but I know there's a chance that she won't pick up.
Jenny.
I know she'll be under the effects of what is happening but I'm already ringing her. After a few rings it goes to voicemail. I hang up and try her communicator. There's still no answer, so I call Rose and Carrie on their pencil communicators. Again, no-one is answering. I wonder where they could be. Probably out there causing riots and destroying property. All in all, I hope they're OK.
Just then I get a call from my phone. "Hello?" I answer.
"Frank – it's Oscar," he says.
"Oscar! Are you OK?"
"I'm fine. What the hell is going on? I was on my way to school when a group of women started chasing after me and throwing stuff at me!"
"I have no idea. All I know is that whatever is happening, it's only the women that have been affected, causing riots and attacking men. Where are you?"
"I'm making my way to the school."
"Oscar, you can't come here. The school is being torn apart from the inside out. Go home and lock the doors."
"I can't – I'm here already. I'll meet you in HQ."
"Oscar…!" I start, but he had already hung up the phone. He'll get massacred up there and I can't go up there to help him without being massacred myself. And I've got an unconscious child strapped to a bed who can wake up any second, and start tearing up HQ. I just hope Oscar can get here without being spotted.
But before I can worry anymore, the lift doors open. I turn and see that Oscar has made it in one piece. But I'm more surprised to see that he's looking… different. He's dressed in the girl's school uniform of St Hope's – red jumper, white blouse, grey miniskirt and coloured tie. And to top it off, he's wearing a blonde pigtail wig.
"Now I know what you're thinking, Frank," he says. "But this was the only way I can come to the school without arousing suspicion from any women. After I got away from that mob, I used my Spy Watch to disguise myself."
"I'm just glad that you're here and you're OK," I say.
"So what is happening to all the women? Why are they acting all crazy? Why are they trying to attack us?"
"I don't know. But I do have someone who can tell us. Come with me."
I lead Oscar to the medical room where the girl is still unconscious and strapped to the bed.
"This looks a bit extreme," he says.
"Health and safety – I can't have her running about HQ and destroying the place. Not to mention attacking us," I say. "Do you have your Spy-Pod?"
Oscar takes it out of his bag and hands it to me. I open the device and use the screen to scan over the girl's body.
"Everything looks normal," I say. "I can't detect any substances or any abnormality."
"So what's making them go crazy?" Oscar asks.
I'm about to answer when a ringing sound cuts me off. Oscar and I take out our phones – but the ringing is not coming from them. Where is it coming from? Oscar and I look to the girl. I reach into the girl's pocket and take out a phone. A withheld number is flashing on the screen. I answer the phone.
"Hello?"
On the other end of the line, I hear static. It's emitting a high-frequency sound that's making my head hurt.
"What's happening?" Oscar asks.
"Nothing. All I'm getting is static," I say. What is going on?
Suddenly, there's a bloodcurdling shriek. Oscar and I turn to see that the girl is wide awake, screaming and struggling to break out of her restraints.
"All men are inferior! They are scum! They are lying, cheating, no-good arseholes! Ruination to all men! RUINATION TO ALL MEN!" the girl rages. She's thrashing around violently to get free of her restraints.
"We need to do something! She's gonna break free any second!" Oscar exclaims.
I search through the cupboards to see what I can find to calm the girl down. Then I spot it – the Knockout Aerosol can. I take it out and bring out two cloths. "Cover your nose with this, Oscar," I tell him, handing the cloth to him. He does what I say and covers his mouth and nose with the fabric. I do the same, and I approach the girl. I spray the can of knockout gas on the girl. As soon as she breathes it, she stops struggling, coughs weakly a few times and then slumps back on the bed unconscious.
After she's knocked out, Oscar and I leave the medical room. I lock the door and we move away from the room.
"OK… what the hell just happened?" Oscar asks after he removes the cloth. "What's with the 'ruination to all men' mantra?"
"It had something to do with the phone call we got," I reply. "The girl and all other women are hearing something that we can't."
"So someone is controlling them?"
"Hm. If only we knew what with." I sit at the computer where the screen lights up, showing the blueprints that I was looking through yesterday. I turn to the screen and I see something that catches my eye. There's a small note written in the corner of the blueprint. I enlarge the note and read it.
My eyes widen. "I don't believe it," I gasp.
"Frank? What's wrong?" Oscar asks.
"I've just found out more information about the Brainwave Scanner. Listen to this: 'Scanner still needs to be adjusted. After a recent testing with test subject to extract information, we have just discovered that the device can also plant information into the mind of subject'. So not only can the Scanner be used to read minds, it can be used to control minds."
"So the person who broke into Nickerson stole the Scanner because of its brainwashing function and is now using it to control the women via mobile phones."
"Exactly. If only we can find the person who stole it."
"What about the piece of cloth Rose had yesterday? You were about to analyse it but Mrs King called."
"I could – but the only problem is I never took that cloth from Rose. She still has it and I have no idea where she is. The same goes for Carrie and Jenny. I've tried calling their phones and communicators but they're not picking up. I even tried tracking them, but… no such luck."
There's a small pause before Oscar says, "What about the person who stole the Scanner? We know that they're using a mobile phone to communicate with the women. We can use a call tracking software to get a geographical location of the caller."
"Oscar, that's genius! Why didn't I think of that before?" I get out the USB plug and connect the phone to the computer. I download all the calls from the last twelve hours to the computer. A map of London appears on the screen and I get to work.
It's taking me a while to locate the caller as the number is withheld, but after nearly thirty minutes of typing and hacking… a big red dot appears on the screen.
"I found them!" I say. I type some more to zoom in on the location. "The calls are coming from the Central Transmitting Station in Upper Norwood, Croydon. Our only problem is how to get there. We can't leave without being noticed by the women and getting butchered."
"Actually, Frank, might be a way to get there without arousing suspicion," says Oscar.
"How?"
Oscar raises his eyebrows, nodding down at this outfit. I soon realize what he's getting at.
"You can't be serious?" I say.
"It's the only way, Frank," Oscar replies. "The women won't look twice if you dress up in drag."
"I think you'll find that they will. In case you haven't noticed, Oscar, I've got a five o'clock shadow."
"So? We'll just say that it's a result of a hormonal imbalance. Now hush up and be still."
I'm about to protest but Oscar has pointed his Spy Watch at me and before I know it I'm in my disguise. I look down and see that I'm wearing a pink blouse with a sizeable false breast under it, a matching pink jacket, a black leather miniskirt, thigh high stockings and heeled shoes. I go to the lab and grab a mirror. I stare at my reflection in shock. I'm wearing a short black wig, pink earrings and red lipstick. I look like Freddie Mercury from the music video of 'I Want to Break Free'.
When I return to Oscar I can see him biting the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing out loud.
"Looking good, Frank," he titters.
"Yes, yes, laugh it up, Oscar," I say. "We've got a mission, remember? Now let's head over to the transmitting tower and get this over with."
"What about the girl?"
I head to the medical room and check on her. She's still sound asleep.
"She'll be all right for an hour or so. I'll put HQ in lockdown so she doesn't escape and let the others know," I say. "You ready?"
Oscar nods, and together we leave HQ. When we get to the top and leave the storage cupboard, we check to see if there's anyone around. When we see that the coast is clear, we make a run for it down the corridor – I say run, I mean stagger. I can barely walk freely these high-heeled shoes let alone run.
When we leave the school we scurry across the playground to the car. After we get in, I start up the engine, pull the car away from the gate and we head for Croydon.
xxoOoxx
After nearly a daunting hour and fifteen minutes of driving through the chaotic streets of London and avoiding the wild and aggressive women, we finally arrive at Central Transmitting Station. The facility is located in an open space – a small compact station with a high self-supporting lattice tower next to it.
"Well, here we are," I say. "All set?"
"Yeah," Oscar replies. "But I've been thinking – shouldn't we call for back-up?"
"I've tried, but no-one is answering. They're either trying to restore law and order or they're locked up at home. So we're on our own. Are you OK with that?"
There's a brief moment of silence before Oscar nods. "Yeah. Let's go save the women of London."
We jump out of the car and make our way to the facility. I was expecting some sort of security patrolling the grounds and stopping people like Oscar and myself from entering the building but upon entering, we're greeted to a dark and empty reception. This person thinks that because the women are running riot and the men are defending themselves, they think they're invincible and no-one can stop them.
We'll see about that.
Oscar and I creep up a path that provides three doors to left of us. I try out the first door, but find that it's locked. The same goes for the second door – but the third door is slightly open. I raise a finger to my lips at Oscar, and we tip-toe over to the door, ready to burst in and take the mystery caller out.
"On the count of three," I whisper to Oscar. "One, two, three."
We kick open the door off its hinges and spring into the room, getting into a fighting stance. "This is MI9!" Oscar shouts – but we're taken aback when we find the room empty.
"Huh?" Oscar and I say, confused. "What's going on?" Oscar adds.
Why do I get the feeling that this isn't as easy as I thought it would be?
My question is answered when from my peripheral vision I sense a figure behind us – and they're heading for us!
"Oscar, behind you!" I tell him. We turn around, but it's too late – our mysterious figure has caught us.
There are three of them – all women, wearing ski masks – and they seize me and Oscar by our arms and half-drag us out of the office, down the hall and back outside. Their grips are like iron, no chance at all of getting away.
They take us to the tower where sitting on a chair at the base of the structure is the person responsible controlling the minds of them and the female population of London. They're wearing the Brainwave Scanner – and it's hooked up to the antenna located on the tower. So that's their plan: by hooking up the Scanner to the antenna, it enables the user to amplify and broadcasts its mind control power all across London, which allows them to take control of all the women in the city via mobile phones.
Oscar and I get thrown to the ground. We get up and dust ourselves off. We stare at the person wearing the helmet-sized scanner. The black visor is flipped up, and my jaw drops in when I see who it is.
Oscar is more shocked than I am as he lets out a gasp. "Ms. Holland?"
Yes, the very same Ms. Holland – or as Jenny calls her, the Man Hater – who teaches Science at St Hope's, who is unilaterally hostile towards all men due to a rather messy and bitter divorce after her husband of thirty-three years left her for a younger woman. She looks startled upon seeing me and Oscar – and the fact that we're in clothes worn by the opposite sex.
"Close your mouths, you cretins. You look like guppy fish at feeding time," she says.
Oscar and I clamp our mouths shut.
"Well, well, well," Ms. Holland starts. "If it isn't my least favourite male student and the caretaker. What a pleasant surprise – and a surprise it is indeed seeing you dressed like that. You look like a Queen tribute act ready to perform 'I Want to Break Free'. I thought you would be at home with all the doors and windows locked while my mind-controlled sisters attempt to eliminate you."
"So you're the person responsible controlling the women," I say. "Why would you do such a thing?"
"You've heard about fury in a woman scorned, haven't you? Well, that's nothing compared to the fury of a woman who has been cheated by the husband of thirty-three years for a promiscuous and unintelligent orange-skinned trollop – and then not only leaves you for her but also a nasty rash down below. Did you know that he left me on Valentine's Day? The day of romance and the celebration of love? I cooked dinner that day and had roses petals laid out for him for when he arrived home. I thought we would re-enact our honeymoon – ignite the flame that had been diminished months before after he became distant and ignored me by working 'late nights'. When he came home, he told me outright that he was leaving me. He told me that he had been having an affair with his secretary for nearly fifteen months and he had fallen in love with her. Then he went upstairs, packed a bag and left. I had never felt so upset and so humiliated in my whole life. My Valentine's night was ruined by not only him but by her, for stealing him away from me. Now they're living their new lives with their two-year-old son while I'm stuck in a one-bedroom flat after they took everything I worked so damn hard for!"
I can see Ms. Holland is reliving the past. She's allowing the past to destroy her.
"But it's not just that," she continues. "It's not just about the affair. You men think that you're all so inherently superior in every domain and that we women ought to stay in the kitchen, bore your children and grovel at the feet of you bastards. Well not anymore! Today is not just the day I get vengeance against my ex-husband: I want all men to pay for what was done to us. With the help of the Brainwave Scanner, I will brainwash the women of London into eliminating you inferior beings. And there's nothing you can do about it."
"Well, that's where you're wrong, Ms. Holland," says Oscar. "Frank and I intend to stop you and your crazy scheme."
As he starts to charge towards the Science teacher, I can see she has a small smirk on her face. "I don't think so," she murmurs. She has something planned!
"Oscar, wait!" I call, but it's too late. The three mysterious assailants appear from nowhere and dropkick Oscar. He gets knocked off his feet and is forced backwards, flipping over in the process.
"Oscar!" I exclaim, rushing to his side. I help him onto his feet. "Oscar, are you OK?"
"My head is banging…" he groans, rubbing his head – but stops when he looks up. "Oh no."
"Oscar? What's wrong?" I say. He nods to what he's staring at. "Oh no."
I'm stricken by what I see – three familiar faces standing in front of Ms. Holland, their faces now uncovered and looking aloof and emotionless.
It's Jenny, Rose and Carrie.
"You like?" says Ms. Holland. "They're my three personal bodyguards – my three favourite people from St Hope's. I chose Rose because she's the only person who shows interest in my lessons and enjoys them – unlike everybody else – and I'm in favour of her academic skill. With Carrie and her sickening cheerful, happy-go-lucky personality, she reminds me of what life was like before I discovered that all men were scum. And as for Miss Brownstone – I'm pretty much saving her the pain and heartache that you will cause for her, Mr. London. It won't be long before you trade her in for a younger model."
"That's not true! I love Jenny!" I yell. "I don't intend on leaving her for any other woman. Just because your marriage ended bitterly doesn't mean that ours will. I plan on being with Jenny for all time. Now let her, and everyone else go!"
Ms. Holland stares at me, shocked of how I'm going to spend the rest of my life with the woman I love. She lets out a sigh and says, "You know… I was going to spare you and Mr. Cole – let you become my pets. But now…" Her face is suddenly stone, "I plan on having the both of you annihilated – by the women in your lives!" Ms. Holland flips down the visor. "Miss Brownstone, Miss Gupta and Miss Stewart – destroy those weak-minded, good-for-nothing, scum-of-the-earth men."
With a nod, Jenny, Rose and Carrie instantly swing into action and start to charge towards us. Oscar and I break away and jump out of the way, with me going left and Oscar going right. The girls skid to a halt. They look over to me, then Oscar. They turn to each other and nod. They girl split up into two teams, with Rose and Carrie going for Oscar, and Jenny charging towards me.
Jenny lashes out at me. I can barely block her tremendous punches and kicks as she's so fast.
"Jen, listen to me! This isn't you – Ms. Holland is controlling you!" I tell her.
"Never! I'm a master of self-control!" she says. She tries to take a swing at me but at the last moment, I side-step the attack and counter-attack by pulling Jenny to the shoulder and strike through, knocking her to the ground.
"Please, don't do this. It's me, Frank – your fiancé. We're in love – we're getting married in less than three months."
Jenny is back on her feet and it seems she's not listening to me as she lunges at me with a punch. At the last moment, I raise my hand, palm out, and block the punch. She takes a swing at me with her other hand, but I block that attack.
"I don't want to hurt you, Jen," I plead.
Her mouth creases into a devious smirk. "Good. That makes it easy for me to hurt you!" she says, and then she delivers a massive high kick, knocking me off my feet, sending me backwards. I land painfully on my back.
"Ow…" I groan. I stagger back on my feet, rubbing my chin where I was kicked. I look up and see Jenny charging with a side kick. I manage to duck under the kick, hook the Jenny's standing foot with my instep and pull in a straight motion, causing her to lose her balance and fall.
Jenny gets back on her feet via backflip. She shakes off her assault. Her smile is gone. Her eyes turn to stone. "You're starting to become annoying. And it's pissing me off!" she exclaims. She throws a barrage of punches and kicks, coming at me with everything that she has. I can barely dodge them, let alone block the attacks or fight back. She's just too fast and too good.
Just then, Jenny explodes with a full-powered foot sweep, followed by a roundhouse kick to my head. As my foot is swept, I spin into Jenny's roundhouse, which makes contact with my mouth. I hit the ground hard.
I'm in absolute pain. Blood trickles from a split lip. I try to sit up but Jenny pins me down with her foot on my chest. She has a wicked smile on her face. She's got me on the ropes.
"Any last words before I finish you off?" she says.
It's time to take some desperate measures to turn things round – and I think I might know just the thing.
"Yeah – this," I say, grabbing the leg that's on my chest and pulling it off, causing Jenny to fall back. She tries to get up but I go on top of her, pinning her wrists by the sides of her head and trapping her legs with my weight. "Maybe this will make you see sense," I say, and I cover her mouth with a hungry, brutal kiss. When she gasps at my forcefulness, my tongue shoots into her mouth, aggressively.
After a few seconds, I pull my head back and release her wrists. We're both breathing hard. I hope this works.
"Jenny? Are you there?" I say. For a moment, she's too stunned to say or do anything. "Jen?"
"You… you kissed me," she says breathlessly.
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." I sigh in relief – I got my girl back.
Suddenly a fist flies out and hits me square in the face. I fall flat on my back. I don't think the 'I'll-kiss-some-sense-back-into-her' plan worked. I'm in so much pain – especially in my left eye. It hurts like hell and is starting to swell shut.
Jenny is standing over me, very peeved about what I did. "You just signed your death warrant, you dick," she says. "Now rather than making your death quick and painless, I'm gonna make it slow and painful."
There's nothing I can do. My eyes widen with terror as her foot lifts up and hovers over my face, ready to finish me off.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a net is thrown at Jenny and she falls back.
"Huh?" I say, confused. I get up and see her flailing around, desperately trying to free herself. I turn to see that Rose and Carrie are also entangled in nets. But who is doing this?
A whistle catches my attention and I whirl around to see Zeke! He's there with Oscar – who looks bruised and bloody – and he's carrying a large crossbow. They rush over to me.
"I give you the Net Launcher Crossbow," says Zeke. "Don't leave home without it."
"Zeke, you're here," I say. "How did you find us?"
"After I saw your missed call, I tracked you from your phone and made my way here as quickly as I could. And let me tell you something it wasn't easy, especially when you've got women and young girls chasing after you, throwing junk at you, wanting to kill you. Anyway, Oscar has explained the situation to me – so it solves the mystery on why my mother, along with four million, eighty-six thousand, nine hundred and fifty other women are going ape-shit, and why you two are dressed in drag."
I nod. "We need to get the Brainwave Scanner off Ms. Holland before London and the male population are done for!" I say. "Let's go!"
Oscar, Zeke and I take off running, heading towards the teacher. She's still oblivious to what is happening when we reach her.
"OK – how are we doing this?" Oscar asks.
"Well we can't exactly take the direct approach and yank the helmet off her head," says Zeke. "The device is connected to a live tower and unless you want one hundred thousand volts coursing through your veins and frying your insides, we can't touch it."
"But how come it's not frying Ms. Holland?"
"The lining of the helmet must have a double-thick pad of rubber – so it acts as an insulator," I reply. "So the question is how can we get the helmet off without touching the helmet?"
"You bastards!" I hear Jenny shout. I look up and see that she's freed herself from the net – as have Rose and Carrie. "You three will pay for that cheap shot!"
The girls start running towards us. Zeke uses the Net Launcher Crossbow on them, but they jump out of the way of the net and continue coming towards us.
"There's just no end to them," says Oscar. "There's no way we can beat them off. What are we going to do?"
I get to thinking. There has to be a way to fend off Jenny, Rose and Carrie and get the Brainwave Scanner off Ms. Holland. I look to the teacher and then to the girls. It is then that I get an idea.
"I've got a plan," I tell Oscar and Zeke. They look confused when I step in front of Ms. Holland, but they follow suit. "Just follow my lead."
Jenny, Rose and Carrie have stopped – they're a short distance away from us.
"Um, Frank? I think now would be a good time to tell us the plan," says Zeke.
"Just give it a minute and wait for my signal," I tell him.
"Well, well. This is the end for you," Jenny says smugly. "It's time to take out the trash!"
The girls leap towards us with a flying kick. The timing has to be right.
"Uh, Frank? The plan – in your own time," says Oscar.
"Wait a second…" I reply.
"Huh? What's going on?" Ms. Holland has flipped open the visor – just in time to see her plan fail right before her eyes.
"This is what's going on," I tell her. Then I tell Oscar and Zeke to jump aside – which we do. I land in a roll and look up, watching Ms. Holland scream in horror as Jenny, Rose and Carrie land their kicks on her, knocking her back. As a result, the Brainwave Scanner flies off her head, its cables ripped off the tower, and the helmet lands and rolls on the ground. I climb onto my feet, rush over to the device and smash it with my foot, destroying it in the process.
"Mmm…? What's going on?" Rose says, dazed.
"Huh? Where are we?" says Carrie, confused.
"Can somebody explain to me why my head feels like it's about to split open?" Jenny groans, rubbing her head.
"Yay! They're all back to normal!" Zeke cheers. He and Oscar rush over to Rose and Carrie, checking if they're all right.
I happily run over to Jenny and pull her into a hug. "Oh, Jen. I'm so glad that you're OK."
"Um… thanks," she replies, baffled. "But would you mind telling me what is going on? Why are you dressed like you're about to enter a Freddie Mercury lookalike contest? How did you get that busted lip and black eye?"
"And why is Ms. Holland lying unconscious on the ground?" says Rose, looking down at the Science teacher, her arms and legs spread wide and her glasses snapped in two.
"It's a long story," Oscar tells the girls. "But know this now – Ms. Holland won't be teaching for a very, very long time."
It takes about an hour for an MI9 van to come and pick up Ms. Holland. I drive the team back to St Hope's with Oscar explaining to the girls what had happened to them. As we drive through the city, we see the resulting chaos generated – millions of pounds worth of property damaged by vandalism and vehicles destroyed by arson. It'll take while to get London back on its feet.
When we return to St Hope's Oscar goes to HQ to collect the girl and return her to her family while I head to the classroom where Mr. Flatley and all the male staff and pupils are hiding and inform them that the crisis is over. They're relieved, but at the same time they're horrified after seeing the damaged – especially Jenny who stares in sheer horror at the site of the assembly hall.
School was cancelled for the next few days. The staff and pupils chip in to get everything back in order. Over the course of the week, my injuries have healed up and faded away – the same goes for Oscar.
We have the Valentine dance the following Friday, with everyone bringing in their own decorations – mostly Christmas lights and tinsel – and their own food and drink. After everything has been set up, Jenny is in awe with the transformation.
The dance is in full swing. Scoop is on stage DJing, with half of the Year Elevens jiggling about on the dance floor while the other half standing around the edges, trying to decide when it will be cool to join in. Even Mrs King is having a great time, relaxing and laughing with Richie.
I'm standing with Oscar and Zeke, waiting for the girls to arrive. (We invited Zeke as a thank-you for saving London.) I watch as people dance around, and having the time of their lives, wearing costumes from different eras. I'm dressed as a 1950s greaser delinquent: a fitted white T-shirt, black leather jacket, blue jeans and black Converse shoes, and hair in a perfect pompadour. Jenny also made me ditch the glasses and shave off my stubble because she says and I quote, "I don't recall greasers rocking the four-eyed, five o'clock shadow look."
Oscar is dressed as a gangster from the 1920s: a black pinstriped suit, with a black shirt underneath. A red tie and matching handkerchief and white trilby hat with a black satin hat band complete the look. Zeke has gone for the 1960s Austin Powers look: a dark blue crushed velvet suit, a white dickey with cravat and black Beatle boots. He's also wearing a brown wig with swept bangs and bowl cut and his trademark black-framed glasses.
"It's great seeing everyone having fun," says Zeke. "After what happened last week, it's nice to see everyone letting their hair down."
"Yeah. You should have seen Mr. Flatley," says Oscar. "He was literally jumping for joy when I told him that Ms. Holland wasn't coming back to St Hope's. Him and the rest of the male population of the school."
"Still, you can't help but feel sorry for her. Over thirty years of marriage and he leaves you for a younger woman? In a way I kinda see where she's coming from. I mean if I found out my girl cheated on me and left me for another guy, I'd probably go bat-shit crazy, too – but less of the 'I'll-control-the men-into-taking-out-the-female-population' kind of way and more of the 'Post-embarrassing-pictures-of-the-people-in-question-on-the-Internet' kind of way. But I'm not that kind of person who will do anything as horrible as that because I'm a nice guy."
"It still didn't give Ms. Holland the right to do something as insane as this. Not all men are bad. There are some good guys – but she's too blind with anger to see it. Maybe someday if she's ever gets released from prison, Ms. Holland will meet someone who'll treat her right, be with her and never leave her. And if that happens, maybe her hatred for men will be long forgotten."
Zeke and I murmur in agreement.
"Well there's a lesson to be learnt after everything that has happened," I say. "Treat a woman like a princess and she'll make you the happiest man alive…"
"Treat her like crap and she'll make your life a living hell!" a voice cuts in.
I spin round and my eyes widen in surprise when I see Jenny. She looks amazing. She's dressed as a wholesome 1950s girl – the Sandy Olsen to my Danny Zuko. Her dress has a red bodice, with short white sleeves and a full knee-length white skirt is flocked with a design of flying cupids, hearts and bows. Her accessories include gold stun earrings, short white sheer gloves with red bows and red high-heeled open-toed mules with her toenails on displayed, painted ruby red – the same colour as her fingernails. Her ink-black hair is styled in a ponytail pulled up and away from her face and tied by a red ribbon.
Her full, scarlet-coloured lips curve into a smile. "Well, what do you think?" she asks, giving a twirl.
"Wow, Jen. You look… just wow," I say.
She giggles in response. "Why, thank you," she says. "And can I say you're looking a bit wow yourself?"
I grin, glowing with pride.
"How about us?" I hear Carrie demand. "Think we make a good impression?"
I look to her and Rose – and they look a knockout. Carrie looks elegant wearing a sleeveless dress in flapper-style, with a drop waist bodice and embroidered peacock feather design in shades of teal, purple, and gold. She's also wearing long black gloves, long blue and black beaded necklaces, sheer black tights and black Mary Jane shoes. Her hair is styled in a fashionable curly bob, neatly tucked under by her black feathered headband. And Rose looks fantastic, dressed as a 1960s mod girl: a purple sequined dress mini dress with bell sleeves, with a matching glitter headband and long boots. Her hair is long and sleek, swinging like a gleaming black curtain, and like me she's left the glasses at home.
"You two look stunning," I tell the girls, with Oscar and Zeke agreeing.
"Yeah, Carrie – you look incredible," Oscar adds.
"Thanks! And you look handsome," Carrie replies, and giggles when he blushes.
"I have to say, Rose, that you are looking groovy, baby!" says Zeke, winking at her.
"Th-thanks," she replies, going red. "You're looking… totally rad, man."
Jenny gives me a nudge, her eyes giddy with excitement at the romantic sight blooming in front of us.
Just then 'Crazy in Love' by Beyoncé starts to play.
"Oh, that glorious music – just makes a girl want to dance!" says Carrie, starting to move with the beat. "Come on, Oscar. Let's hit the dance floor and do the Charleston to this song!" She takes Oscar's hand and leads him to the floor.
"How about it, Rose?" says Zeke, extending his hand. "Ready to get on down and boogie?"
Her cheeks are now pink, but Rose nods and she takes Zeke's hand and they fade into the crowd.
It's just me and Jenny now. "They all make cute couples, don't they?" Jenny asks, watching the four having a dance and then a laugh.
"Yeah – they do," I say. "Cupid must be proud of himself."
"He should be. I bet he was when he brought us together." She snuggles up to me, and I smile in response.
"I meant what I said, Jen. I'm going to give you the attention you deserve, give you all of my love, call you beautiful, and treat you like a princess."
"Aw, Frank!" She leans in and kisses me on my cheek. "But why settle for a princess when you can have a queen? That way, I get to treat you like a king."
"Is that so? Well in that case, I would like to treat you, my queen, to a little late Valentine's Day present." I go into the pocket of my jacket and take out a box. "Happy late Valentine's Day," I say, holding it out for her.
Jenny smiles and takes the gift. She opens the box and gasps in delight. Inside is a gold locket necklace. The pendant is shaped as a heart with the words 'Key to my Heart' engraved on it, and inside the locket is a tiny key. "Oh Frank! I love it."
"Let me put it on." I take out the necklace as Jenny spins around. I put the necklace on her – and I just can't help myself as I lean down and start to nuzzle and kiss the nape of her neck while I wrap my arms around her waist.
"Frank…" Jenny sighs, and then shivers. "What are you doing?"
"You know exactly what I'm doing," I sensually whisper in her ear, and then lick and nibble on the earlobe while pressing my groin against her bottom. Jenny starts to squirm. "Don't try to resist, darling – I know how much you like it."
"Yeah, but… You can't, not here…" She tries to tell me but a moan escapes her lush lips. She leans into me and her body begins rocking, pelvis thrusting slightly. "We have to stop…"
"Why?" I ask, nipping at her shoulder.
"Someone could be watching," she answers.
"So? Let them watch," I respond as I plant tender kisses on the side of her neck and then suck on it.
"Honestly, Frank. Sometimes you can be so… incorrigible…"
"Mmm. But you love it, though."
"Yes, I do. I really do." Jenny turns to face me and caresses my face. "And I love you."
"I love you, too, beautiful," I say, stroking her back. I kiss her and she kisses me back, moaning with pleasure in response. When we finally break the loving kiss, Sade's 'Your Love Is King' begins to play.
"The perfect song," Jenny says. She holds out her hand. "So how about it, Your Majesty? Shall we dance?"
I smile and grab her hand. "Yes, my queen, let's," I reply, and we head for the dance floor, where we join Oscar and Carrie and Rose and Zeke who started slow-dancing with each other. I pull Jenny close while she holds me tight, and we dance cheek to cheek, while swaying to the music.