Sorry this is so late, I had to deal with life. Back at college and trying to adjust. But here it is!
Was I crazy to go and rush to the Hangar with Belmont students in tow?
Please. One of them was my sister. Besides, I needed counsel I couldn't get from the cops.
The Hangar was the abandoned school we used as our hideout. It was a combo of old building and new hideaway, not like the building Fairview had rented from the Iglesia. It stood in a huge parking lot, large enough to have held a regular private plane, hence the name. It was a dull place on the exterior, except for the graffiti scrawled over time. The largest and most visible of these markings included RC CAN'T COME HERE and HONK IF YOU ARE TIRED OF IDIOTS. We'd kept the graffiti up – partly because we didn't have the materials to scrape it off, partly because we kind of liked it.
"Wow," Billy observed. "Classy joint."
"Wait till you come inside," Amos retorted. He wasn't lying, it was better on the inside – but only slightly.
We headed up to the doorway, an airlock we'd come up with over the summer. Tails had frequently gone through several modifications to the voice module before finally settling on a voice that sounded like JK Simmons, for some inexplicable reason. (There had been no shortage of J. Jonah Jameson jokes on Amos' part when the fox made his decision.)
"Password?" I heard Simmons' voice echo out when I tapped the touch screen that identified our prints. (Two-factor sign in. Gotta love it.)
"Wealth does not bring prosperity," I said, remembering the password Tails had whispered in my ear. I found it all too appropriate to our circumstances.
"That's correct," came the reply, and the airlock hissed as it was de-pressurized and the door slid open.
"Cool," Billy said. "Though may I ask why it sounds like that Daily Bugle guy?"
I only shook my head in response. "Someone's into Spider-Man a little too much."
As we went inside, the pastel bunnies and flowers were all too welcome. After the conflagration at St. Francis, we needed something cheery to get over it. But the empty halls were a stark contrast to the packed passageways over at Fairview. It seemed to scream for someone to walk the halls, for school business, anything but this torment of staying open for something other than what it was built for.
"Nice pad you got here," Courtney whispered to me.
We continued through the halls to the Cyberoom. The erstwhile computer lab was converted from its past state, with outdated computers gathering dust on the desks. Now, there was only a single row in front where that was still the case. The rest of the computers had been cannibalized to make the Holo, Tails' holoscreen supercomputer, which took center stage in the Cyberoom – literally and figuratively.
Tails pressed the power button and the screen popped up – a 3-D holo show that reminded me of the chess game aboard the Millennium Falcon in Star Wars: The Force Awakens. (So I'm a nerd. So what?) Unlike that, though, it showed us various documents in flat form – round the Holo, in fact, so that we could all see them. It also could do live video feeds – often immersive VR, so we actually saw and heard and felt what was going on.
The Holo was a supercomputer, gaming device, and virtual reality beam in one freaking amazing piece of tech. We loved it.
Tails started typing into the Kitswipe. Another thing I should probably clear up – Tails had coded his own search engine for the Holo, as he wasn't satisfied with the ones out there. (Gee, hard to imagine.) His Kitswipe was much more advanced, with more features than a regular Google or Yahoo! search. He could access recent updates, birthdays, pretty much any criterion he could put down. He also put in child filters that would make Covenant Eyes weep. Gotta love the kid's thoughtfulness.
I could catch what he was putting down in the box – "richard + camford". I knew at once he was looking for info pertaining to Rich. At the very least, something else he'd gotten away with in the past, although that would likely be moot at this point.
"Wow, that fox really knows how to use his tech," Courtney said.
"That's my little pal right there," Sonic said with a proud smile in Tails' direction.
"What happened?" Amy Rose asked as she walked in. "Did the job go well?"
I knew perfectly well which "job" Amy was referring to. I reckoned Sonic had at least let Amy know where he was going. That made sense. It wouldn't do for her to get mad at him because he missed something – and her temper is notoriously fierce.
She certainly was a pretty creature, though. Her pink quills were arranged in a neat bob. Her red blouse, black jeans, white gloves and pink pumps were simple but stylish. Her bangle bracelets and hammer necklace were all the accessories she needed. She could easily have taken Tinseltown by storm if she wanted to. Her hazel eyes, though, were a different story – kind and gentle, but with that fierce luster nonetheless.
"I wish," Sonic said in response, his expression glum. "Someone tried to torch the shelter. And blow up the kitchen."
"What?" I felt a sudden rush of Amy's disbelief and shock. Amy's empathy powers were a handy thing to have when it came to trauma, but they did make her stronger emotions bleed off into anyone nearby. And I thought Courtney was dramatic. "While there were people still in that building?"
No one answered that. I wasn't sure how to phrase the story of the St. Francis incident in a way that didn't sound too awful.
It just made the feeling worse. "What the Void – why would –" Amy gasped, still pretty shocked.
"Camford," Billy responded at last. He didn't seem too fazed by Amy's presence. Then again, he'd been hanging around Sonic and Tails for a few hours.
Amy blanched at the mention of his name. "Richard Camford? Not good news."
"How so?" I asked sardonically.
I didn't really need to know. Or want to. I remembered the callous way the Camfords had tried to destroy St. Francis. I was willing to bet Rich had done this every time he'd set up a place. It must've been a major problem if even the avatars were upset over it. But then why hadn't anybody done anything?
Dumb question, DJ. He could just buy them out and brush it off. Just ask Oscar Kawatogama. But I wasn't impressed – it only made me even madder that he could just get away with this.
"Oh, man." Tails' voice snapped me out of it.
"What's wrong?" Knuckles the Echidna asked as he came into the room.
"That's what I was about to ask," Amos commented. I wanted to tell him to keep his mouth shut, as Knuckles was not an avatar you wanted to provoke. But that was about as pointless as telling him to shut up in class. The guy would run his mouth, I knew it.
Knuckles was much more imposing than the rest of the avatars – six foot three and burly, with all the features of his game counterpart – aside from the eyes, which were a dull gray as opposed to his normal violet. Not only that, but he dressed the part of a regular street thug – black hoodie, blue jeans – with the exception being his white gloves and his red-and-yellow boots. He sent a rush of heat through the room – all too appropriate for him, since his powers involved fire.
"It's nothing good," Tails said. "Apparently he's been convicted of heedless destruction without a proper permit –"
"So, like what he just tried – and failed – at doing?" Imira asked. I could easily imagine steam rolling out from under her hijab.
"What – a –" I spluttered, only cutting off when I couldn't find a word strong enough to describe Rich.
Amy then noticed Olga's scratch and started fussing over it. That was actually one of the reasons I'd decided to take Olga to the Hangar – Amy might be there, and would be able to mend the scratch.
"Not only that, but his funds go pretty much everywhere," Tails commented. "He's sent payments to Memphis Street Academy –"
"Wasn't that Callie's escuela?" Vinny Lee inquired. It was probably the first time she'd spoken while we were in the Hangar. I remembered the strain in her voice… I wasn't sure what had happened, but I was pretty sure I needed to talk to my friend.
"Was," Courtney said defiantly. "Mom's probably pulling paperwork together right now to transfer her to a better middle school."
I wasn't sure this was true. Again, my overdramatic sister. But it would not have surprised me if Mom was, in fact, working on it. She was not fond of schools who didn't do anything about their kids – quite the opposite. This was the woman who pulled me out when she discovered my school was essentially allowing me to get picked on. Or did she know Rich had funded MSA – and allowed it to keep her from learning? I could never tell with my mom.
I had a crawling feeling right then, just like in the shelter. I stood there, listening, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"¿Es esta todo?" Vinny Lee asked. "Or do I want to know?"
"I'm afraid you don't," Tails said. His voice quaked with fury now. "He's been pulling strings in a pro-choice group around here."
What was that? Pro-choice? Repulsive! Verse for the update: 1 John 4:12. Stay tuned!