The bus turned into the parking lot, headlights sweeping across the waiting vehicles. The door opened and disgorged the members of the cross-country team onto the concrete, then snapped shut before the bus pulled away into the night. Students who could drive walked toward their cars; those who could not headed for minivans and sedans driven by parents. Casey kicked back her heels, then looped the strap of her gym bag over her shoulder.

Ophelia started toward the sleek black car glimmering under the streetlights, then turned back. "Are you waiting on a ride?"

"Huh? What? No, I mean, I'll walk home." Casey shook her head and took a few steps.

"We can give you a ride home." Ophelia waved toward the glistening sedan as headlights rippled over its surface.

"No, no, I, uh, I always walk home, it, uh, it helps me clear my head," Casey stammered.

"It's no trouble, I'd really like-"

"No." Casey's voice was sharper than she intended; she could see Ophelia flinch even in the dark. "I mean, I'm sorry, but I always walk home."

"Okay." Ophelia false-started, then brought herself up short and gave an abbreviated nod. "I didn't mean to… See you tomorrow." She climbed into the car's back seat.

"Yeah, tomorrow." Casey offered a tight, ineffectual wave, then, as the car's tail lights turned out of the parking lot, hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and started walking. It would take a good twenty minutes, so best to get on it.


Buffy dug her phone out of her backpack. She punched in the number as she walked across the parking lot as she trotted down the steps of Zarins Hall. "Bryn? Hey, it's me, Buffy. I, uh, I found out some wiggy stuff and… I think I'd like to let Emily know, but I'm very much non grata of the persona with her, so… if I could run it by you, I'd really appreciate it. Call me back."

She had been on auto-pilot all day, taking notes like a robot and shoveling her lunch down without really tasting it. No matter how much she tried to concentrate on the subject, her brain kept grabbing the pieces of information that she had learned and trying to assemble them. She even felt a little bad about zombieing through Anthropology. Anthro had surprised her. The instructor was Dr. Jurgens, a thin man who had gone on several archeological digs in Syria. He looked as though the desert environment had first dried him out, then wind-scoured him down to the bare minimum, but he really loved the subject and could easily be coaxed into telling stories about his expeditions. Buffy was a bit disturbed by how much all the time spent researching with Giles came in handy, but it was her second-favorite class after Mythology.

The sidewalk came to a T-junction, and she stood there for a moment, people moving past her and the breeze stirring her hair as she tried to decide which way to go.

There's a metaphor for you, she thought.


"Ms. Hollis?"

Matti froze for a heartbeat before slowly turning. Principal Majewski business-walked toward her, sensible pumps clicking on the tile. "Whew. I'm sorry, I…" She blinked and tapped her fingers on her sternum "… it always surprises me just how tall you are. I know you're on your prep period, so I won't take up too much of your time, but this year is so different, I'm trying to check in with all the faculty and staff, so, sorry to be so abrupt, but, how has the start of your year been?"

"Um, it's been fine, trying to work out the kinks in our offense, but since we can't start practice until the end of October, there should be plenty of time."

Majewski nodded. "Mm-hmm. I meant more 'how are you doing, personally?'"

Matti gnawed her bottom lip. "I'm good, the arm is responding to therapy-"

"That's why I wanted to talk to you. We've had so much faculty turnover, and none of them were actually involved in… the incident. The fact that you were here and were gravely injured, well, I just want to make sure that you're getting the support you need. Don't feel the need to be brave. You can talk to me any time about anything. Anything."

"Coach Hollis?" Matti turned toward the new voice, almost gasping with relief as she did so. David Sarikh wore a maroon polo shirt with 'Sunnydale Football' silk-screened on the left breast, the nylon fabric stretched gossamer-thin over his shoulders and chest. "Sorry to interrupt, but if you have a minute, I need to speak to you."

Matti looked at Principal Majewski and raised her eyebrows.

The administrator shook her head. "Remember, if you need anything, my door is open. Anything." She pointed a finger for emphasis, then walked toward her office.

"Wow, thanks." Matti let out a long sigh. "That conversation really overused the word 'anything'."

"I don't know what that was about, but I've seen the look on your face often enough."

"Really? What look was that?" Matti cocked her head.

"Help. I'm trapped. Get me out of here."

"Okay, pretty accurate." Matti nodded. "Thanks."

"Since I'm here, I do have a question." David stood completely still with his feet a little over shoulder width apart. "Are you lifting later this evening?"

Matti blinked and made a quick decision. "Yeah, I'm going to go over some of my lesson plans first, but after that, sure."

David nodded, one quick, precise tilt of the head. "Would you mind if I lifted with you?"

Matti tugged one earlobe. "No, I... I wouldn't mind that."

"Then I will see you after practice." Another nod, then he turned on the ball of one foot and walked away with short, quick strides, a man on the move. Matti grinned and turned toward the teachers' lounge, just in time to catch a girl coming out of the cross hallway. The teacher raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, just, uh, using the bathroom."

Matti jerked a thumb down the hall. The girl ducked her head and hustled past. Matti turned and watched her until she slipped into a classroom. The Knight shook her head and turned, then stopped short. Why did the girl seem familiar? Matti searched her brain, but couldn't come with anything more than a vague feeling. The door to the lounge seemed to recede the closer she got; the same thing happened whenever she approached the library. Her chest tightened as she pushed open the door.

"Oh, hi!" The speaker was a slight young woman wearing overalls and a bandanna holding back a long flood of dark, wavy hair. Her eyes were enormous and almost the same shade as her hair. "I'm Winnie Contreras, art. Pleased to meet you." She stuck out a hand, which Matti grasped in almost self-defense. Winnie's hand was much smaller, but had a grasp like a vise.

"Um, I think we were at the same meetings together." Matti extricated her hand from the other woman's grip. There was something tacky on the coach's hand.

"Yeah, but we've never gotten to say 'hi' and I don't feel like I've really met someone until I say 'hi', so, again 'hi'." Winnie stuck her hands in the back pockets of her overalls and noticed Matti's hand. "Oh, sorry about that. I've been throwing some pots and clay's a booger to get off your hands completely but, still, it's clay, which is just dirt, right?"

"I guess." The Knight edged around the smaller woman. If she could make it to the coffee…

"Wow, I heard that you had a major scar from the dust-up back in the spring, but…" Winnie waved a hand. Matti glanced down; the end of the scar peeked from underneath the sleeve of her T-shirt. "Hey, if you ever wanna design a tat around that, I've got a friend who does quality work." The art teacher raised her right hand in an 'OK' sign.

"Thanks." Matti poured a cup of coffee, ignoring the slight tremor in her hands. She used great care in replacing the urn on the warmer. "Hey, it's great to… meet you, but-"

"I know, I know. You only get one prep, right, and you don't wanna spend it talking to the crazy art lady. Arrrgggghhh!" Winnie went pop-eyed and waved her hands. "But seriously, if you're ever in the west hall, stop by my room."

Matti began a nod. "You're… down by the boiler room?"

"Yeah, when they rebuilt all of that, they put us near the mechanical room, that's what it's called now, the mechanical room, because it's got the water heater and the electrical boxes in there, but they put us next to it because the kiln takes a lot of electricity and they didn't want to run a whole bunch of extra wiring." Winnie held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. "Want to be sure and get those pots fired the right way."

"I'm sure." Matti lifted her cup. "Well, I've got my coffee, so… It was nice to meet you."

"Sure, same, same. Don't forget, art room, west hall. You'll be surprised at some of the student work that's on display."

"I'm sure I will be." Matti slipped out the door and thought as she walked down the hall. The girl had said she was coming from the bathroom, but there was a bathroom closer to the class she had entered. Why go to the west hall? "Jeez," Matt whispered to herself, "get a grip. Like students don't find any way possible to spend more time out of class."


Two Mizuno Wave Riders appeared in Casey's field of vision. She finished tying her own shoes and sat up. Olivia stood there, hands on hips, brow furrowed with seriousity. Casey's mouth was dry; she swallowed and stood.

"Are you mad at me?" Ophelia asked.

Casey blinked. "I… Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know." Ophelia grabbed her left elbow with her right hand. "But when I asked if you wanted a ride home, you acted… kinda pissed."

"I wasn't, I just… I mean, I always walk home, it just kinda, I guess, caught me off-guard when you asked. I'm sorry if I sounded mad."

"No, it's okay." Ophelia half-shrugged, half-nodded. "I just didn't want to upset you." She grinned. "Don't want to throw number one off her game."

Casey felt herself blush furiously. "It's one race."

"Hey, OP." Becca Kelly appeared behind Ophelia and enveloped her in a loose hug. "You wanna hang at the Bronze tonight?"

Ophelia looked at Casey, who stood rooted to the spot, a dumb look on her face. The younger tilted her head, then looked over her shoulder at Becca. "Sure, but I have to let the wicked stepmother know."

"Ooooo, bitchy. Me likey." Becca patted Olivia's arms. "Eight o'clock, okay?"

"Everybody should already be out on the course." Coach Hyde walked out of her office, one hand circling above her head. "If we're not cutting into anyone's social hour."


"Principal Majewski?" The woman in the doorway had silky, shoulder-length dark hair, a well-cut charcoal gray suit, cheekbones that could draw blood and a jawline suitable for use as a straight-edge. "Mackenzie Moss, city manager."

"Yes, good to see you. Please have a seat." Janet Majewski half-rose from her office chair and gestured toward the visitors' chairs.

Mackenzie settled in and crossed one long leg over the other. "So," she said, "how's the start of the school year going?"

"If I were giving it a grade, I would say… B+. With so many new teachers and staff, there has been a real period of adjustment, but I think everyone has handled it well and we're really starting to move forward."

"Good, excellent, that's what we like to hear." Mackenzie laid a hand on the desk; her nails were a deep, shiny crimson. "Frankly, you were at the top of our list and we're very excited that you were able to accept our offer."

Janet Majewski's lips formed an 'O' as her head tilted slightly. "I'm sorry, I'm… confused. You said you were the city manager."

"Yes, yes, I am."

"The school board hired me." Principal Majewski's mouth tightened.

Mackenzie nodded. "They did, they did, but… Sunnydale at the moment is part of a great experiment in government. When Mayor Wilkins disappeared, there was no plan in place for a replacement or succession. Now, that would have been difficult enough, but on top of that, the high school, city hall, and the police station were basically destroyed and, since no one outside of the Wilkins family had ever been in charge, institutional integrity was, well, weak is painting a prettier picture than we found."

"Who is 'we'?"

"Right to the chase, I like that. It's the way I operate. Well, to put it simply, the city of Sunnydale signed a contract with Dynamic Services, a full-spectrum consulting and management services company."

Janet reminded herself to close her mouth. "You… privatized a town?"

"Oh, no, no, no." Mackenzie leaned forward, the soul of concern. "City utilities are still administered by the Department of Public Works, the police and firefighters are still municipal employees. We simply provide… support for the town council and the various departments, making sure that everything meshes and runs smoothly."

"What do you get out of this relationship?"

"Well, honestly, not very much, not at this time." Mackenzie grinned and scrunched her nose. "This is a new venture for us, but we hope, if it goes well, that Dynamic Services can create a model that other towns might want to implement. There are a lot of small towns out there finding their traditional systems are inadequate in this day and age. We think we can help them become more efficient."

"And your company will take a slice of the savings afforded by this greater efficiency." Janet Majewski felt an itch between her shoulder blades.

"Exactly. Boy, you cut right to the heart of the situation. That's one reason we liked you." Mackenzie nodded and stood up. "Well, the school day is almost over and I've taken enough of your valuable time. I just wanted to say 'hello', wish you a great start to the school year, and if you need anything, anything at all, if something unexpected or unforeseen pops up, just pick up the phone and call my office. It'll probably end up on my desk anyway, so we can cut through all the bureaucracy. See, better communication and efficiency already." She tapped the desk and gave a brisk, sharp nod. "Good to see you. Looking forward to hearing from you."


"Hey, Bryn." Buffy cradled her phone between ear and shoulder as she rummaged in her backpack. "Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Meet you in fifteen? Okay." The one-time Slayer snapped her phone shut and tucked it into a pocket. She finally located her lip balm and applied it liberally as she walked across campus to meet Bryn. The tall blonde was waiting for her in the foyer of Strong Hall. Buffy sat down on a low stainless-steel sofa with black vinyl cushions that looked much more comfortable than it was. Bryn, wearing an off-the-shoulder peasant top and faded cropped jeans, was already seated.

"First, thank you." Buffy took a deep breath and leaned back; the bar across the top of the sofa bit into her shoulder blades. "I did some digging, and Patrick didn't graduate from Sunnydale High. He would've been one year ahead of us, but he left after his sophomore year."

"Huh. Okay. So, he moved?"

"Yes, but not down the street. He did his last two years at some private school in Connecticut."

"Like Dead Poets Society?"

Buffy grimaced. "More a Manchester Prep vibe to me."

"Really."

"It's just my Spidey sense, but I'll do some more digging."

Bryn looked through the glass doors at the outside world. "So, you think this has something to do with Emily?"

"Not Emily in particular, but I keep wondering, why after his sophomore year? His whole family didn't move, just him, and if it's supposed to be a really swank school, why not go there for all four years?"

"So, what's next?"

Buffy looked at the wall across from her; the back of the sofa dug into her shoulders. "Like I said, dig. Find out more about St. Enda's... Enda's. Is it a really good school, just another way for rich kids to get good grades, or is it the kind of place where you stash someone after they've done something you don't want seen?"

Bryn considered this, then nodded. "I'll talk to her after dinner. I'll call you."


Matti wiped her face with a towel, then draped it around her shoulders and settled herself in the squat rack. The towel kept the etched pattern on the bar from abrading her traps. She took a deep breath and pushed, lifting the bar from the rack. She did eight reps, concentrating on form and fluidity. She completed the set and straightened, replacing the bar in the rack.

"Nice." David Sarikh stepped out from behind her. "Little help?" He held up the bar while Matti lowered the J-hooks. She bumped them to make sure they were solid, then he replaced the bar and turned to get his shoulders under it. He went through his reps with a smooth efficiency, and Matti had to admit she enjoyed the show. He finished and set the bar back on the hooks, then stepped out. He grabbed a towel and wiped his face and shaved head. "Thanks. Good workout."

"Same." Matti grabbed her gym bag, then hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can always ask," he said. "I might have an answer."

"Why did you ask if you could lift with me? Don't all the football coaches lift together after practice or something?"

He nodded, short, quick movements of his jaw. "Yes, but I have very little tolerance for small talk." He flexed his shoulders; the muscles swelled beneath the skin. "And I enjoy the company."

Matti placed a hand on her sternum and gave her head an exaggerated tilt. "Coach Sarikh, are you flirting with me?"

He lifted his head slightly and stared directly into her eyes. "I am not. And call me David. See you tomorrow." He picked up his bag and left. Matti watched the door swing shut behind him, then frowned.

"Well, hell."


The phone chirped. Buffy flipped it open and saw Bryn's number. "Hey, I–"

"Buffy, something's wrong."

"Wait, what?" the one-time Slayer looked around as though she might discover Bryn standing behind her.

"I was going up to Emily's room and I used the stairs, because it's only two floors, and when I came out of the door, these two guys were at Emily's door, and they didn't look right."

"Okay, okay." Buffy closed her eyes. "I'm in the West Quad. Strong Hall is to my left, so…"

"Hoyme's to your right, about two-thirty. It's the tallest building."

"On my way. Five minutes tops." One of the Ag Sciences buildings was in front of her; Hoyme was just behind it, standing at least three stories taller than any of the structures around it.

"Should I call the police?"

"No," Buffy barked. She was at a dead sprint, weaving between people. "Is there a fire alarm?"

"Yeah, there's one on every floor."

"Pull it."

"Pull it? Wh-"

"Just do it." Buffy snapped the phone closed and increased her speed. She skidded around the corner and was only a hundred yards or so from Hoyme. She was halfway there when students began streaming out the doors onto the lawn. She slowed her pace, looking for anyone who seemed out of place. A waving arm caught her attention; Bryn pointed off to the former Slayer's right. Buffy's head whipped around; she saw two men built like club bouncers making their way through the crowd that impeded their progress. Between them, Buffy could make out the top of Emily's head. She ran around the edge of the throng, taking a course that would intercept them. Luck was on her side: a small knot of students arguing about what had happened impeded the progress of the two thugs. Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw a tall boy with a mop of unruly hair say something to one of the bad guys, then suddenly drop out of sight. She reached the sidewalk and stopped, planting herself directly in their path. The two goons halted and looked at each other. Emily, seizing the opportunity afforded by their hesitation, turned and ran back into the crowd. The gorillas started after her, but she was gone, and the milling crowd would both conceal her and impede their progress. They turned. Buffy bounced on her toes and shook out her hands. She wanted this, no, she needed this. She took a step forward.

The thugs looked at her, at each other, and then split, one going left, one going right, both disappearing into the melee. Buffy felt a sudden, keen disappointment. She shook her head and realized that she could hear sirens, many sirens. Over the crowd, fire engines and ambulances were visible, with police cruisers in tow. She looked from side to side but the goons were nowhere to be seen. She sighed, shook her head, and began working her way toward the building. Emily was somewhere in the crowd.