The Children of Light Episode 2

Peter collapsed on his bed, letting the soft mattress swallow him. After all that running, his legs felt like jelly, and his arms ached, but he had won. He’s beaten the almighty Thomas Wolfe. Just like he’d known he would. The weeks of practice had been worth it. He could just imagine the kids who would gather around him in the cafeteria, in the hallways. He would be famous, finally recognized for what he was: the best. In his last school, he had been the fastest runner. Then, they had attacked. The whole school had burned to the ground, just like his home. His heart started to beat like a mini drum, and he could feel his hands start to shake. No. He couldn’t think about that.

Getting up, he walked over to his closet, where he had hung his gym bag on a bungee cord. He started pounding it, letting his emotions out with every punch. Up, down, block, side, up in in in, side, dodge, in in, dodge. He found himself getting lost in the rhythm, a pattern only he could decipher. He barely even heard his roommate enter the room.

“You must really hate that bag,” Carter said, coming up beside Peter. “You know, that and your homework.”

“I don’t need another person pretending to be my mother.” He gave one last punch, then turned to Carter, glaring.

“Alright. Just don’t complain to me when you fail.”

“I won’t, because I don’t plan on failing.”

“Whatever,” Carter mumbled, walking to the closet and taking his Bible off the shelf. “I’m going to go study for a bit.” Without another word, he left, closing the door a little harder than necessary.

Fine. He didn’t need friends anyway. Turning back to the gym bag, he suddenly found he didn’t have any strength left to pound it. He sighed, walking over to his desk where days of homework lay scattered around in various stages of completion. For some reason, the teachers hadn’t asked him about his homework at all since he’d gotten there. Maybe they were letting him settle in first. Or maybe they’re letting you off easy because they feel sorry for you.

He grabbed the nearest Algebra worksheet and powered through it, fueled by his anger. He didn’t need friends. All they would ever do was leave anyway. He barely registered as he started on another sheet.

“You okay?” Carter’s voice came from next to him, making him whirl around as his heart raced.

“Geez! Can’t you knock?”

Carter retreated like he’d been kicked, and Peter took a deep breath, letting it out through his mouth. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that? Is it required to ask the new guy if he’s okay?”

“Sorry… you just,” Carter paused, and his jaw tensed. “You look like you could use a friend.”

There it was. The dagger strike that always came. “Yeah, well—” His hands started shaking again, and he stuffed them in his pockets, trying to hold back the tears burning inside. Without another word, he left the room, slamming the door behind him to keep Carter from even thinking of following. Part of him hated himself for shutting out everyone who wanted to be his friend, but the other part felt safer this way

He didn’t even know where he was until his feet stepped off the stone path and onto the soft sand of the beach. There, alone, he sank to his knees—crying—half-hoping someone would hear him, but the only response  was the gentle lull of the waves.

“Alright, here are the rules,” The speaker’s voice carried across the field to the students gathered in groups of five. “Each team will pick a team leader. Once that is done, the team leader will receive a flag. Your team will have two minutes to claim your base and plant the flag so it is visible from all sides. Once the time is up, you will have to defend your flag while trying to capture as many flags from the other teams as possible. Remember, this is not war.” He aimed a warning look at a few muscular boys, who gave him innocent faces. 

“There will be no causing of injuries, no hitting, scratching, or trampling. Tackling is allowed, but dogpiling will result in immediate termination of your team. Remember what Mr. LeBron taught you. Are there any questions?”

Peter looked around at the six other groups. Sure enough, he spotted Thomas stretching in one of the further ones. When he caught Peter’s gaze, he narrowed his eyes. Oh, it’s on, Wolfe.

“I think the new kid should be the leader. He did win the last game, and he took down Thomas.”

Peter turned his attention to his own team, who were now all staring at him.

“What do you say? You want to be the captain?” the tallest boy asked, and Peter paused for a moment before letting out a snort.

“Nah. You all keep the flag safe. I’ll gather the other flags.” 

The others stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Let me get this straight. You want us to sit around while you gather all the flags.” a red-headed girl complained. “By yourself.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I couldn’t do it.” Peter gave the others a hard stare, daring them to object. No one did.

“Alright, then it’s settled. The tall guy gets to be in charge of the defense. The rest of you guard the flag with your lives.”

“So, none of us get to snatch a flag?” the red-headed girl complained again, and he turned on her. 

“That’s right. Trust me, with Thomas against us, you’ll have plenty of action.”

She just huffed in response, though the look on her face made it clear she understood.

Once they were handed their red flag, the team turned to the announcer.

“On your marks!” The speaker shouted.

“Grove of trees to the right. Should offer some protection,” the tallest boy said, and Peter nodded.

“Get set!”

Peter bounced on the balls of his feet, setting his sights on the grove.

“Go!”

Six teams sprinted toward their spot, and he saw that one had the same idea as theirs, making their way to the grove. Without so much as an explanation, he dashed ahead , snatching their flag, then sprinted for the grove. The sound of footsteps behind him meant another runner was carrying the other team’s flag. No way was he going to let someone beat him. 

Eyeing the thick grove, he lept over a boulder in the path, buying himself a few seconds. Ducking through the trees, he raced toward the center of the grove and drove his flag into the ground.

He turned at the sound of skidding footsteps, smirking as he saw who had been chasing him. Thomas.

“Better find another spot and enjoy your flag while you can. Cause you’re not going to have it for long.”

Scowling, Thomas turned and hurried away, expertly dodging through the trees. He had to admit the guy was pretty good. Too bad he wasn’t the best anymore.

“That was a close one,” the tall boy’s voice came through the trees and the rest of the team emerged, clawing their way out of the branches and into the clearing. It would be a miracle if they were able to keep the flag.

“I was holding back.” Peter flashed them a smirk before turning and walking into the woods without another word. Sure, he couldn’t steal flags until the signal came, but they hadn’t said anything about spying. Carefully avoiding any twigs or dry leaves,he navigated through the trees, stopping when he heard voices up ahead.

A boy, probably the captain, was giving orders to his team, “Alright. You two will come with me. We’ll split up and surround the flag. Then, on my signal, Haley will run toward the flag while one of us sneaks in and takes the flag.”

Perfect. Two flags were already in his grasp. Since this guy was sending three out of five people out that left two to guard the flag, an easy snatch. Then, he would let the attacking party grab another flag and ambush them in open territory where he couldn’t be captured.

The blast of an airhorn echoed through the forest, and he heard rustling as the team in front of him moved out. Creeping forward, he pushed a branch out of the way, revealing a small clearing in which the green flag sat seemingly unguarded. Searching the trees, he caught sight of a green t-shirt in the trees, and on the other side of the clearing, a boot poked out from behind a rock. He could try making a break for it, but the other two would probably sound the alarm. He had to make a distraction. Too bad he hadn’t been allowed to bring anything with him. His package of twist bangs were still in his drawer.

Eyeing the tree above him, he was surprised to see spiky hard leaves. Holly. Extremely bendable and easy to climb. Maybe… Grasping the bottom branch, he pulled himself up, then grabbed for the next branch. In a matter of seconds, he was up at the top, forcing himself to stay still as the tree swayed. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, he threw his weight toward the clearing, and the whole tree bent under his weight.

A gasp went up from the other tree, and a short girl with black hair leaped out into the clearing.

Bracing himself, he brought his legs up to his chest and then shot them down, propelling himself toward the flag. In one swift motion, he grabbed the top with his legs and brought them up again, swinging himself backwards just as the girl reached him. The tree straightened again, and he swung the other way, dropping onto the ground and dashing toward the grove. The footsteps behind him doubled as he sprinted, dodging branches and roots. Emerging into his clearing, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was the team, standing awkwardly where the flag should have been.

“What happened?!” Peter almost yelled, and the leader looked down.

“Thomas happened,” he started. “He came in so fast we couldn’t have seen him coming. Then he threw sand all around him. When we opened our eyes, he was gone. He left this note.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, and Peter snatched it from him, reading the sloppy handwriting,

“Now we’re even”

Oh no we’re not, Peter thought as two people grabbed his arms. We’re just getting started.

“Jack, please come with me.” His teacher’s voice held a threat beneath her façade of patience. It wasn’t surprising that he was being taken to the principal’s office. What was surprising was how long it had taken. For weeks, his teachers had put up with his “careless attitude.” His math teacher had even given him a private one-on-one session, where he had just sat there and stared at her. It had been kind of amusing watching her squirm until she finally dismissed him.

The weird part was that he didn’t even know why he did it. It wasn’t like he didn’t learn the information. He even had a half-dozen almost complete worksheets to prove it. Maybe something inside him just wanted to be a bad student… or he just got a kick out of keeping his teachers on their toes.

“Jack.” The teacher’s voice held a little less patience as she waited for him to get up. Shrugging off his thoughts, he got up and walked toward the door to the hallway, letting his confused math teacher follow him into the hallway.

“Jack,” came the exasperated call from behind him

He turned to face his teacher, walking backwards, which seemed to just make her more exasperated.

“Where are you going? I just wanted to talk to you!” The last part came out as an angry hiss, and he stopped walking.

His math teacher took a deep breath, closing her eyes like she was meditating. Opening them again, she fixed him with a stare. “You know, I solve problems for a living, but I just can’t figure you out. If there were at least some pattern, maybe I could at least get an idea of what’s going on. You turn in your papers late, even though it’s obvious you’ve done them days ago. If you answer the problems correctly, you erase it and put the wrong answer. And your acting up in class is disruptive.”

Jack looked away to keep her from seeing the smile on his face. He had been expecting this of course. The sooner they saw he was a failure, the sooner they would send him away. But away where. He shook his head, turning back to the teacher.

“Jack,” she said in a lighter tone. “I know you’ve been through a lot, but you’re not alone. Most of the kids here have been through similar circumstances. This academy is more of a hospital than anything else. Pretty much anyone would be willing to help you if you only asked.”

“What makes you think there’s something wrong with me?” Jack snapped, and his teacher bit her lip.

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with you. It’s just you’re hurting is all.”

“Yeah, and you think crying over their shoulders is going to help that?” He turned away, not sure where he was going.

“Please, Jack, you’re making this harder on yourself than on anyone else.”

“Yeah? Well maybe it’s better that way.” Without letting her respond, he walked down the hallway. If only she could see the darkness inside him, then she wouldn’t be trying to help him. She would be afraid of him.