Page 23 of The Executioners Three

With frantic speed, she shoved the papers back into the box and shoved the box back into its shadowy corner. She raced upstairs and slipped out the front door without ever seeing who was home and without ever being seen.

Freddie had more work to do.

By the time Freddie finally reached school, her hair was a mess from the frantic ride. Worse, her stomach was deeply displeased from skipped cereal.

She sheepishly signed in at the front desk—this wasn’t the first time she’d been late (mornings were hard, okay?)—and slunk into second period right as the bell finished ringing. She felt slightly guilty about missing Mr. Binder’s class…

But only slightly. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to face him after what had happened on the pageant stage.

Sigh. What had Freddie been thinking? Oh yeah. She hadn’t been.

Freddie joined Divya at their usual spots in the back row of trig, and Divya gazed at Freddie with unmasked horror.

Two minutes later, when Mr. Gonzalez started talking about cosigns and tangents, a note landed on Freddie’s desk.

Though it lacked Divya’s usual pencil hearts and sunshines, it was still expertly folded with a little pull-tab on one side.

After a quick check that Mr. Gonzalez wasn’t looking (he wasn’t), Freddie tugged. The note unfolded.

You look like death. Is Theo a vampire? Was that a hickey or a bite wound?

Freddie hastily scribbled back, Ha ha. Very funny. And NO. There was an incident last night with Mrs. Ferris. She got hurt, and we had to call 911.

OMG. Is she okay? Are you okay?

I’m fine. Mrs. Ferris is in the hospital . In quick, broad details, Freddie relayed what had happened. What she did not relay were the Very Strange things Mrs. Ferris had said right before she’d been attacked.

Nor did Freddie relay the guilt that was eating her alive. Maybe if she’d stayed—if she’d just tackled Mrs. Ferris and forced her to go back home… Maybe the old woman would be safe right now.

And while yes, Mrs. Ferris had survived whatever had attacked her, that was entirely thanks to modern medicine. Not Freddie. Even dream-Freddie had been more interested in making out with Theo than saving his grandmother.

Freddie knew, deep in her rumbling, roiling gut, that what had happened was her fault. Modern medicine could only do so much for an eighty-seven-year-old woman, and if Mrs. Ferris died…

No. Freddie would make this right. Somehow. She would get answers. She would figure out why deadly things kept happening in the City-on-the-Berme county park.

The truth was out there.

Halfway through class (after neither Freddie nor Divya had taken any notes), Zach Gilroy raised his hand and asked, “Does anyone else smell that?”

At once, everyone’s noses lifted. And yes, Freddie did smell something like rotting fish. She and Divya shared a glance. Divya looked frightened; Freddie felt sick.

“That smells like the archives,” Divya whispered.

“Yeah,” Freddie agreed, and she couldn’t help but glance at the fluorescent lights, expecting them to snap off at any moment. She swallowed, waiting. Waiting.

“I think it’s getting worse!” This came from Todd Raskin, who was now popping the cap off his inhaler.

“It is definitely getting worse,” Carly Zhang replied.

Divya huddled close to Freddie. “What does your gut say?”

“Nothing,” Freddie admitted, her gaze still target-locked on the lights. And while Divya relaxed at this news, Freddie did not. Not because she didn’t trust her own gut…

But because why did she keep encountering this awful stench? Bowman had mentioned roadkill, and that would certainly explain the rotting death stink from the forest. And maybe from the archives too.

It would not, however, explain the stench right now in trigonometry.

The heat began to rise. Not just a low-key warming either, but a frogs-in-boiling-water kind of elevation.

“Stay here,” Mr. Gonzalez wheezed before ducking into the hall.

No one stayed. It stank so badly and the room was so hot . After five minutes, everyone had stripped down to their lowest possible clothing items. Then Zack started vomiting into the trash bin, and everyone got up and bolted. Including Freddie and Divya.

They found the hallway outside already packed—and also just as hot and just as foul. Which was why all the students and teachers were charging for the exits. A vast parade of bodies trying very hard not to retch.

Right as Freddie and Divya toppled outside and blessedly fresh air poured over them, the intercom crackled to life.

“Attention Berm High,” Principal Tamura intoned.

“There has been an issue with the furnace, and… it would seem…” Her voice choked, like she was trying to contain a gag reflex.

“It would seem dead fish have been stuffed into the air ducts. Please note, school is now canceled for the remainder of the day. Go home. ”

“Dead fish,” Divya hissed at the blue sky. Then again at Freddie: “Thank god. It was just dead fish. Maybe that was what we smelled at the archives too?”

“I don’t think so,” Freddie murmured. Clearly dead fish in the furnace was why Theo Porter had needed Mr. Binder’s key to the school. And clearly they had succeeded with their wicked plot.

“Well, if this is what Fortin Prep considers a prank,” Divya declared, giving a happy hip shimmy, “then they are terrible at it.”

Or ingenious, Freddie thought as she counted six separate students hurling onto the grass—and four teachers too.

Divya’s phone rang, and while she answered it, Freddie examined her own phone: 10:03 , the screen read—which meant she had hours during which to accomplish her rapidly expanding to-do list. Now that she’d sucked it up and combed through her dad’s stash in the basement, she wanted to go to the library to dig up more newspaper articles.

And also, while she was out, Freddie really wanted to hit up the hospital and check on Mrs. Ferris. Then there was still the fact that Sheriff Bowman hadn’t returned Xena as promised—a truly unforgivable travesty.

Yeah, school getting canceled was actually a huge gift, and Freddie wondered if she might get a chance to thank Theo for it… She wondered how she might thank him for it…

As Divya finished her call, she glanced at Freddie. Then behind Freddie. “Dr. Born. Ten o’clock.” She grabbed hold of Freddie’s wrist.

“My ten o’clock or your ten o’clock?” Freddie flung her gaze around… Until sure enough, there he was with his gray head, gray beard, and keen brown eyes.

He was looking right at Freddie, his lips parting as if to call her over.

Nope, nope, nope! No way was she giving up her newfound freedom to that stuffy counselor from out of town.

“Run,” she hissed, and Divya needed no more urging. As one, they sprinted for the back of the school. Once around the corner, they dove behind a dumpster.

A mostly empty dumpster—thank god. Freddie couldn’t handle much more rot in one day. “How long should we hide?” Freddie whispered, pulling out Sabrina.

“I don’t think we need to whisper,” Divya replied.

“Of course we do,” Freddie said, still whispering. “This is like GoldenEye .”

“Yeah.” Divya made a face. “Which you also don’t have to whisper for. It’s a freaking N64 game—”

“Hello,” Kyle said, suddenly appearing beside them.

Freddie flinched; Divya yelped.

He smiled, dropping to a graceful squat. “What are you two doing back here?”

“Uh,” Divya answered while Freddie offered a meek shrug.

“You know,” Freddie began in a whisper. Then, because she realized it did sound foolish, she coughed and said normally, “We’re just, uh, hanging out. Behind a dumpster. As people do.”

“Right.” Kyle nodded as if people did do that, and Freddie found herself wondering how he could be so pretty yet so empty inside.

Then again, she supposed it was really just evolutionary fairness. If he’d gotten all the good looks and the smarts, the Matrix would probably glitch forever, leading to the end of all life as they knew it.

“We’re going to the Quick-Bis,” Kyle said, still smiling that winning smile. “Do you wanna come?”

Part of Freddie did want to go. Of course she did. She liked the Prank Squad. And she liked Kyle Friedman. (She did, she did!)

“I… can’t,” she said eventually. “I have Very Important Things I need to do.”

“Oh.” A flicker of disappointment. But then he rallied. “Well, do you want company? I could join you.”

Freddie gulped. Kyle had known about the Executioners Three poem, even if he hadn’t remembered specifics. Maybe he could help Freddie in other ways…

She should say yes. Particularly since Lance Bass wasn’t around anymore, so it wasn’t the keychain’s magic making Kyle interested.

Yet for some reason, when Freddie looked at Kyle’s face, she found herself thinking of Theo instead. Of how he’d looked in her dream, with his hands outstretched and an iron heart resting upon his palms. Kyle was beautiful and a troublemaker.

But Theo was beautiful and tortured. And for some reason, that was a lot more appealing.

Except no, no, no. Freddie had promised Divya she wouldn’t think about Theo ever again. He was a Montague, and the risk was simply too great.

Freddie had a crush on Kyle; she liked him, and now she was going to tell him yes.

“I’m fine by myself,” she said. “I think I’ll get done faster on my own.” Inwardly, she karate-chopped herself.

“Oh.” There was that disappointment on Kyle’s flawless face again, and Freddie hated herself for it. She was probably breaking some kind of law right now—the fifth law of thermodynamics or the eleventh commandment or something. Thou shalt not hurt the King of Berm High School’s feelings.

“You should go to the Quick-Bis, Div.” Freddie turned to her best friend (who was watching this entire scene with a very disapproving stare).

“Yes,” Kyle agreed, now flashing his winning smile onto Divya. “Laina was going to call you, but I could just give you a ride instead.”

“Um,” Divya hesitated.

“ Or you could go with Laina,” Freddie nudged. “Didn’t she already call you?”