Meap Me in St. Louis

Chapter 10: Battle Erupting

SKYLAR

Originally, The Genius Files was created in lieu of the events of 9/11, by a Polish genius named Herman Warsaw. His goal with the program was to recruit bright, young children to carry out missions for the government and take the roles of responsibility that the adult leaders were (and still are) failing to do. But then the program failed, he became an insane homicidal maniac, he committed genocide against countless innocent children from the program over the span of several years, he faked his death multiple times, and he tried to take over the country. Yep, that all happened. And guess who had to deal with him?

(Okay, actually, first it was these two bizarrely-named twins from California, and then it was us.)

Ever since he was FINALLY taken down two years ago, his program was revived by an old mentor of ours, Dr. Clive Magdon, and ran by the Sides'. However, instead of being raised as intelligence officers and super spies, members of TGF get to train with their own skills in ways that will actually benefit society, whether it's developing new technology or just having different world views to offer. Not that it's done jack shit for America, but hey, no one's been slaughtered because of it. (Yet.)

A jet carrier lands right next to the house. The door opens and a squadron of children, as young as 11 and as old as 18, come pouring out onto the field. Rachel hurries them along, shouting "C'mon, everyone, move it!"

I count six rows of seven lining up in a square formation. We've already stationed ourselves at the front, lined up and about a hundred feet away from a hush of trees. From right to left when looking at us from the front, it's Brea, Avery, Brielle, Avalon, me, an empty spot for Rachel, Heath, Jack, Eghosa, and Elle. Sam is above us, riding his HoverBoard-8500. We're each supplied with earmics for easier long-distance communication, both with each other and with the people back in the lab.

When Avalon sees the reserves, she scoffs at the size. "Please. That's barely an army," she grumbles.

"You'd be surprised at what they can do," I whisper to her.

Then I look past them at Brea. She's a clear outlier among us. I know everyone on our team as well as the back of my hand... except for her. The only reason she's affiliated with us at all is that she convinced us to go on a treasure hunt several years ago (which, by the way, ended up being a waste of time). She held her own back then, but this is something even WE aren't familiar with. Even still, she hasn't done this anywhere close to as many times as the rest of us, so her experience is naturally way lower. It almost feels irresponsible to drag her along knowing this, especially since the only reason she's with us at all is that she just happened to be with Avery when it all started. We have a nearly perfect track record with keeping everyone alive (emphasis on "nearly"), and nobody wants this to put a blemish on that.

From where I'm standing, I'm able to whisper loudly enough so Avery can hear me, but not Brea. "Are we sure it's a good idea to let her fight with us?"

"Sam said as long as someone keeps an eye on her, it'll be fine," she replies. That quells my worries, but not by much.

Heath pulls out an AR-15, a prop he's not even legal to own. Don't ask me how he got it. He's been a sharp shooter for as long as I've known him, and while I'd never tell him myself, I'm always impressed with his skills. Jack also gets out a pistol, during which Heath asks him, "You been training?"

"I've gone to the shooting range a couple of times this past year."

"Good."

Once we have everyone assembled, Sam says to the hovercraft, "Alright, boy, show me what we've got here." It uses its laser to cut down a large chunk of the trees, exposing Mitch's gigantic spaceship. Somehow, it looks less impressive from afar, like it's drawn in a lower resolution. Cartoons don't seem to mimic real-life perspective.