Supersonic

(A/N: This was a two person project, so in order for you to be able to tell who wrote what, I've put the writing in bold and normal. Normal font is my writing, and bold font is my amazingly talented friend Danielle's. Enjoy!)

It began as a normal school day. Mrs. Campbell came in early to her classroom in order to get things prepared for a walk around the principal would be making. When the students entered the classroom, they took their seats and turned to Page 314 in their U.S. History books.

“Now,” Mrs. Campbell said, once the class had quieted down. “Is there anyone who would like to read?” She held up the microphone, ready to hand it to her first victim. The students just sat there, many too nervous to raise their hand; too scared to sit in front of their 28 peers and risk messing up. After a minute, Mrs. Campbell sighed and pulled out her jar of pick ‘em sticks. The students watched as she slowly stirred her hand around in the jar – a tiger hunched, ready to pounce. Finally, she picked her prey. Hearts raced as Mrs. Campbell slowly brought the red stick to eye level. Her mouth opened, and the name left her lips.

“Emma.” Instantly, the whole classes’ eyes shot to the top left corner of the classroom where Emma sat, paralyzed. After a moment, her desk partner, Addie, nudged her. Emma slowly walked to the front, all eyes riveted on her. She took a seat and began to read into the microphone.

That’s when it began.

At first, the SMART board behind her flickered green and shut off. Then the speaker for the microphone began to make strange knocking noises. This was a little weird, but the class dismissed it as a malfunction. When Emma was finished, Dawson stepped up to read. He paused to wait for the knocking to stop. After a few seconds, the knocking did indeed stop, but it was replaced with something else; something strange. Something that would scar each child for the rest of their lives.

The speaker went fuzzy, and Dawson lay the microphone down in surprise. A voice came through, the speaker filled with static. Then, “Michelle! . . .” The students glanced uneasily at each other, and Mrs. Campbell searched hesitantly toward the speaker, as if grasping the Voice in the air. She seemed strangely distant, lost in a sea of thought. The Voice spoke once more, differently this time. It said, “Hunger games . . . .”

To this day, Michelle remains the most mysterious person to the students in Room 803. Nobody knows who she is, how she is related to Room 803, or if she even exists. Nobody . . . that is, except for one person . . . Mrs. Campbell.

10 Years Earlier . . .

“We’ve received inside information from our source just outside of Seattle, Washington. They have given us reason to believe that The Spy has been relocated to an undercover position in a middle school, the name of which has been deemed confidential.” There was a break in the radio waves as Teri contemplated the news. She had been working for the CIA for 26 years, but never had she tracked a real foe; The Spy was the CIA’s biggest case, and she, Teri Campbell, was assigned to it.

Teri listened as her boss spoke over the radio to her. “I secured you a position in the same school as The Spy. You’ll be teaching 8th grade U.S. History, as well as ELA. Once The Spy becomes aware of your involvement in the agency, she will be even harder to capture. Don’t worry, I’m sending in a team to watch your back. Doughton and Beckstead will be there to back you up. But in the end, Campbell, you will have to catch The Spy.”

“Backup?” Teri asked through the radio. “Why do I need that?”

“She knows we’re on her trail, and she’s sly. The Spy came here to obtain top secret information about the Agency, and if we don’t confine her, there will be trouble.” Teri listened carefully as her final instructions came through. “Your jet will arrive at precisely 2200 hours. You will be flown to Seattle, where you will then be transferred to your new living quarters. Work will begin in two days’ time. A telegram will arrive later with a last word of advice. And remember, you are not alone. Goodnight and good luck.”