“I,” Charles said over the walkie-talkie, “hate women. Over.”
“Fantastic,” Joe said at the other end.
“I’m serious. Over.”
“Never said you weren’t. Over.”
Silence and static from the other line.
“This isn’t about Alice, is it?” Joe asked. Then, remembering, “Over.”
“It’s about Alice and Cassandra and all women. Whom I hate! Over.”
“You know,” Joe said, hoping he was sounding persuasive, “you could always join us in the effort. Over.”
“Then Alice would be mad at me. Over.”
“I thought you hated her. Over.”
“Plus, I don’t really want to die, so. . . Yeah. Over.”
“Come on. Just. . . Just JOIN THE DARK SIDE. Over.” Then thinking about it and what Cassandra had said about Charles one day—that he was so easily influenced by peer pressure or something like that (typical Cassandra)—Joe added, “Actually, Un-Over. Come on, Charles. It’s me, Cary, Cassandra, and Preston. I promise I won’t be bossy. Over.”
“Martin.”
He didn’t say “Over.” “What? Over.”
“Martin’s on your side, too. Over.”
“Since when?! Over.”
“Since he’s been on this ‘It is my noble duty to protect Cary’ thing since he, well, didn’t protect Cary. Over.”
Joe remembered Martin’s erratic behavior at the hospital. “Oh. Well, cool! Wait, not cool. I mean—Just come with us. Please. Please, please, please. Over.”
He heard Charles heave a heavy sigh. “Fine. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. But if you want Alice to come, you’re going to have to hurry. Over.”
“Why? Over.”
“Because the field trip is this Friday. Over.” It was Wednesday.
“Alice!” Joe said, acting happy to see her. Not that he wasn’t. Just not as much as usual.
“Joe,” she said, smiling at the desk in homeroom. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to apologize.” Joe hated apologizing. “For being such a jerk lately—” Cassandra snickered in the row behind Alice “—and bringing you into all this alien propaganda.”
Joe ignored the look he was sure he was receiving from Cassandra. If looks could kill, Joe would be hit by a bus, drowned in a river, and hacked into tiny pieces. Then cremated.
“It worked,” Alice said, using that laconic tone of voice girls use when they’re mad.
“What?” Joe said, using that confused tone of voice boys use when they don’t understand girls.
“I’m in,” Alice said. “I’m going to risk my life for fictional extra-terrestrial creatures.”
Cassandra snickered. “Ha! Fictional. . .”
“What? They are fictional!”
“I’ll bet they’re more real than your personality.”
Alice glared at Cassandra, and then turned back to Joe. “And I hope you’re happy.”
“I am!!” Joe said, looking at Charles from the corner of his eye.
“DID YA MISS ME?!” Cary shouted from the doorway of the classroom. He was in a wheelchair, a backpack resting in his lap.
“Cary!” Martin yelled, standing up.
“You’re alive,” Cassandra remarked.
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Cary said, taking the seat between her and Preston. He dumped his backpack on the floor, and it made a suspiciously loud thud.
“Those aren’t books,” Cassandra said.
“Of course not. They’re fireworks,” he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, “for our plan tomorrow. Where hopefully, all of us will participate.” For this part, he was whispering almost directly into Alice’s ear. Swatting him away like a fly, Alice hissed, “Shut up. I’m already in.”
“Wait, seriously?!”
“Cary, quiet down.” The teacher looked at them curiously.
“Dude, we’re getting the whole gang back together again!” No one else looked happy about it.
YOU ARE READING
The Call of the Others
FanfictionDid you like the cover? I tried, guys, I tried to make it cool... ANYWAY, this is about the gang we all know and love in the school year after the attack. There's a new girl named Cassandra, who's supposed to be me. I know that's kind of lame, so I'...
