Homeroom Headhunters by Clay McLeod Chapman Page B

exit.
    A javelin struck a locker to my left. The rattle of metal reverberated through the hall.
    â€œYea-ah!”
    Something grabbed my ankles.
    One second I’m hightailing it down the hall, doing my best at half-blind hurdling—the next, my legs are tangled together.
    â€œWhoa, whoa—”
    Instantly cinched.
    Face-plant.
    Carpet burn.
    My flashlight. What happened to my flashlight?
    The beam rolled back and forth across the carpet before finally stopping on a pair of bare feet heading my way.
    Yardstick.
    I flipped over onto my back—and what did I find?
    A jump rope with each end tied to a hacky sack for extra weight.
    I kept kicking until the homemade bola started to slacken. Then I pulled my left foot out and stumbled back up.
    This is all about pushing me down the hall. They’re trying to cor ral me.
    But to where?
    Just get out of the building now, Spencer. Go, go, go!
    I made a mad dash to the exit, and a wave of relief washed over me as I pushed the door.…
    Only it wouldn’t open.
    The handle was padlocked and wrapped in chains.
    I pushed again, harder. The chains rattled, but the door wouldn’t budge.
    I should have known: run down either wing and you hit an exit.
    But if the exit is chained, you’re trapped.
    Like a rat.
    Somebody blasted a whistle, but it was impossible to tell who it was or from where. It was immediately answered by a warble in the hall. That had to have been Sporkboy.
    He was joined by another call, sounding like it had come from my left.
    They were communicating with one another, telling each other where they were.
    Then another call from behind…I think.
    Three of them, and they were getting louder.
    No. Not louder.
    Nearer .
    They were closing in.
    â€œKill the pig!”
    â€œCut his throat!”
    â€œSpill his blood!”
    I had to get past them.
    I pressed my back against a row of lockers and started sidling along. I had only gone a few steps before the lockers ended and I bumped into a water fountain. I quickly ducked, balling myself up directly next to it, and prayed the Tribe hadn’t noticed.
    Maybe they hadn’t seen me.
    Maybe .
    I heard the soft slap of footsteps patter by.
    â€œWhich way did he go?” one of them whispered.
    â€œHe was just here!”
    â€œWell, find him!”
    I waited until I knew they had walked a few steps past, then gave myself another second before bolting.
    â€œThere he goes!”
    I picked up speed. They were right behind me—Yardstick and Compass. Sporkboy, too. His panting had a slight whistle to it.
    If I could make it back to the main body of the building without getting speared, I could reach the front entrance.
    One by one, the charge of bare feet behind me dwindled. I must have put some distance between me and the rest.
    The central hallway was just ahead. All I had to do was take a quick turn and…
    I skidded to a halt.
    I was suddenly staring through the Y-shaped barrel of Sully’s slingshot, aimed straight at my nose. She was biting down on the mouthpiece of her silver-rimmed whistle.
    The air emptied from my lungs.
    â€œThat was close,” I whispered. “I thought I was goner. We’ve got to get to the front entrance before—”
    Sully didn’t lower her arm.
    â€œSully…?”
    Her slingshot remained trained on me.
    â€œPlease?”
    Sully blew into her whistle.
    I was on my own.
    I darted past her before she could fire. I heard the CLINK! of a coin hitting the wall just to my right, quickly followed by another.
    There was no way I’d make it to the front entrance now.
    I had to hide.
    Somewhere no one would think to look for me. Somewhere nobody would be crazy enough to go.
    A place so out there, no one would even conceive of it as a hiding spot.
    There was only one place I could think of.
    â€¢ • •
    â€œSpencer.” Sully’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Come out, come out, wherever you