Chapter 36: Anomaly (Part 1)

Brand new tea steamed from the cup on the principal’s desk.

Milo sat on the wooden chair up front, jammed between Henry, Mr. Cald, and Grace.

At Mr. Thwaite’s elbow, Aldous’ wife had a laptop open.

"Miss Rolt, are you ready?" the principal asked. "Can we begin the interrogation?"

"Oh, come on, Andrew," Mr. Cald addressed the man. "We are not in court."

"Please, are you ready?"

"Yes," said Miss Rolt. "It would be appreciated if you hurried, though. Every student gets a piece of cake for Aldous’ return."

Indeed, Milo had no time to help Mr. Thwaite decide what to call the interview.

Someone coughing outside would put the cure in doubt; once Aldous was found, the staff would start comparing that failure with every strange thing they had heard about Milo.

"Without further ado, let’s begin." He cleared his throat. "This is the 17th of October, year 622 of the second millennium. I am Andrew Thwaite, the principal of the Hollins Cross Academy, and we are investigating the reports of an entity observed by the students."

Henry tapped his knee without pause. Mr. Cald rubbed his temples. Grace had pulled her shoulders up to her ears.

Hearing no clicking, the man turned back to the woman.

She raised an eyebrow, as though disappointed the principal treated that part as necessary, but she obliged and typed it in.

Mr. Thwaite took off his glasses and set them on the desk’s edge.

"Milo Zeuqe, please tell us your side of the story."

Grace needed that door to have been locked.

If Cald kept their meeting to himself and the cooks confirmed that Milo had taken their soup, Thwaite would have a frightened, hungry boy to deal with, one who had already admitted his little share of wrongdoing.

He slowly crossed his legs, creating a pocket of air masking the Flanged Flail, and faced the secretary.

"I was on the bed, back in the isolation room. Miss Grace had closed the door, and I did not even attempt to leave."

The secretary nodded before he finished the sentence.

"I was so tired I must have drifted off, because a bang woke me."

Miss Rolt’s nails pecked the words in, and Mr. Thwaite leaned forward to read Grace’s face.

"At first I thought I’d dreamed it. But there was air coming in from the corridor. When I looked up, the door was open."

The principal fixed on Milo, his expression going grave as the clicks at his elbow recorded the testimony.

"I know I should have stayed in the room, sir, but I was hungry, and someone was screaming." Milo lowered his eyes. "I... ran to the kitchen."

"All right," Mr. Thwaite said. "Tell me what happened when you got there."

"They saw the blood and started asking questions. I said I’d come to collect food for my class, because I thought they’d send me back if they knew where I’d been. That was a lie, sir. I stayed at the far table, though, away from everyone. There were a few jokes, but I was trying to make them less frightened of me."

By jokes, he meant the good old You know how Survey students are.

As Thwaite nodded along, Milo slowed to the pace of Miss Rolt’s typing and gave her time to finish before he continued.

"After I’d eaten, I meant to go back. But I kept remembering the scream. It was too close. Too... visceral. And with the door open I didn’t feel safe in the isolation room. So I stayed in the corridors."

"Wait, wait." Mr. Thwaite extended one palm and took a sip from the cup. "There were classes, so why did you not knock or ask for help?"

"As I said, I was scared of the consequences! I don’t know..." Milo tilted his head at the two instructors. "But that’s when I stumbled upon the relic room."

"When did that happen, Milo? How long between your departure and the relic room?"

"It was hard to tell how long anything took. But... fast footsteps spooked me. Someone was running and shouting. I panicked and hid between the lockers, waiting there, for maybe ten minutes or so."

Milo knew very well where Mr. Cald was at that time. But since the instructor had no idea Milo knew, he secured the man an alibi and played dumb per their deal. All in one go.

Down the row, the temple-rubbing gained a second hand.

Mr. Thwaite gave Grace a short nod, at which she became very interested in her knees, and Milo continued.

"When I finally mustered up the courage to move out, I went after the sound. Just in case someone got hurt, you know. Sir."

So an innocent boy had mistaken the secretary’s shrieks about himself for danger. The puzzle was beautifully assembling itself.

"And the relic room, when I found it, was trashed. Like a storm went through it! In self-defense, I grabbed the first weapon I saw, which was the Iron Turnhook."

"My God..." The principal rested his forehead on his palm, staring into the tea, terrified of an entity that casually opened doors with thuds and drew screams.

"S-So I took it. I’m sorry, I know it’s, it’s wrong... u-uh. What was I supposed to do...?"

He heaved in a breath to choke the fake sobs back, and a flange poked up under his sweater like a fin.

With Thwaite staring into his tea and Miss Rolt typing, Milo eased the air out until the cloth settled over his stomach. The men beside him were close enough to hear the chain if he shifted.

"Hey, shh, boy, it’s alright! We have greater worries now. Please, continue, what happened next?"

"Then... I vomited. The carrot soup, not only did I eat so much of it, it must’ve done something to me. I started feeling sick."

Miss Rolt’s nails slowed over carrot soup.

That accounted for any vomit traces. Even Aldous’ slide, and what he had slipped on, went down as an accident and nothing more.

"Then... the end. I only hid, listened for footsteps, avoided everyone. I was too afraid, both of whatever was lurking in the corridors and, well..."

"Avoided everyone," Mr. Cald cut in. "For the record, Andrew. Four instructors walked this building in shifts. The Parish Warden walked it. Six hundred students behind doors that, as we now learn, opened." He tipped his head toward Milo without looking at him. "Nobody so much as passed him?"

"I’m small, sir."

"You are."

As Miss Rolt’s nails had gone quiet, Mr. Thwaite looked from the instructor to the boy, waiting for the point.

"Where, then?" Mr. Cald prompted. "When you heard us coming. Where does a small boy go?"

The instructor could ask about every room in the school without mentioning the one where they had met, and Milo had already used the lockers. Whatever hiding place he offered next, he might be made to show it to them.

"The maintenance stack, for example. The one by the bathroom, with the dropcloth."

"All on the first floor?"

"Is it?" Milo pulled his shoulders in. "I wasn’t counting floors, sir."

The man’s jaw worked once, and he let the subject go.

"Couldn’t he have stayed out of the way?" Henry asked. "I’ve lost sight of him on the road before. You turn round to say something and he’s gone off the path."

"So you saw the ghost?" Mr. Thwaite glanced at the laptop. "The entity, I should say. Did you see it?"

"No, never. But I heard it. And saw the aftermath. The trashed relics, the opened doors, the roars... I also once threw up in the corridor. Sorry. After that, I spent my time hiding in the bathroom."

"Which bathroom?" Mr. Cald, again.

Milo kept his eyes on the principal.

"The one with the broken door."

"While the Warden was outside it?" The man laid a palm on the desk. "You stayed in that bathroom, and neither he nor the entity found you?"

"It would seem so, sir."

"You sneak well."

Grace’s shoulders climbed another notch.

What the hell is his deal?

"You make it sound like a hobby, sir." Without waiting for Cald to answer, he hurried on. "One night, there was a roar, followed by a crash and a scraping noise along the corridor. The school comms had said the Warden was here, so I thought it was a battle."

At the laptop, the dead man’s wife typed in battle and waited for more.

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⋆˚࿔ Coming right up: "Anomaly (Part 2: Finale)" ... ⤵︎ [!]