*Waugh! Waugh! Waugh!*
The next morning, around ten o'clock, Locke and the group drove back into their residential community.
The scene that met them was jarring. Opposite their lodgings—at the home of Carrie White—there was nothing but ruins. Members of the Augusta Fire Department were working frantically, sifting through the debris.
Gwen, sitting in the passenger seat, frowned as she stepped out of the car. "What happened here?"
Cindy and Kahn climbed out of the back, exchanged a confused look, and shook their heads.
Just then, Mrs. Cord heard the car and hurried out of the neighboring house. "Thank heavens you're back. Pack your things; we're leaving immediately."
"Leaving? Now?" Gwen and Cindy asked in unison. "But our flight isn't until the 10th."
"It's been changed."
...
Inside the house, Gwen and Cindy sat on the sofa with their hands over their mouths, listening as Mrs. Cord recounted the horrors of the previous night's prom.
The two girls shared a look of pure relief. Thank God they hadn't gone.
Mrs. Cord felt a similar surge of gratitude. If something had happened to Gwen or Locke, the fallout would have been catastrophic for Midtown High.
The news of the last night had reached Midtown's board of directors instantly. One of the directors had demanded they return immediately, even sending his private jet when commercial flights couldn't be rescheduled fast enough.
These four students were the pillars of the school's future academic glory. With Gwen and Locke, Midtown was guaranteed honors, which meant prestige, which meant an endless stream of wealthy applicants and donations.
"How could something like this happen?" Gwen whispered.
"No one knows for sure yet," Mrs. Cord shook her head. "But they're saying Carrie White did it."
Gwen and Cindy froze. "What?"
How could the timid Carrie White have done something like that?
Mrs. Cord didn't have all the details—she had been at Sue Snell's house trying to scout the girl for Midtown—but the rumors were flying. "Apparently, at the prom, that girl Chris—the one who was banned—dumped a bucket of pig's blood on Carrie to get back at her."
"That's horrifying," Cindy gasped. "It was the prom!"
Locke, sitting on the adjacent sofa, blinked as he caught Cindy's eye. 'Weren't you planning to have your boyfriend ask out Agent 83 just to dump her at a dance?'
Cindy sensed his gaze and quickly defended herself. "Hey, that woman came to our school to play spy and steal my boyfriend. Dumping blood on her would have been a courtesy. She started it."
But a prank is one thing; ruining a girl's once-in-a-lifetime dream was another.
Locke smiled slightly, stood up, and walked toward the door.
"Don't go far," Mrs. Cord called out. "As soon as the chemistry teacher gets back, we're gone."
Locke gave a non-committal hum and stood on the porch, watching the firefighters digging across the street. The White house hadn't just collapsed; it looked as if a giant hand from the heavens had smashed it into splinters and pressed it into the earth.
Locke watched for a moment, then turned to head back inside.
"Mr. Broughton."
Locke turned. Outside the police tape, two women had stepped out of a black SUV.
One was sharp and authoritative. Locke recognized them immediately, though they shouldn't know he knew them.
Maria Hill, Commander of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Triskelion.
Barbara "Bobbi" Morse, Senior Special Agent (Mockingbird).
"DHS," they identified themselves.
Locke knew the Department of Homeland Security acronym. He looked at the badges—genuine-looking fakes, or perhaps real ones used as a cover—and chuckled. "I thought you people preferred FBI IDs."
Maria Hill exuded a cold, professional aura. "Mr. Broughton, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"Actually, I do."
"..."
"I mind very much," Locke said, meeting her eyes. "I used to have a lot of respect for federal law enforcement, but I've learned respect is a two-way street. If you want to talk to me, make an appointment with my lawyer."
With that, he walked back into the house and shut the door with a firm *thud*.
Did they think just because they were women, he'd start talking? Locke had retired plenty of female targets in his time. The phrase "ruthless toward the fair sex" was practically a chapter in his manual.
Hill shook her head at the closed door and turned back to the ruins.
"You really think this kid is involved?" Bobbi asked.
Hill nodded, then shook her head. "I trust Nick Fury's gut. He's convinced Locke is connected to that other matter, but this incident? Likely not."
"Why?"
"I checked his itinerary before we arrived. He's been away on a trip with his classmates for two days. He only just pulled into the driveway." Hill stared at the flattened remains of the house. "Whether it's him or the Peerless Assassin, they are both mundane. What happened here... this is the supernatural world."
A Witch.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had already reviewed the security footage. The sight of a teenage girl extending her hand and telekinetically stopping a speeding car was etched into Hill's memory. So was the image of the blood-drenched Carrie White floating above the gym floor.
"Did we send her photo to all local precincts and border crossings?"
"It's done."
"Good." Hill looked at the excavators. "There's likely no one—"
"We found them!" a firefighter shouted.
Hill stopped mid-sentence and walked over with Bobbi. Two bodies were being pulled from the debris.
Carrie White.
And her mother.
Hill fell silent. 'Was I wrong?'
A moment later, Sue Snell appeared before Hill. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at the dust-covered Carrie being placed in a body bag. "If I had known... I never would have asked Tommy to take her."
Sue was the opposite of Chris. While Chris blamed others for her own sins, Sue took the weight of the world on her shoulders.
"Take your time," Hill said gently. "Tell me why you came here last night."
Sue looked up, trembling. "I saw Tommy run out of the fire... I was so happy he was alive... then I thought of Carrie. I ran all the way here. I saw the gas station explode, saw Chris dead in the street... and when I got here, Carrie was cradling her mother."
Bobbi's brow furrowed. "Wait. You're saying Carrie killed her mother?"
"Her mother tried to kill her," Sue sobbed. "She said Carrie was the devil's daughter. She stabbed Carrie in the back multiple times. Carrie killed her to survive."
"And then?" Hill asked.
"I ran up to her. I wanted to say I was sorry. Carrie just... she pushed me out. Then the whole house started to crumble. By the time I realized what was happening, the house had buried them both."
It seemed Carrie, heart-broken and weary after killing her only relative, had chosen to let the house take her.
But Bobbi felt something was off. "You were one of the people who bullied her. Why didn't she kill you?"
"I'm pregnant," Sue whispered, looking at her stomach.
Bobbi blinked. "What?"
Sue gave a bitter laugh. "I didn't even know. But Carrie... she knew. She felt it. That's why she pushed me out to safety."
Hill and Bobbi exchanged a look. It made sense.
"Wait." Hill called out to the paramedics preparing to transport the bags. She walked over, unzipped Carrie's bag, and looked at the girl. She looked like a sleeping beauty, peaceful despite the dust. Hill reached behind the girl's back, felt the wounds, then withdrew her hand. "Proceed."
The wounds were there. Two deep stabs.
However, the body felt unusually cold. Even for someone buried underground, the temperature seemed a fraction too low. But given the environment, it was within the realm of possibility.
Across the street, the chemistry teacher had arrived. Locke and the group finished loading the car, ready to head to the airport for their private flight.
Before getting in, Locke looked over at Hill and Bobbi. He offered a polite, harmless, and perfectly charming smile, gave a respectful nod, and stepped into the R8.
The engine roared to life.
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666