Neverland Academy by Daelynn Quinn Read Free Book Online Page B

Kevin?”
    Kevin’s
dark skin made him nearly invisible in the dim light of the tunnels. He held up
his hand, displaying a ragged coil of wires, some copper and others wrapped in
colored plastic.
    “I
think so,” Kevin replied. His voice was deep and gravelly, which made him sound
much more mature than the boy of fifteen that he was. “I need to strip these
first, but there should be plenty if I disconnect one of the kitchen outlets
and run these down to the main cellar.”
    Finn
thought for a moment, arching his eyebrows and pinching his chin. He narrowed
his eyes at Kevin. “Do you think there’s enough to reach Pervpot’s bedchamber?”
Finn never called the headmaster by his true name. That would give him too much
respect. Too much credibility, which he didn’t deserve. Ever since the incident
that got him kicked out of the academy, Finn had made it his life’s mission to
make Byron Trappe’s life a living hell. Most of his pranks were subtle;
something that could be blamed on chance or coincidence or a random student.
But once in a while he’d do something more substantial, just to remind Trappe that
he was still around and that he still had the upper hand. Out of all the boys
lost to the academy, Finn’s ego was the greatest. He couldn’t be topped. And
that’s why the boys looked to him as their leader.
    “Maybe,”
Kevin replied as he studied the wires. “If not, I can easily get hold of some
smaller wires to attach.”
    “Good,”
said Finn. “We’ll need them.”
                
    ***
                
    A
set of fingers tapped sharply on the varnished mahogany table in tune to the
ticking of the clock that hung on the wall at the head of the conference room.
A cough and a sniffle broke the rhythm. The buzz of a phone that had been
silenced added to the tension, only to be ignored.
    Thirteen
professors, all men, sat at the long conference table, irritated that their
sleep had been interrupted for this impromptu meeting. The stifling heat
aggravated the men even more. Not one of them would escape this room without
sweat stains on his shirt. Most would have had no idea the power had been cut
for nearly an hour had they not been woken up by Trappe’s page. He’d sent
Professor Smeed to check the breaker but when he arrived he was met by Finn,
Trick, and Hangman. They held him off, playing head games with him in the dark,
all to keep him from getting within five feet of the circuit breaker. After an
hour of no power, Trappe called in the other professors. By the time they’d
arrived Smeed was huddled in a corner like a trapped mouse, and the boys were
long gone.
    The
air in the conference room was taut with heat and tension only to be heightened
when the door flung open. Trappe entered and, leaning upon his cane, marched to
the head of the table. The sound of the cane cracked against the wooden
floorboards and his shoes gave off a slightly higher pitch. The angry sound
seemed to amplify the morbid tension.
    Trappe
turned and glared at each of the professors, some of whom actually cowered in
his gaze. Smeed himself refused to make eye contact. He was still visibly
distressed from his encounter with the boys, and ashamed that he’d let a few
teenagers take advantage of him. Trappe’s power over the men was eminent. 
    “I
want the boy!” His voice boomed like thunder as he released the four simple
words. The professors sat silently, none audacious enough to grant a response.
Trappe paced slowly but steadfast, never taking his eyes off the professors. It
would have been comical, him marching around the conference room in his
blue-striped pajamas and cotton robe, had the circumstances not been so dire.
    “We’ve
let that boy slip through our fingers too many times,” Trappe sneered. “It’s
time once and for all to eliminate him.”
    “But
sir,” piped in a man with a face that resembled a horse, “how are we supposed
to find him? He’s been here for what, five years now? And