How to Save Your School From Soul Stealing Demons

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

"You're sure you'll be okay?" Renny asks Watts from the seat behind me, my old spot next to him. The switch of our usual seats in Ambrose's truck was unspoken, but I'm not about to complain about upgrading to shotgun.

Thanks to his condition, we all agreed it'd be better if he didn't wear himself out with the long walk to the tunnel, through the passage, and all the way back again. Instead, his job is a lot shorter—but a lot riskier, too. Fifteen minutes after the rest of us leave, he'll go to Norman's backyard and toss one of the rocks from his garden through his window. We're counting on the vandalism to keep Norman distracted long enough for Renny to sneak by him, go upstairs, and grab the book.

It'll be difficult for all of us to sneak back out, but there's no way one of us is going in there alone. Not when there's still a risk of Joan coming back for another fight. Not to mention, who knows what Norman might have up his sleeve?

"I'll be fine," Watts promises with a smile. "You saw how slow he walked into the community center. Even with my side the way it is, I'll be out of his backyard and halfway back here before he gets anywhere near the window."

Ambrose and I open our doors as Renny leans in to kiss his cheek. "You better."

It's hard to believe she went from telling him off to giving him kisses and compliments in just four weeks, but here we are.

Watts, red-faced, nods to us once we're all out. "See you guys soon, right?"

Ambrose tosses him his keys, which he just barely manages to catch. "In case you need a getaway."

His eyes go wide as he looks down at the keychain in his hands. "Dude. I don't think you want to give that responsibility to a guy who failed his driver's test twice."

Ambrose shrugs. "The thing's beat to hell and back anyway."

"And you won't need a getaway," Renny says. "You'll get out of there before he sees you. Right?"

Watts looks at the keys, and I get the sense that he's almost disappointed he won't need to use them. "Right."

The walk through the woods feels shorter this time, as does the trek through the tunnel. I hate to think I'm getting used to it, and hope this will be the last time any of us has to come here.

We tiptoe up the basement stairs, positioning ourselves at the door to listen for the sound of breaking glass. There's a soft, gravelly voice muffled on the other side of the wood: Norman. He must be on the phone.

The three of us share a look of may as well, and squeeze together so we can each press an ear to the door.

"...Yes. I know, darling. It really won't be long, now."

Ambrose glances at me and raises an eyebrow—we don't have to think very hard about what he might be referring to.

"To think how many years have gone into this... this dawning of a new age. I know it will be worth everything. Even with what Kayla did—"

His sentence stops short at the sound of shattering glass, and he breaks into a series of swears and rhetorical questions. There are footsteps, and his voice travels further from the door—he's walking into the kitchen, no doubt.

"Here goes," Renny whispers, pulling Watts's library card from her pocket. I never would have imagined he would've been the one to teach her how to break and enter, but in the hours leading up to now, it was one of the things we practiced—along with me showing Watts how to throw a powerful pitch. Which by the sounds of it, he caught onto pretty well.

I can make out the sound of Norman's raised voice, which becomes clearer once Ren pops the door open. "—glass everywhere! No, I'll bet it's that damned Jenkins boy from the house across from Millie's. He's been causing trouble since they moved in. I'm sure he's the one who ransacked my study, probably looking for the newspaper delivery fee I told him I'd have on Monday. You can't leave your doors unlocked the way you used to, thanks to kids like that."

So then... he doesn't know what happened with Kayla that day. He doesn't know Joan was the one who caused all the wreckage. If Joan wouldn't inform him of something that intense, apparently he doesn't play as big a role in this as we thought.

The door creaks as we open it, causing the three of us to freeze in place, waiting for any sign that he noticed. My heart hammers in my chest, every limb tense in anticipation.

"I'll call you back. I'm checking the backyard, then calling the police like I should have last time. I've had enough of that brat spoiling the neighborhood."

I analyze every sound—first, the clunk of the phone being set on the counter. Then more footsteps, and finally, a door squeaking open and clicking shut. The house is empty.

Renny springs into action. Now that there's no need to be quiet, she sprints to the stairs and takes them two at a time. Ambrose and I hurry to the bottom, crouching down but keeping the back door in our sights through the wooden railing. 

I can't look away from the handle, expecting it to turn, expecting Norman to step inside and for his eyes to somehow find us.

But Renny is bounding down the stairs before it can happen with the pale, weathered book grasped in one hand. And just like last time, we're rushing out the front door as fast as we can, hurrying down the road towards Ambrose's truck.

As my heart pounds, I try not to let myself get too caught up in the success—we still have a long way to go before any of this is over. But hell, if we managed to pull off this crazy plan, who's to say we can't pull off the next one, too?

Norman kinda stupid ngl 😬