Plague Of The Wise

Chapter 1

"Martha, we don't need to hear about your tungsten bullshit anymore. Please be quiet."

Jack's voice echoed loudly around the bus and Martha whirled to glare at him. He raised his hands in mock surrender as if to say well, it's true. She pointed a finger at him.

"It's not my fault you chose to go into physical education, so don't act like a dumb hockey guy just cause you hate chemistry." Her eyes were dark, her mood bland in contrast to her tone before Jack's statement.

"Well, it's not my fault playing sports is cooler than memorizing a table you can't even eat off of," he shot back. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh at the absurd statement.

Martha scoffed in disgust and turned back around. I hunkered down in my seat because everyone else around her, including me, knew just how easy her anger could be diverted toward someone else. I stared across the aisle at Audrey and rolled my eyes.

She giggled quietly and pulled an object I was familiar with from her bag: a Watson University pamphlet.

Watson University. The most prestigious university in the entire world. The community built for future world-class students who would change the world. Among the thousands of students that were recommended each year, only a couple hundred made it in.

Oh, and did I mention it was the university where all ten students currently on the bus, including me, were attending next year?

I watched Audrey leaf through the pamphlet, watched her eyes follow the flow of words and her lips move to form them. She curled her legs up and placed them against the seat in front of her, propping her body up as she continued to read. Her hair was drawn into a messy bun atop her head, and a pencil was stuck through it.

I smiled watching her, not believing that she was my friend. Audrey Franklin, the astrophysics prodigy and already pegged Nobel Prize winner was one of my best friends. She caught me zoning out and laughed. Martha whirled around as if sensing a target for her anger.

She was met with a stare from the seat behind me. David Freud gave her a death stare, his gaze fixed on his book in front of him, his anger stronger and more intense than hers. Under the poison of his vicious look she sank back into her seat, her intensity and ferociousness seeped from her demeanor.

I ran my thumb along my lower lip, feeling the dryness. I could never figure out David. He was always just there, just outside of the conversation, never in it, never out of it. Occasionally he would add input. And from what I could tell, he didn't have any close friends but Martha, and they were constantly getting on each other's nerves.

I caught David staring at me, the glare lightening as he watched my unconscious motion of rubbing my lip. I became very self-conscious and turned away. I felt his eyes follow me. His starting, look-into-your-soul eyes.

"Hey, Ethan," came a voice from in front of me. At first it sounded like David, and my heart lurched, but I realized it was just Wilfred. He was peeking over the front of the seat, his small stature comical. "What are we supposed to look for on this hike again?" he asked, his eyebrows quizzical.

I raised my eyebrows. "Dude, you're the most recommended student for Watson to become a brain surgeon, can you not listen to anything Mr. Warren says?"

"Nope," Wilfred said. "So what are we looking for?"

"We're not looking for anything," I shot back. "If you would have been listening, this hike is simply for our luxury. We're going to Watson, we get special privileges."

"Like taking an hour-long hike in the middle of October down to a creek?"

"Exactly,"

"Sounds fishy," he said. "And not because there's fish in the creek." He cocked his head. "Wait, is there?"