Principal Pirulo, head of Lightcrown Memorial High School, struggled to keep up with Timaria Burr’s brisk pace, confident as she traveled down the halls. An aide trailed behind, allowing her the floor to speak with the flustered principal. Pirulo’s mouth made several half-attempts at noise before finally choosing words.

  “Miss Burr, we can’t ask you to deal with this classroom, I’m sure you have much more important matters to deal with. The We Will Rebuild campaign can’t organize itself.”

  “A good leader delegates.”

  “Sure, but these kids… They aren’t just in need of any teacher. The ones we’ve tried all leave in such disarray.”

  “I’ll have help,” Timaria tilted her head slightly to her aide.

  “But… But…”

  Timaria approached the door to the classroom, just as Pirulo dashed in front and placed himself in the way, arms splayed. Timaria waited passively, but her eyes burned into his skull. Breaking eye contact, he cleared his throat.

  “They’re Awakened. The kids, I mean. I refuse to place you in danger. They’re untenable. High schoolers at their worst.”

  Burr smiled placatingly. “They’re our future. The same future I promise when I speak about We Will Rebuild and my mayoral plans.”

  “Maybe others, but not them.”

  “Definitely them. Just give me the opportunity.”

  Pirulo looked over his shoulder through the window to the classroom, sweat dotting his neck. Lips curved nervously, he looked back to Burr, questions filling his eyes.

  “May I ask why?”

  “Don’t you find it interesting that they’re in there? Children who have run off their teachers are there for two reasons, can you tell them to me?”

  “Their parents,” Pirulo said immediately.

  “And the other reason?”

  Pirulo looked away in thought. “Truancy laws?”

  “The challenge.” Timaria said, looking over his shoulder into the room with an even gaze. “They’ve scared out teachers before. They’re certain they can do it again. And if they fail, they know they’ll have to fall in line, so they’ll push that much harder.”

  “I don’t want the kids pushing against you, Miss Burr. Already you’ve done this school such a service with your free repairs and donated textbooks and desks. I can’t ask you to deal with our worst.”

  “You’re not asking me. I’m telling you.”

  Timaria flicked her head to the right and Pirulo reluctantly slid off the door almost like the move was rehearsed. Timaria opened the door, allowing her aid to enter the chorus and screams of the students within. Then, Timaria entered herself, hearing one last utterance of protest from Pirulo. The door slammed behind her before a full sentence could get out.

  The slam also brought the noise to a halt, the room turning to her. Without addressing them, Timaria slid across the room, her steps loud in tall heels and she hovered over the vandalized teacher’s desk at the front of the room. Next to the seating chart was a single note from who she presumed was the previous instructor:

  Good luck :(

  Timaria scoffed, glancing up at her onlookers. The room was chaos, none of the seats turned directly toward her, trash all over the place, and desks scratched with messages and teenage graffiti. Tension built until one of the front row students spoke, releasing the floodgates for the others to follow.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Are you gonna teach us?”

  “Why do you look so weird?”

  Emotions controlled, Timaria’s eyes slid from students to the seating chart to get their names. With a moment of scrutiny, she found that it was a fake sheet, all names were “Fart,” “Stinky” and others of a more lewd nature. Somewhat impressed by them printing out a new sheet just for the prank, Timaria gently moved her attention back to the audience.

  “Are you too dumb to talk?” the front row student asked.

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  “If I can get your names, we can begin a very productive morning.”

  “No, that sounds lame.”

  Snickers filled the audience, giving Timaria a target. Their unofficial leader needed to be made an example for the others to fall in line. Without a word, she picked up a piece of chalk and wrote her name on the wall.

  “Timaria? You must have been bullied a lot,” the same student spoke.

  “You will speak when spoken to.” Timaria said evenly, turning to her aide and nodding.

  The student opened his mouth, with snark on his lips, but no noise came out. Blinking in confusion, he moved his tongue again, without a sound. Eyes strewn close together, he grasped his mouth tightly.

  “I may not have been clear. ‘You will speak when spoken to’ means you can’t speak otherwise. Don’t bother trying.” Again Timaria nodded to her aide, this time looking grateful.

  Her audience of gigglers shifted to murmurers, all eyes falling on her aide standing next to the door. Their classmate had been Muted. And just as Timaria wanted it, they believed her aide was the one causing it.

  In reality, she could Mute at will. Two powers, one a mental block on someone’s speech and the other the ability to silent inanimate items. So while the student pounded away at his desk, no noise would come out. It was good to obfuscate her ability to Mute to avoid too much scrutiny when using it in the wild. Who knows what could have happened if HUE was aware that she Muted a conversation about the Antiserum at the fundraiser?

  “I intended to instruct you all on the topic of lumber mills, given that’s my bread and butter, and the employer of many in the town, but you seem distracted. Is there another topic you had in mind?”

  The heckler suddenly gasped loudly, the classroom startling at the sudden sound reappearing from him. He turned to Timaria’s aide, then back to her.

  “That wasn’t funny.” Holding a fist up, a blue ball of flame sprouted atop it.

  Timaria frowned, completely unphased by the threat. “If you don’t have any good topics, then don’t waste your breath. What was your name again?”

  The student threw the fireball at her shoulder. She appreciated that he at least wasn’t trying to kill her with flame to the face. Eyes descending in annoyance, the flame dissipated inches from her frame. Confused, the student threw two more attacks in succession, each stopping just ahead of her and dying without leaving a scratch. This time, the students looked at her in awe, but it was more misdirection. Her aide had placed a Shield around her, but it looked as though she stopped things by her own doing. She Muted the child and turned to his neighbor.

  “His name?”

  “Robert!” she said immediately. “And I’m Isabel! I’m not a villain! I’m also not Awakened!”

  “We need not be reductive. Everyone is a hero in their own story. Even Robert. Can anyone tell me why he might be motivated to hurt me even if he believes himself the hero?”

  Robert shouted silently, his face going red, then lowering in confusion. Slamming against his desk hard enough to shift it, he yelled when it made no sound. Then, standing abruptly, he flipped it all the way over. The classroom leaned in to look as it made no sound. Timaria knew it was unsettling to be rendered Mute suddenly, and it would stop him from any outburst while grappling with the warped reality. Enough time for a lesson.

  “Come on! Anyone? Motivations! There’s no right answer on this one.”

  “He thinks you’re a bad guy?” A response from the back.

  “Excellent!” Timaria pointed to him. “That would be great motivation. But I am not stereotypically evil, what else could it be?”

  The rest of the students warmed up to her receptiveness to the first answer, sitting up a little straighter or giving her a bit more attention.

  “He doesn’t like…” the girl next to him stopped suddenly, embarrassed.

  “Don’t stop now,” Timaria said, trying to be encouraging, but coming off demanding.

  “He doesn’t like the way you look? Too much denim?”

  As always, Timaria wore her jeans and denim jacket, always one to look like a common worker at the lumber yard.

  “Another great answer. Some people really are so shallow as to target you for none other than the way you look and dress. Any others?”

  Slowly, and trembling, Robert raised a hand.

  “Yes?” Timaria unmuted him.

  “You’re ruining his day.”

  “Fantastic! That might be the most accurate motivation so far.”

  Her comment elicited a light laugh from the tense crowd. But Robert looked incensed, possibly preparing a form of revenge. Timaria stepped up to him, kicking his desk back up and placing it over him.

  “Let’s call a truce, hmm?”

  Robert’s fist clenched, his face directed away from her.

  “Look, it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Attack me and you’re rendered Mute. And I know you think you can fight your way out with your special powers, but you’d be rendered Mute forever. No sound no matter what you try. Both you and the objects you interact with. Carries on after death of the user of the power too. Just endless Mute.”

  Mostly a bluff, obviously, when she wouldn’t know what happened after death. But the mortification on his widened eyes after having experienced the silence for a few minutes was enough for her to step away, confident of the battle over. Taking time to step behind her desk and allow the room to readjust to the new head of the classroom, she breathed in smoothly. Smiling lightly, she saw a raised hand in the center of the room.

  “Can you teach us more about motivations? And hero stuff?”

  “That depends. Is the entire class eager to learn now?”

  Nods filled the room.

  “Tidy up this place and we can begin. Straighten your desks, clean up some of that litter and we’ll begin with the Hero Unification Entity and its short history.”

  As the desks scraped and excited students gathered days’ worth of trash, Timaria gave a small look toward the door to the classroom. Eyes wide and face pressed against the glass, Principal Pirulo watched in amazement as the students organized themselves to learn. Another vote secured.

  Controlling a classroom was child’s play. She couldn’t wait to enact plans once she had control of the Awakened city.

  The Hero Unification - The Silent Scream

  Book 02 - Lumbering Around on February 2nd.

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