Chapter Twenty-One Time to Get to the Root Cellar of the Problem
What is he doing out here?
And what could it possibly have to do with Jude? They hate each other. I saw proof of that in class yesterday. And yet they’re both out here in the middle of this storm doing God knows what… It makes no sense.
Something definitely isn’t right here—and while I’m the first to acknowledge that can be said for all manner of things at Calder Academy, there’s something about this that really freaks me out.
Curiosity—and more than a little worry—is burning inside me as I take off running toward Jean-Luc, no longer caring if he or Jude see me. Something very not okay is going on out here, and I may be pissed off at Jude, but I still have trouble believing he’s somehow mixed up with the Jean-Jerks.
I watch as Jean-Luc disappears inside the root cellar. The thought of him in there with Jude has me sprinting toward it—or as close to sprinting as I can get over the slick, rocky ground. As I run through the low bushes and weeds, sand gives way to mud that sucks at my shoes and makes it impossible for me to move quickly.
But Jean-Luc is long gone—and the root cellar doors closed behind him—before I even make it to the structure.
A frisson of unease skitters down my arms, has goose bumps rising all over my body. Nothing about this place feels like it used to—nothing about it feels right—and every cell in my body is suddenly screaming at me not to touch anything.
To back away.
To run away.
But what if Jude isn’t involved? What if he’s in some kind of trouble? If he’s in there, I can’t just leave him, can I? I don’t know a lot about what got the Jean-Jerks sent to Calder Academy—there are a million stories circulating, most of which I’m pretty sure were started by them—but I do know who they are.
Or, more specifically, who their parents are—major players in the biggest underground criminal organization in our world. And while that doesn’t stop me from standing up to them when I need to, it does stop me from ever turning my back on them. And Jude may have done just that.
Whatever may be going on here, fear and truth are suddenly propelling me forward.
To hell with the trepidation currently sweeping through every part of me. Instead, I throw open the doors and plunge straight down the long, decrepit staircase into the dark to try and figure out exactly what’s happening here.