The door to the Morgue clanged open. Norwood stood in its frame for a beat, then swaggered toward the fountain. He climbed up next to Heloise and opened his arms to the citizens.
“The events of last night were tragic, horrific, and, above all, avoidable,” he boomed. “With the proper precautions in place, we could have caught Zara and stopped her from perpetrating this unnecessary attack, this heartbreaking loss of life. Sadly, we cannot turn back the clock—but what we can do is prevent it from ever happening again.”
Heloise faced Uncle Mort. “Will you join us up here, Mort?”
“No,” he calmly replied, just loud enough for them to hear. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can yell it from there. It’s never stopped you before.”
Heloise bristled and began to protest, but Norwood held up his hand. “Very well,” she said in a prickly voice. “Go on, darling.”
Norwood drew a deep breath. “I propose a recall election. Vote here and now on whether the citizens of Croak believe that you are fit to continue governing this town, or if a suitable replacement should be installed as mayor, in which case I humbly submit my name for approval.”
A few people, mostly the Juniors, cried out in protest, but Norwood ignored them. “Mort?” he said. “Sound fair?”
“Not really.” Uncle Mort did not show any emotion other than that of mild amusement. “But by all means, proceed with your little election.”
As Norwood and Heloise quietly conferred with each other, the Juniors rushed up to Uncle Mort. “Norwood really gets off on this voting thing, huh?” said Ferbus.
“Can he do this?” an angry Driggs asked Uncle Mort. “Legally?”
“Yes,” said Uncle Mort. “Though it hasn’t been done in decades.”
Lex was seething too. “You mean he doesn’t even need presidential approval?”
“No. By the people, for the people, or something like that. The president of the Grimsphere will accept whatever the citizens decide.”
“Even if the citizens are idiots?” Lex shouted, but Norwood was speaking again.
“No need for a secret ballot,” he said, quietly adding, “I think we’re all of the same mind here anyway.” He raised his chin and spoke in a clear, ringing voice. “All those in favor of removing Mort from the office of mayor and henceforth installing me as his replacement, please raise your hands.”
A sea of hands shot up into the air with no hesitation. A clear majority, even with those absent due to injuries.
“Well, that’s that,” Norwood said with a simple smile. “From this day forth, Mort, you are relieved of your position as mayor, as well as that office’s rights and responsibilities. Immediately following this meeting, Snodgrass and Lazlo will escort you to your home to retrieve all pertinent items and information. You will immediately surrender all privileges, confidential information, and security clearances to myself and Heloise, and you will be stripped of all authority over any citizens or groups of citizens in Croak.” He smiled. “Including the Juniors.”
Uncle Mort’s eyes were hard. “And if I refuse?”
“You’ll be dealt with accordingly.”
Snodgrass and Lazlo stepped up next to Norwood and cracked their knuckles.
Uncle Mort let out a snort as he pushed himself off the wall. “Hired goons?” he said as he walked through the square. “Someone’s been studying up on their Mob movies.”
Norwood kept addressing the crowd. “Heloise will be my second-in-command. You will treat us both with the respect that the office demands and come straight to us with any problems, questions, or reports of dissent.”
“Reports of dissent, huh?” Uncle Mort said wryly. “That’s confidence, right there.”
“Shut your smart-ass mouth, Mort!” a man toward the front butted in. “My partner is dead, all because your security system turned out to be worthless. We’ve given you second chance after second chance, and now we’re paying for our stupidity. So I’d knock off the sarcasm if I were you.”
The Juniors started to jump to Uncle Mort’s defense, but Pandora outyelled them all. “This is pure codswallop!” She marched toward the fountain, her hands balled into fists. “Mort’s a phenomenal mayor! We can’t blame him for the fact that we’re being terrorized by a sociopath! It’s not his fault!”
No, Lex thought, her chest tightening. It’s mine.
“A Junior sociopath,” Heloise gently reminded her. “And we all know who encouraged that sort of free thinking in the first place.”
“If it weren’t for Juniors, half of you would be dead!” Ferbus shouted. “Pip and Bang dismantled that second bomb!”
“Rumors,” said Heloise, brushing her hand through the air. “No one saw that but you kids—”
“It’s true!” Pandora screeched.
“—and a couple of feeble-minded geezers,” Heloise sneered back at her. “How are we to believe a word any of you say?”
“You saw it!” Driggs shouted.
Heloise clucked her tongue. “I saw nothing.”
“I saw it!” Pandora was livid. “What’s wrong with you people? You’re really going to hand our town over to these slimeball creeps?”
Uncle Mort spoke at last. “Calm down, Dora. Better to go quietly, I think. Don’t want to ruffle anyone’s nose hairs.” He offered Norwood and Heloise a little salute. “Godspeed, you two. I’ll hand over whatever you need, and I’ll be happy to assist with the transition in any way I can.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Norwood with a gigantic smile. “We’ve got everything under control. Heloise will be taking over as head of security, so your services in that capacity will no longer be needed. You may, however, go back to your previous position as a Killer, if you so choose.”
“Oh, I so do,” he said. “Targets will be a nice change from the stiffs I currently work with.”
Norwood ignored this and turned back to the crowd. “Now, for a few new ground rules. A curfew will be in effect, starting tonight. No one may be out of their house after ten, not even to indulge in inebriations.”
Corpp let out a sigh. “There goes the business. Again.”
“Second,” Norwood continued, “Croak is now officially on lockdown. No leaving the town for any reason, except for your shifts. Cancel any vacation plans you may have made, including those for the upcoming holidays. If you absolutely need to leave, come to us and we will discuss the possibility.”
“Discuss, meaning refuse,” said Dora.
“Third, there are to be no more visits to the Afterlife for anyone, with the exception of those whose positions allow.” He looked at the Juniors, then at Wicket. “This rule has been disregarded in the past, but will be enforced with the utmost rigidity from now on. No entry whatsoever.”
Wicket looked at Lex and gave her a helpless shrug.
“And fourth, and most important, is the method by which we will be enforcing these new rules,” said Norwood, a vicious look in his eye. “Mort will hand over the Cuff tracker he’s developed, and starting tonight, each and every one of your locations will be tracked until further notice.”
The crowd, which until this point had been relatively accepting of the new changes, broke into a chorus of complaints. Uncle Mort simply shook his head.
“That way,” Norwood continued over them, “we will know where you are at all times. If Zara enters the town limits again, she will register in the security system as an unauthorized intruder and will be that much easier to catch as long as everyone else is already being monitored.”
“Unreal,” Driggs said.
“Needless to say, the wearing of Cuffs is now mandatory,” Norwood went on. “Immediately following this meeting, you will form two lines, and Heloise and I will lock your Cuffs in place. Keep in mind that Cuffs are tamper-resistant once locked, and anyone caught attempting to remove theirs will be punished severely, as will anyone who tries to leave the Croak city limits without authorization.”
“So now Croak is a prison,” said Lex through
gritted teeth, wishing she hadn’t just discharged, wanting to feel the heat surging through her hands.
Norwood was making a sympathetic, calming gesture. “I know this may seem harsh now, but trust me,” he said with a smile. “This is for the good of the town. I promise.”
Some townspeople still didn’t look happy about this latest development, but the more Norwood talked, the more they seemed to accept it. As long as it was for the good of the town.
“That will be all for today,” Heloise offered as a conclusion. “Thank you for your confidence and support. We promise to do whatever we can to keep you safe, capture Zara, and return Croak to its once-peaceful state.” She turned to Snodgrass and Lazlo and gave them a nod. They nodded back and began to prod Uncle Mort down the street in the direction of his house.
“Oh, and one more thing,” said Norwood, loud enough for Uncle Mort to hear. “From this point forward, all Junior Grims are indefinitely suspended from their positions.”
Lex’s stomach sank.
“What?” Driggs yelled first, with Lex, Ferbus, Dora, and Corpp joining in at a frightening crescendo. The Seniors looked at the shouting Juniors as if they were feral animals, as if here was the evidence that these uncontrollable hooligans should have been exiled years ago.
Hot tears came to Lex’s face as she yelled, even though she tried to blink them back. Killing was the one thing she had been put on this earth to do—what was she if she couldn’t do it anymore?
Norwood smiled at the Juniors and continued talking over them. “No shifts, no scything, no Killing, no Culling. Juniors shall instead attend to duties that either Heloise or I assign to them, the types of duties that more accurately befit those in subordinate positions.”
Uncle Mort broke free of his escorts and ran back to the fountain. “You son of a bitch!” he yelled at Norwood. The measured calmness was gone; Lex had never seen him so mad. The entire crowd—even the Juniors—fell silent. “You don’t have the authority to do that, and you know it!”
“It would seem I just gave myself the authority,” Norwood answered. “You really think the president would object?”
Uncle Mort didn’t answer that. “The Field is the safest place for the Juniors to be,” he replied instead, practically growling. “The random transmitting nature of the ether makes it harder for Zara to find them. Forcing them to remain in Croak all day is too dangerous!”
“That is a risk we are willing to take,” Heloise said, narrowing her eyes at him. “The vast majority of our recent problems can be traced back to the Juniors. They simply can’t be trusted. We’d like to keep a close eye on them in the hopes of avoiding any further . . . incidents.”
Satisfied with her explanation, she gave her hands a clap. “Now! Everyone line up so we can get those Cuffs locked.”
The people started to form themselves into lines while Uncle Mort just stood there, looking defeated.
Then he pulled something from his pocket.
Norwood stopped directing people and studied him. “What are you doing?”
“I said I’d go quietly,” Uncle Mort said, holding up a handful of Amnesia smoke bombs and smirking up at Norwood. “I never said I’d make it easy for you.”
The square instantly burst into a cloud of mist and chaos. Though the townspeople were immune to the Amnesia, the smoke was thick enough to blind them, and blind them it did. Furious, Norwood and Heloise jumped off the ledge and waved their arms around, trying to see through the fog.
“Dora!” Heloise yelled above the roars. “Where’s the fire extinguisher?”
Pandora slapped on the most innocent face she could muster. “Well, gee, Heloise, I don’t think my feeble-minded brain can remember.”
Heloise clenched her fists and turned to Snodgrass and Lazlo, wherever they were. “Find it!” Seething, she and Norwood groped for Uncle Mort—but he’d already disappeared into the fleeing crowd.
Lex felt a strong hand grab her shoulder. “Gather up the other Juniors as fast as you can,” Uncle Mort said. “I’ll meet you all back at the house. Go.”
Lex passed the message on to Ferbus and Elysia, who took off for the Crypt to get Pip and Bang. Lex and Driggs stayed behind to search for Sofi, ultimately finding her with several others inside Corpp’s, coughing.
Driggs sidled up next to her and tried not to look too conspicuous. “Come with us.”
“What?” she said with a hack. “Why?”
“Mort wants to see all the Juniors.”
“Right now? Are you wackadoodle?”
Lex jumped in. “Sofi, come on.”
“No way. I don’t want to do whatever it is Mort has planned, or miss getting my Cuff locked. Some people around here actually get in trouble when they do something wrong,” she said, giving Lex a look.
“So you’re just going to blindly obey Norwood like all these other lackeys?”
“No,” Sofi insisted. “Norwood’s a jerkface. I’m not his lackey.”
“Then aren’t you angry?” said Driggs. “You’re a Junior—he put you out of work too!”
Sofi still looked hesitant. “I just don’t want to get kicked out.”
“Forget it,” Lex said, pulling Driggs away. “She’s not coming. Let’s go.”
Driggs shrugged her off. “Sofi, please. Come with us.”
“Driggs!” Lex shouted, exasperated. The bar was filling up; soon they wouldn’t be able to sneak out without everyone seeing them. “Let’s go!”
Watching Lex, a flash of anger shot across Sofi’s face. She grabbed Driggs’s arm. “Don’t listen to her, Driggs,” she said. “She doesn’t deserve you. She’s crazypants, she’s only going to get you exiled. Besides, Norwood’s going to find you anyway. Just do what he says and you won’t get in trouble!”
Driggs looked at her for a second, then shook his head and pulled away.
“Driggs!” Sofi shrieked.
He ignored her and kept walking toward the back of the bar. He and Lex snuck into the alley, hurried straight past the dead bodies without looking, and flat-out sprinted back to the house. Ferbus, Elysia, Pip, and Bang were inside, waiting for them, all out of breath from running and looking very worried. Uncle Mort stood next to the jellyfish tank.
“Sofi’s not coming,” Driggs told him, panting. “Too scared of getting in trouble.” He watched as Uncle Mort pulled on a pair of heavy work gloves. “What’s going on?”
Uncle Mort swallowed. He looked hesitant to speak. Finally, he sighed. “I thought they’d have their little fun, play at being mayor, maybe make up a rule or two, and that’s it. But with the bombs, and now the suspension of you kids, I—” He chewed at his lips. “The truth is, I can no longer guarantee your safety.”
The Juniors exchanged nervous glances.
“What I can do,” he continued, “is give you a chance to escape. Not today—Norwood’ll be here any second, and we won’t have enough time to put a plan together. But at least this way we can be ready when things go from bad to worse. And I promise you, they will.” He took a step toward the tank. “Now, I don’t expect you to be experts right off the bat—it’s something you’ll have to practice. But it worked for Zara, and Lex should be able to give you some pointers along the way.”
“Pointers for what?” Pip asked, taking Bang’s hand. Their eyes were huge. “What are you doing?”
The older Juniors sat with their mouths open as Uncle Mort reached into his pocket and pulled out a white scroll woven from spider silk, its surface dotted with instructional diagrams.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Ferbus.
Lex’s brain snapped. “This—that’s impossible,” she stuttered. “There aren’t any Loopholes left. Zara found the last one!”
Uncle Mort smirked and held the Loophole over the tank. “Then it’s a good thing I found the second-to-last.”
He dropped it in. The water instantly began to bubble and fizz. Before long, it had turned into a churning cauldron, its contents shuddering, splashing water t
o the floor.
“Roll up your sleeves,” Uncle Mort instructed. “And line up. We don’t have much time.”
Driggs stepped in close and spoke in a low voice. “Mort. Are you seriously giving us the ability to Crash?”
Uncle Mort’s face was somber. “Might want to grab a pillow to yell into,” he said, firmly grasping Driggs’s arm and guiding it toward the water. “These sting like hell.”
12
Three weeks later Lex found herself poised at the door of the Bank, out way past curfew, tracked both by cameras and by the CuffLink, and ready to storm the lobby in a most unauthorized fashion.
There was no point in being coy. She held her head high, turned the knob, and walked through the door.
***
Despite its eventual excitement, that evening had started out much the same as all evenings had in the weeks since the attack: über-lamely.
Life in Croak had become intolerable. Minutes after Uncle Mort had stung the Juniors with the Loophole-infused jellyfish venom, Norwood and Heloise had burst into the living room, locked all their Cuffs, and confiscated Uncle Mort’s CuffLink, which meant that all the Juniors’ movements—and Uncle Mort’s—were now being painstakingly tracked. This left them with no way to practice or even learn how to use their new abilities, as Crashing from one location to another—even if it was only a few feet away, to the other side of a room—would set off all sorts of alarm bells, bringing Norwood and Heloise down on them faster than anyone wanted to imagine.
Morale was at an all-time low. Efforts to decode the obelisk’s symbols had gotten nowhere. Norwood had made good on his promise to relegate the Juniors to the most menial tasks his malicious mind could think up: fetching coffee for the Etceteras, cleaning the windows of the Bank, raking leaves, and, as fall turned into winter, shoveling snow. They didn’t get paid anymore, as “real interns work for free,” Heloise often chimed. And even if they had received any compensation, there was nothing to spend it on: the curfew meant no Corpp’s, and no Corpp’s meant no way to drown their sorrows in the sweet bliss of Yoricks.