Academic Assassins by Clay McLeod Chapman Page A

the set of double doors and started to count down under her breath:
    Three…
    Two…
    One.
    The loud metallic rattle of a school bell overwhelmed the ward.
    â€œâ€¦That bell,” Buttercup shouted over the clamor, “it’s time for headcount.”
    The Plexiglas panels slid back simultaneously, releasing the ants. The bell cut off as abruptly as it had started. Even after it had stopped, the dull pulse of its ring throbbed through my
ears.
    Then I heard it.
    â€œFresh meat, fresh meat, fresh meat…”
    The catcalls started with a single voice ominously intoning over my head. But as more green-uniformed ants crawled out from their pods to get a good look at the newbies, the mantra gained
momentum—
“Fresh meat, fresh meat, fresh meat…”
    All were wearing dog collars.
    Babyface and I were suddenly surrounded by a crew of oranguteens. Some sniffed us. Grabbed at us. Even scavenged through our uniforms.
    â€œWhatchou got?” a scrawny ant asked. “Got any bubble gum for me?”
    â€œHow about a cigarette?” another pleaded. “Just one cigarette?”
    â€œWhat about some lighter fluid, man? Got any razor blades on you?”
    The ants picked Babyface up from the floor and flipped him upside down, shaking him by his feet to see if anything worth snatching fell out from his pockets.
    â€œPut me down!” Babyface shouted. “Let go of me!”
    Suddenly the ants were all talking overtop each other, demanding—
    â€œI know you got a candy bar on you, don’t you?”
    â€œWhat about some breath mints?”
    â€œYou holding any matches?”
    â€œTell me you’ve got a pen.”
    â€œA paper clip?”
    â€œYou got a knife? I know you’ve got a knife….”
    The horde tightened around us. Swallowed us. Reaching. Grabbing. Yanking.
    We were trapped.
    The chorus echoed through the ward—
“Fresh meat. Fresh meat. Fresh meat…”
    Grayson kept his distance, leaning against the gallery wall beside Buttercup and watching on. “See the hungry look in their eyes?” he shouted. “You smell like the outside to
them.”
    Outside
.
    The life we used to have before getting locked up. These ants were willing to suck the marrow from our bones, for just one last hint of the outside world.
    This place is beyond bonkers, I thought to myself. I’ve got to get out of here before these ants eat me alive.
    There
. Just off to the side of the gallery. The doors we had entered through were still open. I could duck under the cover of frantic ants, make my way through the door before Grayson
could stop me.
    I turned to Babyface, engulfed by the swarm of ants. Too late to save him.
    â€œFresh meat…”
    No time to waste.
    â€œFresh meat…”
    Time to run.
    â€œFresh meat…”
    I took a deep breath as if about to plunge underwater and sank into the scrabbling ants, vanishing within the mass of grabbing hands.
    Now you see me, now you don’t.
    I crawled across the floor on my hands and knees as far as the crowd covered me. Once they thinned out, I still had about ten steps between me and the exit.
    No time to hesitate. I picked myself up and dashed for the doors.
    â€œRunner!” The call came from over my shoulder. Grayson was racing after me, keys rattling at his hip. “We’ve got a runner!”
    The low-pitched buzz of the door droned through the air as it began to close on its own. I had about three seconds to slip through before it sealed shut.
    Three—
    Almost there.
    Two—
    Not gonna make it.
    One—
    Jump!
    I executed a swift swan dive. My ankle banged against the doors just before they closed, sending the rest of myself into a tailspin across the outer hallway floor.
    Grayson’s shoulder slammed against the other side of the door. He pounded his palm on the window, his muffled voice seeping through—“Open the door!”
    I