London's School for Wanted Children - Caleb Baker (motivational novels for students .txt) 📗

on sale for a long time Alfred thought. They looked shabby, and worn, like they hadn't been used for years. A musty, danky smell ran under Alfred's nose. And then he saw it. A lid covering to a sewer was askew, anyone else would have thought this normal, but because Alfred lived with a detective everyday he knew not to jump to normalcy, but to expect the unexpected.
He moved toward the sewer and saw that it was more than askew, but thrown to the side. He looked inside and saw that there was a ledge wide enough to walk comfortably without falling into sewage.
Knowing he was going to regret the smell later he jumped in. The coattails of his father's old trench coat landing last. The ledge was slippery, there seemed to be a film of dirty sewage on the top as well as the bottom of his shoes. Wishing he had a flashlight he made a movement to go deeper into the sewer system. He was approaching a right hand turn when he started to hear voices. They were a little farther ahead than he was. Alfred didn't feel scared at all, on the contrary he felt adventurous, almost like he wanted to get caught. Despite his sudden feelings he kept behind the voices, careful not to be found.
"So what did you see out there?" a deep cool voice said.
"Nothing, just a man snooping around, he has no idea, just like the others. Oh, but his assistant might have seen me." another voice said, this one more relaxed.
"You were seen?" the deep voice became louder, deeper.
"Relax, he probably just thought I was a bird or something..."
"I swear, you are the worst student, I'm surprised Scarecrow hasn't kicked you out yet, especially after your latest blunder." the deep voice went back to being cool, but a little snide.
"Your just mad." the other voice said, then laughed.
What were these two talking about? Perhaps about the heist? Had Alfred just found the culprits?
"When is Scarecrow coming back anyway?"
There was that word again. What did it mean, was it a code name? If so, what for? Alfred was falling dangerously behind while trying to deduce what was happening. He walked a little faster so as to try and catch up.
"Hey, what was that?" the deep voice said.
Alfred could tell they both came to a halt and stopped himself, behind a corner. His heart was beating faster now, he was silently taking back his former feelings about being caught.
"Perhaps the assistant you spoke of." the voice said again.
"I told you, he didn't know I was a person, just a bird."
"Hmmm... I think you're right. Let's go."
He heard more footsteps which must have meant they were on the move again, so Alfred silently crept out from his hiding spot, and turned around the corner. There was a loud "whack" noise and Alfred felt himself hit the floor of the sewer tunnel.
He woke up still on the sewer floor. From where he was positioned he could see two pairs of feet. He tried getting up and felt a shoe stand on his back repelling him back to the ground. He heard words that he couldn't make out, and looked up to see two shrouded figures. The one with his foot on his back spoke first.
"How did you find us?" his voice was deep, his words still sounded muffled but Alfred could make them out this time.
"Well, answer him," another voice said more forcefully than the last.
The figures were shrouded in black cloaks, with shawls over their faces. One of the figures was very tall while the other looked as tall as himself.
"I don't know what you mean..." Alfred said unsure that this answer would suffice.
"Don't play stupid, you followed us," the smaller of the two said.
There was a pause, no one said anything, the taller figure whispered something to his companion and in a split second Alfred was brought to his feet. Standing he could now clearly see the situation. He was outnumbered two to one, and there didn't seem to be any way out of this. The end of the sewer system was nowhere to be found.
"You're coming with us," the one closest to him said.
"Where?" Alfred asked dumbly.
"Shut up!"
And with that he was dragged off, deeper into the sewer. The smell of the place was getting worse the farther they walked. The ledge they were following was now concrete, but it still harbored a great amount of sewage film upon it. Alfred's mother would never allow him to walk in his house again. No one spoke, the two figures kept exchanging glances and nods with each other and they were constantly looking back at Alfred, who followed. He wondered what they would do if he turned around and tried to escape, tried to return to his father and tell him about the figures in the sewer. He wouldn't believe him anyways.
The smell vanished, their was no longer rotting fumes wafting under his nose. The concrete floor didn't have any dirt on it anymore either. The sewer led them into a clearing where stood a giant door that went from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. In the middle of it was placed a valve, which Alfred guessed opened it. The taller figure grabbed hold of the valve and began turning it, creaking noises erupting every time he gave it a good spin. He must have spun it to its extent for he looked at the door and found a bar. He pushed hard on the bar and the door slowly opened, scraping against the concrete and making a horrible screeching noise. The smaller cloaked person pushed Alfred through the doorway and into a blackened room.
Nothing could be seen in the room. Alfred extended his arms trying to grope or feel around for something in front of him. His eyes were now becoming accumstumed to the darkness, but even that didn't help. He couldn't even see his feet, or his own hand in front of his face. And then he screamed. What felt like a fist, drove hard into his stomach, causing him to double over. He now stood on his knees, clutching his belly, as though that would make the pain stop. A hand wrapped around the back of his father's trench coat and brought his head up.
As though a blindfold had been lifted from his face the room became visible. Lights on the ceiling were now shining bright, hurting his eyes, making them water. The room had many pillars giving the effect that it was large, it had many drapes with symbols on them that Alfred couldn't quite make out. Many other cloaked figures stood in his wake as well as in front of him, they were circled wide around him. He doubled over again, still clutching his front. The hand on his collar swiftly took the back of his head grabbing a handful of hair, and brought his head up once more, making Alfred howl with pain again. Something stirred in front of him. A man sat in a chair at the top of a set of carpeted stairs. He sat with one leg crossed over the other, his hand loosely on his chin and a sinister smile upon his face. His hair was clean, long, and dark gray. With a flick of his hand the person abusing Alfred released his grip. A deep sigh of relief escaped Alfred, and he tried to stand up. Another flick of the man in the chair's hand and Alfred was kicked back to his knees by the person standing behind him.
"I want you on your knees before I kill you," the man in the chair said.
Alfred couldn't respond, he couldn't find the words, he was scared and in shock. This man was going to kill him?
"Sir," another voice said from behind him and his aggressor, "perhaps we shouldn't kill him, Scarecrow wouldn't want another death on these grounds," it was girl's voice, it spoke calmly and smoothly.
"Are you suggesting that we let him go? So that he can run back to the city and give away our location? Do you think Scarecrow would want that?" the man at the top of the staircase left his chair.
"No, sir," her voice did not falter, "I only suggest, we don't kill him. We should find something else for him."
"You suggest what, then?"
She did not answer him, another smile crossed the man's face and he sat back down.
"Perhaps... Scarecrow himself should decide his fate," the girl said as the man took his seat.
His smile was gone, and his hand swung to his chin, giving the impression he was thinking.
"Why give him to Scarecrow, when I can just kill him myself, and be done with this?" he said after a moment.
"You wouldn't," the girl said quickly, her voice rising, "we all know you never would."
"You dare test me!" the man said at once, standing up and walking down the stairs.
The girl walked in front of Alfred, meeting the man halfway and matching his fiery eyes. They stood for a minute locked at the eyes, neither one making a move.
A door to Alfred's far left opened, and a man cloaked in red came striding into the room, followed by a dark haired girl. He strode into the middle of the circle and looked first at the two having a staring contest and then to helpless Alfred.
"What is going on here?!" the man in red bellowed, anger in his tone.
The two pairs of eyes slowly looked at the intruder, and the girl jumped and covered her mouth.
"Scarecrow," the man in black whispered.
"What is going on in here?" Scarecrow repeated, "who is this boy?"
"We do not know, he was following Deca and Iliad, and they caught him." black said.
"Who are you boy?" Scarecrow said looking down at Alfred.
"Alfred Doel," Alfred said hesitantly, "please don't kill me!"
"Kill you? Dear no!" Scarecrow gave a little chuckle, "that's not what we're about!"
This heartened Alfred up a bit, although all his hope was shunted when he saw the look that the man cloaked in black gave him. He bowed his head, although no hand came to inflict pain on him again. What was his father doing? Was he worried? Or was he burying his head in his work, and hasn't even noticed Alfred was gone.
"Then what do we do with him, sir?" the girl in front of Alfred said.
Scarecrow looked at him, deep in thought. It was some time before he answered her, he kept nodding and shaking his head, and occasionally grunting. He finally crossed his arms and nodded firmly.
"I say, we keep him around, I daresay we need the extra hands around here, especially after what happened last night," he looked over to two figures standing side by side who oddly fidgeted.
Alfred looked up, directly at Scarecrow. 'Keep him around'? What did that mean? And could he possibly be talking about the heist from last night?
"Sir, you want to keep this boy? He is the son of that detective, from what Deca tells me," black said, taken aback.
"And he should live," Scarecrow now looked directly at Alfred, "as long as he does what I say, and promises he won't go tattletale on