Ace of Spades Sneak Peek(102)

There is movement across the crowd as people begin shuffling around in their seats. I soon realize what they are doing. They are swapping out their masks. Exchanging them for identical ones. The mask from the hallway. The mask that chased me home.

Everyone in the hall has one on.

They sit there.

I know it’s silent, but all I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears.

This is Aces. Every person I have spent the past four years with. Every person who I have looked in the eye. Sat next to in class. Passed in the hallway. Every person who, all along, wanted to humiliate me, see me work to get to the top, only to tear me down. Every person who knew they could hide behind these masks—online or here, now; a cult, that wants nothing more than to see me and Devon fail.

“Is your performance over?” a deep, dark voice says from behind me. I turn sharply and I am met by familiar jet-black hair; a wrinkled, expressionless face; and eyes devoid of light, staring down at me.

“We gave you the chance to leave with some of your dignity intact, but instead you two clearly want the Dianna Walker treatment,” Headmaster Ward says.

“What did you do to Dianna?” Devon says, sounding terrified.

I feel like I’m in a nightmare.

“You don’t scare us; we’ve recorded it all, and it’s being broadcast across America,” I say.

“Is that so…? Where are the cameras?” Headmaster Ward asks.

I glance back out into the sea of Aces. There’s still no sign of Ms. Donovan or her camera operator. What is going on?

“Alice, is that true? Are these two heretics going to destroy us all?” Headmaster Ward continues, turning to the crowd as one of the masked people removes the scary white mask from their face, revealing a smiling Ms. Donovan underneath.

No.

“Fuck…,” Devon whispers.

Fuck, I think.

This can’t be happening. How is this possible? How is she involved?

I remember Belle’s words, when I’d confronted her on Monday.

… it’s not just Niveus; there are places all over the US that … that do this.

Central News 1 is a part of it.

God knows who else.

We need to get out of here, I think, just as I hear a low rumbling sound. Footsteps and people yelling.

I step back as the doors of the hall burst open and all of a sudden a rush of people swarms in. Outsiders. They’re chanting something, but I can’t make it out from the stage.

Some climb on the tables, kicking the expensive china. Others are simply screaming and blasting music from phones and speakers in their hands.

Protesters?

I finally make out what they are saying. “No justice, no peace.” Over and over again.

So many brown faces, disrupting the ocean of white.

They are all so angry.

I think they are fighting for us.

I look at Devon and his eyes are wide.

Before I can do anything else, I feel a large hand grab me, dragging me away through the curtains. I glance back, trying to break out of this powerful grip, and that’s when I feel cold metal pressed to my forehead.

A gun.





43


DEVON

Thursday


There are protesters everywhere. Loud music breaking up the quiet. People screaming.

It’s chaos. But even stranger, I don’t think I have ever seen this many Black people, ever, outside of my neighborhood.

I’ve definitely never seen this many Black people in Niveus. All these years, it was just me and Chiamaka.

People are here fighting … and they seem to be fighting for us.

I didn’t want to be right about Central News 1. I wanted them to be good. But something I’ve realized is that very few things in this world are good.

I turn, expecting to see Chiamaka next to me, but there’s no one there. I feel a little panic, the same panic as when you lose your ma in the supermarket when you’re a kid. I hear a noise behind me and I turn, walking toward the entrance we came through. I see two figures. As I get closer, I see clearly.

Standing by the doors is Chiamaka. She looks horrified, frozen in place as Headmaster Ward presses a gun to her head.

I freeze, watching my ex-headmaster, who’s moments away from shooting Chiamaka.

I shakily step toward the thick curtain, trying to draw it back without him noticing. If I act quickly, maybe I can push him off, grab the gun, stop him from doing anything.

A part of me wonders if this is what happened to Dianna Walker. The first girl Aces targeted, back in 1965. What if … they killed her?

Ward starts saying something to Chiamaka, but I only make out the words classroom and move. Chiamaka looks terrified. I have to stop him. He moves her toward the door, his hands gripping her arm tightly.

I swallow, pushing the curtain a little, only stepping through halfway. Chiamaka looks at me briefly.

He backs her up a little more, then reaches out to touch the door handle but quickly jolts back.

I take this moment to charge toward Ward, barging into him, hoping it makes him tumble. Only I didn’t expect him to be this strong. He stumbles but doesn’t fall.

He turns to look at me, disgust written across his features. There are screams in the background and people chanting.

I notice Chiamaka edging toward Ward.

“What did you do to Dianna?” I ask, breathing hard. “Did you guys kill her?”