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The Unexplainable Disappearance of Mars Patel Page 8
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Oliver looked languidly at them. “Lots of eager students. That’s what I like! How about you in the back? Yes, you. Why don’t you come down, Mr. Mars Patel?”
His finger was pointed straight at Mars.
“M-m-me?” Mars stammered, surprised. He stood up slowly.
Caddie’s hand shot out. “Don’t do it,” she said immediately.
“Yes, yes, you, Mars.” Oliver Pruitt gave a delighted smile.
“How do you know my name?” Mars asked. He was worried, but he was pleased, too. Oliver Pruitt knew who he was? It seemed like a million faces were turned toward Mars, but it was Oliver’s face he concentrated on.
Oliver continued smiling easily. “Yes, Mars. I know you,” he said pleasantly. “I know all of you. Caddie, JP, Toothpick.”
Caddie sucked in her breath.
“Oh my god,” JP breathed. “The billionaire guy does know who we are.”
“And he didn’t call me Randall either,” Toothpick said approvingly.
“Don’t go,” Caddie pleaded. “I have a bad feeling, Mars.” Her eyes flashed behind her glasses. Mars had never seen her this way — panicky. But Caddie always felt so strongly about everything. Maybe she was getting thrown by Oliver Pruitt being in their gym.
“I have to go,” he told her. “Don’t worry, Cads. I got it.”
Oliver nodded encouragingly. “Good, come, Mars. Come on down to the stage.”
“Ask him about Jonas and Aurora,” JP urged, their eyes glued to Mars in excitement.
“Mars . . . my head,” Caddie warned.
Mars got up, making his way through the crowd.
“Oliver Pruitt knows Mars?” someone said as Mars walked past them down the bleachers.
“Yeah, but he’s still a freak,” someone else said.
Mars’s ears burned, but he kept walking. A hundred questions raced through his mind. He’d dreamed of this moment for so long, the day he’d meet Oliver Pruitt, but he’d never thought it would actually happen. Mars wanted to know how Oliver Pruitt knew him. He wanted to know if he thought they would make it to outer space, if humans would survive all the things that were wrong in this world, and if there was hope for someone like Mars. But most of all, he wanted to know where Aurora and Jonas were, and if Oliver could help find them. Oliver Pruitt could do anything. Could he help Mars and his friends?
Mars reached the bottom of the bleachers. A hush fell across the gym.
“Hi, Mr. Pruitt,” he called out nervously. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Yes, come up here to the front. Let’s have a good look at you. You’re certainly too small to see in the audience.”
Everyone laughed.
Mars walked to the stage unsurely. “Like here?” he asked.
“Closer. Closer. Yes, don’t be shy. Mr. Q, give him the ball.”
The ball?
Mr. Q walked to Mars, basketball in hand. His face was closely shaved and pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. “Here you go, Mars,” he said. Then he whispered, “Good luck.”
In the bleachers, Mars could see that his friends had come down to the front row. They were watching curiously — at least, JP and Toothpick were. Caddie looked positively ill.
“OK, I have the ball,” Mars said. He took a deep breath. “And a few questions, too.” That was good. He was calm. He could do this. Talk to his hero and get his questions answered.
Oliver Pruitt held out his hands. “First things first. I want you to throw the ball at me, Mars. Throw it hard! Right at me.”
“Throw the ball?” Mars asked, confused. He looked at the basketball in his hands as if he were seeing it for the first time.
“That’s right, Mars. They do teach you how to throw a basketball in this school, don’t they?”
Everyone laughed loudly again.
“Throw the ball, Patel!” Kids started yelling.
“Throw the ball, Martian!”
That last one was Clyde Boofsky’s voice. Mars knew even without looking.
Fine. They wanted him to throw the ball? He could do that.
Mars heaved the ball with force at Oliver Pruitt’s outstretched hands, and everyone saw it at the same time: the basketball went sailing right through Oliver’s hands, right through his entire body, then bounced against the curtains behind him.
Everyone gasped. Oliver Pruitt wasn’t there!
“He’s not onstage!” Mars shouted, astonished. “That’s not him!”
Oliver tipped his head back and laughed.
“That’s right, Mars. As you can all see, I’m not here.” Oliver held his arms out and turned around, and this time Mars noticed his boots were silent against the floor. “I’m somewhere else. But what you observe now is my image. I’m a hologram! Think of that! I’m a message, a beam of light, traveling on the wings of science!”
The place was in an uproar. Oliver Pruitt wasn’t real! Oliver Pruitt was a genius! Oliver Pruitt was going to rule the world with his inventions! What was going to happen next?
Mars was still standing on the stage. He didn’t know what to think. Why would Oliver Pruitt do this, be on a stage, broadcast to millions of kids around the world, while trying to fool everyone? Was this just some kind of game? Or was that the point? Mars thought hard, then he suddenly had an idea. That’s it!
“Mr. Pruitt, if you’re a hologram,” Mars said breathlessly, “is Pruitt Prep a hologram, too?”
For the first time, Oliver stopped smiling. The sun went out behind his eyes. “I think you need to improve your basketball skills, Mars,” he said.
By now the kids in the bleachers had settled down, but when they heard him say that, they all started to laugh.
“Let someone else throw the ball,” someone called out.
“Yeah, Martian Patel can’t throw.”
“He sucks!”
Mars ignored the voices behind him.
“But you didn’t answer my question,” Mars said. “Is Pruitt Prep real, or is it a beam of light?”
Isn’t that what his podcast was about? A beam of light? Maybe the school was a trick, too. Not real. Even if that didn’t completely make sense either.
“I never said this was a Q-and-A session, Mr. Patel,” Oliver said shortly. “It’s time for you to sit back down.”
Something had changed in Oliver Pruitt’s face. All of a sudden, he didn’t look so smug. Why wouldn’t he answer the question?
“My friends are missing,” Mars continued. “Do you know where they are?”
Mr. Q stepped forward. “Careful, Mars,” he warned.
There was no mistaking it now. Oliver Pruitt was scowling at Mars!
Mars wavered. Had he done something wrong? Should he stop? This was Oliver Pruitt, the person he’d wanted to be all his life. He’d listened to every podcast ever aired. He’d emailed the answer to every riddle. Oliver seemed upset that Mars was asking him questions, but what if he had the answer Mars was looking for? Mars pressed on. “Are Aurora and Jonas at your school? Are they at Pruitt Prep?”
“Mr. Patel,” Fagan called out, suddenly appearing on the stage. “Please step down at once!”
Meanwhile Oliver shot a look at Fagan and Mr. Q. “Is this what you encourage at this school? Crazy conspiracy theories?”
“We’re deeply sorry, Mr. Pruitt,” Fagan said. “Mars has always been a discipline problem.”
“That’s why we give him detention, sir,” said Mr. Q.
“Well, it’s obviously not working!” Oliver said snidely. “You disappoint me, Mars. I would expect a lot more from you.”
His words stung. Where was the Oliver Pruitt who made jokes and told riddles, and even seemed to be giving Mars clues on his podcast? Wasn’t he the one who’d warned Mars about the Code Red, and about heading to the clearing when they were on the island? It had always felt like Oliver Pruitt was secretly on his side.
This man wasn’t on Mars’s side. This man sounded like a jerk.
“Answer my question, Mr. Pruitt,�
� Mars shouted. “And I don’t care if you’re a hologram!”
Oliver narrowed his eyes. It was amazing how lifelike he was, down to his eyebrows and shock of hair. “Mars . . . you said you were surprised that I know you. But I’ve known you for years. All those letters I received from you: ‘Dear Mr. Pruitt, You’re my idol. I want to be just like you!’” His voice turned singsongy and mean.
Mars felt tears spring to his eyes. “I — did,” he said hoarsely.
“By the time I was your age, I’d designed my first fully automated car. What have you done with your life, Mars?” Oliver demanded. “Angered your teachers? Pranked your school? You think that’s progress? Running around with your clueless friends? What else have you done?”
“I — I don’t know,” Mars whispered. A feeling of awfulness swelled in him. From the bleachers Mars’s friends watched in horror. JP looked seriously pissed.
“Instead of accusing me,” Oliver said, “you should ask, why did Aurora and Jonas disappear in the first place? Is it your fault for leading them in the wrong direction? Are you the one who’s a bad leader?”
“He’s not!” JP’s voice shot angrily across the gym.
“Quiet, Ms. McGowan!” Fagan scolded.
Oliver wasn’t finished. “Maybe it’s time to admit that you’re the failure, Mars Patel.”
Everything he said felt like an arrow striking Mars down.
“Why are you doing this?” Mars cried. “You were my hero, and now . . .” His voice cracked.
“Loser!” someone called from the bleachers.
“Mars is a loser!”
“Get him off the stage!”
“Loser! Loser! Loser!” It became a deafening chant inside the gym.
Oliver the hologram remained onstage. He was so real-looking, but now Mars knew he was a fake. “Hmm, Mars, are those tears I see?” he asked with exaggerated concern. “If you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen. Go sit down!”
“Sit down, Mars! Sit down, Mars!” echoed the crowd.
“You know what? I’m going to find them!” Mars shouted.
“Sit down, Mars! Sit down, Mars!”
Mars backed away. White anger flashed through him. Oliver Pruitt wasn’t going to get away with this. Not now. Not after this.
Oliver watched from the stage, and it seemed like he was growing bigger and bigger with every second. “And what if you fail, Mars?” His voice boomed across the gym while everyone was yelling at the same time. “What are you going to do now when so far you’ve done NOTHING? I see — go ahead, then, run away like you always do, and —”
Mars had reached the gym doors as Oliver called out after him, when there was a loud squall and the sound cut instantly.
“JP McGowan!” Fagan’s furious voice rose above the din.
Through the crowd Mars saw JP standing at the front of the stage, grinning and defiant. In their hand, they held a cable. JP had unplugged the entire sound system.
“That’s how I roll, people!” JP yelled.
In the hall, waves of anger pulsed through Mars. Inside the gym he’d felt pounded on all sides, by the kids in the bleachers, by Mr. Q standing there doing nothing, by Fagan playing kiss-up, but most of all by Oliver Pruitt, who seemed to know every sad thought Mars had ever had, and had broadcast it to the entire world.
But what Oliver Pruitt didn’t know was that the same anger that had turned Mars speechless in the gym made him spring into action in the hall. By the time he reached his locker, Mars knew exactly what to do.
“Mars!”
He looked up to see Caddie, JP, and Toothpick running up to him.
“We were looking for you! And Fagan is looking for you, too!” Caddie said.
“Well, she found me!” JP said. “One week of detention for unplugging Oliver Pruitt!”
“One week of detention is nothing for you,” Toothpick observed proudly. “You could do that in your sleep.”
“Maybe I will!” JP said, grinning.
“What are you doing, Mars?” Caddie asked.
“Texting Aurora,” JP guessed.
“No.” Mars handed his phone to Caddie. “Just setting my phone up. Since you’re here, you can take the video of me.”
She looked at him, doubtful. “What’s it about?”
“Start recording,” he told her.
Caddie cleared her throat. “OK, here we go. Three, two, one, now.”
Mars took a deep breath and began. “Oliver Pruitt, you have our friends, Aurora and Jonas. And when you mess with a friend of Mars Patel, you don’t just get me, you get all of us. You think you have the whole world fooled. But you don’t fool me anymore. You’re a liar and a bully and I know you’re hiding something. We will find out what it is. And we will RUIN you. I don’t care how rich and how smart you are. You are going down! Mars out.”
“Cut,” Caddie said.
“That’s awesome!” JP cried.
“OK, hit send,” Mars said.
“Where are you sending it, Mars?” Caddie asked.
“Oliver Pruitt’s website,” he said. “Social media, YouTube, the works.”
“No one’s ever sent something like that to Oliver Pruitt,” Toothpick said. “It will go viral.”
“But Mars,” Caddie said, “if I hit this send button . . .”
Before she could finish, JP leaned across and pressed the green button on the phone.
“Mission accomplished,” JP said. “I think.”
Caddie stared incredulously at everyone. “Oh my god, guys, do you know what this means? Mars just declared war on the most powerful man on this planet!”
“No, Caddie,” JP said. “WE did.”
Ma
Mars! Are you up?
GIFT is today.
Why not answering your phone?
You better be getting ready for school
you know I can’t call you again until lunch
You’re not listening to that podcast are you?
Mars
guyz did u hear OP
JP
sry I have better things to do
Toothpick
I did mars is in trouble
Caddie
Omg wut did he say
Mars
he wants to eat me alive
JP
he doesn’t know who he’s messing with
Toothpick
GIFT starts after homeroom
Caddie
Here at school already
mom freaked about me being late
JP
B there in 5
Toothpick
B there in 2.5
Mars
B there I don’t know when
Caddie
Hurry mars
Mars
meet me on the front lawn guys
Mars
hey wuts that buzzing sound
Why doesn’t Oliver Pruitt say these things to your face, Mars?” JP asked. “Why does he have to threaten you on his podcast? Maybe he’s scared we’re going to kick his butt.”
They were standing on the front lawn before the first bell rang. In a few minutes the GIFT test would be starting.
“I don’t know,” Caddie said doubtfully. “He is the world’s most powerful man, JP.”
“Why do you keep looking at the sky, Mars?” asked Toothpick. “There isn’t rain in the forecast until noon. Just clouds and fog now. I checked this morning.”
“Does anyone else hear that buzzing sound?” Mars said. “I feel like it’s been following me or something.”
“You think it’s Oliver Pruitt sending a saber-toothed tiger after you?” JP said.
Mars shrugged. “I don’t think he meant a real tiger, JP. He was being metaphorical.”
“Or diabolical,” Toothpick said. “Because he’s Oliver Pruitt.”
“When did Oliver go from being a good guy,” Caddie wondered, “to being a bad guy?”
“Like, yesterday,” JP said. “Remember the assembly? We don’t ne
ed a HOLOGRAM throwing shade. Who cares if he’s got rocket ships? I don’t even want to take the GIFT anymore.”
“It’s mandatory,” Toothpick said. “Anyone who misses it faces probation. Or worse.”
“Yeah, yeah,” JP said. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“JP’s right,” Mars said. “Why should I take the GIFT either? I don’t want to go Pruitt Prep. Not after what Oliver Pruitt did in the gym.” And not if Oliver was out to get him.
“If he’s out to get you,” Caddie said, “then he’s out to get all of us.”
“Doing it again,” Mars said. “Being there in my head.”
“Sorry,” she said, sighing. “I guess I’m tired. My mom made me stay up last night doing flash cards. She thinks the GIFT is my last chance to straighten up or I’m a failure for life.”
“How could anyone say that about you?” JP said. “You’re perfect.”
“That’s not what my mom says,” Caddie said.
“Why does the school even care what Oliver Pruitt thinks?” Mars asked.
“Well, everyone cares what you think of Oliver Pruitt, Mars,” Toothpick said. He had been looking at his phone. “Your video message to him has been viewed 1.3 million times.”
“Dude, you’re famous!” JP exclaimed.
“That’s probably why he wants to kill me,” Mars said.
“I’m sure Oliver Pruitt doesn’t want to kill you,” Caddie said. She stopped.
They all looked up. This time they all heard it.
“See? It’s that buzzing sound,” Mars said. “What is that?”
Toothpick pushed up his glasses and studied the sky. “It’s a drone,” he said matter-of-factly.
JP narrowed their eyes. “Say what?”
“You mean, like, a flying robot?” Mars asked incredulously.
They all looked at a gray, metallic object that was now moving in rapid circles over their heads.
“It looks like a gigantic mosquito,” JP said.
“A drone is a small unmanned aircraft,” Toothpick explained. “The military uses them for surveillance, target spotting, reconnaissance, and weaponry.”
“Weaponry? You mean like braining people?” JP picked up their backpack from the ground. “OK, maybe it’s time to take the GIFT — inside!”