Masterminds: Chapters 7–13

And it took forever: 1773, and we didn’t get a country until 1776? That’s bureaucracy. Either that, or the Founding Fathers had to crawl on their hands and knees from Boston to Philadelphia.

In a dispute over three shiploads of tea, American colonists, many disguised as Mohawk warriors, boarded the ships and tossed the tea into Boston Harbor. The event was a major catalyst in bringing on the American Revolutionary War, which began with the battles of Lexington and Concord in 1775.

“Having technology is a privilege, Eli,” he says reprovingly. “I trust you not to abuse it by staying up till all hours of the night.”

“The storm played havoc with a number of electrical systems around town,” he explains. “I was concerned that your tablet might be damaged if you left it plugged into the charger.”

“It’s not good. He’s had a relapse of his recent illness.”

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m sure your friend will be fine.”
I bristle. “What planet are you living on, Mom? I’m not his nursemaid; I’m not even his friend. I hate everybody equally.”

“And it’s all because some of us are supposed to be special!”
“Special how?” asks Amber in bewilderment.

There are men on board, in Mohawk warrior garb.

“I don’t understand why it isn’t doing better. All the other plants around the house are thriving.”

My sole ally, my only friend, is my mind.

You are required to laugh or he keeps them coming. He prefers a big guffaw, but today he’ll have to settle for a chuckle.

She mulls this over. “I guess that’s the first secret—that there are secrets.”

“I’m starting to learn things about this town,” I say slowly, “and I think they’re trying to make me forget.”
She looks at me skeptically.

“It’s quite serious, I’m afraid, Victoria,” Mr. Frieden replies gravely. “But don’t worry. He’s receiving excellent care.”

“A B!” she laments. “I’ve never had a B in my whole life!”

Their faces are flushed, their arms waving.

If she thinks we're conspiring against the Serenity way of life, she’ll blow the whistle on us for sure.

“Something’s not right, something very basic to this town and our lives,” Eli says earnestly. “And whatever it is, all our parents seem to be mixed up in it.”

The kids of Serenity follow the rules 100 percent. The town charter has no provision for sneaking around.

In my mind, we’re impossible to overlook—three clumsy bodies trying to disappear behind a few brambles.

It’s only when the sound of the cart’s motor has completely faded that we muster the courage to emerge from the bush, one figure at a time—one...two...three...four...

The sign-in page isn’t all that different from the screen that’s on display when I hack into my Xbox. If Randy and I can exploit glitches in our video games...

On a whim, I tap two more words into the search field: McNALLY ACADEMY.

This is a delicate operation. It requires the utmost concentration.

I try to sound casual. “No, not this time.”
This is the hardest part—not that I’m plotting to break every rule of the only place I’ve ever known, but that I don’t dare tell my closest friend.

Splice extensions into the existing alarm wires in order to bypass the door. Flaws: not sure how to cut the wire to splice it without setting off the alarm in the first place.

“What about the roof?”
“The roof?” Malik repeats incredulously. “If we can’t reach the windows, how can we get up to the roof?”

“Maybe there’s an aerial photograph.”

“They’ve got pictures and schematics and blueprints of every building in Happy Valley except the Plastics Works.”

The thin wooden dowel snaps in Malik’s hand when I ask him to hold it; Hector pours quick-drying glue on his shoes; Eli can’t cut through a two-ply plastic garbage bag without shredding it.

The day is sunny and blustery—at least, blustery for around here. Sometimes the prevailing winds are pushed south toward us by the mountains of Colorado.

Eli lets out more string, his hands working deftly on the spool.

Those fans are so droning and monotonous that I almost drop off myself. Wouldn’t that be classic—to snooze through my own break-in?

Muttering under my breath, I climb the fence to Hector, and Eli and Tori, who are already over, clamber up the other side.

On the next throw, the rope doesn’t come back. I pull it taut and it holds.

“Hurry, Hector! We’re at eighteen minutes!” Tori hisses.
To underscore this point, we hear the hum of the golf cart in the distance, growing louder.

From there, she can reach the eaves. She heaves herself up with both arms and rolls over onto the roof.

We head for it, wending our way around various pipes and vents.

She looks so crestfallen that it begins to sink in that nobody thought to bring any other equipment to gain access to the building.

“It was pretty loud,” Hector ventures.