How to Save Your School From Soul Stealing Demons

CHAPTER FORTY

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 19TH
5:47 PM
AMBROSE'S HOUSE

We make a short stop at Ambrose's house to get changed and strap up, since his parents are both at work for the night. While Renny uses the bathroom to get dressed last, the three of us guys wait in the living room and work on concealing our weapons. 

Watts has it easy, since all he has to do is keep the book tucked in his waistband, beneath his shirt. But for Ambrose, Renny and I, things aren't as simple. We spent a lot of the afternoon rigging some velcro straps with the limited materials we could find in Bradford's small stores. There are two for each of us to wrap around one of our calves to keep our weapons secured under our pant legs. You might notice a slight bump in the fabric if you're looking for it, and we might walk a little funny, but I don't think anyone will notice.

Renny leaves the bathroom and comes to join us, sticking out her leg and lifting the leg of her black jeans to reveal the bottom of the ax, sticking out just above her boot—a slightly less beaten-up pair than usual. "Feels pretty secure. How about you guys?"

I bend my leg back and forth a few times, testing the rig. The baseball bat is firm against my calf, as if I'm wearing some kind of splint. "Not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it feels like it'll hold."

Ambrose nods in agreement, then lets out a huff of laughter as he looks at the group. "We look like a team."

I realize he's right, thanks to the fact that we unknowingly all picked out the same homecoming outfit: white button-up, black pants, black shoes. About as close to fighting duds as we can get while still adhering to the formal dress code.

I glance outside, noting the setting sun. We need to head out. We're as ready as we'll ever be, but that thought doesn't do much to comfort me.

The rest of the group follows my gaze, and a silence falls over us, crushing the lightened atmosphere. Are they all thinking it too, that this could be the last time we're all together?

"I'm only gonna say this once," Renny says, adjusting the cuff of her sleeve. She looks us over, then sighs. "If any of you fucks up my first date by dying, I'll never forgive you. So don't."

The sentiment isn't entirely lost on me, but it does take the backseat to my shock. "Wait. You two are seriously considering this a date?"

Ambrose shakes his head as Renny fights to hold back a smile. "You do remember we're trying to kill a centuries-old, cult-leading witch, right?"

"Well..." Watts scratches the back of his neck, looking alarmingly surprised by our surprise. "I mean, it's still a dance."

"And I would've been pissed if he didn't ask me," Renny says, as if it excuses his outrageous first-date idea. "So yeah, it's a date. Problem?"

Ambrose sighs, holding up his hands. "No. But there's about to be if we don't get there soon, so let's go."

The words send a fresh rush of panic down my spine. I'm not ready—this can't really be it.

But it is. It's time, and we've prepared as best as we can. The only thing left to do is find Joan, and either kill or be killed.

God, I hope it's the former.

────── 〔⛧〕──────

Watts read the book the entirety of the short drive over, but he still hasn't found anything to help us by the time we've reached Vanterbest. As Ambrose finds a parking spot in the crowded lot, Watts tucks the journal back into his shirt.