Brendan was still pondering over what Thomas…or, Black Ice had said; about how these people would never be grateful towards anything he would do for them. How could he even help such an ungrateful people?
He looked back at Miss Putin who was fighting harder to break free from the ice on her throat but the effort was only fruitless. He walked towards her and she tried all the more to break free.
She opened her mouth to scream but Brendan covered it with his hand and her scream was only muffled. With his other hand he pulled apart the ice which had been constricting her throat. The pieces of the ice scattered onto the ground, then he finally released his hold on her mouth.
When she had been freed, Miss Putin rubbed her throat as if she was touching it for the first time. With her eyes fixed on Brendan, she began to move away from him with her back against the wall as if the wall was a human magnet. As soon as she was a short distance away from him, she put her legs into serious work and she ran out of the alley, high heels and all.
Brendan remained on the same spot, confusion and rage rising inside him. If Miss Putin knew his true identity, would she treat him with the same disgust as she had just displayed?
'He's in there!' This was Miss Putin's voice shouting from outside the alley.
Brendan clenched his fists.
At the entrance of the alley stood three people; two police men and Miss Putin. The officers pointed guns at him. 'Put your hands up!' Both of the officers shouted.
He didn't respond or even turn around.
'We repeat..!'
Brendan raced up the wall of the alley using his heightened speed, leaving the police men and Miss Putin stunned, thinking he had disappeared because his movements had not been seen by them.
When he got home, he was still thinking about what Black Ice had said to him. No matter what great or noble deed he would do for the citizens of Bradwield, he would always be viewed as a lawbreaker, a freak and a misfit. He took off his costume and threw it under the bed then he went downstairs and made himself a snack and sat down and ate. As he sat by the kitchen table eating, he wondered what kind of insanity the school would expose next. He was certain of one thing though; he had to find out the truth about these so-called "Supreme Races of the World".
*
The next day, Monday, Brendan got up like he usually did. He showered, had breakfast, brushed his teeth and got ready for school. The reaction that Miss Putin had rewarded him with when he rescued her had been maddening but this was not as painful as the sharpness of Black Ice's question. What would he do when a greater evil arose and he stopped it? What would he do when the people continued to blame him for all the wrong in the city? His friends were already calling him a criminal; Samantha's father had called him a freak and Miss Putin almost got him arrested…or killed. What would he do if Bradwield would forever see him as a witch or lawbreaker?
The damaged wall of the school had been perfectly rebuilt. Almost everyone was admiring the work of the skilled builders. Even the toilet sinks in the boys' toilets had been either fixed or replaced. All damaged lockers including Brendan's had been replaced with new ones. This moment of admiration however was brought to a stop by Principal Johnston who drove all students to their classrooms.
Brendan's desk was now a bit isolated from the others now that Angus was dead and Thomas had been expelled. With Thomas gone it was obviously a relief but the fact that Brendan murdered Angus haunted him.
The first two periods began with Math and the rest of the two were occupied with History. It was a pop quiz and half of Brendan's mind was not focused on it. As soon as it was over, he approached Miss Putin's desk.
The floral dress she was wearing ended half an inch above her knees. She was wearing blue high heels and her hair was in a pigtail, liberally revealing the beauty of her face. She was wearing a perfume that smelt strongly like unknown flowers.
When he was within a few feet of her, her perfume had already begun to sting his nose. 'Miss...?'