“Now get going, all of you. And try to stay out of trouble if you can.”

They all nodded as they went out. Phyllis said that last bit every day before they left the house, but it didn’t seem to help any. Trouble had a knack of finding the four, no matter how they tried to avoid it.

Chapter 2

Redstone Secondary was bustling with more students than the town had residents. Busloads of teenagers trucked to school each morning from the surrounding towns, making it the place to be if you were between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. A fairly modern building, it consolidated all of the smaller schools into one super educational facility, funded with a large enough budget to acquire everything the kids needed to compete in the world outside Redstone. This was especially important, since few students hung around Redstone after graduation, opting instead to spread their wings and give Vancouver, Edmonton, or Calgary a try. Some of them even ventured as far as Toronto, pursuing careers in music or acting or one of the other arts. The pack had sometimes wondered what they might do after they’d finished high school. Harlan had his sights set on some sort of computer science degree, or information technology as they called it these days. Tora was a venturesome spirit and often talked about stage acting in Toronto, or perhaps in Stratford. Argus would likely stay put, or at least remain as close to the forest as possible. He’d often talked with Ranger Brock about becoming a ranger himself and the ranger had never said a word to discourage him. And Noble, well, nobody worried too much about his plans, because they all knew that he’d be a success at whatever he decided to do with his life. But before they could really worry about such things, the pack still had to make it through high school. Considering their genetics and unique physical attributes, that was a task that was best tackled on a day-to-day basis.

Like today for example. Harlan had briefly stopped by his locker after entering the school, and then had quickly set off for his homeroom. In the past, he’d found that if he lingered chatting in the hallway, or by anyone else’s locker chatting, some students would consider such loitering an invitation to tease and abuse him. Still, as careful as he was, that didn’t mean he was safe.

“There he is,” said a voice behind him.

Harlan didn’t turn around to see who’d identified him, because he already knew. There was only one person in all of Redstone Secondary who cared where Harlan Brock was at any time during the school day, and that person was Jake MacKinnon.

The name alone had Harlan feeling sick to his stomach.