London's School for Wanted Children by Caleb Baker (best fiction books of all time .TXT) 📕

us."
"I promise, sir," Alfred said at once, the fear of dying clouding his mind.
What kind of place was this? alfred thought to himself.
"Good, now Gray, I will need to speak with you in private, in my office. Deca, will you show this young man to his living quarters?"
"Yes sir, right away!" the figure from the sewer came out of the circle and brought Alfred onto his feet and grabbed him by the arm.
The figure called Deca led him through the door that Scarecrow entered from. This room was dimly lit, and about as large as the one before, except this one had a ring in the middle of it. A hallway to their left was their next destination, and it took them to another door. Once open, this door revealed another hallway. This corridor was also dimly lit, and in it held at least fifty other doors, these must have been the living quarters, Alfred thought. Just as he suspected the next door that Deca led him through housed three beds, three nightstands and a closet.
"This is it, home sweet home," Deca said brightly, laying down in the bed closest to the door.
Alfred didn't say anything, he made his way over to a bed that looked unused and saw that he was right when Deca made no protest. Deca had short dirty blonde and spiky hair, and his eyes were bright blue.
"So, how do you like it here?"
Alfred didn't know how to answer that question. His whole day had gone from a bad to worse in the lapse of an hour. What started out as a boring day at the office with his father had quickly turned into an exciting adventure in the underground sewer system.
"What is this place?" Alfred said slowly.
The boy called Deca sat up on his bed, his eyes averted from Alfred and staring at the floor.
"This..." he started off slowly, "this is a place for... Fugitives."
"fugitives? what do you mean?" Alfred asked.
"What, you don't know what fugitive means?" Deca asked rudely.
"I know what it means," Alfred retorted, he was getting a very bad impression of this place, "so you're all criminals, on the run from the law."
"No!" Deca said getting to his feet, "we're not criminals... We're runaways..."
"Okay, now I don't understand," Alfred said.
Deca looked at him squarely and then turned and sat back down on his bed.
"We're runaways," he repeated, "we all either ran away from home or we were abandoned. This place is like a haven."
"If it's a haven, then why was I treated like that out there?" Alfred snapped, his anger was getting the best of him.
"Because your a no good cop," a voice said from the doorway.
A hooded boy stood in shadow of the hallway light, and he stepped into it when Alfred looked at him.
"You're a cop, and you are here to ruin everything," the boy continued.
He stepped into the room and stood next to Deca, his arms crossed.
"I'm no cop," Alfred said slowly, "my father is a cop."
"Which makes you one as well," the boy said, taking off his hood to reveal long curly dark hair.
"Iliad, stop, he's new, let him be," Deca muttered.
"He doesn't deserve this place," Iliad said crossly, "he is not a runaway."
The room was silent, tense. Alfred began to feel annoyed himself, who was this boy? he thought.
"So what does that, Scarecrow man want with me anyways?" Alfred said.
"I don't know," Deca said quickly, "I expect he'll send for you. He must see something in you though."
That was cryptic, Alfred thought to himself.
"He sees something in me?" he asked aloud.
"Yes, although it's a mystery how. He's blind," Deca said firmly.
"He's blind?!" Alfred yelled, "he looked right at me, in the eyes!"
"Enough!" Iliad growled, "someone is coming, for you of course," he looked directly at Alfred.
Soon enough another person stood in the doorway, this time it was the girl who saved his life earlier. She had long wavy brown hair, and her eyes were a striking green.
"You are to come with me," she said to Alfred, "Scarecrow wants to talk to you."
Alfred got up from his bed, and strode out of the room behind the girl. Deca and Iliad stared after him, Iliad with a granite stone look upon his face, and Deca with a face full of curiosity. The girl led him back up the hallway and into the room with ring in the middle of it, except this time she took him down a different corridor which led to a door very much like the one in the sewer system. She rapped on the door with her fist and stood back while it opened. This room was dark, only lit by torches on the wall. It had a red and gold circular rug in the middle of it, where stood, the man who opened the door and the man named Scarecrow.
"I've brought him, sir," the girl said bowing.
"Thank you, Foxe," Scarecrow said beckoning them both forward.
The girl called Foxe strode into the room taking her spot next to a person Alfred did not know, while Alfred remained standing in the same place.
"Don't be scared boy, that whole killing you business was only a hoax," Scarecrow said assuringly.
Alfred did not move.
"I like it here," Alfred said.
"Very well," Scarecrow said, shrugging his shoulders, "I have called you down to talk, but first, is there anything you wish to ask me? I can imagine your mind is racing with questions."
He was right, this whole time, Alfred had been questioning everything.
"What is this place?" Alfred asked first.
Deca's answer didn't quite suffice.
"This, is a school, my dear boy." he answered remotely.
"A school? What do you teach?" Alfred asked arching his eyebrow.
"We teach, a lot of things. We are very unlike the schools on your surface. We teach children to steal, for instance."
That was the craziest thing Alfred had ever heard.
"You teach kids to steal? Why would you teach kids to be criminals?"
"Not criminals, Alfred. Heroes." Scarecrow said sagely.
"Heroes? How is stealing heroic?" Alfred said wildly.
"We are an underground justice system," Scarecrow answered flatly, "we make sure things are returned to rightful owners, and we make sure no bad deed goes unpunished."
"Isn't that what the police are for?"
"Your government is corrupt. The streets of England teem with people who believe that they can put their trust into one overpowered individual. Here at my school, we are impartial, and see that everyone in England gets a proper trial at life in just."
"So what you return stolen goods, and beat up crooks stealing purses?" Alfred said comically.
"If that's what it takes. Every bad deed deserves a punishment."
"You people are crazy!" Alfred yelled at the three people in the room.
None of their faces faltered. They all wore stony expressions, giving no sense that they were even listening to him.
"Are we, Alfred? Or are you the crazy one. You have been brought up into a world that is poverty stricken, war inflicted, and orphan infested. And not once have you stopped to question why. The world is corrupt, and we are the last resistance," Scarecrow said, he took a step closer, "you can help fight it, and return everything to the way it should be. Impartial."
It sounded good to Alfred, a world impartial. A world where good deeds were honored, and bad deeds were punished. A world where justice reigned.
"So, how does everything work, how do you all pull off the heists and punish bad deeds?" Alfred asked skeptically.
"That shall come after."
"Come after what?" Alfred asked.
"After you are done asking questions," Scarecrow said bluntly.
Alfred didn't know how to respond. He had never talked to someone with such tenacity before.
"I take it, you are done," he said, taking notice to Alfred's sudden quietness.
"Yes," Alfred answered.
"Good. So, as I told you my school deals with teaching to steal, we also teach them to hide, how to be stealth, and how to fight." Scarecrow stated, he was now pacing across the rug, "At this school we take on missions. The missions usually consisting heists and robberies, although occasionally special missions come along, those being assassinations and such. Don't fret, we haven't performed an assassination since the eighteen hundreds," he added seeing the look on Alfred's face.
"We take on these missions, and perform them to the dot, no questions asked." he continued.
"Wait! Do people give you the missions?" Alfred interrupted.
"I thought you were done asking questions," Scarecrow said, "nevertheless I will answer it. Yes people give out the missions, but not directly. We intercept police reports, and such, and watching the news does help." he added with a smile.
"Now I have a question, Alfred," he said his smile fading.
"What is it?"
"Do you want to join us?"
Alfred was stunned. He couldn't possibly choose right now, a life on the surface or a life off the grid.
"Can I have some time to think about it?" Alfred asked.
"No."
He felt the icy stare of scarecrow pierce his own eyes. He had to make the decision now.
"Yes... I want to join," he said, not believing his own words.
"Splendid, I believe you have already seem your room. You are sharing it with Daniel and Thomas I believe," Scarecrow said looking at Foxe, who nodded her head fervently.
"So what happens next?" Alfred asked.
"Next comes your initiation, but first you must show you have the aptitude," Scarecrow answered, as he put a hand on Alfred's back and led him further into the room.
Scarecrow was tall and very fit looking, he had long, jet black hair l, that he tied into a ponytail. His eyes were a pale blue, although they lacked pupils. A long scar that started at the top right corner of his forehead stretched over his eye and onto his cheekbone. Other than that, his features were perfect.
"What do you mean aptitude? Are you going to test me?" Alfred asked unsure of himself.
"You ask so many questions, do you ever let things unfold themselves?" Scarecrow said.
"I'm sorry, my father is a detective, I guess it just runs in the family."
"That is precisely what I wanted to talk to you about."
Scarecrow led him into a room that was much more brighter than the last, this one had many bookshelves and tables. Each table had on it a lamp, and every bookshelves was lined with old looking books. this must be a library, Alfred thought.
"Your father works in the Police Department downtown, correct?" Scarecrow said.
"Yes."
"And you being his son, have the opportunity to be near him at all times."
"Well, yes, except when I go to school and he goes to work."
"This is your school now," Scarecrow said assertively, "we can arrange, that you not go to school on the surface anymore, and your parents don't have to know about it. But, that's besides the point. At every opportunity you get you will go to work with your father, do you understand?"
"Yes, but can I ask why?" Alfred said, dreading going to work with his father.
"I will explain everything when you are initiated. If you are initiated,"