It was just ten minutes until midnight. For every other student at Mighty Spirit Divinity School, it meant dead silence and deep sleep. That wasn’t just the norm. That was the rule and it was strictly enforced by a legion of teachers, nuns, and security personnel. For Zachery Barns, though, the rule was merely an obstacle and one worth breaking.
“It’s time,” he said in a voice so quiet that only the angels of Heaven could hear him.
Wearing only the black cotton pants and bland white shirt that all boys had to wear, he slipped out of his bed and put on a pair of dirty loafers he had next to his dresser. He briefly checked on his roommate, Herb, who was fast asleep. He might have been faking, but he kept his eyes closed and didn’t dare glance in his direction, assuring Zach that he was in the clear.
There was an unwritten rule at the school, one that everyone learned after the first week. The Mighty Spirit Divinity School had one of the strictest discipline policies in the state. The running joke was that they micromanaged students so much that their preferred form of worship involved mimicking God’s omnipotence. It was a good thing that the administrators weren’t divine because their record was anything but perfect.