CHAPTER TWELVE
The next morning, Bait was running along the Academy’s track field as part of his warm-up session for Gym class, which would be after breakfast. It was a cold morning, in the mid-forties, but Bait was already hot from running for the last half-hour or so. The other students were also running. Some were behind him, some were ahead of him, and a few were lying on the grass near the track, panting hard from having run so much. The coach—the superhero Rerun, a former member of the Independent Neoheroes for Justice—was standing over those students yelling at them to get up and start running again, but it was pretty clear to Bait that they were not going to be getting up again anytime soon.
“Sure am glad I’m not being screamed at like those kids,” Bait said. He looked to his rig
