The Hadley Academy for the Improbably Gifted

by Conor Grennan

  They were alive. But their situation was bleak. Elk Island, outside the wall, was a death trap. They would be exposed as soon as they left the cave. They wouldn’t last ten miles; they wouldn’t even last ten minutes. If they were healthy, they might be able to hold off one dragon for a few minutes. If he didn’t have a broken wrist. If Claire’s ankle wasn’t badly sprained.

  Only the single dim circle of light on the ceiling of the cave from the flashlight kept the cave from complete blackness. Claire stared into space.

  “What is it?” Jack asked.

  She came out of her trance. “You had quick instincts, picking me up like that. You saved my life.”

  “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’ve faced death three times now, Jack. In Jersey City, then in DC, and now.” She shivered. “I’m not sure I’m built for this.”

  “I’ve seen you in the Dome. You’re the most lethal recruit at Hadley. This is exactly what you’re built for,” he said. “But you need rest.” He retrieved a packet of pain pills from his pack and swallowed one to ease the sting in his wrist. “Sleep will help.” He held the packet out to Claire, but she shook her head.

  “I’ll wake you up in an hour. We’ll take turns on watch.”

  She hesitated, then stretched out. “Can I lean on you?”

  “Sure.”

  Claire put her head on Jack’s shoulder. For a minute he thought she had already fallen asleep.

  “Why did you like me, Jack?” Her eyes were still closed. “You did, right? Why?”

  “Why are you bringing it up?”

  “Because I know why Brandon liked me. I already told you. He needed a friend not a girlfriend, somebody who would listen. He could trust me.”

  Jack hadn’t really thought about why he liked Claire. Not clinically, not like that. He considered it in silence for the first time. And even when it came to him, he wasn’t sure how to say it in a way that would make sense.

  “I don’t usually feel in control, I guess. Blackouts will do that to you. I thought if I did all those sit-ups and push-ups every night, I could muscle through it. It’s why I started running. When I ran, I felt like everything in that moment was in my control. It felt like . . . freedom. I was happy when I was doing that, which is maybe more like the absence of dread and anxiety, but whatever. It counted as happiness for me.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “I guess I’m saying I realized that it wasn’t the running that made me feel that way. It was running with you,” he said. “You made me feel like everything was going to be okay. I don’t know how, but you did.”

  Claire didn’t react at first. Her hand was near his, just an inch away. Jack could feel the energy off of it, a tingling.

  Then she reached a little farther and took his hand, pressing her palm to his palm, her skin to his. A river of soft energy flowed into Jack, warmth flooded his entire being. Then her hand gently slipped away.

  Claire looked up at him. “Wake me in an hour?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Claire’s eyes closed before he’d finished answering. Her breath slowed, and her neck and body relaxed against him. Her flashlight powered down as she fell asleep. Jack leaned against the wall of the cave and stared into the dark, resting in the lingering warmth that flowed from that touch.

  CHAPTER 27

  “I do not avoid the dragons.” He tapped the knives on his leg. “They avoid me.”

  THE BOY IN THE WOODS

  Jack opened his eyes. Glancing at his band, he realized with a start that he had fallen asleep. It was three hours later and still dark toward the cave’s mouth.

  He looked around frantically. But they were safe. Claire was still fast asleep against him. They had made it through the night.

  Jack eased Claire’s head to one side. His wrist wasn’t as painful—the pain pills he had taken were strong. He stretched out his fingers to see how much movement he could handle with his broken wrist. Then he pushed himself up and turned on his light. He couldn’t see the mouth of the cave from where they were. He followed the curve of the cave toward the front, shining his light around the walls.

  Something rustled at the end of the cave, right at the mouth. He thought it was the creek, which should have gone down by now after the night’s rain. He shone his light toward it.

  He shrieked.

  Three dragons were forcing their way into the narrow arch of the cave, razor teeth glistening, jaws stretching toward him.

  “Claire!” he shouted.

  Jack drew his blade. The blaze lit up the cave. His wrist and shoulder exploded with pain. The dragons roared as they struggled to pull their large bodies through the opening. Jack gripped his blade, blocking their way to Claire. He tried to channel Freddy’s imagination. It was a Hadley blade; if he could envision what he could do with it, he might stand a chance.

  Thock. The first dragon’s head jerked forward. Its eyes rolled backward in its sockets. The second dragon was yanked from behind, legs flying out from under it. Thock. The third dragon screamed. Then it turned and attacked whatever was behind it. It disappeared for a moment, followed by a mad scuffle and two more shrieks before it, too, went silent.

  Jack stood frozen at the back of the cave, blade drawn.

  A pair of legs appeared. The figure squatted down and peered into the cave. Jack’s blaze illuminated chiseled features and cropped blond hair. The man held a long blade.

  “Hello, Jack,” Hans whispered. “I am sorry. I did not mean to wake you.”

  Jack tore across the cave and threw his arms around Hans’s waist. Hans patted Jack awkwardly on the back. When Jack didn’t let go, Hans put his substantial arms around the boy and did his best impression of a hug in return.

  Jack let go. “You came back.”

  Hans frowned. “Yes. Did you think I would not?”

  “Nobody knows who you are,” he said. “You disappeared.”

  “I have been very busy. There is much happening.”

  Jack gazed around at the dragons, frightening even in death. “I didn’t know you could kill dragons.”

  “I also did not know. I had never tried before.” Hans shrugged. “They were distracted. I perhaps had an unfair advantage.”

  “How did you know we were here?”

  “I found you out of seven billion people in the world, Jack. You think I could not find you on one small island?” He studied Jack. “I know this look. You have questions. Go wake Claire and come out. There are no dragons outside.”

  Claire was still fast asleep. But when Jack nudged her, she opened her eyes as if she had been merely resting.

  “What time is it? You didn’t wake me.” She didn’t even sound groggy.

  “How did you not hear me? I screamed your name.”

  She was up like a shot. “What happened?”

  “Everything’s okay.” Had he only imagined shouting her name? “Come on, we have to go. And I want you to meet somebody.”

  But Hans wasn’t outside. Claire blinked in the early morning light. “You sure he said to meet you out here?” She winced in pain. Her ankle was swollen.

  Jack knelt down and pulled a stiff bandage and spray from his pack. He wrapped the cloth around Claire’s ankle and sprayed it to harden it into a cast. He pulled out two tablets. “Hadley painkillers,” he said. “You’re not walking without them.”

  Claire hesitated, but she then grabbed them and swallowed them down. She froze as she saw something.

  “What?”

  Claire pointed past him. Jack turned. A boy stood there, alone in the forest. For a long moment, they just stared at each other.

  The boy spoke at last. “You are from the other side of the wall.” It was a statement rather than a question. “You came just as he said you would.”

  The boy wore slim-fitted pants, footwear that seemed molded to the skin, and a long coat that buttoned up to his neck. His face was slender and child-like, his head shaved down
to stubble. Four short throwing knives ran down his leg in sheaths. Behind him, on the ground, were the wet remains of a campfire and a small shelter.

  “Yes, we’re from the other side of the wall,” Jack said slowly, looking around for Hans. “Have you been waiting for us for a while?”

  “I have been waiting for eight months.” The boy picked up a thin leather backpack and put it on.

  “Eight months?” Jack said, puzzled. “I thought Hans brought you here.”

  “He did,” the boy answered. “Just as he brought you here.”

  “Hans didn’t bring us here.” Claire started. “Wait. How did you avoid the dragons? There were three of them, right out there.”

  “I do not avoid the dragons.” He tapped the knives on his leg. “They avoid me.” The boy stamped out the fire. “Hans told me that you would be searching for answers.”

  Jack nodded.

  “Then come with me.” The boy started walking.

  Claire looked at Jack skeptically. “You trust this kid?”

  “I trust Hans. He saved my life twice. And now yours too.”

  Claire cracked her knuckles. “Then I guess we follow the kid.”

  For two hours they pushed their way through the dense forest, moving slowly through the thick underbrush on their injured limbs. They climbed over a large fallen log, and the boy slowed down.

  He put his hand in front of him, as if he were feeling his way through a dark room. The air rippled before him. The forest in front of them distorted, as if it were just a vast painting on a curtain the boy was pushing on.

  “When we walk through, you must remain calm and keep in a straight line,” he instructed them.

  “When we walk through what?” Claire asked, looking around. “We’re still in the forest.”

  “It’s like the Silo,” Jack said in wonder.

  “Are you able to remain calm and keep in a straight line?” the boy repeated. “If you panic and move out of line, I don’t know if I can keep you safe.”

  Jack gulped. “Yes. We’ll remain calm. And in a straight line.”

  The boy pushed through the invisible curtain of the forest. They were suddenly in a vast clearing. Not far ahead of them was a heavy wooden wall of uncut horizontal logs stacked two stories high. A simple iron gate created the only break in the wood structure. Surrounding the wall, and standing between them and the gate, must have been thirty dragons.

  Jack’s heartbeat stuttered at the sight. Claire gasped and stumbled backward. Jack caught her and held her in front of him, directly behind the boy. Jack grabbed his blade hilt. But the boy reached back and snatched Jack’s hand before he could deploy the weapon.

  “Remain calm,” the boy said firmly.

  The dragons ranged in size from a wolf to a dump truck, all blood-red and scaled. Their bodies also had different shapes. Some were long-jawed reptilian monsters while others reminded Jack of jaguars, sleek and angular.

  “They’re going to kill us,” Claire whispered, panicked.

  “They will not kill you,” the boy said evenly. He drew his four knives from their sheaths and stacked them in one hand. “I will not let them.”

  The boy hurled the knives high into the air. They rose like magnets attracted to something high in the sky until they disappeared from view.

  “Okay. We can go.” The boy walked toward the compound. Claire and Jack followed right behind. Jack stared straight ahead into Claire’s hair. He could feel the volcanic breath of the dragons closing in around them. Then one of the beasts sprung at him from his left. Jack flinched and cried out. Something above whistled.

  Hundreds of knives fell from the sky, like sleet, a gray sheet of them. Dragons roared and yelped and let out high-pitched screams. Jack felt the hail of metal pressing in around him, but nothing touched him. Around him the dragons fled, daggers stuck in them like steel quills.

  When the metal had stopped falling, the boy held out his hand. The hundreds of knives had vanished. Only his four knives fell from the clouds, landing in a perfect stack in his palm. He sheathed each of them in turn. Then they continued to the gate.

  Claire stared at him. “You’re an improbable.”

  “I am human, and every human is born with a gift,” the boy told her. “I have chosen to use mine.” He pushed open the iron gate.

  Inside the large compound was an open grassy field. The wall that surrounded the community formed the backs of simple wooden huts that lined the clearing with no space between them. It reminded Jack of the wagons he’d seen circled up on documentaries of the Old West. Men, women, and children stood by their open doors or squatted on flat roofs.

  “She’s been waiting for you,” the boy said.

  Seated cross-legged and serene in the clearing was a woman in a coat and pants that matched the boy’s clothing. She rose and walked toward Claire and Jack.

  “Who is she?” Claire asked as the woman approached.

  But Jack was speechless. The woman stopped a few feet away from him.

  “Hi, honey.”

  Jack’s mother embraced him. Tears streamed down his cheeks and soaked into the shoulder of her coat. He stepped back. “What are you doing here?” Jack asked, his mouth dry. “What is this place?”

  “This is where our people live.” She took his hands in hers, as she used to when he was a boy. “We’re the Order of the Grays. Our people have been on Elk Island for a thousand years.”

  “The Order of the Grays died out a hundred years ago,” Claire said.

  But Jack was still trying to grasp his mother’s presence. “What do you mean, your people?”

  “I’ll try to answer your questions, my sweet boy. But first, you need to eat.” She was still just his mom. Food came first.

  The monks brought them plates of freshly stewed rabbit and venison with potatoes and vegetables and charred corn on the cob. The food all came from a large fire pit in the center of the circle of log huts. Families of Grays sat on the ground near the fire, eating their midday meal together. Across the field, a young brother and sister, identical twins, sat on either side of the large fire. They took turns shaping the rising smoke into perfect images of animals while smaller children gathered around them, laughing and clapping. As Claire and Jack ate, Jack’s mother told them her story.

  “Thirteen years ago, the Supreme One, the greatest of the Order of the Grays, summoned me.”

  “He was born last night.” The Supreme One sat cross-legged, across from Sarah, inside his wooden hut.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “The Guardian,” said the Supreme One. “You will raise him until he is ready.”

  “I was dumbfounded,” Jack’s mom told him and Claire. “Every Gray knows they have a role to play, but I was thirty-three years old, single, and had never been off Elk Island. I was unremarkable in every way. I’d assumed I would live out my days here.” She touched Jack’s cheek for just a moment, then continued. “Grays are not supposed to be afraid. Not ever. But I was terrified.”

  “You were the one in Hans’s vision,” the Supreme One told her. Sarah could not argue with a vision.

  “You know why the Order of the Grays exists, Sarah.”

  “We exist to protect civilization. We exist to fight the Shadow. We exist to bring the Guardian safely into the world.”

  “This boy—he is the Guardian,” said the Supreme One. “The one who will end the Reaper War.”

  The visions of the Grays were never clear. But even by that standard, Sarah was confused. “I am not qualified to raise a warrior,” she said.

  “Hans is only asking you to raise a boy.”

  “What if I fail?” Sarah asked. “What if I cannot protect him?”

  The Supreme One placed his hand on hers and squeezed like a reassuring parent. His skin was tough, like a hide. “He will be your son, and you will be his mother. You have been chosen.”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Jack said. “I can’t do the things you say I’m supposed to do.”
/>   Jack’s mother took his hand in hers, as the Supreme One had done for her years before. Jack realized he had been gripping her wrist, afraid she would somehow vanish before she could answer.

  “You can do more than you know, Jack. We’ve been tracking your progress at Hadley. You sense the presence of reapers faster than anyone. You understand Wyeth in a way that nobody else can. Can you hear him? Does he speak to you?”

  Jack hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve heard him. But it’s my imagination. Or the Dome. I don’t know which.”

  “Jack, you are powerful. You are linked to Wyeth; you can learn to control him,” she said.

  “I can’t control Wyeth,” he said, startled.

  “The Order can teach you all of this,” she said. “We have been waiting for you. You were destined to come over the wall, destined to come out of that cave. That’s why the boy was waiting.”

  “Hadley is losing operatives every day. We’re fighting a war. I have to go back!” Jack pleaded.

  “No, Jack. There is only death inside the wall.”

  “If the Grays believe I’m the Guardian, then the Great Prophecy says that somehow I’ll win the war,” Jack said. “I don’t understand that. But right now I belong with my friends, at Hadley.”

  “The prophecy says that you will end the Reaper War, Jack,” his mother said slowly. “It does not say that you will win it.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “It is not,” she said earnestly. “Listen to me. The prophecy says you will be a light in a darkened world. A darkened world, Jack. Wyeth will win the war.”

  Jack slowly shook his head. “That can’t be true.”

  “The Guardian will rebuild our civilization. The outcome of the Reaper War has been decided for a millennium. This is only the beginning of the darkness. Stay with us, Jack.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “This is where we will rebuild, together.”

  “I have to go back,” Jack repeated. “I have to.”

  She stared at him for a long moment before she spoke again. “I’m afraid to let you go through that gate.” Her voice was soft now. “I know you are the Guardian. Because of that, I know what going back will cost you. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to bear that.”