Paranormal University: Third Semester: An Unveiled Academy Novel

by Jace Mitchell

  Jack scoffed. He raised a finger in the air. “One, I lift everyone up around me all the time. I’m basically a hot air balloon.”

  “You’re definitely full of hot air,” Sam retorted.

  Jack rolled his eyes, then raised another finger. “Two, if you go, I go. If you don’t like it, go fuck yourself. We’re a team.”

  Remington put both hands out in front of him as if offering a gift. “See what I mean?”

  Marissa nodded begrudgingly. “Okay, fine. Jack comes. That doesn’t mean Sam needs to be involved.” Marissa glanced at her. “And no offense, but a go fuck yourself doesn’t hold as much weight from you as it does the Jack-ass here.”

  Sam raised both eyebrows. “They don’t know?”

  Remington shook his head while Lance remained still.

  Jack stood up, about to blow a gasket. “Know what? All this secrecy shit is going to get someone killed. What don’t we know about her?” He looked at Marissa on his left. “Do you know?”

  He could see her mind was churning, thinking through things that he would never be able to comprehend. After a few moments, Marissa shook her head, and Jack believed her.

  He turned his attention back to the agents. “She may be trying to figure this out on her own, but I’m not. One of you three had better tell us what is going on.”

  Lance leaned forward and waved his hand at the seat. “Calm down. We’re going to tell you, obviously. It’s another reason Dean Pritcham isn’t here.”

  Jack looked back at his seat, considered continuing to rant, and then gave it up. He sat down. “Okay. Go.”

  Remington looked at Sam. “You want to tell them, Sam, or do you want us to?”

  Sam sighed. “You go ahead.”

  Remington nodded. “Sam was brought here for a different reason than most other people—”

  “Can she see Mythers?” Jack interrupted.

  Remington looked at him with impatience. “Every student here can see Mythers. If you just shut up for a second, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  Jack huffed. “Fine. Get on with it.”

  Remington kept the gaze for another second before continuing. “Yes, she can see Mythers. In fact, she’s one of the few we’ve detected in which someone else in her family can see them. He’s older than she is, older than all of you, but—”

  “How’s that possible?” Marissa asked.

  Jack raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to get onto her for interrupting?”

  Remington grinned. “No, I like her. Sam’s father was in the military for decades, so he understands the crucial essence of our work here. He has volunteered a lot of his time explaining this other family member to us. We’ve kept this completely under wraps until now. None of your professors know. The dean doesn’t know. Only us two, Sam, and her father.”

  Jack ran his hands through his hair. “Goodness. This is too much. Fine. Whatever. Two of her family can see Mythers. Is it her father? Because you’re leaving something out, otherwise it makes absolutely no sense that she would come with us.”

  Sam stood up and walked over to the window, everyone watching as she did. “My uncle is one of the cult leaders.”

  “Whaa…” Jack tried to finish the word but failed. He felt like his head might explode from all the information.

  Sam didn’t turn around. “No one has heard from him in years. Uncle Bill. He had thick glasses, and I honestly thought he had Tourette’s. He was always cursing out of nowhere when I was younger. Then he dropped off the map, and no one has seen or heard from him. We’ve heard nothing but rumors.”

  Marissa interlaced her fingers and put both hands on top of her head, looking as exasperated as Jack felt. “Sam is an emotional play. I’m going for my magic. Jack is going because he’s a Jack-ass and won’t not go. Sam is there in case she can be used as a psychological weapon against her uncle?”

  Jack had to smile. Marissa had figured it out, while he’d been nowhere near understanding.

  Remington’s face was solemn. “Yes. That’s why we pushed her ahead in class. Our hope was that when we finally located them, she’d be ready.”

  Jack’s smile remained, though when he turned it on Remington, it felt malicious. “Even though none of us are ready now?”

  Lance stood up. “These are the cards we’ve been handed. I’m sure Dr. Byron told you that you could quit this university if you wanted, and that’s true. However, we’ve got a chance to end it all over the next few weeks. Are you in or out?”

  Jack turned his chair so that it partly faced Marissa. “It’s bullshit, without any doubt, but if you’re in, I’m in.”

  Marissa nodded, her lips thin. “I’m in.”

  Sam turned around from the window. “I’m in.”

  Remington stood up next to his partner. “Okay. Most of the pieces are in play. We have to leave to tidy up the last details, but we’ll be back shortly. Be ready to roll.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The FBI agents weren’t lying. The call had come quickly, and the students had been whisked out of the university.

  The men behind Jack were making him feel like he should have spent a lot more time in the weight room. Each one of them was jacked, and he realized now why the world didn’t want to fuck around with Navy Seals. They could straight kill.

  Jack stood at a table with Marissa and Sam on either side of him. He was the leader now, like it or not, and he was doing his best not to shy away from the role. He kept trying to consider what Claire would do. How would she act? What would she say?

  She’d probably keep the jackass comments to a minimum, he thought, but there’s not much I can do about that.

  Remington and Lance stood against the wall, facing the table, and some guy named Port was on the other side of it.

  A blueprint was spread out on a table in front of the group.

  Port pointed at three different areas. “This is how we’ll be entering the premises. My guys will take the lead. Your job is to follow us and not get in the way until we encounter things we can’t handle.” He looked at the students. “Not following that directive will most certainly result in your deaths. Understand?”

  Sam spoke first, “What do you mean by things you can’t handle?”

  Jack rolled his eyes, exaggerating his annoyance. “She’s a newb. Sorry. He means Mythers. Things bullets don’t work on. Basically, that’s when Marissa here is to use her magic powers to help. You and I, well, we’re emotional support.”

  Clearly, the jokes weren’t going over well because Port’s face was grim. He ignored Jack’s comment. “What I mean is that you will remain protected until we reach either the witch or the god. Then your help will be needed. Understand?”

  Sam nodded. “Got it.”

  The soldier pulled a black marker from his pocket and started drawing lines on the blueprint. “These are the routes we’ll take. We’re keeping you three together, and you’ll be taking this route here.” He circled one of the already drawn lines. “We do not have an understanding of exactly where the targets are inside the premises, so this will be a hunting exercise, thus the multiple routes.”

  Jack’s eyes widened. “We don’t know where anyone is?”

  Remington spoke from behind the soldier. “Griff couldn’t get us information on that. Only the building’s location. We utilized other methods to determine the layout. These men here are the best at what they do, so I suggest you shut up, Jack, because they aren’t as friendly as Lance and me.”

  Jack looked at Port, who was smiling.

  “I’d listen, Jack-ass,” Marissa whispered from his side.

  Jack swallowed and said nothing else.

  Port reached under the table and pulled up a bag. He opened it and started pulling items out. “This is a bulletproof vest. All of you will wear one. These are night-vision goggles—you’ll wear them as well. Each of you will have a standard-issue M17 pistol. You’re not to unholster it unless told since you’re more than likely to shoot one of o
ur guys in the back. Here are the boots and fatigues you’ll be wearing. Any questions?” He looked up, the bag appearing to be empty.

  Jack shook his head. “Seems easy enough.”

  “Easy’s got nothing to do with it, kid,” Port responded. “Now, Marissa, that’s your name, right?”

  Marissa shoved her hands in her pockets. “Yes, sir.”

  Port held her eyes with his own. “I’m told you’ve got a book you plan on carrying with you. Where is it?”

  Marissa hefted the book bag draped over her shoulders.

  A chill went down Jack’s spine as she revealed the Book of Shadows.

  Port’s eyes narrowed. “Good. Now, do you plan on carrying that in the bag, or by hand?”

  Marissa pulled the bag off and placed it on the floor in front of her feet. “By hand. It’s too much effort getting it out if we’re in a jam.”

  Port stared at it for a second, his lips thin. “We’d prefer it to be in the bag. You’re sure it’s necessary to hold it?”

  Marissa nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Okay, then.” Port addressed the men standing at ease against the back wall. “You know your orders. We’re to track down all targets inside the premises. You’re also to make sure these three are not harmed, with the first priority being Marissa and her book. Understand?”

  The response was in unison from all the soldiers. “Yes, sir.”

  Port turned around to look at the agents. “Anything else you need to say?”

  Remington shook his head.

  “We’re good,” Lance responded.

  Port nodded, then addressed the whole room. “We roll out at 0300 hours.”

  Jack had to admit that the cult leaders’ location was strategically placed. There wasn’t any way to bomb or drone the place without a lot of civilians dying. There were houses to the left and right of it, as well as across the street. Each one had short driveways and practically no yard space, making the space extremely tight.

  The actual house was owned by a shell corporation. The FBI was looking into the details, but the financials were tangled up purposefully, so getting any useful information from it would be difficult.

  None of the three students had slept. They were all waiting for the military operation to begin. The three of them were in a small house a block away from the target building. Each of them had a cot. Jack lay on his staring up at the ceiling.

  “This feels different, doesn’t it?” he asked.

  Marissa rolled over onto her side. “Yeah.”

  Jack put his hands over his stomach. “This isn’t our mission. We’re here to assist. Well, you two are here to assist. I’m here because I’m an idiot. Claire’s gone, too. This just seems like… I don’t even know. Like we shouldn’t be here at all.”

  Sam was staring up at the ceiling on her own cot. “You don’t have to go. You could probably tell them you want to stay here, and they’d be grateful.”

  Jack raised his head. “Hush it, Chatty Cathy. I’m free to be an idiot all I want, and so I will continue to be one. I’m going with you. Do something useful and tell us about your Uncle Bill.”

  Sam shook her head. “Marissa, how did you and Claire not kill him?”

  Marissa chuckled. “Patience. A lot of patience.”

  “That’s something I lack,” Sam responded. “Uncle Bill, though? He’s a weird, weird guy. The family hasn’t heard from him since before anyone sighted a Myther.”

  Jack rolled over so that he faced Sam’s bed. “Did you know him before that?”

  Sam nodded, pursing her lips. “Yeah, I did. Before all of this, we all just thought he was weird. Looking back now, what he talked about makes more sense. He was always discussing another universe. Like we’d be at Thanksgiving dinner, and he’d start in about multi-universe theories and that it wouldn’t be so hard to communicate with them. My dad always tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. After a few years of hearing him go on and on, it’s just ridiculously hard to keep listening, especially when you think the guy’s insane.”

  Jack glanced at Marissa. “They’ve been lying to us since the beginning. They knew what was happening, or at least more than they were telling us.”

  Marissa’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Jack scoffed. “They told us they didn’t know why the Veil was tearing. Apparently, it’s old Uncle Bill and friends. They’re the ones doing it, probably all of them are able to see Mythers. The FBI knew that and didn’t tell us.”

  Sam shook her head. “No one knows that for sure. Bill talked about other universes, and maybe he could see things that the rest of us couldn’t, but that doesn’t mean he started tearing it.”

  “Hold on,” Jack interrupted. “What all did he see?”

  Sam shrugged and pursed her lips again, obviously in thought. “I don’t know what he saw. I know what he talked about. Looking back on it now, it sounded like he was describing Mount Olympus. A place among the clouds. Up until I saw a Myther, we all thought he was crazy.”

  Jack laughed. “I want to meet him.”

  Sam shook her head. “No, you don’t. I’m surprised this cult crew hangs out with him at all. He’s… He’s off, Jack. Really, really off.”

  “Are you scared of him?” Jack asked.

  Sam didn’t say anything for long moments. “Yeah. He’s a psychopath. I didn’t know it back then, but that’s what I believe now. He’s involved in this cult, plus everything else he used to do. He’s a psychopath, and most likely, everyone working with him is, too.”

  Jack laughed again. “You know, Marissa, Sam’s gloom and doom makes you seem almost positive.”

  “Careful, or I’ll get up and knock your lights out,” Sam scolded.

  Jack was about to say something smart back, but the knock on the door shut them all up.

  “Time to go,” came the deep voice from the other side.

  The van stopped next to the sidewalk. Ten people sat inside shoulder to shoulder. Jack wore his night-vision goggles atop his head but knew he’d shortly be pulling them down. The van was silent, and Jack couldn’t tell if anyone other than him was scared. Remington and Lance sat a bit further down on Jack’s side, so he couldn’t see what their faces looked like.

  Port was with Jack’s group. The microphone on his neck crackled. “Fox Team in place.”

  Port leaned his mouth down to the microphone. “Roger. Wolf Team in place. On my word.”

  He pulled his head up and looked at across the van. “Weapons ready.” His eyes fell on the students. “Remember your role. Stay out of our way and within protective reach until we need you at the front. We will tell you when we need you.”

  “Yes, sir,” the three answered in unison.

  Jack kept his mouth shut after that. I’m not making any smart-ass remarks right now. I think this guy would shoot me and then step over my body as he went inside that house.

  Port stood and walked to the back of the van.

  Jack leaned over to Marissa on his left. “You okay?”

  “Hell, no,” she whispered back. “But when has that ever mattered?”

  Jack grinned. “Good point. It doesn’t. Just remember what they said, Sissy. Stay close to me and you’ll be protected the whole way.”

  Marissa elbowed him. “No one said that, nor will they ever. I’d be dead before I got off this van if I listened to that advice.”

  Jack chuckled and then leaned to his right to check on Sam. “How are you feeling?”

  Sam didn’t look at him as she spoke. “Like I just ate a pack of razor blades.”

  Jack nodded with a smile. “Good. You’re right where you should be.” He leaned in closer so that no one else could hear him. “You’re brave. This is going to get scary, but just—you’re brave to be here at all.”

  She reached down and touched his knee. “Thank you.”

  Jack chuckled as he straightened. “Don’t get soft on me now. We got a god to kill.”

  Port gave a hand signal, and
all of his soldiers stood as one.

  “Here we go,” Jack whispered as those on his side of the van stood.

  Port leaned his head slightly toward the microphone. “On me. Three, two, one. Go.”

  The van’s back door flew open and the Seals filed out. Jack stepped up in front of Sam, following closely behind the last soldier. “You get in between the military guys and Marissa,” he told her as he passed.

  Jack dropped out of the van and hustled to keep up. These dudes move fast.

  They reached the house’s front door, the night silent around them. Jack could see nothing moving inside, but that didn’t mean anything at all.

  Port placed a small charge on the door, pressed a button, then stepped back. The explosion was somewhat muffled, but most likely, it would have woken up anyone inside.

  “Goggles down.” Port snapped his own goggles over his face.

  Jack did likewise. I’m just along for the fucking ride, he thought as the soldiers rushed inside the house. The world was a bright green for Jack, and he could only see the backs of the people in front of him. He heard doors being kicked in and then the yells of “Clear!” They kept moving, and all Jack wanted to do was pull the pistol out from his side, but he remembered the instructions.

  Don’t do it.

  “Clear!”

  They came to a staircase, and Jack kept following. He felt for Marissa behind him.

  “I’m here!” she yelled at him.

  “Damn it! Hoped we had lost ya!” he yelled back, really hoping that the soldiers didn’t hear him talking shit and put some holes in him.

  They reached the top of the landing and took a left. More rooms. More screams of the rooms being cleared.

  Eventually, they came back to the landing. Jack remembered the blueprint and knew that they’d cleared the entire area they were responsible for. Port leaned down to his microphone. “Wolf Team cleared. Fox Team, status?”

  They were down in the basement—or at least that’s where they should have been. No response came back over the microphone.

  Port’s face grew stern. “Fox Team, this is Wolf. Sitrep?”