The Academy: Book 1

by Leito, Chad

  McCoy and Conway, on the other hand, loaded up their plates as though they were picking things out for entire families to eat. They both took more than two serving of each item, piling the things high up on their plate. Asa thought that it would be impossible for either of them to eat what they had served themselves. The beautiful girl ate nothing. Asa took a muffin. He wasn’t hungry, but he didn’t want to seem rude.

  Conway spoke as he ate. “Did you hear about the angel sighting?”

  Varbas blew on his stew. “No, what happened?”

  Conway continued. “Somewhere in North Dakota there was a couple on the news. They said they saw an angel flying over their farmland. They produced a blurry cell phone video. You can see a dark object flying through the air.”

  “One of our guys?” Dr. Varbas asked.

  Conway shrugged. “There’s no way to know. The video is pretty blurry.”

  McCoy spoke through a mouthful of sandwich. He was shoveling food into his mouth as though he had been starved for a couple of days prior to the meal. “They can’t prove anything! The couple who saw it was hicks. People are always saying that they’ve seen aliens, or that the Virgin Mary was burned into their toast. It’s ridiculous.”

  “Not when it’s true,” Conway said. He looked around the table and caught eyes with everyone but Asa. He hadn’t looked at Asa the whole meal.

  “Was anyone from the Academy deployed to that area?” Dr. Varbas asked. He sat his spoon down and rested his chin in his hands.

  “Yeah. Kelly was supposed to visit their water purifying sight. Apparently there’s some no-name there that’s been running a lot of tests.”

  “Does the Boss know?” Varbas asked.

  “We’ll find out,” Conway said.

  They didn’t talk for the rest of the meal. The beautiful girl remained still with her arms crossed, Dr. Varbas relaxed with his head in his hands, and McCoy and Conway finished everything on their plate over the course of the next hour. Asa chewed his muffin slowly and watched them. How are they eating so much? And how are they not morbidly obese? He played the last conversation over in his mind and tried to figure out where he was.

  5

  The Train Ride

  Shortly after the meal was finished, Dr. Varbas stood up, excused himself, and left the dining room, coughing as he went.

  Every ounce of food had been eaten off of the massive table. Stew bowls sat empty except for a small amount of broth, lobsters had been emptied out, and the sandwich plate was clean of everything but bread crumbs.

  Conway was asleep at the table. He had pushed his plate forward and was resting his head atop his forearms. His muscular abdomen bulged beneath the black fabric, but neither he nor McCoy seemed to be in any great distress after eating the incredible amount of food.

  Asa first felt the sensation. A low rumble began in the floor, softly shaking the table. Asa could see the water moving in his water bottle with the vibrations. Then he heard it. There was a low whining sound that seemed to come from everywhere at once. It was quiet and low at first, and then it amplified until it was a deafening scream and there was the squeal of metal on metal.

  Conway shot up, startled, and his chair fell to the ground. He hollered in surprise and Asa saw panic in his eyes. It wasn’t until the noise had stopped and everything had calmed down that Asa was able to process what was coming out of the man’s back.

  The beautiful girl was looking at the protrusions as well, her eyes scanning up and down the details. She was pasted to the back of her chair in shock, trying to stay away from the man who had kidnapped her, and who she didn’t understand.

  McCoy seemed completely unruffled by the unusual sight.

  Black wings came out of the man’s back. The wings were much bigger than any depicted on the painted angels around them. They spanned twelve feet on either side of the man’s body, with five separate slightly concave chambers on each side to catch the air. Small, thin black hairs bristled along the surface. The wings were the thickest at the top, where a series of strong bones curtained the thinner parts of the wings.

  Conway was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling. His teeth were barred, and seemed to be looking around the room for someone to kill. His legs were spread wide, and his knees were slightly bent. He held his arms flexed and his hands balled into fists. He didn’t even look like the same calm and composed man Asa had met on the boat earlier in the day.

  “Calm down, Conway. It’s just the train,” McCoy said. He turned to the beautiful girl and Asa. “He’s got post traumatic stress disorder, he just won’t admit it.”

  “I DO NOT!” Conway growled. His wings began to contract back in around his spine.

  McCoy shrugged. “You’ve been through trauma and now loud noises scare you. They cause you stress. Sounds like posttraumatic stress disorder to me. Let’s go, that’s our train. I don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”

  McCoy, Asa, and the beautiful girl stood, and Conway continued to pant. There was a light sweat on his forehead and he still looked shaken.

  “Take them yourself, McCoy,” Conway said. “I’ll catch the next train,” and he stomped out of the room and slammed the huge oak door behind him.

  When he was gone McCoy said, “that’s one bad thing about this job. A lot of people get mental problems; you’ve got to see and do things that some people just can’t handle. There’s no way to know if it will send you over the edge until you’re in that situation. This way, c’mon.”

  He led them out another oak door opposite the one Conway disappeared behind. They were in a long hallway with arched glass that made the walls and ceiling. All around them, the glass was dark and at first Asa couldn’t discern what he was looking out into. Then, he looked up and saw shimmering water hundreds of yards above them and realized that they were in an underwater bridge at the bottom of King’s Lake. He marveled at the fact that he had drifted all the way to the bottom, thinking that he was going to die a mere two hours ago. They could see fish swimming above them, and in the distance a motorboat was making its way over the water.

  “Where exactly are we?” Asa asked.

  “Alfatrex Station Number 63. Didn’t Varbas tell you?”

  “Yes, but what does that mean? Where are we going and why did you take us? What do you do? Who are you people?”

  McCoy flashed a smile as he walked underneath the glass arch. “I can’t answer a lot of what you’re asking, partly because of protocol and partly because I just don’t know. I can tell you that you’ve been selected to be a part of something really exciting. It’s called the Academy. You’ve never heard of it, I know. I think something like forty percent of the Academy’s function is to make sure that no one knows what it is. You can work for the Academy for fifty years and still never know exactly what it does. Each member is given very specific assignments, and they follow out those assignments. They’re given information on a need-to-know basis. Academy members don’t need to see the big picture. You’re asking me big picture questions and I just don’t know.”

  Their footsteps echoed along the tile as they walked. Asa had gathered enough from McCoy’s body language and his relationship to Conway to predict that he was someone who was willing to give out more information than perhaps was appropriate. He feared that whenever they reached whatever train they were walking to that he may not have another opportunity to ask questions freely. So, he decided to take a chance and ask McCoy what was on his mind.

  “Who is Harold Kensing and what does he have to do with all this?”

  “Who?” McCoy asked.

  “Officer Harold Kensing. He was trying to kill me this morning. He pulled me over last night and…”

  McCoy stopped walking and faced Asa. He seemed concerned, almost scared. “What do you mean? A police officer?”

  Asa felt the girl’s green eyes watching him. “Yes, a police officer tried to kill me. He held a gun to my head and said that people wanted me dead.”

  “What else did he say?” Mc
Coy glanced both ways down the hall to check for unwanted ears.

  “He said that they wanted me dead because of my father or something. He said that the fishy place couldn’t protect me. He was insane, really. He said that they had a file on me or something. He said that people with black gums and tongues wanted me dead.”

  McCoy ran a hand through his head and cursed. He looked at the girl and Asa.

  “What does that mean? Does it have anything to do with where I am?” Asa asked.

  “I don’t know,” McCoy said, shaking his head. He looked serious, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. Light from the shimmering water above projected onto McCoy in calm, blue, undulating tones. “I’m going to say something off of the record, and if either of you two ever quote me I will lie and say that this conversation never happened. Do you two understand?”

  Asa nodded. The beautiful girl just stared.

  “Charlotte, do you understand?” McCoy repeated.

  Charlotte nodded, her green eyes locked on McCoy.

  Charlotte, Asa repeated the name in his mind.

  “Asa, don’t tell anyone about what happened to you, okay? Where you’re going, there are people…” he paused. “they’re not bad people, but… they might not know what’s best. Just be careful, okay? Don’t go telling everyone that story. Only share it with those that you trust. You too, Charlotte. Keep quiet about what you heard.” He stole another glance down both sides of the hallway. He looked pained, conflicted. “And, I’m not supposed to tell you two this, but be careful. You two especially. Out of everyone in the Academy, you two kids are in the most danger. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t understand it all, okay? But please be careful. Conway would die if he knew I told you this. Don’t share what I’ve just told you with anyone you don’t trust with your life. I’m only trying to help.”

  Charlotte and Asa nodded, dumbstruck by what had just been said.

  “This conversation is over, and as far as I’m concerned, it never happened.”

  They were walking again beneath the waters of King’s Lake. Asa and Charlotte shared a glance. The girl looked concerned, confused, and worried.

  When they reached the end of the hallway they saw they were in a small train station, with some slight variations to the traditional model. There were four rails attached to the train—one on each corner. The metal was thick, and black, and well oiled. The rails ran through slots in each car that were one foot long. The train was small, but very long. Each car was only big enough to hold one person, like a motorcycle sidecar.

  McCoy led the way and they walked parallel with the train. There were hundreds of cars in the long line, each with a person looking out of their car at Asa, McCoy, and Charlotte as they walked. Asa saw that some of the people were in black suits like McCoy, but most of them were in normal clothes, and seemed to be about the same age as Charlotte and Asa. The children looked out of the thick, yellow tinted glass with expressions of concern, and fright.

  Finally, near the end of the row of cars, they came upon vacant vessels. The thick glass windows had opened up towards the ceiling, and leather seats and thick straps and buckles waited for them. Charlotte got into the first, Asa got into the second, and McCoy got into the one behind them.

  Once Asa was inside the vessel and he had clicked in the six appropriate buckles (they locked in around his chest, waist, and then the chest and had straps that combined the whole thing together) the glass lowered and then locked with a low hiss. The seatbelts tightened around Asa automatically, and he looked around the cabin.

  The seat he was sitting in supple black leather that conformed to his body. His legs stretched down into a narrow, dark opening before him. His seat reclined automatically, putting his feet further forward into the dark of the cabin, and making it so that he was facing up, towards the yellowed glass. In the train station ceiling above him, the fluorescent lights were dimmed by the train car’s glass. Refreshments were ready for him on the sides of the car. There were bags of pretzels, chilled juices and waters, and a small refrigerator carved into the leather with cups of fruit carved inside. Above him, right below the yellow glass was a dashboard with a series of dials and screens showing information.

  There was a series of buttons with which you could adjust the temperature and fan speed. Next to this sat a channel and volume button. Above this was an electronic screen that displayed the time—9:26AM—and the traveling speed—0 miles per hour.

  Asa felt the train car begin to lift, and felt a vibration below that told him they were about to take off. He was nervous. He had no idea where he was going, what a ride in this machine would be like, or how long they would be traveling. In fact, he didn’t even know if he would be traveling. He didn’t know where he was—he couldn’t trust these people! He looked at the air vents and remembered how the Nazi’s prisoners had been led to the showers where they would die. The situation was exactly the same, only modern. Asa and all of these children had been stolen from their homes to do some kind of undefined work.

  He felt his heart began to beat in his chest, and now that he was alone all of the emotions he had felt the last few days were coming back to him. He was terrified, and tired, and being forced to go somewhere against his will. Sure, he wasn’t pushed into the cart, but what was he supposed to do, run? McCoy had carried him for over a mile earlier in the day, demonstrating strength beyond the capacity of a normal man. And Conway had wings. There was no running when it came to these people.

  The vibrating grew louder and he clenched the armrests until his fingers turned white.

  Why didn’t the crows stop McCoy? Did they think they weren’t powerful enough? Why didn’t they try? They were Asa’s protectors, and they sat idle while someone stole him and dropped him to the bottom of a reservoir.

  What do they know? How could they know what’s going on?

  And who sent Officer Harold Kensing? Who are the people with black gums?

  And who was that dog?

  The train shot forward, and Asa held his breath as he watched the speedometer rise. His body was pressed back against the leather, his stomach had dropped, and he was holding his breath.

  The machine settled in at a little over 600 miles per hour, or at least that’s what the speedometer told Asa. As they reached top speed, the sensation wasn’t as great, and Asa’s grip loosened on the arm rests.

  Asa found that he was crying. Outside the yellow glass was pitch dark, and Asa couldn’t discern a thing. He was hyperventilating, feeling all the emotions that had been suppressed since he was pulled over by Harold Kensing wash over him. He wanted it to all be over, he wanted to know what was happening, and he wanted to be safe. He cried for all of these things, but what bothered him most was the loss of control. He wanted to be able decide to go home if he wanted to. He wanted to be able to stop this train, get up, and walk away without being hunted down by the creatures McCoy and Conway. He wanted to be able to see his mother again.

  As he rode, he felt completely powerless. He felt as though he had little or no say as to where his life was going.

  He cried like that for ten minutes and then worked to regain his composure. Asa had no idea when they would be stopping, and he didn’t want to look weak and sobbing whenever they reached at their destination. He breathed air deep into his lungs and closed his eyes.

  Visions began to flash in front of him and he shook his head, warding off dreams. Despite his fatigue, he didn’t feel comfortable falling asleep in such a compromising situation.

  Asa reached up and pressed the power button on the console. Instantly, the yellow glass in front of him became a television screen and he was watching the Channel Six News. A tall, blond woman was sitting behind a desk. She was covered in makeup, but it wasn’t helping. Anyone could see that she was exhausted, and losing weight. Her eyes were yellow, and she seemed strained to smile. She was dying of the Wolf Flu.

  “More on that in a moment,” she said, trying to seem perky. “Now, we’re going to transfer you live
to North Dakota where our correspondent Amy Kelly is standing live with the Burk family who have an amazing story to tell. Amy.”

  The screen switched to Amy Kelly, a black woman in a red suit standing on a farm. There was a barn in the distant background, and a soft wind was playing with her hair. Beside her stood a man and a woman. The man was wearing overalls with a pearl snap shirt beneath it. He looked healthy. The woman was wearing a denim dress with brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Dangling, beaded multicolor earrings hung from her lobes like fishing lures. She showed all the classic signs of a Wolf Flu victim—her eyes were yellow, her cheeks were sunken in, and a light sweat could be seen on her forehead, thanks to the high definition cameras. The thing that Asa, and everyone who mentally diagnosed others with the Wolf Flu noticed was the fatigue. It seemed as though the life was being drained from the woman as she stood there. She held her head forward, as though her neck was too tired to hold it up. Her eyes looked like she had been awake in a war zone for the last three days. All the muscles in her face were limp with exhaustion. Asa guessed that she would have another week to live, if she was lucky.

  “Thank you Erin,” Amy Kelly began. She smiled and seemed to be overflowing with vitality. “I’m standing here with Bud and Vanessa Burk, the man and woman who first informed the world of the Burk Farm Angel, which is now an internet sensation. The video they posted last week now has ten million hits! What do you think has brought on the success?”

  She held her microphone out in front of the couple. Bud took the initiative and began to speak. “Well, Amy, I think that there’s no secret about the matter. To be frank, I think that people aren’t stupid.

  “Vanessa called me out into the kitchen and there she stood, recording something out the window on her cellular phone. I walked over to the sink, stood beside my wife, and when I saw the darned thing I go, ‘Yee Gods!’ I think that people can tell the difference between something fake and authentic. This is authentic.”