The Academy Defenders

by T. J. Robinson

  The motorcycle obstacle was next. He stood at the entrance, watching the motorcycles zip around the dirt. “Come on, Link!” he heard Jack yell. Lincoln took a final deep breath and dashed forward, expecting to be knocked to the ground at any second. One motorcycle bumped him from behind, but through sheer luck he managed to stay on his feet. He made it through to the other side without being hit again, and from there finished the rest of the course without any major problems.

  Lincoln crossed the finish line and looked up at the clock. 25:33. It had taken him double the amount of time it had taken Jack. Still, Lincoln had finished, and he hadn’t been last either. Three recruits didn’t even finish, and two others finished with times slower than his.

  The last recruit finished, and Miss Grimes dismissed them for dinner. Lincoln was exhausted. His sweaty shirt clung to his back. All he wanted to do was eat a quick dinner and go take a nice, long shower. He was halfway to the cafeteria when Skylar suddenly appeared at his side.

  “You were awesome today,” he told her. She had been the second fastest recruit, behind only Jack.

  “Thanks,” she said. “You did a good job too.” Lincoln gave her an exasperated look. “Well, at least you didn’t finish last,” she added. “And besides, you kick all of our butts in rite control.”

  “Can you believe Jack made the plaque?” grumbled Lincoln.

  “I’m just surprised he’s not already number one. What was with you getting all weirded out when you first saw the plaque anyway?”

  Lincoln glanced around making sure no one else was listening before whispering, “Olivia Stone’s my mom.”

  “No way!” Skylar whispered back.

  “Don’t tell the others,” Lincoln pleaded. The last thing he needed was more pressure. Everyone already expected too much from him because of his Grandpa. “I just wish some of her talent would’ve ended up in my genes.”

  “Your body just needs a little more time to catch up with your new powers,” Skylar sympathized. “My legs are still a little sore from our run-in with Banks and his crew. Good thing those pills from Mr. Spencer helped. How are you feeling?”

  “Sore all over,” answered Lincoln. “But I think it’s from Miss Grimes’s demonstration.” They both laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Jack asked, joining them on their way to dinner.

  “My pathetic skills on the obstacle course,” answered Lincoln.

  Jack gave him a hard slap on the shoulder. “You’re doing fine. Besides, who needs to run fast when you can throw people across a room with a wall of air?”

  The two of them continued to tell Lincoln how unimportant combat training was all through dinner and as they did their homework together in the great room. He climbed into bed that night hoping they were right.

  BOGGS walked toward them, sword in hand, his scar gleaming as he smiled at Lincoln and his mother. Lincoln tried to stop him with an air shield, but it was impossible. Something blocked him from using his power. Boggs laughed and shoved Lincoln out of the way, grabbing his mother by the throat.

  “Where is it?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know,” she stammered.

  “You’re lying,” he screamed, shaking her viciously. There was nothing Lincoln could do. His control over the rites was gone, and without it, he was no match for the crazed man in front of him.

  CRASH!

  Lincoln woke as he fell off his bed. He was covered in sweat, shaking with fear and rage. He walked to his bathroom and filled a glass with cool water, downing it in three big gulps. Was this dream nothing more than his fears playing out inside his mind, or was it a sign of things to come? He barely slept the rest of the night. The haunting images from his nightmare seemed to return every time he shut his eyes.

  The next morning, Lincoln found Milo and Skylar talking excitedly in the great room. Milo waved as soon as he saw Lincoln. Lincoln hurried over and sat next to Skylar, who made room for him on the couch.

  “What’s all the fuss about?” Lincoln asked.

  “So you haven’t heard?” said Milo, his eyes gleaming.

  “What?” asked Lincoln warily, remembering last week’s big news. Milo and Sean had snuck out one night and dug a pit along one of the academy paths. They filled the hole with muddy water and then covered it with leaves. Several unsuspecting victims fell into the hole, including Mr. Worthington, who had been livid, and from what Lincoln heard, suspected Milo of the prank. Mr. Worthington had no evidence, but Lincoln could almost guarantee Mr. Worthington had some type of lie detector among his G2s. In Lincoln’s opinion, the less he knew about Milo’s pranks, the better off they both were.

  “Someone broke into the academy last night,” Milo answered. “Whoever it was set off the alarm and the Keepers chased them away. Mr. Rockwell suspended all training exercises in Sector 8 while the Keepers investigate. Crazy, huh?”

  Maybe it was because of his dream, but Lincoln immediately thought of Boggs, wondering if the assassin was somehow involved. “I’m going to check my e-mail.” He stood back up, and Skylar watched him curiously as he hurried to his room.

  Lincoln logged on and skimmed an e-mail his parents had sent late last night. They had just gotten home from Wisconsin following Grandpa’s funeral and were doing fine. Lincoln felt a twinge of guilt. He had wanted to be at the funeral, but his parents had been worried it may be too dangerous. He sent a reply, telling his parents about the break-in and asking if they had learned any more about Grandpa’s death or Boggs. He turned off his computer and hurried to class, hoping his parents would get back to him soon.

  Mr. Rockwell lifted the suspension of training in Sector 8 two days after the attempted break-in. Lincoln’s parents replied to his e-mail the day after that, telling him to focus on his training. They assured him that several competent Guardians were working hard on the case, tracking any leads.

  Lincoln knew his parents were hiding things from him, but what could he do? Nothing. So he did as he was asked and focused on his training, although he still woke up from time to time shaking with fear and drenched in sweat following yet another nightmare.

  He slowly grew accustomed to the academy routine. He spent his mornings in classes, his afternoons in training, and his nights doing homework. The only breaks were Saturday mornings, when he and his friends would gather at the arena for the newest game offered by the staff. Right now, that game was Commando-Ball, a hybrid version of Dodge Ball played with hard-balls the size of tennis balls. The arena had been completely changed. The tower and pond were gone, replaced by several wooden forts used for cover during Commando-Ball. The game was a total blast, and as usual, Jack dominated.

  Skylar and Jack competed ferociously in Miss Grimes’s training sessions. Whenever Skylar did something impressive, Jack seemed to do just enough to beat her. This drove her crazy. She often left their training sessions with a dark scowl and a grumpy attitude that stuck with her for most of the night.

  The first-years spent at least one day every two weeks on the obstacle course. Most recruits could now reach the ladders for the middle walls. Skylar had joined Jack on the plaque several weeks ago, and Jack was getting closer and closer to the all-time record. Lincoln’s time was slowly improving, though he was still in the bottom third of the class.

  Where Lincoln continued to shine, however, was rite training. Mr. Spencer seemed to be constantly watching him, expecting something remarkable, and most of the time, he didn’t disappoint. Lincoln enjoyed the attention. It was the first time he had ever experienced it. He spent most of his free time studying the Rite Control manual, wanting to stay ahead of the rest of the class. The only area of rite control where Lincoln struggled was with using the life rite. Healing made him squeamish.

  The morning routine was less enjoyable. The classes were tough and the teachers seemed to think more homework meant better students. Lincoln often wished he had Milo’s guilt-free conscience and could finagle a few of his classmates into doing it for him.

  By now, Lincoln
and his friends were inseparable. Milo and Sean kept everyone else entertained with their pranks and constant banter. Kennedy was the only one who could slow them down whenever they got out of hand, something that seemed to happen at least once a day. Guga was quiet without being timid. He was the peacekeeper of the group. For the first time in his life, Lincoln felt like he fit in, and it felt great.

  CHAPTER 10

  SQUAD TRYOUTS

  AS OCTOBER CAME TO AN END, LINCOLN’S friends turned their focus to the upcoming Atlas Challenge. Simon announced tryouts for the squad would be held at the north shore of the lake the following Saturday morning. After some persuasion, Milo convinced Lincoln to try out for the squad.

  Saturday morning arrived. Lincoln and his friends, except for Kennedy, met at the lakeshore with the other forty or so recruits who were also trying out. Kennedy was convinced Simon had already picked the squad and refused to go to a “fake tryout.” Now that he was there, Lincoln wondered if she was right. Simon and a group of fourth- and fifth-year recruits sat apart from the others. He was whispering something to them. Banks and his friend Jeffrey, the only other first-years Lincoln had seen at the tryouts, were standing near the group, leaning forward as he tried to hear what Simon was whispering.

  How had he let Milo convince him to come? He had no shot at making the squad and would embarrass himself if he tried. Lincoln turned toward his friends, ready to tell them he had changed his mind and was going back to the dormitory, but before he could say anything, Simon began to speak.

  “Welcome to tryouts. As you know, this year’s event will be the Atlas Hunt. The Hunt is a dangerous Challenge, and I thank each of you for your courage and willingness to compete for Finn. The tryouts today will consist of a series of challenges testing the skills you’ll need if you want to be on my squad. Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Simon had the recruits spread out along the lakeshore and ran them through a series of drills ranging from sparring techniques to swimming across the lake. The morning had been a little chilly, and Lincoln had worn one of his hoodies. He discarded it by the lake a few minutes into the first drill. As the recruits went from one drill to the next, Simon wandered among them, cutting the group down one by one. At one point, he paused in front of Lincoln and his partner to watch them spar. Lincoln had been paired with one of Simon’s fourth-year friends. Although he was overmatched, he defended himself well enough that Simon let him stay.

  A half hour later, Simon stopped the tryouts. There were now only sixteen recruits left, and to Lincoln’s surprise, Jeffrey was the only first-year who hadn’t made it. The others were Milo, two third-years, Trevor, Simon, and his seven friends. Neither Sean nor Guga had made it. The fifteen others gathered around Simon, who now had a black duffel bag lying on the ground beside him.

  “Earlier, I spoke with Mr. Rockwell and received permission to use Sector 8 for the final part of our tryouts.” Simon held up a bunch of blue and grey striped wristbands and passed them around the group. “Put these on and don’t take them off. They’ll let you pass through the Barrier into Sector 8.”

  Lincoln grabbed one of the wristbands and snapped it around his wrist, tugging to make sure it wouldn’t accidentally fall off.

  “The wristbands have a small, black button on top.” Lincoln looked at the button as Simon continued. “If you need help, press the top and bottom of the button together for two seconds. This sends an alarm to the Keepers, but it also eliminates you from the tryouts.”

  Simon reached into his bag and pulled out his map of the Academy, a small, stone statuette of the Finn eagle, and several backpacks. As the other recruits each took one of the backpacks, Simon spread out his map along the ground. He pointed to a spot on the map. “I asked Bernie to hide seven of these statues in the mountain terrain. The seven recruits who return with a statue will join me on the Finn squad. Follow me.”

  They followed Simon along the shoreline, eventually breaking away and heading west. After another few minutes of walking, they arrived at the edge of Sector 8. The green Barrier rose straight into the air, higher than the eye could see. Jack looked at Lincoln and gave him a relaxed smile. Nothing rattled that kid.

  Skylar, on the other hand, was anything but relaxed. Like a runner before the start of a race, she bounced up and down nervously, rubbing her arms with her hands as she did so. She saw Lincoln watching her and gave him an anxious nod. He thought she might puke.

  “Final check,” shouted Simon. “Everyone have your wristbands?” They all nodded. “Alright, at the sound of my whistle, the hunt begins.” A few seconds later, the whistle shrilled and the recruits sprinted across the Barrier.

  Lincoln felt as though he had entered a new world. The temperature was considerably cooler on the Sector 8 side of the Barrier. He wished he still had his hoodie with him. The ground sloped upward. Large boulders and pine trees speckled the land. Deciding that the first thing he should do was separate from his competitors, Lincoln slowed down and veered to his left.

  Ten minutes later, he was alone on the mountainside, wandering aimlessly and desperately hoping to stumble upon one of the eagles. He did this for another ten minutes before spotting a large tree and changing tactics.

  He ran to the bottom of the tree. Its lowest branch was at least fifteen feet high, but with Lincoln’s practice on the obstacle course, he easily reached it in a single jump. From there, he climbed to the top of the tree, more than a hundred feet into the air, and tried to scan the area below. Unfortunately, the surrounding trees blocked his view.

  Disappointed, Lincoln climbed back down the tree. He was almost to the bottom when he heard a branch snap and looked upward, wondering if another recruit had copied his idea.

  It was no recruit. Crouched on branches near the top of the tree, Lincoln spotted two giant mountain lions staring at him, each more than twice his size. They jumped from one branch to the next, coming closer and closer.

  One of them snarled. The sound echoed back and forth off the surrounding mountains. The cat’s snarl exposed a pair of very long, very sharp teeth. Lincoln gasped as he realized these weren’t mountain lions. They were saber-toothed tigers! How was that possible? They had been extinct for thousands of years, hadn’t they?

  Lincoln fell to the branch below. The nearest sabertooth leaped from the tree to the ground. Lincoln was now trapped between the two of them.

  He reached for the distress button on his wristband, but then he pulled his hand away. He could almost hear the taunts Banks would hurl in his direction if he chickened out. Instead, he grabbed the mayoke hidden in his pocket and transformed it into a long, wooden sword.

  Lincoln considered his options. Whatever he did, he needed to do it quickly. This wasn’t a time to mess around. The saber-tooth on the ground was moving closer to the tree. It was time to use the rites. He accessed his powers, decreased the gravity on himself, and jumped, shooting upward at an incredible speed. As he neared the saber-tooth above him, Lincoln slashed with his sword. The saber-tooth fell, crashed through several branches, and hit the ground with a thud.

  The second saber-tooth snarled and pounced high into the air. It landed on a branch and swiped a giant paw at Lincoln. He turned away, and the claws raked across his back. Searing pain hit him and he nearly fell to the ground, regaining his balance just in time and leaping higher up the tree. The saber-tooth climbed up the tree trunk. Lincoln shot an air blast at it. Undeterred, the giant cat continued climbing. He would have to do better than that.

  Lincoln increased the force of gravity on the sabertooth. It stopped climbing, rooting its claws into the tree trunk. Lincoln pushed even harder. The sabertooth slid a few inches, its claws scraping furrows in the rough bark. Lincoln shot another air blast into its face. It roared in pain and released its claws from the tree. With nothing to hold it, the saber-tooth crashed to the ground, hitting with such force that Lincoln heard its bones crunch.

  Lincoln let out a deep breath and slowly climbed down the tree. Hi
s back was damp and sticky with blood and burned with pain. He looked at the two giant bodies lying on the forest floor. He was lucky to be alive. What was he thinking when he decided not to signal the Keepers?

  Just then, the Atlas bells tolled the pre-arranged signal that tryouts were over. Lincoln looked at his watch. The search had ended in less than an hour. He felt a surge of disappointment. He couldn’t believe all seven statues had already been found. At least you’re still alive, he told himself. He made the trek back out of Sector 8, joining the rest of the recruits on the other side of the Barrier.

  Most of the others were already there, including Jack and Milo, who were lined up with five other recruits holding statues in their hands. Banks stood nearby, glaring at them. Trevor was bent over, statue-less and panting from exertion. Skylar stood away from the others, her head bowed. Lincoln walked over to her.

  “You okay?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes moist with tears. “I wanted this so bad,” she whispered. “This was going to be my chance to prove to everyone what I can do.”

  “We’ve got four more years to be in the Challenge, and trust me, everybody already knows what you can do. You don’t need to prove yourself to anybody.”

  Bernie and Otis met the recruits at the edge of Sector 8, collecting the wristbands. Worried he might get in trouble for not signaling for help, Lincoln didn’t say a word about the saber-toothed tigers and threw his hoodie back on to hide the claw marks. After verifying all sixteen wristbands were accounted for, the two Keepers led the recruits to two giant pickup trucks. The fourth- and fifth-years rode in one truck bed, the younger recruits in the other.