The Academy: Book 2

by Leito, Chad

  Why would the Academy want there to be liquor here? Asa thought. He was beginning to wonder if the Multipliers from the Hive had a hand in the organization of this event.

  Asa and Jen sat at a table. Raccoons brought them glasses of wine. Asa didn’t take a sip of his, but just sat it on the table. He didn’t like illicit drugs or alcohol; he thought that they were maladaptive. The only drug he used regularly was caffeine, and he hoped that it would stay that way. And, tonight is especially not a good time for me to start a new habit of drinking. I don’t need to be handling bombs while I’m drunk.

  Jen didn’t seem to feel the same way as Asa. She sipped on the glass of wine in the first few minutes they talked, as other students began to fill into the hall. Charlotte passed behind them, and gave Asa another meaningful glance that he couldn’t decipher.

  Asa watched as Jen drank the wine and thought about how she was bolder than Charlotte. Asa didn’t think that Charlotte would be a person who would like alcohol, but he was quickly proven incorrect on this assumption as he watched her from across the room.

  He saw a raccoon in a tie walk over to their table and hand Charlotte a glass of red wine. He expected her to do as he had done, and put the glass on the table, still full. But before she sat it down, she not only took a sip, but she tipped the stem up and drank the whole glass. Asa found this extremely odd. It’s like she knows she’s going to die tonight, Asa thought, and felt a chill go up his spine. Charlotte looked at him again with her sad, knowing eyes, and then made her way across the room to the refreshment table.

  A live jazz band was taking the stage. There were five members, all male; there was a clarinet player, a trumpet player, a trombone player, a percussionist, and a pianist. They kicked off the night with a lively, fast moving song as students took their seats, were served wine, and began to talk.

  Jen looked at Asa. She appeared to be having such a good time, and Asa reflected with some jealousy that she wasn’t about to go to the Multipliers lair. Asa honestly believed that Jen either didn’t pick up on what Allen had said to Bruce regarding attacking tonight, or that she thought he was lying. There is no other explanation. She looks relaxed; she wouldn’t be that way if she thought that she was about to be killed. “So what did Robert King say to you? All the Sharks were wondering.”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Asa said. He looked across the room and saw Roxanne entering the hall. Travis was by her side, smiling, showing black gums. Asa hated him. She should be with Bruce, he thought.

  “That’s fine, I understand you not wanting to talk about it.” Jen said. “We probably shouldn’t talk about that here anyway.”

  They chatted for ten or fifteen more minutes. They talked about Jen’s blood canary, and about how she had finally taught the giant bird to sit on command. Asa was only half-listening. He was watching Charlotte, who had managed to already drink two self-poured, stout glasses of vodka punch and her second glass of wine. If she keeps drinking like this, she’s going to pass out in the first hour.

  A creeping, low voice responded in Asa’s mind: It’s as though she wants to pass out. It’s like she’s self-administering anesthetic before going through something that she knows is going to be very painful.

  Asa felt sick.

  “Do you want to dance?”

  The song had shifted to something slower. “Sure,” Asa said.

  He and Jen want to the dance floor. He put his right arm around her and clasped his left hand with her right hand. His back was now to Charlotte, and he looked right at Jen.

  “You look pale, Asa.” She scooted closer to him and smiled. “And I can feel your heart beating. You don’t have to be scared of me. I like you.”

  It took Asa a moment to process this; she thinks that I’m nervous because of her. Asa played along. “I’ve just never been good with girls,” he said. This was true.

  They danced, moving rhythmically back and forth together, and Asa found Jen’s touch soothing to him. “You’re okay,” she said. “There’s no need to be nervous.” Even though she didn’t know what he was nervous about, her words made him feel better. He could smell her perfume as she looked up at him with dazzling green eyes that reflected the candles surrounding the room. He felt safe with Jen. He pulled her closer.

  As they danced, he regretfully decided that he would have to leave when the song ended. He knew that it would disappoint Jen, but he thought that she might understand later, when he explained. Even if she didn’t forgive him, that was better than her getting killed. Asa thought of Bruce’s carcass. He didn’t want anyone else to die for him.

  The song ended and Jen lingered beside Asa, looking up at him. He didn’t think about what he was doing, but he bent down and kissed her. He withdrew a second later, startled by what he had done; frightened that she would reject him. But she didn’t. She just looked up, smiling, and said, “Usually I initiate our kisses.”

  Asa smiled. He felt pale and clammy.

  “Do you feel okay, Asa?”

  “Yeah,” he responded, trying to sound cheerful. “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom.”

  She looked concerned, but he left anyways. He walked out a side door, and moved into one of the bathrooms in the hallway. The bathroom was candle lit, just as the dance hall was. He moved to one of the sinks, splashed water into his face, and then looked into the mirror. He felt sick with anxiety. “I look like hell,” he whispered to himself. It was true; he looked pale enough to be dead.

  He wiped his face with a hand towel and walked out of the bathroom at a quick pace. He wanted to leave Town Hall, go, grab the bombs, and be at the Multiplier’s lair before anyone knew he was gone. He didn’t want someone coming looking for him.

  “Asa!”

  A hand grabbed his forearm tightly and he shrieked a little. He turned, and saw Charlotte, looking up at him. She smelled strongly of alcohol, and grabbed the side of his coat, pulling her body towards him.

  She laughed at nothing apparent. She looked drunk. “Asa! How are you? I went out into the hallway when I saw you going to the bathroom.”

  She stumbled and he wrapped his arms around her to prop her up. His hands lingered over her back, though, even though there was no reason for them to remain.

  “I’m drunk,” she said, her eyes rolling a bit.

  “Is everything okay, Charlotte?” he asked.

  Suddenly, the sadness that Asa had seen in the ballroom returned. She looked on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry I got drunk. You don’t hate me, do you?”

  “No! No! Why would I hate you?”

  She stumbled some more, and ignored the question. “Can I tell you something that might be bad, Asa?” Before he could answer, she went on. “When I wrote you that letter, at the beginning of the semester, after you broke up with me…” she hiccupped… “I signed it ‘yours for now.’ But I don’t think that I meant it. I still have feelings for you.”

  And then, she kissed him. She tasted like alcohol, and he immediately pulled back, not wanting to actively participate in kissing her while she was drunk. They had a history between each other, and she had never soberly made a move like this this semester.

  “What’s going on, Asa?” she asked. Her eyes were lidded.

  “Yeah? What’s going on, Asa?” The sound came from behind him, and he turned around and saw Jen. Asa took his arms away from Charlotte. Whereas Charlotte had been threatening tears, Jen was really crying.

  “Jen…” Asa began, reaching out for her.

  But she shook her head, still crying, and went into the girls’ bathroom.

  Asa left Charlotte standing there, in the middle of the hallway, and was about to follow Jen into the bathroom when he paused. His hand was on the bathroom door. He felt torn between going now, and attempting to explain what Jen had just seen to her. I should leave, he decided. If I don’t show back up to the dance, Jen will just think that I got upset and left. She won’t come looking for me.

  Asa inhaled deeply. Now, he felt like crying. He tur
ned away from Jen and Charlotte and began to run down the hallway towards the door to the outside.

  “Asa!” Charlotte called after him.

  But he didn’t stop. He ran out into the night and saw that the fog had grown even thicker.

  37

  Behind the Waterfall

  Asa ran along the cobblestone streets until he turned around and Town Hall had disappeared into the fog. Visibility was very minimal. He could see floating yellow fires down the streets; the lights were dim, and he could not see the streetlamps that they rested upon.

  He was breathing hard, not so much from the short run as from the immense stress he was under. He felt like something was constricting his chest so that he couldn’t get a full breath.

  For a moment, his brain wondered what he would say to Jen next time they spoke. Or to Charlotte? He shook his head violently back and forth, as though trying to sling the thoughts out.

  There’s not time to think about that now. I can think about it after tonight. Right now, I need to get to Viola’s and grab the bombs.

  He began to slide his wings out, and then growled, “Damn it!” The fabric of his clothing did not budge as he pressed his wings against it. He slid out of his jacket, and then his vest.

  Asa looked around. He now had his jacket and his vest in hand, and was wearing a white shirt with a black tie. His mind went back to Jen catching he and Charlotte kissing and he was overcome with a wave of anger, frustration, and embarrassment.

  “She kissed me!” he cried, and in a jolt of rage he shot his wings clear through his white shirt, creating two separate holes, right above his shoulder blades. His membranous wings stretched out to either side of him, and he began to flap them downwards.

  He felt his feet leave the ground and in just a few moments the Town was invisible to him in the thick fog. He was flying blind through the night. He had oriented himself to where Mount Two was using the buildings in Town. Now that he was in the air, he trusted himself and flew forward without any visual cues.

  It occurred to him then that he might never see The Town again. I could die tonight. Or, the Multipliers could blow it up. They could carry a large amount of bombs with them, and just destroy the whole area instead of individually attacking each student and graduate.

  He hadn’t thought of this before, and the realization that he had not gone through all the possibilities made him feel exposed and scared. He kept flapping his wings anyway, and soon the vague shape of Mount Two came up in front of him.

  He landed in the doorway of Viola’s dwelling and let himself inside with a screech of the door hinges. He took the box of matches from the table beside the doorway, lit one, and then lit one of the small candles that Viola used to light up the rest of the room. Asa intended to just use the single stick as a light, and then blow it out when he was done. He intended to move as fast as possible.

  He walked past the kitchen table and peered around the room. Viola’s makeup bag was still sitting on the table. On the floor of the bathroom was Asa’s Academy-issued white suit. He decided not to put it on; that would take too much time. The mug Asa had drunk coffee out of before going to the dance sat in the sink. It struck Asa as perverse that he be reminded of all these very normal things now that he was about to set off on a mission to kill hundreds of thousands of Multipliers. It was like the Universe was taunting him with all the small things that he would miss if he died.

  An image of Bruce’s bloody body—his guts spilled out onto the floor—rose to Asa’s mind and he gritted his teeth. He knew that what he was doing was worth trying, no matter the consequences.

  I’m going to have to fight them sooner or later. Either I’ll attack them, or they’ll attack me. I’d rather end this on my terms.

  Boom Boom’s bombs were in a potato sack on the floor, between the kitchen counter and the bathroom. Asa picked up the sack and looked inside. There were six of them in there, each weighing roughly fifteen pounds. Asa reached his hand inside and felt one of the explosives. It was cold. The outside stone was speckled with dirt. It was hard and unmoving against his fingertips.

  In that moment, he felt more confident than ever before. In the past, he had viewed this mission in a Why not try? What’s there to lose? kind of way. Now, touching the bombs and seeing how heavy they were, he felt that his goal was more tangible. Mike Plode made these bombs, he told himself. And he also made explosives that successfully blew up a whole bank. And Teddy, who is the smartest person I know when it comes to physics, thinks that this will work!

  Asa smiled, closed the sack, and was walking towards the door when a dark and cold thought came to him, like a hangman whispering cold breath into his ear. He stopped, and his skin crawled as he considered the thought.

  Teddy’s a Multiplier. His intentions are skewed. You got this idea from the same person who carved out a secret mansion in the mountains, and then tried to KILL YOU within it!

  Asa looked at the door, and responded to the voice in his head by speaking aloud: “He didn’t bite me, though. He took the suicide pill. He would have rather killed himself than bitten me.”

  Asa took two more steps, and then the cold voice responded: He was different back then. He had only been a Multiplier a few days when he took the suicide pill. Now, he’s been one for well over a month. You’ve seen the vicious ways in which Multipliers act (an image of Ned straining as he choked Rose with all his strength flashed across Asa’s mind). Two days in, his gums were only spotted black! Now, they’re as black as charcoal. Do you really think that he hasn’t changed? Can you really trust him? And what about the radio? Wasn’t he talking to someone on the radio? Do you think that he could have been speaking with the Hive?

  “SHUT UP!” He screamed, and the noise echoed loudly among the walls. “He hugged me last night. If he was going to bite me, or wanted something to happen to me, he would have hurt me then.” He blew out the candle, put it back on the door-side table, and walked out into the fog. He shut the door behind him, leapt into the air, and flew over to the backside of Fishie Mountain.

  He was in the air for fifteen minutes, trying to find the location of the waterfall. He couldn’t remember exactly where it was. All the time he was in the air, he was trying not to think of Allen shooting Ned, or the Davids with slit throats out in the woods. He tried not to wonder what they would do if they found him. They would torture me, probably, and try to get some information out of me. Then, they’d either kill me or bite me. Every time he pushed one of these thoughts away, it resurfaced, but was more violent and more convincing. He hugged the bombs to his chest, and thought about how much better he would feel when this was all over.

  He was blind in the fog. He found that even his echolocation cries offered him limited visibility due to the hanging moisture.

  After a time, though, he heard the rushing sound of the waterfall, and landed in the jungle one hundred yards from the Multiplier’s lair. He stood under the canopy and contracted his wings back into his shoulder blades.

  In the dim light, he could see that the tree trunks and the green vines that wrapped around them were covered in droplets of condensation, like a glass of ice water on a summer’s day. The cicadas were singing away, just like last night, when he had come here with Jen.

  Jen, he thought, and his heart palpated. He wondered if she was looking for him now, at the dance. He wondered if he didn’t show up at Viola’s dwelling tonight if the Sharks would come looking for him.

  He shook his head again, and reminded himself to concentrate on what he had to do.

  Carrying the sack of bombs by his side, he walked as quietly as possible through the jungle. He carefully avoided any fallen leaves on the dark dirt floor. He walked slowly, only moving seventy-five yards in the next three minutes. As he got closer, the waterfall came into view and he felt like he might vomit. He could see lights shining through the falling sheet of water; Someone’s home, he thought, and almost giggled.

  The sound of rustling branches came to Asa and he snapp
ed his head back just in time to see a dark form moving forty-feet above him through the tops of the canopy. It was gone in a flash, disappearing into the fog.

  Asa’s mouth was instantly dry and he tried to imagine what could have just glided through the canopy like that. At first, he thought it was the shape of a chimpanzee, but then he began to wonder if it could have been a human. Or a Multiplier?

  He groaned, and leaned against a tree. The incredible fear he was feeling reminded him of when the police officer Harold Kensing had held a gun to his head the night before Conway kidnapped him and taken him to the Academy. Asa closed his eyes. He was back in the police car, now, looking at the dashboard where the radio had been pulled out. Harold king had the gun to Asa’s head. He told Asa, “I just remember the black gums. They have black gums and a black tongue and they held me by the neck and told me that if I didn’t do this that they’d kill my whole family and me. Oh, Asa. They could. They could. And trust me, there’s no reason for me not to kill you right here and now, Asa Palmer, because they are powerful, much more powerful than the fishy place thinks that they are. They’ll find you anywhere. You’re as good as dead, son.”

  Asa opened his eyes. He was back in the dark, foggy jungle, looking across the water at the spider-like shadows in the foliage. His legs felt unsteady beneath him as he looked at the lights behind the waterfall, and imagined a hundred thousand Multipliers living in an expansive cave behind the sheet of water. He guessed that they would be getting ready to leave now; to head to Town and feast on everyone they found.

  Asa clenched his fists, and remembered that these were the Multipliers who bit Brumi. And they bit Teddy. And they killed Bruce. He thought of Roxanne’s tears when she had been told.