The Academy (The Academy Saga Book 1)

by CJ Daly

  head.“You want me to cut a microchip out of your neck using a paring knife?”

  I repeated it out loud, just to make sure I got it right.

  He nodded at me woefully. I dropped the gun altogether, and my hands,

  now lightened of their load, were trembling from the enormity of what almost

  happened. We both stared at them. It was really cold out here, but I was

  shaking from shock. The wind had picked up, howling mournfully and

  swaying dead-limbed trees and skeletal bushes around eerily. We stared at each

  other for a long moment, the bonds of trust quickly regenerating.

  “How old are you, real y?” I demanded.

  A little huff. “I guess that’s as good a place to start as any.”

  Pete walked back a few paces to where we’d just tussled in the dirt and

  slumped down heavily against the elm tree. I followed behind with the gun

  and set it down before lowering myself in the same cautious manner next to

  him, in case he flinched back or yelled at me. I had hit him pretty hard—a

  sharp pang of remorse hit me back. But I wouldn’t apologize just yet. There

  was still that little matter of him saying I would hate him to attend to first.

  So I waited, teeth chattering in the pale moonlight. He unzipped himself out

  of his coat and draped it around us both, so I had no choice but to snuggle in.

  “Twenty-three this month,” he admitted.

  I processed this quietly, doing some swift mental math. Six years older.

  Not a catastrophe. Not exactly legal either. Honestly, I was a little relieved;

  • 429 •

  he seemed even older than that to me. But I already hated to think of our relationship—precious to my heart—as being illicit.

  He had quietly settled into the tree, still as a statue, so I prompted him.

  “Why were you really sent here? Is there even really a mentoring program?”

  “I was sent here to vet your brother for The Academy,” he began, “and

  there is a mentoring program. But it’s only for a highly specialized sector—

  PGCs, which your brother was thought to be . . .”—he spared me a sidelong

  glance—“but no longer is.”

  “PGC?”

  “Potentially Gifted Civilian.”

  “What do you mean by gifted exactly?”

  “I mean gifts above and beyond the physical and mental ones that

  Andrew has.”

  “You mean like super- natural stuff?” I was no longer thinking about the cold.Pete looked at me. He nodded gingerly, one hand holding the dampening

  rag to his head. I swallowed, my mind reeling with frantic thoughts and

  questions.

  “Like what?”

  “Like being able to tell when someone is lying, just by looking them in the

  eye. Or having really strong feelings about things that usual y . . .”—he shot me an exasperated look—“sway your actions in the right direction.”

  “You mean like havin’ intuition about stuff? But everybody has that,” I

  dismissed.

  “Your intuition, Kate, is a mite sharper than the average Joe’s.”

  I set that bit of information on the back burner for now. I already knew

  that about myself, although I never considered it to be supernatural. “Is

  that why your academy is no longer interested in Andrew . . . because bein’

  super-smart and super-talented isn’t enough to earn you a one-way ticket to

  Elitesville?”

  “Pretty much,” he confirmed. “That used to be enough, but more

  recently, The Academy is after people like you, kids preferably, because it’s

  easier to indoctrinate and manipulate them.” The disgust in Pete’s voice

  was unmistakable. “And The Academy is still interested in your brother . . .

  just not as much. His tests for giftedness were negative. He’s just a regular,

  straight-up golden boy with no extra-special gifts, apart from the obvious

  intelligence and athleticism.”

  We were quiet a moment. The cold came back to me—from the inside.

  • 430 •

  “But what if k-kids,” I stumbled over the word, hyper-aware of our age difference now, “like me don’t wanna sign up for the gifted program?”

  He stared into my eyes and said, “They have no choice in the matter.”

  “So-so . . . y’all just take t hem? Snatch them from their beds in the middle of the night?”

  “Something like that. If we can’t get them to sign with us—which is

  highly unusual but does happen from time to time—then we have to go the,

  er . . . extra mile. As you see, we’re very persuasive. Running into holdouts

  like you and your father is rare.”

  “Isn’t that a little suspicious?—snatching kids from their families. Don’t

  the parents . . . I dunno . . . alert the police, call the FBI or something? Don’t

  y’all ever get caught?”

  Pete sighed as though I still weren’t getting the gist of it. “Kate, The

  Academy is a very old and very secretive government institution. It’s also

  one of the most powerful. If there ever was a whisper of something negative

  directed our way, it would quickly be squashed.”

  “Friends in high places and all that,” I said, trying to grasp the magnitude

  of what he was saying.

  “The Academy pretty much stocks the high places with former cadets.”

  A quake of fear shook me again; the confirmation of my suspicions rocked

  my world. “So what’s next for the Connelly family?”

  “I’m not sure,” he answered truthfully then paused. “Nothing I hope . . .

  although they still have a lot of surveillance in the house.” He studied my

  face to see how I was taking the news. Apparently, I looked like I was holding

  it together, because he proceeded. “And they asked me to procure your

  standardized tests—see if I can find a pattern similar to the one I found with

  Andrew.”

  I tried to picture unknown people, clinical CIA types, sipping burnt

  coffee and listening in on our mundane domestic life. What exactly had they

  gleaned from our conversations?

  “Where are they exactly?” I tried real hard now not to freak out.

  “There’s one in the living room and dining room, one in the boys’ room,

  and I just added one more recently—to your room.” He said this as if he were

  listing the number of phone jacks instead of really invasive spying devices.

  Something twisted inside me. “When you asked to see my bedroom . . . ?”

  He nodded. That one hurt. It must’ve shown because he took my hand,

  as one does when delivering bad news. Which kept on coming. “And the

  phone is tapped.”

  “Is that why you didn’t call?” I asked.

  • 431 •

  “Precisely why.”

  While I slowly started to process, Pete examined the blood-drenched rag.

  He wasn’t kidding around when he said he was going to explain everything. I

  wondered what else there was to find out and shuddered at the thought that,

  like the Titanic, we’d only hit the tip of the iceberg. I decided to put that on the other back burner to focus on what else he’d just said.

  “Wait. You said they wanted to look for a testing pattern with me, similar

  to the one you found with Andrew—you told them about that?” I withdrew

  my hand so fast my elbow hit tree, jangling my funny bone.

  He breathed in deeply as one does before an admission of guilt, but no

 
apology came out with his exhalation. Instead, he said, “If I didn’t cooperate

  with them . . . at least to a certain degree, then they were going to make things

  very unpleasant for me, my parents . . . Reese. Then send Ranger—who is lead

  officer in charge of this mission, by the way—to finish the job.”

  The thought of him and his hatred coming for me made me shudder

  again.

  “It’s been a tough balancing act for me—giving them enough accurate,

  new information so as to appear that I’m doing my job well, and hiding the

  other truths I’ve discovered along the way.”

  “What truths?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know, Kate. I thought we were done pretending.”

  Pete looked me in the eye.

  Oh that. It was hard to think of myself as gifted per se. It was really just a lot of strong feelings about things I usually tried to tune out. “Does-does

  this mean they know about me?”

  He sighed, propped his arms on his bent knees, looked up at the crescent

  moon as if it had all the answers. “I have a hunch they do. As a matter of fact,

  I think part of this mission was to access whether I could recognize giftedness

  when I see it. I suspect the powers-that-be already knew going in that Andrew

  wasn’t the only gifted Connelly kid—even though he blatantly embodied all

  the usual markers.” He gave me a strange, sad smile. “You did a much better

  job of hiding your gifts.”

  Pete continued on with things that continued to chill me, one vertebrate

  at a time. “They still had me monitoring you, even after we found out

  conclusively that Andrew isn’t gifted. You see, The Academy’s filled to the

  brim with kids like him—myself and Ranger being two examples. Like I said,

  they’ve turned more towards flushing out these other enhanced abilities like

  yours . . . like—”

  I flung off his coat. “Wait! You were listenin’ in?”

  • 432 •

  He put his hand on my thigh as though to keep me in place. “It was part of my job, Kate. But they have access to the surveillance tapes—no telling how

  long until they listen in on you talking about your strong feelings.”

  “Speakin’ of strong feelin’s . . . why does Ranger hate me so much?” I

  wasn’t sure why this was such a burning question. But it was.

  Pete puffed out some air. “That’s a really good question . . . I’ve been

  wondering the same thing.” He was quiet a moment, lost in his own thoughts.

  “I mean . . . if y’all were so keen on signing us—Andrew and you say

  possibly me—then why was he so hateful to me? Wouldn’t that go against

  the mission?”

  “Don’t take it personally,” he advised. “Ranger’s an asshole . . . even

  amongst cadets, and we already despise each other. So naturally, he wanted

  to give me a hard time on my first mission. Plus, he disdains all civilians

  in general. He sees them as being inferior and not worthy of his time. I

  don’t think he’s even aware of your potential for giftedness. Like I said, you

  were pretty good at hiding your light under a bushel. We looked at your

  school records during preliminary meetings—you keep your average at a solid

  A-minus, making sure you never make higher than a 92 or lower than a 90.

  I suspect that’s no accident.”

  Pete stared at me until I gave in with a little shrug. “I suspected as

  much,” he said. “But that’s nowhere near good enough to be considered for

  The Academy, so he most likely quickly dismissed you . . . and I think we

  can only be grateful for that.” He sighed. “But The Academy will most likely

  see that as the pattern it is before too long. I’m afraid it’s only a matter of

  time before they’re onto you. Didn’t take me very long to figure it out.” He

  frowned and drew me back into the shelter of his arm. “And when they do,

  they’ll most likely send Ranger in to access you. He’s been chomping at the

  bit since day one.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t fathom him being here this whole time instead

  of you.”

  Pete gave a little huff then looked at me with a peculiar expression. “He

  almost was, but he failed the first test . . . the one I passed with flying colors.”

  “The first test?” I probed, and watched as his mouth quirked up, his face

  telling of some inside joke I wasn’t privy to. “Pete? What was the first test?”

  “To see which cadet you would be most attracted to,” he finished with a

  smirk-smile.

  “What? You mean at Norma’s when y’all came in that afternoon? Ranger

  was being a world-class ass! I can’t believe he’d think anyone would find that attractive.”

  • 433 •

  Pete shook his head then winced, reminding me he was in pain. And

  it was my fault—again. “No before then.” My face was a blank slate, so he

  prompted, “Remember the church camp you attended over the summer?”

  I nodded, realization slowly dawning on me. “You mentioned earlier . . .

  you mentioned the name Reese. That wouldn’t happen to be . . .”

  He looked into my eyes, and killed me with the answer. I was too

  thunderstruck to speak, staring at him while he worked over the bloody rag

  in his hand. This was by far the most surprising news. I guess because I’d

  already guessed at most of the rest. But this . . . this I’d had no idea about.

  He was about to go on when I finger-halted him, needing another moment

  to process. “Wait. Doesn’t that mitigate the idea that I have super-natural

  intuition?” I was thinking aloud. “But I did think she was always askin’ me

  a lot of personal questions . . . and I mostly answered because I thought she

  genuinely—” An incredulous laugh cut off the humiliating thought. “I can’t

  believe how much I revealed to that phony!”

  I had full burners of damning information boiling in pots and was starting

  to feel pretty steamed.

  Pete squeezed my thigh. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Honestly, these

  gifts are often hit or miss, especially when you’re as unaware of it as you

  seem to be. They always need to be worked on to develop properly, much

  like building a muscle or getting good at a particular sport . . . you can have

  natural ability, but you still have to practice to be really great.”

  Hot tears burned my eyes. “I can’t believe it!”

  He slipped his arm around my waist. “She really did like you. And didn’t

  mean you any harm . . . unless you got in the way of the mission, so you

  wouldn’t have gotten any bad vibes from her.”

  Despite the warming presence of his palm against my ribcage, another

  chill crept farther up my spinal column. “Wouldn’t have harmed me unless I

  got in the way,” I repeated.

  “Reese is a hardcore cadet,” he explained. “Lives and breathes Academy.

  Believes it’s her life’s mission to fulfill theirs. And she thinks a boy like Andrew would be better off in ‘The Academy’s superior care’, rather than”—he gave

  me an apologetic look—“‘living out in the country, in a trailer house, being

  raised by his teenage sister’—no offense,” he finished, lifting his hand to

  deflect my glare. “Hey. Don’t shoot the messenger . . . you know I don’t feel that way.”

  M
y shoulders slumped. He was right. I just felt so betrayed and duped.

  But now that I knew Reese was one of them, I couldn’t believe it hadn’t

  • 434 •

  occurred to me before. She fit the prototype exactly: beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated. So, so far above everyone else at that camp except for . . .

  Oh my God—Ryan! I’d completely forgotten about him since . . . well,

  since Pete walked through the door. Obviously he’d been a set up, too. I

  cringed, feeling so manipulated. Reese had practically pushed the two of us

  together from the moment we met. Did Pete know about that? He watched

  the play of emotions on my face, waiting for my speech to catch up with my

  thoughts.

  “Where does Ryan fit into all this?”

  Pete made a little face. “He was first in line for the mission, hand-picked

  by the powers-that-be.”

  “Why? Because he’s my type?” I thought back to Ryan’s poster-boy good

  looks. Didn’t do it for me. It was more me being flattered a guy like that was

  interested in me than me being interested in him. Plus, he got all sneery about

  Bible class, rolling his eyes at every camp activity that didn’t involve sports. I

  hadn’t really liked his attitude but was willing to overlook it because he was

  very solicitous towards me . . . I guess I knew why now.

  The slow burn heated up.

  Pete gave a little grunt. “I guess so, partly anyway. The Academy is really

  arrogant, always surmising a civilian will fall for any cadet.” I hated to admit

  they were probably right about that. “So that was the assumption going in.

  Ryan’s also a couple of years younger, so they probably thought he could play

  the part better. And Reese was already signed up for the mission . . . just

  seemed like a natural fit to use him. But as the days went on, it was clear you

  didn’t immediately have the chemistry with him The Academy was counting

  on. So they had to . . . improvise.” Pete’s mouth had the audacity to quirk

  up again.

  “Improvise?”

  “Do you remember Reese instigating a little game with all the girls from

  your cabin?”

  I stared into the space that was my past, feeling slow and stupid, my mind

  literally boggled as if I’d been cavorting around with aliens this whole time.

  “She was always leading the charge for something: shaving cream fights,