Animal

by G S Banks

  ‘Oops,’ he says, fumbling for a button. ‘Wrong slide!’

  He gives an awkward laugh and there are titters across the room, then he bounds over to the projector and fiddles with it until the image of a woman appears. It is a painting, hundreds of years old. She is regal looking with a long nose and beautiful brown eyes.

  ‘Who’s that?’ says Heather, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.

  ‘That is the original Lady Muldoon.’

  ‘Ooooh,’ she coos. ‘Interesting.’

  She gives a toothy smile to the professor and he almost jumps back. She’s flirting with him. And he can’t handle it. He flusters for a moment and hovers away from her. She keeps smiling and looks like she regularly makes a sport of terrorising gawky teachers.

  ‘The current Lady Muldoon’s great, great – many times great – grandmother,’ he continues, edging further away. ‘She founded Muldoon Academy in the 16th Century.’

  I sit forward in my chair. I notice Lucy at the front, looking enthralled. She sits next to Alisdair and whispers something in his ear. He turns to her and smiles, affectionately. I haven’t seen him smile before. It completely transforms his face.

  ‘The original Lady Muldoon was called Agatha. She was a Deer, but at that time she didn’t know of anyone else with powers like hers.’

  I rest my chin on my hands.

  ‘The story goes that she found out she could heal when her horse broke its leg. Ordinarily it would have been put down, but Agatha saved it.’

  ‘Oh,’ says Heather.

  ‘Later, Agatha’s Mother became ill. Agatha healed her and the doctor who witnessed it pronounced her a witch. She was now in great danger, so Agatha and her family fled. They moved to this very island and began work on the buildings we find ourselves in now – so that their precious daughter, Agatha could grow up in safety.’

  The first Anitars had it bad; it’s been sacrifice right from the start. A girl called Stacey in the front row, with an orange bob and small eyes, shoots her hand up in the air.

  ‘Professor Dunedin, were Agatha’s parents Anitars? Do you have to come from an Anitar family to manifest?’

  The Professor joins his hands together and looks thoughtful.

  ‘No. According to the few documents we have from that time, Agatha’s parents were not Anitars. It was just her to begin with in this family line. You don’t have to come from an Anitar family to manifest.’

  ‘My parents weren’t Anitars,’ says James. ‘At least I don’t think they were. And Grandma isn’t one. Unless she’s keeping it secret, and when I say secret, I mean very secret. Uncle Steve has no superpowers. No way. Uncle Steve’s got nothing.’

  He shakes his head violently. The professor rearranges his cardigan.

  ‘The potential for manifestation lies in many,’ he says. ‘Some say in everyone.’

  There’s a collective gasp.

  ‘But the overwhelming majority of people do not come anywhere near to manifesting, although in theory, they could.’

  I see Alisdair lean in to whisper into Lucy’s ear. The professor clicks to another image of Agatha, but this time sat next to a man wearing a white, ruffled-necked outfit, with her hand on his lap.

  ‘One day she received a letter from this man,’ he says, pointing to the image. ‘Federic Almanov. He heard about her ‘witchcraft’ and explained that he had similar abilities. They shared their knowledge and ended up marrying.’

  I raise my eyebrows.

  ‘Damn,’ says James.

  ‘He was a Frog, as it happens.’

  He looks proud of that fact.

  ‘Together they found others like them and brought them here, to provide sanctuary and learning. And the rest, as they say, is history!’

  He laughs at his own joke, but the rest of the room remains quiet.

  ‘It was right here that the Anitars' principles were formed. And it was clear even then that Anitar powers blossom from goodness.’

  Goodness? What’s that supposed to mean?

  ‘It has always been our purpose to rid the world of evil.’

  An image of Adolf Hitler flicks into view.

  ‘We do the things that no one else can or dares do. We’ve had a silent hand in ending the careers of some of the most vicious people of the last few hundred years. Serial killers, corrupt dictators, drug barons.’

  The images keep flicking from one grim looking individual to the next.

  ‘We’ve delivered killers straight into the hands of authorities without anyone knowing who did it – what we do never reaches the history books.’

  I am stunned.

  ‘Whenever too many people know about us, it has only ended in disaster.’

  I remember what Dad said after Kelci was taken, that a few people did know about us.

  ‘We have been hunted, abused and killed throughout history. That’s why we must operate in complete secrecy.’

  There’s a chill in the room.

  ‘You may be surprised to learn which well-known individuals are Anitars; the list includes some of the most influential people in the world. Many have trained in this very Academy. Politicians, sportsmen, business moguls. From those positions they can influence many lives. Yet there are just as many who lead the everyday lives of schoolteachers, charity workers, chefs, train drivers, doctors.’

  I can’t help but wonder if I’ve ever met another Anitar and didn’t know it.

  ‘And then there are those who never return to the world but remain at the Academy, after their Apprenticeship, to lead a life devoted to the highest level of missions. We call these Anitars, Paladins. They don’t marry or have children, their life is dedicated to being the very best of their kind.’

  Artemiz springs to mind. Is she a Paladin?

  ‘If, and when, any of you manifest, before you officially become an Anitar you will be asked to make The Promises. It will be your choice entirely to make them, or not.’

  He presses a button on his remote and a bright screen comes up with these words:

  ‘I promise that, from this day forward, I will devote my life to the goal of all Anitars: to rid this world of evil so that good people may thrive. I promise to help others, but in doing so, I will seek no glory. I will develop my abilities to the highest levels I can reach and I will assist my fellow Anitars when they are in need. I refuse to allow the powers I possess to be used to further any one of the political agendas and allegiances of mankind and I promise to keep the Anitar way of life confidential at all costs. These promises I keep until my last breath.’

  The room is quiet. I feel a spark of pride that my parents do this stuff, that they trained here. I wonder what disasters they have averted, what lives they’ve saved? I remember how I felt that pride years ago, even before I knew this place existed, when I dreamt of my parents as superheroes, saving the world. I remember the girl I was then. The lionhearted fourteen-year-old with a dream. I wonder where that girl is now.

  13. Snow-covered Mountain

  Fifth day since Kelci was taken, somewhere above Muldoon Island

  I can’t see a thing. I have a blind-fold on, as does every other member of the group. I am weighed down by a massive backpack strapped to my shoulders. Today we are kitted out in heavy boots and boiler suits with tight little hoods that cling to our heads. However, my attire is the least of my concerns right now. From what I can tell I am in an airplane – I know only because of the sound of the engine and the distinct feeling of having taken off from the ground. We were already blindfolded before being led out of the Academy.

  This is the first of the special challenges Lady Muldoon has talked about, and the whole thing has me on edge. She told us, this morning, prior to the blindfolding that in the first challenge we will be pitted against each other in two teams. The selection of the teams was random and I took note that I am on the same team as Heather, Alisdair, Rodriguez, Stacey and about 10 more Trainees. Anitars must act in secrecy, she said. And any Anitar worth his or her salt alw
ays knows their way home, no matter where they are in the world. All I can say is, my sense of direction is terrible. The teams will start in two different locations: Team One, my team, must get back to Muldoon and Team Two must find Team One before they’re able to do so – if they are able to catch any member of our team with a shot of the paint guns they have been provided us with, then they win.

  It didn’t sound like a good idea when she outlined it and I certainly don’t think it’s a good idea now, as I cling to the hull of this aircraft. I can only hope we land soon. I hear the rumble of the engine and shouting around me. I hear the booming voice of a man instructing us to line up, but I can’t see the line! I feel a strong set of arms pulling me from the side of the plane. The arms guide my gloved hands to what I can only presume is someone else’s back. I guess I’m now in line. An almighty blast hits us, out of nowhere. It’s so loud everything else is blocked out. I feel a rush of cold air on my face. Panic sets in. What has gone wrong? I feel myself being pulled along by the arms again – towards the air. I struggle and cry out. Seconds later I feel the person in front of me disappear.

  ‘No!’

  I am right in the midst of – what feels like – a hurricane. My blindfold is removed. A guy stands in front of me, red hair blowing straight up from his forehead, freckles sprayed across his nose. The same guy we saw swooping along the Theory corridor yesterday. Another guy and girl are behind me, adjusting my backpack. I feel as though my face is blue. Before me is a gaping hole showing the earth far below it. I fear that it is all over. The girl thrusts an orange handle, attached to my backpack, into my grip. She smiles, yes, smiles at me! I look at the red haired boy and gulp. He starts yelling.

  ‘Count to 40, when you get to 40, pull on this handle. It will open your parachute.’

  ‘What! No! I can’t….’

  My heart does actually stop.

  ‘Find the others when you get down there. Don’t forget to pull this. If you don’t we’ll have to come and get you.’

  ‘Get me? What?’

  I can only presume my face is now green. The guy winks at me and says:

  ‘Enjoy it.’

  With that he proceeds to shove me out of the plane. I let out a scream, which comes from the very depths of my soul, but the wind moves so fast it can’t be heard. Time freezes. I am star shaped and falling. Count. Must count. 1, 2, 3, 4. The wind stretches my face. I’m hurtling faster. I cling on to the handle and when I get to 40 I pull it – hard. I’m winded as it blows up behind me. The straps of the parachute ride up my back and I thank god it works. The ground spreads out below me, a great patchwork with the mountains and forest, and a river that looks like a black snake. There’s nothing else for me to do but take in the beauty of it all. I feel a yearning somewhere deep inside myself, a feeling of sudden calm. Which is strange, considering my utter panic of moments ago.

  I see a spaced out line of airborne people in front of me like ants dangling from balloons. I’m moving slower now but the ground is getting closer. There are bunches of trees materialising beneath me. I presume landing on one of these is not a good option. I look back and see another line of floating ants behind me. My parachute billows above and I’m past the trees now. There’s a snow-covered mountain. I peer down – by now there is no more line in front of me – instead there are three dark splodges on the side of the mountain that I presume are members of my group. I drop towards the mountain, but there’s very little time to ponder how to land as it speeds towards me. Without further ado, I land in a heap. The parachute flaps at my side. Embedded in the snow, I lift my head up and peer out. There’s someone there, moving towards me.

  ‘Hello?’ I cry. ‘Who is it?’

  The figure appears before me. Alisdair.

  ‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Hi.’

  This is the first time we’ve spoken. And I’m wedged waist-high in snow.

  ‘Hi there,’ he says. ‘Let me help you.’

  ‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ I reply, struggling to move my legs.

  He puts his hand out towards me and I take it. As he hauls me out, three more navy blue bodies catapult into the side of the mountain, one after the other. With his help I manage to wriggle out of my hole and sprawl gracelessly on the snow.

  ‘Are you ok?’ he says as I lie face up.

  I nod.

  ‘I’m fine, really. Yes, I’m great.’

  ‘Here, let me help you up,’ he replies.

  He gives me his arm which I use to lever myself upright.

  ‘Good,’ he says, as I regain my balance.

  ‘Thanks,’ I reply.

  As I brush down the wads of snow on my suit I see Heather nearby, her parachute laid out beside her, staring at us. Alisdair jogs over to help the rest of the team get to their feet. Then, after a fair amount of scrabbling around from everyone, he speaks up.

  ‘Guys,’ he says.

  His cheeks glow, his eyelashes are thick and dark. He looks alive. Ridiculously alive. He’s revelling in this. He’s tackled every piece of training with relative ease and skill, but this is something else. It looks as though he’s been waiting to be catapulted onto the side of a mountain all his life.

  ‘We need to find cover, quickly. We’re way too exposed here.’

  Small clouds of breath billow as he speaks, which lends a certain drama to his words. Everyone else looks dazed and confused, apart from Heather who strides over and positions herself right next to him. Without further ado he leads us down the mountain, moving fast. Eventually the whole group is on his heels and we march down to the trees. It’s cold – the kind of cold that gets into your bones and stays there. Once we have some cover we gather together and try to figure out which skills we have to help us get home. We realise we have virtually none, apart from what Alisdair seems to have to offer. It feels like, somehow, he just knows what he’s doing. Where does his confidence come from? The rest of the group immediately request him as leader.

  ‘If that’s what it takes to win, I’ll do it,’ he says.

  Our hero. I let out a large breath, which condenses into a billowing cloud. My hands are beginning to throb. There are more discussions about directions and locations. Alisdair instructs us to travel South West. I can only presume this is based on some sort of instinct of his because there’s no other reason why we should do so. He assigns us all the task of keeping our eyes peeled for the other group. We plunge further into the forest. He moves with speed and gives out steely looks when we don’t all move as quickly as he does. When Rodriguez and Stacey lag behind, he doesn’t look impressed.

  ‘We need to move. Now,’ he says.

  I get the feeling he just wants to run off into forest on his own and leave us all behind. But he won’t win the challenge if he does that. At one point he throws a glance in my direction. I frown at him and he just sort of broods, or at least I think he does. He’s impossible to read. We bustle through the forest until we find a river, which we then follow all the way into a deep valley. We plunge through snow, mud, water, and ice. I slip and slide all over the place, and I’m not the only one struggling with the conditions. I wish Ben was here to grab on to, he’s unbelievably steady on his feet. So is Alisdair. He doesn’t seem to put a step wrong the whole way. We eventually enter another forest with more ferny type trees and I hear Heather shout Alisdair’s name. She’s obsessed with him. But then I hear her saying he’s ‘gone’.

  Apprehension ripples through the group, but we keep moving. Moments pass and he’s nowhere to be seen. We can’t call out, in case Team Two hears us, so we look around in every direction. Nothing. Where is he? Seconds tick by like minutes, then suddenly he appears in front of us, so fast I didn’t see him coming. He looks exhilarated and his hair now has great white streaks running through the blackness!

  ‘I think I just discovered some abilities,’ he says.

  He’s a blur of motion… appearing again at the other side of the group. We’ve all come to a standstill, watching him. Suddenly I realise. He’s a
Snow Leopard. His eyes have changed colour. They glow ice blue. He’s taller, wider in the shoulders, his features are sharper. Definitely a Snow Leopard. Mum always said that Snow Leopards get talked about the most, but they are the least seen – so rare, even she only ever knew one, personally. She always had a dreamy look about her when she talked about them, which made me wonder about her Snow Leopard friend. Who was he? But she never did tell me that. She did tell me that they are one of the most powerful Anitars, that they like to work alone, and that most of them are male. And now, we have one here right in front of us. Heather has her eyes locked on him, in fact every girl in the group is looking at him misty-eyed, but he’s breathing hard, his eyes darting around the forest, on full alert, and he doesn’t seem to notice a thing.

  14. Chalk & Cheese

  Five days since Kelci was taken, Muldoon Island

  The sky is getting dark. After hours more trekking we find a clearing and set up camp. We agree that each of us will take a shift on night watch. Mine is 3.30am until we rise at 5am. I’m shaken awake at half past three and I sit up in my sleeping bag and breathe in the freezing air. I watch the other lying bundles and stare at the fire. With Alisdair’s leadership there’s a feeling that we’ve done well; there’s been no sign of the other group, and I suspect we’ve put some distance between us.

  It is quiet, so quiet and still, just the flickering flames and the trees above, swaying, back and forth, back and forth. Out of the silence… I hear Terence’s voice. We’re in our favourite toyshop in New York and he’s calling me to join him on this giant keyboard on the floor. Plink, plonk, plink, plonk. We think it’s hilarious. But then, in a flash, we’re on his rooftop again.

  ‘I can hear them. Can’t you hear them?’ he says, desperately.