“I wish I knew.”
4
A couple of hours later, we get our answer. The bus pulls up to a single, small boat dock and there’s not a soul around. An endless forest stretches behind us and open water lies ahead. The clouds hang low and ominous in the sky, and they darken with the impending nightfall.
“We’ve arrived,” Mr. Seaver announces, sounding tired. “It may be a few minutes before the boat gets here. In the meantime, everybody out.”
Did he say boat? I shiver involuntarily and reluctantly hop out of the bus after Casey. The breeze coming off the ocean is bone-chilling, and I wrap my thin summer jacket tighter around myself. The rest of the kids from our minibus form a group near Mr. Seaver.
“Is this place on an island or what?” I mutter to Casey.
She shakes her head and cracks a smile. “Maybe this is all a set up and we’re actually this season's Survivor contestants. I've always wanted to be on TV.”
I smile wryly, my mood lifting a fraction. Casey’s wisecracks are the only things keeping me from jumping back onto the black minibus. Mr. Seaver corrals us towards the dock and I glance at the minibus wistfully. I found it so suspicious just a couple of hours ago, but now, it’s my only tie to civilization.
My thoughts run wild through my mind. Where are we going? And who is Mr. Seaver? For all we know, he could be an ax murderer.
I reach for my cell phone, wanting to call my parents or my friends. The screen lights up and my hopes are dashed. No service, of course. Casey checks her phone, but she doesn’t have service either.
A blond, athletic guy glances at us. “Any luck?”
We shake our heads in unison.
“You?” I ask, but he shakes his.
One of the girls, a small pretty thing, has her face in her hands. She anxiously rubs her eyes like she’s trying to escape a bad dream. I feel her pain.
“So. No one knows where we’re going, no one has heard of this school, and no one applied to get in?” Casey asks. “This sounds promising.”
Everyone in the group looks concerned. The athletic guy’s brow is furrowed. The smaller girl plays with her nails. Another guy runs his fingers through his hair repeatedly. One kid manages to keep his cool, staring at the ocean disinterestedly.
I bite my lip and turn to Casey, but she’s distracted. I follow her gaze towards the wide expanse of gray ocean. Something is coming towards us — a small, dilapidated boat.
“That can’t be our ride,” I mutter.
But, Mr. Seaver jogs over and gestures towards the craft. “Our ship is arriving. Make your way onto the dock and line up in a single file.”
Casey shakes her head. “I am not getting on that. It’s one rough wave away from sinking.”
I snort and watch helplessly as the boat docks. The “boat” looks like four pieces of plywood glued together by a toddler.
A statuesque woman appears on the deck and I’m blown away by how striking she is. She has long silver hair and an angular face. Her presence is commanding, even from here.
She steps off the boat and glides towards us before exchanging hushed words with Mr. Seaver. He holds out his clipboard and she assesses the list while fastening her silver hair in a clip made of seashells.
“The ponchos, Seaver. Quickly.” Her voice is firm but smooth.
“Yes, Professor Nerida.”
Seaver distributes yellow ponchos to the group and I pull mine on gratefully, glad to be protected from the rain. Casey makes a face at her poncho and I giggle. The hideous yellow garment swamps her tight top and plaid skirt. I have an inkling that my new friend has never rocked anything considered this much of a fashion faux-pas.
I shiver and examine the boat, bobbing and creaking in the water. It’s compact, white, and has two levels. How many trips has this boat made over the years? And more importantly — how much longer will it last? Surely a prestigious boarding school can afford a better boat. One that isn’t one bump from sinking.
I spot blue swirling letters painted on the side: “Deep Cove Academy Charter.”
I elbow Casey and point. “At least we know it’s a real place.”
“That will be my last thought before we sink.”
A lump forms in my throat. My nightmare flashes before my eyes. I don’t like the idea of a creaky old boat at the best of times.
The lady that Mr. Seaver called Professor Nerida ushers us towards the boat. Even in an absurd yellow poncho, she looks graceful. “All aboard. One at a time, mind your step. Come now, we don’t have all night.”
The first brave soul steps onto the boat and, miraculously, it doesn’t sink. The line of students slowly files on.
“I hate boats.” I shudder, picking at my nails. “I always think they’re gonna capsize.”
It doesn’t help that I dream about drowning on a regular basis. But there’s no point in telling my new friend about my crazy nightmares.
“Don’t worry — I can promise it’s not going to capsize.” Casey slings a friendly arm around my shoulder. “It’s more likely that the glue holding it together will dissolve and it’ll sink.”
“That’s so much better.”
She shrugs. “The world needs more realists.”
But despite her blasé statement, when it’s her turn to step onto the boat, Casey hesitates the longest.
5
The boat putters and creaks into the open ocean. We’re surrounded by darkening shades of gray as night falls. I’ve never realized how dark it is away from civilization — away from everything.
Quiet murmurs blanket the boat as everyone gets to know each other. There are twelve of us, and we sit in a crooked semicircle on the rickety deck, chatting and sharing stories.
Seaver and Professor Nerida stand away from the group, speaking in hushed voices. I perk up my ears and try to hear over the chattering of the students. No one has the nerve to ask where we’re going and I’m not sure I’m ready to hear the answer.
“Why do you think you got shipped off, anyway? Bad grades last year?” Casey asks.
I hold up my hands and shake my head. “Straight A’s.”
Casey’s face darkens and she looks towards the night sky, where the clouds are parting to reveal clusters of stars. “I don’t get it.”
Talking to the other students, it appears we’re all in the same boat —literally and figuratively.
No one knows why we’re here, no one knows where we’re going, and everyone shares one connection: we’ve all been sent away unexpectedly by our parents.
“My parents told me I was going to boarding school and I packed up,” says James, the kid who’s been keeping his cool. He shrugs and moves his shaggy hair out of his eyes. “I was expelled last year and assumed they were sending me to Correctional School. So I bolted. Obviously, my old man caught up with me and put my ass on a plane to Portland.”
A shiver dances down my spine. Is that where we’re going? Deep Cove Academy is a funny name for a Correctional School.
Before I can say anything, a matronly lady appears from below deck. She has a soft, round face, and her eyes sparkle. She sets down a tray loaded with two steaming canisters and a stack of tin cups.
“Hello, students.” Her voice is melodic. My panic drops away as she speaks. “I’m Matron Dixon, the school nurse. We’re on our way to Deep Cove Academy! You’ll love it, I promise. You may not know it yet, but you’re a lucky group.”
Being shipped away from our family and friends to parts unknown is what she considers lucky?
“You must all be very cold and tired by now,” Matron Dixon says. “Can I interest anyone in some coffee or hot chocolate?”
These are the magic words. Tension melts like frost in the morning sun while Matron Dixon serves hot drinks.
“Some fuel for the evening, dear.” Matron Dixon winks, as I accept a tin mug of coffee and a warm cookie with slightly melted chocolate chips.
I sip my coffee contentedly, feeling warm and fuzzy towards this lovely old lady
. She has the same effect on everyone — the other faces around the circle now look vaguely stunned instead of fully panicked.
She finishes and hurries back below deck. As though a spell has lifted, my anxiety crashes back and my mind dwells on the questionable nature of the situation. Nervous laughter jumps through the group. I’m not the only one wishing Matron Dixon would come back.
Then, Mr. Seaver and Professor Nerida step towards us. A hush falls over the group.
“Attention, students,” she calls, but she needn't have bothered. She has our undivided attention. “My name is Professor Vivienne Nerida and I teach astronomy at Deep Cove Academy.”
Astronomy? Back in Ohio, I would’ve given my left arm to take a high school astronomy class. Studying astronomy is my dream — was my dream. A pang of longing hits me again and I wish, more than anything, that I was back in my bed.
“It's a pleasure to have you join us this year,” Professor Nerida presses on. Her silver hair glows under the moonlight but she’s younger than I thought. Her round eyes have a pale, milky hue that’s a bit unnerving. “We hope that you’ll have a rewarding, and challenging, first semester at Deep Cove as part of our Intake class. I know you’ll recognize the privilege of being accepted to such a prestigious Academy.”
I steel myself. I don’t want platitudes, I want answers.
“I have been at Deep Cove for sixteen wonderful years myself and, I can assure you, it will change your life.” Her voice is melodic, like Matron Dixon’s. “A lot of Intake students feel confused — even anxious — during this leg of the journey. But I assure you, it’s all part of the process. When the morning comes, we’ll be approaching Deep Cove and you’ll know exactly what you're doing here.”
She turns on her heel and marches away with Seaver following silently. I frown, none of my questions have been answered. I feel more confused than ever, but I’m not the only one who feels this way. Casey’s face is crinkled in confusion and even James looks perplexed.
I exhale through my teeth. What I don’t know tonight, I’ll hopefully find out tomorrow. The conversation drifts back to small talk. Sharing bits of normality takes the edge off and allows me to briefly forget the surreal situation that brought us together in the first place.
Casey jokes and laughs with James and the athletic guy — Dennis — so I introduce myself to the small, quiet girl who had her head in her hands earlier.
“I’m Florence,” she says quietly, a shy smile crossing her face. “Flo, for short.”
Flo is tiny, and has fair hair and denim-blue eyes. She looks more lost and scared than the rest of us. Though her face is unfamiliar, I feel like I somehow know her.
Conversation dies as the boat cruises along the water. I gaze at the star-studded sky and rest my head against the edge of the boat. Despite the anxiety eating at my nerves, my body relaxes a bit, as it always does when I look at the stars. Flo leans back, also looking at the stars, and Casey puts her head on my shoulder like we’re old friends.
I’m starting to drift to sleep when I hear it: a distant melody crawling over the ocean’s surface. The tune is strange, unlike anything I’ve heard before, but somehow familiar. It dances across the waves, meant just for me.
Casey is half asleep on my shoulder, but I give her a little shake. “Can you hear that, Case?”
She nods, entranced. Flo sits straight, her eyes closed like she’s bathing in the sound.
The melody inches closer and closer, climbing wave after wave. It slides up the side of the boat and onto the deck, across my body and into my mind. The melody overtakes my senses and everything around me blurs into a white haze. I no longer see my new friends, no longer smell the ocean, no longer hear the waves.
My heartbeat marches to the rhythm and the music carries my mind away. My anxiety and panic fade, a distant memory of another life. It rushes through my veins, filling my body. I would follow it anywhere.
Reality fades into a comforting white light.
6
It’s dark, so dark. The murky depths of the ocean overwhelm me. Long tendrils of black seaweed graze my legs. Ahead, the bulk of the shipwreck haunts the ocean floor. Waiting. It’s all so familiar.
Freezing water rushes into my lungs. I can’t breathe. I can’t scream.
There’s a glint in the distance. Something gold. A necklace?
I move towards it, spellbound. Soon, I see it clearly. A delicate chain holds a pearly orb with an unfamiliar symbol carved on it. It pulses like a heartbeat. There’s life in the necklace.
It’s my way out!
Adrenaline floods my veins and I swim towards it, my hands outstretched. I have to reach it. But every kick is fruitless, drags me further under.
The mast of the shipwreck lets out an ear-splitting crack and falls towards me. There’s no time. I panic and thrash in the water, trying to get away.
And then, the green eyes. Those haunting eyes.
I try to call out, but my scream disappears soundlessly into the abyss. The mast spins towards me. I can’t escape.
It crashes into me, and my world turns to the blackness of oblivion.
My eyes jerk open and I gasp for air. Instead, I choke on saltwater.
I’m in my nightmare, but I’m not underwater. I’m floating, fighting to stay above the surface. Rough currents swirl and try to drag me below. The water crushes me, squeezes the air from my lungs. My body feels impossibly heavy.
Wake up, Maya.
My clothes are anchors pulling me beneath the surface. Freezing waves slash my tired body. The rolling thunder of the tide is louder than a million screams.
Wake up. Please wake up!
I slip below the surface and thrash wildly, but the ocean pulls me further under. It’s alive and trying to drown me. It’s too dark to see, too painful to think. The freezing water encircles me, binds me. It’s cold, so terribly cold. My breath comes in short, ragged, water-choked gasps.
I can’t be awake, can I? This can’t be real. It must be a dream.
My lungs burn and my hands are numb. My clothes are getting heavier and I move to take off my jacket but using my arms for anything other than swimming proves impossible. I slap at the rough swells, trying to stay above the surface.
I gasp for breath, a ragged sound. Did the boat crash? Overturn? Why can’t I remember what happened?
I squint my eyes, try to see through the darkness. Someone must be out there. Someone in a yellow poncho. All I see is an empty black sky and waves the size of houses. There’s no sign of the boat. No sign of the other students. I’m alone and I’m getting tired. My head feels heavy.
I struggle and fight to stay afloat. I need to get out of here. I stretch and try to grasp something, anything. I kick my legs in desperation.
Then, my limbs freeze. I will them to move but they don’t. I’m trapped in a nightmare.
I’m going to drown here. I’m going to die.
I’ve never thought about dying, never took time to ponder my mortality. But here, in this endless ocean, my time has come.
The icy fingers of death caress me. Skeleton hands grasp my ankles and pull me down. Whispers tell me to let go, to stop fighting. My body is ready to die, even though I’m not.
My last thought is barely a whisper as the water greedily pulls me under. I slip into unconsciousness.
7
Silence. I’m at peace. The cold and dark of the ocean is gone, replaced by the warm glow of a flickering light. Like a candle. Is this what happens when you die?
Through the warm glow, I hear soft, melodic voices. The voices harmonize into a song. It’s the same feeling I had on the boat, listening to my very last melody. I almost want to sing along.
Before I can, the voices get louder and come into focus. They’re no longer melodic but harsh whispers. An argument? Why is there arguing after death?
The voices become clearer and I realize that there are two people speaking. Both female and both alarmed. They’re disturbing my perfect peace.
“What was that?” The softer of the two demands. “Aren’t you meant to guide her through the trial? Supervise?”
“Of course I did!” The second voice snaps, exasperated. “She’s an anomaly.”
A gasp from the first speaker. “The trial doesn't have anomalies.”
“It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with.” The second voice is calm now, the tone distant. “I will speak to the Headmaster and sort it out. Leave it with me, and don’t mention this to anyone. In the meantime, please check on her. We’ll get her woken up, settled, and back out to the others. It’s all we can do.”
The first woman reluctantly agrees with the second, and there’s a pause before a weight presses down next to me. A cool palm meets my forehead and I awaken from my death-like state.
My surroundings pull into focus and I gasp for air. The memory of water filling my lungs crashes over me, feeling all too real. My breath is ragged and I gulp in oxygen as though starved. I struggle to break free of the memory of the crushing dark waves, and I look around in a panic.
I’m lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room. My throat closes up. Where am I? Is this a cabin on the boat? It couldn’t be, the boat sank.
I finally zone in on the person sitting on the side of the bed — Matron Dixon. I raise my eyebrows. But I died. What is the Matron doing here?
Her gentle voice startles me. “You’ve been asleep for a long time, dear. How are you feeling?”
I sit up and my head spins wildly. My body feels battered and bruised, and everything hurts. I can’t be in heaven, that’s for sure. “The boat crashed, Matron! I was in the water.”
Her eyes are concerned and she presses her hand to my forehead again.
My breath comes in short gasps and fear overtakes me. The words tumble out. “Where are we? How did we get here? Casey and Flo, are they okay? Where is everyone?”
The Destiny: A YA Paranormal Academy Romance (Deep Cove Academy Book 1) Page 2