Helsing Academy: A Paranormal Fantasy Series (Overcity Chronicles Book 1) Page 2

  An envelope.

  I nudged Kiva in the ribs as I headed toward it. “Looks like Amber may have dropped something,” I said. “You think we should bring it to the office so—”

  I froze with my fingers on the envelope, stunned into silence. There was a name on the front, but it wasn’t Amber’s.

  It was mine.

  With trembling hands, I handed it to Kiva, wanting to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Kiva read the name and gasped quietly.

  “Holy crap…You’re in.”

  Chapter 2

  There are moments when your whole life changes. This was one of them.

  I read the invitation several times over in the fading light, struggling to register its implications. I wouldn’t be mated after all; I would be going to the Academy.

  And Kiva would be coming with me.

  The ribbon-wrapped goodbye gift I was clutching in the crook of one arm seemed suddenly, wonderfully superfluous.

  “Of course they had to let you in,” said Kiva. “It would have been an injustice if they hadn’t,” Kiva said staunchly, but there was no mistaking the abject relief on her face.

  That had been way too close for comfort.

  “Where did this missive even come from?” I held tight to the paper as though afraid it might disappear. “Why couldn’t they have just handed it to me in class, like they did with everyone else?”

  “Maybe it slipped out of the postman’s bag.” Kiva was clearly too elated by the letter’s contents to care much how I had gotten it. “Anyway, we need to get you home. Your parents are going to flip out when we tell them!”

  Would they, though? I wasn’t so sure. My mother had long since accepted that I’d be mated and seemed to be fine with it. During a recent dinner, she had even brought up the subject of grand-babies—this despite the fact that there was currently no man in the picture.

  “I hope they don’t take it badly.”

  “Why on earth would they?” said Kiva. “Being accepted into the Academy is a huge honor. Anyway, they’re going to find out eventually so there’s no point in putting it off. I bet they’ll be super excited!”

  Kiva’s enthusiasm was reassuring. Taking me by the arm, she led me out of the building into the dusky sunlight. In the tall grass on either side of us, a rapturous chorus of crickets was chirping like a symphony of cellos. In the town square, we passed a young girl blowing bubbles with a pink plastic wand while her brother looked on resentfully, impatiently awaiting his turn. A few feet away, a couple boys were donning the cowboy costumes they had gotten in the Delivery—hats, boots, belts, and a long lasso. The main street at this hour was crowded with horse-drawn carts, bicycles and mopeds. We’d seen plenty of movies on our VCRs, so we knew that many countries on the mainland used large engine-powered cars to get around, but that was hard to imagine here on the island.

  Near the center of the square stood a post where a small crowd had gathered, the ones in the back straining to peer over the shoulders of those ahead of them. The daily news bulletin, The Bugle, had just been posted.

  Kiva nudged me and we headed in that direction. Prominent on the front page was a black-and-white picture of one of our Elite squads, two men and four women joyfully beaming with their arms around each other, their faces blacked out above the mouth to help protect their identities in the event the island was ever discovered and infiltrated by bloodsuckers. Intrigued, I waited for the crowd to thin before stepping up and reading the accompanying article.

  Valiant Team Five Victorious in Vanquishing Vampire Vermin

  by Leslie Snow-Ashby

  A raid on an especially murderous vampire colony in Undercity London during the early hours of yesterday morning by an elite team of hunters resulted in four confirmed kills. The six members of Team Five—each of them former students of Helsing Academy on Mount Manna—sustained no injuries in the assault.

  “It was the first time I had confronted real vampires at close quarters,” said an unnamed member of Team Five, speaking on condition of anonymity. “It was like one of the VHS tapes that we watched as part of our training. I guess it never occurred to me that we would be part of something like that.”

  Asked whether they had been in any danger, the member said, “Oh, of course. They’re unbelievably strong, and their senses are sharper than you could imagine. Not that I was ever worried, not with the rest of the team surrounding me at all times. You couldn’t ask for a more supportive bunch.”

  The article went on in the same vein, with two additional members of Team Five being interviewed. I felt my pulse racing as I reached the end and waited for Kiva to finish.

  “You think that’ll ever be us?” she asked.

  “If only!” I had a sudden vision of our pictures plastered against the front page of The Bugle. Everyone on the island would read it; children might even ask for our autographs. Most importantly, though, we’d be on the front lines ridding the world of monsters. A job that would hopefully allow us to go back to the mainland one day, free of fear. Free to roam the streets without looking over our shoulders. Free to leave our homes at night without risking imminent death. Free to mate if we wanted, when we wanted.

  Kiva’s voice stirred me out of my thoughts. “I know it would never happen, but I would love it if we ended up on the same team together.”

  “Maybe they’ll let us be roomies,” I said, though without much hope. Truth be told, I didn’t know much about what daily life was like at the Academy; former students rarely discussed it. The first students had only graduated from the Academy five years ago and had only been active in missions for three, having spent a full two years planning and running simulated operations. Active members of the Elite Squad now lived in a separate base on Mount Manna where they spent nearly all their time training for new missions.

  I pictured it being a bit like the Navy SEALs in the VHS tapes of GI Jane and The Abyss that we would watch, back when we used to get movies in our Deliveries.

  “I’d love to know what really goes on up there,” I said to Kiva as we walked home beneath a salmon-colored sky. “How does one become an elite vampire-hunter? What kind of training are they going to put us through?”

  “Maybe they don’t tell us because then everyone would be a potential target for information if the island were ever under attack and they were ever captured?” said Kiva. “It’s probably for their own protection.” She went silent for a moment and shot me an excited glance. “I still can’t believe we’re going to be together. Has it occurred to you that maybe the worst bits of our lives are behind us?”

  “God, I wish.” At least I would never have to relive the unspeakable awkwardness of school. In a few weeks, I would be leaving home forever—not to start a family but to train in the mountains. I’d be an adult making my own decisions. People would look to me for protection; the safety of the island might even hinge on my choices. Somehow, the prospect was terrifying, humbling, and thrilling all at once. In the brief time it took us to walk from town center back to the house, I could feel the bonds of childhood slipping away.

  I was grown now. I still didn’t know what that fully meant, but I’d better figure it out.

  And fast.

  When we reached the house, I found Dad kneeling in the carrot patch with his hands half-buried in the dirt. Every home on the island had a garden, and ours was stocked with carrots, radishes, sweet potatoes, onions, and cassava. Sensing that Kiva would tell him if I didn’t, I said, “Dad, you’ll never guess what just happened!”

  Dad took off his floppy hat and mopped his sweaty face with one hand. “Do I have to guess, or will you tell me?”

  “I got into the Academy!” The words still didn’t sound right, as if I was lying. But I had the missive in my hands to prove it. “I got an invite and everything! I don’t even know how—like, what did they see in me?”

  Kiva, perhaps sensing that this was a private moment, gripped my right hand in a gesture of farewell. “I’ll check you later, Anna,” she said, “be ready for me first thing tomorrow,” then turned and disappeared up the garden path.

  I wished she had stayed; the moments that followed were uncomfortably tense. Dad pulled me into a deep hug and held me there for a strangely long time. Although dinner was waiting for us in the kitchen, he seemed reluctant to go inside, and stood in the carrot patch talking absently about the incoming crop and how Mr. and Mrs. Jareth next door were growing persimmon trees that took up most of their daily water ration. He asked if I wanted to assist him in picking some baby onions for the salad and I obliged with a feeling of growing and inexplicable sadness.

  We were interrupted by the arrival of my youngest sibling, Colby, who was four. “Mom wants to know what’s taking so long. She said you were ‘lollygagging’ and I asked her what that meant.”

  “It means that sometimes your mother is very impatient,” said Dad. “Your sister has some good news, though.”

  “Can it wait until dinner?” said Colby, clutching his belly dramatically. “I’m starving!”

  “Here, have a chocolate.” I reached into the box of chocolates and handed him a glazed caramel. He eyed it suspiciously—normally he wasn’t allowed to have treats before dinner.

  “Alright, why are you in such a good mood?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

  “Because, sweet boy, your big sister is going to Helsing Academy,” I said proudly. Something about saying it to Colby made it seem real. The spell of disbelief that had been on me ever since reading the missive broke.

  “Which one?” he asked, scratching at his chin with a puzzled expression.

  No way my head would get too big with this lot.

  “Me, silly,” I said, ruffling his golden hair.

  “Wow, cool!” he said, stuffing the caramel in his mouth and then scampering toward the house. Dad and I followed and I shoved aside the last of my apprehensions. Of course everyone was surprised. I was, too. But this was a good thing, to be celebrated.

  Balancing the basket of carrots and onions atop my head, I came in through the back door yelling, “GUESS WHO’S GOING TO MOUNT MANNA?”

  My two younger sisters, Lena and Brynn, stared incredulously. Wise Natasha, however, looked on, silent as a statue.

  “I don’t get it. What’s your power?” she asked finally, trying to sound casual, like the answer didn’t matter as she crunched on an apple she’d gotten at the Delivery.

  At fourteen years old, Natasha and I were the closest in age, and Tash had the most at stake here, so I totally understood her interest. The fact that I got selected this late was too good to be true. Like being rescued from the guillotine moments before it dropped. For Tash, who had so far displayed no evidence of enhanced abilities, either, the very thought that hers might just be late in coming and then show up out of the blue was a beacon of hope.

  A beacon I was about to have to extinguish.

  “Great question. I have no clue, to be honest. Maybe one of my teachers saw something in me…”

  What that might be, I didn’t know. Unless there was some use for sarcasm, wit or a killer grilled cheese sandwich in our coming clash against the vamps, I was fairly certain I’d be useless.

  “Don’t say that, sweetheart,” my father said as he came over and looped his arm around my shoulders to pull me close. “You have so many gifts. They’d be crazy not to want you.”

  It was only then that I realized my mom had been completely silent, still in the corner of the tiny kitchen scrubbing at the same pot with her back to me.

  It took me a minute to realize her shoulders were shaking.

  “Mom?” I said, my stomach dropping. I pulled myself away from my dad’s embrace and padded toward her. “Are you crying?” I asked as I closed my hand over her delicate wrist and tugged.

  When she looked up at me—she was a shrimp at only five feet tall—her face was wet with tears and her eyes were glassy with more to come.

  “I’m sorry, Anna. I truly am happy for you. I’m being very selfish and crying for me right now, so I was hoping to stop before you saw. Please don’t let this dampen your excitement, honey. I’ll be fine,” she said with a loud sniffle and a swipe at her eyes.

  I reached behind her and turned off the running water—it was a precious commodity some dry years—and patted her hair in an awkward attempt at comfort.

  “Are you sad because I’m moving away?”

  Her laugh held no joy. “Moving away? No, Anna. I’d love if you were going off to a regular college. I’m sad because you could’ve been given a nice boy to mate with and been safe down here, giving me grand-babies. Instead, you’re going to be risking your life for this cause. It’s a cause I believe in. It’s a cause I love. But not as much as I love you.”

  Her passionate declaration rang out in the silent room as I tried to process her words.

  I had never even thought about that. She’d never mentioned her fears when I was growing up, but it seemed so obvious now. Why wouldn’t she be afraid for me? Especially me, her unremarkable daughter, with no discernible skills to help her protect herself.

  “I’ll be careful, Mom. I promise. And the school won’t let me actually fight if I’m not ready or don’t reach my potential. You know that’s true.”

  She nodded and forced a watery smile. “You’re going to do great there, Anna. I’m pulling for you. I just needed to have my little moment, is all. And I’m sorry you had to see it. Now let me finish up here and I’ll come help you pack, okay?”

  I nodded and turned back toward my dad, who looked like he wished he could’ve scooped her up and carried her away somewhere.

  “Can I have your room?” nine-year-old Brynn piped up, unknowingly breaking the tension hanging over us all.

  We all laughed and I headed toward my bedroom, thoughts racing. I’d never thought much past getting into the Academy. I don’t think any of us did. The focus was always there, as opposed to what came afterward, but my mom was right. This was a dangerous path, fraught with peril…

  And still, I’d take it over shooting out babies I unwillingly made with some stranger. At least I’d have some control over my life this way. I could make a difference.

  This was a good thing, I reminded myself yet again.

  But even as I packed my bags, a tiny nugget of fear mixed with uncertainty lodged deeper into my heart.

  Chapter 3

  When I awoke the next morning, it was still dark out. Faint splashes of pink tinged the eastern sky in watercolor strokes. I’d barely slept the night before and my back ached from tension.

  This was it. This was the day.

  After rinsing my face in the sink and brushing my teeth, I padded down the hallway into the kitchen, trying not to let my nerves show.

  I found Mom standing at the window watching the sunrise.

  “You hungry?” she asked when I came in. “I made grits and potatoes—and I thought you might like to have an egg this morning. Sheeba never gives me as many as she gives you when it’s your week to manage the coop, but I got two out of her this week, and three out of Myrtle.” She scooped the food onto a plate and set it at the head of the dining-room table. “Your dad should be down in a minute.”

  I wondered if she was going to bring up what we had talked about the night before, or if we were just going to let it go. The door opened and Dad came into the room immaculately dressed in a pinstripe suit and a pair of dark slacks.

  “Hey, pumpkin,” he said, stifling a yawn. “You ready for your big day?”

  Like Mom, he didn’t seem to have slept much the night before. I had an odd feeling they had stayed up most of the night talking. During breakfast, he poked absently at his single egg and made occasional feints at conversation: Natasha had been accepted into a summer program where she would be mentoring younger teens and Brynn was joining a summer reading group at the library.

  “Do we have to talk?” asked Mom gently when he started to ramble, though I could sense a note of desperation in her voice.

  “Hon, it’s our last meal.” Dad reached for Mom’s hand. “We’re not going to sit here in silence.”

  Dad bore his sorrows quietly and it hadn’t occurred to me that he might be just as upset over my departure as Mom was. They’d always seemed so stoic, it was weird to see them displaying such grief at my leaving the house.

  “Look,” I said finally, “I know how hard this is, but I would a thousand times rather do this than be a mom and mated at this age. No offense, Mom.”

  “No, I get it,” said Mom. “I just worry about you, is all. I have no idea what goes on up there and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “The Academy will look after me.” I spoke with more confidence than I felt. Life at the Academy was shrouded in such mystery that it was hard to know what, precisely, would be expected of me. Somehow, though, I felt sure it was better than the alternative. “Anyway, it would help me to feel better about this if you both didn’t worry so much.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” said Dad, though the tremor in his voice suggested that he felt otherwise. “I know I don’t say this often, but out of all my children, I’ve always felt you were the strongest. We didn’t have to look after you as much because you could take care of yourself. So independent. It will serve you well.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I gripped his wrist reassuringly. “That means a lot.”

  Kiva came to the door after breakfast with bags in hand.

  My parents followed us to the door and both held me tight before pulling away.

  “Remember--”

  “I know. Write you the second I get there and once a week thereafter. I won’t forget.”

  “And we’re only ten miles away down the mountain if you need us,” Dad added.

  “Okay. Tell the other kids I love them and I’ll see them soon.”

  Once I said goodbye to my mother and father and gave them each a long hug, Kiva and I left.

  “Did yours cry?” Kiva mumbled once we were a few yards away.