Nightmare Academy Part 8

"But if I'm hearing you right, you're saying Jerry should either believe what you're saying, or he's wrong."

"He can believe whatever he wants."

"Then why are you trying to get me to see things your way?" Elijah asked.

Some in the group laughed. Some moaned. Some were sick of the whole discussion. "Let's talk about something else!"

"I'll tell you why!" said Easley, and his usual easy tone grew serious. "Because there's a whole world out there that is plagued by war, starvation, hatred, and bigotry, and some of us feel it just might be worthwhile to help the next generation rise above their petty differences and live in peace and brotherhood. That's what this academy is all about, Jerry and Sally: peace, unity, brotherhood. I believe we can do it. I want all of you to believe it. We've come a long way from the amoeba, folks, and we need to continue the journey as we were meant to do. We need to keep getting better, and then get still better, and then better than that, until we finally get there and we have one, big, peaceful world we can all be proud of." Then he added in a parental, correcting tone, looking straight at Elijah and Elisha. "And all you two are doing is destroying the very things we're about, bringing division, factions, squabbles over words."

It was a stirring speech, and Elijah and Elisha could feel the winds of opinion aligning in Easley's favor. Every other boy and girl eyed them, seeing them as Easley did, as objects of shame and scorn.

Easley's voice softened; he sounded like a preacher giving an altar call. "I think you need to examine your hearts, as all of us are doing, every day, and ask yourselves, what do I really want? To win an argument, or win a friend? To stir up strife, or live in peace? To create factions, or knit together a human family?" He addressed the whole group. "I think it's been a good session. We've been challenged and given a lot to think about. That's it for today"

He started to leave, then paused just long enough to turn and say, "Try sharing something. See how it feels." Then he headed back across the field.

A silence hung over the group like a cold fog. The kids watched Easley for a long, pondering moment before they could finally meet each other's eyes.

Melinda turned to Charlene. "You can share my Walkman."

She nodded and said, "So can you."

Ramon looked through his s.h.i.+rt pocket. "I've got an extra pen if anybody needs it."

Brett called out, "Anybody who wears size 10, I've got a pair of sneakers I don't need."

They all rose from the gra.s.s, picking up ties, shoes, and blazers, and having quiet, peacemaking conversations as they walked away.

"Okay, you can use the shower first."

"You can put your books on my side of the floor; it's okay"

"I don't need those pajamas; you can have them."

No one said a word to Elijah or Elisha.

Except for big, strong Alex. He made a special trip over to the cottonwood to give Elijah a rap on the head. "Think you're pretty smart, huh?" Then he said to Elisha, "I'd stay clear of this guy if I were you." He walked away, indulging in one final sneer over his shoulder.

Elisha could see warning signs in her brother's face and hurried over to touch his arm. "Let it go. We don't need any more attention."

He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and nodded.

Nate and Sarah were busily at work in the back of their van, compiling a database, bit by bit.

A photo of Nelson Farmer, the tall, worried-looking rep from the Bureau for Missing Children, came up on Sarah's computer screen. "Nelson Farmer, Senior Director, been with the Bureau for twelve years." She tapped in the print command and the printer started printing Farmer's bio and resume. She wagged her head, stumped. "The guy looks totally clean. Maybe he has delu sions of power or something, but he's not masquerading. He really does work there."

Nate sat on the other side, his back to her, tapping at another computer and getting nowhere quick. "The sheriff's offices in Idaho have no record of any lost, wandering kid being found."

Sarah spun around. "Please say again?"

"I've checked with all the north and north central counties. There is simply no record of anyone finding Alvin Rogers and turning him over to authorities."

She rolled her chair around to examine the blank report sheet on Nate's computer screen. "In other words, the file has been erased from the records."

"So no one can go back and find out exactly where Alvin was found."

"I don't believe this. How powerful are these people, anyway? They make youth shelters disappear overnight, and now they can hack databases?"

"Well, we both know how easy it is. If these people knew where to look, they could have erased some history, and once the record's gone, it's gone. The first place Alvin shows up as a matter of record is with the Kootenai Medical Center in Coeur d'Alene, right before he was transferred to Harborview. So we do have him popping up in Idaho, but that's all."

There was a loud rap on the pa.s.senger door up front, and then it opened.

It was Charlie. "Nate and Sarah!" He clapped, then rubbed his hands together. "We've found somebody!"

They followed Charlie into the dining hall where they met Tyler, an older teen, nineteen to be exact. His life was much more put together since Charlie and Anita had taken him in three years ago. He was now living with an aunt and uncle in Redding, California, and he was planning to start college in the fall.

"Came up here to visit some friends," he told them, "and Charlie and Anita were two of them."

Charlie and Anita beamed with pride and joy as they all sat together at their quiet, corner table. Charlie explained, "We were talking about things, you know? How it's going and what are his plans, and then I asked him about this Knight-Moore Academy thing, and-" He immediately handed it off to Tyler. "Tell Nate and Sarah about that lady you met."

"Her name wasn't Margaret Jones. It was Suzanne Dorning, and she met me on the street down in Phoenix."

"Phoenix!" exclaimed Sarah. "She's been around, if it's the same woman."

Tyler continued, "She invited me to get on a bus and head out for a summer academy where I could earn some high school credits and meet other kids from all over the country. She made it sound great, but I told her no. Something that sounded that good couldn't be on the up and up."

"Don't suppose you can describe her?" Nate asked.

Tyler thought a moment, then shook his head. "It was three years ago. Don't remember that much. She was kind of a redhead, I think. She was young and pretty"

"How do you even remember her name after so long?"

Tyler reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a wrinkled sc.r.a.p of paper. "She wrote it on the back of the brochure." Nate and Sarah thought their hearts would stop as Tyler slid it across the table. "I stuffed it in my backpack and just left it there. When Charlie asked me about it, I remembered seeing something about an academy and we dug it out."

"Same old backpack!" Charlie wheezed with laughter. "Does G.o.d answer prayer or what?"

The brochure was in color, one sheet triple-folded, and looked like it had been left in a backpack for three years. On the front were the words "Knight-Moore Academy" Inside were photographs of a simple campus in a forested setting, cla.s.srooms full of bright, cheery students with their hands raised-apparently, all of them had the answer-and catchy claims such as, "Get a head start on your educational future," "Learn as you've never learned before," and "We don't just teach history; we make history!" On the back was Suzanne Dorning's phone number and the address of the academy.

"Let's call the number," said Nate.

"I already did," said Tyler. "It's 'disconnected or no longer in service."'

"But we have an address," said Sarah, studying the brochure and copying it down. It wasn't much, just the name of the academy followed by Borland, Colorado. "Wonder if Borland, Colorado, is still there?"

"We're about to find out," said Nate.

Chapter 6: Rules and Power.

he academy offered a cla.s.s in reading and English, with a choice of morning or afternoon sessions. Well, it was afternoon, and the cla.s.s turned out to be mandatory, so Elijah signed up for the 3:00 P.m. session. Happily, Elisha had signed up for the same cla.s.s for the same reasons, and they managed to meet on the walkway fifteen minutes before cla.s.s started.

"Let's take that bench," Elijah suggested, and they quickly moved to a small, concrete bench in the shade of the library, opening their binders and leafing through their materials for the benefit of anyone watching.

"How're you feeling?" Elijah asked.

"I think I'm finally awake," she replied. "Do you remember the bus ride?"

"No."

"Neither do I."

"I think there was something in that soup we ate."

"I think you're right. I've talked to Marcy and some of the other girls in the dorm. None of them remember the bus ride, either."

Elijah made an effort to look like he was checking his cla.s.s schedule and not look perturbed. "Doesn't that bother them?"

She could only wag her head and sigh in frustration. "I think it should, but it doesn't. At least they're acting like it doesn't. Elijah, it's a fantasyland. Everybody's pretending. There's a weird mind game going on here."

"Tell me about it."

"Do you still have your radio?"

"Yeah."

"I have mine, too, but the headphones are gone."

"Oh, so you're sharing."

"Better keep a close eye on your stuff, what there is of it."

"Uh-huh."

"I want to call Mom and Dad every night, whether they can hear us or not, whether we can hear from them or not. We could trade off each night to save batteries."

"Okay. You want to go first, tonight?"

"Okay" She tried to smile and look like they were chatting about any old thing. "So. What are we going to do?"

"Well, we got into this whole thing to investigate, so there's always that."

"Well, yeah, but ..."

"But where's the back door?"

"Exactly. How do we get out of here if we need to? I haven't seen a road anywhere, and where is this place? They won't tell us."

"We've got to contact Mom and Dad, that's priority uno. We need a phone. I'll take a pay phone, a cell phone, anything."

"Haven't seen one. And Bingham said there aren't any"

"There are. These people aren't going to go without phones, even if they expect us to."

Other kids were pa.s.sing by, making a beeline for cla.s.s. Elisha checked her watch. "We'd better get to cla.s.s. Marcy says Mr. Booker is really strict."

Mr. Booker's reading and English cla.s.s convened in a cla.s.sroom-a neat, well-ordered cla.s.sroom. The chalkboards were recently washed. The bookshelves were neatly arranged, with all the books grouped by t.i.tle and with heavy iron bookends holding them in place so not one was lying on its side. There were desks for the girls on the right side of the cla.s.sroom, desks for the boys on the left side, and down the middle, a perfectly straight aisle. Whitman, Hemingway, Th.o.r.eau, and Emerson gazed down from perfectly straight portraits on the walls. There was a certain reserve on the part of the students hurriedly taking their seats; they were talking, but not loudly, and every tie, every blazer, every shoe was present and in place.

Elijah found an empty desk about halfway back-on the left side, of course-and settled in.

Elisha found a desk on the girls' side, front row, on the aisle.

"Hey. Sally, right?"

A young man with bristly black hair and holes in his face where rings and studs used to be was smiling at her.

"That's right," she answered pleasantly. "And you are?"

"Tom Cruise. You know, the movie star?"

She gave him a careful, second look. "You're Tom Cruise?"

He tilted his head back and gave her what must have been a Tom Cruise smile. "Pretty impressive, huh?"

"I'm speechless."

"Yeah, just wanted to introduce myself. I'm-"

He was interrupted by a rather rude backhand to his arm.

It was Alex, with tie straight and every wavy blond hair in place, towering over him with a mean gleam in his eye. "I think you're sitting in my desk, bub."

Mr. Cruise said not a word, but gathered his books and went elsewhere.

Alex sank into the desk, very proud of himself.

Elisha was hoping there was a mistake. "That's your desk?"

Alex just sniffed a laugh. "If he can be Tom Cruise, this can be my desk. Call it like you want it." He leaned toward her, giving her a smile she was supposed to like. "So how do you like the place so far?"

She looked him in the eyes. "I'm not sure I've decided. It's different. It's been very interesting."

He gave her a once-over as he said, "Well, let me tell you, it just got more interesting."

Suddenly, a loud, clear, booming voice at the back door startled everyone in the room. "Alex! I believe you're sitting in a desk reserved for Mr. Cruise!"