Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense (12 page)

The classroom’s door closed with a bang.

“Good, you’re all here,” Agent Vargas strolled across the room.

“This, my little operatives,” he said proudly, “is the new S9 series
Pro slingshot, the latest model. It’s not unlike the S8 you were using before,
but it’s lighter and more precise. It’s built with mystic technology—you’re not
supposed to
miss
with this one.”

The operatives laughed, but Zoey’s insides stirred.

“In today’s class we’re going to freshen up your aim,” continued Agent
Vargas, “and then we’ll move on to shooting at moving targets. It’s important
to note that the slingshots, and all the other weapons that you see on that
table, are only used to
immobilize
hostiles—not to
kill
them.”

Stuart and Claudia laughed at some inside joke, and then they both
stared at Zoey with evil grins on their faces. She hoped they’d try something—it
would give her an excuse to fight Stuart.

Agent Vargas surveyed the operatives intensely. “Weapons training is
a major component of our operative physical training programs. You must pass
marksmanship tests, and you need at least
ninety
percent accuracy with slingshots, handguns, crossbows, and all the other
projectile arms.

“Don’t forget, you’ll be paired with an agent for a field assignment
at the end of the term.”

 
His eyes wandered over to
Zoey. “They will be assessing you, and their grades will determine fifty
percent of your final grade—so no messing around if you want to continue in the
program.”

“Everyone—pick up an S9 slingshot, or any other weapon of your
choosing, and line up in front of the target zone.”

Agent Vargas moved towards the front of the room where a round board
fixed with a tripod was mounted. It looked like the typical archery target with
the colored circles around a middle red dot.

Zoey turned back to the table. Stuart and Claudia each grabbed an S9
slingshot, as did most of the other operatives. The boy named James grabbed a
crossbow, and a girl with short black hair, whom she knew as Stephanie, took
three silver daggers.

Zoey reached out and grabbed the golden boomerang it. It was cool and
smooth in her hand. It weighed no more than a large kitchen knife and was about
twelve inches long. Its golden surface glimmered, and she caught her reflection
in it. Both sides of the wings were curved slightly upwards, and there were finger
grooves for a firm grip. Swirl-like designs were etched into the metal. She had
never held a boomerang before, and this was by far the coolest one she’d ever
seen.

As she turned to join the others, Tristan held a gold bracelet in
front of her.

“This goes with it,” he said as he gave it to her.

“It does?” Zoey took the bracelet and examined it. It was a cuff
bracelet, flat and wide, and made of the same gold metal and with the same
swirl designs on the surface. “How do they go together?”

“You put it on your throwing and catching arm—the boomerang knows to
come back to it—always. You’ll never lose it.”

Zoey put the bracelet on. “But I thought the whole purpose of a
boomerang was to come back to the person who threw it?”

“Yes, but there’s this also.” Tristan took the boomerang from her. He
pressed on it, and it folded in on itself like a pocketknife. Then he placed the
folded boomerang on top of the bracelet where it stuck, as though it was
magnetized.

Zoey moved her arm around. “This is totally awesome. So, how do I
take it off?”

“Like this.” Tristan pressed on the tip of one of the wings, and the
boomerang popped off.

Zoey couldn’t help but be totally impressed. “Wow. Why aren’t there
any others? This is the coolest weapon.”

Tristan gave her back the boomerang. “Because it’s probably the
hardest weapon to use. It’s a lot easier to use a crossbow or a slingshot. I
don’t know anyone who has really mastered it.”

 
“Well, the thing speaks to me.
I don’t know—I love it actually. Call me crazy, but I feel better with this
than with a slingshot.”

Tristan smiled. “It doesn’t matter what you use, as long as you can
handle it.” He walked away leaving Zoey in admiration of her new toy.

“Let’s go, operatives,” said Agent Vargas.

“Pick up your weapons and line up please. You’ll each have a go. Let’s
see how many of you can hit the bulls-eye on the first try.

Tristan laughed at Simon who was aiming at invisible foes, and
making a spectacle of himself.

All the operatives lined up in front of the target. Zoey stood at the
end of the line, behind Simon.

As Zoey twisted the boomerang with her wrist, she caught Stuart
eyeing her.

“What a joke—she’ll never be able to throw it properly,” she heard
him say to Claudia. “No one uses those anymore. They’re like practically
extinct. They don’t work well—the agency stopped producing them
years
ago.”

“Who cares? She’s going to fail anyway,” said Claudia with a bored
expression. Her eyes kept moving to Tristan.

Zoey pretended not to hear them. Besides, the boomerang was having a
strange effect on her, like she was meant to have it. Somehow she felt
empowered by it.

Agent Vargas stood on the left side of the targets. “Pay attention,
I don’t want anyone losing an eye today—and please—try not to
shoot
me.”

He brushed his braid behind his shoulder, and Zoey noticed how he took
a second step to the side. “Now, who’s up first?”

A boy named Billy Beaumont was the first one up. He placed a single
metal ball firmly in the pouch of his slingshot. Even from the back of the line,
Zoey could see sweat trickling down the sides of Billy’s face. He stuck his
tongue out the side of his mouth as he raised his slingshot and aimed. He
pulled the pouch back steadily and released it.

It missed Agent Vargas’s head by a millimeter and hit the wall far to
the left of the target and rolled on the floor.

“I see that your aim hasn’t improved, Billy,” said Agent Vargas. He
raised his eyebrows, and the entire class laughed.

“Sorry, Agent Vargas,” said Billy looking utterly horrified at nearly
blinding the agent.

“Back at the end of the line, please, Billy,” said Agent Vargas. “And
that goes for everyone. You can’t leave today until you’ve
hit
somewhere
on
the
target. As third term operatives, you should be hitting the target easily—no
one should be missing.”

Zoey started to get nervous. She had never thrown a real boomerang
before. She had pretended that a stick was a real boomerang during the orphan
war against the rich kids. The stick had worked miracles then, and she had hit
one of the rich kids on the nose. But would she have the same luck today? Had
she been a fool to select it? She could have taken a foolproof slingshot. What
if she was worse than Billy? What if she
never
hit the target?

Stuart gave her an icy smile. He was hoping for her to miss, and he
seemed very confident that she would.

It was
Nela
Singh’s turn next. She cleared
her long, black hair away from her face, lifted her slingshot, her body
straight, and shot. Boom. It hit the target on the edge of the largest circle.
The class erupted in cheers.

“Well done,
Nela
. And keep your elbows in,
you’ll get a better shot next time,” said Agent Vargas. He pointed towards a
row of paper targets at the other end of the room

“You can keep practicing over there until the end of the class.
Next!”

One by one the operatives either hit or missed the target. Those who
missed had to get back in the line behind her. Zoey didn’t want to miss. When
it came to Stuart’s turn, he pulled his slingshot lazily and hit his mark. As
he sauntered away he sneered at Zoey.

Soon it was Tristan’s turn. Lifting his slingshot, he turned his
upper body slightly to the left, aimed, and fired.
WHACK
. The ball hit the bull’s-eye red dot.

“Perfect hit, as always. Well done, Tristan.” Agent Vargas patted
him on the back.

“How can anyone beat that? Not all of us are born disgustingly hot
and perfect,” said Simon who looked a little green as he prepared to shoot. But
he too hit the target and looked as surprised as everyone else around him.
“See? See? Told you all I could do this. I’m a natural.”

It was Zoey’s turn.

At first the boomerang slipped in her sweaty palm, but she griped it
firmly and positioned herself, careful not to step over the tape shooting line
on the ground.

Agent Vargas frowned slightly when he saw what she held in her hand.
Her stomach twisted. She could hear the others laughing at her over the
thundering of her heart. Stuart’s laugh was louder than all the others. Her
nerves were replaced by anger when she heard him. Using that anger, she was
able to concentrate even harder. The world around her disappeared. She and the
target were alone in the room. She focused all her attention on the little red
dot.

Somehow, it came naturally to her—she knew exactly what to do.
Raising her right arm, she bent her elbow and angled the boomerang slightly to
the right. She pinched the edge with her fingers and thumb and pitched the
boomerang like a baseball, snapping her wrist at the end.

The boomerang shot out of her hand with a counterclockwise spin. It
flew like a bullet in an arch, smacked the target head on, and then spun back
straight at Zoey. She jumped slightly to the left and caught the boomerang easily
with her right hand. The force of the spin stung her palm, but she didn’t let
go.

“Wow, that was amazing,” said Tristan. “I’ve never seen anyone throw
a boomerang like that. You’ve done this before, right?”

Zoey stared at the gold boomerang in her hands and smiled. “No, I
haven’t. I can’t believe I
hit
it. I
actually hit it
and
caught it.”

For a moment, Zoey felt empowered holding her boomerang. She felt
she could accomplish anything. She looked into Tristan’s dark eyes and felt
goose bumps. He made her feel nervous and giddy all at the same time. She
turned away quickly, afraid that he would see the flush on her face.

The look of surprise on Stuart’s face was the icing on the cake.
Zoey couldn’t keep from smiling.

Agent Vargas raised his brows. “Well, I guess Tristan’s not the only
one who’s gifted.”

He smiled at Zoey. “I’ve never seen anyone handle a boomerang quite
like you just did, Zoey—it was magical—and very surprising. No one has ever
wanted to use that boomerang after what happened to Jimmy.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but who’s Jimmy? And what happened to him?” said
Zoey.

“Jimmy,” said Agent Vargas, “was an operative before my time. The
story is that poor Jimmy thought he could throw that
same
boomerang—but when he did, the boomerang came back, and he
lost an eye.”

Zoey made a face. Agent Vargas continued, “Apparently, his eye
popped out and made a horrible mess. The girls screamed and someone stepped on
it—can you imagine?”

“Trying hard not to,” said Zoey, disgusted.

“Since then, no one ever dared to use it again, and the agency
stopped producing the boomerangs all together. I’m surprised it was still here.
It should have been thrown away years ago.”

Zoey admired her boomerang. “But it wasn’t. It was waiting for me.”

Agent Vargas raised his eyebrows. “I guess it was.”

Zoey folded her boomerang and fastened it back against her bracelet
where it fit perfectly. She looked back at Tristan who was positively beaming. “Did
Jimmy ever make agent?”

Zoey’s question was interrupted by a booming siren.

The ground shook as the sound blasted through the academy. It was
like a bomb had exploded. The operatives froze in silent terror.

“What’s happening?” Zoey shouted over the deafening alarm.

Tristan shook his head and yelled, “That’s the central alarm. I
think we’re under attack!”

A
gent Vargas pulled a large gun
from under his shirt.

“Everyone! Stay inside the room! Nobody leaves this room until I
come back!”

And with that, he sprinted out the door faster than Zoey thought a
man his size could move.

“What do we do now?” Simon paced around the room and pulled at his
hair. “This isn’t a drill—this is the real deal—isn’t it? I think I’m going to
be sick.”

“You’re not going to be sick, Simon,” scolded Zoey. “Just hang on. Agent
Vargas will be back, and he’ll tell us what’s going on. Meanwhile, we wait.”

The siren stopped.

They heard screams. Then a monstrous roar, like the growl of a
dinosaur, sounded just outside their room. The ground shook as though an
earthquake had hit, and then Zoey could feel the booming thumps of something
massive approaching the room.

The door blasted off its hinges and hit the floor with a thunderous
bang. A beast the size of a bull walked through. Its muscles bulged, but its wet,
red, raw-looking skin looked like it was decomposing. It had a long neck and the
body of a reptile, with four legs and black talons. It searched the room with
dull gray eyes. Zoey was horrified to think that the red stains on the rows of
pointy, yellow teeth in its huge maw might be blood from its victims. Three
other little necks with angry, snapping jaws grew out from the base of its neck
like a necklace. They moved around like little snakes with milk-white eyes. If
the big mouth didn’t get you, then the backup mouths would. The classroom
reeked of rotten flesh.

Zoey’s blood turned to ice. She had never seen anything so
terrifying.

“What is that?” whispered Simon. He took a step behind Tristan.

“A
Krakenite
,” answered Tristan.

“They’re killers who like to tear the meat off their victims. I know
that they don’t see very well, and that they rely mostly on their sense of
smell. They’re hostile mystics.”

“No—you think?” said Simon sarcastically, his voice rising. “I
hadn’t noticed its big pointy teeth with blood on them! If this is the agency’s
new way of testing us, they’re crazy! I quit!”

Zoey turned to Tristan. “How did something so big and dangerous get
in here?” she asked, but somehow she already knew the answer.

“With the stolen interloper,” said Tristan. His expression darkened,
“Someone let it in on purpose.”

Simon threw his hands in the air. “That’s just great! But why is it
here
? What have
we
got to do with it?”

The
Krakenite
moved its large head back
and forth, as though it was trying to locate a smell. And then, moving as one, all
the monster’s heads, including the little ones, turned in Zoey’s direction. Even
though the creature looked blind, somehow she knew it was staring right at her.

“Okay, is it me or is that thing looking at Zoey?” said Simon,
poking his head from behind Tristan.

As if on cue, the decomposing mystic bellowed in rage and charged
directly at Zoey.

But Tristan was there. He pushed Zoey behind him, pulled a small
pocketknife from his pocket, and threw it. The blade flew straight and
perforated the
Krakenite’s
left eye. White liquid
burst out it like the insides of a shattered egg.

The creature roared and thrashed around the classroom. Its massive
arms and tail exploded the desks in splinters of wood and sent the chairs flying.
The operatives scattered like frightened mice, but not fast enough. Billy was
hit by a desk, crumbled to the ground, and didn’t move.

“Everyone get out! Quickly!” yelled Zoey.

She didn’t have to say it twice. The operatives sprinted out the
classroom leaving Zoey, Tristan, Simon, and an unconscious Billy.

The knife in its eye only seemed to have angered the beast. Once it
stopped thrashing, it settled its remaining eyes on Zoey again. It reared and
then bounded towards Zoey at an incredible speed. Its razor sharp teeth were angled
for her head.

Zoey leaped out of the way and rolled on the floor, but she was not
fast enough. One of the creature’s smaller jaws tore into the flesh on her left
side. She cried out in pain as wet blood began to trickle down her back. She
could see it on the creature’s teeth. Her flesh was on fire. She held her
injured side with her right hand.

“Hey, ugly! Stinky!” yelled Tristan as he tried to get the beast’s
attention.

It ignored him completely, sneered, and turned back towards Zoey.

“Simon, get Billy out of here!” cried Zoey, “It’s me it wants. Get
out of here, now!”

She reached over ever so slowly and unfastened her boomerang with
her left hand.

 
“Gotcha.” Simon scurried over
to Billy’s unconscious body. He slapped him in the face to wake him up,
realized it didn’t work, and then grabbed his arms and pulled him out of the
room.

Zoey looked over to Tristan. “I’ll keep it busy—you go get help.”

“No!” Tristan picked up a half broken chair and wielded it before
him like a shield. “I’m not going anywhere without you, forget it.”

“It wants me, not you.”

Tristan leaped across the room and stood protectively in front of
Zoey.

“I don’t care. You’re hurt, and I’m not leaving you. We’ll fight
this thing together. Simon will get help.”

For an instant, Zoey thought she saw a halo of blue light emanate
from Tristan’s skin, but then it was gone—probably a trick of the light.

With an angry roar, the
Krakenite
charged.

Tristan whacked the beast with the force of a superhero. The broken
chair exploded off the
Krakenite
, and the beast staggered
and then fell back.

“How did you—” began Zoey, in shock at Tristan’s strength.

Tristan faced her. “We need to get an agent. We don’t have anything strong
enough to defeat it—”

But the
Krakenite
thrashed its tail into
Tristan, and he flew through the air like a ragdoll. He hit the wall with a
sickening crack, slid to the ground, and was still.

Before Zoey could register what had just happened, the
Krakenite
swung its massive tail into her chest. It was
like being hit by a tree. She flew into the air and hit the ground with a thud.
She was winded, and as she struggled to regain her breath she felt wetness
dripping onto her face. She blinked and looked up. The beast’s jaws drooled
just above her.
Its
warm, rancid breath was choking
her. It was going to kill her.

Her fear disappeared and the adrenaline of anger surged through her
limbs. She was not going to die today. She grabbed her boomerang tightly with
both hands.

The
Krakenite
opened its jaws and lowered
its head.

With strength she didn’t know she possessed, Zoey stabbed the end of
boomerang into the creature’s good eye. She pushed it deep into the monster’s brain
and twisted it. The creature breathed heavily once and then fell on top of her,
dead.

Zoey tried to move, but it was like trying to push a boulder. It
hurt to breathe, and the smell was making her dizzy. She was suffocating under
the putrid creature. This wasn’t how she planned on dying.

And then she heard laughing.

“What are you doing down there?” Tristan stared down at her with a
smirk. He had a cut on his forehead but otherwise looked unharmed.

The blood was rushing to Zoey’s head. “Can’t…breathe…help…me!”

Tristan used his back to lift the dead
Krakenite
high enough for Zoey to slip out. Her jeans and T-shirt were covered in a
semitransparent, sticky substance like gelatin. She smelled her hands and made
a face. She smelled like a mixture of bile and garbage that had stood in the
sun for too long.

Tristan inspected the boomerang. It was still embedded in the
Krakenite’s
skull.

“Like I said, I’ve never seen anyone use a boomerang like that.
After this, I’m sure the agency’s going to start producing them again.”

“I doubt it,” said Zoey, still breathing heavily. She inspected
herself again. “I can’t remember the last time I smelled like manure—”

A woman screamed suddenly.

Zoey and Tristan looked at each other.

“It came from the main hall,” said Tristan as he turned towards the
door.

Zoey leaped over to the dead
Krakenite
. She
pulled with all her might and yanked her boomerang out of the
Krakenite’s
skull with a wet suction noise.

When she turned around, Tristan was smiling.

“What?” she said. “You said it yourself—this is probably the only one—I’m
not leaving it to rot in this creature’s head.” She flashed him a smile.

Without another word, Zoey followed Tristan out the door and into
the hall.

It was a chaotic scene. Bloodied bodies lay scattered everywhere. Another
Krakenite’s
severed head lay several feet away from
its body in a large red puddle. The smell brought tears to Zoey’s eyes. The walls
and floors were smeared in blood, as though someone had thrown buckets of red
paint around. She could hear cries and moans. Those who were still alive were
busy attending to the wounded or covering the dead with pieces of clothing. She
didn’t recognize any of the dead.

Agent Barnes and Agent Lee came running down the hall to Zoey and
Tristan.

“Simon said there was another
Krakenite
?
Where is it now” said Agent Barnes urgently as he brandished a large double-barrel
rifle,

“Dead,” said Tristan. “Zoey whacked it good in the skull with her
boomerang.”

Both agents gave her a look of surprise, and Zoey gave them a little
smile. “It wasn’t as cool as Tristan says, but it’s dead.”

“You’re bleeding.” Agent Lee handed Zoey a handkerchief from inside
his jacket.

She took it and pressed it against her wound.

“Thank you,” she said awkwardly, not used to Agent Lee being kind to
her. Maybe he had forgiven her about the kick.

“Guys!” Simon collapsed beside them. He was breathing heavily. “Oh,
man, am I glad you’re okay. I thought the
Kradelite
had
finished you both. That would have clearly sucked.”

“
Krakenite
,” corrected Tristan.

“That’s what I said,” said Simon.

“But how did you do it? Did you get it on film? Please say that you
got me some cool shots?”

Agent Barnes heaved his rifled on his shoulder. “According to
Tristan, Little Red here took care of it for us. Nailed it right in the brain—dead.
I would have paid money to see that.”

He winked at her, and Zoey felt the blood rush to her ears.

Simon’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “You
brainorized
it?
Coooool
.”

Then he lowered his voice. “You think I could take a picture of you
and the
Kranelite
side by side?”

“Maybe some other time, Simon,” said Zoey feeling a little
self-conscious. She really didn’t want to go near another
Krakenite
for a while; its smell made her dizzy.

Agent Barnes’ face was flushed and sweaty. He wiped his brow with
the back of his hand. “I’m glad you guys are safe.
Ew
!—This
is a real rotten mess. We need to dispose of these
Krakenites’s
bodies before they stink up the entire hive. How many casualties?”

“Six dead and ten injured,” answered Agent Lee. He turned towards the
dead
Krakenite
. “The way it was sniffing out a
particular scent—my guess is they were looking for something or someone.”

Tristan and Simon both looked at Zoey. The
Krakenite
was
looking for her—but why? Why did
it want to kill her? She had never even seen one before?

“We all know how they got through the Nexus,” continued Agent Barnes.
He hadn’t noticed the strange looks Simon and Tristan had given Zoey.

“Who knows what else will be slipping through to our world? There
are worst things than
Krakenites
in the Nexus—much,
much worse.”

Agent Vargas arrived with bloody towels in his hands.

“You three,” he pointed at Zoey, Tristan, and Simon, “come with me.
The injured need help. And I need all the help I can get.”

The three of them followed Agent Vargas down the main hall to an
area where the wounded had been placed in a row. All her classmates, even
Billy, were attending to the wounded. Billy’s head was wrapped with a bandage,
but he seemed okay otherwise. Women and men cried over the dead bodies, and Zoey
felt a pain in her chest—they had died because of her.

“Here,” Agent Vargas gave them towels and bandages. “Wrap them up as
best you can—tightly, to stop the bleeding. Help is on the way.”

Tristan and Simon went to help the wounded right away, but Zoey couldn’t
move.

Screeching resonated down the hall and she turned around. Two men in
white uniforms rushed in pushing stretchers on screeching wheels. They stopped beside
a woman whose abdomen was bleeding profusely. They lifted her up gently, placed
her on one of the stretchers, and then wheeled her away down the hall and
around the corner.

“Where are they taking them?” asked Zoey, her mouth dry as she tried
to swallow.

“To the medical bay.” Agent Vargas rushed to help lift a young man
covered in blood up onto the other stretcher.

Zoey had no idea they had a medical bay. She had never seen it or
heard anyone talk about it before now. She stared at the wounded and couldn’t shake
off the feeling that she was responsible for the attacks. It felt like a bad
dream. If it were true that the
Krakenites
had come
to kill her—
why
were they trying to
kill her? Who was she to them?