The Venator

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The Venator - book excerpt

The Academy for the gifted…Unknown, isolated location.

Hello? I stood in a long hallway. It looked like the walls of a high school with the tall lockers covering both sides of the aisle.

Who are you? I heard her voice before I saw her in the distance.

I’m... her deep brown eyes stared hard into me. I wanted to go to her, but I was afraid. I couldn’t understand that, I feared nothing.

Hello?

A man in a white suit appeared behind her, I recognized the apparel. I felt his intentions, but didn’t know how I sensed his secrets. I ran toward the end of the hall and came from around him just as she fell to the floor in front of him. I rushed to block him.

“Move away from the girl,” he ordered.

My eyes narrowed back, still blocking his path. I couldn’t move. I knew what I should do, what I had to do. However, when I looked at him, it was obvious he knew I was going to defy him. But why was I going to do that? I always obeyed. All I knew for sure was that I had to keep her safe.

My head shook. “You can’t hurt her. She’s… done nothing.” But when had that ever mattered? And why should it now? I looked down at her as she sat on the floor, unable to move, because of the ugly metal necklace wrapped around her throat. She was beautiful, and I knew that I would do anything to keep her safe.

“You love her,” His statement confused me. His eyes were smiling at me as he realized the truth.

Did I love her? Was that my reason for stopping this hideous act? Had I found my weakness?

“Oh, John,” Dr. Nicholson said around a disappointed scowl, “she’s nothing more than a girl. A mere girl. And you are far more…” His grip tightened on the gun in his holster.

I watched as he pulled the weapon free and darted his blue eyes back to me. Then, pointed the gun at her. She trembled, her eyes staring up at him. I didn’t have to see to know her brown eyes were pleading for her life.

“Don’t. Please, don’t,” I begged for the girl who couldn’t find her own voice.

He glared over at me. “You did this to her. Your job was simple. Now, you’ve brought her into it. I have no choice. You know how this works.”

“You don’t have to kill her, please!” I couldn’t believe my own words, or the pitch in which they were delivered. The sound of my voice was strange to my own ears. John Slater begging, it was no wonder Dr. Nicholson seemed disappointed.

“I have no use for a mere girl. So, she has to die.”

He fired. My cries were muffled by the blast of gunfire….

“John… John?”

The voice was clear as it rang through my mind. But that was impossible. I couldn’t hear voices. Could I?

Who was that girl and why did I feel compelled to help and protect her? What was Dr. Nicholson doing in my dreams? Why was I defying his orders for her? Was this the cause of an overworked mind? The nerves of the next phase of my training, perhaps? I couldn’t make sense of all the questions the dream had brought on.

The alarm blared, and I jolted out of bed with the other recruits. From metal bunks they climbed out and pulled on socks and boots. Within seconds, I was standing at the foot of my bed for roll call. Up and down the rows of military bunks, young men were arranged in a perfect line on the white tile. The fluorescent lights that had flashed on the moment the alarm went off blinded me. There was never a time I lived outside of The Academy.

Like the other boys in this room, my hair was cropped short, barely showing its sandy brown color; there was not a long strand in sight. I focused my green eyes straight ahead. Curiosity was not encouraged.

Army boots rang down the hallway — three sets — followed by the click of dress shoes. I looked out of the corner of my eye. Sergeant Wilkinson was followed by two commanders I didn’t know in the solid black of full-fledged Company members. The other recruits and I wore gray, waiting to earn the full color. The children furthest down the hall wore blue. Color faded the longer one was with The Company . I wondered if one day I would only see the world in shades of black.

There was a fourth man walking down the hall today, his shining dress shoes were responsible for the clicking sounds on the hard floor. It was him — the one they called the Man in White. A man many knew to fear. A man I admired. The one man that had the ability to cast you into the world. He was the guardian of the door, he sent all the others on their assignments. I wanted to one day stand alongside him. He went by many names, but I knew him only by one: Dr. Nicholson.

The military men walked past me, but Dr. Nicholson lingered. I kept my eyes straight ahead as I’d been taught, boring into the wall just above Billy’s head. Word was out Dr. Nicholson was looking for recruits for a new program. He would hand-pick those qualified for an elite hunter’s division called the Venators.

I wanted to prove myself in order to venture out into the world and discover it. There was nothing out there I couldn’t get within The Academy. I could only be the best once I was out there, actively hunting. That would be the final test; the only one that mattered to become a Venator .

“Look at me, John,” said Dr. Nicholson.

Without thinking, my eyes moved to the man’s face at the sound of my name. It was automatic, following orders drilled into me from birth.

The Man in White always looked younger than I expected. Everyone always spoke of him in reverent tones, making him seem like the wizened god that sat on the mountain top. Instead, a man in his forties looked back, the lines of his face rough and fearsome. He had recruited me when I could barely distinguish faces.