Star runners, p.11
Star Runners, page 11
Another dropout.
In a few minutes, Javin Sharkey pulled up in the golf cart. He hurled her bag onto the cart, and the two of them drove into the dense swamp on their way back to the welcome center.
After the initial round of cheaters were caught, other students disappeared in the middle of the night. Some of his classes dwindled to less than ten students. Six students attended calculus. Two had left on their own last week.
He laced his shoes and walked toward Terminus. He zipped his uniform to the neck as the cold air nipped at his skin. The sun had started its ascent and peeked through the trees, splitting rays across the Grand Lawn. The side door of the Terminus Building shut behind him, the sound echoing through the halls. Austin hurried to the mail room and dropped Mom’s letter into the slot for outgoing student mail.
He had fifteen minutes before his first class.
He walked to the main room. Two students at opposite ends of the room were hunched over books and held their heads with their hands. He settled in at a computer and logged in. As the computer started, he stared at the high, coffered ceiling. Sunlight beamed through the windows as the day began. More students filtered into the hallways as conversations shattered the silence. Soon, Terminus would be alive with activity.
Austin opened his school email address and found Kadyn’s last email.
He smiled as he thought of her brown hair flying as she drove away from their high school with the windows down, the music blaring. He missed her smile. He missed her constant support when things got weird at home or school. He missed her soft voice on the other end of the telephone, announcing she would give him a ride to school.
After he sent a brief note to Kadyn, he turned his attention to Josh. His best friend had been silent on the email front since Austin arrived in Tizona. He typed Josh’s name and started an opening sentence, but hesitated. The last time they spoke, Josh was preparing for some mission trip, and the connection had ended. So much had happened since that time.
Josh,
Hey buddy, hope you’re well. Drop me a line when you get a chance. I hope the trip went well. We have a lot to catch up on.
You take care of yourself.
Austin
He stared at the screen.
Shaking his head, Austin sent the email and glanced at the clock. He still had five minutes until his first class.
He checked his Star Runners account. Despite the fact it had been several weeks since he had logged in using Stetson’s laptop, his account still worked and the load screen flickered onto the screen. He smiled at the image of Trident fighters locked in mortal combat with Tyral Pirates in the midst of a thick asteroid belt. He sat up in his seat and closer to the screen in case others walked behind him. He logged into the elite server and waited.
The numbers and statistics popped up on the screen. His call sign, Rock, remained at the top of the leader board. Some of the stats had changed below his name, but he still boasted the highest kill/death ratio on the server. The top three remained Austin, Scorpion, and Josh. He clicked on Josh’s call sign, Razor.
Josh had not logged in since the summer and had not even recorded a match. He used to love this game and now it seemed he had outgrown it. Austin longed for the days of playing online late into the night and into the early morning hours. He remembered when the next online match was the most important thing to him during those long summer nights.
The electronic bell signifying class change interrupted his thoughts. Students rose from their desks in the main study room and hurried down the halls. Austin grabbed his bag and rushed to calculus, weaving through the mass of students piling into the Terminus Building.
When he reached the classroom at the end of the hall, Austin sat near the window facing the dorm. The sun had finished rising above the tree line into the cloudless sky and now bathed the campus in the golden light of fall.
Professor Heath, clad in a corduroy jacket and dark slacks, strolled into the class. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and stood in front of the class with his hands in his back pockets. He shifted his weight. “Good morning, class.”
The class responded with its usual moan.
“We have something a bit different today,” Heath said. “There will be an announcement from President Pierce in a few minutes that will be broadcast in all of the classrooms.”
He turned around and searched the top drawer of his desk. Heath rummaged through staplers, calculators, and pens before he produced a small remote control the size of a cell phone. He pointed it at the ceiling. After a moment, a section of the ceiling slid away, and a screen dropped down and covered the chalkboard. The screen looked space age in the otherwise classic classroom, which held nothing more modern than Heath’s laptop on the dark oak desk.
The students looked at one another. Connor King, a tall student from a mid-western town Austin could never remember the name of, stared from the seat next to him, his eyebrows raised. Austin shrugged and fiddled with his pen.
“Did you know that was there?” David Keller, the giant student everyone called “Bear,” whispered from the back of the class.
“Yes, I did,” Heath answered.
Austin glanced at Bear, whose face burned a deep red.
“You whisper louder than some people talk,” the professor said. “Everyone please be quiet.”
The screen flickered to life. An image of the Tizona sword on the dark blue background dissolved into view. The sword transitioned to President Pierce sitting at his desk.
“Good morning to all of you,” Pierce said, his voice booming the same way it had when he first addressed the class in the mess hall. “Today is a special day, one that will change your future enrollment here at the Tizona School of Excellence.”
As Pierce paused to sort through papers on his desk, Connor and Austin exchanged glances. What could this be? Pierce had only been seen on campus a few times in the past twelve weeks, and he had not made a school announcement since the first week of class.
“Please pay attention to the following list of names,” Pierce announced.
Pierce read off names, some of them familiar. Austin counted the names. Ansley Thompson. Christine Burrows.
Christine sat at the front of Austin’s row. She inhaled and jolted forward in her seat as if something pushed her. She glanced around the room for answers but found none as the other students threw their hands in the air.
The names continued.
Zac Paul. Philip Gripes.
Austin replayed the names in his head and counted on his fingers. One, two, three, four.
The names continued and, for a moment, Austin wondered if Pierce was going to call roll for the entire school. Eight names. Ten. Twelve. How many more was he going to call?
Eighteen. Twenty-two.
Austin held his breath.
Pierce cleared his throat after he read off the twenty-third name. “If your name has been called,” he said in a softer tone, “I respectfully request you return to the dormitory and begin packing your personal items. You are being transferred to our sister facility in Savannah to continue your studies for the remainder of the semester. When the semester draws to a close, your scholarship will be terminated, and you will be free to transfer your earned credits to another institution. It has been an honor having you at Tizona. On behalf of the faculty and staff, I would like to wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors. If you have any further questions, Chief Sharkey will be waiting for you at the dorms for transport back to the main gate.”
Pierce blinked and continued in his standard, booming voice. “The rest of you may wait in your classrooms until the others have left, at which time you will continue your studies. That is all.”
Austin closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. He had made the cut. His scholarship would continue.
Christine slammed her calculus book shut. “Did you know that was about to happen?” she asked, staring at Professor Heath.
“They do this every semester.”
“What a joke!” Christine hurled her belongings into her bag and stormed out of the room.
Austin glanced at Connor, who offered a crooked smile.
Pierce had called twenty-three names out of the remaining students. Austin wasn’t sure of the exact number, but there couldn’t be much more than twenty left at the school. He’d known it would be competitive, but he wondered if his experience at Tizona would change.
Two other students, Zac Paul and Ansley Thompson, stood and dragged their feet as they moved out of the classroom. Heath nodded at the students as they left the room. Ansley turned and glared at Austin before she disappeared into the hall, her face drooping as she brushed a stray hair away from her eyes. His eyes darted to the floor.
Outside the window, three golf carts pulled in front of the dorm. Sharkey and four security guards hopped out of the carts. As Heath continued class with the remaining six students, the dismissed students were loaded into the golf carts. Sharkey, typing into his tablet, strolled between them like a drill sergeant inspecting his troops.
By the time class ended, the loaded golf carts had taken the twenty-three students away from the dormitory. On the last cart in line, Christine Burrows sat with her shoulders slumped.
Austin sighed. That could have been me. I could have been on my way back.
* * *
Skylar surveyed the mess hall as she counted. She mouthed the numbers, her rose-red lips moving in silence. She raised off her seat and pushed her blonde hair away from her forehead.
“Twenty-two,” she whispered, sitting back down at the table.
Austin looked over his shoulder. “What are you being quiet for? It’s not like there’s anyone to hear you.”
They laughed and continued their lunch. Even though he had been making jokes all morning about the mass expulsion of students, his stomach rolled like a washing machine. His mind raced through the possibilities. Half the class had been expelled, transferred, or had dropped out by the twelve-week mark.
“We might have been on to something when we talked about sophomores,” Skylar said as she tore off a piece of bread.
He blinked. “What? You mean the fact there are no students from other classes?”
“Right. Maybe they all couldn’t cut it and got kicked out.”
“That couldn’t be true, could it?”
She looked down at the table. “I really have no idea. What would your parents say about all this?”
Austin flinched. “Well, my mom is just glad I made it to college.”
She eyed him. “Your dad’s not around? You’ve never told me that.”
“Yeah. He passed away a few years ago. It’s just me and Mom.”
“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” he said, tearing apart a napkin.
Near the end of lunch, Nubern and Sharkey marched in from the back of the mess hall and stopped behind Austin. The remaining students ceased eating and stared at the two faculty members.
“Attention!” Nubern yelled. “I’m only going to say this once: When I say attention, you will stand at attention!”
Austin stared at Skylar, who stood promptly. Austin followed her lead as others around the room did the same.
“Good,” Nubern said with a nod. “Fast learners. That’s part of the reason you are here today. Chief Sharkey and I are here to let you in on what could be the last five weeks of your enrollment at Tizona if you don’t listen up.”
Austin swallowed.
“From this day forward, PT is going to change. You will now be monitored and coached through your exercises. All of you will be issued new uniforms to be worn on campus during class times and an exercise uniform as well. A new policy on hair regulations will be enforced starting tomorrow. Men will have their hair cut neat and women will be required to wear hair in a bun. Sharkey here will be enforcing the details. Questions? Ask him later.”
Nubern paced the front of the room. “Your PT will increase in intensity for the next three weeks,” he continued. “Some of you won’t hack it, and will be transferred off campus to finish the semester. Nothing more will be said of any who do not make it. You should be honored to have made it this far. Your afternoon PT will include a new class of survival training. In the event you are ever lost in the woods or stranded because of a vehicle failure, this additional training could save your life.”
Austin shuddered at the thought of leaving the school after putting in so much time. He glanced at Skylar. She remained fixated on Nubern, her eyes wide with concern.
“You may ask what this is all leading to? The first semester for all Tizona students ends in something we like to call the Gauntlet.” Nubern cocked an eyebrow. “The Gauntlet is a pure test of your mettle, of what you can endure. It will test your physical prowess as well as your mind. It is the ultimate accomplishment of your enrollment at Tizona. Fail this, and you will be sent home.”
The students inhaled. Connor King leaned over to Jimmy Whitmore. “This is stupid,” he whispered.
“Is it now?” Nubern boomed and squared off in front of Connor’s table, an icy resolve in his face. “Is it really stupid to challenge yourself? Is it really?”
Connor lowered his head, staring at the table like a scolded child.
Nubern held his glare at Connor for a moment before addressing the students as a whole. “All of this news does not come without some added benefits. If you will all follow us, we will escort you to the new rec facilities.”
* * *
The students marched along a gravel path in front of the Terminus building, their feet crunching on the gravel in the silent afternoon. Austin rubbed his shoulder against Skylar’s several times as they walked at the front of the line.
Nubern led the students while Sharkey remained at the rear. With all the recruits wearing the same uniform and marching in unison, Austin felt like a prisoner being escorted to clean up a highway. Two guards stood at the front door of the Terminus building as they filed past.
“Are we still having our afternoon classes?” a student asked at the back of the line.
“For the most part, yes,” Sharkey answered. “This will only take a few moments.”
Nubern led the students around Terminus and continued toward the PT facilities. Up ahead, standing at the edge of the tree line was the small, intriguing building. He and Skylar had discussed its purpose weeks ago and had concluded it was for the groundskeepers. He reached out and touched Skylar’s hand with his index finger. She glanced at Austin and followed his gaze.
Standing at the front of the one-story building with his hand on the rusted metal door, Nubern turned around and took in the entire group. “I know some of what I said might sound like it will be difficult, and it certainly will be, but there are perks to this program. I want you all to enter this building with an open mind. Continue down the stairs and line up against the wall to your right when you reach the bottom. Understood?”
Nubern pulled back the metal door. A musty smell like a damp basement drifted out of the building. The student line inched forward. Austin took one look at the bright sunlight before he descended the first steps. Light bulbs hung above the rickety wooden staircase. Water dripped. Austin reached out and slid his fingers across the damp rock covered with moss.
When they reached the bottom, they filed to the right as ordered. Cables thick as baseball bats crossed the cement flooring. Circular shapes as tall as a person and as wide as a compact car loomed in the darkness. The stale air felt cooler than above. The students stood, shoulders touching, with their backs against the wall. Skylar reached out and grabbed Austin’s hand. Embarrassed by the sweat on his palm, Austin loosened his grip. Her hand trembled. He swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears.
“All right, that’s everyone!” Nubern announced, his voice echoing. “I said there would be some perks and this is it!”
Austin frowned. A forgotten, abandoned wine cellar smelling of mold and rot was not a “perk” in his mind.
“Chief Sharkey, hit the lights.”
One by one, lights flickered and popped to life, illuminating the area. The lighting revealed a slender room fifty yards long lined with black pods large enough to hold a person.
“There are twenty-two simulators in this room, one for each of you,” Nubern said. He approached the nearest pod. “This rec room is now mandatory for all students to avoid having a mental breakdown. Recreation is a crucial aspect of your schooling. We have seen it time and time again where students burn out. Some of your classmates have already succumbed to the pressure. This room was created to combat that outcome.”
He pressed a circular button on the nearest pod. With a hissing sound, the pod door slid upward and revealed one black seat. “All of you here have logged time on a certain online computer game called Star Runners, yes?”
The pressure on Austin’s chest eased.
“Well, these pods are linked simulators where you and your classmates may participate in various events and competitions in the game. Think of it as a massive LAN party for your amusement.” Nubern gestured toward Austin. “I believe you are the best here, Austin, or should I say Rock?”
Skylar spun around, her mouth gaping open. “You’re Rock?”
Austin nodded. His feet dragged forward as all eyes in the room turned toward him. The other students nodded as he passed by, some whispering. He stepped in front of the pod and looked at Nubern. “What do I do?”
“Just sit and the computer will run you through the start-up sequence. It should be similar to the game you’ve played online. These games are not online but are just played here on campus. We will keep the statistics so you guys can see who the best in the class will be at the end of the semester. The class will be able to watch on the main monitors out here.” He turned to address the students. “This recreation time will now be mandatory, at least one hour each day. Should you arrive and a game is in progress, watch the monitors and wait for the conclusion of the current match.”
Austin slipped into the simulation pod as Nubern spoke. The comfortable seat boasted a safety harness. He pulled the pod door down. Three large screens, one in the front and the others on either side, surrounded him. Green and red lights blinked as the pod restarted. A stick rose from the floor. He placed his hand on it and allowed his fingers to rest on the trigger. It felt more solid than his joystick at home, even better than the expensive joystick Josh had given him last Christmas. As the lights finished blinking, and his eyes adjusted, the cockpit came into view.
