Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense

by Kim Richardson

  “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!”

  Chapter 11

  The Krakenite

  Agent 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 superhe
ro. 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.