by Meg Collett
I was hearing a lot about these families. All this blood heritage talk and old prisons made me feel like I was in an mafia movie or something. “Dean mentioned some families came over from the Philippines when the ’swangs migrated here forever ago. Was your family one of them?”
“On my mom’s side. My dad is Russian.” Her tone changed slightly when she talked about her family. I understood. I didn’t like talking about family either.
“Are students allowed to go outside of this building?” I asked to change the subject.
“Yeah, totally! We can go anywhere within the fence. Going outside the fences requires special permission, and normally only the fourth and fifth-years are allowed to go. They want to keep us safe, you know.”
A group of students approached us from the other end of the hall. They were pretty girls dressed in a uniform of workout clothes: tight black shorts and brightly colored tank tops. The girl in the middle had perfectly tanned skin, dark mahogany hair, and a mean smirk on her face. “Well, look who it is. The Cowardly Lyon and a dirty old civvie.”
I drew to a stop, ready to face off. But the group of girls passed by us, laughing at the joke. “Who was that?”
Sunny swallowed, her face looking slightly green. “Jolene and Allison and their posse of mean girls. You should avoid them.”
“Why?” I glared down the hallway, watching as the girls pranced into the gym, swinging their long, shining ponytails against their backs.
“Because they’re mean,” Sunny said like it should be obvious to me. I turned my attention back to her. She really did look scared of them.
“I’m mean too.”
Another scream echoed down the hall. My head snapped back in that direction, thinking maybe Jolene or one of her friends had slipped and broken their face on the floor. But I didn’t see anything.
“Fear sim,” Sunny said. “Students like to practice on the weekends.”
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“The screams?”
I nodded.
“Not really, I guess. You get used to it. The sim is the best tool we have to prepare for the ’swangs. We can fight them in the sim and not actually be in danger of being fed on.”
“Do hunters get fed on a lot?”
“Not the good ones,” Sunny said with a laugh, like it was an inside joke or something. “But in all seriousness, the university spends a lot, and I mean a lot, of time conditioning the third-year students who specialize in hunting. After two semesters of training in the sim, students are ready for a little fear feeding on occasion, you know?”
We continued toward the bank of elevators at the end of hall, which was actually the center of the building. We’d been walking for a while, and I had a pretty good idea of the building’s layout with the east and west wings. Enough of an idea to know that there was something big positioned in the middle of the building that separated the structure into two wings.
“Training in the sim sounds like fun,” I said, meaning it.
Sunny shuddered. “It’s impossible to remember you’re actually not about to die in the simulations. They’re good.”
“Have you been inside it?” I couldn’t imagine her fighting ’swangs with her cute, nerdy glasses and quick smile. Sunny pushed the button for the elevator, and the door immediately dinged open.
“It’s part of the university’s application test. They use the fear simulator to create an encounter with a ’swang. You feel everything the ’swang would make you feel, and then, if it kills you, you feel that too. I, ah, I broke the record.”
“That’s cool!”
“Um.” Sunny pushed her glasses farther up her nose and hit the button for the second floor. “Not really. I broke the record for dying the fastest. I was terrified, like, a total coward. The only reason they let me enroll is because my parents were doctors for the university and they bought the school a brand-new CT scanner. So the university trains me to be a doctor.” She shrugged, flushing with embarrassment. “That’s why Jolene and her friends call me the Cowardly Lyon. My last name is Lyons.”
“That’s bullshit. You should tell them to stop.” There were a lot of things I hated in this world, but bullies were close to the top.
Sunny snorted. “I highly doubt telling Jolene to stop would do anything.”
“Then beat her face in.”
Sunny glanced at me in surprise, her dark brows high above her glasses. A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “I could never do that.”
“I can,” I offered, meaning it. This was the kind of friendship I understood: the violence barter system. It came in handy during my foster kid time.
“Um, that’s okay.” Sunny shot me a grin before turning serious again. “It’s terrible to say, but I’m kind of relieved that I didn’t do well on my entrance test. I came here thinking I would be a hunter, but I was naive. My grandmother always told me that the true hunters are called to kill aswangs, like, in their hearts and stuff, you know? But that’s why everyone is talking about you. Most of the younger students have never even seen a ’swang, much less killed one. You’re the real deal. My grandmother would say you were called.”
I didn’t like how her words made my heart flutter, so I joked, “Yeah or kidnapped. So you haven’t seen a ’swang either?”
“Thankfully, not in real life. I’d probably curl up in the fetal position right there on the spot.”
I decided not to voice my surprise. But how could these students fight an enemy they’d never seen before? Killing the ’swang in Kodiak hadn’t been all that hard, but clearly I had a distinct advantage. I had no clue what it would be like for someone like Sunny or Luke.
The elevator arrived on the second floor, and Sunny marched me along more halls, groups of gaping students scattered throughout. The second floor contained the cafeteria, more classrooms, and some crowded rec rooms where students hung out and watched movies during their free periods or in the evenings.
“Will I have to do the fear sim?” I asked, returning to our previous conversation.
Sunny laughed, the sound dancing down the hall. “I really doubt it. I mean, you’ve, like, already killed one. So putting you in the sim would be a little overkill, you know? But Dean wants me to do a few tests on you later.”
“Tests?” I was already nervous enough about the evaluation I would have in a couple of weeks. The thought of more tests on top of that one made me sick.
“Blood and marrow tests. Don’t worry. I’ve done lots before, so you’ll be safe with me. My parents sent me to loads of medical summer camps during high school. Anyway, after that you’ll meet up with Luke and do a few physical tests.”
“What is Luke’s deal anyway?” I asked cautiously. I’d learned my lesson about showing interest in something or someone during my foster care years, when toys or food had been ripped out of my hands the moment my eyes lit up with joy. Pretending not to care was always the best policy.
“I don’t really know much about him,” Sunny confessed. “But he’s the best hunter the university has. He’s killed, like, five hundred ’swangs or something. It’s almost triple what any other hunter has killed at his age. He’s totally lethal and obviously deliciously good-looking. That’s all I really know about him. The rest are rumors.”
“Rumors?”
“I don’t really like to gossip . . .”
“Oh, come on,” I huffed, my heart beating with excitement.
Sunny glanced around like she was about to give me nuclear launch codes. She lowered her voice and whispered, “They say he drinks a ’swang’s blood after he kills it.”
“Why?” I asked, breathless. Sunny seemed surprised at my lack of repulsion, but frankly, after meeting Luke, I found it kind of . . . hot. Call me crazy.
“A ’swang’s blood has certain powers. My mom always said it can make you fearless.” At this, Sunny looked at me closely.
“I didn’t drink blood,” I said quickly. “Are there any other rumors?”
“Well . .
. kind of. But I really doubt this one is true. Jolene and Allison, who are, like, super-duper skanky,” Sunny said with a cute, totally not-vicious snarl, “say he’s celibate.”
I snorted. “No wonder he’s so grumpy. Why is he celibate?”
“Uh.” Sunny blushed. She suddenly busied herself brushing off lint from her pants. “They say he kind of likes it too rough or something,” she mumbled.
I choked. “What?”
A blush spread from Sunny’s cheeks to the tips of her ears. She lowered her voice even more. “You know how ’swang saliva affects hunters when they’re bit?” I nodded quickly, stomach fluttering. “Well, rumor is that the saliva makes Luke, like, oh God, I can’t say it.”
“Say it!”
“They say it makes him super sexually aggressive!” Sunny said the words fast, like if she spilled them out quick enough no one would hear. I felt my eyes bugging out of my head.
“It can do that?”
“Yeah. Saliva reacts differently for everyone. Rumor has it that there was a young pretty hunter here once who spent a lot of time with Luke, but she left because Luke was so rough with her after a hunt that he hurt her real bad. I mean it was, like, consensual, but, well, you know what I mean.”
“Holy shit,” I said, totally floored. But totally, completely intrigued. Luke Aultstriver just got a hell of a lot more interesting.
“But it’s not uncommon for hunters to abstain, especially if they follow the old ways of the earliest hunters,” Sunny hurried to add. “They say it’s a distraction. But with Luke, it’s a little different.”
More like a lot different. Luke was the first guy in years who actually caught my attention. I’m not a nun by any means, but after the life I’ve lived, it takes a lot to interest me.
“Is Hatter celibate?” I smirked at Sunny, who was blushing too furiously to manage a response. I elbowed her softly in the ribs, which made her burst out into hysterical giggles. The sound made me smile.
Made me feel at home.
She gave me a tour of the first floor next, which held even more classrooms, although these looked dusty and mostly out of use, and administration offices. By the bank of elevators, there was a gleaming entry with busts of past university presidents and old paintings lining the walls. The front doors into the university were no joke. I wondered how we would get them open, because they were thick iron with numerous locks and bolts. There was nothing pretty about these doors, just pure mean, clean “stay the hell out.”
Sunny swiped her card, and the iron doors easily swooshed open. Squinting and shielding my eyes against the sun, I followed her out to a bright courtyard, where little round tables complete with red-and-white-checkered umbrellas filled the space and provided a cozy gathering place. Students clustered about with their laptops and textbooks, laughing and joking with each other. Music played from different sources, mingling together to make an entirely new sound that felt alive and vivid in my heart. The day was warm for fall on Kodiak Island, and the students soaked up the sun in their different groups. The courtyard buzzed with youth and promise. A tremble of excitement swept down my spine; this was my place now.
Remembering the building behind me, I glanced back. But just a glance wouldn’t do. I slowly turned around, my mouth hanging slightly open, my eyes straining to take it all in.
From the inside, I struggled to remember the place had originally been a prison, a fortress. But now I understood. The building—comprised of two long, three-story wings and a hulking dome structure in the middle—resembled a snarling beast with jagged limbs of turrets that swept up toward the brutal arch of the dome, a thick fur of snarling vines and moss grown from the gutters’ dripping moisture, and rows upon rows of windows that looked like gleaming fangs. The dome’s roof glinted in the sun, a pretty blue metal—the first and only pretty thing about the building. Blocks of giant stone made up the structure, giving it a speckled quality from the hodge-podge of colors. Some stones had faded gray with age, while others gleamed bright red with newness. It could have been ugly, probably should have been, but to me, it was wicked. Completely, utterly, wicked.
This was Fear University.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” Sunny said quietly, reverently, from beside me.
“What’s in that dome thing?”
“Uh.” She cleared her throat. “The dorms.”
“Are we going there?”
“Not yet.”
I didn’t let Sunny see my frown, but I kept looking back, watching as the domed structure rose into the day’s sunlight behind me.
“Want to see something cool?” Sunny asked, growing excited, and clearly trying to distract me.
I looked where she pointed. Beyond the edge of the humming courtyard stood the university’s front entrance. Like the school, the main gate showed its teeth with pride. It must have weighed a ton with so much tight twisting and lethal-looking metal. In the middle of the gate was Fear University’s crest, a filigreed oval depicting snow-capped mountains beneath a sky full of stars. Along either side of the entrance, the main fence spread out farther than my eye could see. Off to the side, where Sunny pointed, a very tall ladder led up to a small hut-like structure atop the fence’s ledge.
“What’s that?” I asked, my eyes scanning up nearly thirty-feet to the top of the fence.
“A rook’s nest. The guards use them for patrols. Each corner and middle point of the perimeter fence have huge watch towers, but they put up these rook nests in between, so guards can drink some water or something during their perimeter walks.”
I raised my brows. Sunny hurried over to the ladder, but I followed at a more sedate pace as I studied the fence. It was thick, likely concrete, with a large landing along the top for patrolling guards. The railing consisted of protruding iron bars, as if they were there to keep the dogs from climbing up onto the landing. I wondered if the bars were overkill. A dog couldn’t climb thirty feet into the air. Or maybe the professors and guards were worried about something else reaching the top of the fence.
Sunny had already climbed halfway up the ladder by the time I put my foot on the first rung. The fence stood tall, and when we reached the top, Sunny shook out her legs and groaned from the exertion. My breathing came fast as I crossed the rook’s nest, which felt like a well-supplied tree house, and looked out beyond the fence.
The sight stole my breath.
“Tick Tock Bay,” Sunny said quietly, reverently.
My eyes swept down the scraggy, rocky incline toward the bay, where the ocean, a deep sapphire blue, swept in, beating white spray against rock pillars and crashing against a stony-gray shore far below the rook’s nest. Naked trees, stripped bare, tilted in the briny sea air. My hair wiped around my face, catching in my eyelashes. Somehow, the desolate place was peaceful, comforting even. Energy seemed to infiltrate the wind, making it sound like whispers as it blew through the trees. The cliffs surrounding the bay felt like arms holding the prison close. The tightness in my chest released, and for the first time since I’d arrived, I breathed.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, still looking out across the water. The fence was built atop the shore’s stone. A road wound its way along the bottom of the wall and toward a dock that led out to the bay, likely for when boats came in with supplies.
“Beautiful?” At Sunny’s shocked tone, I turned to face her. “It’s terrifying!”
“Why?”
“The Tick Tock Massacre! The reason this bay is nicknamed after the ticking of a clock.” I remembered how the ’swang had ticked when it attacked me, and I began to understand Sunny’s wide-eyed reverence. “Nearly seventy years ago, on Halloween, the students and professors went out to the bay for a party. It wasn’t dark yet, but it was twilight, and darkness comes fast up here.” Her voice trembled with nervous excitement as she fell into the rhythm of the story, one she’d clearly memorized long ago. “The professors carefully watched the time, and when nightfall came, they called the students and told them to go back
to the school. But the students were having a good time, and, for a night, they’d forgotten the war, their enemy, the night’s monsters. When the students finally listened to the professors, the sun’s light had nearly sank into the bay’s churning water.
“They say the night suddenly turned very still, very quiet-like. And only when the students heard the beating of their hearts did a great noise build. From the edges of the trees and the cliffs surrounding the bay, came the tick-tocking of a clock. The sound surrounded them and the students remembered. Remembered the war, their enemy, the night’s monsters.
“The tick-tocking echoed so loudly the students all fell to their knees and screamed, covering their ears. The professors had their weapons drawn, but no one could hear each other to coordinate a defense. Not that a defense mattered anyway, because by the time the ticking had faded enough to hear each other, the professors and few hunters present knew they were doomed. There was nothing they could do but fight. It was a bloodbath; there were too many ’swangs. Nearly everyone died.”
Gooseflesh prickled along my skin, and the breeze picked up, threading through my hair, like an answer to Sunny’s story.
“They say that the bay turned red with blood.” Sunny and I both jumped at the sound of the voice coming from behind us. We whirled around and found Hatter had crossed to the platform behind us, an assault rifle casually laid across his chest, his finger mere inches from the trigger. His wide grin made his scars twitch and pull along his face. “And when the ocean carried the bloodied waves back out to sea, the fishing ships’ captains thought a sea monster had been slaughtered and they cheered and drank lots of beer. Lucky bastards.”
“A sea monster? Really?” I asked, trying not to smile.
“The other version is that the captains thought the sea had gotten her period. Which would you prefer?”
Sunny giggled. “Definitely sea monsters.”
Hatter’s grin softened when he looked at her. I doubt she even noticed, too caught up in her own admiring. “I agree. Much less gruesome.”
