The House of Grey- Volume 2

by Collin Earl

  “Grey, I can’t believe you’re eating that crap.” Artorius stared enviously at Monson’s food. “You’ll throw up if you get hit with all that stuff in your system.”

  Monson wiped sauce from his chin. “I’m just preparing for the eventuality. I don’t want to die tonight knowing I could have had wings today.”

  Artorius started to answer but Casey stopped him. “Let it go, Arthur, the man has a point.”

  Casey paused between bites of his bagel and shots of wheatgrass. “Hey, Grey, give me a wing.”

  “Sorry Case, no can do.”

  “Come on man, I—”

  “You know you shouldn’t be doing that crap before a big game,” Monson scolded.

  Indigo Harrison, wearing her new freshman cheerleader captain uniform, trotted up to their table with a small contingency of freshman girls behind her. They watched Monson with curious eyes as they whispered behind cupped hands. Monson did his best to ignore them. Their expressions weren’t ones of particular concern for him, but of simple prurient interest in his connection to Cyann. The inquiring glances were not out of the ordinary these days, and were actually an improvement over people’s initial reaction to him. Not that Monson had blamed them for shying away; with a face like his, it was a given.

  “You look really good, Indigo,” blubbered Artorius. “The uniform looks amazing.”

  Indigo winked at Artorius, shifting the attention of the group away from Monson, which was fortunate because they didn’t see who was waving at him from across the lunchroom. Taris Green stood with a throng of her own friends, possibly the varsity cheerleading squad from the looks of it. She was too far away to speak to, but Monson could guess what the redhead was thinking, especially given that the devilish grin of hers.

  FROM: My Princess

  well hero? what do u think?

  4:00 pm

  Monson studied Taris. To say she looked amazing was an understatement. The cheerleading squad must have gotten new uniforms, as the formfitting, midriff-baring excuse for clothing was a complete surprise to Monson. Not a bad surprise, though; not a bad surprise at all.

  To: My Princess

  u know u look amazing…

  dont make me say it.

  4:01 pm

  FROM: My Princess

  dont tease me…i know

  u say that to all the girls! ;)

  4:01 pm

  To: My Princess

  oh yeah because I have so

  many girls busting

  down my door…

  u know they all want

  a piece of the scarred leper…

  i should book my

  reality tv show now

  and avoid the rush

  4:02 pm

  Monson shook his head. He still didn’t understand why this girl was talking to him. Was it some sort of charity case—“Adopt a scholar kid”? For only fifteen cents a day, take care of a basket case like Monson Grey.

  Monson stopped himself; the subject just made his head hurt.

  From: My Princess

  says the boy who

  has most of the

  freshman hotties standing

  around him…and all while

  ur talking to me…

  ur such a player!

  4:03 pm

  Monson contemplated this. What was a “player” exactly? He didn’t have time to form a conclusion or even start on one before—

  From: My Princess

  all joking aside…

  come and see me before

  the game…i’ve got

  a present for you.

  4:04 pm

  Taris closed her phone, winked at Monson a second time and exited the cafeteria without a backwards glance. Monson sighed. He did not like the sound of that.

  *****

  “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the Pasco Bulldogs starting line! Let’s give it up for the visiting team!”

  The announcer’s voice sounded far away. Apparently long concrete passages turn yards into miles; at least, that’s what it felt like.

  Monson stood with Artorius and about forty other adrenaline-heavy, testosterone-infused high school boys in the home team’s tunnel/hallway below the football field. There was much in the way of booty slapping and helmet cracking as the Coren University Legionnaires fired themselves up for another display of competitive masculinity. The show of machismo was almost too much for Monson.

  “So we just stand here, right?” Monson bumped Artorius to make sure that he was listening.

  Artorius was too busy butt smacking and head smashing to listen.

  “Arthur!”

  Artorius turned to him. “Grey, you’re killing me! Don’t call me Arthur!”

  He glanced around at his teammates. “You’ll ruin my rep.”

  Monson cocked the eyebrow. “What, you don’t want to be seen as an idiot?”

  “Do you even have to ask?”

  “Because it’s too late, dude.”

  Artorius glared.

  “OK, Artorius, what do we do now?’

  “What do you mean, what do we do now? We wait until the announcement calls us out, then we rush out like fat women at a free cookie festival. ”

  Monson chuckled slightly. “Nice.”

  “I thought you might like that one. That’s an Artorius Paine original.”

  Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together and get on your feet for your team, the home team, led by Captain and Quarterback Damion “The Diamond” Peterson! Give it up for your… Coren University Legionnaires!

  The team ran forward at the call, which admittedly felt like the most natural thing to do. Monson brought up the rear, not wanting to get into the way and hoping to blend into the background. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, but it had little to do with the cheering crowds. The more he hung back the more he was inclined to sprint—towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

  Monson focused on the opening…the tunnel opening pulled him, enticing him to come ever closer. Sensations, infused and intensified, rained down on him as he inched towards the tunnel opening. He felt his chest burn, his fingers ache, and an all-encompassing veil of darkness creep from behind and paw at him. Stay away from the light! he heard, STAY AWAY FROM THE LIGHT!!

  Monson ran faster and faster, moving swiftly with the other combatants…no, that wasn’t right…they weren’t combatants. They were players—players that were going to play…going to play…what? He didn’t know.

  The light called to Monson, its plea growing louder and more demanding, and offering much in the way of salvation. The answer would be found in the light. The players in front of Monson disappeared into the light just as Monson was about to reach its threshold. It was as if they had dissolved into its radiance.

  Monson smiled as he too touched the light.

  He broke the plane of light and the darkness nipping at his heels receded. Monson’s mind cleared. All overt sensation vanished and he was left…left to himself. It was only then that he realized what he was doing and where he was going. He stepped into the light and onto… a plateau?

  Monson scanned the horizon, seeing only a cracked and broken earth. It seemed to be screaming out of the depths of a looming mountain’s shadow. Monson’s skin prickled. He heard the cry of the wind and felt the sulky tears of the heavens as the penetrating stench of death swept in, carried upon the wind. This was a dark and evil place. Monson needed to find the others; find the others and get out before…before something bad happened. But they were nowhere to be seen. No one was.

  He tried to scream, but nothing came out. He tried to move, but his legs felt cemented to the ground. It was growing harder to breathe. He felt so weak… He watched his hand slowly raise and sweep across his chest. It was covered in blood….

  Lightning crackled somewhere off in the distance as the last of Monson’s strength drained from him and he collapsed. Darkness set at the borders of his vision and slowly consumed the light. He laid his head back and blinked
once. His breath caught in his chest. He blinked twice. The air wouldn’t stay in his lungs. He blinked three times—.

  Bright lights, and the screams of thousands of fans, parents, and media punctured the now-hazy silhouette of a far-off, and utterly creepy location. It was then that he noticed her.

  “Where are we?

  Taris’ brow furrowed in concern. “At the Battlegrounds. You’re about to make your debut on the field—are you OK?”

  Monson slowly blinked and the remnants of his vision of a deadly wasteland finally faded from view.

  “Yes…yes, I am. I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.” Monson fidgeted. That was true, he was nervous, so it was only a lie by omission. And it was either lie or try to explain what had just happened.

  Taris reached up and cupped his ear; she was so close he could feel her breath. “Here’s your present, Hero. Pasco’s strong safety has a sprained left ankle. If you run right at him and cut to your right, you should get a step on him. Get the ball and go for the touchdown.”

  Reality slapped Monson in the face—cleanly, right across the jaw. He was about to play football. Suddenly he wished he were back in the wasteland.

  Bright lights flashed around them, engulfing Monson and Taris in a sea of LEDs. The effect was unsettling.

  Taris winked at him, pointing two fingers at her eyes and then back at him. They stared at each other and Monson felt himself falling into her emerald green eyes. He had never noticed their flecks of gold before.

  “This is you,” Taris said quietly. “Go out and do good. The whole world is watching. Show them that you’re not just a pretty face.”

  She turned and walked away, posing periodically as the paparazzi submerged her in so many flashes that Monson lost sight of her.

  He shook his head. He could still feel the warmth from where she touched him on his ear.

  “You ready for this?” Damion walked up to Monson, an arm pulled across his body in a sort of shoulder stretch.

  Monson grinned. “I’ve got the easy part. You’re the one that’s gonna have to win the game.”

  Damion chuckled. “You say that now. Wait until I have to throw you the ball.”

  Monson scowled. “You understand how stupid this whole exercise is, right?”

  Damion shrugged. “It is what it is. Rich people do stupid stuff all the time. Endure, and perhaps one day you’ll be one of those rich people and then you can make the rules.”

  Damion paused as his smile widened. “And then you can be the one doing the stupid stuff. It has a strange sort of symmetry to it, doesn’t it?”

  “The man’s logic is flawless. I don’t suppose that I can argue with that.”

  Damion slapped Monson on the back. “Relax. Tell you what, if you live through the night, then I’ll share something really cool with you. How does that sound?”

  “Ominous. And a bit on the scary side.”

  “You worry too much, Monson. Now come on. Let’s go win a football game.”

  Thanks for reading Volume 2 of The House of Grey!

  Start reading Volume 3 and join Monson and the crew for the conclusion of the first arc!

  As always, tell your friends, your teachers, your family members, and your hair stylist—this is one you won’t want to miss.

  Oh, and don’t miss Collin Earl and Chris Snelgrove’s other titles:

  HARMONICS: Rise of the Magician

  Samantha Montgomery of Academy City 676 always dreamed of life outside of school. Sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for.

  A rogue weapons manufacturer, a ruthless killer, and a schoolgirl converge as a weapon so advanced it defies the laws of physics is a mere breath away from being unleashed on the world. Now it’s up to Sam and some unexpected allies to keep it out of the wrong hands or risk losing everything—and everyone—they hold dear.

  A defense contractor on the rampage, an assassin out for blood, and Sam caught in the middle.

  When the reality you know ceases to be, can you live with the reality yet to come?

  Start reading HARMONICS: Rise of the Magician for Free

  HARMONICS: Revelations

  It’s been weeks since the attack on her school, but Samantha Montgomery’s nightmares force her to relive those events almost every night.

  Struggling to adjust to her new home in the underground facility deep within the Rocky Mountains, Sam wonders just how dark things can get before her will gives out. Faced with the realization that her former best friend is a man foreign to her, that she will never see her home again, and that her life is inexplicably caught up in a three-way war between a group of domestic terrorists, the world’s largest weapons manufacturer, and the elite of a foreign superpower, Sam stands alone to answer the questions that plague her.

  Why her? When will she see her friends, her family…Adam again? What mysterious power does the silver box hold to make so many people kill for it?

  Little does Sam know that there are explanations to all her questions just beyond her grasp—but only if she has the courage to look.

  Join Sam on her discovery as the future reveals itself in Harmonics: Revelations.

  Grab HARMONICS: Revelations

  For upcoming book releases and updates

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