First Semester

by Jace Mitchell

  Dean Kristin Pritcham wasn’t sure if she’d made a brilliant career move or a massive mistake. This deep into the decision, though, there wasn’t much she could do about it.

  A year ago, the FBI had plucked her from complete obscurity. She’d been a professor at Oviedo College in Florida, with a focus on teaching Greek and Roman mythology. Now she was the dean of her own university.

  If you can call it that, she thought. Twelve students, four professors, and a former Russian secret ops agent as a weapons and combat expert, a house mom, and a mansion. Maybe you’re just running a daycare center.

  Only, the FBI didn’t show up at daycares, and they were supposed to be entering Kristin’s office any moment now. She glanced at the clock on the wall in front of her, which said two minutes until five in the morning.

  They’d requested the meeting late last night. That was something else Kristin was quickly coming to understand—the FBI didn’t keep normal business hours.

  Kristin’s stomach grew cold. It happened every time she had to meet with these guys. She’d taken the job because she knew there wasn’t a whole lot of room to rise where she’d been before. People weren’t exactly banging her door down with job offers for professors of Greek and Roman mythology.

  She hadn’t believed the offer when she’d gotten it. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “No, ma’am,” Lance had said, looking decidedly awkward. “No one’s shitting you.”

  “Why me?” she’d asked. “I’m nobody. Even in my own field, I’m nobody.”

  Lance had kept staring right at her and simply said, “Told you,” to his partner.

  Remington had taken over the conversation. “Quite simply put, Dr. Pritcham. You can see them.”

  “Who?” Kristin had asked, although she’d known exactly what they were talking about. Kristin hadn’t told anyone what she’d seen, but that apparently didn’t matter. Because she’d done something even dumber. She’d anonymously uploaded the video online.

  “The Mythers,” Remington had said with an even look. “We know it was you who uploaded the video. We want a mind like yours to run the east coast school. One that isn’t set in its ways. If you can see Mythers, then your mind is flexible. It’s agile. It’s going to be able to handle what we throw at it.”

  The knock on the door was firm, pulling Kristin from thoughts of the past.

  “Come in,” she called loudly.

  The door opened, and Remington and Lance entered.

  Kristin figured they had first names, but she didn’t know what they were, even after a year.

  Lance nodded to Kristin as he closed the door behind him. “Hello, Dean Pritcham.”

  “Hi, gentleman.” Kristin stood up and walked around her desk to offer her hand to each agent in turn. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Remington gestured toward the chairs. “It’s okay if we sit down?”

  “Of course,” Kristin said with a welcoming smile. She sat down in her own chair. “How are you today?”

  “It’s been a busy morning,” Remington said. “We got off the plane about an hour ago, and we’re already working on recruiting the next class. It’ll be at least twice as big as what you currently have.”

  Kristin smiled. “That’s good. Twelve students don’t constitute what I’d call a university in any real sense of the word.”

  Remington nodded. “We understand your concerns, but right now, we can’t really focus on them. I’m assuming you’ve seen the news this morning?”

  Of course, she had. The video had gone viral. A group of people on safari in Africa had been recording video of a herd of zebras as they drove across the plains. A unicorn had trotted out from the middle of the herd. White as a dove, with a horn in the middle of its forehead.

  “Yeah, I saw it,” Kristin said. “How did the adults see it, though? How did they know what they were looking at?”

  Lance spoke now. “Best we can ascertain, they had a teenager with them who saw it. The parents didn’t see anything until the teenager uploaded it.”

  Kristin understood the rules of these creatures. At least, she thought she understood them as well anyone could. The “rules” were still being invented, however, and everyone was constantly learning.

  It was much less common for adults to see the creatures, but once a Myther had been recorded, everyone could see it on the image without a problem. Thus, the video’s virality.

  “So, Dean Pritcham, we understand your concerns about class size,” Remington continued. “But please trust us. You’re not running an elementary school here. The problem is growing more and more severe by the day. That’s actually why we came.”

  Kristin leaned back in her chair as she did any time she was about to start thinking hard. “I’m listening.”

  “What’s the curriculum for this semester?” Remington asked.

  Kristin raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You don’t have a copy in that briefcase by your chair?”

  Remington smiled back. “Sure, I do. Just want to hear you explain it to me.”

  Kristin narrowed her eyes at the agent. He’s making sure you’re at least as on your game as he is. Fine.

  She rattled off the courses on her fingers. “The first semester is based on what is happening, as well as beginning physical training. They cover the Veil and invasion theory, mythology and structure, mythology in the present day, hand-to-hand combat, and basic weapons levels one and two. That’s five classes. Two of them are physically focused, but all will require a tremendous amount of practice. It’s a full load.”

  “We’re going to need to alter it,” Lance told her quietly.

  Kristin’s mouth opened slightly. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just folded her hands over her chest and letting the words sink in.

  When she had herself under control, she fixed the agents with a hard look. “You know the amount of work it took for us to get this up and running, right? The number of approvals that had to be sought? You expect me to just change it?”

  “Well, Dean Pritcham, that’s what we’re hoping,” Remington responded. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “We’re constantly receiving more information about what’s happening here. The FBI hasn’t placed all its hope on this university. We have assets in other areas, and we’re using them to better understand the nature of what we’re facing. Right now, we’re getting an idea of what’s coming next, and it’s not going to be a unicorn or a rainbow snake. Those things are just accidents, more or less. Our assets are telling us that something much more dangerous is on the way, and that it’s coming soon. We need to get these kids prepared to face whatever it is.”

  Kristin brought her index fingers to her temples and started to rub her head. She closed her eyes. “You two are going to be the death of me, I think. What’s coming? How much time do we have?”

  Remington leaned back in his chair and smiled. “You know something, Dean Pritcham? Lance and I find ourselves to be pretty serious about life. I like talking to you, though. You may take it even more seriously than we do, and that makes me feel good. Makes me smile. Thank you for that.”

  Kristin didn’t open her eyes. “I’m very glad I can be of service. Now, how much time do we have?”

  “That’s the good news,” Lance said. “We’re not exactly sure.”

  Kristin groaned at the smile in his voice.

  Chapter Nine

  Claire was the first person in class. She’d been coming in early for the past few weeks, wanting to ensure she didn’t fall behind. Claire knew already that she wasn’t the smartest person in the class. She wasn’t even the smartest person in her unit. Marissa held that spot.

  Her binder was out in front of her, but she was looking at Dr. Byron.

  He sat at his table, looking down at a large book and reading intensely.

  That wasn’t there yesterday. Claire had seen papers, but no ancient-looking book.

  Claire wasn’t going to interrupt him and ask him abou
t it. She didn’t want to chance pissing him off again. Instead, she turned her attention to her own binder and kept studying.

  After a few minutes of concentration, the sound of students entering the room broke her focus.

  Claire turned around and watched her classmates make their way down the steps. She’d come to know them better as the semester progressed, though the Units were sort of sticking together.

  Marissa came down the left side of the room and sat next to Claire. “Seen Jack?” she asked as she put her bag down and pulled the binder from it.

  “Nope. Don’t care to either,” Claire answered.

  “You’d miss me.” The voice was right by Claire’s face, a soft whisper. She jerked around, ready to slap whoever had gotten that close to her, but Jack was already backing up and grinning wildly. “Oh, Ms. Hinterland, you have to be quicker than that.”

  He moved down the row and squeezed past Claire and Marissa. “Excuse me, ladies. Excuse me. Just tryin’ to get to my seat here.”

  He was grinning the entire time, and Claire did her absolute best to hide her own smile. He was an asshole, definitely, but there was something kind and humorous about him, too.

  Jack sat down, but he didn’t pull anything out. Not so much as a pen. “You two ready to learn more? Personally, I want to know if these creatures come over fully clothed, or if it’s like The Terminator and they arrive buck naked. If they’re naked, that leads me to wonder if Aphrodite will be coming and where I might be able to get a peek.”

  Marissa shook her head and Claire put her hand to her mouth, hiding the grin that had burst onto her face.

  “Okay, my pupils,” Dr. Byron said, standing up from the desk. He didn’t close the book but left it open. He walked around the desk to the main area of the floor. “You can put your Veil binders away. We won’t be needing those.”

  Claire’s eyes narrowed, but she did what the professor asked.

  “There’s been a pretty drastic change of curriculum, and I only received word of it a few hours ago. Unfortunately for you, I’m not the best person in the world to teach what they’re asking me to, but we must deal with the situations we face, yes?”

  Claire’s eyes darted to the open book behind the professor. That’s what it was, she thought. He was studying just like us. He’s a scientist, an expert on cosmology, or physics, or something. But what they want him to teach us doesn’t have anything to do with that.

  Professor Byron began to pace just as he had the day before. He looked down at his feet as he walked with his hands clasped behind his back. “You see, the curriculum was laid out in a very specific manner. First, we wanted you to understand what was actually happening. Next semester, you would begin to focus on different types of mythology, giving you a broad overview of what might be faced. As the year progressed, you were to continue to broaden your understanding of specific mythologies based on your chosen specialization.”

  He reached the end of the room, turned, and started pacing again, never once looking up.

  “However, the powers that be have decided that isn’t what will happen this semester. What that looks like for your overall education, I cannot say. Most likely, based on the aptitude already shown in here, this university will be a dismal failure.” He stopped and faced the class. “Yet, the decision is above my pay grade. So, for this semester, in here, you all will learn no more about the Veil.”

  “We got that, Byron,” Jack shouted. “You gonna give us a clue as to what’s goin’ on, or what?”

  Professor Byron smiled, a wry thing that said he knew more than Jack did, but one day, Jack might discover it all.

  Perhaps Byron even hoped he would.

  Byron met the eyes of the class with concern. “By the time this class is over, you all are going to be experts on Eastern European Mythology. Specifically, vampires.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “Tell me they don’t sparkle.”

  Chapter Ten

  Agent Remington liked almost everything about Boston. He liked the historical buildings, the Catholic cathedrals, the small streets. Hell, he even liked the sound of the traffic.

  He only had one issue with the city—its frigid air. The cold was so bitter he could barely stand to breathe it.

  Remington had a large overcoat wrapped around him and gloves on. He hadn’t bothered putting on a hat or earmuffs.

  Perhaps he should have because at three in the morning, there was no warmth to be had on Boston’s streets.

  Lance stood next to him, silent.

  Both men knew why they’d been called out this late at night, although neither wanted to admit it to the other. The car ride down here had been silent.

  More than anyone else involved in this, Remington and Lance knew what the world was facing. There were people with more authority, of course. A lot more authority, Remington knew. But they weren’t in the thick of it day in and day out.

  Remington and Lance were in charge of recruitment and managing the assets who brought them information about the invasion, as well as assessing the destruction being caused.

  Right now, they were in a Boston back alley looking at some of that destruction.

  Each end of the alley had been taped off since the local police had been notified about the body a few hours earlier.

  Every police officer in Boston was under a strict directive to alert their superiors to anything that didn’t make sense to them. Those superiors? Well, they sent it up the chain until it got to Remington and Lance’s attention.

  “We reported it soon as we heard.” The Boston cop’s New England accent was heavy on the night air as the three moved down the alley toward a large dumpster. “Hold on to your cookies, agents. Wicked bad scene.”

  He flashed them a pale smile. “Me and my partner, we came out here, got one look at this thing, and knew we had to turn it in. Boss told us, we see something like this, don’t turn it in, and that’s our badge. I got fifteen years in, and I ain’t losing my pension over not reporting something, ya know?”

  The cop was talking up a storm, and Remington didn’t want to hear it.

  Lance didn’t even look at the man but kept his eyes on the dumpster ahead.

  “You sure he didn’t freeze to death?” Remington asked as they reached the large green trash bin.

  The cop’s eyes widened. “Am I sure? Sure, I’m sure. I’ve been working this city for fifteen years. You know how many bums I done seen freeze to death? Too many to count, that’s how many.” He knocked on the dumpster with his fist. It echoed in the close alley quarters. “The body’s inside there. You need me for anything else? If not, I’m gonna go sit in the car with my partner.”

  Partner sounded like “pahtnah.”

  “No, we don’t,” Lance said.

  Both agents stood about three feet from the dumpster, not yet looking in.

  “Okay, then, gents. Let me know if ya need anything.” The cop turned and left the agents by themselves.

  Remington turned to Lance. “If I ever get that annoying, I want you to shoot me, okay?”

  “If you ever get that annoying, I expect you to shoot yourself,” Lance responded.

  Remington chuckled. “Let’s get a look.” He pulled out a flashlight from the inside of his overcoat and pressed the button.

  A stream of white light spilled out from the head, illuminating the otherwise dark alley. Both agents walked forward and peered over the lip of the dumpster as Remington shone the light inside it.

  Remington peered at the dead body lying on top of the garbage bags. “What’s with the pale skin? We got a corpsicle on our hands, you reckon?”

  “He didn’t freeze to death,” Lance concluded with a glance. “Eyes are wide open. Would have closed if he’d frozen to death. You don’t think...”

  Rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet. Remington put on a pair of gloves and used his pen to lift the victim’s chin.

  “There.” Lance pointed at the left side of the victim’s neck.

  Remington saw them
too.

  Two tiny incisions.

  “The asset wasn’t wrong.” Lance took a step back from the dumpster and looked back down the alley. “They’re calling over vampires.”

  Remington stared for another few seconds then pulled himself away, too. “You know anything about vampires?”

  “Seems to run the gamut.” Lance was looking toward the police lights at the end of the alley. He pulled his jacket tighter around him. “You’ve got Dracula. Those like vegetarian vampires from Twilight, or whatever. They didn’t eat people, right?”

  Remington chuckled as he walked up next to his partner. “Beats me. Didn’t read it.”

  Lance smirked. “I always knew I was the more educated of us.”

  Remington raised an eyebrow. “You read that shit?”

  Lance shrugged. “I’m married. She wanted me to read them, so I did. I think it increased my getting laid percentage by about fifty percent over two months, so worth it.”

  Remington chuckled again for a moment before his amusement died away. He sighed, his breath coming out as white fog. This is going to be a long night. “The problem is, people have believed in vampires for a long, long time. That means there’s got to be a lot of them behind the Veil. If they’re coming here, then this is only the first of many bodies.”

  “The new theory,” Lance asked. “What do you think about it?”

  Remington raised his left hand as if tossing something in the air. “There’s always a new theory with this shit. Which one?”