Cult of the Devoted (Academy of the Apocalypse Book 2) by K. A. Riley

Author:K. A. Riley [Riley, K. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Travel Duck Press
Published: 2021-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

PART 2

BACK TO SCHOOL

23

Raked

It feels like it’s been months. But the reality is, I was gone for a less than twenty-four hours.

The biometric ID scanners posted above the front doors of the Academy scan me and signal the security system to deactivate.

The big double doors swing open. I really want to stroll into the Academy. I want to stride in hand-in-hand with Matholook, regale everyone with tales of running into him and the giant, rescuing Gwernna, and attending a Devoted memorial service for the dead. I want to find Kress, pull her aside, and tell her about my traversion. I want to brag about my victory in the Brawl and announce my triumphant return to the Academy, where I’m fully prepared to jump right back into the swing of things like I’d never left.

But my feet won’t move.

Matholook asks me what’s wrong. I lie and tell him, “Nothing.”

There’s no way I’m going to admit to him that I’m frozen in fear.

Why is coming home so much scarier than leaving?

At last, with Matholook following just behind me, I suck in a breath, and then I take the world’s most hesitant step across the Academy’s threshold.

The doors shut behind us, locking out the cold, the whipping wind, and any chance of escape or hope of turning back.

Above us, the mezzanine level is quiet. Feeble wisps of moonlight trickle down into the towering, open space from the slanted skylights in the roof. The synth-steel, chrome, glass, and light pine making up the stairs, banisters, and interior doors and floors glisten in the quiet darkness with a fresh, clean sparkle.

The white-tiled lobby is empty and polished, as always, to a high shine.

Although it definitely continues to shine, it doesn’t stay empty for long.

My enhanced senses don’t register the feel, sound, or smell of people approaching until it’s too late.

(I guess Haida Gwaii’s abandoned me. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to be me right now, either.)

Matholook isn’t greeted with the same hospitality the Devoted showed me. In fact, he winds up hovering a full foot off the floor when Terk, in a single motion, snatches him up, locks his pronged, Modified clamp onto the front of his jacket, and slams him against the wall.

Startled, I shriek and try to grab onto Terk.

Shouldering me aside—and nearly knocking me down in the process—Kress and Brohn flank Terk and start grilling Matholook about who he is and what the frack he thinks he’s doing here.

Before I can react, I’ve got Rain latched onto my left arm and Kella locked onto my right.

Dressed in their black combat gear—like they were expecting battle in our front lobby this late at night—the two teachers haul me clean off my feet. They drag me back like I’m nothing more than a sack of feathery down, and I’m amazed, as ever, by how bloody strong they are.

Everyone parts like the Red Sea for Wisp who strides across the lobby, her thick-soled military boots banging out in angry echoes, with Granden thundering along just behind her.

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