The Academy (Moving In Series Book 6) (15 page)

“Hello,” a man said.

Bradley gave a yelp of surprise and turned toward the sound. A man stood in the doorway. Specifically, it was Nathaniel Weiss. Bradley blinked once and then passed out.

When he came to for the second time, Bradley found himself lying on the floor again. He pushed himself back into an upright position and saw Nathaniel Weiss once more. The man sat on the floor across from Bradley, and he smiled.

Bradley could see through the man, as though he were an image superimposed on reality. Nearly a second passed before the man solidified and no longer appeared ethereal.

“This isn’t real,” Bradley whispered. “You’re dead.”

“Wrong, and right,” Weiss said. With a gesture of his hand the door closed and locked. “What is happening here is quite real, and, as it so happens, I am quite dead. Alas, I was not quite finished with my task when I was imprisoned. I thank you, though, for having released me.”

“Imprisoned?” Bradley asked. “For what? How?”

“Imprisoned for daring to look beyond the pall of death,” Weiss said, smiling. “And as to how, well, how was because my son was not nearly as driven to succeed as I am. Can you understand that?”

Bradley nodded.

“I thought you might,” Weiss said. “You look far more intelligent than most whom I’ve met.”

“How are you here?” Bradley asked.

“From years of work,” Weiss said. “Years of study. Tell me, what is your name?”

“Bradley Marion.”

“Ah,” Weiss said. “Bradley. An excellent name. Is this still my home, Bradley?”

“Your son donated the building to be used as a library when he died,” Bradley replied.

“A library? Ernest did that?” Weiss asked, chuckling. “Impressive. I would never have thought the boy to be capable of such an unselfish act. My room, though, is empty.”

Bradley nodded. “Someone decided it would serve better as a supply closet.”

Weiss shook his head. “I did some of my finest writing in this room. It should have been used for books as well.”

“You’re absolutely correct,” Bradley said, warming up to the ghost. “I had come in to see if we could.”

Weiss looked at him for a moment, and then he said, “You know, Bradley, I would be quite honored to have you use my room as your office. I take it you are the director?”

Bradley nodded, a flush of pride creeping through him.

“And so young,” Weiss murmured. Then, in a louder voice he said, “Yes, I think you would find this room quite conducive to thinking. What do you think?”

“I believe you’re absolutely correct,” Bradley replied.

“Were you left with great many books?” Weiss asked.

Bradley shook his head. “Hardly any.”

“Your first order of business, then, will be to build a proper library?”

“Yes,” Bradley answered.

“Have you catalogs?” Weiss asked. “I am sure some time has passed since I was last free of my bonds, so I apologize if some of what I say sounds rather gauche.”

Bradley smiled. “That’s alright. Yes, I do have catalogs.”

“Perhaps you could bring them up, and we could look at them together,” Weiss said, a note of excitement in his voice. “I would love to see what has been written. Literature was always a passion of mine.”

“I’ll go get them,” Bradley said excitedly.

“Yes,” the old man murmured, “please do.”

Bradley felt as though he was wrapped in a thick fog, his thoughts not moving nearly as quickly as usual.

You hit your head,
he reminded himself as he left the room,
you’ll be a little fuzzy for a while.

And with that in mind, Bradley hurried down the stairs to his desk.

Chapter 38: Searching for the Fob

The Mather House was the oldest building on the Northfield Free Academy’s campus.

Herman was terrified of it. He hadn’t met anyone who had ever been in the building. Hadn’t even seen anyone go into it.

The Mather House was short and narrow. It was built of brick, and it had slim windows protected by ancient shutters. The maintenance crew took care of the exterior, and the grass was always cut. Someone had even shoveled out the walkway up to the front door. But no one ever went into it.

Herman stood in front of it and fought back a shiver. He had his backpack on, and he looked at the dark red door, nervously. Herman took several deep breaths, forced himself to calm down, and walked up the narrow brick pathway to the front of the house. He climbed the two granite steps, took hold of the wrought iron handle, and thumbed the latch.

For a moment it stuck, and then, when Herman put all of his weight against the door, the lock popped. He staggered and nearly fell in as the hinges screamed and the old wood moved slowly inward. The house stank; rot and mildew, dead mice and stale air. His stomach rolled rebelliously, and bile stung the back of his throat.

I have to go in,
Herman thought.
I have to go all the way in. I can’t let Mr. Weiss down.

He wasn’t afraid of the ghost. Far from it. He liked the man, and he wanted to make the man happy. Herman wanted Mr. Weiss to be proud of him. Mr. Weiss had told him it might be dangerous in the house because someone named Vincent was in the building. And Vincent was angry.

Enraged is what he actually said,
Herman told himself. Vincent wouldn’t want to be taken out of the house, but that was what Herman had to do. Mr. Weiss had said there was a silver fob, which he described as a round piece of silver on a metal braid, somewhere in the house.

I need to find it before Vincent realizes I’m here,
Herman thought.

He entered the house fully, removed his backpack, and put it down in front of the door, propping it open. Light from the street lamp in front of the house entered around Herman and through the two front windows. The building consisted of only one room with a fireplace on the back wall. A slim mantle ran across the top of the hearth. Dust and cobwebs filled the corners and populated the window sills. The ashes of a long extinct fire remained in the iron grating.

Herman stepped to the left and cautiously followed the wall. He looked up and down, left and right, searching for the fob. Not until he reached the fireplace did Herman see a glint of silver.

On the mantle, in the exact center, lay the fob. Surprisingly it was free of dust, uncluttered by webs. Cold pulsed from it and made Herman nauseous. He reached out, grasped the ice-like metal, and took it down. Wincing at the pain, Herman turned the fob over in his hand and looked at the inscription.

“To Our Brother,” Herman read aloud, “Vincent Armand, for Loyal Service in the Grand Army of the Republic.”

The hinges screamed as the door was slammed closed, the shutters did the same, and Herman was thrust into darkness.

“Who are you?” a deep, rumbling voice demanded.

Herman tried to answer, but the words refused to exit his mouth. Fear poisoned his thoughts and raised the hackles on his neck.

“Why are you here?” the stranger asked.

Herman backed up a step, and suddenly the cold pressed against him.

“Tell me your
name!
”

“Herman,” Herman whispered.

“Herman. And do you know my name, Herman?”

Herman nodded in the darkness and said softly, “Vincent.”

“Yes,” Vincent hissed. “It is.”

A bitterly cold hand grabbed his face, and Herman screamed.

Chapter 39: On the Academy’s Grounds

Occasionally, because of his heart attacks, Brian suffered from insomnia. A terrible ailment for anyone, but especially for a man barely over forty. Brian’s only respite was walking. And with all of the turmoil at the Academy, it was the natural destination for a walk. He left the hotel a little after midnight, his phone tucked into one pocket, a bottle of water, and the problem of what to do about Nathaniel Weiss on his mind.

He's manipulative,
Brian thought as he walked, moving from the light of one street lamp to the next.
But is there more? Is there something else here he wants?

The answer eluded him as Brian strolled along the streets.
.

Brian’s solitary late evening walk took him to Northfield Free Academy. He came to a stop and enjoyed the way the buildings looked in the moonlight and the glow of the street lamps. Slowly, he let his eyes roam over the campus, searching for any sign of Weiss, or Gregory Weston.

Why Weston?
Brian wondered.
What does he bring to this? Why does Weiss want him free?

When he couldn’t see anyone, alive or dead, Brian smiled. The peaceful appearance of the Academy reminded him of how much he enjoyed the solitude of the world at night. It was one of the few aspects of insomnia that he enjoyed, and one which he had difficulty explaining to Jenny.

Brian nodded to himself, took his bottle of water out of the side pocket of his cargo pants, and took a long drink from it. He paused, put the water away, and stretched. He started along the sidewalk again.

Brian looked at the Academy and saw the planetarium. He smiled as he looked at it.
I remember the telescope, the way it magnified the night sky.

Brian’s thoughts froze and he stared at the planetarium.

Magnified
, Brian thought.
What did I read about?

With his eyes closed, Brian tried to picture the books in Leo’s library. The different volumes. The lore on spirits. The way they could grow.

Power,
Brian thought, opening his eyes.
The more ghosts he controls, the greater his power grows. Weiss wants to get stronger. If he’s the instrument of Weston’s return, then Weston’s violence will increase his power.

Oh, Jesus,
Brian thought,
how strong can he get?

Nearby, a door slammed shut and interrupted Brian’s train of thought. He saw a small house on the Academy’s grounds and watched the shutters close on their own. For a moment, he stood still.

A moment later, someone inside the building screamed.

Brian raced for the house. He reached the red front door and threw his entire weight against it as another scream tore through the night. The lock snapped with a dry, brittle sound and the door was thrown open.

For the space of a second, Brian stood, panting, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. When it did, he saw an old man standing above a crumpled teenager. The man’s attention focused on Brian, a snarl curling the old man’s thin lips.

“Step away from the boy,” Brian snapped.

The man’s eyes widened slightly, and an evil grin replaced the snarl. “And what will you do if I don’t?”

“Whatever I can,” Brian said, stepping into the room as he clenched his hand into a fist, the iron ring biting comfortably into his flesh.

The old man nodded, chuckled and said, “It matters not. I am free.”

The man vanished.

A groan from the teen caught Brian’s attention. He pushed thoughts of the old man away and focused on the boy. He dropped down to his knees, carefully turned the teen’s head to him. Blood trickled from the teenager’s mouth, and the boy’s eyes were rolled back so that only the whites showed.

Brian’s hands shook with the irregular beat of his heart as he pulled out his cellphone and dialed nine-one-one.

Chapter 40: In the Emergency Room

Herman woke up in excruciating pain. His mouth felt afire, and he tasted blood. He looked around and realized he was in a hospital room.

Oh my, God,
he thought numbly, the pain quickly forgotten,
I am going to be in so much trouble.

He struggled to sit up. When he finally managed to do so, an increase in his heart rate set off an alarm on a monitor. His hand ached, and a glance down showed he had an IV in him. His clothes were gone, and someone had put a hospital gown on him. Herman tried to turn and winced. Pain had exploded in his jaw, and he lay back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights caused him to close his eyes and he let out a long, pained sigh.

I’m so dead,
Herman thought.
I will be grounded forever. For-absolutely-ever.

The door to the room opened, and he cracked open an eye. A young woman in a nurse’s uniform stepped in.

She saw him, smiled, and said, “How are you feeling, Herman?”

“Terrible,” Herman answered. It hurt to speak.

“I’m sorry,” she replied. “My name’s Lisa. I’m your nurse, okay?”

“Yeah,” Herman said.

“Listen, once the doctor comes in and gets a better look at you, we’ll get you some pain meds,” Lisa said. “Until then, we’re going to have to wait. But she should be in very shortly. We tried calling your parents, but we didn’t get an answer. And the voice mailboxes on both of the phones were full.”

“Yeah,” Herman said. “They’re out.”

“Anybody else we can call for you?” she asked.

“My neighbor, Mrs. Alcott,” Herman said. He gave Lisa the number.

The nurse jotted it down on a notepad and then said, “There is a detective here, who’s interested in what happened to you.”

“Don’t I need my parents or an adult with me?” Herman asked.

“Did you commit a crime?” Lisa asked seriously.

He thought about it for a minute before he answered, “Well, I was trespassing.”

“I don’t think they’re going to punish you for that, not after what happened to you,” Lisa said, smiling kindly.

“Um, what did happen?” Herman said.

“We were hoping you’d be able to tell us,” she said.

“I don’t remember anything,” Herman replied.

“Well, someone ripped out three of your back teeth,” Lisa said. “I’ll be back in a moment with the detective.”

Herman continued to lay down, surprised at what the nurse had said. Cautiously, he probed the right side of his mouth and held back a whimper. His teeth were gone, and it hurt terribly.

Within a few minutes, Lisa returned, accompanied by an older woman who looked like she had been carved out of stone.