The Hunt: The Oakmont Saga, Book 2

“Headmaster, give us an update,” the female voice demanded.

“Madam chairman, we have acquired Subject 32145, and shouldn’t be far from acquiring the other three soon,” he replied.

“I understand that the device was implanted,” a familiar male voice said.

“That is correct, Senator,” Raughlin said. When he addressed the man with that title, the man’s identity suddenly clicked in my mind. He was supposed to be one of Dad’s friends. How could Mr. Bert betray Dad like that?

“How long before you have the others in custody?” Mr. Riley asked. I suddenly realized I was no longer thinking of him as Mr. Bert, but Mr. Riley. That quickly, my familiarity and kindness to him was gone.

“We have lost them for the moment, but they’ll show up again. They always do,” the Headmaster replied, smiling.

“What data can be obtained from 32145?” Mr. Riley asked.

“At this point, we’re not entirely sure. The subject has exhibited an incredible ability to project images into a lot of minds at once. The victims are absolutely certain she can do the things they’re seeing, yet there is no evidence that the events actually took place the way she and they say they do. The research team insists it’s a manifestation of the projection ability, which she learned from Subject 29854, James Boyle. He was obviously nowhere near as adept at it as Subject 32145 has proven to be,” he told them.

“What is the status of Subject 29854?” the woman asked.

“He’s still comatose. We have noted mental function, but nothing to suggest the subject will recover,” the Headmaster replied.

“We are going to discuss termination. We will let you know of our decision,” she told him.

“As you direct, madam chairman,” he said, no feeling in his tone.

As had happened many times, I woke up in a cold sweat and shaking. I knew the dream wasn’t a dream, but some kind of vision I had into other people’s lives. I didn’t understand why I had them, but I did. So far, they hadn’t really helped me much, other than to worry me.

However, as much as I didn’t like James, I didn’t like them killing him that easily. It wasn’t right.

I then realized it was almost 5:00 in the morning. Whatever had happened to me, it’d knocked me out for quite a while.

Although I didn’t want to experience that kind of pain again, I knew it was the only way to beat this thing. Of course, I now knew that they could do what they said. The listening to my conversations was probably a lie, but frying my brain wasn’t. At least, I was pretty sure it wasn’t.

The question was, how could I get this thing out of me without killing myself? I had no idea, considering my one attempt to just touch it. I wasn’t sure I could suffer that pain and successfully get the thing out of me. The problem was, I had to try. As much as I hated James, I couldn’t let them kill him like that and the only way I could do anything was to free myself of this.

Reaching into my head again, I gave the slightest brush of my mind against one of the little wires. It was as slight as I could manage to touch it, but as soon as I did, pain exploded throughout every inch, every pore of my body. It felt like every single hair exploded.

I wasn’t sure if I screamed or not, but when I finally opened my eyes again, all three girls were standing over me. Even Chelsea looked worried. When did she get back? She’d been knocked out by my attack in class.

“What happened?” Emily asked, when she realized my eyes were open, and I seemed to be looking at them.

When she gave me the notebook, I quickly wrote, “I think the thing in my head did that.”

“Oh God!” Maddie exclaimed. I agreed with her, but I was still in too much pain to really respond anymore than I already had.

This was going to be much harder, and worse, than I thought. I had no idea how to get rid of this thing, and it seemed to be able to defend itself from any efforts I made to even touch it, much less remove it.

Just like last time, my life sucked...and badly. At least I wasn’t being beaten and abused like I had been. I hoped I was stronger than last time, maybe able to defend myself a little better. Actually, I hoped I wouldn’t have to find out, but Mr. Miller’s offer suddenly seemed a lot more interesting.

It dawned on me, the two girls were being friendly to me again. I had no idea what to think of their changing attitude toward me. It didn’t make sense, and there was a kind of subtle feeling that something was different with them. I couldn’t put my finger on it, though.

Deciding to not worry about it, and also that now wasn’t the best time to try touching the device again, especially considering how much pain I was still in, I got ready for morning exercise. The day was a blur. None of my teachers seemed to really care what I did, or didn’t do. The only exception was mental training, and oddly, Mrs. Babcock. Mr. Miller definitely did care.

Mrs. Babcock paddled me for a while, until she finally seemed to get bored with beating me. Mr. Miller, the teacher for mental training, pushed me hard. That was no different than he’d been my first time at Oakmont, though. He always suspected I was strong, especially after yesterday, and obviously wanted to discover everything I was hiding.

When I arrived at class, he came over to me. “Melanie, just like yesterday, I’ll remove the block on your skill for the duration of this class. Understand, there are monitors in place to observe you without fear of you tampering with them. If anything looks out of the ordinary, the block will be put back in place, and it’ll likely be met with a considerable amount of discomfort,” he informed me. I nodded understanding.

Like the day before, it was incredible when I felt the block lift. It was like I had been held in a tiny little box for a while and was finally allowed out to stretch my legs. Thanks to my previous training, the first thing I did was to send a probe into the school, hiding it from view. I hadn’t done that yesterday, but today I was feeling more daring.

As usual, my shields slammed into place immediately. That was a good thing, as several of the older kids tried to get in my mind as soon as the block was removed. They’d been waiting.

The device blocked my telepathy, but it also seemed to work like a shield for me, not letting anyone else in. I wondered if the doctors were trying to figure out how to fix that. It’d make sense that they’d like to block my ability, but they’d still want to get access to my mind. I knew I’d want it to work that way, if I was them.

“You seem distracted,” Mr. Miller said, as he came over to me. I shook my head, although I definitely was distracted. I was attempting to split my thoughts on two things at once, but he shouldn’t know that, I hoped.

“Then let’s get started. Today we’re going to do something a little different. Although everyone here has been given basic training in image projection, Melanie seems to have an advanced ability to project images into people’s minds, including other telepaths. Melanie, would you please explain how you do this?” he commanded.

“Can I use my telepathy to explain it,” I wrote. His eyebrow rose as I asked that, and after a decently long pause, he nodded approval.

“Lower your shields, if you have them up,” he instructed the class. As soon as he had completed his instruction, I sent a probe into every mind in the class, including his. Having learned at least a little from the previous day’s lesson, I maintained my shield. Although I was vulnerable with a probe in each of them, I wasn’t as vulnerable as they were and my shield might give me a second longer than them, if I needed it.

Just before I sent the images and instructions, something became obvious to me. I could feel the differences in each of their minds. It was kind of like a signature, or the difference in how each of us look. What an interesting and useful little lesson I had just learned.

Quickly putting that knowledge aside, I sent a deluge of information to everyone in the class. Of course, I didn’t give them everything. I wanted to maintain some advantage over them. I also didn’t actually speak, only sending impressions and images, but in greater detail than any of them had ever experienced before. Of course, I had no idea if any of them had experienced receiving mental projections. I also had no idea if they were able to understand what I sent, and I really didn’t care.

When I was done, I removed my probes. As I was doing that, my other probe was still searching. Unfortunately, I never found the object of my quest before the class ended. Unlike the day before, the block was put back in place at the end of class.

Mr. Braun was just as hard as he’d always been, but to everyone else. He did seem to have some odd respect for me, which didn’t make sense. With my injuries, he wasn’t able to let me participate in class, but he didn’t comment on it like he used to.

Toward the end of class, he shocked me by using me as a part of his lesson. “Mrs. Brager...I’m sorry, Subject 32145 has learned what we are trying to teach you here at Oakmont, and she learned it within her first few months here. She was never the best fighter. She was viewed as weak with her mental skills, but she made up for it by using all of her talents together, and as such did what no other student has ever done before or since. Think about that, when you hate me for being hard on you. You may be a better fighter, but if you can’t defend your mind, you will fall. You may be the strongest telepath, but if you can’t defend your body, you will fall. For all of her faults, she gets that and is stronger because of it,” he said, patting my shoulder as he walked by me. It was almost surreal. He had been one of my most abusive teachers when I was here before.

I finished my second day back at Oakmont in a fog. Nothing seemed real.

Getting to my room, I layed on my bed and closed my eyes. Gently, I reached out, or rather, into my brain and put my ‘fingers’ around the thing, but didn’t touch it. I wanted to see what would happen if I touched all of the little wires at the same time. I’m not sure why I decided to do it, but I had.

I was scared, though. I knew how much a whisper of a touch on one had hurt, and I was about to touch all of the hair thick wires at once. Just as I was about to touch them, I decided to include the thicker wire that went directly down into my brain.

I had paused as I made that adjustment, and that pause got me to thinking, what if I encased the thing in a force field? The problem with that idea was, I wasn’t good enough with the force field to do such a delicate task. I was afraid I might damage actual brain tissue, and I had no idea what effect that would have, although I could probably guess.

Instead of doing what I knew would hurt...a lot, I decided to start working on my force field, making it sharper, if not stronger. Maybe that was cowardice, but the pain was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before, and that included their torture.

With that idea, I pulled a hair off my head, and began trying to place a force field around it, with as little space inside the field as possible. My first attempt was a complete failure. I could see the space with my naked eye. I worked on it for quite a while before I had to stop, which was when Emily came in.

“Let’s go get dinner,” she said, bouncy and happy, apparently back to her usual mode.

“What about the others?” I asked, via my notebook.

“They’re doing something else tonight,” she replied, when she read my question. Shrugging my shoulders at yet another change in attitude by her, I followed her out of the room and to the cafeteria. The meal didn’t stick in my memory at all, not that much did anymore. Aside from the numbness I was still suffering from the torture and the murders committed in front of me, I had other things on my mind.

“Let’s go to the gameroom,” she said, when we were done eating. Although I had no desire to play games, I went along with her, if for no other reason than to build a relationship that could be useful. Who knew, maybe she could actually be a friend, although there was a nagging feeling of unease that I couldn’t shake.

She was more into the video games, unlike Aliyah, who always loved bowling. Her preference was first person shooters, which I thought was ironic, considering what the Oakmont program trained us for.

As we were killing each other, and all of the other ‘bad’ guys in the game, my mind began drifting and questions came to me that I needed to answer. Should I start training with Mr. Miller, or not? Was there any real chance of saving James... and should I even do it? What was with Richard the day before? Where was Aliyah and the kids, and what were they doing? Were they safe? What was happening with Mom and Dad? How could I get this thing out of my head? Considering my sudden unease with my new roommates, was I going totally crazy?

At least the first question was pretty easy. I needed to improve my skill, so yes, I should train with Mr. Miller. I’d pretty much already decided that, anyway. The rest of the questions had no ready answers, though.

The next day, Thursday, I went through my classes not remembering having even been there. That included my mind control class, although that subject was where my mind was. I was sure Mrs. Babcock had paddled me, but I didn’t remember that either.

When classes were finally done, I went to Mr. Miller’s class, hoping that’s where he’d be. Unfortunately, he wasn’t and I had no idea where else he could have been.

A moment before they hit, I sensed a group of probes heading for my mind, which was at the moment the block was removed. My shield snapped in place as soon as that understanding came, but it was too late. My attacker was in my mind.

With all of my will, I started mentally fighting the probes that had infiltrated. After what seemed like forever, I finally wrestled the last of them out, but I was completely spent. If my attacker had any energy left, they had me. I fell to my knees, unable to hold myself up any longer.

“Very good,” I heard Mr. Miller tell me, as he helped lift me up.

He led me into his class, putting me in a desk once we were inside. I had no energy, so I laid my head on the desk, ready to go to sleep.

“Drink this,” he told me, offering me a metal water bottle. I couldn’t see the liquid, so I had no idea what I was about to drink. Following his orders, I lifted the pour spout and drank deeply from it. The flavor was odd, but not bad. As the liquid got to my stomach, I began to feel a little better, my energy not restored but I wasn’t feeling quite as exhausted.

“That is a unique blend of fruits and herbs that has been found to restore energy after extensive mental exhaustion. With telepaths, it seems to be even more impressive in its benefits,” he explained, as I drank even more of it.

“What you just went through was an unexpected attack, which may happen in the future, if it hasn’t already. You were compromised and managed to wrest me out. That was impressive, but I shouldn’t have even gotten in. That’s one of the things you need to be prepared for, always.”

“Now that you’re tired, we won’t attempt anything too hard today. Rather, I want to teach you about your shields and why they’re so easily pierced. You see, every telepath has a unique signature, kind of like your face and your expressions. They help define who you are, at least physically. Your shield is your telepathic face,” he was saying. I had already kind of started figuring that out with my earlier entry into the classes minds, but to hear him say it was interesting.

“You were already figuring that out, weren’t you?” he asked, seeing my reaction. I nodded confirmation. “You’re smart enough to have figured that out, so I’m not surprised. I would guess it was during our exercise yesterday,” he said, lightly nodding at my reply and his assumption, to which I again nodded.

“You can’t alter that look and feel. What you can do is close the little holes that are there, kind of like pores. You have to in order to make your shields stronger. Otherwise, any adept telepath can get through, without too much effort,” he explained.

After a moment to let me digest what he had said, I looked up at him and he said, “shields!”

Before the word was completely out of his mouth, his probes had hit my mind. I only barely managed to get my shields up in time, but I did. Of course, he went straight through them.

“Watch my connector,” he instructed me. I began following his connector, or probe as I called them, as he stopped at little divots in my shield. As he showed them to me, and I saw them, he went straight through them.

“Now, imagine putting a metal patch on that spot,” he told me. I did as he instructed and he then sent his probe to it again. This time, it didn’t get through. He smiled at me, and I actually smiled back.

“That’s how you make your shield stronger, but there are little holes like that all over your shields, every telepaths shields. You actually have fewer than many, but still plenty for an attacker to get through, that knows what he...or she, is doing,” he said.

When he seemed to think I’d gotten what he said, he continued, “You must be able to close all of those holes at once. For every telepath, how that is done depends on how their mind works. As unique as your mind is, I won’t even attempt to try and tell you how, but you must figure it out.”

His explanation brought an idea to me that I was anxious to try. Without my notebook in front of me, I motioned to him to attack me by pointing at him and then hitting the side of my head with my fist. He understood immediately.

I wasn’t quick enough to do what I had in mind, and he got in before I could stop him. He shook his head only slightly, but I was determined. I motioned for him to do it again.

This time, I was ready. I erected my shields, and envisioned a second shield around that. Then, just to be safe, I envisioned a third shield around that. Those shields I envisioned to be stainless steel spheres wrapped around my mind. There was actually a surprised look on his face as his probes hit my new shields and were unable to find any weakness that time.

“That was excellent. Now, give me a moment to study this and see if I can find a hole,” he said, and closed his eyes. A long time later, he finally opened his eyes and smiled at me. “You did very good. I can’t find any holes, anywhere. The real questions are, can you attack with that up, and can you throw it up reflexively, whenever you put up your normal shield?”

“I will randomly attack you, and I’m not referring to right now, because you’ll be expecting it. I mean during the day. I won’t implement the block, unless I have to. I want you to be able to train and this is part of it. I’ll also get word out that no student is to attempt to probe you in any way. That way, you can leave your shields down normally, and I can attack you whenever I want.”

I nodded understanding and he continued. “Once I’m confident your shields are as close to impervious as possible, we’ll then start working on attacking with them in place. Although I’m teaching the class that particular talent, I want you to excel at it. You’ll need it. There are much stronger and well trained telepaths out there that will eventually target you. If you have a team, you can supplement each other’s energy. That’s for another day, though,” he told me, to which I nodded.

“Go get some food and some sleep. Although that juice restores mental energy, it doesn’t get rid of the physical toll such an attack takes,” he said, and I knew I was tired.

My head was pounding by the time I made it back to my room, and I had no appetite, so I didn’t bother to get dinner. Of course, I didn’t have much of a desire to eat anyway.

The next day was much the same as the last. Classes were a blur and training with Mr. Miller was hard. True to his word, I was randomly attacked three different times between classes, and once while I was in Physics. It shocked all of the students to see a mental battle playing out right there in class.

I did have another counselling session with Mrs. Trulin, but it ended pretty much like the first. She didn’t seem to know how to handle me and I had no desire to help her in any way.

When I left Mr. Miller that afternoon, my head hurting again and me feeling like jelly, I dropped into my bed and was asleep as soon as my head landed on the pillow.

The weekend was torture for me. I had no friends, although the more friendly two of my roommates tried to get me to go with them. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t shake the odd feeling I got when they were around. Oddly, I didn’t have that feeling with Chelsea, but she was very clear in her dislike of me.

As if there had been no interruption, I returned to my old ways, walking through the old areas of the school. I very quickly realized that the old areas of the school, which were uninhabited when I was here before, were no longer empty. Most of the offices were occupied and all of the labs seemed to have people at work. The few times that an adult would come into the hall, they’d look at me oddly, but never say a word to me. It was very disconcerting, and I eventually had to leave.

I finally made my way to my old room, which was thankfully unoccupied. It looked exactly as we’d left it, even to the clothes in the drawers. That was also very weird. I’d have thought they’d have cleaned it out.

Sitting on my old bed, I closed my eyes and went inside my head, examining, without touching, the device implanted there. I still needed to figure that thing out, or I had no chance of ever doing anything.

Opening my eyes back up, I went to my old desk and grabbed a pencil. Slowly, I began encasing it in a force field. I went very slowly, hoping to see how the field went around the pencil, maybe get a better feel for it. Finally, the last tiny hole sealed shut, and the pencil was completely enclosed in a steady purple glow of energy. I doubted anyone else would be able to see it, but I could.

Unfortunately, there was still too much space between the field and the pencil. With a massive amount of concentration, this wasn’t easy, I started trying to shrink the field around the pencil. By the time I had reduced the space a noticeable amount, I was sweating profusely and my head was pounding. There was still too much space, though. I gave it one last effort, and the field collapsed very fast and a lot more than I’d meant. Releasing the energy, the pencil became a kind of dust, with some oddly shaped chunks of compressed wood and graphite mangled together.

At that point, I knew I was done. My head hurt too bad, and I suspected there was probably blood coming from my eyes and nose, and probably my ears too. I got up, moving very slow, as getting up fast wasn’t even possible. It took a minute to get my balance, but when I did, I made my way to the bathroom that Aliyah and I had shared for a while.

It took no time to clean the small amount of blood from my face. It was actually much less than I had feared.

Once done, I made my way back to my new room to repeat my daily routine, complete with random attacks from an unseen attacker. The pattern was getting very rigid, not even one week into it. In addition, I was ending almost every day with a massive headache. That really wasn’t much different than when I was at Oakmont the first time. At least this time, there was a good reason for it with the prospect of a good result.