The Hunt: The Oakmont Saga, Book 2

Without saying a word, I managed to convince my new roommates not to try and fix my hair the night before. Oddly, I was more animated with them than I had been before my return to Oakmont. These girls were drawing me out in a very odd way and I couldn’t stop myself from responding.

The morning after my return to Oakmont, I got up at 5:30, returning to my old habits from my previous time there, as if I’d never left. Grabbing a change of clothes, I headed to the shower. Unlike my last time there, I didn’t sit on the shower floor crying without tears.

I did discover very quickly that I had a problem washing my hair, as I saw blood swirling in the water at my feet. At first, I thought it was my stomach, but discovered that it was my head. I stopped my cleaning, grabbed my towel and dried myself off. I then wrapped the towel around my head and got dressed. Once done, I headed to the hospital section.

“What seems to be the problem?” a nurse asked as I walked in. I unwrapped the towel, showing the blood on the towel and it beginning to run down my forehead.

“Oh, dear,” she replied, leading me into one of the small, curtained rooms. I had visited these little rooms many times in the past, not to mention the day before, so I was very familiar with them. A short time later, a doctor had removed the stitches and was examining my skull.

“What happened here?” he asked. I only shrugged my shoulders, still not able to speak. I wasn’t completely sure why I couldn’t talk, but I knew I couldn’t.

“Who opened your skull and why?” he asked jokingly.

Although I knew I was supposed to stay still, I pulled out the little notebook and wrote, “The people that captured me. They said if anyone tampered with it, that it’d fry my brain” I then turned it for him to see.

He looked at it and then at me. When he read it, the look of shock on his face was incredible. He had obviously been a little concerned or curious at me writing my responses, but that was forgotten with what I wrote.

Moving a magnifying device over my head, he began messing with the area. “They could have at least closed it up properly,” he stated, as he worked on it. “I’m going to try and clean this up, so be very still,” he instructed me.

“Nurse, get me a novocaine injection, along with some staples, and some surgical glue,” he instructed the nurse.

“Yes, doctor,” she replied, and left the room. A moment later, she returned, pushing a cart with a number of different things on it.

The doctor lifted a wet sponge on a stick and looked at me, “This will only sting a little,” he informed me.

I didn’t even flinch as he rubbed the liquid into my scalp. Before he even touched the area, my scalp was completely numb. He began working on removing the existing stitches, first. Done with that, he got the tube of glue and did something to my head, but since I couldn’t feel it, I had no idea what he was doing. Finally, he stapled my scalp closed.

“I would like to see what they did inside your skull, but I’m really not qualified for that. You did very good,” he said, smiling at me. I didn’t have any smiles left in me, and only barely looked up at him.

“Your hair will grow back relatively soon, and you’ll be just as pretty as ever,” he promised, to which I only shrugged. Not having anything else to add, he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and sat in front of me.

“I don’t know why they did this, but I do know I can’t fix it. You need a neurosurgeon. As for the cut, I closed it up much better than they did. It should heal without hardly any scarring. Now, why aren’t you talking?”

“I don’t know,” I wrote, when I finally found my notebook.

“I would guess you could at some point. Were you able to talk up until they did this to you?” he asked, to which I nodded. “Hmm,” he intoned, just looking at me.

“Your teachers will not be pleased with you not speaking, so I’ll put a note in your file to excuse you from verbal communication. However, I’ll also require counselling to see if we can address the root issue,” he told me, to which I again nodded.

“I’ve done counselling before and it didn’t help,” I wrote.

“Well, I have to try something and this is the first step.” He then started reading something on his tablet, becoming very focused on it for a while.

“It seems there was a desire to get counselling for you when you were here before, but those efforts were met with resistance, or rather, a lack of resources. Things have changed since you were here last, and we have easier access to such services, and it appears you were the catalyst for the changes,” he said, a small smile on his face. Yet again, I only shrugged my shoulders. I knew who had pushed to get me help the last time, and I also knew why it never happened. At least, I knew where she got the resistance from.

“Ah, here is our prodigal child,” I heard a familiar voice say. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in around two years, other than in my vision dream things, and it sent chills up my spine as I saw the Headmaster open the curtain.

“Normally, a student that attempted escape would be punished, and maybe you should be. However, we will allow some leniency, thanks to the improvements that have been implemented thanks to your semi-successful effort,” he said to me. Although I probably should have gotten mad at his taunt, I didn’t. It simply didn’t matter to me.

“Just as quiet as you were before, I see,” he said, when I didn’t reply.

“She is completely non-verbal, Headmaster,” the doctor informed him.

“Well, she needs to get her voice back, then. She has a lot of work to catch up on,” he stated, a smug smile plastered on his face.

“I see that she has had her tracking device installed. Very good, and good job sealing up the incision, doctor,” Headmaster Raughlin acknowledged.

“It doesn’t take much to improve on what was done. I hope the doctor that installed the device knew what he was doing. He was playing around with her brain, after all,” the doctor replied, a little snippy sounding.

“It doesn’t matter. This subject is expendable,” he stated, shocking me very badly, and I could tell it shocked the doctor and the nurse as well. Both of them had a very displeased expression, and weren’t trying to hide it.

What really made me think though, was that he didn’t care what happened to me. That meant that I wasn’t the real target. It hit me very hard, as the realization came. They were after Ben and Eliana, not me and Aliyah.

I was so stunned, I didn’t even remember him leaving, or me returning to my room. I did remember seeing an odd smile on the Headmaster’s face, though. I finally returned to the world of the living as my new roommates started hurrying me to get ready for morning exercise. They seemed to think I cared about getting in trouble, which I didn’t.

If these people were after Ben and Eliana, I needed to find a way to stop them. Considering my current circumstances, it was obvious I had to do it from the inside. I had no idea how I could manage it, considering the thing they had in my head, but I had to figure it out, even if it killed me.

I went to morning exercise, following Emily, Chelsea and Maddie, although I knew exactly where I was going. They didn’t seem to care that I had led them to the cafeteria the night before, seeming to think they needed to guide me.

Kids looked at me as I walked through the halls, much more so than when I first came to Oakmont. I wasn’t sure if it was because of some unwarranted tall tale about me, or because of the bald spot on my head. It could have been both, I guessed.

What really seemed odd was that no one was messing with me in the halls. I knew the rules and I wasn’t really paying attention to them, no matter how much my roommates tried to reign me in, and yet, no one was messing with me.

“Ah, Melanie, I’m sorry, Subject 32145. Welcome back,” Coach Hammond said, as I walked into the gym. He actually seemed pleased to see me.

I gave a slight nod and a half hearted smile, nothing more. His brow furrowed as I did this, but he didn’t say anything else to me. Instead, he went to work, getting all of us kids started on our morning warm up exercises. I didn’t even attempt to do any exercise, spending the entire period sitting against a wall, my knees pulled up to my chin. It was a little odd to me that Coach Hammond didn’t say anything to me the entire session.

When exercise was over, I got up quickly and made my exit. I saw Coach Hammond trying to come my way, but I was faster than him, even as damaged as I was.

After my escape from the gym, I returned to my room and got ready for the day. Looking at my schedule, my first class was Civics, followed by English and then Calculus 3. Those were all going to be boring. After that, I had lunch and then they put me in a Physics class, which was Heat, Light and Sound. After Physics, I had Advanced Mind Control. From what I remembered about the different mind control classes, I was pretty sure every student in there was going to be older than me. My last class was martial arts, which I knew was going to be tough.

As I entered Civics, I was a little surprised to see Mr. Ratzinger. He glanced at me and began class, without saying anything to me. When I left his class, I was mildly surprised that I hadn’t been paddled, but I wasn’t going to complain about it.

I was hoping to have Mrs. Schmoltz for English, but instead I had a very large, round woman named Mrs. Babcock. “Welcome to my class, Subject 32145. I do not believe I’ve ever had a student with a name such as that,” she said, looking at a piece of paper she was holding.

I had no idea what to say, so I remained silent and still. Of course, the silence was a given, considering my current inability to speak.

“You will reply respectfully when addressed,” she said, using a very stern voice. “I am not able to speak,” I quickly wrote. Just as I finished writing, I felt the slap of a paddle on my upper legs. Thankfully, it wasn’t very hard, although it did hurt a little.

“You will not write when I am addressing you and I expect you to reply appropriately,” she told me. I picked up the notebook and handed it to her.

“What is this?” she asked, reading it and then looking at me. I was unable to reply, since she still had the notebook. The paddle slapped my legs again, this time a little harder. “You will speak when spoken to.”

Unable to make myself speak, I just stood there, knowing this wasn’t going to be good. Again, the paddle landed on my backside. Each time she hit me, the whack was getting harder and more painful, but what she didn’t know was that she wasn’t capable of inflicting enough pain to break me. After four more hits with the paddle, each getting harder, she finally said, “I will let this go for now, but you will learn to speak or be disciplined every day you are in my class.” I didn’t offer any response, earning one last whack with the paddle.

I barely remembered Calculus, since it was very boring and the teacher didn’t even acknowledge my existence. When I got to the cafeteria, I wasn’t hungry and didn’t even bother going through the lunch lines. Two of my three roommates joined me within a few minutes after I sat down.

“You’re not eating again?” Maddie asked, although it was obvious I wasn’t. I simply shrugged.

“You’ve got to eat,” Emily urged. Not wanting to hear their continued badgering of me, I got up and found something to eat that, although not much, would appease them.

“Where’s the notebook I gave you?” Emily asked, pulling out a blank piece of paper and a pen, and sliding them in front of me.

“My English teacher took it and didn’t give it back,” I wrote.

“Who do you have?” Maddie asked.

“Mrs. Babcock,” I replied.

“She’s new. I don’t know her,” Maddie stated.

“I can’t help you now, but I’ll see if I can get you a new notebook,” Emily told me, to which I gave her a small nod of thanks.

I left lunch for my new Physics class, which wasn’t anything like the last time I was at Oakmont. There was no paddle hanging from a nail. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t see a paddle anywhere in the room.

“Welcome to Heat, Light and Sound, Subject 32145. I understand that your last foray into Physics at Oakmont was not the most conducive to learning. I assure you, that unfortunate series of events will not be repeated. As things stand now, we have already begun the year, but from what I know of you, that shouldn’t be a problem,” said the middle aged looking man, who walked in with an air of superiority and blatant arrogance.

He was wearing twede from head to toe, complete with one of those English teacher looking sweaters, and those funny looking leather shoes. To complete the look, he had half glasses sitting on the end of his nose. Although I couldn’t see his eyes, his hair was plain brown. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of any other color in it.

He looked at me for a little while, seeming a little put off by my lack of response. Finally, I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote, “I’m sorry, but I can’t speak.” I walked to him and stuck out the piece of paper, which he accepted and read, his eyebrows lifting as he did.

I had thought the nurse, or maybe it was the doctor, was going to note my lack of speech in my record. Either it hadn’t happened, or my teachers simply hadn’t read it. Either way, it wasn’t doing me a lot of good.

“Alright, so you can’t speak. Today is lab day and that’ll make your lab effort a little more interesting, but we’ll make it work,” he said, then began surveying the classroom. “Richard, she’ll be with you. Maybe she’ll help propel you to better success. Make sure she gets up to speed and also has any materials she needs to be successful. Your success depends on her success,” he said, when his eyes finally stopped. There was an almost menacing tone to the teacher’s voice, as he instructed Richard what he had to do.

When I looked to the back of the class, where Richard was, my heart almost stopped, seeing the same Richard that helped James and Chelsea torment me only a couple of years ago. “Yes, sir,” Richard replied, actually looking a bit nervous as I looked over at him.

Before I even sat down, Richard had begun assembling all of the stuff for the lab. Since I had no idea what we were even doing, I began reading the material, allowing him to do what he was doing. I was shaking the entire time, unable to stop myself.

“I know you’re really smart, but you haven’t been in class. Just try and keep up and I’ll do all the work for you,” Richard said, shocking me back to the world. I hadn’t even realized he was done assembling the lab equipment.

I understood what the lab was about by that point, but I was still behind on the lessons, even if the material was easy and I’d already learned it. For some reason, I let Richard run the experiment, without offering any real assistance. Once the experiment was complete, we both set to writing our lab report. The one thing I had done for him was to record the data. We’d been given a table for the results, but I designed a differently formatted table, which presented the data in a much more readable way.

“That was good,” Richard said, referring to my table, once he was done with his report. I barely gave a nod of acceptance of his complement, still struggling not to shake. There were too many bad memories associated with him, to just act as though it had never happened.

When the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and headed for the door. Unfortunately, I wasn’t fast enough, since my stomach wound was still hampering my mobility. Richard caught me in the hallway, and stopped directly in front of me, not allowing me an easy way to escape. I almost turned around and ran away, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let me. I began shaking again and tears leapt into my eyes, as he stood in front of me, blocking my escape.

“Please,” he actually begged. The tone, more than the word, stopped me.

“I know you went through a lot, when you were here before. I’m partially responsible for that, and I’m sorry. I know that’ll never make it right, but I didn’t like doing what was done to you, or what they tried to do to you, anyway,” he said. I was shaking badly, unable to stop myself.

“I won’t hurt you, even if they order me to again,” he promised me. Again, I stood there, like a statue.

“Listen, I graduate out this year, but I wanted to let you know that, for what it’s worth. I’m not sure what they’re going to do with me, since I’m not any good as an agent, and I’m not smart enough to be a teacher. I really don’t know what they do with the washouts,” he said, sounding somewhat pitiful.

“I know why James always liked you. You really are pretty, but you’re really strong too, and I don’t mean just in telepathy. Your strength is what really drew him to you,” he said. His odd compliment was shocking and actually felt good. It was really weird, though, considering who had given it.

Since I wasn’t talking, and he seemed to have run out of stuff to say, he looked down at the ground a moment and then abruptly left. He almost seemed embarrassed, or maybe nervous.

As I continued walking, now that he was gone, I began thinking about Richard. During the attacks by James, I’d never really paid attention to him, my mind so focused on James, and to a lesser degree, Chelsea. It was ironic that I now had a roommate with the same name as the second of the trio, as well as Richard as my lab partner.

I was dreading martial arts, as I entered the room. Oddly, Mr. Braun motioned me to a chair against the wall and didn’t say anything to me. Class was just as brutal as I remembered it, but for everyone else, since I wasn’t allowed to participate.

Finally leaving a very boring hour of watching everyone else, which I actually learned something, I headed to my mental studies class. Mr. Miller was there waiting, a smile on his face.

“Melanie, it is so good to see you again. The last time I saw you, you were in a coma in the hospital.” There were several things that all occurred to me at the same time. First, he called me by my actual name, not by my subject number. Second, I didn’t realize he had visited me during that time. Somehow, no one had told me about that.

“And before you ask, I will call you by your name, not by that number, regardless what they tell me,” he said, seeming to understand what I was thinking. “And no, I can’t read your mind right now. That device prevents it,” he added. I had thought that was true, but it was nice to have confirmation.

What worried me though, was if I figured out how to get rid of the thing, they’d know as soon as a telepath came near me. Considering this was a building full of telepaths, that would pretty much be immediate.

However, I had to figure out how to get rid of it. It didn’t matter if they figured it out or not, I couldn’t live with that thing constantly in me, a threat to my very existence. I just didn’t know how...yet.

“Melanie, I will pair you with Chelsea, since she is likely the closest to you in strength,” he began.

“Mr. Miller, I’m at the top of the strength chart,” Chelsea interjected.

“I know, but she’s still stronger, regardless what the chart says. For all I know, she could be even stronger now than she was when she was here previously. Of course, she could be much weaker after what happened to her, but we have no way of knowing,” he replied. He looked at her for a while before turning back to me.

“Melanie, I know you can mask your strength, but I want you to let me see it. Knowing your strength will help me know how to work with you. Please don’t hide it,” he said, almost pleading. As if I’d give him that much information. That’d never happen!

He reached over and touched a button on a small remote control looking device sitting on his desk. I felt it as soon as it happened. The block on my ability was instantly gone. I could almost feel the shield, or whatever it was that had blocked me, as it winked out of existence.

I almost let as many tentacles out as I could. It was a struggle, but I did manage to control myself, and my strong desire to release all of my strength and power, if only for a moment. Thankfully, my normally paranoid nature exerted itself and I held myself back, not showing even a single tentacle.

Of course, Mr. Miller was watching me. He knew that the desire to ‘stretch my muscles’ would be overwhelming, and he was waiting for it. There was a moment of surprise on his face when he realized that it wasn’t going to happen, as well as a clear expression of disappointment. Seeing his expression, I knew that he knew I wasn’t going to show him my strength, no matter his plea.

“I can’t say I blame you, but I wish you would trust me,” he whispered to me. I almost laughed at him. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I was still in shock from the events of only two days ago, and my resulting lack of speech, I’m pretty sure I would have.

“Alright class, you have your partners. I want shields up on everyone. Your partner is to try and penetrate your shield, while you do the same to your partner. Always remember to maintain your shield, even while attacking,” he instructed us.

In my experience, as soon as you attacked, your shield was automatically weakened, and there wasn’t much you could do about it. I’d used that vulnerability in the past against attackers, to penetrate their shields.

“Should you get through, do not injure your partner. Simply send some kind of mild image, letting them know of your success. At that time, both of you are to stop that session and begin again,” he told us.

Before he’d completely stopped talking, I felt Chelsea attack. Thankfully, my shields were already in place. It was instinctive for me. I almost traced her probe back into her mind, but I knew she was stronger than any I’d fought before, so I held back, waiting and watching...studying.

She attacked numerous times, sometimes with a single probe carrying as much energy as she had, and others she would send a barrage of probes, all trying to find some hole in my shield. Every time, I could see her shield drop in strength significantly. I wondered if Mr. Miller was watching us, like I suspected he was. My question was answered almost as soon as it entered my thoughts

“Chelsea, hold please. Melanie, you’re making no attempt to counterattack when it’s obvious that her shields drop in strength when she attacks, giving you an easy entrance. Why?” he asked. I only shrugged my shoulders. Obviously not happy with my response, he unexpectedly attacked me. Unlike Chelsea, his probes were very skilled and found kinks where I didn’t even know they existed. He didn’t enter my mind, but sent little images to let me know he’d penetrated, which I already knew.

“As I said, you’re to attack and defend, not just defend,” he commanded me. I meekly nodded, but I was seething inside. Oddly, I wasn’t angry at him, but at myself. My shields were pathetic, and he had just shown me how bad they were.

I looked at him, the anger in me obviously showing in my eyes, and I held up my hand with two fingers extended. I hoped he understood my message.

He seemed to get the message, as he began his attack again after a moment of obvious hesitation. When he began, it was a little weaker than the first time, as if he wasn’t sure he should be doing it. Getting frustrated at his apparent lack of effort, I sent a wave of energy into my shield, making it shoot out, kind of like an explosion, toward him.

There was a moment of shock from him, where it not only registered on his face, but his attack completely stopped, and he actually stumbled back. In that moment, I hit him. Although my tentacles looked weak, they weren’t, and he knew it as soon as I assaulted his shields. He was forced another step back, not that the steps really mattered. Although I never penetrated his shields, there was sweat on his forehead when he finally returned the attack.

As with his first attack, he found holes in my shields, as if there was a little map for him. It frustrated me so much, when he finally stopped the engagement, both of us sweating profusely, I was seeing red. It’d been a long time since I’d suffered one of those attacks, but I knew I was close.

“Calm down, before you have a psychic burst,” he told me. His words only made me madder. I felt that click in my head as the pain exploded in me and I felt it as a wave of energy pulsed out from me.