Balance - Book 2 Read online

  *****

  I exited the evaluation hall triumphant with diploma in hand and medal on breast. It was short-lived, however, as I remembered my next engagement for the day was in the west wing of the Academy, back to Manipulation and Influence.

  The walk there through the Academy’s bustling halls was used to mentally prepare myself, as routine. It never did much good though, as the moment I passed through the double doors and was again assaulted by the sight of beds and pale bodies, my mood generally took a turn towards the disagreeable.

  I crossed the hall to Mister Gibson, slipping between beds and giving nods to other Cadets and instructors.

  “You’re late, Clarence,” Gibson said, voice lost in the cavernous space.

  “Sorry, sir. I was waiting to receive my Active Status”

  He glanced at the solitary medal and smiled. “You got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Any complications?”

  “None, sir.”

  “Well done, Clarence. Just a hop, skip and a jump away from Basics, then.”

  “That’s right, sir.”

  He cleared his throat. “And might I ask if you have given consideration in what school you might specialise?”

  “I haven’t decided yet, sir.”

  His face fell.

  “But it’s leaning towards Manipulation and Influence,” I added, feeling obliged.

  Light exploded in his eyes. “Excellent, excellent. I’m so pleased to hear that, the other departments will be ever so jealous.”

  “It’s not certain yet, sir. I just thought…”

  “Oh I know, take all the time you need. It’s a very difficult decision. But I will say again, you are a natural, Clarence.”

  “Thank you, sir, I’ll certainly take it into consideration.”

  “Good, good.” He reached under his chair for the customary clipboard and pen, then gestured to Judy Carlson. “Shall we begin? She has been rather restless since your visit yesterday. I guess she missed you. And a few of our other guests have likewise been a bit skittish. Must be something going around, eh?” He chuckled. And all at once his kind grandfatherly features seemed ghoulish.

  I attempted to return the chuckle, but my eyes drifted down to Judy. Saliva on her chin, empty eyes in an ambiguous state of openness. Likely attractive once, the poor forsaken creature.

  I took a position beside the bed and found my Place of Calm.

  “Mommy doesn’t wanna ride,” a voice said.

  I looked up and saw a handsome late forties man perched on a coal black horse. From the classic Stetson to the leather riding gloves, he was as close to a modern cowboy as was possible.

  Above us, the early evening sun was cooling as it began its decent towards the horizon.

  “Why not?” Judy asked.

  The girl was beside me now, pre-teenager.

  “She just doesn’t honey,” he replied, smiling, “Now hop up. Not many hours of light left.”

  Little Judy’s face contorted with agonised confusion. She turned, eyes welling with tears, and glanced at a house behind us; an enormous ranch style structure nestled in a thicket of green trees. It was immaculate and well maintained, but somehow seemed to emanate an aura of loneliness.

  She turned back to her father. The first tear traced a shining path down her cheek.

  “Why doesn’t she want to ride with us, daddy?”

  But the man remained mute, a smile frozen on his face and eyes staring at nothing. The horse, however, stared unblinkingly with an intelligence that had no business being in the eyes of an animal. From the perspective of a little girl the creature must have appeared massive.

  “Mommy doesn’t wanna ride, baby,” her father repeated, “It’s just you and me.”

  She glanced at the house again. From somewhere deep inside a voice was drifting, barely audible but persistent. It cursed and swore nonsensically, babbling insanities and screaming in animal rage.

  “I don’t wanna go without mommy,” Judy whimpered, “I don’t wanna go without her.”

  There was a pause. The sun dimmed as if retreating behind an invisible wall of clouds. Then the horse’s body began to shudder violently.

  The creature spasmed, losing functionality of its neck and foam erupted from the corners of its mouth. Then the eyes rolled white and legs threatened to buckle beneath it. I thought the animal to be suffering some kind of seizure at first, but at its flanks split open from shoulder to hip, exposing ribs and writhing internal organs, I conceded the occurrence not be in any medical books this side of sanity.

  My brain screamed. Beside me little Judy shrieked hysterically, hands clamped on either side of her head.

  Now the animal lurched up and adopted a bipedal stance, defying all laws of evolution and throwing the cowboy from its back. The black skin heaved, and suddenly human arms sprang forth from its shoulders, dripping blood and soft tissue. The head adjusted next, grinding vertebrae as it shunted down between the front equine limbs, allowing for a grotesque primate-like imitation.

  “Mommy doesn’t wanna ride,” the horse said, “Mommy doesn’t wanna ride, baby.”

  It started moved forward, body quivering as the transformation continued.

  Clop. Clop. Clop.

  “Mommy doesn’t wanna ride baby…mommy doesn’t wanna ride…”

  “Clarence?”

  I looked up.

  “Are you ready?” Gibson asked.

  I tried to nod but heart was racing. “I’ll just need a moment, sir.”

  “Another rough one?”

  “It seemed worse then usual. I think she’s sinking deeper into… whatever that is.”

  “It can happen. Would you perhaps like to select a different patient?”

  “No. It’s alright.”

  “You’ll get used to it in time.”

  “You keep saying, sir. But I’m not sure I’d ever get used to that. What happened to this girl?”

  “That’s not why we’re here, Clarence,” he said gently, “Your purpose is…”

  “I know; observation. I just can’t help but wonder.”

  “Shall we begin?”

  I sighed. “I know the answers already, sir. Do we have to go though it every time?”

  “The time has been scheduled, Clarence. We must make use of it. Most don’t get it with such accuracy so early on.”

  “Yes, sir. Of course.”

  “What animal was the demon of Judy Carlson?”

  “A horse.”

  “And what…”

  “Black.”

  “Did you at any time feel disorientated or confused?”

  “No.”

  “Did you in any way interact with all or any projections you encountered?”

  “No.”

  “Well done, Clarence,” he concluded, adding a final scribble. “I’d say you’re well and truly prepared for Basics.” His voice lowered. “I’ll tell you a little secret though, young man.”

  I obliged the whisper. “Yes, sir?”

  “I’ve already given my evaluation for your Manipulation and Influence training. You passed with flying colours.”

  “That’s wonderful, thank you sir.’

  “You earned it and more, Cadet.” He patted my shoulder affectionately. “I’d say you’re the most gifted student I’ve encountered at this Academy.”

  “Thank you, sir. And I’ll let you know if I decide to specialise in Manipulation and Influence.”

  “Please do, Clarence. You’re dismissed.”

  I nodded and headed for the doors.

  On my exit I stopped and inspected a chalkboard by the entrance. It listed persons currently occupying the many beds, and was updated as necessary throughout the week, sometimes more then once a day. It had occurred to me early on that, should coincidence prevail, my mother or grandmother might make an appearance here. I never held much hope but continued checking out of habit.

  That day again no family names were listed. But one name did catc
h my attention. One that made my heart lurch painfully.

  Linda Hasting; previously waitress at the Sushi Palace.