Star Runners Omnibus

Chapter 10

8

“We take this exit and then go a few miles.”

Austin studied the map. He designated the Tizona School of Excellence by highlighting in a bright yellow circle the land south of Interstate 16 near Savannah. After completing his registration online and the other necessary documents, he’d received an email with an address and general directions. A little further digging online revealed the school’s land had once been owned by a local family and leased for a hunting camp before it had been purchased by the school several decades ago.

He glanced at his two bags and box of personal items in the back seat.

“Don’t worry,” Mom said, “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten anything. Even if you have, it’s not like you can’t come back home.”

Austin rolled his eyes and looked out the window. “Come on, Mom, you know you’ll see me again.”

“I know. It doesn’t hurt to remind you every chance I get.”

The car rolled to a stop at the exit ramp. Mom waited as a logging truck rumbled past on the two-lane highway – a big difference from the congestion and construction of Atlanta. Ever since they had driven through Macon, the interstate traffic and the gas stations had become sparse. The vast land stretched for miles on either side of the highway and was dotted with cows and abandoned, decaying homes. The view didn’t change as they continued on this smaller state highway. They passed more empty land comprised of rolling hills, fields, and ponds.

“It sure is different down here,” she said as the car crested another hill. “Very open.”

“And we’re only about four hours from home,” he said.

Austin looked back at the map. The school should be about thirty miles from I-16. The email instructions said the property had a silver statue of a sword on either side of a two-path road near the main highway.

They passed a gas station with a crooked closed sign inside of a cracked window pane. Rusted pumps stood in front of the station like ancient sentries frozen at their posts. Weeds punched through concrete in places cars once parked on their way to Florida in the days before interstate highways.

“We should be close,” he said, squinting in the midday sun. He pulled down the sun visor. Through the dirty windshield, about a mile away at the crest of a hill, two silver swords flanked a small two-path road on the left side of the highway. “There it is!”

His stomach flipped and a lump formed in his throat. The day he had waited for had arrived, and a wave of nerves washed over him. Mom activated the turn signal and slowed the car.

The two-path road looked like it was straight out of the poetry he’d read in American Literature. A single greenish-brown line of grass stretched down the center of the road flanked by two strips of well-worn dirt. Once they were past the swords guarding the entrance, the grass and weeds on either side of the road brushed against the sides of the car. Tall trees lined the path as their car rolled off the pavement and onto the dirt. The tree branches and long weeds created a tunnel effect as they traveled in silence toward the unseen school.

The unpaved road swayed to the left, to the right, and then the tree canopy opened to pristine grass fields immaculately cut like a golf course fairway. Ahead, the road came to a wide cul-de-sac and a long, one-story building. Behind the structure, thick vegetation blocked the view beyond.

“Here we are,” Mom said as she turned down the radio.

Austin nodded. As they neared the lone building at the end of the road, a man in a dark blue suit stood on the porch lined with thick, white columns. He wore a simple hat and a single, silver sword logo glistened on his breast pocket.

Austin fidgeted with his personal bag, checking for his toothbrush and deodorant. The car rolled to a stop. Mom touched his hand.

“It’s all right,” she said and then repeated, much softer as if he were a younger child once again, “it’s all right.”

He looked into her eyes for the first time since the car ventured down the long, dirt road.

“You’ve prepared for this,” she said after a pause. “You’re ready. I am so proud of you.”

Austin nodded and hugged her. Then he jumped out of the car. The muggy heat engulfed him. Taking a labored deep breath, he stretched and felt his back pop.

“Welcome to Tizona,” the man called from the porch.

Austin used his hand as a visor in the afternoon sunlight. “Thank you.”

“You must be Austin Stone,” he said, strolling toward the car with his hands in his pockets. “I am Security Chief Javin Sharkey. I’m in charge of the safety and order here at the school.”

Austin shook his hand, felt the vice-like grip. “Nice to meet you, sir.” He turned to Mom, who stepped out of the car. “This is my mom.”

Sharkey nodded. “Ma’am. Welcome to Tizona. Would you both please follow me?”

The man was built like a catcher, on the shorter side with broad, muscular shoulders and forearms thick as slabs of meat. As they stepped onto the porch, Sharkey gestured to two other staff members dressed in the same simple, blue suits. They disappeared behind white doors labeled “Employees Only.”

“This is our main gate office,” Sharkey said, holding the door open. “All traffic entering the Tizona School must pass through this building. We have security checks and metal detectors.”

The marble floor alternated with black and white squares. It shined enough to reflect light. The crown molding twisted and turned in organic shapes. In the center of the room stood a sculpture of a man raising a sword toward the horizon. Water surrounded the sculpture and trickled down the sides.

“It’s like the Parthenon,” Austin whispered.

“We think it’s better.”

He grinned. “Yes, sir.”

“Now, Ms. Stone,” Sharkey pushed open a large white door to the left of the room, “this is where you will wait for your son if you ever come to visit. As you know, no one but faculty, staff, and students are allowed on the campus.”

“Yes, Mr. Nubern explained that to me.”

The room had no windows. Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling. Several dark leather couches and chairs surrounded polished tables. A thick brown rug covered the floor. The tall grandfather clock chimed from the corner, announcing the time was four in the afternoon.

“No windows?” Austin asked.

Sharkey shook his head. “Negative. This room was once utilized as a study hall and still can be, but rarely is. Notice the books and the study areas? Yes, well, parents waiting for their students are often dismayed by the amount of time it takes to summon their children. Instructional time here at Tizona is very time-consuming and intense. We try not to interrupt whenever possible.”

“I see,” Mom said. She slid her fingers across the back of the closest leather chair. “Well, I guess this is it.”

Sharkey lowered his head. “Yes, ma’am. Your son is our last arrival for the semester. Usually there are many other parents saying their farewells, but Recruit Stone here had the honor of being our final selection for the semester. I am at your service to help you bring your personals to the main dormitory when you are ready.”

The security chief left the room, leaving only the sound of the ticking clock.

Austin shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I have to go, Mom.”

She nodded. “I’m going to miss you.”

They embraced.

“Will you email me when you can? Let me know when I can come visit or take you out to Savannah?”

“I will.”

Mom sniffled. “Let’s get your stuff. I don’t want it to be weird for you since you are the last one here.”

Austin thought of the times they’d had to move when he was in elementary school. Dad was transferred every few years, and they always moved at Christmas time. He started school in a new place in January, all of the other students staring at him as they wondered about the latest arrival.

“You know I’m used to being the new kid,” he said with a smile.

She laughed for the first time since the car had turned off the highway onto the road leading to the school. She touched his cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

The dampness of his mother’s tears remained on his neck as the golf cart powered away from the main gate. Sharkey had said nothing as he’d loaded the silver golf cart with Austin’s two bags. Instead, Sharkey’s attention focused on the earpiece, muttering sentences filled with numbers and strange code words into the radio.

Austin leaned back in the seat, ignoring the hot, thick air. The golf cart traveled down the two-path road splitting through vibrant green grass surrounding the main gate. At the edge of the circle, dense vegetation blocked his view. The path wound through a tree canopy.

Minutes passed as the golf cart bounced over the rough path. Austin braced himself by grabbing the bottom of his seat to prevent falling out. He gazed through the trees. After more time passed and he continued to be jostled around the front of the golf cart, Austin snorted.

“How large is this campus?”

Sharkey’s eyes remained fixed on the path. “Several hundred acres. We are almost at the main campus.”

The path veered to the right, and the incline increased. As the cart reached the top of the incline, a wooden bridge wide enough for one cart stretched over murky swamp water. Stumps of trees peppered the water like stepping-stones. A thick green scum covered large portions of the water’s glass-like surface. The trees blocked out the sunlight, and darkness fell over the bridge.

“I didn’t know the campus was in a swamp?”

“It’s not, exactly. You’ll see.”

The bridge rattled as the cart bounced across the uneven surface. It reminded Austin of a train passing over a bridge. Rat tat ta tat ta tat tat. He stared at water so black he wondered if something stared back. Alligators attacked people all the time in the swamps this close to Florida. He remembered reading about kids using a rope swing into the water somewhere in South Georgia and one boy surfaced with one of his hands missing, taken by an alligator.

“Any wildlife in this swamp?”

Sharkey grinned. “Thinking of taking a swim?”

“Yeah,” Austin said.

With one last groan of the wooden planks, the cart bounced into a small puddle at the base of the bridge. Austin leaned forward to brace himself, grabbing the dashboard. Sharkey said nothing. He stepped on the gas as it went up another incline. The trees opened to another grass field. Bright sunlight beamed through the opening like it had been set free, rays of golden light shooting in all directions.

“Not much farther,” Sharkey said.

“Sounds great,” Austin replied through his teeth.

The cart burst into the sunlight. Austin shielded his eyes with his hand. Closely cut green grass stretched for a hundred yards toward the tree line. The dirt path transitioned to white, crushed gravel crackling and popping under the cart’s wheels.

As they passed a four-foot marble statue of a sword, Sharkey cleared his throat. “You are now officially on the main campus.”

Austin nodded. His eyes adjusted to the light. A four-story stone building, decorated with intricate carvings along the trim, towered like a beacon over the rest of the campus. A stone figure with a sword pointed toward the sky stood at the crest of a steeple in the center of the building.

“That tall building you see there is the primary building on campus known as the Terminus Building,” Sharkey said, the tone of his voice transforming into a tour guide. “All pathways on the campus lead to this building. Most of your instruction will take place there, as will other campus events or group study hall. These smaller buildings have various uses as well, some for instruction, others for lab, and a few are for tools to keep the grounds clean.”

The architecture looked like stone structures built in medieval Europe. The Terminus Building was a castle without the moat. The smaller buildings surrounding Terminus were also built from the same gray stone. They passed a flat building with a rock carving of a sword adjacent to the front door.

“Behind the main building around this path, you’ll find the main dormitory,” Sharkey said as the path came to a fork. He brought the cart to the left. “We are heading there now so you can get situated.”

The Terminus Building loomed over the courtyard. The paths encircled the vast patch of uninterrupted grass. At the top of a stone staircase, a guard stood by the door of the main building. Austin gazed at the statue at the top of Terminus, the silhouette clear against the cloudless blue sky. He looked at the windows, the bright sunlight reflecting the green of the grass and the brilliant blue of the sky.