The Academy Defenders Read online

  “ATLAS ACADEMY IS A PLACE FOR FANS OF HARRY POTTER AND X-MEN, DELIVERING ACTION AND EXCITING SUPERPOWERS.”

  - TYLER WHITESIDES,

  AUTHOR OF JANITORS

  “DEFENDERS IS AN ADVENTUROUS TROMP THROUGH SUPERHERO SCHOOL THAT WILL KEEP YOU TURNING PAGES TO THE VERY END. FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELT. THIS IS ONE ‘BUS’ RIDE YOU WON’T WANT TO MISS.”

  - DAVID G. WOOLLEY,

  AUTHOR OF THE PROMISED LAND SERIES

  Published by Rhemalda Publishing

  P.O. Box 1790

  Moses Lake, WA 98837

  http://www.rhemalda.com

  THE ACADEMY DEFENDERS

  Copyright © 2012 T. J. Robinson

  2nd Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Diane Dalton

  Cover and interior art by Tyjens Media

  http://www.tyjensmedia.com/

  ISBN: 978-1-936850-76-1 Paperback

  ISBN: 978-1-936850-47-1 EPUB

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012937723

  Visit author T. J. Robinson at http://www.authortjrobinson.com

  QED stands for Quality, Excellence and Design. The QED seal of approval shown here verifies that this eBook has passed a rigorous quality assurance process and will render well in most eBook reading platforms.

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  IT is not very often in this world that we are given the chance to openly acknowledge those who have helped us in our lives. So thank you, not only to those mentioned below, but also to all the others who helped me along the way. This journey began long before I wrote the first words of The Academy Defenders when as a young child my parents instilled in me a love for reading that has never dimmed. Thank you for that, Mom and Dad. A special thanks to my beta-readers, Jamie, Jan, Mike, Sue, and Chelsea. Your encouraging words made all the difference to an intimidated first-time writer. Thank you to Brad, Whitney, and Katie, my very own writing group whose suggestions and edits made this book infinitely better. You gave far more than I ever imagined. Thanks to Sandra and her fantastic proof-reading. Thanks to Tim and his legal advice. I know who to call if I ever need a lawyer. Thanks to the wild Alaskan Jacob and his amazing artwork. Thanks to Ty for the amazing book trailer. I never imagined it could turn out as cool as it did, and I have no doubt you’re the next “big thing” in the music video business. Thanks to my Rhemalda team, Emmaline, Rhett, Diane, and Melissa. You have been an absolute delight to work with and I look forward to a wonderful road together. And finally, thanks to each of you, the readers. The opportunity to have others read my words is incredibly humbling, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope that each of you enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

  DEDICATION

  To Molls, the best wife ever.

  And to Ya-ya, Bugs, and MoJo,

  For begging to hear new

  Lincoln and Skylar stories

  Every night.

  Contents

  Atlas Academy & Kodiak Island

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  About the Author

  THE ACADEMY

  DEFENDERS

  BY T. J. ROBINSON

  RHEMALDA PUBLISHING

  CHAPTER 1

  TRAGEDY STRIKES

  “LINCOLN THOMAS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE principal’s office immediately.”

  The loudspeaker at Lakeside Middle School in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, crackled as the announcement ended. Lincoln looked up to see Mr. Lewis, his overweight seventh-grade English teacher, give him an angry glare and wave him out the door.

  Lincoln slowly rose from his desk, exited the classroom—making sure to do so as loudly as possible just to annoy Mr. Lewis—and strolled down the hallway toward the principal’s office. He already knew why he was being called in to see the principal, and it wasn’t for anything good. No, there was only one reason why the principal would want to see Lincoln less than two weeks after the school year began. Someone must have tattled about the “incident” on the bus before school that morning.

  Truthfully, it was more than just an incident. It was a fight. Or rather, it was a single punch thrown by Lincoln after Jeff and Jared Hastings tied his shoelaces together, causing him to trip as he tried to exit the bus. Lincoln had fixed his shoelaces, picked himself up off the ground, turned around to see the two boys laughing, and popped Jeff right in his oversized, slightly crooked nose. A fountain of blood had instantly appeared, staining Jeff’s shirt and causing a petite sixth-grade girl to faint.

  As soon as he had done it, Lincoln wished he could take it back. He raced away from the bus before anyone could stop him, but he knew trouble was coming. No one messed with the Hastings brothers. They ruled Lakeside Middle School. They would get their revenge as soon as they had the chance. They had teased Lincoln before, and every other time he had done what everybody else did—turn and walk away. But today he couldn’t do that, because today was August 28th, the worst day of the year.

  August 28th used to be like any other day, but that had all changed when Lincoln was six. Back then, his mom and dad worked for the Secret Service as agents protecting the President and his family. They had both been away on assignment that weekend. A babysitter was tending Lincoln and his brother Noah. It was late Friday night, and the three of them were sound asleep when some loose wiring down in the basement caught fire. The fire quickly spread to the rest of the house as the three of them slept. Luckily for Lincoln, their next-door neighbor happened to be awake and saw the fire through his bedroom window. He raced to their house, broke down the front door, charged upstairs, and hauled Lincoln outside.

  The neighbor sat Lincoln on the lawn and immediately sprinted back inside the house. Even now, six years later, Lincoln could still remember watching his neighbor disappear and then hearing the explosion as the fire found the gas line. Miraculously, the neighbor was thrown back out the front door and survived. Noah and the babysitter did not. Ever since then, Lincoln had hated August 28th, and that was why he punched Jeff Hastings.

  But how could he explain this to the principal? He would have to tell her the entire story, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about what had happened. So instead, he decided to tell her nothing. The principal was Miss Henshaw, and she was new to the school, having recently replaced the awful Mr. Thornwood. With her short blonde hair and disarming smile, Lincoln thought she looked much too young and much too nice for a principal.

  “Lincoln Thomas,” she began as he sat down in her office, “I believe this is the first time we’ve spoken.” Lincoln nodded, determined to say as little as possible. “Do you know why you’re here?” Again, Lincoln nodded.

  “I have to ad
mit, I’m puzzled by what supposedly happened this morning. You’ve never been in any trouble before, so tell me, why now?” Lincoln just shrugged his shoulders. The smile faded from the principal’s face as she looked him over.

  Lincoln looked like your normal, everyday twelve-year-old of the twenty-first century. He was perfectly average, not too tall, not too short, not too fat, and not too skinny. He had shaggy, sandy-blond hair covering the tops of his ears and wore a T-shirt and jeans. His face was thin, and when he smiled, which didn’t happen as often as it should, a pair of dimples pierced his cheeks. He was the type of kid who could easily go unnoticed by his peers, and that was the way he liked it. His only semi-remarkable feature was the color of his eyes. They were two colors, a dark shade of blue with small circles of grey surrounding his pupils.

  Miss Henshaw picked up the manila folder from her desk, opened it, and began to read. “Let’s see, your parents are Ryan and Olivia Thomas. That’s interesting ....”

  “What’s interesting?” Lincoln cringed as he realized he had broken his vow of silence.

  Miss Henshaw smiled. “Your parents were both Secret Service agents. I’ll bet you have lots of neat stories from when you were little. Why did they leave the service?”

  Lincoln didn’t answer. His parents had rushed home as soon as they heard about the fire. They quit the service the next day. A month later, they had moved here to North Carolina for a fresh start and his dad had started his own consulting business. But Miss Henshaw didn’t need to know any of this. Couldn’t she just give him his detention and leave him alone?

  Miss Henshaw returned to reading the file. As she read, the smile slowly vanished from her face, replaced by a look of sympathy. She must have found the answer, Lincoln thought as he prepared himself for the questions about Noah.

  Miss Henshaw leaned forward. “Given the circumstances, Lincoln, I’m going to let you off with only a warning.” Lincoln nodded gratefully. He couldn’t believe it. Not only had she let him off, she hadn’t even asked the dreaded questions. Clearly, Miss Henshaw was nothing like Mr. Thornwood. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got some time before your next class. Why don’t you tell me about your experiences here at Lakeside?”

  The conversation started slowly, but eventually Lincoln opened up about the school and the subjects he enjoyed. Soon they were both laughing hysterically about the time Mr. Weiss, the physics teacher, demonstrated the law of gravity by climbing up a tree and dropping objects to the ground. After he finished his demonstration, Mr. Weiss realized he had no idea how to climb down. It took three hours and two firemen to finally pry him from the branch he clung to.

  Their conversation was interrupted as a young receptionist burst through the office door. “Sorry to interrupt you, Miss Henshaw, but we have a family emergency with one of our students.”

  “That’s fine, we were just finishing. What’s happened?” asked Miss Henshaw.

  “I’m not sure,” the receptionist continued, speaking a hundred miles an hour. “But the student needs to be taken home immediately.”

  “Okay,” said Miss Henshaw slowly, trying to calm the frantic woman. “Who’s the student?”

  “It’s ...,” the receptionist paused and looked down at the clipboard, “Lincoln Thomas.”

  Miss Henshaw looked at Lincoln, who looked at the receptionist. The receptionist’s eyes widened as she connected the dots. “Oh my,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Thank you, Stacey,” Miss Henshaw said. “Lincoln, how do you normally get to and from school?”

  “The bus.”

  Miss Henshaw stood, grabbed her purse, and pulled out a set of keys. “That’s okay, I’ll take you home.”

  Lincoln followed Miss Henshaw to her car, much too stunned to say anything. What could have happened? Once again, the lightning that was August 28th had struck his family. The drive was quiet as Lincoln imagined crisis after crisis.

  “Oh no,” Lincoln gasped as they pulled up to his house.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Miss Henshaw.

  “That’s a government car,” Lincoln answered, pointing at the dark blue sedan parked in his driveway. “I remember them from when I was little.”

  Before Miss Henshaw could even stop the car, Lincoln ripped open the passenger door and jumped out, ignoring her cry of, “Be careful!”

  He raced through the yard, up the steps, and through the front door. He burst into the front room to find his mom sitting with two men in white shirts and dark suits. Lincoln could tell they worked for the government as soon as he laid eyes on them. They were both extremely fit with matching short haircuts. One had a nasty-looking scar above his left eye and was several years older than his partner. He gave Lincoln a suspicious glare as he entered the room.

  Lincoln’s mom looked at him. She held a damp handkerchief and he could see she had been crying. “Link, it’s your grandfather. He passed away this morning.”

  Lincoln collapsed onto the loveseat next to her. Grandpa Thomas was the only grandpa Lincoln had ever known. He had never met his mom’s parents, who had both died before he was born. Grandpa Thomas was more than just a grandpa. He was like a second father. Lincoln’s dad had changed after Noah died. For the first year following Noah’s death he had never smiled, and even now he still seemed too busy with work to spend time with Lincoln, so Lincoln spent at least one month every summer with Grandpa and Grandma Thomas at their home in Wisconsin. Grandpa couldn’t have died.

  “What happened?” Lincoln asked. Grandpa had spent his life working for the government, though he worked for the Education Department instead of the Secret Service. In fact, he had been away from his home on business ever since Lincoln left there six weeks ago.

  “We’re still gathering details,” the younger agent began nervously, “but it appears he had a heart attack while swimming in the hotel pool.”

  “Huh?” asked Lincoln, confused. “Grandpa never swims. He always says he’s too old.”

  “No kidding,” the younger agent stated. “According to his medical records, your grandfather was nearly ninety.”

  A look of shock crossed Lincoln’s face. “No way,” he said adamantly. “He’s not even seventy. My dad’s only forty. The records must be screwed up.”

  His mom flashed Lincoln a look of warning before turning toward the men and saying, “I’m sure everything will get straightened out soon enough. Now, do you mind telling me what agency you work for?”

  “FBI, ma’am,” the younger agent said. “Since Mr. Thomas worked for the government, the CIA will be in charge of the investigation into his death. We’re here as a favor to them since all their agents are tied up. They asked us to verify this was an NCD.”

  “NCD?” asked Lincoln.

  “Natural Caused Death,” his mom answered.

  The older agent cleared his throat. Apparently, he had decided it was time to take charge. “Had Mr. Thomas been here to visit recently? Or maybe sent something to you or your husband for safekeeping?”

  “No,” answered Lincoln’s mom cautiously, “and I’m not sure how that’s relevant.”

  The older agent smiled, “Just trying to help out, ma’am. Is there anything else you can tell us?” Lincoln’s mom shook her head. The older agent stood, and the younger agent quickly followed, though he gave his partner a look as though surprised the interview had already ended. “Well, we better be on our way. Mrs. Thomas, again, I am truly sorry for your loss. Give your husband our condolences. The CIA should be in touch very soon.”

  Lincoln’s mom escorted the two men out. As soon as they left, she hurried to Lincoln’s side, embracing him. “I’m so sorry, Lincoln.” They sat like that for the next several minutes, silently crying as they grieved together.

  “Does Dad know?” Lincoln couldn’t help but feel a little angry that his dad, who was away on business yet again, wasn’t home right now when they needed him.

  His mom nodded. “He’s flying home tomorrow.” She wiped he
r eyes one final time and then turned to Lincoln. “Before he gets here, there is something about our family you need to know. Your grandfather’s life was very different from the one you saw.”

  She rose from the couch and walked over to the bookcase. Intrigued, Lincoln watched as she began to pull books off the top shelf one at a time.

  “Mom, what are you doing?” he asked.

  “You’ll see.” She pulled one more book off the shelf and turned to Lincoln. For a moment nothing happened.

  “Okay, Mom, why don’t you—” Lincoln stopped mid-sentence as the bookcase suddenly slid sideways, disappearing behind the wall next to it. The bookcase gone, Lincoln found himself staring into a dark stairway leading downward.

  “Lincoln, it is time for you to know the truth.”

  Lincoln followed his mom down the stairs and through a passageway as it twisted and turned several times before finally ending at a black door. His mom pulled what looked like a black Rubik’s Cube from her pocket and placed it above the door knob. Lincoln heard a soft, metallic click, and then watched in amazement as the door swung open.

  Lincoln couldn’t believe his eyes. He was peering into a giant library. Bookshelves full of ancient texts lined each wall. In the middle of the room sat a large, wooden desk with a lamp and computer on top. Lincoln walked into the room and approached the bookshelves, reading a few of the titles as he neared. The Atlas Academy, The Guardian Council, The Time Rite, and several more, none of which he recognized.

  “What is the Atlas Academy?” Lincoln asked.

  His mom smiled. “It’s where your grandpa worked and where I met your father.”

  “You always told me you met on a blind date in college.”

  His mom raised her eyebrows. “Lincoln, you have lived here for six years and knew nothing about this room. I think it’s safe to say there are things about our family you never knew. Would you like me to continue?”

  He nodded. “Sorry, I’ll shut up and listen.”