The Underground League: Year One

By Donna Hockey

Something is very wrong in Boston, Massachusetts. Too many teenagers are getting into freak accidents and too many are dying. Even more perplexing are the numbers of young people who should have died, but didn’t.

Siblings Angie and Ashton Marche are two of the lucky ones who survive a horrific car accident without a mark on them. Their mother insists that their bodies were crushed and can’t explain their quick recovery. They are just relieved to return to their uneventful lives, but they soon find that nothing about their lives is the same. They have alarming new powers—and appetites—that neither can explain.

Angie embarks on a quest to find out the truth about what is really happening, a journey that will lead her from a Boston hospital with some very unorthodox methods, to a shadowy secret society at Harvard, to the back alleys of New Orleans and an age-old curse. Along the way she meets a cast of characters who terrify and inspire her, who can create and destroy society, and are organizing something that will forever alter the country. As if this weren’t enough to deal with, she is torn between a stranger with a questionable agenda that she can have no future with and a guy who seems perfect.

If Angie and Ashton are to survive the year they will need to find out what they have become and how to protect themselves from those who want them dead. All they know for sure is that the number of teenagers having accidents is increasing...and those who survive don't always come back the way they were supposed to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donna Hockey
• Release date: Jan 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310657337

Donna Hockey

Donna Hockey is an author currently residing in the San Francisco Bay area with her husband and two children. She writes a blog called The Moveable Writer. She also works in education. She has a B.S. in Psychology from ASU and a Masters degree in Public Policy from Harvard. Her longterm goal is to surf at age 80.

Book preview

The Underground League

By Donna Hockey

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition

Text Copyright © 2013 Donna Hockey

All Rights Reserved

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Acknowledgements

For my loving husband Tammer for continually believing in me and to Lily and Aiden who are my heart and joy - always for them.

A special thank you to Linda Kugler for lending her unique perspective to this project – and for the laughter. Thank you to first readers Jim Giannakakis and Kerri Mitchell.

Cover design by Ronnell D. Porter

Change is the law of life. John F. Kennedy

"We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to

accept the one that is waiting for us."

E.M. Forster

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – The Unthinkable

Chapter 2 – The Awakening

Chapter 3 – New Dawn

Chapter 4 – The Light

Chapter 5 – Camp’s Survivors

Chapter 6 – Assimilation

Chapter 7 – Nawlin’s Tales

Chapter 8 – A Loose Canon

Chapter 9 – Economic Lessons

Chapter 10 – Attract and Repel

Chapter 11 – Yo Batter, Yo Batter

Chapter 12 – Another Day, Another Tragedy

Chapter 13 – Party in New Orleans

Chapter 14 – Haunts and Haints

Chapter 15 – Fourth’s Fireworks

Chapter 16 – What Comes Next

Chapter 1

The Unthinkable

1

Angelina Marche pressed her hand against the cool thick glass and gaped at Anthony Delano through streams of water. He was standing under the moody Cambridge sky just outside of the Andala Café where her friends were ordering hummus, warm pita, and steamy chicken shawarma sandwiches for lunch. She watched the rain kiss him and force him to squint with his deep brown eyes. Two girls ran in front of him under a magenta umbrella and he smiled with an ease that she couldn’t comprehend. He walked across the street, indifferent to the water soaking through his clothes, and weaved around the parked car where Angie sat in the back seat with her brother.

You know, you’re not invisible. You might want to stop drooling like an eager puppy. Ashton tapped his sister on the shoulder.

I’m invisible to him. Angie sighed. She couldn’t look away just in case Anthony glanced in her direction. Thunder sounded in the distance as the rain started to pelt the top of the car, a drum matching the beat of Angie’s charging heart.

Have you tried talking to him? Ashton kidded.

Angie laughed. I’ve tried a lot more than that. Do you remember when we all had the flu? Mom rented those eighties movies and we laughed at the sappy things the kids did to get attention?

Ashton started to laugh with her. Yeah?

"I did all of those things. I sat on top of a car in front of the school with a candle lit birthday cake on Anthony’s birthday just like Jake in Sixteen Candles and he walked right by me. I held up dad’s old boom box, like in Say Anything, playing Anthony’s baseball song outside of Starbucks as he was leaving with his coffee and he didn’t even notice me. I won’t even tell you the last one."

Ashton tried to catch his breath. Did you call his name or did you just expect him to walk over to you and ask you out?

Stop laughing! She backhanded his arm playfully.

Tell me the last thing. I gotta know. He howled as tears poured from his eyes.

Before she could tell him, their eardrums were assaulted with a voluminous crack that burst the glass around them. In that last second, eyes wide, they stopped laughing.

2

Firemen worked silently, methodically, bending the metal with care. They grunted softly as the crowd, held back by barricades, leaned forward despite the now heavy rain that pricked their faces like shrapnel. The tragedy took precedent over their comfort and their responsibilities. As traffic froze, a backlog of cars lengthened the evening commute for a hundred people just because they were curious. They wanted to know how serious the accident was and to imagine the lives that had been affected by it. The result was a soft appreciation for life that fell like a quick fickle snow only to melt by the next morning.

Angie and Ashton’s parents huddled on the corner of River and Franklin Streets clutching at each other. Beverly and Alex were as close to the scene as the police would allow. They talked quietly with Olivia and Todd who were Angie’s and Ashton’s best friends, also siblings, and the owners of the wrecked car, until a police officer informed them that the kids were being taken to Beth Israel Hospital in Boston instead of Mount Auburn Hospital in Cambridge, which was ten miles closer. Quickly the officer explained to them, before they could question him, that it was the best hospital for this type of trauma in the area. He seemed to have a little speech prepared in advance.

As the officer urged them to leave for the hospital, the firemen completed their last cut and lifted the mangled roof. Sections of wood from the telephone pole that crushed the car were stacked neatly on the sidewalk. The firemen looked down into the backseat and shook their heads. Some of the men turned away. One of them gasped before paramedics swooped in. They placed the kids’ limp bodies on backboards and fastened their necks into extrication collars.

Beverly ran into the cop’s outstretched arms and, after a pause, he let her go through the barricade to her son and daughter. Beverly gasped when she saw them. Angie’s face was swollen, livid from bruising, her left shoulder hung loosely by her ribs, and her legs were flattened. Ashton’s spine wound unnaturally as if he were squirming in his seat. His face was lumpy. She stumbled back into Alex’s arms and they let others move them away from the scene.

Once the kids were safely on the ambulance, Beverly and Alex rushed to the hospital, hoping to get there at the same time. Olivia and Todd were in the backseat.

I remember when Angie was two and Ashton was three. Beverly told them. They would sit in the playroom together. There were so many toys in that room, but they would just look at each other, start giggling, and play some game I couldn’t even understand. They were so cute. Their tiny faces... Beverly’s voice trailed off.

It’s going to be okay. Alex assured them all. He had known Olivia and Todd their entire lives. The four kids had been friends since kindergarten. They were all so young; Angie and Olivia would be juniors at Cambridge Preparatory School in the fall. Ashton and Todd would be seniors.

After several wrong turns they reached the hospital. Angie and Ashton were already behind the moss colored doors and all anyone could do was wait.

3

Angie was in between waking and the deep groggy state that so often confuses the mind into thinking that the inanimate can be animated and that the darkness is filled with light. She felt like she was floating in water inside a remote cave with her body slowly bobbing and heaving. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming the shadows that filled the cavernous hollow above her or if this was a real experience. Faint sounds reverberated in the distance. Somewhere ahead a rhythmic drummer kept a soft beat while grave voices trembled and fell before becoming thrilled and frenzied.

The air was muggy and plump with a pungent aroma of roses mixed with patchouli and something else she couldn’t recognize. She felt cool lumps of weighted wetness being placed on her body, taken away, and replaced again. This strangely comforting sensation made her shiver periodically until suddenly warmth crawled from her toes upward and worked its way up her body. It heated her so completely that she felt as if she were being dipped into soup. Short stretches of silence wove in between throbs of chanting and drumming. Next she felt a jolt and heard emphatic voices arguing. They seemed to get closer and for the first time she was able to open her eyes.

A man in his fifties with a grey goatee and bright hazel eyes held his hand up to a younger man. Both men wore white jackets.

How do you think their parents feel now after I told them their kids had little to absolutely no chance of lasting through the night and you swooped in ten minutes later and said the kids will be fine? Don’t you think that’s suspicious? These are my patients, MacAvoy. The younger doctor was saying.

They are in my domain. You can’t mess with Society business. MacAvoy said.

Society business has nothing to do with me. The younger doctor huffed.

It affects everyone, Josh. Or, would you rather just let them die? MacAvoy said with his head held high.

If all medical measures fail, yes. He yelled.

When MacAvoy noticed Angie watching them, he forcefully pushed the young doctor out of the room. Then Angie’s eyes were pricked by light. As soon as she shut them she lost track of time again.

The next brief thing she heard was the tinkling sound of her mother crying. It was joined by her father’s sobs and she knew that something was horribly wrong. She had never heard her father cry. Not even when his brother, much younger than her dad and only seventeen at the time, had died in a freak boating accident ten years before.

What is in these bags? Feathers, twigs, tea? Angie heard her father ask.

Angie felt heaviness and moistness over her torso and legs. In some places sharp points poked at her flesh, which now felt raw. She never imagined that bags were the cause. She tried to open her eyes and move her arms, but she couldn’t. She struggled to lift her fingers, to shift her legs, and rouse her vocal chords. Nothing. It was a dream, she thought. It had to be.

Their faces are so pale, except for their pink cheeks. It’s like when they napped when they were babies. It always seemed like they were wearing blush. They’re laying so still, Alex. It doesn’t even look like they’re breathing. She sobbed.

MacAvoy said they’d be fine. He reminded her.

That’s after the first doctor said they were going to die. She said crying harder now.

He was confused. Doctors work long hours in the hospital. They get confused sometimes. Alex said unconvincingly. Angie could picture his eyebrows rising as he made his point.

Angie tried hard to wake up. She wanted to know who her parents were talking about.

Let’s let them rest. Alex said. She heard the door close and then there was just silence and fear. She thought that maybe she wasn’t dreaming, not in the sense that she was used to. She thought that maybe she was dead.

4

Angie stretched before she opened her eyes like she had done every morning since she was born. Dr. MacAvoy’s penlight was shining at her again, but she stayed awake this time. Behind MacAvoy, a nurse leaned forward smiling with large brilliant teeth.

Welcome back. The man said. I’m Dr. MacAvoy.

Where am I? Angie asked. She heard rustling from across the room.

Ashton was trying to sit up in his bed. Angie?

She grinned when she saw her brother. She wasn’t alone.

The doctor looked up. You were both in an accident. Do you remember anything about last night or yesterday?

No. Angie said. She couldn’t remember anything about that entire week.

I remember leaving the house and Mom and Dad reminding us about brunch in the morning. Are Mom and Dad okay? Ashton said.

Yes. They weren’t with you. There was a storm and a telephone pole fell on top of the car you were sitting in. Your friends weren’t in the car when it happened. It’s normal not to remember a traumatic event like this. He smiled kindly. In time, those memories may come back. MacAvoy eyed them closely as if they were a new species he’d personally discovered.

Do you have pain? He asked while bending Angie’s knee. He put it down gently and then lifted her hand, giving it a small twist in each direction.

She shook her head no. She didn’t feel any pain. Were there some sort of bags on our bodies?

MacAvoy stopped as he was examining her arm and folding her elbow. He raised an eyebrow. We did use some cold compresses to reduce swelling.

With herbs and stuff in them? She asked.

Yes. Many herbs have been found to have medicinal properties.

I didn’t think doctors used that stuff in real hospitals. Ashton said.

What’s wrong with us? Angie asked. I heard my parents crying.

Ashton sat up. His tall frame stretched in her direction. Even dad?

Angie nodded, then looked back at MacAvoy.

You’ll be fine. He shrugged slightly. At first we thought that you might have internal injuries, but after we had a chance to examine you both further, we found that your injuries were not as severe as we initially presumed. It happens all of the time. MacAvoy smiled again, but looked intently at them.

So we can just go back to our lives? No physical therapy? No pain meds? Ashton asked.

There may be some changes. MacAvoy got up and closed the door. His fancy shoes made light tapping sounds as he crossed the floor. When he sat down again he spoke quietly. When people experience traumatic events such as these and recover as quickly as you both have, they tend to notice differences in their perception of the world, both on a cognitive and a physical level. You may feel different in your body for instance. Or, you may feel things in a different way emotionally, see things in a different light, or experience things, you know, in other ways. You may like things that you didn’t used to like and dislike things that you really liked before. Your personalities could shift a bit. You may not find the same things funny. That sort of thing.

Angie didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, but she nodded to signify that she heard him. Good different or bad different?

MacAvoy chuckled. Good question. He said. He looked pleased that she asked it as if everything until that point were a test. He was about to answer when their parents hurried in and changed the atmosphere from reserved to dramatic.

Beverly and Alex ran their hands over their children, scrutinizing them like monkeys looking for bugs in fur.

Are you in much pain? Beverly asked.

A little stiff. Ashton said.

No pain really. Angie said, still a bit groggy. She tried to sit up higher.

You guys must be taking a lot of pain medications. Alex said. He pushed the button on the oversized control to raise the back of the bed for his daughter.

No pain meds are needed. They may feel a little stiff throughout the week. They can do some stretching for that. Of course, they should take it easy. Get used to moving around in a new way. They may have an upset stomach. MacAvoy rattled on.

Alex cut him off. If they are fine, why would they need to get used to moving around? They were only hospitalized overnight. I don’t understand.

Sure. MacAvoy said easily. It’s the nature of the trauma. They were trapped in a car, rushed to the hospital, and underwent a slew of tests and therapeutic measures. There is a psychological aspect to getting back on one’s feet, so to speak, after being in an accident like that.

Beverly was staring at Angie and Ashton. Your skin is flawless, just luminescent, both of you. I expected you to be, I don’t know, sickly looking. Are you hungry? You must be. I can get you something from the cafeteria.

Before Angie or Ashton could answer MacAvoy leaned forward and raised his brows. They had a lot of fluids. They probably won’t be hungry for quite awhile.

Could we get some time with our children? Alex asked. Angie sensed that he disliked MacAvoy, but it was uncharacteristic of her father to dislike anyone.

Of course. MacAvoy rose. They are free to go right before dinner is handed out tonight. So, around 4:00 this afternoon.

Chapter 2

The Awakening

1

Breakfast is ready. Beverly called from downstairs.

Angie stretched and opened her eyes. She felt refreshed even though she hadn’t slept even one solid hour the night before. It was good to be back in her own room whose walls she had decorated herself with concert posters of her favorite bands and small mosaic murals of cities she longed to travel to in India, China and Africa. She blinked and refocused. Something was different. The lighting maybe? Everything looked more vivid. Kaleidoscopic colors seemed to dance off the walls and blend into the sunlight that flowed through the window like glitter. Shadows were deeper with darkened hues of midnight blue and magenta. Maybe it was just her brain quivering from the accident, she thought, and got up carefully to wash her face. She didn’t want to jostle it any further.

When she came out of the bathroom, Ashton was laying on her bed with his head propped up by his hand and a wide grin smeared on his face.

"School starts tomorrow. Are you