Nightmare Academy

234 Pages·2003·2.32 MB·English

by  Peretti Frank

Nightmare Academy
The Veritas Project [2]
Frank Peretti
Thomas Nelson (2003)
Rating: ☆
★★★★
Tags: Social Issues, Christian mystery fiction, Christian, Brothers and sisters,
Christian teenagers, Twin detectives, Juvenile Fiction, Christian Life,
Mysteries Detective Stories, General, Runaways, Religion, Mystery
fiction, Schools, Emotions Feelings, Fiction, Religious
Social Issuesttt Christian mystery fictionttt Christianttt Brothers and
sistersttt Christian teenagersttt Twin detectivesttt Juvenile Fictionttt
Christian Lifettt Mysteries Detective Storiesttt Generalttt Runawaysttt
Religionttt Mystery fictionttt Schoolsttt Emotions Feelingsttt Fictionttt
Religiousttt
Product Description
With more than 9 million novels in print, Frank Peretti has been called America's
hottest Christian novelist. Peretti's The Veritas Project has become one of the
biggest selling fiction series ever written for teens. Finally, the hugely popular
Nightmare Academy is being released in a brandnew paperback edition. As a
follow-up to Hangman's Curse (now a major motion picture), Nightmare
Academy is a frightening thrill-ride that takes a realistic look at right and wrong,
as Elijah and Elisha seek to find the truth behind the mysterious disappearance
of two runaways. The Springfield twins go undercover and end-up in a strange
academy where Truth is continually challenged, a gang-like war develops, and
Elijah is taken to an ominous mansion from which no one has ever returned.
This book has been the #1 bestseller on the CBA bestseller list for six months
running, with over 350,000 copies of the Veritas series sold to date.

Frank Peretti
NASHVILLE DALLAS MEXICO CITY RIO DE JANEIRO BEIJING
O 2002 Frank Peretti All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be
O 2002 Frank Peretti All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be
reproduced in any form without the written permission of the publisher, with the
exception of brief excerpts in reviews. Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by
Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson,
Inc. Thomas Nelson, Inc., titles may be purchased in bulk for educational,
business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail
[email protected]. Unless otherwise noted, Scripture
quotations used in this book are from the King James Version of the Bible (tgv).
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Peretti, Frank E. Nightmare
Academy / Frank Peretti. p. cm. - (The Veritas Project ; v 2) Summary: Elijah
and his sister Elisha go undercover to investigate a mysterious school that is
sheltering runaway teenagers for a sinister purpose. ISBN 0-8499-7617-0 ISBN
1-4003-0340-0 (Trade Paper) ISBN 978-1-59554-446-9 (repackage) [ 1.
Schools-Fiction. 2. Runaways-Fiction. 3. Christian life-Fiction. 4. Mystery and
detective stories.] I. Title. II. Series. PZ7.P4254 Ni 2002 [Fic]-dc21 2002070060
Printed in the United States of America 08 09 10 11 12 QW 54321
To Barbara jean, my love, as we continue our wondrous journey together.
Chapter 1: The Kid in the Padded
Room
is mind told him, insisted, that he was running, putting one tattered,
bleeding foot in front of the other-even though the ground did not move under
his feet, turned when he did not, or inclined steeply upward though he saw no
slope before him. He closed his eyes, but he could still see. He screamed, but he
heard nothing. The pathway became a precipice and he tumbled headlong,
falling through space. He was under water. He tried to swim; suddenly his
groping arms were pulling him forward through hot, dry sand. The sky above
was red like a sunset, the earth below an eye-buzzing purple-then green, then
gray, then red as the sky turned green.
Where he was, or why, or when, or who, or how, he could not know, could
never know.
There were no days, no hours, no moments, no way of knowing, no chance for
knowing how long he'd been here.
Been where?
No place, at no particular time.
He was once a fifteen-year-old boy, cocky and wayward. He once had a
brother, a sister, a father and mother. He had a name, a house, a school, and a
life-and he thought he knew something. Maybe he thought he knew it all.
But that boy, and that time, and that life had become ... nothing. Nonthings.
There was no fifteen-year-old boy here. No knowledge, no thought, no reason.
There was nothing here but terror, endlessly repeating cycles of it, layer upon
layer of it-with more, more, more to come, in swirling, kaleidoscoping sounds,
images, and sensations, pulsing, pounding, surging, throbbing like a swollen
thumb.
The only reality.
He stopped, fell against a gnarled old tree....
The tree toppled unnaturally, crumpling like a wad of paper, without sound.
He fell....
And hit the ground. Cold ground. Grass. Stones. They didn't move, didn't
change. The earth was motionless under his body, the dew of the night cold and
soaking through.
The tree he thought he would lean on, that had fallen ... was a metal door, now
slowly closing behind him, creaking on its hinges.
Without a thought, he was on his feet, running away. He could see nothing in
the dark, was not aware of the branches and limbs striking against him, was not
aware of the aching in his chest, the pounding of his heart, the gasping for air.
He just ran.
Nelson Farmer was tall, with a long horse face and a worried look that just
stayed there, even when he wasn't worried. Right now he was worried, making
his face sag to new depths of sourness.
"Harborview," said the taxi driver, pulling up in front of an immense hospital
in Seattle.
Harborview Hospital, part of the Seattle skyline for generations, was known
as the place to send the really tough cases. Victims of accidents could be helped
in any good hospital; victims of horrible accidents were sent here, as were the
burn victims, abuse victims, disaster victims, and ...
Farmer didn't have a label for the victim he was hoping to find here. He might
have a name, but at this point he couldn't be sure. He would know in the next
few minutes.
Dr. Cal Madison, white-haired, balding, and soft-spoken, met him in
Observation and Evaluation. "Thank you for coming, Mr...." He looked once
again at Farmer's business card. "Farmer. My! From the D.C. office! You've
come a long way"
"Not really," said Farmer. "I was out on the West Coast on business anyway. I
just made a little side trip."
Madison moved through the front office and into a narrow hallway. Farmer
followed.
"I expected the Bureau would just send a local person," Madison commented.
"This could be a special case," Farmer replied. "The local office may not have
the records on this one yet."
"Hmm." Madison had to think about that one. "Anyway, I'm not sure what
information you have at this point...."
"He was found on the highway, somewhere in Idaho?"
"North Central Idaho, I think. A very mountainous region, not much
civilization to speak of."
They entered a darkened room with one large window The window, of two-
way glass, opened on another room. That room was roughly ten feet square,
softly lit, and the walls and floor were covered with thick, quilted padding.
Against the far wall was a very simple, low-built cot, also heavily padded; in the
center of the room, curled up on the floor like a cowering animal, was a boy. He
was clothed in hospital pajamas and lay motionless except for a trembling,
involuntary curling and uncurling of his fingers. His eyes stared at the floor,
unwavering, unblinking.
Dr. Madison explained, "We judge him to be about fifteen years old. We've
had to dress him because he can't dress himself. He wasn't carrying any ID, so
we have no idea who he is."
"And I suppose he can't tell you?"
"You need to see this," Madison said, slipping out the door. He closed the
door behind him, leaving Farmer in the darkened room. A moment later the door
to the padded room opened, and Madison stepped inside. He knelt beside the boy
and asked him, "How are you doing?"
"I don't know," the boy replied in a low monotone.
"Do you need anything?"
"I don't know."
Madison looked toward the two-way glass as he asked the boy, "Can you tell
me your name?"
"I don't know."
Farmer could hear everything through a small intercom speaker beside the
window. As Madison asked the boy a few more questions and the boy replied "I
don't know" to every one, Farmer pulled a file folder from his briefcase and
opened it. The first page included a photograph of a young man.
The very same young man.
Farmer held the photograph at eye level, letting his gaze shift from it to the
face he saw through the glass. There was no doubt.
He closed the folder, put it back in his briefcase, and snapped the briefcase
shut.
When Madison returned, Farmer shook his head, looking impressed. "Very
disturbing."
"It's as if his whole mind has been erased," said Madison, still marveling. "All
knowledge, all logic ... gone."
Farmer nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad you called. I'll arrange to have him
transferred immediately"
Madison appeared puzzled. "Excuse me?"
"The best way for us to identify this young man and return him to his parents-
if there are any-is to put him under protective custody so we can make a positive
identification."
"I'm not familiar with this procedure."
"We don't use it very often, only in special cases such as this one. It'll take me
a little while to arrange for a car and for a suitable room-"