A Whateley Academy 2nd Generation Tale

The Road To Whateley

By

Bek D. Corbin and E. E. Nalley

Part Three

You've got to:

Prime the pump, you must have faith and believe

You've got to:

Give of yourself 'fore you're worthy to receive

Drink all the water you can hold, wash your face, cool your feet

But leave the bottle full for others, thank you kindly, Desert Pete

Kingston Trio, Desert Pete

August 30th, 2016

Rest Area, I65N, Conecuh County, AL

AJ awoke cold and stiff, his mouth a desert, and hurting in places he didn't even know he had places. With a moan he sat up hitching his back against the tree he had awoken curled around. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he looked around to find himself in a thick Arbor of trees and overgrowth that seemed quite remote, though the wind had the murmur of a highway nearby. In one direction the trees thinned and opened onto a sizable parking lot with a pair of small buildings in the distance. It was in this direction that he noticed Nick was watching squatting low on his haunches and leaning against a tree. The ear closest to AJ on the top of Nick's head rotated in his direction, but the big young man didn't move his gaze. "Good morning," he rumbled. "You get any sleep?"

A Second Generation Whateley Academy Story

Reinforce: Don’t Call Me a Pretty

By Joe Gunnarson

September 15th, 2016, Schuster Hall

Adam sighed as he came to Whateley’s admin office.  He remembered it being a lot bigger, before.  Several days late because the MCO decided to detain him for God only knew what reason until his sponsor followed the lowjack beacon his uncle had embedded in his shoulder.  She’d brought a lawyer, and came within an asshair of calling for the DPA to have everyone involved in his incarceration arrested.  She had pressed charges against the MCO agent who had chosen to throw him in lockup on some trumped up bullshit.

The DPA agents had been rather humorless, as apparently there was ample cause for her to cite retaliation against her and her siblings as the reason for the arrest.  The scene had been rather solidly heartwarming.  Unfortunately, she had been on her way out to go help someone “Remember why Whateley neutrality was important.”  Given the look in her eye, he didn’t really want to know, but it had involved two of her sisters teaching the lesson with her.

Tuesday, September 27, 2016, Afternoon
Outside Doyle Medical Center, Whateley Academy

"Are you sure?" The man squatting beside the power chair at the entrance the academy's clinic was worried, and he wasn't afraid of showing that concern, but then again, he and the woman in the power chair were adults, beyond the high-school games of being 'cool' or aloof that the majority of the Whateley campus population seemed to be engaged in, since it was, after all, a boarding high school. He was big and quite muscular; even in his jacket, he was an imposing figure, but at that moment, showing his concern for the woman, he looked quite vulnerable.

The woman in the power chair was a beauty, with flawless complexion and long, wavy, dark hair in a style that would have fit a Hollywood celebrity crowd. She even made a power-chair look graceful and attractive despite her simple sweatpants and sweatshirt. "Yes, Jake," she said firmly, without a trace of doubt in her mind. "I have to try. For you."

A Second Generation Whateley Academy Story

Rises the Sun

By Andrew “MageOhki” Norris
With assistance from Elrodw, Nightelf, JG, and the rest of the Generation 2 crew

Chapter 1: Accretion

A Whateley Academy Tale

Blood-Sister, Blood-Brother

By Joe Gunnarson

Elizabeth Carson looked at the phone number in her hand, chewing on her irritation. She did not want to call, or talk to Johann Richter, ever. She hated the man, and he’d caused her no end of suffering early in her career, irony was having to pull the man and his twin daughters out of their home, for their own safety, nine years ago.

She had only been at Whateley, retired, for a few years when the call came, and she moved the man and his daughters into a witness protection program when he agreed to provide all of the operational information he could on his former wife’s operations.

Now the man was begging for her assistance, again. While she despised Johann, his daughter Janine, AKA “Deimos,” was never likely to be on the list of people she was hostile to. The girl had the unfortunate distinction of being an empathic rager, who was often unable to stand against the hurricane of other peoples’ emotions. She had seemed to be making a recovery when summer vacation had started.