A VR ACADEMY NOVEL

KIARA KOLE

AND THE

KEY OF TRUTH

1

CHAPTER 1 SAMPLE

Copyright © 2021 Daniel Luke Kuhnley, Marsha Kuhnley

Edited & Published by Drezhn Publishing LLC

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

CHAPTER ONE

AT WORLD’S END

BEADS OF SWEAT SATURATE every square inch of my skin as I lean against the trunk of my favorite oak tree with my legs sprawled out in front of me. The shade offered up by Old Hank—that’s the name I gave the tree, given its gray, wrinkled bark—provides little refuge on a July afternoon like this one. Thinking back on it, this summer’s been hotter than any other I remember.

Dust cakes and clings to my sweaty legs through the network of holes in my denim jeans. The holes remind me of swiss cheese. Mom’s always looking to throw these jeans out at every wash, but I’ve finally got them broken in just the way I like. She just doesn’t get it, but Grams does. Grams, my Dad’s mom, is just about the only person in the world who truly understands me. Well, her and my best friend, Robin.

Plumes of radiation rise from the ground and radiate off Betsy, Dad’s old ‘78 Chevy pickup. From the looks of it, I bet I could fry an egg on Betsy’s hood in under a minute. The challenge tempts me, but it’s not worth getting in trouble over.

Sparkles, my pet pig, lies next to me, her potbelly exposed to the world. Nothing I do keeps her yellow sun dress from rolling up into her little armpits, but she doesn’t seem to care. Mom insists that pigs don’t need clothing, but she doesn’t know Sparkles the way I do. No one does. I’d swear in front of a judge that Sparkles smiles every time she sees herself in the floor-length mirror attached to the back of my bedroom door. It’s proof enough for me that she’s a princess.

“My princess.” Her coarse, black hair sticks to my damp fingertips when I rub her, and she fires off several low grunts. It’s her way of saying she loves me. “Maybe I should’ve named you Miss Piggy.”

Sparkles looks up at me, cocks her head, and lets loose a stream of grunts interspersed with some squeals. These are the moments I’d give anything to be like Dr. Dolittle, even if it was only to understand Sparkles.

I rub her ear between two fingers. “It’s okay. I don’t need to be a doctor to know what you’re saying.”

A glass of lemonade sits to my right, its last remnants of ice melted long ago. Only a swallow remains. I down the last swig and choke on its hot, acidic taste, sending me into a coughing fit. Sparkles jumps to her feet, eyes wide and alert as she stares up at me.

Half coughing, half laughing, I stroke her back to calm her. “I’m okay. Promise.” She leans into my hand and then flops onto her side, belly beckoning. “A belly rub it is.”

The hinges on the kitchen screen door creak and moan behind me, shortly followed by the thwack of the door as it finds its way back home. Shoes crunch on the small patch of gravel. Must be Greta coming out to check on me.

Greta serves as my babysitter on Mondays and Wednesdays, and Grams watches me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Apparently, it’s against the law to leave an eleven-year-old home alone, even in Podunk, Texas, population 3,418. Wait, that was before the tragic Carmichael accident two weeks ago. We’re at 3,414 now. Anyway, if not for Buford Labs, the place where Mom and Dad both work, the population would plummet to about 34. Even that’s being generous.

“It’s as hot as a billy goat in a pepper patch out here, Kay-Kay.”

“Grams!” Kay-Kay’s her special name for me, and she’s the only one allowed to use it. To everyone else, I’m Kiara.

“Why don’t you come inside and sit a spell,” says Grams.

The weariness of the day evaporates in an instant. Moments later, I’m hanging from Grams’s neck like one of the many strands of pearls she loves to wear. A bear hug and three kisses on the cheek later, we let go of each other.

Grams bends down and scoops up Sparkles. Knowing she loves Sparkles almost as much as I do puts a smile right on my face. Lifting Sparkles up to her face, Grams kisses Sparkles on the top of her nose. “You been taking good care of my precious girl, Miss Sparkles?”

“She always does,” I say.

Sparkles grunts with pleasure and nuzzles Grams’s hand when she pulls her back down and holds her under her arm like a football. It’s Sparkles’s favorite way to be held. Living in Texas, everyone’s required to be a fan of the pigskin, and Sparkles is no exception. Perhaps she wouldn’t be if she knew what they made the ball from, but I’ll never tell her.

My mind flips back to Grams. “Greta didn’t mention you were coming over today.”

She takes my hand and wraps it behind her back as we walk back toward the house. “Well, I hadn’t planned on doing so until about twenty minutes ago. Tommy called and asked if I’d come over as soon as possible.”

It makes me giggle every time Grams calls Dad Tommy, and this time is no exception. But my glee evaporates as I ponder the reason for him calling us together. No rational explanation comes to mind.

“Why would Dad do that?” I ask. “He never calls anyone when he’s at work.”

Grams pulls the screen door open and sidles me through. “Honestly, I’m not too sure.” She sets Sparkles down, and Sparkles heads straight for her food bowl next to the fridge. “Tommy mentioned something about a big announcement but didn’t have time to discuss it. Said he and your mother would both be home shortly.”

“Where’s Greta?” I ask, realizing the sound of her afternoon soaps isn’t blaring from the living room.

“Oh, I sent her home as soon as I got here. At Tommy’s request, of course.” Grams’s lips curl into a smile. “I haven’t heard your father so excited in years. No matter what the news is, I’m excited for him. For all of you, really.”

My stomach gurgles as Grams and I sit down at the small kitchen table. What could possibly make Dad so excited? A thousand thoughts fly through my mind, leaving me a bit dizzy.

Did he win the lottery? No, he’d have to play to win, and Dad’s no gambler. Neither is Mom. So, what then? Did they discover something at work? Maybe something that might save the world?

Save the world. Those three words are one of my triggers. A constant reminder of the state of the world. That alone wouldn’t set me off, but it’s what their meaning implies that pulls me down into the depths of despair. Without fail, they place me firmly at world’s end.

Last night’s fear slinks back into my mind, bringing with it nightmares of open graves and bottomless pits. Death. The table’s edge bites into my palms as I clamp my hands around it to keep from falling into the abyss.

So many nights I lie awake in bed thinking about death and its finality. When I do, it paralyzes me. Drives fear deep into my bones. I love my life in Podunk, and I don’t want to die. After all, death is the end. Nothing remains but icy darkness and an emptiness that can never be filled.

The veins in my neck leap beneath my skin. Ratchets my fear up another level. Chest tight, breathing labored. It’s all ridiculous. I know it. But I can’t stop it.

White-knuckled fingers, drained of every drop of blood, cling to the table as though my life depends on it. Maybe it does, but I don’t have the time to think about it. Traitorous tears form in the corners of my eyes. Burn with fire. The last thing I want right now is a lecture from Grams about her God that created the universe, so I blink them back before Grams detects them.

I’m smart enough to see through the lies of a promised eternity, but Grams holds fast to her beliefs. Mom and Dad straddle the fence on the God theory, both agnostic at best. If I were to press them, I think they’d lean toward atheism. It’s the reason they both work so hard to find a cure for death. Believe me, I’m rooting for them every day.

As I sit here in this rickety old chair with a cushion way past its expiration date, a thought crosses my mind. Something I’ve never contemplated.

Maybe Grams believes in God because she’s afraid of death, too. The revelation leaves me mind blown.

Grams is sixty-three and approaches that fateful cliff of death with breakneck speed. The thought of losing her forever catches the breath in my throat. A lump the size of a Texas apple. More tears replace the ones I fought off moments ago.

Grams’s right hand slides across the table toward me.

She knows.

Her fingers, wrinkled with age yet still beautiful, touch the back of my hand. My gaze focuses on her slender fingers and the perfect, ruby-red nail polish brushed over long nails. It’s all I can do to maintain control. One look into her eyes, and the dam will break. I can feel it.

“Are you alright, Kay-Kay?” Grams’s voice, a pure, melodic soprano, bores into my heart. Plucks and severs all the strings I painstakingly placed around it. “Your face is gaunt.”

I nod, unable to form words without breaking down. The front door groans on its hinges, drawing Grams’s attention. She rises from the table.

“Tommy, is that you?” Grams asks.

“It’s Evelyn, Rose. Thomas is still outside on the phone. He’ll be in shortly.”

Grams heads out of the kitchen and into the dining room. I quickly wipe my eyes and follow her. Mom meets us under the archway leading into the living room. She and Grams kiss each other’s cheek.

I settle on a simple wave. “Hey, Mom.”

Mom’s brow furrows, and she tilt’s her head to the side when she looks at me. “Everything alright, Kiara?”

I nod and force a smile as my fingernails dig into my palms. No one needs to know how I’m feeling except for me. “I’m good. Just a bit weary from the heat.”

Mom approaches and places the back of her hand against my forehead. “Still a little warm.” Her all-knowing gaze strips me bare. “You were out by the tree, weren’t you?” She doesn’t even need to raise her voice.

“Yeah, but only for a little while,” I say. “I promise.”

Disappointment burns in her eyes. “You complain about the freckles on your cheeks but refuse to protect your fair skin.”

Heat rises in my neck and creeps up the sides of my face, settling in my cheeks. “I was in the shade.”

Grams places her hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Let it go, Evelyn. She’s just a girl.”

Tension hangs in the room, and I start to cringe thinking about what Mom’s response is going to be, but then Dad bursts through the front door. A grin the size of Jupiter stretches across his face, oblivious as to what was about to go down. Mom and Grams turn toward him.

“Pizza’s on the way,” he says. A quick wink in my direction settles my nerves. His hands ball into fists in front of him. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell you both the news!”

Mom shakes her head. “Seriously, Thomas. You’re more childish than Kiara at times.”

“You could learn a thing or two from him,” Grams mutters. The jab sneaks just under Mom’s radar.

Dad holds out his arms and beckons me to him. “Get in here before I die of loneliness.”

His bear hugs are almost as good as Grams’s. Almost. Admittedly, his aftershave takes the win over Grams’s perfume. I bury my nose in his neck and breathe deep. Everything in the world falls back into place.

“Love you, Little Bear,” he says in my ear.

Chills envelop me. “Love you back, Daddy Bear.”

Only in these intimate moments do we exchange such words, and at a volume no one else can hear. It’s our little secret, and I cherish it more than just about anything else on earth. Except maybe Grams and Sparkles. They reside on another level altogether.

Grams settles down on the couch. “So, what’s this big news?”

Pulling back, I say, “Yeah, what’s got you so excited?”

Dad winks at me and then glances over at Mom. “You want to tell them, or should I?”

Mom crosses her arms. “You’re the one all worked up over everything. Wouldn’t want to spoil your excitement.”

Just once in my life I’d like to see Mom act happy. Nothing ever turns the corners of her mouth up. At least nothing I’ve ever seen.

Dad rubs his hands together. If he holds his excitement in a moment longer, he might burst. “We’re going to New Eden!”

Excitement builds in my chest and deep within the pit of my stomach as my mind churns on his words. New Eden. I’ve heard the name before. Seen ads for all the fancy hotels that line its streets. From what I remember, they call them “Experience Hotels,” each boasting a different interactive theme. “Get washed away in Hotel Titanic” one ad claims. A bit macabre if you ask me, but I’m kinda into that despite my fear of death.

“We’re going on vacation?” I manage, my voice squeaking out three octaves higher than usual.

“I’ll do you one better than that,” says Dad. “Your mom and I both got jobs at GIST.”

“Gist?” The name holds no meaning, and the room darkens beyond my scrunched eyes.

Grams shoots to her feet. I’ve never seen her move so fast. “You’re moving to New Mexico?” Her cheeks flare with a rosy red hue.

Pulse quickens. Palms dampen. Chest constricts. Fear slithers its way into my ear canal and burrows deep within my mind. “Wait, what?”

“It’ll be good for you, Kiara,” Mom says. “New school. New friends.”

Suddenly, I find myself standing next to Grams, fists balled at my sides and fingernails on the verge of piercing my skin. “I don’t want to go to a new school or make new friends.” Stomping my foot, I jab my finger toward the floor. “I like it right here.”

Dad’s glee falters. “Sit down.” His glare turns on Grams. “Both of you.” We comply, but neither of us is happy about it, Grams’s shaking leg evidence of her fury.

Mom takes a seat in the chair opposite the couch, facing us. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for your dad and me, Kiara. You must understand what this means for us.” She looks at Grams. “All of us. GIST leads the world in the fight to save humanity.”

“Save humanity?” Grams says. “Psht. That’s a ripe pile of horse manure if I’ve ever smelled one.”

“No need to be crude, Mother.” Dad paces. A caged lion. He always does when he’s disappointed with something or someone.

Me…

Guilt tightens my throat, but it doesn’t change the way I feel. There’s no possible way I could leave Podunk behind. Everything I have, no, everything I am is wrapped up in this place. Grams and Robin live here.

“I don’t want to leave,” I say. “It’s not—”

“This isn’t a debate, young lady.” Mom’s gaze drills into the center of my forehead and stills my tongue from lashing out. “Look, it’s obvious the way humanity’s heading. We’re running out of natural resources, the climate is out of control, and our world is reaching the point of overpopulation. We can’t sit back and do nothing.”

Grams shakes her head. “Where’s your faith, Evelyn? And yours, Tommy?”

“Don’t you dare bring faith into this.” Mom’s cold green eyes rip the warmth from the room. “As you well know, God left us here to take care of the planet. What better way to do so than to join GIST at the forefront of the battle?”

Dad stops pacing and kneels in front of Grams. He takes her hands in his and kisses her knuckles before releasing them. “Look, Mother. I believe these new jobs will help us fulfill God’s plan, not hinder it.”

Grams folds her arms across her chest and snorts. “The answer is God, not technology.”

He turns to me, his smile back. “Speaking of technology, bet you didn’t know every house in New Eden comes with a robot.”

I mimic Grams and cross my arms over my chest, and then I stare into my lap, frowning so hard it hurts. “I don’t need a stupid robot. I’ve got Sparkles.”

He smooths back my hair. “Don’t worry, Sparkles will come with us, too.”

No. No, no, no.

My world crashes down around me, and I’m helpless to stop it.

Unless…

Latching onto Grams’s arm, I pull myself as close to her as I can. “Please let me live with you. I promise I’ll behave and do whatever you ask of me. Anything.”

Grams frees her arm from my grasp and slips it around me. “You know I love you more than words, Kay-Kay, but I’d never place myself between you and your parents.”

World crashing. Harder.

Tears bubble in my eyes and spill onto my cheeks. “But I’ll die without you.”

“Nonsense.” She kisses the top of my head. “I’ll always be just a phone call away. And we can do that video chat thing. It’ll be like I’m right there with you.”

“Video chat—” Another thought pops into my head. Brings a shred of hope back into my bleak world. “Come with us to New Eden. You must!” I pull away from Grams and lunge for Dad’s neck. “Tell her she can live with us. Please, Daddy. Don’t make me go it alone.”

His hands wrap around me. Pull me tight against him. “Actually, the thought did cross my mind. Turns out that the place next door is available. We could really use you there, Mother. What do you think?”

I rip myself away from Dad’s grasp and turn back to Grams. Excitement bounces me from one foot to the other. Dropping to my knees in front of the couch, I clasp my hands together in front of my face. “Please, Grams, say yes!”

“It would be quite convenient for you to be close, Rose,” Mom says.

Grams slowly shakes her head. “New Eden is of the devil, not God. I’m sorry, but no. I could never live in such a place.”

Grams, the room, and the world blur as I gaze upon the end of my life through tear-filled eyes. “I… I thought you all loved me.”

Springing to my feet, I turn and head toward my room, but something grabs my arm and twists me back around. Arms wrap around me. Squeeze me. Bury my head in soft fabric laced with the scent of Old Spice.

Daddy. My protector. My hero.

Sobs wrack me. Jerk me with violent convulsions. He holds me tighter, but it only deepens my sorrow.

My skin prickles. Heart aches. Darkness so deep and fear so heavy, my legs give out. I slip from Dad’s grasp and crumple to the floor at his feet.

How could he betray me? How could he make such a decision without consulting me or thinking about my wellbeing? I thought I was his Little Bear.

“You’re being ridiculous,” says Mom. Her tone stings and drives me farther into despair. Sometimes, I wonder if she knows what goes on with me at school.

Bullies…

Admittedly, I’m tall for my age. Like six inches taller than any of the other girls. And, being rail-thin with green eyes, they naturally call me Green Bean. It wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t flick green beans at me during lunch every time it’s on the menu. One or two always manage to find their way inside my shirt. It’s gross, especially when they’ve been chewed a little first. On more than one occasion, I faked being sick on a day green beans were being served. I’m certain no one would blame me if they knew. Well, except maybe Mom.

Why doesn’t she understand me?

Sometimes I wonder if it’s her or me that’s from another planet. All bets are on me if I’m being honest. I’m awkward around most people and find it near impossible to make friends. If not for Robin literally crashing into my life on the playground in second grade, I’d be alone. Some might say the two of us being chased by different bullies and running into each other was fate. I say we just hit it off.

What will I do without you, Robin?

While wallowing in a muddied pit of sorrow, my mind reminds me about another fact I gleaned from an ad about New Eden. Being a high-tech city and a model for future living, they have virtual school. If I could attend without physically going, it’d at least save me from being bullied by a whole new set of mean kids.

Thin as it is, virtual school is the only thread of hope I have left to cling to. With a glimmer of renewed hope, I scrub my face with my shirt, pick myself up off the floor, and then broach the subject. “If I have no choice but to move to New Eden with you, can I at least be granted one small request?”

“Depends on what it is,” says Mom.

I was talking to Dad!

Fingernails bite into my palms just as I’m about to fire back, saving me from crashing and burning before I get my request made. Fear of denial chases me through my mind, but the alternative of not asking would seal my fate, so I blurt it out before I find myself unable. “I saw on TV that New Eden has a virtual school option. Can I do that? I won’t complain about the move anymore if you let me. I promise.”

At least not out loud.

“Yes,” Dad says, just as Mom says, “We’ll have to see.” The two of them share a long glance.

The doorbell rings. Based on all our reactions, I’m certain no one remembered the pizza.

“We’re in the right district,” Dad says. He smiles at me and winks before heading toward the front door. “In fact, there’s no way around it.”

The bleak darkness and fear surrounding me recedes. Just a little. Then, a spark of hope ignites within me. It’s not much, but it’s more than I could’ve hoped for while standing at world’s end.