Chapter Two

The second I walked in, the first thing that caught my eye was the large window on the right wall. It was the width and length of the wall and it lit up the room even with the grey weather outside. I caught myself, losing my balance from when the receptionist had pushed me in and looked up to face a large mahogany table with six black chairs on either side and two at the end of the table. People my ages anywhere from 16 to 18 all sat in these chairs. Most of them wore all the same expression. They all looked at me with that same stony, calculating look, sitting straight and stiff in the chair. Only a handful differed in appearance and expression. There was a girl, around 17, about as old as me, and her appearance struck me as being very unusual. She had dyed her own black hair a bright, harsh silver and she had purple contacts in her eyes. She wore all black, a black crop top and ripped jeans with a choker necklace around her slim, white throat. She was staring at me with an unimpressed look, twisting a strand of hair around her finger, slowly chewing a wad of gum. I saw a hint of a sneer play around her lips- also a bright silver. On the other side of her was a tall boy with black, cold eyes that matched his hair. His face was pale, and his nose was long and pointed on his thin drawn face. He, too, was giving me a calculating, mocking look. Then I noticed another boy at the head of the table. He was leaning back in his chair, very casually, and he wasn't staring at me. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the black-haired boy. It was more of an observing look, with a slight raise of the eyebrows, as if he was extremely unimpressed with what sat three seats in front of him. He had blonde hair, and bright blue eyes, a serious, good-looking face with just a faint hint of a smile, almost as if he was secretly laughing at everyone around him. He wore a brown, leather jacket and seemed to have a type of cynical, reckless aura around him, and seemed (dare I say it about anything in that organisation) not completely horrible. There was a flash in the light that took my eyes toward the old, black watch on his right wrist, then finally the eyes dropped around me. Some went back to their conversations, and one auburn haired, tall boy went back to wringing his hands nervously. I was hoping to be able to sit down ignored, but almost as instantly as I made my way to the seat at the end of the table, the silver haired girl let out a cold, hard laugh that echoed throughout the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, in a mockingly sweet voice. "Are you lost? Tourists are usually on the other side of town, if you care to know,"

"I don't, really," I said levelly, sitting down and avoiding her gaze.

Both the girl and the boy exchanged glances from across the table.

"Who assigned you here?" asked the boy in a drawling, monotone voice

"I was told not to pass that information to anyone," I responded.

"Outside the agency, genius," the boy scoffed

"As far as I can see you're not in the agency."

"What's your name?" the girl said, making a disgusted face,

"Vienna," I replied, well aware what was coming next.

"Vienna what?" the boy said

"Vienna...Johnson," I said

The boy let out a snort of laughter and the girl scoffed.

"You're kidding me!" the boy said, "Johnson as in the ones who were traitors? And ended up getting themselves caught and killed? My, we've gotten quite a pathetic group this year." 

He laughed again. I saw the blonde-haired boy look up at me questioningly, then back to the boy. Then he flicked his wrist and the other boy let out a cry of surprise and put a hand to his neck. He looked back at the blonde boy, who raised his eyebrow as if daring the other to say something.

"What?!" he said

"Nothing," the blonde-haired boy shrugged, with a soft American accent, "We've just done this every single time someone has walked in the door, so...you know, why not break the routine?"

Now more people were looking up, listening in to the conversation.

"Yeah, well I haven't heard you say a thing," the black-haired boy said,

"Okay," the boy nodded slowly, "um...what do you call this?"

"Don't pay him any attention, Zach," said the girl, "it's obviously what he wants,"

The blonde-haired boy laughed out loud,

"Oh, I want attention??" he said

The girl flushed angrily, as she let go of the strand of hair she had been playing with.

"What's your name?" she demanded

I watched in interest as the boy hesitated and his mocking expression faltered.

"Oh, you don't want to tell us," the girl sneered

"Well, what about you?" the boy asked calmly

"Silvester Dimitri," the girl answered proudly, "Niece to Vasile Alderean, who's a chief of a base over in Romania. And Zachary, here, is distantly related to the Lloyd family-who have been in this organisation since it started,"

The boy scoffed and shook his head.

"Oh, what an accomplishment," he said mockingly

"What, can you do better?" Silvester said, "Are you the son of Georgi Mikhailov? Petrov Vins? Justin Lloyd?"

"My name's Aidan... Judson," the boy said irritably

"Judson?" Zachary repeated, "as far as I know, there's no Judson's involved- "

"Who cares?" said the boy -Aidan sharply, "It doesn't matter about your family, it matters how efficient you are, and..." he scoffed, "Well. I'm not sure how soon that's happening."

Zachary was about to answer when the door on the left wall swung open and a man- well, no he couldn't have been any more than 20- walked in. He had black hair and dark blue eyes, and wore an expensive, black suit with a gold watch around his left wrist. He walked in a brisk, business like way. He was followed in by a man -well, more of a giant really. He was tall and muscular, with tattoos all over his arms, back and neck. He had piercing black eyes, and a harsh expression, with a tattoo of a snake on half of his bare head. He was dressed all in black with a gun at his side and two swords crisscrossed on his back. His furious gaze skimmed over the face of the students, making many look down at their hands, trying not to be seen. Eventually, he stepped back and stood right beside the door.

"My name is Jack Damien," the young man in the suit said coolly, "and welcome to the CCA. I will be overseeing your training here,"

"But you're barely older than the rest of us!" Zachary said loudly, making many heads jerk up. "And you expect us to listen to you?"

Jack slowly turned around to face Zachary, making him skulk back into his seat.

"Zachary Bennett isn't it?" Jack said. Zachary nodded.

"I've been training since I was nine years old," Jack continued, his voice dangerously soft, "My first mission was when I was eleven. I could kill half of you in this room in a second and the other half wouldn't even know what had happened. Do you really want to bring this up now?"

Zachary was silent, looking as if he was debating whether or not to say anything else.

"Oh, no, that's okay, just tell us where to file a complaint," Aidan said lightly, seemingly saving Zachary from the decision.

Jack glanced over at him, and the rest of us waiting around the table were silent, watching uneasily to see what would happen next.

"We're not here to accommodate your needs, Mr. Lloyd, regardless of who your father is," he said, and edge to his voice. Everyone looked over at Aidan in astonishment, including Zachary and Sil, who looked extremely put-off.

"You don't like how we run things over here," Jack continued. "We can always arrange for your removal. Anyone else?"

The room was deadly silent.

"Good," said Jack and went on. "This department is now where you live. Where you eat, sleep, train and fight. And anyone who is found disobeying the rules will suffer severe consequences. There are a number of rules that we take very seriously in this academy, and that you are expected to follow. There will be no traveling out of your dormitories at night, and especially traveling out of the building, being late to your classes will not be tolerated and will be seriously punished, no outside food, clothing, articles, etc., are allowed, and no communication outside of this academy. All electronics are prohibited, including phones, laptops, et cetera. Students must obey the dress code and curfew, no fighting, stealing, and any teacher has the right to tell you what to do, so I suggest you obey them. There, of course, are many prohibited parts of the building, you are to stay on Floor 18, 19 and 20. In that area, you are allowed in your dormitories, the mess hall, the training room -otherwise known as Room 6A, and classrooms. No other rooms are...tolerated for entrance unless instructed by a teacher or me. Most importantly, Floor 21 is off limits. Anyone who is found there will receive a far more severe punishment and will then be under the charge of the board of the directors, and...I'm sure you don't want that."

Kids all around me were exchanging glances. I was sure none of us wanted to see what would happen if we went that far.

"Oh, yes, and," Jack continued. "Any teacher has the right, if a student has broken five or more minor rules to issue Protocol 32."

There was a short silence.

"What's...Protocol 32?" asked Zachary

"Believe me, you don't want to know," said Jack. "Now there are 11 of you here and 9 more students who passed the Run from earlier this morning. In all, there are 23 people in your unit who are hoping to pass the tests to get into the CCA. Only eight of all of you will be accepted. At the end of your training you will all take the exams. The eight of you with the highest scores will move on. It all depends on your efficiency."

Aidan gave Zachary a look.

"Nevertheless, I require your full attention, obedience and effort. Do you understand?"

There were nods around the room, as well as murmurs of, "What does he mean? There are 13 of us... not 11,"

"Good," Jack nodded, "But before that, there'll be your initiation. Or the Run. You're all familiar with the assistant director of the CCA, Petrov Vins. He will be leading that. All who fail the initiation don't get in. That's all."

Jack eyes searched around the room and landed on me. I instantly began to feel uneasy but kept my gaze level. Soon, Jack turned and walked briskly out.

"I want you all in Room 6A in two minutes," Petrov barked, and he too disappeared out the door. There was a short silence where it seemed as if no one knew what to do.

"Lloyd?" Sil said incredulously, "are you the son of Justin Lloyd?"

"Don't tell me you're stupid enough to be ashamed of that," said Zachary, "why even waste your time here when you could learn personally from the best of the best?"

"Why do you waste your time here when you could do something more fitting for someone like you?" Aidan gave a sarcastic smile. "I hear that the janitorial industry is pretty easy to get into." Zachary scoffed as Aidan walked off and followed outside the door muttering something to Sil. I stood there, finding myself rather confused and clueless, having no idea who Justin Lloyd was, or what he had to do with the CCA. Just as I started to follow the group out, I felt someone bump into me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," someone said behind me. I turned to see a smiling, auburn-haired boy with a pale face, and a tall and lanky figure.

"Oh, it's fine," I said, "don't worry about it,"

"Um, Jacob Brandon," the boy said, sticking out a hand.

"Vienna," I introduced myself, shaking his hand, "nice to meet you." I looked ahead to where the corridor was now almost empty. "But, uh, we should probably catch up with everyone."

"Right, right," Jacob agreed, "I'm sorry. Don't worry, I'm always clumsy �"you're not a special exception."

"Glad to know."

We started to follow the group down the hallway.

"My mum didn't want me to join the CCA- didn't think I'd last a second," Jacob chatted breezily, making me a bit uncomfortable. I had never liked people who talked too much. "But dad was adamant. Of course, I probably won't even pass the test to get in the academy and mum will have me home again. But I do hate to disappoint dad. But then... I am used to it,"

"I'm...sorry," I said, unsure what else to say.

"So is my dad," the boy nodded solemnly, "but what about you? What do you parents think?"

"Oh, um, my parents died... about two years ago," I said

"Oh, I'm sorry" Jacob said sympathetically

"No, it's fine," I shrugged, "I didn't even know about the CCA over at the Nahant Group Home-"

"Really?" Jacob cut in, "you went there?"

"...Yes. But not for that long,"

"But that's all the way in Massachusetts, in America," Jacob said

"Yeah, I know," I said

"Well, my older sister went there," said Jacob

"A foster home?? But you have parents," I pointed out

"It's a long story," Jacob shrugged, "I was adopted. Cecilia and Cole were the only ones who knew our biological parents."

"Oh, okay," I nodded, not sure what else to say to this seemingly open and chatty boy. "Oh, well, here's Room 6A."

Jacob and I filed in after the other students into what looked like a very large gym. On the opposite wall was a small, white door and near the ceiling was a large glass window overlooking the room. All around us were targets, boxing bags, guns, knives, hand grenades, boxing rings and every type of swords. The left wall must have gone up about fifty feet and there were short poles sticking out of the wall for climbing. The room was so large that running from one wall to the other either way would take minutes. The floors were a hard cement and the walls reached up so high that I had to tip my head all the way to see it. Our every breath seemed to echo throughout the enormous gym. So, we all jumped when Petrov barged in, slamming the doors. With the back of my eye, I saw Jack standing behind the top window on the other wall.

"I'm not going to waste time explaining over and over so listen closely, because I won't repeat this!" Petrov shouted roughly, "so here are your tasks. First, the poles on the left wall go up exactly 65 feet, these poles go all the way up. Half of them are unsteady and you will fall if you so much as touch them. You have to be quick and light, or...well, you can imagine. Next you fight me in the boxing ring. You have to stay in for a full 15 minutes. You tap out, walk out, whatever, you're out of the program. Next, you go through a little, fun game- a lot like dodgeball. But with bullets. You see that machine over there?"

Petrov pointed to a long machine on the right wall.

"That will shoot off bullets every direction! All you have is a shield and a gun, set to a certain stun that will disable the machine."

Jacob and I exchanged sceptical glances.

"And finally, you go through that door at the end of the room one at a time. Is that clear?"

Most of us nodded, but as I glanced to my right, I noticed a sandy haired boy whose face had gone a sickly green.

"I'm sorry... I-I can't," he said hoarsely, "I can't stand heights... or blood. I can't,"

All eyes followed him as his footsteps departed quickly away out of the hallway.

"Would anyone like to follow Mr. James out?" Petrov asked coldly, "be marked down as the second coward of this class?"

Nobody answered.

"No?" Petrov said, his gaze piercing all of us, in turn, "fine. Well, too bad. You'll regret it. Very well then, we'll move to the first task."

My stomach was churning, and I looked around anxiously. Of course, I knew I wouldn't walk out, but I didn't want any of this at all. And how many times would I have to tell myself why I was doing this to stay here? I looked over at Jacob, whose face had turned even whiter than usual. I noticed he was looking up at the climbing wall.

"I can't stand heights either," he shivered.

"You'll be fine," I said, trying to sound reassuring, but neither of us were very convinced. 

Aidan, on the other hand, was standing calmly, looking at Petrov, without any indication that he was at all worried about anything. Zachary, though, was wringing his hands and Sil twisting her hair almost furiously. Some people whispered to each other among me, but there were a few who stood motionless, silent, without a trace of any emotion. It made me feel a bit uneasy, was that how these people in the CCA were taught growing up? Would that have been my life if my parents were still alive?

"Your goal is to be the first one to make it up!!" Petrov snapped, breaking through my train of thoughts.

Immediately, everyone rushed to the small, metal poles about the size of metal batons stuck into the wall, no harnesses, no cables, and no ropes. I put my foot on a shiny, new pole, but it immediately fell down. How was I supposed to know which ones were steady, and which were not?

"The ones with rust are steadier," I heard a voice beside me.

I looked up to see Aidan climbing up ahead of me. I gripped a rusted pole and hoisted myself up. It held. After passing the information on to Jacob, knowing he couldn't make it by himself, I started to climb, making sure to step only on the rusted poles. I tried to tune out all distractions, I need to focus on each pole at a time �"don't look up, don't look down. My legs were shaking and felt weak �" heights were the one thing that really terrified me. And every time I looked around, I felt like yelling or screaming or even just climbing back down, but I forced myself to keep on going. I tried to keep as close to the wall as I could, without thinking about falling, or slipping (which I did on several occasions). I really never knew which was worse �"looking up or looking down. Looking down, I saw how far from the ground I was. Looking up, I knew I was high up, but couldn't see the ground. I tried not to see people losing their grip and just barely hanging on, or Sil and Zachary advancing, or Jacob's struggling crawl up the wall. I tried to steady my breathing, ignore the pain in my arms and legs, and soon my mind had become familiar with picking out the rusted poles and all the stepping and grabbing. This went on for a while, as I tried not to think of anything but 'one step at a time.' And then, I felt a hand on mine. Zachary and I had reached for the same pole at the same time. Zachary grinned and before I had time to react, had wrenched my hand away. I swung my hand wildly, trying not to panic, as I reached for somewhere to put my hand, when I felt Zachary kick me in the stomach. I stifled a scream as my feet lost my holding and I hung there by one hand. I looked down and instantly grew dizzy. Was I really this far up? If I fell at this height, then, without a doubt, I would die... I felt the terror rising in my chest, but then caught a glimpse of Zachary grinning, as he looked down at me. I steadied my breathing, clenched my fist as I barely hung on, and looked down. I forced my fears to the back of my head, as I looked for the nearest pole. Setting my foot on it, I looked to my side and found another steady pole. I swung myself upwards with my other hand. I could feel myself shaking but forced myself to ignore it. Then I reached with my other hand, so that soon I had started to climb again. Nevertheless, Zachary had still gotten a lot further than me. I clenched my teeth. The only thought now in my mind was to get past Zachary. I needed to get ahead of Zachary. I needed to be before Zachary. I started to climb faster. Picking out every rusted pole to climb on, barely even thinking about it, and soon, I had caught up. Zachary and I were neck to neck, and as he looked over, he scowled at me, then quickened his pace. I quickened my own, going as fast as I dare go. I knew that if Zachary tried to go any faster, he'd lost his footing. But he did go faster, and soon stumbled. Though he soon regained his pace, it was just enough to get me in front of him. I went at a steady pace for a couple of minutes, just in front of Zachary, when I noticed we were nearing the top. With my arms and legs sore and tired, plus the constant reminder of how high up I was, I was relieved. Then I felt a hand yank roughly on my leg. I yelled in anger and alarm and watched as Zachary climbed up in front of me. He laughed nastily as he looked back at me. I scoffed and shook my head and forced my shaking hands to continue grabbing the poles.

"I hate heights..." I muttered to myself, not sure if I felt more angry or scared. Right when I was sure I couldn't handle one more pole, I reached the top. Both Aidan and Zachary had already gone down by way of a thick rope, attached to the top and bottom, hanging there. Willing to do anything to get down, I put my hands on the rope and slid down. I had never felt anything like it as I picked up speed. It was so fast I was forced to close my eyes as I felt wind blowing hard against me and so loud I couldn't hear a thing. Soon enough, I felt myself land on the hard, metal floor, and it took me a while, to clear me head, and even look up. Pushing my light blonde and brown hair out of my face, I looked up to see Aidan standing there. He handed me his hand and helped me up. I was a bit surprised that me, of all people had made it third. Aidan didn't share as much enthusiasm in my abilities though.

"You hate heights, don't you?" he asked.

"I came in third, regardless," I said. "We can't all be you, you know."

Aidan just smiled as Zachary came up towards us.

"What were you thinking?" I exclaimed. "I could've been killed!"

"Um, I don't care," Zachary snorted. "What did you think I was going for?"

"I don't know who you think you are-" I started angrily.

"Both of you, shut up!" Petrov snapped.

"Yeah, Bennett," said Aidan. "Shut up. You should take Petrov's advice once and a while. It could benefit us all."

Zachary shot him a dirty look but backed off anyway. Next, Sil came down, then the rest of them, then finally, Jacob and another boy came down. The boy had red, watery eyes, and was holding his leg.

"I'm done with this," he said, a sob in his voice, "I-I'm done, you're all crazy! I don't care what Dad will say! I'm done!"

With that, he ran out �"well, more of limped out, as fast as he could.

"What happened?" I asked Jacob

"Uh, well," said Jacob, then swallowed and cleared his throat, "He fell, I grabbed his hand, I barely got him back up, but he did something to his leg, I don't know. At least someone is worst then me,"

"You mean the person who just ran out the door?" said Aidan, scoffing "yeah, not anymore."

"Oh."

"Jack said there would be 11 of us left," I murmured

"Hurry up!" Petrov shouted once more in his thick, Russian accent, "The ones who finished first will fight me first! That's for 15 minutes! You walk out-you can't come in again. So, the Lloyd kid,"

Aidan rolled his eyes,

"Get over here!"

He gave Petrov an irritated look as he took off his coat and walked up to the ring.

"Get over here!"

Aidan gave Petrov an irritated look as he took off his coat and walked up to the ring. I watched as Aidan took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, looking extremely annoyed, which is far less then I would look like. The prospect of fighting Petrov was almost laughable. I would lose. If I didn't die, I would fail completely. I would probably quit after ten seconds...

"Here's a question," Jacob whispered to me, with a terrified, shaking laugh, "does passing out count as quitting?"

"I hope not...or I'll fail," I said gloomily, then caught sight of Jacob's terror-stricken face and added hastily, "You'll be fine. Just be...fast and nimble..."

"Right," nodded Jacob, but I didn't even convince myself, let alone Jacob. In fact, he was one of the last people I would really expect to be fast and nimble if I was being honest.

Soon, our attention had turned towards Aidan and Petrov inside the ring. I watched as Petrov started a time and smirked a little as he turned to Aidan. He swung a blow at Aidan, but Aidan ducked out of the way just in time. The second time, though, he wasn't as lucky, as Petrov's blow knocked him off his feet. I watched, wincing, as Aidan attempted to get up again, but Petrov grabbed him and punched him again, this time in the face. Blood spurted from Aidan's nose, but ignoring this, he kicked Petrov in the stomach. The force took Petrov off guard long enough for Aidan to scramble back up. He tried to swing a punch at Petrov, but Petrov caught Aidan's arm, and, twisting it behind his back, threw him on the ground. I faintly heard Aidan inhale sharply as Petrov kicked him in the ribs. Quickly, he rolled to his side and picked himself up again, breathing hard. But after a few minutes, Petrov had once again wrestled him to the ground. I stood, nervously watching as Petrov landed blow after blow on Aidan, with images in my mind of myself -the girl who couldn't even pass gym class, let alone survive boxing ring with a 7-foot giant. A flash of light caught my eye, and I saw Aidan's hand reach into his coat pocket and draw out silver knife that reflected in the light. Petrov let out a roar, more out of anger than pain, as Aidan plunged the knife into Petrov's side. Aidan gave Petrov a cynical smile as he shrugged, standing up. Petrov angrily pulled the small knife from his side, blood dripping down onto the floor, giving Aidan a deadly look. He ran at Aidan, but Aidan ducked and moved out of the way, punching Petrov in the ribs. Petrov knocked Aidan to the ground, choking him with his arm. I saw him say something silently and quickly to Aidan, which made Aidan struggle to break free.

"Oh, you just don't know when to give up, do you?" Petrov spat.

Aidan answered, but his voice was too quiet to hear. Then he tackled Petrov to the ground, catching him by surprise. He said something and started to punch Petrov violently, until Petrov grabbed his arm and threw him off.

"Enough!" he shouted, breathing heavily, "You're done!"

Panting, bloody and bruised, Aidan walked out, holding his side and wincing in pain. He caught me staring, a horrified expression on my face. Smiling faintly, he whispered,

"You're next."

Fifteen minutes later, Sil sniggered as I limped out of the ring. 

"That was pathetic, Vienna. Remember, you're not in ballet anymore."

"Yeah, well, jokes on them," I sighed, coming back over to Jacob as Sil and Zach started laughing, "I was horrible at dance."

Jacob handed me an ice pack.

"Don't worry, it's not about how well you did. You just needed to stay in there."

"Well, actually, they do take your performance throughout the Run into account when you go through your final trials at the end of the year," said Aidan

"Oh, well, then I'm sure Petrov will label yours very nicely," I said

"That would be extremely shocking."

"Well, I'll fail," said Jacob gloomily

"Haven't we already established that?"

"Aidan!"

"He said it, not me. And it's true. The CCA is harsh and violent, so to survive in it, you have to be harsh and violent-"

"Like Petrov?" I said sarcastically

"I never said be an idiot," Aidan went on, casually, "and no offense, Jacob, but you don't seem like a very resilient or confident person. You know the type of person who can barely pick up a gun without shooting it in their face."

"Oh, yeah, no offense there," scoffed Jacob

"Aidan, just let it go. The people who are here are here, there isn't anything you can do about it."

Aidan didn't say anything more, and I watched as one after the other the students went through, the majority of them making me wring my hands in worry. There were a couple though, such as one brown haired girl, Sil, another girl with pale, almost white, blonde hair and Zachary, who weren't terrible and fought back. Not that Sil or Zachary really mattered.

At long last, the last student stumbled down from the ring, holding his ribs and wincing in pain. He hadn't been too bad, seeing as the object was only to survive. Though that feeling left as I watched Petrov eyeing us unimpressively and jotting something onto his clipboard.

"NEXT TRIAL!" He groaned, and reluctantly, I rose to my feet, pain shooting up to my head. Bloodied and tired, we lined up before a 5-foot machine on the wall, with small guns lining up on it as Petrov went through the objective again. He had before him on the table eleven guns, set to stun and temporarily disable the machine before. We only had five shots so by God, we had better use them well or else...We would be given a shield that would protect us from the bullets -well that depended, of course, on how we used it. I was eight in line, Jacob right in front of me, and Aidan first. Maybe at least, I'd be able to see how everyone else did it, and learn... But I lost all hope as Aidan casually picked up a gun from the table and a shield, and within two minutes had taken out every single gun, coming out without a scratch. Zachary sneered at him as he threw the empty gun and shield on the table. Of course, it all came down to aim, and I, who had only shot a gun once in my life, really had no hope. Sil and Zachary did well, as well as the other two girls I had noticed before and the boy who had been the last to come out of the rink. Jacob dropped his gun, then ended up holding his shield upside down. Snickers came from the group, and Jacob turned bright red in the face. Nevertheless, he picked the gun up and turned to the machine. 

I was pretty sure Petrov took much satisfaction in bringing pain and humiliation to Jacob, as he managed to miss every single gun except for one (which happened to be an accident) and ended up almost hitting Petrov himself. Eventually, Petrov switched it off, pulled Jacob out and shouting at him for a good five minutes. Finally, when he had yelled himself hoarse, he turned abruptly to me, with a

"Johnson! Go!"

I jumped a little, then turned to the table, picking up the nearest gun. Then I grabbed a shield.

"Ready?" said Petrov, and he didn't wait for an answer as he flipped the switch. I stood a minute, the shield covering me, and the bullets ricocheting off the shield, thinking that this probably wasn't the safest idea for any of us with the bullets flying at all angles. I shook myself mentally and turned back to the gun. My aim couldn't be trusted, not at a long range at least �"but what about a short one? How close could I get to the gun? Slowly, I inched forward, the bullets becoming harder as the dented into the shield, causing a number of the students to have to duck to dodge the ones that flew their way. I stopped a couple feet away from it, and aimed my gun out, my hand feeling suddenly vulnerable and unprotected. But one by one, as I managed to hit every single one of the guns, the bullets stopped thundering and the clang of metal lessened, until all the guns lay motionless. There was an inch of silence, as I returned the now empty gun and shield back.

"Anyone could've made that shot," Zachary murmured as I walked by, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah. But you didn't." I said and went on to the back of the group where Jacob was standing, rubbing his shoulder.

"That was smart," he said

"It was just getting out easy," I shrugged. I looked over at Aidan, but he was silent. I had a feeling that he probably agreed with my words more than I did. After three more students, Petrov switched off the gun, turned to his clipboard, occasionally looking up to eye us suspiciously.

"You!" he pointed at Jacob, who started in alarm. "Come on."

He abruptly motioned for Jacob to follow him as he went over, shooting me one last bewildered glance before he disappeared through the door after Petrov. 

Author's Note

I know this is a long chapter, but I couldn't really think of anyway to break it up. Seriously, if it gets too long or drags out like way much and makes you fall asleep where you sit, please tell me. Do not be afraid to use harsh critiscm, as long as it's constructive, please tell me what you think, review, follow and feel free to message me about anything.