Chapter Six

We sit in the dining hall, a floor down from our dorm, or rather the ground floor. It is the day after our release from the solitary confinement cells, and we all have new identities, new appearances, and a new look on what life will bring.
The hall is massive, big enough to hold over one hundred and fifty people. Tables skirt the grey marble floor, chairs filled with people eating their breakfasts. The walls hold images of past recruits who have gone on to Sector Five and beyond, and in the centre of the hall sits a buffet that offers food from full English breakfasts to fruit such as apples. Tea and coffees are also offered, as well as fresh juices.
“God, this is so good!” a boy on our table says, biting into a sausage. Maxine sits beside him, but that’s not her name anymore. Max is what replaces it, naturally. She chews around bland toast, not as enthusiastic as the boy beside her. Her hair is short, kissing her shoulders and thinned out like mine. Her right hand and left arm are bandaged, just like mine and everyone else’s. She has a black eye.
“Shut up, Kyle.” Tilly, or Fox, says beside me, flicking food at him from her fork. The boy, Kyle, loudly protests, and throws a remaining sausage at her. Tilly no longer has brown hair; it’s a shocking red colour now. Her lip has been split open, and a large bandage covers the spot where her neck meets the shoulder. She winces every time she moves her head.
Around the table is everyone from my dorm and a couple from Maxine’s. We had to find the place ourselves, since the people here don’t believe in giving tours of the place. They want us to become independent as well as strong. The four of us found it kind of easily, only wandering for about ten minutes. As soon as we’d entered, Maxine had spotted me and Cole and bellowed our names in relief. She’d embraced us, and with a shaky breath, introduced us to some of her dorm members. I hadn’t cared enough to listen, too transfixed of her black eye.
Cole got lucky. He had no changes made, only the attention to the device and the attention to wounds. His name and appearance practically remains the same, apart from the slight trimming to his hair. DJ was almost as lucky, only he left with a tattoo on his neck; his initials in somewhat intimidating letters. Something tells me that he requested it.
“I want to go home, Connie.” Maxine says. “I mean Harper.”
“It’s okay; it’s nice to hear my name.” I smile, reaching over to touch her hand. Cole sits by her side, his arm draped over her shoulders. “And so do I, but this is what it is.”
“I can’t believe that b*****d hit you.” Cole snarls, glowering at his empty plate. I haven’t touched anything on mine; two slices of toast and crispy bacon.
Cole is referring to Maxine’s mentor, one who has the same job as Ethan. When she was released from her cell, she apparently went nuts and attacked him, so in return she got a punch in the face. It had calmed her down to say the least.
“I like the black eye look, it’s kind of hot.” another boy says with a sly grin. Kyle laughs, and Maxine smirks at her plate. I like these boys; they make the most innocent person I know smile. I know that they are being kind to her for her sake, and I appreciate it since I can’t do it myself. After all, they live together now.
“How many are in your dorm?” DJ asked, scratching a spot in his hair as he finishes his breakfast.
“Seven. Four boys and three girls.” Kyle says, stuffing his face with beans. “The other two girls suck, though. Keep bragging about how tough they are and how fast they are, that’s why we ditched them this morning. Also, they keep poking fun at Max.”
“Yeah, so Max is sticking around with us.” the nameless boy says with a grin. I stare at him, trying to pluck a name, and finally I remember. Mike. Kyle and Mike look to be about twenty, but they certainly don’t act it. They’re too easy going, and it’s a breath of fresh air for me. They seem to be unfazed by the trauma of the last week, and it is only their eyes that give them away.
“Can’t believe there’s only four of you, though.” Kyle says, shaking his head. “Lucky buggers.”
“How can you be so easy going?” I say, raising a brow at them. They laugh.
“Darling, you are not at home anymore. You have to be easy going here, otherwise you’re screwed.” Mike tells me, and suddenly his smile seems false. Then he looks at my arm. “You’re being monitored.”
He’s right. My device had been activated, for a red light is flashing through my bandage.
“That hurt like a b***h.” Kyle says, cringing at the memory.
“No kidding.” DJ mutters. Unnerved by the fact that I am being monitored, and the only one at that, I look around the hall. Everyone is minding their own business, their arms not giving off light like they’re supposed to.
“I wouldn’t worry. Probably testing them.” Kyle assures me. “My brother said that they’ll pick random recruits to monitor at random times, just to see if they’re working right.”
“You’re brother went here?”
“Yeah, he’s in Sector Three now. Everything’s confidential there.” he shrugs.
“You mean, we can get in touch with our families?” Tilly demands, suddenly excited. Kyle snorts.
“Of course! But only we can write to them, not the other way around. And information about the place can’t be mentioned, only info on how you are, if you’ve made friends, crap like that.” he shrugs again, finally clearing his plate. My heart is in my throat. I can send things to them, I can write letters to them. I can let them know I’m okay!
“Got your schedules yet? Or has Ethan not given them to you yet?” Mike asks.
“No, Ethan’s explaining them after breakfast.” Cole says, his hands clasped on the table.
“Can’t believe we have Ethan Riley as a mentor.” Kyle says, sitting up straighter in his seat while shaking his head in disbelief.
“Why?” Tilly demands.
“He went here with my brother. Got transferred to Sector Three in two years, and wound up in Sector Five a year later! He’s only nineteen and training up recruits!” Kyle laughs. “Chances are we’ll move up as quickly as he did.”
“Do you know how he did it that fast?” DJ asked, resting his chin on his fist. I look to Kyle, as do the others, all of us intrigued.
He clears his throat. “He was already fairly trained when he got here, his dad got him to practice kick boxing and stuff like that. It took him a year to master using a gun and managing pain, though, but once that was done, he was out of here quicker than a flying dart.” He pauses. “People want to know why his dad wanted him so trained up, like he had to get through this place in once piece. They say they break you here, right? Well, Ethan had already been broken before he got here, or so people say. Parents pushed him until he saw everything as a bad thing.”
“Why?” we ask in a jumbled murmur.
“Dunno. My brother thinks otherwise. He was good friend with him here, they helped each other fight and stuff. He reckons that’s just a cover up, and that Ethan has a somewhat purpose here.”
“What do you think?” I say, mimicking DJ in posture.
“I think he got lucky.” he laughs, and I roll my eyes. He’s probably right.
“It’s amazing we have Silver, too, you know.” Mike says. “She’s supposedly the nicest around here. The other female mentors here are right b*****s... and ugly as hell.” he cringes.
I laugh slightly, and then turn my attention to my arm again. It’s stopped flashing. I wonder who was monitoring me and what they thought. What will they be looking for? People here get stripped of their emotions until they are nothing but a hollow shell. But who’s to say that just because people don’t show emotion doesn’t mean they don’t feel it? You can’t change the fact that we’re human! I frown, shaking my head to myself. Seems pointless to me, really. Pain monitors I can understand, but emotions?
“Why are they monitoring our emotions?” I ask. “I don’t get it.”
“My brother said that it’s a progress matter. They focus more on feelings such as fear or anger. The more you feel those emotions, the more chance you have of moving to Sector Two.” Kyle says, shrugging yet again.
“You shrug a lot.” Tilly notes.
“Habit.” he shrugs again.
“I need ice.” Maxine says, tenderly touching the skin around her eye.
“They keep that stuff in the bathrooms of the dorm. Come on, let’s see to that.” Mike suggests, getting to his feet. He moves to the left, gently taking her arm and guiding her to her feet. Kyle also stands, and the three turn to us.
“Meet here at lunch?” Maxine asks.
“Sure, why not?” DJ smiles, and we watch the trio leave.
“Think she’ll be okay with them?” Cole asks me, quirking an eyebrow.
“Jealous, Daily?” Tilly taunts, wriggling her brows at him. “Who wouldn’t be, a good looking girl like that with two guys on each arm?” she laughs.
“Shut up.” he snaps, but he’s smiling and red tinges his cheeks. I smile and take the first bite of my toast, which has gone cold.

***

Ethan stands in front of the door, looking at us while nibbling the inside of his cheek. He’s holding an A3 sized board in his hand and an electric pad in the other. Four boxes are lined at his feet, one dedicated to each of us.
“First,” he says “schedules. On this board is your rota, including training sessions with which instructor. You will leave the premises every two months for activities that are not your concern, for now at least. Meal times are shown, as are off days. Follow this closely, or you’ll be in trouble.” He hangs the board on a hook lodged in the door, when it hangs in a central position. We all take a good look.

You will have training sessions for four days and a day of rest. All sessions start between 7am and 7:30am, until given time.

Day 1, 7am: Three hours of combat training �" Perry Jenkins
Day 1, 1pm: Two hours of gun and blade practice �" Tyler Jones

Day 2, 7:30am: Four hours of target practice �" Silver Dawson
Day 2, 2pm: Four hours training in assault course �" Perry Jenkins

Day 3, 7am: Three hours of pain transmitting �" Silver Dawson
Day 3, 1pm: Two hours of fear transmitting �" Silver Dawson

Day 4, 7am: Two hours of intelligence transmitting �" Tyler Jones
Day 4, 2pm: Two hours of athletic training �" Perry Jenkins

I frown. “Why aren’t you marked for training us?” I ask, looking at Ethan.
He smiles. “I do the watching. I’ll record your progress and monitor your pain and emotional levels. I don’t do the whole training thing.”
“Pain transmitting?” Tilly croaks, her face ashen. Ethan just laughs, and I clench my fists. However, the idea of pain transmitters scares me, too. What will they do? Prod us with needles, stab us, maybe even shoot us? The mere thought of it makes me sick to my stomach.
“What the hell is intelligence transmitting?” DJ demands, folding his arms.
“It’s self explanatory, so obviously you won’t be doing well in that one.” Ethan smirks, licking his lips. He looks at us like we’re a freshly prepared meal, and it makes me anxious. “Now, here I have a box for each of you. It holds some possessions from your homes, and also the new clothing that has been dedicated to you. Knock yourselves out.” he leaves, and we dart for our boxes.
I fling the lid off, digging inside. Dark clothes greet me; dark blue jeans, dark shirts with range from blue to grey to black, a grey leather jacket and two pairs of black trainers with white laces. There are three pairs of jeans, five t-shirts and two jumpers, and, finally, my black hoody. A sob escapes my lips; I thought I’d never see that again. Putting the clothes in a pile, I look at the bottom of the box. I find my diary, an old, worn notebook with a leather cover. I also find a photo of my parents and I, huddled together. It was taken two years ago. Finally, I find my sketch book along with my drawing kit.
I never knew that we could receive items from home, and because I have everything I thought I’d miss, I find myself wanting to cry. I hold back, but Tilly lets herself go freely, muttering thank you to herself over and over.
An hour later, we have all placed our clothes away. I hadn’t noticed that the walls in here, mostly the back wall, consisted of cupboards that blended into the colour of the room, which somehow made the room even more graceful. I place my prised items, including my pebble, into a draw that almost disappears into the wall beside my bunk, and Cole does the same with the draw above my head.
For a moment I feel lighter. For a moment I feel content. But tomorrow is the first day of training, so I know that lightness will be short lived. But at least I go to lunch with a smile on my face, as do the others, and I have more of an appetite than I did this morning.
That will be short lived, too.