Chapter Nine

I’m still awake when I hear the door open, or at least half awake. I’m floating between the land of dreams�"or nightmares�"and consciousness, my body feeling lighter and my mind lacking its general thought process. However my senses are on high alert, my hearing in particular as well as my sense of smell.
The room is filled with the even breathing of my dorm members. I hear someone roll beneath their sheets, and my bunk shifts a little as Cole remains restless and unsettled in his sleep. But when the door cracks open ever so slightly, my lids part just a little in response. I see a figure, unclear through the fuzziness of my vision. Male, tall, a cigarette held between two fingers by his side. I fight the urge to screw my face up against the smell of smoke drifting into the room.
I think I’m unnerved; I can’t process my thoughts properly. Unsure of myself, I moan loudly and roll over, away from the intruder. A moment later I hear the man sigh, an irritated sound, before the door clicks shut again.
I just have time to think that he must be making sure the recruits are where they are supposed to be, so I fall asleep with ease.

***

“Rise and shine, H.” someone says, the voice matching Tilly’s. I groan in protest and bury my face in the pillow. Behind my lids I see orange, light clearly trying to break through to my vision. “Come on, it’s half six. We have to be at Silver’s session in an hour. Get up!”
“Alright.” I croak, just as Tilly yanks the covers away from my body. I yelp with the sudden cold, instantly coiling my body into a ball in response. She laughs, and I finally force my eyes open.
Ten minutes later I am tying the laces of my boots, my mind still fogged with sleep. For some reason I think I can smell smoke, but I don’t remember why. I don’t have time to think about it when there is a knock on the door.
DJ answers it and Max stands on the other side. “You lot ready? Thought we could go to breakfast together.”
“Okay.” Cole says, and the four of us file out while following Max.
We meet Kyle and Mike at the dining hall, already finishing off their meals. They look up and grin at me.
“Loving the wild hair, Harper.” Mike chuckles. I roll my eyes. Sleeping with damp hair hadn’t done me any justice. Silver had cut many short layers into it, so even though it curves nicely along my jaw, short locks of hair stick out from all angles.
“She pulls it off, though.” Tilly giggles. “I’d say, in American terms, she looks ‘smokin’ hot’.
“You’re funny, Fox.” I say, but I’m not laughing. The others laugh anyway.
“Speaking of smoking,” says Kyle. “Carl Hayes is on the prowl.”
Carl, Carl... I remember almost instantly; he was the guy who locked us in the cells. I follow Kyle’s gaze like everyone else and spot the heavily scarred man by the doors, a soldier on either side of him. Armed soldiers. I swallow, hard. He seems more intimidating now, wearing an all-black uniform, his collar golden. His hair is swept away from his face, wax blending into the sandy strands. I watch as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette and a lighter and my heart stops.
He was in our room last night, I think.
Max takes my elbow and pulls me towards the buffet, her face shadowing concern. I’m stiff. I’m sweating. I’m nervous. Why was he in our room? Why was he watching us? Was he on some kind of evening watch? As I run through these questions I absently pick up a toasted bagel and two packets of butter and follow Max back to the table.
“You okay?” Cole says, touching my wrist.
“He was in our room last night.” I murmur.
“Who?”
“Carl.”
“You sure?” Kyle says, frowning.
“Positive, he had a f*g on the go.” I tell him, and he rubs his jaw thoughtfully.
“If I were you, I’d keep that to yourself.” he mutters.
“Why? He shouldn’t be lurking in our room late at night.” Tilly growls.
“Carl Hayes doesn’t obey privacy.” Mike says harshly. “He does what he wants when he wants, as he sees fit. He’s notorious around here, so I hardly think that looking in on you late at night is something life threatening. My Segment is filled with stories about him; the Rocky Segment was his original birth place. He was Selected when he was fourteen, and he was killing by the time he was sixteen.”
“How old is he now?” DJ asks.
“Twenty six, I think.” Mike shrugs, but his eyes remain guarded. He rakes his hand through his short brown hair. “Can we stop talking about this? Having Ethan threaten us was bad enough, I don’t want Carl breathing down our necks.”
“You know an awful lot for a fresh recruit.” Tilly says, cocking her head. Mike stares long and hard at her, and then grins.
“I’m twenty one years old, I’ve had years of listening in on things that I shouldn’t know anything about.” He winks. “I have a thirst for knowledge.”
“You’re implying that you know more.” Kyle mutters, glaring at Mike. Mike blinks, and then laughs.
“I know a lot of things, but nothing that should concern you lot. Change of topic.”
Everyone is unconvinced, but we let it drop.
We finish in the hall ten minutes later and make our way towards the top floor, where we know that all the training rooms are stationed. Just as an elevator opens for us, pink catches my eye as Jay rushes towards us.
“Hey.” I say, smiling. It quickly vanishes.
“Hi.” she mutters, but I barely hear her. The left side of her jaw is swollen, heavily bruised. Max’s eye looks like it had just a few more days until there is no trace of the punch she suffered, but Jay’s jaw looks like it will take weeks to heal. She watches my eyes bulge along with everyone else’s and then covers the bruise with her hand. It does little to hide it.
“What the hell happened to you?” Tilly demands, swiping Jay’s hand away to get a better look.
“Nothing!” Jay shouts, turning away.
“Well obviously something did! Who punched you? Who was it?” Tilly insists, anger flaring in her eyes.
“Why do you care?” Jay says, tears pricking her eyes. “Why do any of you care?” We say nothing, and I gently push Tilly away from the child. Jay automatically stands behind me, shielding herself away from the others, and grasps the hem of my t-shirt for support. Kyle and Mike exchange looks, which are then shared with my dorm members and Max.
“Leave her.” I tell Tilly. “She’s been through enough.”
“We don’t know what she’s been through.”
“Whatever happened, we’re going to prevent it next time. Okay?” After a moment they nod, just as Jay begins sniffling.
I try not to let whatever happened to Jay distract me. I know by the way she is squeezing my wrist that she is too frightened to talk about it. I have my suspicions, though�"Jay has no friends here, and she is one of the smallest. An easy target. I must remind myself that this isn’t a holiday; people are going to get hurt here, particularly the weaker members.
I know the culprits as soon as we enter the training room. It is the same one we were in yesterday afternoon with Taylor, only now the walls are lined with over twenty targets. Some are the basic round ones seen in archery, others are cut out in the shape of a person, where red circles are stationed on either the forehead or the chest. But I don’t focus on them. Tony stands among a group of six others, demonstrating a punching motion and an exaggerated scream. His audience laughs, three girls bending over while the boys clap him on the black through tears of laughter. I feel Jay stiffen behind me.
“He did it.” I say. I don’t need to look to know she’s nodding.
“Son of a b***h.” Tilly snarls.
“No... don’t...!” Jay protests, but I am already striding towards Tony. I don’t even think about it. Rage is souring through my veins, burning me, and I think I see red. I know what he’s trying to do. After embarrassing him yesterday by exposing he was not good in combat, he was out to prove everyone otherwise. I barge through a group without apologizing, and Tony’s eyes meet mine mid laughter.
“What’s wrong, Harper? You look a bit flushed.” he sneers. His ‘friends’ part to let me through, and my palms ram into his chest. He stumbles back a few steps and I repeat the action.
“What did she do? What did she do to make you punch her?” I demand, my voice not sounding like my own. People laugh around me. “Come on! Tell me!”
“She didn’t do anything.” he says, flexing his hand. I notice that his knuckles are red and slam my hands against him for a third time. He catches my wrists and holds them above my head, yanking me closer as he does.
“Did it make you feel powerful?” I snarl, not fighting him as there is no point. “Hitting a kid? Did it make you feel like a soldier?”
“It did, actually.” he smiles. “You see, it wasn’t her I was actually hurting. I was getting at you. You were always too selfless for your own good.”
I swallow back a scream. “Do me a favour?” I spit. “Before you get at me, remember who almost broke down in tears at the Line Up. Maybe you need to hit yourself where it hurts before other people.”
His jaw sets, and I know he is thinking about Ant. He collects my wrists in one hand and draws back the other, which is now clenched in a fist. Someone shouts my name in protest, another threatening Tony’s life. I barely notice Cole and Mike trying to pull him off me, but Tony and I seem to be trapped in a world of our own. I watch his fist, waiting for the blow. When it comes sailing towards me, I close my eyes.
The girl with blue eyes appears again, and I finally know why she haunts me so much. Tony and me have been in this position before, a few years ago. We had been twelve, the girl probably nine or ten. He’d been trying to rob her of her money while she shopped for bread in the town centre, so much so he had knocked her to the ground. I’d jumped in to defend her, partly because of her innocent, partly to distract him from his goal. I’d ended up with a punch in the gut, but I didn’t care. He didn’t get her money and simply fled.
His fist collides with my cheek, the wounded one at that, and I cry out in pain. Time returns to normal as people circle me, their hands on me as someone shouts that I’m bleeding. I scream, but not in pain. Scrambling to my feet I lunge for Tony, my hands reaching for his throat like I had envisioned in the confinement cell. People shout, some in encouragement and others in dismay. I ignore than and grasp Tony by the hair, knocking him to the ground with all the power I possess. He grabs my legs and takes me down with him. He quickly stands, draws back his foot, and ploughs it into my stomach. Once, twice, three times.
I see black blur in the borders of my vision. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe! Pain, pain everywhere. My body already aches from yesterday, but this is agony. I scream and cover my face�"it’s all I can do.
“Enough!” someone roars, and everything stops. I open my eyes in time to see Ethan dragging Tony away before shoving him to the ground, holding him there with his boot on his chest. Someone helps me up, carefully pulling me away. It’s Silver.
“Are you alright?” she asks, but the question sounds stupid in my ears. No, no I’m not. I am trembling, blood is trickling down my cheek, my body feels like it is about to fall apart. Everything hurts yet I can hardly feel it.
“Get off me.” I snap, pushing her away.
“Someone take her to get cleaned up.” Silver shouts. “Now!”
Max rushes forward. Her arm wraps around my waist to steady me as she guides my arm over her shoulders. I barely notice DJ, Tilly and Kyle standing as still as statues, their faces lacking their usual colour. I look away, and I suddenly feel ashamed. I should have known better. I should have had more control.
Jay appears on my other side and grabs my hand. “I’m sorry.” she says. “I’m so, so sorry.”
I say nothing as she lets go, Max walking me through the doors.
In a bathroom down the hall, I stare at my reflection. My hair is messier, but not in a good way anymore. Hair falls into my eyes, some of it sticking to my cheek with the fresh blood. I feel it now, the stabbing pain that attacks every inch of my body. I look like I am ready to scream, and Max quickly sits me on the floor.
“You’re an idiot.” she scolds as she wets some paper towels under cold water.
“I know.” I croak.
“No, you don’t. Until you build some muscle, you cannot go up against Tony. He’ll crush you harder than he did today!” she kneels before me and dabs the wet material to my cheek. The stings halt for just a second but hits with an added tenderness, and I hiss through gritted teeth.
“I can’t let him hurt other people just to get at me.” I snap, hissing again when she wipes my cheek clean.
“You’ll have to. Let the mentors deal with him. Once you can fight, the two of you can rip each other’s throats out with pleasure.”
The door opens then, and Ethan pokes his head in. “Sorted?”
“Yes.” we say, Max helping me to my feet.
“Good. Get to your session.” he orders, stepping back to let us past. He doesn’t look at me, only Max. “Who started it?”
“Tony. He attacked Jay to provoke her.” Max tells him, tugging me along. He shoves past us and strides down the corridor, slamming his way through the doors. We pause as he grabs Tony by the collar and pulls him roughly along. Ethan’s eyes meet mine, and the anger in them in unmistakable.
“Eyes away.” Ethan snarls, but not to me. He harshly pushes Tony’s head down so that he is looking at the floor, and the pair disappears around the corner leading to the elevators.

***

Silver has me sit out for the session, and I sit at the far wall feeling sorry for myself. As everyone takes turns in throwing knives (not their own) at the desired targets, I try my best to calm myself down. I want to cry, or scream, or run. But nothing seems to fit. Instead I am at a loss, scared by my own anger and what it provokes me to do.
And guilt is heavy.
After realising who the blue eyed girl was and why she scared me out of my sleep, guilt weighs down on me. I hadn’t even known who she was. When she looked at me for the last time, I didn’t recognise her. I could have held her hand, done something to soothe her during the Line Up, but instead I ignored her completely.
I smack my head against the wall until I hear ringing in my ears. The door opens and Ethan slips inside, looking far more composed. He stands beside me with a quick glance, and then focuses on everyone else. Someone shouts in frustration when they miss the target.
“You’re going to lag behind.” he says after a while.
“I can’t find it in me to care.” I answer.
“You should care. This is your life we’re building, you should care about everything we do.” he protests, slipping his hands into his pockets.
“I don’t know what life you’re building for me; I can’t care about something I know nothing about.” I murmur. “But I do care about one thing. What have you done with Tony?”
“That has nothing to do with you.”
“He assaulted me and an innocent girl. Both actions were to hurt me one way or another. It has everything to do with me.” I snap, finally looking at him head on. He stares back, his expression giving nothing away. I notice a scar cuts along his nose, and I look away again.
“He’s paying for his offence, that’s all you need to know.” He’s quiet for a moment, and I feel his eyes trained on my cheek. “How’s the cheek?”
“None of your concern.” I growl, covering it with my hand. I wish I had long hair to hide it easier.
“I have every right to punish you for showing no respect towards me.” he says, his tone shifting to something sinister. I glare at him.
“Then why don’t you?” I demand, gritting my teeth. He smiles, but it’s forced.
“Because what good will that do if you don’t fear me?” he taps his chin and makes a thoughtful sound. “I suppose Perry could do it for me, or Carl.” The mention of Carl makes me feel sick, but I don’t show it. Instead I look ahead, training my gaze on Jay’s back. Her muscles move beneath her t-shirt as her body propels the knife towards the target. She is short of hitting the chest. Her stance is rigid, but I can’t decide whether it is out of determination or something deeper such as anger. Or fear.
“Don’t threaten me with meaningless names.” I say through gritted teeth. He chuckles.
“Now I know why Silver likes you.” he says more to himself than me. I look at him, frowning. He chuckles again. “You have a backbone.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
He kneels next to me and stares at me with intense green eyes, and my palms begin to sweat. He’s too close. I hate it when he’s close. “People who have a backbone are the hardest to break.” he murmurs. “I should know.”
He gets up before I can respond, and the last words beginning spinning in repeat in my head. I should know. I push the thoughts from my head, refusing to dig any deeper into them. Digging only seems to get me into trouble these days.