Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

When I wake up the next day eggs and bacon are waiting for me on the floor. The steak and potatoes from the previous night are gone. I ignore the gnawing hunger and kick the tray of food over. The eggs and bacon spill all over and make a huge mess on the floor. The door opens and a man walks in. He looks at the mess on the floor and then at me. He sighs and picks a key out of his pocket. The man starts to approach me. I pick up the tray and bring it back behind me so I can hit him if he gets too close.

                “I’m just unlocking your shackles,” he says.

                I glare at him but drop the tray. He shakes his head and murmurs obscenities under his breath. He unlocks the chains and grabs my hand. I let him lead me out of the cell and walk me down the corridors of the base. I make sure to mark every turn in my mind and how many steps we take. I probably won’t remember, but it’s worth a shot in case I get out.

                He stops in front of a wooden door and opens it for me. When the door opens, no one looks back at me. Their attention is on two students battling. Both of the participants are boys, not surprisingly. I raise an eyebrow at the fighting styles, however. The boy with black eyes and hair is quick, but his punches and kicks are weak. The other fights like a robot of the Feds. He’s also very fast and effective in his hits, but against a Drailer, I know he’d die. To get a feel of how to fight a Drailer, you have to simulate one.

                The boy with fiery red hair delivers a left hook to the other boy’s mouth. It sends him hard to the ground. The instructor smiles at the flame headed boy and then looks at me. His smile immediately disappears. The guard behind me releases his grip on my arm and pushes me to the front of the classroom.

                The instructor doesn’t hold out his hand to me as I stand in front of him. He stares at me with hate filled eyes. “Is this Sloane?” 

                “Who else would I be?” I say.

                I notice the red head and the other boy have returned to their seats. The only empty seat is next to the winner of the fight, and I’m filled with dread. The instructor seems to read my expression.

                “Go sit next to Talon. He’s the one with the red hair in the back of the classroom.”

                I look back at the teenager. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s glaring at me. I narrow my eyes and walk back to take my seat. People lean away from the aisle. They act as if I’m some sort of contagious disease that they might catch if they get too close. After I take my seat, the red head scoots as far away from me as possible. I roll my eyes.

                The instructor returns to the lesson he was teaching. I tune part of his voice out, but I get the general idea. He’s talking about how Drailers fight. I raise my eyebrows at some of his comments, such as when he talks about how their mind works. He says a Drailers mind has been changed from normal to psychotic because of radiation. Partly true, but they go insane because the Federation makes them insane and uses them for weapons. He tells one side of the story, making it seem as if the rebels and Drailers are being helped by the Federation and not destroyed. I don’t know how anyone could actually believe this crap, but I guess pampered lap dogs are easy to trick when you give them treats for believing it.

                “Drailers have no emotion. They are incapable of feeling anything towards you, or anyone regardless of the relationship you once had with them.”

                I raise my hand and he sighs. The teacher nods his go ahead.

                “Not all Drailers are that way,” I say.

                Almost the whole class laughs at that. I glare at some of them, specially the people who give me dirty looks.

                The teacher leans against the wall and says, “Well then, educate me.”

                I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes. “Have you ever met a boy named Ryan? He’s a few years older than me, saved me from the Feds and Drailers.”

                He thinks for a moment. “This wouldn’t happen to be one of your friends, would it?”

                “That’s exactly who it is,” I growl. “He is not like other Drailers. He can feel emotion and acts accordingly.”

                The red head next to me laughs. “Obviously he knocked you upside the head.”

                I snarl at him. He just glares at me. “He’s got more character than you,” I say, turning to the rest of the class. “More than all of us humans.”

                They all stare at me with questioning and judging eyes. I sink in my chair and mutter, “It’s not me who’s been knocked upside the head.”

                The man purses his lips and says, “That’s enough.”

                He goes on with the lesson after that about the Drailers, ignoring my better understanding of them. I stare at the desk the rest of the hour and a half, trying not to say anything I’ll regret.

                Once the bell rings and I start to hurry out of the class, the instructor grabs the back of my shirt and calls the red head over to him too. The instructor doesn’t let go until all the students are gone and the door closes behind them, cutting me off from any source to get away.

                “You do know that there is a certain mannerism we use here. Part of that is you never question the teacher in class.”

                I shrug. “What if they need questioning?”

                “Keep your mouth shut or suffer,” the boy says.

                I turn to him and raise my eyebrows. “They can try to keep me at bay, and all the rest of my friends, but they won’t be able to when they put us in combat.”

                He continues to stare at me with hateful eyes. “What makes you think you’re better than the rest of us?”

                “The fact I’ve actually seen a Drailer and fought one.”

                “That doesn’t prove anything.”

                “Proves I’m a survivor. Unlike all the Feds that get killed the first time out. They’re unprepared, just as you are.”

                “That’s enough out of you two,” the teacher says. “Sloane, watch your mouth. You’re speaking to the most qualified to go into the battlefield. You two are paired up. That means when we send one of you into combat, the other has to go. Every one of your friends from the city have one from here, although you will be put into different groups.”

                I glare at him. “You know, if I wanted a partner I would ask. I don’t need him.”

                Talon shakes his head. “You overestimate your abilities.”

                I raise my eyebrows. “Maybe so, but I have experience.”

                He stares at me, unable to say anything. The teacher just shakes his head and walks to his desk. “You may go. Both of you.”

                I give him a look and walk out the door. I slam it behind me and try to find my next class. The bell rings before I do and when I walk into the room, everyone, once again, turns hateful eyes and glares on me. I pick a desk in the back corner and stare at them all in turn. I don’t understand how they can hate me so much. They are the same as me. Human and alive. The only difference is that I have lived in the city wasteland the last few years.

                Or, it could be the scars on my face and body. It could scare them. Scare them senseless about what their future with the Drailers holds.

 

I’m in the lunch room when a fight breaks out. None of my Crew is here besides me. Even as I keep an eye out for them, it soon becomes clear they intend to keep us from seeing each other for a while. The other kids sit far away from me except for a polite few. The red haired boy is with some other people. There are only a handful of girls here. I counted maybe seven, and none of them are too nice. They seem cold and heartless. Perhaps that’s the only kind of girl or woman the Feds will hire to do a “man’s” job. They clearly think lowly of females.

                Once lunch is over, I head to the arena. The room is filled with weapons of all kinds. Even some I don’t recognize. The bleachers could probably hold the whole school and more if anyone actually fought a Drailer for real in the arena. I shake my head. They’d probably die, and then they’d have a real problem.

                I survey the actual arena next. The controls are on a long panel with blinking lights and switches. I couldn’t begin to guess what they’re for. The arena is like a big dome. Steel beams form a concave roof over the arena while the mesh provides reinforcement to keep whatever is fighting in the arena fighting in the arena. The floor is metal and the ten foot walls are made out of the same material. All in all, it’s way too fancy to fight in for my taste.

                The class piles up in the bleachers to await the instructions of the teacher. I quickly realize that in this class there are cliques that are spread throughout one section of the bleachers. I cannot distinguish the difference in the cliques but know that I am not welcome in any of them. A corner of the section is deserted, so I start to climb up and catch some stares along the way. After I sit down, the teacher starts to take roll. He doesn’t even call my name because he knows who I am. You’d have to be sleeping under a rock if you didn’t.

                After the roll is called, the teacher tells the students to go pick out a weapon they think best suits them. Most of the students are up even before he finishes. I walk by myself to the tables and look at the weapons.  Guns, swords, knives, slingshots, bows, and many other weapons that I’ve never even seen before sit there. I shake my head. Truly efficient soldiers, in my opinion, would know how to use all these weapons, not only one. I pick up a short sword and sling it over my shoulder, three knives, attaching one to each forearm and one to my left calf. I also pick up a gun, just in case, and put it in my pocket.

                I look at the other students. Most of them go for the bigger weapons and heavier ones. Obviously they haven’t been taught right in the battle system. You take what suits your body, not what you think is the best weapon to use. If you take a weapon what doesn’t fit the way you move or size or strength, you’ll die in the battlefield. It’s as simple as that to me, though many will not realize this until their dying moments.

                The people that battle in the arena are horrible. They are clumsy and inefficient with their weapons. I watch the teacher congratulate the victor of every match and see the sincerity in his eyes of his congratulations. I have to keep myself from laughing at this because of the trouble I would get in. Even the flame headed boy, the one who has won the last two battles I’ve seen, is clumsy. He fights with a broadsword, a long dagger, and there is a shield on his back. I shake my head. He is barely two inches taller than me and he’s barely bigger than me. He shouldn’t be fighting with that, but lighter weapons, because he’s small and thin like me.

                But he’s a boy. He probably wouldn’t like me, a supposed traitor of the human race and above all, a girl, telling him how to correct his battle style and how to pick his weapons.      

                When it’s my turn to battle, the person the teacher has paired me up with refuses to fight me. I turn an angry glare on the girl. She returns it, but the wildness in my eyes makes her look away and shudder. I look back at the teacher, and give him a suggestion that will change the way the school looks at us humans from the city.

                “How about you get in the arena with me?”

                He snorts. “That’s strictly against the rules. Especially with your status.”

                I shrug. “I understand if you’re scared.”

                The teacher glares at me. “I’m never scared. It’s just against the rules.”

                Again, the people of the Federation lie. “Whatever.” I turn back to the girl who refused to fight me. “What about you, little girl?”

                She crosses her arms over her chest. “I only have to tolerate you. I don’t have to interact with you.”

                I shrug again and lean back on the bleachers. The fights continue just as I continue to observe. Once that period is over, I’m happy when Talon doesn’t talk to me and just leads me to the lunchroom again. I get my food and look around. I smile slightly and  It’s not hard to find my friends. Half the table is empty and the ones around it are vacant.

                I take a seat at the table and meet their gazes. Ryan, always assessing and still recovering, is keeping an eye on his surroundings. He says his hello and gives me a look that says we’ll talk later. Sean on the other hand is just staring ahead, drawing shapes on the surface of the table.

                “You guys are certainly full of energy today.”

                Sean glances at me. “Well, being denied access to practical things, like a simple shower for the first time in years, is getting to me. “ He shakes his head. “Just because we fought on the streets.”

                I stuff my mouth with some peaches and say, “And they all think we are diseased or something. That part suits me just fine, though.”

                “As it does us.”

                I nod, knowing that that’s where the conversation of lunch is going to end. I take that time to look around the cafeteria. There’s a lot of conversation droning on in the room. I’m definitely not close enough to hear it, but something tells me they’re talking about us and all the gossip they can. Nothing that surprises me.

                Talon makes his way across the room and sits with a group that consists of mostly girls. I’m not surprised. He seemed like a lady’s man. But who I am I to judge?

                The bell rings. Sean and I say goodbye while Ryan just walks off. I’m dumbfounded by that, but I try not to let it bother me. I get to Talon by following his red head and find that the next class is navigation. Wonderful.

                This class isn’t any different from the others. The teacher mostly ignores me, as does the other students. I keep myself entertained by looking out the window. The wind isn’t blowing too hard so the dust isn’t being blown around too much. I feel a homesickness all of a sudden. I miss the fresh air of the outside world. I sigh, not realizing where I am at the moment, and look back at the teacher.

                “Freak,” I hear someone mutter.

                The whole class stifles laughter. Even the teacher. I pretend to not have noticed and stare back out the window. This class goes by very slowly. There’s not much I don’t know about reading a map. It’s not that hard.

                After that class is over, I’m recruited to go back to the little cage I was in. The man that puts me in there now stays in there with me. I raise my eyebrows, not understanding.

                “Why are you in here?”

                He doesn’t respond. I wait a few seconds to see if he will ever respond. When he doesn’t, I already start to get frustrated.

                “Why’d they put you in here?”

                He continues to stare at me. Then he says, “Because I wanted a closer observation of you.”

                “Why?”

                The man taps his fingers on the floor. “You’ve been told you’re a special case right?”

                I nod.

                “Well, because of the reason why you are, you interest me.”

                I look at him. “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to kill you?”

                He shrugs. “Of course, but, like you, curiosity gets the better of me every time.”

                I stare at him, partly flustered that he knows about me and considers us to be alike. It makes me feel like he thinks I am like one of the Feds puppets. “Fine.”

                We both jump when a siren goes off. My handler scrambles for the leash and throws it at me. “Put it on now. I have to take you somewhere.”

                I do as he says and let him lead me to a room. I see a five year old girl standing in the middle of the hallway. I stop dead in my tracks. My handler, not being able to pull my dead weight, stops to follow my line of sight. His jaw drops.

                The little girl bares her fangs at me and I can’t help but walk towards her. She stops glaring at me and that crazed look Ryan gets fades a little. I hold out my hand and she stays where she is. I can see the mistrust she has. She’s the little girl I failed to protect when the Feds came for us. I drop to my knees and feel the tears once again burning against my eyes, fighting to escape. I dig my nails into my legs and shake.

                “I’m so, so sorry,” I whisper.

                The little girl snarls and starts to run towards me, fangs barred. I don’t dare raise a hand against her. This little girl, so innocent and fragile and precious, has now been tainted and sentenced to death. That anger starts to run like ice through my veins. I can feel myself tremble with it. I let her hit me full force and let her sink her teeth into my shoulder.

                “I won’t hurt you,” I say. “I love someone who is the same as you.”

                She takes a moment to look up at me. I know she remembers me.

                “They hurt me! You let them hurt me!” she screeches.

                The little girl’s talons fly too close to my face. One of them nicks my cheek. I can feel a small line of blood run down it. She starts to flail and I take her wrists into my hands. I pin her down on the floor as gently as I can and put both her wrists into my one fist. I brush the mangled hair out of her face and give her a tight smile. I can feel my whole being screaming out to her, trying to reach the remnants of the human lost.

                “I’m here now, baby girl,” I say. “I’m going to get you out, with Ryan, and he’s going to teach you how to control it so you can be human again.”  

She looks at me like seeing me for the first time. She grabs onto me like a vice and scratches me skin. I wince but keep it in for her sake. I look at my handler. His face is amazed at me. He points to the little girl and looks at her in wonder. I realize I don’t have to say anything for him to believe that not all Drailers are blood crazed and need violence. There’s still human in some of them.

                “How did you do that?”

                I smile somberly shake my head. “If you took the time to know my past, you would get how I did it.”

                My handler shakes his head in wonder. He inclines his head towards the door. “We need to go, then, before they find-“

                His words stop short as he looks behind me. I turn around, the five year old still clinging to me. I snarl at them. I put the girl down and push her behind me. The Feds point their guns at me. I squat down a little. I can tell the Feds don’t know what to do with me in the way of their target. They won’t shoot me.

                A man comes forward and keeps walking towards me. I give him a dirty look because he’s in a suit and looking at me with such a coldness I could have gotten frostbite. He stops a few feet from me and looks at my handler. I can tell he’s holding back bitter anger.

                “How did she get the kid?”

                My handler moves in front of me. I can’t tell if it’s because it’s expected of him or because he’s protective of me. “I let her, sir.”

                The man shakes his head. “She can’t get them or she won’t let us have our experiments. You know that.”

                “I also know how to work with them. I can teach her.”

                He laughs. “You can’t teach a beast.”

                I peek around my handler and at the man. It’s only then do I see the crest of the Federation on his pocket. I shudder with pure rage. My handler puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. I get the message but try to get past him anyway. He pushes me back.

                “She’s not a beast. She’s a human.”

                “She’s a monster.”

                My handler lets go of me. “No more of a monster than you or I. We help make them.”

                The man purses his lips and glares at my handler. “Give me the little girl.”

                My handler turns to me. The five year old clings to me and I glare at him. My handler puts a hand on my head and seems to look right through me.

                “If you want to protect the people you love so much, you’ll let her go.”

                I look up at him. “How is that protecting what I love when I’m handing them over to the monsters who want to destroy them?”

                He smiles, sorrow dripping from his eyes like tears. “I’ll make sure this little girl doesn’t get tested again. I promise.”

                I look him up and down. Even if it is against my instincts, something about him makes me trust him. “You better hope you keep your promise.”

                The little girl looks up at me with horror when I tell her what’s going on.

                “No!” she screams. “Don’t leave me!”

                I hug her close. “You’ll be fine. See this man?” I point to my handler. She nods. “He’s going to protect you when I can’t, okay?” She nods again. “Be good. If they try to test you, fight back. They don’t own you.”

                She nods and gives me one last hug. I kiss her head and send her to the man. The hate in her eyes is as plain as mine. The man takes the little girl’s hand. She looks at it and rips hers from his. I can tell why she ran away.

                The man looks at me. “Be grateful your handler has a soft spot for beasts he can’t control.”

                I shake my head. He really doesn’t know my handler then. My handler does have a way with people like me.

                The man leaves with the girl. She looks back at me and waves. I wave, holding back my own rage still. Once she disappears, I look at my handler. He looks at me.

                “Well, looks like you just solved the problem.”

                “What problem?”

                “The problem that set the siren off, although I’m on your side when it comes to the experiments, you know. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you.”

                I glare at him. “I’ve heard that before many times and in the end I always get hurt.”

                He shrugs. “People aren’t perfect, including you.”

                I glower. “As far as you know.”

                My handler laughs and waves his hand to follow him. I do, and we go back to my room. He stays outside to talk to some other people. I go to the corner of the room and hug my knees to my chest. It seems like hours before I’m allowed to leave the room to see others. They wrap a collar like thing around my neck and lead me out of a door. My handler walks me into a fenced area outside of the building. He keeps me on a short leash and I look around. Mirrors surround the walls and I flinch when I see myself. I hadn’t realized how crazy I looked to the others.  My hair is a brown rats nest and my skin and face is smudged with dirt and browned with dust. My leg hair is long, as is my armpit hair, and my clothes are torn and dirty. I look like a rabid human.

                My handler throws me a towel, sets down a barrel of water, a razor and shaving cream, soap, shampoo, conditioner, and other beauty products including a brush for me. I look at them like they’re my enemy, which, in some sense, they are.

                Once my handler realizes I’m not going to clean myself up, he forces me to sit and starts scrubbing me clean. After he’s done, he shaves me and washes my hair and combs it. I can tell he doesn’t like doing it, but he seems to deem it necessary for the school. I watch in the mirror while he does it too. It seems as if he’s taming a beast he picked up off the streets, which, in theory, he was.

                I walk forward to the mirror once he’s done. I don’t recognize myself. And it’s not just the way he’s turned me into something that looks manicured and perfect (besides the scars that mar my body), it was also that I looked clean.

                “Do you like the way you look?”

                I think for a moment. “It is very different.” I touch the mirror and see the other me looking back. It blinks when I do and moves when I do. I had almost forgotten how I had loved the mirror before the Drailers got out. I mess up my hair a little bit and look back in. “That’s better.”

                I hear a laugh behind me. I whirl around and glare at him, already knowing who’s at the door. He walks in as arrogant as all the trainers. A smirk lines his lips and he looks at the handler that led me in here. The one I’ve come not to hate so much. The handler stands up and whispers in such low tones I can’t hear. They are discussing someone. After a few exchanges I can’t stand it anymore.

                “What are you two talking about?” I growl.

                My handler looks back at me with compassion in his eyes. “He’ll be your handler for a couple days. I am being reassigned to another rebel that just came in.”

                I look from one to the other then back at my handler. “You do have a way with us so that we don’t just kill you in your sleep while we can.”

                There is no way in the world I’d admit to him he was my favorite Fed puppet here, but my handler was smarter than that. He smiles slightly and looks at Talon.

                “Be careful. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

                He shrugs the comment and warning off like I’m not a threat. My handler looks at me like he’s scolding a child for a future disobedient act. It’s like he knows what I was going to do before I even thought it.

                “I can take care of her. She’s just a rebel girl.”

                I take a couple steps forward. My handler steps in front of me and grabs my shoulders. I’m arms length away from him. He must know if I so chose I could kill him with my bare hands.

                “Don’t do anything stupid. You want your freedom, don’t you?”

                I nod. I had forgotten if I hurt anybody I would be confined to a cell. “Yes, but why him?” I say, pointing to the boy.

                My handler gives me a wry smile. “Why else but to piss you off?”

                He pats me on the head and turns around. “Do anything to provoke her or hurt her progress, and she won’t be the only one out to get you.”

                This brings a smile to my face. I’ve made a friend in the Federation base. Who knew?

                Talon glares at the handler. “Are you threatening me? That’s a capital offense.”

                “What threat?” I say. “I didn’t hear anything.”

                My handler smiles at me for real and turns to Talon. “I didn’t utter a word.”

                He walks out of the room and locks the door behind him, leaving me alone with the b*****d of the decade. Talon picks off the leash on the wall and walks over to me. He raises his hands to put it on. He must think I am seriously stupid from lack of education on people, enough to let him get his hands anywhere near my neck. I duck out of the way.

                “What are you doing?”

                “Making sure you don’t hurt me,” I say, standing on all fours on the floor. “Just in case.”

                Talon glares at me. “Fine. You put it on.”

                I take the leash from him and wrap it around my neck. I hand him the long part back and he drags me to the door. He leads me through the hallways and back to my “room”. He shuts me in, not even bothering to sit in with me like my handler, and I know he is watching everything I do, so I give him the middle finger.

                I curl up in the corner and look at my skin. I’m not used to seeing it so white yet. I probably stare at it for a good five minutes, trying to process my actual pigment. I look up at the bed and climb on. I curl up and try to close my eyes and sleep with Talon watching me. I turn away from the window and stare at the white wall. It makes me dizzy.

                I close my eyes and wait for the sleep spells to come, unnerved by the five year olds monstrous face that pops into my head.

 

The next time I’m in a classroom is when my permanent handler comes back. Three lovely scars run down his neck to below the collar of his shirt. He can’t tell me where he was, but he says it was a hassle and someone I know. I suspect Ryan right away. I ask him how he subdued him, and my handler says the same way he did me. By helping us believe he really cared about what happens to us. I’m still not sure if my handler is a friend I can trust or not, but for now, he hasn’t proved to me I couldn’t.

                My handler leads me to a hallway that has probably the most people I’ve seen in one place since the Drailers got free. He led me to a big list and finds my name on it. He nods his head, like he’s not surprised at whatever these lists mean. He leads me back out of the crowd with a smile on his face. I raise my eyebrows.

                “You are going to love this.”

                I see a devious glint in his eyes, and I know he’s one of us. “Love what?”

                “You and Ryan and Sean are on the same squad.”

                A smile blooms like a flower in early spring on my face. “Are you serious?”

                He nods. “Yes I am. Although, there is one thing about it you might not like.”

                “What’s that?”

                My handler taps his chin. “Um, well, I’m also on your squad.”

                “You fight?”

                He smiles and shakes his head. “No. That’s exactly my point.”   

                I think about it for a moment. “Then why are you on one of the squads?”

                He shrugs. “A handler for every squad, but usually the handler can fight.”

                I look at him. “Well, we can teach you. Or we can try. Although, you could try being the medic. That might be helpful in the future.”

                He nods. “Sure. I’ll give it a whirl.”

                A small laugh escapes me and he leads me to a small room. Ryan’s already there. Energy surges through me and I race into his arms. He hugs me tight and kisses the top of my head. I breathe deeply. I missed his scent, even if it does remind me of the other Drailers. I look up at him, and I realize he’s been recently cleaned too. His hair is a dark brown and his skin is kind of a caramel color. I run my fingers over the bare skin on his arms and enjoy the feeling without the dirt and mud caked on it. So soft, despite the scars.

                He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “I missed you.”

                I shudder. The hot breath from his mouth washes over me. I grab onto him tighter and kiss his neck. Ryan holds me at arms length, taking me in. He stops breathing for a second.

                “So beautiful.”

                The door opens and we both look to see Sean enter. He nods to both of us and looks at my handler. I can see the disgust in his eyes. “So this is the handler that’s supposed to be in our group.”

                Ryan has a look of uncertainty I’ve never seen before. He pulls away from me and walks over to Sean. “Well, for the time being, I think we can trust him.”

                Sean looks between me, Ryan, and the handler. “Fine. If you say it’s ok, I’ll believe it until he proves us wrong.”

                My handler remains quiet, which is probably for the best in this situation. Sean comes over to stand by me as Ryan proceeds with questioning my handler about himself and why we’re on these teams.   

                “What’s your name?”

                “Jared.”

                Ryan walks to stand about a foot away from my handler. He’s much taller and looks so scary, even to me. “Why were we put on these teams?”

                “Battle simulations. The Federation likes to train us in real battle simulations. You start out battling the trainer. Once you beat the trainer, you battle a level one Drailer. Then level two. They don’t introduce you to level three until they send you out because they’re afraid of losing the trainees and the level three Drailer getting loose.”

                “Why were we all put on a team?”

                My handler shrugs. “My best guess is that they think so lowly of your friends’ abilities that they thought they wouldn’t survive. I was put here probably to become a hindrance to you because I know nothing about combat. Now you, Ryan, were put on this team probably because they thought you would turn on them if there was blood spilled, which, in their minds, makes sense. What they fail to realize is that all three of you have survived so many bloodbaths that the smell of human or Drailer blood has less of an effect on you.”

                Ryan processes this while Sean and I are standing here a little lost. We understand why the two of them were put on this team, but why we were is still a mystery to us. Sean is the first to speak.

                “So what you’re saying is that they put us all together on this team so we have a greater chance to fail and die.”

                Jared nods and looks at me. “Especially since they’re afraid of all of you. They think the first chance you get you’ll try and leave here, which is probably a very educated and close on target guess on their part.”

                I nod. “And because I’m a female.”

                He nods again. “They haven’t had the chance to see you all fight all out, and until you get to a third level Drailer, probably won’t. I’d say you actually have all the advantages. Besides me, of course.”

                Sean and I look at Ryan. It’s like you can see the wheels in his head spinning. “Well,” he says, “I think we have our inside man and analyst. Do you know anything about medicine?”

                My handler laughs. “Funny. That’s almost exactly what she said.”

                I smile. “My name’s Sloane, by the way. And this is Sean and Ryan,” I say, gesturing to each of them. “Just so we’re all introduced.”

                Jared smiles back at me. His attention shifts to Sean and he asks, “Is there anything I should know about these two before I make assumptions?”

                Sean smirks, finally warming up to the handler. “I think you should know by the way they greet each other.”

                My handler chuckles. “Interesting. How about your group?”

                Sean shrugs and looks to Ryan. “Well, you probably know all about us and our statistics. What do you want to know?”

                “Everything.”

                Ryan shakes his head. “That’s a lot to know. I think the only one who knows everything here is me. Not even Sloane knows everything. Sean is a recent addition that hasn’t been here very long and is just starting to learn about our pasts.”

                Sean nods. “Yeah, it’s very interesting how these two met. How they became lovers, however, is still a mystery to me and all the others.”

                I push Sean. “Shush!”

                He laughs and pushes me back. “Whatever. Long as it doesn’t hurt you I don’t see a problem with it.”

                “When’s the first match?”

                My handler thinks for a moment. “Probably within the hour. They’ll probably have us go within the first few battles. There’s only ten a day, which is about forty people. And since there is about two hundred that’s about five days that we’ll be holding the first battles. Then second is followed the same way and third. If you pass the third, your squad is commissioned for actual battle and purifying the cities with two other squads.”

                Hopefully we all understood that, and not just Ryan.

                “So, our only liability is you?” Ryan asks, more to himself than us. “Hmmm. Well, if you’re going to fight, pick something that doesn’t take a lot of skill or strength.”

                “Like a dagger. Or, if you can use one, a gun,” I add.

                Ryan glances at me and continues, “Or a very short sword. Sloane is our sniper and knife wielder since she doesn’t have as much strength as me or Sean. You could learn from her since you seem to be about her strength. We’ll build your muscles. I’m a heavy gunner and I use long knives or swords. Sean does the same as I, only I can use the claws and fangs they gave me.” He says the last part so angrily he spits a little. I can see the anger building in him.

                I go over to him and put a hand on his shoulder and stroke his thick hair. “It’s going to be alright. You can use what they gave you against them now and help us all escape and start again. We need to find others and defeat the Federation so we can stop the Drailers and create a better world for the little ones to grow up in. We can’t do that if you go crazy right now.”

                He calms down a little. That’s the speech I have to give him whenever his rage at the Federation is going to get the better of him. He puts a hand on my arm and looks back at my handler who’s standing there in awe.

                “Are you surprised that I haven’t killed any of our Crew yet?”

                My handler nods. “I am. It’s hard to accept the fact that I’ve been wrong all my life, and even though I love helping you guys, it’s also hard to accept that you could control your bloodlust though I am beginning to.”

                Ryan sighs. “Understandable.”

                We’re all quiet for a few minutes. Ryan is still calming down, me still stroking his hair. Sean is thinking about how the battle is going to work most likely, and my handler? I couldn’t even being to guess what he’s thinking. Probably something about how I could love or even be attracted to a level two Drailer in the first place. That wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve heard it every time we picked up a person.

                A bell rings. My handler lets out his breath. “Well, time to go.”

                We all follow him to the arena and find four seats in the third row, section B. The others start to fill in and it seems like forever before we see the President walk up to a podium and speak into the microphone.

                “Welcome to our annual testing day. I’ll make this little speech short and quick so you don’t have to wait forever to get to the fun part.” Some people laugh at this. Disgusting. “Most of you know the rules, but for those of you that don’t, I’ll explain briefly. Rule number one is do not kill the trainers. Pin them for five seconds and they’re considered dead. If you get paint, which is their weapons, on a part of your body that would have killed you, you don’t pass. Those are the only two rules. If they’re not a trainer or your teammate, kill it.” He smiles. “Squad thirteen,” he says, finding us in the crowd, “I’m sure you’ll start things off with a bang.”

 

About six months were all it took for us to fall into a steady routine, after becoming a little more comfortable with the idea that this monster was now my caretaker. He would leave me alone for most of the day to scout, collect cans of food, and hunt. What he brought back I turned my nose up at. It was a butchered dear. I almost threw up at the sight of it.

                I made him go out and get sticks and some rocks. After I peeled bark off the sticks I tried to light a fire with it, but I couldn’t strike it hard or fast enough. After about forty five minutes, I threw the rocks at the wall and almost broke down crying right then.

                The Drailer walks to the wall and picks up the rocks. He tries to do what I couldn’t. At first it doesn’t work, but after a few times of him trying he gets the rhythm and strikes a few sparks. The bark catches fire. I go over and blow on it to get it going. The glow of the fire warms my face and I am tempted to just burn myself right there to death. This world is no longer for me. The monster puts his hand on my shoulder. I freak out and he keeps me from going headfirst into the fire. He sets me upright and inclines his head towards the fire.

                “Don’t hurt yourself.”

                “Why not? I have nothing to live for anymore.”

                For a couple moments, he’s silent. “For the longest time I’ve had nothing to live for,” he says, staring into the fire. He squeezes my shoulder so hard it hurts. I groan to show it. He gives me an apologizing look. “Then I met the single human who will give me a chance.” He looks away looking a little embarrassed. “It gives me some hope.”

                I roll my eyes. “Hope for what? A better future?” I snort. “In this s**t hole?” I shake my head, anger surging through my veins. I take him by the shirt and shake him. “Do you know what people do to each other now? You cannot change them! They are the way they are. They made you. They made the monsters that terrorize me. That killed my family.” I push him backwards. He doesn’t fight back. He backs against the wall. “I HATE them. They took everything from me!” The first tears start to slide down my face. “They killed everything precious to me!” I walk up to him and stick my face in his. “How can you hope when there is nothing better to hope for!?”

                He takes the fist by my side and holds it up. “You think you are the only one who’s angry and hurting?” The monster grabs both my wrists and turns me around. He walks up behind me so that his body lightly presses against my back. He lowers his head so his mouth is right next to my ear. “Have you been turned into something to be feared?” he whispers. The being opens his mouth and presses a fang into my cheek. “Have you been altered to kill? To be a killing machine?” He moves his hand to my neck. “How would you feel if your family didn’t want you so they let you be a test subject? I’ve had it worse than you. That I can guarantee.” The monster turns me around and I can feel the heat and passion in the words spat so close to my face. “If you think hope is so stupid, why are you still here?”

                By the time he releases me, I’ve stopped breathing. He sits by the fire and holds the meat above it. After a few seconds, I decide to sit by the wall away from the fire. He glances at me but doesn’t say anything. The monster continues to cook the meat. I know he’s right, but the scared, pissed off part of me refuses to admit it.

                He’s done cooking now and he brings the meat over to me. “If that’s how you like it,” he says softly, “that’s how I’ll make it.”

                I hesitantly take it and bite into the meat. It’s good for his first time. I still gag a little. I wipe my eyes with my arm so I can see clearly. The monster sits next to me and puts the cooked meat into his own mouth. He wrinkles his face and spits it out. Normally I’d think it’s funny, but not right now. He scares me.

                The monster starts to chew slower on the meat and he looks at me. A feeling of distraught pumps through my overworked veins when he looks at me with his cool dark eyes. They are so calm and collected. He shifts so he can get a better look at me. I feel self conscious suddenly and hug my knees to my chest. I finish the meat while he continues to stare at me. I look into his eyes and at my reflection. It’s so clear it’d be hard to miss the terror and mistrust in my eyes.

                “Why are you afraid of me?” he says, moving closer.

                My stomach does front flips and a strange feeling in my chest makes the butterflies scatter. I just stare at him blankly. Not because I don’t know why, but because he instills the horror in me I’ve come to hate. He seems to realize this, so he backs away slightly.

                “Your kind killed my family and kills every living thing it touches. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t be scared.”

                He smiles revealing his long white incisors. The monster grabs my hand and puts it up to his. “What’s the difference?”

                “You have talons.”

                He shakes his head. “Besides that. What is different between your hand and mine?”

                I look hard. I look at the curves of his knuckles and the blood on his fingers. I wrinkle my nose. “Nothing.”

                He nods and gestures to my face. “What about our faces? Besides what they altered.”

                “Nothing is different.”

                “That’s why you shouldn’t be afraid.”

                I stare at him and shake my head. “That’s not a good enough reason. You’re still a monster.”

                His face falls and he retreats a couple feet. He looks at his hands and the blood on them. His eyes are full of sadness when he whispers to himself, “You have no idea how much so.”

 

The next week he avoids me. On the fifth or sixth day of his silent treatment, I’m sick of it. I’d rather have him talk than be quiet even if he does frighten me to death. When he comes back from gathering supplies like blankets and pillows and food, I approach him and, of all things, he ignores me.

                “Talk to me please?”

                He continues to stack the canned food in a pyramid against the wall. The monster doesn’t so much as turn. He continues to add cans to his geometrical masterpiece. I tap him on the shoulder.

                “Hello? Can you answer me?”

                The monster doesn’t say anything. He looks at me, hurt and sad. I run my hand through my matted hair.

                “Let it go. Jeez. I’m sorry alright?”

                When he doesn’t say anything once more, I go to the bolted and double locked iron door and start to unlock it. At first, he doesn’t do anything. Then, when the door starts to creak open, the monster springs from his place and is in front of me before I know what’s happening. He pushes me back from the door so hard I fall to the ground. He slams it shut airtight and locks and bolts it again. He turns around and looks at me with a very hot anger plain on his face. He picks me up by my arm and shakes me a little while he yells.

                “What are you thinking?” he snarls. “Are you trying to kill yourself or are you just trying to get the monster’s attention because you’re starved for it? Or are you just so unhappy to be alive you want to throw your life away? What would your family say? They want you to live!”

                I can feel my lip quiver before the monster even registers that he’s angry and hurting me. I start to weep in his grip. My legs give out from under me and he drops me. I hit the ground with my knees and I just sit there on my legs. I watch the tears slide down from my eyes and hit the ground with a large splash. One after another. It’s like a glistening waterfall of misery.

                “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

                He bends down and I look up at him. The monster raises his hand to my face. I flinch back and start to cry harder. He comes closer and wipes my eyes with his thumbs, careful not to get my eyes or skin with his talons. The monster sets me down by the wall and sits down next to me.

                “A wise person once told me that keeping your emotions in will just make you more miserable. You can cry in front of me without me judging you.”

                I look up at him through misty eyes. “Crying is weak.”

                He raises the back of his hand to his own eyes and sniffs. “No it’s not. Only real men and women aren’t afraid to cry in front of others.”

                I wipe my own eyes and look up at the monster. Tears are building in his own eyes. He looks at me and one rolls down his cheek. He looks so vulnerable and boyish I can’t help but reach up and wipe his own tears. When my face cups his cheek he closes his eyes and his body turns rigid. He puts his hand over mine and I can see the indecision in his face. I move closer and wipe more tears from his and my own face. I push his hair back from his forehead and kiss him on the forehead. He bolts upright and hits me in the chin. I cry out in pain and hold my chin. He looks like a deer in front of headlights when I look at him next. His breathing is rapid and uneven. I move close to him again.

                “Why are YOU afraid?” I whisper to him.

                He looks up at me with the expression of a sad dog. “How can you possibly accept me after what I’ve done and for what I am?”

                My hand finds his and I say, “Sometimes people are just drawn to things that don’t make sense.”

                The boy looks at me with a true innocence that makes my heart tear to shreds. “But I’m a monster.”

                I take his hand and put it on mine and lean my forehead against his. “Tell me what’s different,” I whisper, “then tell me that you’re a monster.”

                He does as I ask and says, “I’m still a monster.” He silences me with a look and goes on, “But a good one.”