Red Handed

by Gena Showalter

  "She's violent and bloodthirsty at least; I'll give her points for that," that clipped female voice said. And she sounded happy about the statement.

  They wanted me to be violent and bloodthirsty? Really, what the hell kind of place was this?

  "You always pick the violent ones, Mia," Deep Voice said. "I'm not sure this one's worth the effort, though."

  Bastard. "Who are you people?" I demanded. I pulled on the laser that bound my wrists together, trying to free myself so that I could remove the hood. But it hurt, and I stilled. Already the skin felt raw and irritated. Much more and I might lose a hand.

  No thanks.

  "We have a few more questions for you, little girl, then maybe you'll find out." Roses.

  My mom often called me "little girl" and it irritated me every time. Ryan had called me that, too. I wanted to call this guy "old man," but didn't dare. For all I knew, he had a gun pointed at my temple like I'd first feared. Or maybe he had a knife balanced over my head, ready to drop at any moment.

  "If she fails, kick her out," Mia said. "I want her to have a chance, at least."

  "I've read her file, and she's got 'problem' written all over it." Sweet Voice. The woman who had helped bring me here. Only she didn't sound sweet anymore. She sounded pissed. "I don't want to mess with her. New recruits are always a challenge, but she's hopeless."

  That hurt. I didn't know the woman, but her words hurt. I drew in a breath, wishing once again that I could see through the fibers of the hood. As it was, I couldn't even see a single ray of light.

  "Could you kill?"

  Silence.

  "Phoenix, could you kill someone?" the one called Mia asked.

  "What, you're talking to the lowly little girl now?"

  "Yes," she said without remorse.

  "I don't know," I replied honestly. The logical side of my brain told me that no one in their right mind would want a girl to admit to violent tendencies. In the real world, that would get me placed in isolation or lockup. After the "violent and bloodthirsty" comment, though...

  That night in the forest, I could have killed. Had wanted to kill. The Sybilins were evil, vile, destructive. They shouldn't be allowed to live or they'd hurt more people. But, would I be able to kill someone--something--else? A living being? "With or without provocation?" I asked.

  "Either."

  I sighed. "Maybe. Probably."

  A pause.

  "Are you afraid of pain?"

  "What do you think?" I answered dryly.

  The rustle of paper, the shift of a body. "Let's see." Deep Voice paused. "In the tenth grade, you were in a fight with a human female double your weight. You required sixteen stitches in your neck."

  "So."

  "So, most people are so afraid of pain they would not have challenged--or accepted the challenge--of someone larger than themselves."

  "She knifed me," I said, recalling that day. I'd been walking to class, minding my own business, and a girl I'd never spoken with had reached out and sliced my neck with a plastic kitchen knife she'd sharpened and honed.

  "He's mine," she'd screamed.

  Apparently, she'd wanted the boy I'd gotten high with the night before. Rumors had surfaced that we'd had sex, and she'd gone a little crazy. The moment I'd realized what she'd done, I had jumped her. Attacked, full force, unconcerned about her size or my lack of size. I'd had only one thought: stop her. She'd been aiming for my face, I'd later learned, wanting to scar me.

  I had a scar, but it stretched the left side of my neck and was covered when I wore my hair down.

  "In eleventh grade, you broke three bones in your wrist," Deep Voice continued.

  "Yeah. So?"

  "Again with the so," Roses muttered. "Explain how that came about."

  My fingers were beginning to swell from lack of movement so I flexed them as I spoke. "I was in a fight. Again."

  "For?"

  "A new girl at school called my friend a bitch. I reacted. It was dumb," I added. But I hadn't thought so at the time. I'd been coming down from a high, and I'd been enraged by everything and everyone. I would have attacked anyone for any ridiculous reason.

  "Any other questions for this girl?" Deep Voice asked.

  I knew he wasn't talking to me.

  Shuffle of feet, the squeak of wheels. I could picture these people--however many there were--huddling together and...yes, they were whispering. I heard the frantic rasp of their voices. I knew they were discussing me, my answers.

  "I don't think any more are necessary," Roses said with finality.

  Even though I strained, I couldn't make out anyone's response. Several minutes passed, and the whispering session became more heated. What were they saying? Kick me out and send me home? Please, please, please.

  "I have a question," Allison said loudly. Her words echoed off the walls, in my ears.

  "Let's hear it," Deep Voice told her.

  "It's not a question, really, but a situation. I'd like to know what she'd do."

  "Let's hear it," I said, mimicking the authority Deep Voice used.

  Ryan chuckled again, and again I felt the warmth of it.

  "You're in a dark alley," Allison said stiffly. "You're alone. You have no weapons. A group of Outers stumble upon you, and they obviously want your blood spilled over the dirty concrete. What do you do?"

  Everyone went quiet. The air became heavy with tension.

  "Why don't I have weapons?" I asked just to be difficult. She was trying to trip me up, I knew it. There had to be a right answer and a wrong answer, and everyone was waiting to hear which one I'd give. While a small part of me wanted to give the wrong answer so I'd (hopefully) be sent home, a big part of me wanted to give the right answer and knock her off her I'm-so-superior throne.

  "You just don't!"

  "Not even a barrette from my hair?"

  "No," she barked.

  More chuckles. Not just from Ryan.

  "What about a rock from the ground?" I asked.

  "No! Nothing. Just you and the men."

  "Are they armed?"

  "Yes!"

  "Are they tall or short?"

  "Tall! Stop stalling. What would you do?"

  "Look, I'm not stalling." And I wasn't--anymore. I think I knew the right answer. There was no way in hell I'd be caught in a dark alley with no weapons. But I didn't say that. "I'm just trying to get a clear picture of the situation. As to what I'd do, well, I know what I wouldn't do. I wouldn't fight them since they're tall men who could probably beat my bones into powder."

  When I didn't continue, Deep Voice prompted me. "So what would you do?"

  I shrugged. "I'd memorize their physical descriptions if possible, maybe grab something from them, a piece of clothing, a wallet, so they could be tracked later, and then I'd run like hell." Cowardly? Maybe. But staying alive was a little more important than looking brave.

  Allison snorted. I guess that's the answer she'd wanted to hear. "Would you smoke a Snow Angel while you were at it?"

  Before I could reply, Mia said, "I want her. She's just what this place needs. Logical, passionate, and determined. And like I said, you can kick her out if she doesn't work."

  Deep Voice sighed. "I knew you'd say that. But I have to agree with the others. The drug use...if she were to cause any of the others to become addicted..."

  Sweet Voice piped in. "This is a stressful program and an addict almost always caves during stress."

  "How many times do I have to say it? We'll test her. Every day if necessary. Until she fails, let's give her a chance. People with passion don't come around often, and how many of you can claim to have led perfect lives?"

  "Mia--"

  "Boss, she's got what it takes. I know it, and you know it. A chance is all I want for her."

  Silence. I imagined them staring each other down--because I didn't want to think about how their words were making me feel. Half-elated, half-beaten down.

  "Well, it's settled then," Deep Voice finally said with
a sigh. "She stays."

  In the next instant, my blindfold was removed. Light pierced my eyes, and I had to blink against the blinding brightness. Several strands of pale hair fell over my face. I blew them back.

  With a quick jerk, my hands were free, and I was able to reach up and scrub. The action hurt. My shoulders screamed in protest, and my hands trembled wildly.

  I didn't show a single ounce of my pain, though. I wouldn't let these people see any hint of weakness after they'd stripped my past bare and made it fodder for everyone in the room. Only one person here seemed to want me. The only other time I'd felt this low was when I sobered and recalled the way I'd treated my mom that day at school.

  What I hated most, however, was that they were right. I could start using again at any moment. I always had in the past. I liked to think I'd resist no matter what, but...

  Finally my vision cleared. I was unable to control my reaction as everyone came into focus. I gasped, shock pounding through me.

  I was in the center of an all-white cell. There were no exits. Lights hung from the ceiling, glowing, illuminating. A table circled me, pinning me in except for a small gap by the door. At each section of the table was a human. And there were fifteen of them.

  Roses stood beside me. Ryan, who looked as sexy as I remembered, was watching me with grim determination and...admiration? His dark hair was rumpled, and his bright blue eyes were fringed by feathered black lashes.

  My stomach tightened at the sight of him.

  Allison, who looked prettier than ever, was seated next to him. She was frowning at me. Beside her was an older man with thick silver hair and lightly tanned (and slightly wrinkled) skin. He wore a pair of black glasses over his eyes.

  On his other side was Sweet Voice. She, too, looked upset.

  There were several people I didn't recognize. A woman with long black hair and blue eyes that were so clear they were almost purple. She was beautiful, like a ballerina. Delicate. A woman with brown hair, hazel eyes, and physically perfect features was next to her.

  I'd never seen such loveliness in real life.

  The rest of the audience was comprised of men. All tall, all muscled, all fierce. All savagely handsome. It was as if everyone in the cell had come to life from a holophoto. And each and every one of them was now studying me as if they wanted to eat me for lunch and spit out my bones.

  One by one, they said, "Welcome." Only a few sounded happy.

  Sunglasses splayed his arms and smiled. "They've all welcomed you to A.I.R. training camp, but allow me to do so, as well. Welcome to your new home, Phoenix. For the moment, anyway."

  6

  I wasn't given time to react or learn the names of my interrogators. Immediately after issuing that eerie "welcome"--that wasn't really a welcome with the "for the moment, anyway" attached--Sunglasses motioned for Roses to usher me into another all-white cell, this one empty, devoid of even the circular table.

  Roses did as he'd been commanded, the wall splitting open and leading into a hallway that lead into another cell. He deposited me there, leaving me alone and locking me inside without a word.

  I stood there, shock pounding through me. How had this happened?

  I'd just been recruited for A.I.R. Alien Investigation and Removal. Me. Phoenix Germaine. A troublemaker, a former drug addict, and a girl who was unwanted by her own parents. An agent.

  Me, I thought again. It was...it was...I didn't know what it was.

  A.I.R. agents were the elite, the very best. They were tough and respected, immortalized in movies. And they wanted me to fight otherworldly crime, racing through the night and dodging laser beams and pyre-fire?

  A little dizzy, I leaned against the padded wall--padded for the crazies?--and slid to the floor. I anchored my head in my upraised hands. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. My mind frazzled with lightning speed, a whorl of thoughts and confusion.

  Did I really want this for myself?

  I was only seventeen. I hadn't yet graduated high school. How could I be an agent? It had to be one of the most dangerous occupations there was. Look at the Sybilins we had fought.

  What if I encountered worse?

  Was that what I wanted to deal with every day? Talk about stress.

  I'd never really considered my future. With my grades, college hadn't seemed possible. With my record, most jobs were out.

  "Dear God." The questions during the interview began, at last, to make sense. Could I kill? Could I deal with pain?

  A.I.R. agents fought without backing down, no matter the choice of weapons, no matter the injury inflicted upon them. That was why they were considered the best.

  Even the most depraved of predators trembled at the sight of them.

  What would my mother say if she knew where I was and what I'd been recruited to do? Did she know? She hadn't breathed one word about A.I.R. Did she assume this was simply a boot camp as she'd lead me to believe?

  Half of me thought, if she knew, she'd finally be proud of her little girl, trying to make a difference in the world. The other half of me, well, imagined her disappointment at learning her daughter was supposed to kill things for a living.

  Which was the right supposition? I just didn't know.

  Lost in thought as I was, I didn't realize the wall had split and someone stood there, watching me. "It's a lot to take in, I know," a voice suddenly said.

  I gasped and whipped my attention to the side. Ryan leaned against the side of the doorway. He was frowning, his arms crossed over his chest.

  "Yes," I managed, hating how breathless I sounded.

  He stepped toward me, and the door closed behind him. My heart kicked into gear as I hopped to my feet. "What are you doing here?"

  "I came to see how you're doing."

  "Not so good." More than the tone of my voice, I hated how hot he looked, how rugged, because he was older than me and probably viewed me as nothing more than a little girl. A druggie, loser little girl at that.

  "So..." He closed the rest of the distance between us and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Our gazes met and held, his blue against my brown--a blank slate against...what emotion was I showing him? Confusion? Shock? Pleasure that he'd come to see me? "What do you think?" he asked.

  My brow furrowed. "Help me out here. Exactly what are you asking my opinion about? What I think about you? Or the camp? Or A.I.R.? Or even the entire messed-up situation of being taken from my school and brought here in secret? What about the fact that you let my mom think I got high that night?" I added, anger heating my blood.

  "I'm sorry about that. I didn't want it to happen, but I didn't know your past at the time. I didn't know she'd just assume..."

  My cheeks burned.

  "We couldn't tell her the truth, Phoenix. The rest of the world can't know what goes on with predatory aliens. They'll panic. They'll loot. They'll kill innocent Outers on sight. You can't even tell your mother what we do here. Very few even know it exists. She thinks she sent you to an undisclosed location for tough love drug treatment."

  "Yeah, well, where do the parents of the other kids think their children have been sent?"

  "Programs for the gifted, the talented. Whatever fits their situation."

  How embarrassing for me. They were gifted and talented; I was the only loser. "Anyone like me ever been admitted before?"

  "No. You're the first. When Mia heard about you, she demanded you be brought in." Ryan cleared his throat. "We don't have much time. Let's talk about A.I.R."

  A minute passed in silence, and I used very second to think of a witty response. Nothing came to me. "I have so many questions. If I decide to stay here, where will I live? What's going to be required of me? What aliens will I be required to fight, and will I have to kill them now?"

  "You'll live here, with the other trainees. You'll be required to work hard, demonstrate loyalty and dedication. No drugs. You'll fight...no one," he said. He shrugged. "Not yet, at least."

  My jaw clenched at the "no drugs" bit. I didn
't comment, though. I reached up and massaged the back of my neck. "I don't understand. No fighting? But--"

  "You have to learn how to fight before you're sent into the field." He leaned his shoulder against the wall, and I caught the scent of woods and soap. A wonderful scent. The best I'd smelled so far. Better, even, than Roses.

  "This place really is a training ground, then," I said. "Like that guy said."

  Ryan nodded. "He'll never lie to you. No matter how brutal, no matter how harsh, he'll never lie."

  "What about school? I want to graduate." There had been a time when I hadn't cared if I'd finished school or not. In fact, I had preferred not to finish. But that had been a time when all I'd only wanted was my next high. I wasn't that girl anymore--no matter what everyone thought.

  "You'll graduate, don't worry. In a few days, if not tomorrow, you'll be given an efficiency test. If you pass, you'll be allowed to graduate high school early. If not, you'll be required to study after your combat, weapons, and alien classes."

  Great. If I failed the test, my workload would double. If I decided to stay.

  Tests had never been easy for me. Frankly, I sucked at them. Five minutes after I would turn one in, I'd remember the answers I should have given.

  "What if I want to go home?" I asked softly.

  His lips lifted in a who-do-you-think-you're-kidding smile. "Please, Phoenix. Just please. After seeing what the Sybilins did, you'll never be able to go back to your normal life, doing nothing and knowing you could be doing something to make the world a safer place."

  "First of all, don't assume you know me or what I can and can't do."

  "I wasn't finished."

  Eyes narrowed, I waved a hand through the air, a silent command for him to continue.

  He tapped the end of my nose with his finger. "Sybilins make some alien breeds look like trained house pets. Believe me, there are much worse prowling our streets, stalking our families."

  "Why haven't I heard about them then?"

  "Like I said, we make sure the public doesn't know."

  I didn't respond. I didn't know how to respond. What else was I ignorant about?

  "Tell me you don't care about predatory species stalking your family. Tell me that doesn't bother you. Tell me you're happy doing nothing."

  "Listen, I'll do or fight anything to keep my mother safe." Even though she'd sent me here, thinking the worst of me. A sharp pain of regret tore through me, but I ignored it. Fragile as she was, my mom would not be able to defend herself against predatory creatures. "But that doesn't mean I have to do that here. That doesn't mean this is the place for me. I like the idea of it, sure, but I'm just not--"