by Amanda Thome
We both look at each other in clear concern. This is the first mention that we’ll be transformed to look like other people.
“Don’t worry, it’s all temporary.” Jon adds and we ease somewhat, but I can’t help wondering what they’ll do to me.
Jon ushers us into his loft. “Nessa and Ty, this is Zane and Marissa.” Both are vaguely familiar from one of Jon’s liberation society meetings.
Marissa bounds forward, “Hello again! I’m Marissa. I’ll be doing the transformation part.”
Marissa isn’t unattractive by any means; she’s a cute girl, probably in her mid-twenties. Her blonde hair sits below her shoulders and falls in rolling waves. Her face is plain except for her stunning green eyes. They sort of pull my eyes to them.
“Nessa, let’s start with you.” Marissa says and I look to Ty as she whisks me away into another room. “Ok, sit right here for me.” She directs me into a portable salon chair she moved in just for the occasion. “We have to change your hair and definitely those eyes.”
“What?”
“Yeah, those are the two easiest things to change and they’ll make the biggest difference in hiding you.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry.” She must hear the fear in my voice. “I’m just going to cut some off. Not much,” she adds after I shoot her a death stare. “We’re going to have to change the color too. I say we go for auburn red. Your chestnut brown will pick-up the color nicely. It should stay for the next few months.”
“And my eyes?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m going to show you how to use colored contacts.” I stare in utter stupidity. “They’re these lenses you place in your eyes to change their color. You just have to put them in on the day of the mission.”
Marissa gets to work by covering my hair in a foul smelling substance that tingles as it sits, working its way into my scalp. I sit still, irrationally fearful that the dye on my head is a ticking bomb that will blast if I make the slightest movement. My neck aches as I hold myself stiff. I think about the day I sat in Uri’s chair as he prepared me for the banquet. I chastise myself for being so naïve back then. How did I believe in something that was all a lie? Just when I think I can’t take the smell any longer the timer rings and she ushers me into the bathroom to rinse.
I open my eyes seeing bright red dye spiraling around the base of the tub as it slides down the drain. I really hope my hair doesn’t turn out that bright. She towel dries my hair before guiding me back into her makeshift beauty station.
Her scissors snap furiously as inch after inch of my hair falls to the floor around me. For some reason my heart begins bounding dangerously fast and sweat begins forming on my palms. I try focusing on my breathing to steady me. When that doesn’t work I think about Ty. My heart slows as I pretend he’s here with me telling me I’m safe, just like he does with my nightmares. Finally I’ve got a grip. At this point Marissa’s already running a dryer through my hair.
“Ok, let me put these in for you.” She’s holding a small round container where the contacts float. She dons a pair of gloves and pries my eyes open as she places one in. I instinctively flinch and try to retract but she holds me steady. It reminds me of the shackles I wore during my leap-test.
“And now the other.” She repeats with the other eye, at least I’m prepared this time. I blink a few times to clear my vision and then I see myself. Actually, I see what looks like a stranger’s head atop my former body. My hair’s a rich auburn red that no longer falls near my waist. It sits just below my shoulder blades but still curls at the ends. Green eyes just like my mothers and Emma’s replace my blue eyes. The resemblance is so overwhelming. I sit for a minute fighting the tears. Is it normal to try so hard to contain your emotions that it actually starts to hurt? I don’t want to cry but as soon as I look back at the mirror I see Mama and Emma staring back at me. Finally I cry.
“I’m sorry, you hate it.” Marissa sounds defeated.
“No, no. I love it.” I hug her and sit back in my chair. Marissa helps me practice putting in the contact lenses and once I have the hang of it my transformation’s complete. I let the tears dry before I make my way back into the kitchen with my contacts still in.
Ty and Jon are in a heated discussion, as I cross the threshold into the living room they both stop. Jon’s eyes are huge and Ty’s jaw literally drops.
“Nessa.” He manages to say.
“Yes?” I ask sounding more flirtatious than I meant to.
“You were good-lookin’ before but now…Wow.” My cheeks turn crimson at Ty’s assessment.
“Well it’s your turn. Marissa’s waiting for you.”
Ty gets up and on his way by he stops in front of me, kissing me innocently on the cheek. I’m mortified but at the same time the butterflies shifting in my stomach ease my embarrassment. I make my way over to Zane.
“Nessa, I’m Zane.” I shake his hand. “I’m making your new identification. You’ll only need to use this once, for the entrance into the testing facilities. It’ll be activated and cleared to take you on the shuttle systems should you need it, but like I said, the plan is to just gain access to the center.”
Zane snaps a headshot of me and then takes a mold of my fingerprints. He types furiously on his tablet. “I’m erasing the old you. These prints are no longer tied to Vanessa Hollins, they’re linked to Lindsay Barnal now.”
“Who?”
“She’s a fictitious character we’ve made for you to assume. She was born in Central and tested highly into a university for tactical engineering. You have the credentials and now the access to enter the testing site.”
“So the old me is gone? No record?”
“No more Vanessa Hollins.” The small machine plugged into Zane’s computer spits out an ID card. I see the new me with auburn hair and deep green-gold eyes.
“Lindsay Barnal.” I say the name out loud. Part of me is relieved to start new while the other mourns the abrupt end of my prior self.
How am I supposed to feel? How would anyone feel if they found out they could be erased with a few clicks on a tablet? I was worth more than that, Vanessa Hollins shouldn’t be able to be replaced so easily. I wonder if I’ll go unnoticed, if with enough time that name will hold no weight, no draws or emotional binds to anyone.
Ty’s transformation didn’t take quite as long. She lightened and shortened his hair. His contacts cover his deep green eyes turning them brown. He looks handsome both ways but I prefer the old Ty. There’s something about his green eyes that make me feel like I’m falling weightlessly into them. Like they’re windows to his soul that only I can see into.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Ty says as he smiles taking a seat next to Zane. The process of erasing Ty begins and before I know it Zane hands him his card. “So I’m Eric Barnal?” Ty asks.
“Wait, did you say Barnal?” I glare from across the room.
Zane answers, “Yes, you two are Mr. and Mrs. Barnal, happily married.” Our eyes meet, we both look like we’ve been hit in the gut. First they take our identities and then they marry us.
Jon interrupts, “Okay Zane, I think it’s time we let these two get some rest. They have a long day ahead of them tomorrow.” Jon’s right, tomorrow we start our weeklong intensive combat course.
Chapter 39
I pull on the black and purple elastic pants Kara left for me. The fabric stretches with my movement. It’s supposed to give my limbs the freedom they need for today’s training.
“Ya ready for this?” Ty asks as he strides into the room.
“I guess. What do you think we’re learning?”
“No clue but I’m pretty pumped. I hope it’s something cool.” He pulls his sweats from the hanger and flings them to the bed. I pull my hair into a knot, some red still stains my scalp from yesterday’s dye. Ty’s voice interrupts my efforts at taming my hair.
“Don’t turn around,” he says.
“Huh?” I turn around. He
’s standing in his black briefs. I hadn’t imagined he’d look so strong. I take far too long to turn away.
“Or you could turn around and stare.” He shakes his head grinning at me.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to.” My cheeks flame.
“No problem Nessa. It was a warning for your own safety. I didn’t want you gettin’ one look at me and fallin’ head over heels in love.” He digs his elbow into my ribs as he walks past me, pulling his sweatshirt over his head.
“Hey you two, crafts leaving in five!” Jon yells from the sitting room.
Ty and I make our way to the craft, I ride in an anxious state wondering what’s in store for us. Ty and Jon sing to the music playing over the radio, its funny how fast Ty’s picked up the songs. He’s got a memory for this sort of thing.
Jon slows down outside an abandoned brick building. The roll-up garage door in the front has half the glass panes shattered out of it. “Here’s your stop,” he says.
Ty and I look at each other, he’s smiling and I’m terrified. We pick our way across the cracked and uneven lot toward the busted door. Jon pulls away before we’ve even made it inside. Ty opens the door and my stomach jolts. Sitting in front of us is a ring with ropes on all sides. An echoing voice interrupts my mind.
“Welcome to the hole.” I turn to see a salt-and-pepper haired man approach from behind one of the hanging bags. “I’m Clint,” he says shaking Ty’s hand. “We’ve got one week to ‘show you the ropes’ as they call it.” The man smiles grabbing the elastic cords surrounding the ring. “Half the day’s combat training, other half will be spent shooting.”
“Shooting?” I ask.
“Guns, shooting guns,” he answers. That’s what I was afraid of. Ty beams like a child. I do my best to appear unfazed but adrenaline and nerves course through me. Clint pulls the ropes open directing us to step through.
I’m just about to swing my leg over when Ty grabs my hand, “It’s okay Nessa, don’t be nervous. We’ll do this together.” I acknowledge him with a half-smile as I try figuring out what my giveaway was. I was doing my best to look calm.
Clint interrupts my thoughts, “This is the hole. Let’s hope you never need hand-to-hand combat skills but if you do, you better be prepared.” He moves into the corner. “Line up!” He shouts. Ty and I jolt. “Line up!” He shouts again. We scramble toward the middle of the hole. “Face each other,” he demands. We turn, I can tell Clint means business. “Now fight!” We both stop and stare dumbly ahead.
“Excuse me?” Ty asks.
“I said fight.”
“No, I heard ya, you just must be kiddin’. I’m not fightin’ her.” Clint marches towards Ty, his strong shoulders are square and imposing. I flinch waiting for him to hit Ty. At the last second Clint turns hitting me across the face. I drop to the mat with blood spitting from my nose.
Ty reacts winding up to hit Clint square in the jaw. Clint dodges the blow and drives his fist straight into Ty’s gut. The winds taken from Ty but he stumbles forward toward Clint, wrapping him in his arms. Ty’s black sweatshirt is a blur as he lifts Clint off the ground landing on top of him. I crawl myself toward the corner trying to staunch the pouring blood. Ty lines up for a blow but is suddenly tossed to the side as Clint rolls him over, pinning him down.
I push to my feet, blood still falling to the mat. I’ve got to help Ty. This guy will kill him, he’s crazy. Clint lines up to hit Ty as I throw my weight behind my kick. My foot sounds like thunder as it hits the side of Clint’s head, throwing him off Ty. Before I know it Ty’s back on his feet ready to fight. Clint stands, pleased as he brushes the blood that drips from the corner of his mouth.
“Good. Get mad, get pissed! This is war!” he yells pounding his chest. “Drawing your first blood is the hardest. Once you’ve drawn it, once yours has fallen, there’s nothing left to fear.” He smirks, blood still dripping from his mouth. “Let’s review what you did wrong,” he sneers.
“Never hesitate. If I say fight, you fight. When you’re out there you won’t have the luxury of stopping. It’s do or die.” He paces around the hole as he talks. “Fight!” He screams, but we don’t.
Clint walks forward lining up to hit me again, this time I dodge it swinging my fist into his ribs, he stands up laughing. “Can’t hit like that, it’s too weak. No power behind it.” He grabs my hand closing it into a tight ball. He guides my arm through the motion once before he reaches for my hips, “Your force comes from here,” he squeezes my hips. “Not here,” he says swatting my hand away.
Repetition after repetition Ty and I practice our punches, leading with the hips and blasting through our arms. Half the morning’s gone and Clint’s taken us through punching, blocking, and now we’re onto tossing.
“Wrap her up in your arms,” Clint directs. Ty reaches his arms around my thighs squeezing as he lifts me up and over, tossing me to my back. I slam down, the winds knocked out of me again. Somewhere inside a fire’s been lit. With each crash onto the mat I no longer cower, I rage. Over and over Ty flings me down and at last I can’t take it anymore. I fall to my back and this time I react, kicking my leg into his gut. I throw Ty over my head and watch him sail to his back. He slams down with the wind knocked out of him. Ty pushes onto his hands and knees coughing.
“What the frig Nessa?”
“No, don’t question her,” Clint snaps. “That’s what you want. That’s what you need. You’re gonna need a partner that won’t hesitate, someone with that rage and courage.” I walk to Ty, my body aches. I reach my hand down to help him up. His green eyes piece mine as he ignores my help.
“Fight!” Clint screams.
Ty comes at me ready to wrap me in his arms. I drop to my knees and thread my arms through his legs lifting upwards. I drive him backwards until he falls. Something inside him lights and he barrel rolls on top of me, I drive my arm forward ready to block his punch but Clint interrupts, “Stop!”
Ty lowers his arms. Both of us are gasping for air. “That’s enough combat for today. It’s time for shooting.”
Just like that it’s over and my coursing adrenaline settles. Ty reaches down, his strong hand ready to help me. Seconds ago we were at each other’s throats and now here we are, ready to take hands. He helps me off the mat, steadying me as I stretch my sides. Clint leads us away from the pit over a concrete ramp. His body sways, cat like and frightening. Off to the side he grabs ear muffs from a table, handing us each a pair. The guns sit in a line across the second wooden table. My stomach tosses, I think of the regulators pointing them at me, like they did that night I snuck out of the house to meet Garrett.
“These are the bullets.” Clint rolls the brass shells between his fingers. “You load them into this,” he picks up the magazine. Ty and I mirror what he does. It takes us twice the time to load them as it does Clint. “Do it again” Clint demands.
Ty and I load and unload the bullets, with each pass we get a little faster. My fingers move quicker and my technique gets sharper.
“Never point this,” Clint points to the barrel, “at anyone or anything unless you plan on shooting them.” He slams the magazine into the gun, Ty and I copy him. Clint takes us into an empty room where three alleys sprawl in front of us, targets hanging at the ends. “You pull this back,” Clint directs dragging the slide backwards and releases it. “Now you’re live and ready to shoot.”
Ty and I pull our slides back but we’re both clumsy with it. “Again!” Clint barks. Over and over we repeat it until we’re efficient. “Now aim,” Clint staggers his stance pushing his arms forward as he looks down the sights. I notice him exhale as he shoots. The gun thunders even through our ear protection. The target sways, he’s landed a perfect head-shot.
Ty lines up to take his first shot. The gun jerks and the bullet drives into the concrete floor.
“Again!” Clint snaps. Ty tries again, this time the bullet barely strikes the target. Clint walks behind him and pulls the gun from his hands.
“Let t
he gun surprise you when it fires. Don’t be afraid of the shot. Every time you pull back on that trigger you want it to surprise you. The idea’s to pull the trigger without moving the sights.” Clint wraps his finger around the trigger pulling it back, landing another kill shot. “This time pull the trigger back as slowly as possible and embrace the sound.” He hands the gun back to Ty.
Ty lines his feet up and mirrors Clint. He draws the trigger back slowly, hitting the target in the gut.
“Again!” Clint yells.
Over and over Ty repeats. Clint props himself near the back, stalking forward from time to time to adjust Ty’s technique. Finally Ty’s gotten pretty accurate, his bullet holes group close together at least.
“You’re up,” Clint stares at me. I move toward the range with my stomach flip-flopping.
“Good luck.” Ty smiles stepping aside.
I’ve learned a lot from watching Ty. I copy his movements by opening my feet up wide. I pitch myself forward slightly and narrow my eyes down the sights. Exhaling I draw the trigger back. I’m immediately jolted by the sound and power. The gun jerks upward sending my bullet off course.
“Again!” Clint screams. I squeeze the trigger, this time better prepared for the force as I fire. The bullet flies through the air hitting the shoulder of the target. “Again!” Clint demands.
Over and over I shoot until I’ve finally gotten my gun sighted in. I aim and fire until the bullet holes bunch up around each other.
“That’s enough.” Clint strides over to me. I shoot my last round and set the gun on the table. “First day’s over. Time for you to get home.” Ty and I instantly look relieved, we must’ve been tensed all day because our shoulders instinctively relax. “Jon’s not coming to get you. You’ll run home.”
“What?” I ask.
“It’s four miles. You can make it. Consider it part of your training. I want you running here and back every day.”
