by Joe Shine
The strange thing? I wasn’t scared anymore. Now, I wasn’t sure exactly what the right emotional response to all this was—the norm would probably be terror, depression, anger—but I was excited as hell, actually. It sounded fun. Not that it would be all sunshine and daisies. My life, as I knew it, was over. Totally. No going back. No phone calls to my mom, and no apologizing. Not even a goodbye hug. This was my new home. There were only three ways out of here: die, go insane, or graduate. Zero other options. Die from training (the most common outcome); go insane, thanks to a steady regimen of those nasty shots (sadly pretty common, too); survive it all, become a super stud who feels no pain, and graduate.
Apparently only around 5 percent graduated, so odds were I’d never leave this place. Bonus! Then again, my mother had always told me I was exceptional . . .
“Feeling better?” Pre-taped asked. “Now please sit up and listen carefully to what I am about to say.”
I hadn’t been sitting at all, so there was my proof the voice was pre-recorded. I had no clue how long I’d been standing there like a statue, though. Could have been five minutes, could have been fifty.
Pre-taped continued, “Please exit and follow the markers toward the Echo room. The correct path will be obvious. Do not stray off course or attempt to escape. Any deviation from the path will result in severe punishment. Chin up, back straight. You have nothing to fear here if you behave.”
“So can I go now?” I asked a bit sarcastically.
As if on cue, the door slid open.
One thing I’d learned in all my stints in juvie is when you’re given the chance to not be in your cell, you take it. I took a few steps to the door and poked my head out into the hallway. I spotted a few others doing the same and caught the eye of a cute girl. I smiled and gave her a nod. Always braver when there’s a girl around, I stepped out into the hallway.
The door to my room slid shut behind me the moment I was clear of it.
More joined us, doors sliding shut behind them one by one, but I kept my eyes on the girl. She had plain, dark brown hair, which was pulled into a ponytail, and wore all yellow about as well as you could hope. Then my gaze shifted. From down the hall I saw a huge guard in full-on riot gear forcing the noncompliant out of their rooms.
Flashing green lights began guiding us all to the left. I’d been so busy staring at the monster in the riot gear I hadn’t noticed that the girl was suddenly standing next to me.
“You coming?” she whispered.
“Oh, uh,” I stammered, “yeah.”
We walked in awkward silence, side by side.
“Hutch,” I said, introducing myself. “I’m Hutch.”
“Sam,” she replied.
We shook hands.
“Like short for Samantha?”
“No, like short for Sam. My dad wanted a boy.” I could tell by the way she said it she’d been explaining it her whole life and was tired of it. “Hutch can’t be your real name.”
“Robert Hutchinson,” I told her.
“Hutch is much better,” she admitted with a smile.
I smiled back. “Right?”
As our eyes met, her smile vanished. She stared at the floor. I straightened and craned my neck. A sea of yellow filled the hallway. Who knew how many kids there were? From what I could see I was one of the biggest guys here, but that was pretty normal. There were a few who were taller or wider, but I was near the top. It was good to know. It’s always good to know how you stack up against potential enemies.
Chapter 5
Following the Rules: Lesson 1 ... And 2, 3, 4, Oh, You Get the Idea
Getting to the Echo room was a hike. I filled the minutes by making hushed small talk with Sam. The other kids were whispering amongst themselves, too, so apparently it wasn’t against the rules. She was from Canada, eh? And played soccer and hockey, eh? By the time we reached the massive double doors that led to the Echo room, I was officially crushing hard. No doubt about it. Maybe the FATE Center would be all sunshine and daisies.
The Echo room was more than a room. It was the biggest, most massive indoor open space I’d ever seen. It reminded me of the situation rooms that you’d see in the movies. You know, the ones with TVs on all the walls flashing what are supposed to be really important images and information, but if you pause and zoom in, it’s just nonsense. Only, the stuff on the walls in here didn’t look like nonsense.
Aside from the light that came from the screens along the edges, the middle of the room was bathed in black. Small bubble-like things, perfectly spaced out, hovered in the air around ten feet off the ground. They projected circles of white light onto the ground. In the middle of the circles were names.
“Walk you to yours?” I asked Sam.
“Sure. Last name starts with W.”
The names were alphabetically listed, so it wasn’t hard to find W and finally, Sam Whiskers.
“Wait, your last name is Whiskers?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“Ha-ha,” she said, playing back.
“So your dad is Mr. Whiskers?”
She smirked. “Original. You’re only the millionth person who’s asked.”
I swallowed a laugh. “Meet up after whatever this is ends?” I asked. “Assuming we’re alive, of course.”
“Sure. Bet you a loonie we’ll make it.”
“A loonie?”
“A Canadian dollar.”
“Oh, cool. Yeah, see you in a bit.” I walked back toward the H section, wondering where I could scare up a Canadian dollar at this place. Every prison had some kind of barter system, guys who were good at getting contraband. How different could this place really be underneath the sleek shine?
I started noticing that as kids stepped into their lights, the color switched from hot white to a relaxing blue. By the time I reached my own bubble, I was one of only a handful of white lights left. I quickly stepped into the light and onto my name.
“Well done, Hutch,” said Pre-taped. “I told you there was nothing to fear.”
It sounded like his voice was coming from every direction. Then I remembered the cool bubble above me. Everyone was looking up, of course. Ha. Guilty as charged, Pre-taped. I knew you weren’t a real person.
“Please wait patiently while the others find their places. You’re doing very well.”
If I was going to be fed compliments for standing in the right place, this whole thing was going to be a piece of cake—other than the shots, of course.
Then some stupid a few rows away tried to leave his bubble. The light turned red. The short kid froze, his face all scrunched up and grimacing from some unseen or unheard pain. After a few seconds he was allowed to move back into his bubble. The light went back to blue, but from the way he clutched his heaving chest, it was obvious he was pretty shaken up by whatever had happened.
Okay then. Stay put. Got it.
We were all facing the same direction—I’m sure some psychology experiment could explain why—when a spotlight, a big legit one, lit up a man in front. Had he been there this whole time? He was dressed in all-black fatigues like a SWAT commander and had the thousand-yard stare down pat. He looked around the room at us.
“Have a seat,” he said. He sounded like nice dude, actually.
Only, ain’t nowhere to sit, buddy. I almost added, Burn. But a block rose up from the floor behind me and stopped at the perfect height for sitting.
SWAT Commander Dude: 1
Me: 0
“I first want to apologize for what you’ve been put through,” he said. “I understand it has been, and probably still is, the most frightening experience of your life. And I’m not foolish enough to think that a glorified slide show has earned your trust. But please believe me when I say you have nothing to fear here. You are the special ones, and we are only here for you. I am Lieutenant Colonel Shane, and I will be overseei
ng your training here at FATE.” He started walking around among us. “You will be tested here beyond the limits of your mental and physical abilities, challenged like never before. You will hate us. You will want nothing more than to hurt us, maybe even kill us. We don’t take it personally.”
He paused next to a tall Indian kid. He touched him all buddy-buddy on the shoulder.
The kid didn’t move. Smart.
“We understand none of this has, or will be, easy for any of you,” Lt. Col. Shane went on. “But you have been chosen for something noble, something beyond all of us. In time you will understand this and accept it.” He stopped by the stupid who’d tried to leave his bubble earlier and asked, “Are you all right, son?”
The boy nodded and Shane responded by giving him a bro-style, attaboy slap on the shoulder. The kid smiled.
I felt sick for a second. No way would he make it.
“A lot of you are probably thinking there’s been a mistake. There hasn’t been. You will leave here a Shadow, or die here in the shadows.”
I resisted the urge to groan. Really? Waaa-waaaa.
“You will now begin your formal training and it comes down to one simple philosophy: or die. Listen to your instructors or die. Learn from your mistakes or die. Be vigilant or die. Kill or die. The only enemy you don’t have to worry about is a dead one. That is all the time we have today,” he concluded. “Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your sacrifice. Good luck.”
A leathery, old, war-movie, drill-instructor type suddenly appeared next to Lt. Col. Shane.
He yelled, “Do not move until directed!”
Pre-taped followed up with, “When your light turns off, you are to exit through the designated door. Do not attempt to leave before then. Best of luck over the next four years, Robert Hutchinson. I’m rooting for you.”
Sure you are. And I’m rooting for your hard drive to be corrupted by a virus.
A door on the other side of the room opened. Fifteen random lights went off. The fifteen kids made their way to the exit. And so it went until it was my turn. Sam’s was still on, though, and I could see the weight of all of this was getting the better of her, so I whispered, “Psst! Sam!”
She was too far away to hear me, so I round-abouted my route in her direction, planning on cracking a joke to help her relax a bit. Not the best idea I’ve had.
“And what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” the drill instructor called out.
He was on me with a baton before I could reply, cracking me in the middle of my back. When he took another swing, well, that’s when my street instincts kicked in.
I ducked it and jammed my shoulder into his chest. I wrapped my arms around his legs, drove my feet into the ground, and football-tackle-slammed him to the ground. Normally, that did the job and the scuffle was over. But this guy had latched himself on to me like a snake, and in a move I’d only ever seen while watching MMA on TV, he flipped me over onto my back. He was on top of me in a flash, raining down haymakers. He busted open my lip, bloodied my nose, and finished by popping me nice and hard in the left eye. It would be black by morning. Satisfied I wasn’t going to fight back anymore, he got off me.
“Move,” he commanded, pointing toward the only open door.
I rolled gingerly to my feet and chanced a glance at Sam. With sad eyes, she mouthed, Obey or die. The glance did not go unnoticed. My leg got a good crack from the baton.
“I said move!”
I didn’t lose many fights, but I’d lost a few. I knew when not to push it. Embarrassed, pissed, and aching, I walked through the door. It closed behind me. Not everyone in the hall had seen me take the beatdown from the drill instructor, so my bloody appearance was met with a few gasps.
“You okay?” a petite blonde girl asked me.
“What, this?” I joked. My lip was already swollen, so the words sounded funny. “It’s nothing. Disagreement between friends.” The adrenaline was wearing off. It was all beginning to hurt, a lot. But I would never show them that.
The familiar flashing lights guided us down a few hallways. We were led into a white room with thick, padded wrestling mats on the ground and up against the walls. No sooner had we entered from the main door than a hidden door slid up and opened on the other side. Out walked . . .
“Leslie?” I cried.
Everyone shot me a who-the-hell-is-this-guy look.
“Making friends already, I see,” she said with a smile.
“What can I say? I’m a popular guy.” I winced a little. It hurt to smile.
“You ever finish your little Christmas ditty?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Apparently I’ve been unconscious for a few weeks, so no.”
“Who told you that?”
I shrugged cockily. “My file says I’m charming, remember?”
“Feel like singing a little something for the group?” she asked.
“Doesn’t really feel like a singing-type place.”
“I knew you were smarter than you look,” she said, her smile fading.
“Don’t count on it.”
With an enigmatic shrug, she turned to address the class. “Line up against the wall over there,” she ordered, pointing across the room.
We obeyed and lined up in no particular order. I used the chance to lean back against the wall. My leg was killing me where the drill instructor guy had whacked me.
“As you may have guessed, thanks to Hutch, my name is Leslie. I will be your instructor.” As she spoke she walked back and forth in front of us, drinking us in. “As you already know, the chances of making it out of here are slim. I’ll try my best to give you the greatest shot of surviving, that much I promise. Since it will inevitably come up, yes, I’m the one who kidnapped you, all of you. Every instructor is responsible for obtaining the kids on his or her list. Get it?”
We all nodded. But no, we didn’t get it.
“You got me, so I got you. Bruisy McBruise face over here”—she pointed at me—“was a failed attempt at trying something new, which is why he knows me, or thinks he does. The rest of you, just like countless others before, never saw me coming. You woke up here terrified and lost. Won’t be the first time and won’t be the last time. And yes, some of you have been waiting in cryostasis for quite some time. Now that you’re here, it’s my job to test you to your limits and then beyond. I will break you. Then I will rebuild you. The sooner we get started the sooner the worst will be over, so let’s begin, shall we?”
When she finished, a block like the one that rose out from the ground in the Echo room slid up from the ground over by the far corner. She took a seat on it.
“Darlington Kanu and Renata Mitic, please step forward,” she called out.
A tall, slender black girl off to my left took a step forward, as did a short, stocky brunette even farther down.
“Face each other,” Leslie ordered.
They turned and looked at each other.
“Bow.”
They were confused, but they obeyed like good little Minions.
Minions! That’s what we looked like. A giant army of Gru’s Minions! Whew, that had been bugging me for a while.
“Now fight until one of you is unconscious,” Leslie commanded, her voice calm.
Neither girl moved.
“Absolutely serious, ladies. Fight. I’m not picking on you. This is day one stuff for everyone. Get to it.”
Still, neither moved. I mean, it looked like Renata at least clenched her fists, but that could have been from nerves.
In a flash, Leslie whipped out a gun from behind her back and shot Darlington in the chest. It was so loud and so surreal it all seemed to happen in slow motion. Darlington fell to the ground lifeless, blood slowly pooling across the floor. Tendrils of smoke from the barrel of the gun rose up into the air in front of Leslie’s emotionless face.
Renata stiffened. She stood frozen in shock.
As the surprise of it wore off and everything went back to real time, a few people along the line lost it. One or two even started to scream.
Leslie fired the gun twice more into the ceiling as she barked, “Silence!”
That seemed to work. My eyes never left Darlington. I’d never seen anyone get shot before. The hidden door opened and two men in all-black combat fatigues—dressed exactly like Shane—entered. They took Darlington by the arms and dragged her lifeless body out as if she were a bag of trash. The door closed behind them. My ears were still ringing, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the sounds of quiet sobbing coming from some of the others. I blinked, I think for the first time since the gunshot.
“Failure to obey commands will not be tolerated,” Leslie said flatly.
I couldn’t help myself. I blurted out, “What about the ‘you’ll try your best to help us survive’ crap? If you—”
“Mind yourself, Hutch,” Leslie interrupted. She eyed me coldly. “Your survival hinges on your absolute obedience and ability to follow orders. Do we understand each other now?”
Everyone nodded. A few even whispered a quiet “Yes.”
“Obey or die,” I clarified.
“Straightforward and easy to remember, no?” she said. She straightened, her eyes sweeping the room.
“So if we all refuse to obey you right now, you’ll kill us all?” I tried to say coolly.
She nodded as she said, “Yes, and then I’ll get the year off, or maybe get assigned to the armory like I want, so don’t think I’ll lose any sleep over it. I have zero feelings for any of you and plenty of bullets left if you want to try me. Renata, step back in line. Robert Hutchinson, please step forward.”
We stared each other down for a few seconds before I stepped out. Now wasn’t the time to test her.
“Jennifer Schwartz, please join him.”
The little blonde girl—the one who’d foolishly asked me how I was earlier—stepped forward on the wobbliest of wobbly legs.
