Sovereign (Sovereign Series)

by E. R. Arroyo

  “Daddy,” my tiny voice calls out.

  He shakes his head. “You can do it. Climb up.”

  I hold tight, my hands trembling on the edge. I pull myself to where I can throw an elbow over, but I slip and lose my grip. He catches my hand and tugs me up, then kisses my forehead.

  “You did great, baby. One day you won’t need me. You’ll get bigger and stronger, and you’ll always remember what I’ve taught you. Promise you will.”

  “I promise.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Daddy.”

  He pulls one of his handguns from his belt and stuffs it in my backpack. We climb down the fire escape on the far side of the building and disappear down a dark street, leaving behind the sounds of savages yelling as they rampage.

  Chapter Four

  I wake up troubled after managing a few hours of sleep. I try to remember that my father raised me to do things on my own, but I’ve become too dependent. I have to figure out how to get out of here without using Dylan as a crutch. He can’t get me custom gripping gloves, or build new wings--or whatever other thing his mind could fabricate. I’m on my own again. It’s better this way. Better for everyone.

  When I throw my legs over the edge of the bed, I notice a folded piece of paper by the door. I pick it up and unfold it. It’s a hand-written note on stiff, white paper.

  “ Pack your bag. You will be escorted

  to breakfast at 0800.”

  My watch shows 0750. I won’t have time to shower, so I get myself dressed and throw the rest of my clothes in a bag. Ginny knocks quietly before stepping into my room. She puts her hands in her pockets. She looks at me, but not in the eye.

  “Morning. Need help with anything?”

  “Umm...no. I got it.”

  “Okay.” She continues to stand there. Then it dawns on me: I’m considered an adult as of today. No more Ginny.

  “I’ve got all my clothes packed.” I regret not including her in what I’ve already done.

  “You didn’t hide the bras under the bed to leave them behind, eh?”

  “No, ma’am.” I’m really going to miss her.

  “Well, I just wanted to see you off.”

  “Thank you, Ginny. For everything.”

  “Cori, 1206, you were a pain in my neck, but it’s been a pleasure to know you.” She almost sounds like herself again. Caretakers stand in for mothers in Antius because mothers become overly attached. Caretakers are normally quite distant, and up till now that included Ginny. Still, I’m happy to know she feels something--anything--for the biggest troublemaker she’s ever tended.

  A knock at the door breaks the moment, which is good because had we gone much longer I think Ginny might’ve tried to hug me.

  Ginny opens the door to reveal the female soldier, 587, who stands with her arms behind her back. Her straight, dark hair is slicked back into a long ponytail. I wish I had something to compare her to, but I’ve never seen another female soldier. Regardless, she looks like perfection to me. And if I saw any honor in serving a leader like Nathan, I might admire her.

  “Pledge 1206, please follow me,” she demands.

  With my bag over my shoulder, I nod my goodbye to Ginny. She waves as I leave with 587.

  We leave the Underage facility and trek across the property to an elevator that I don’t yet see. As we near, it ascends from the ground. My escort puts her neck by the chip reader, and when the elevator doors open, she ushers me in. I soak in what little daylight lingers until we’re pulled below ground.

  We stop on the second floor and go around the first corner to the cafeteria. I make a mental note of its location and floor.

  “You can leave your bag here.” She points to the floor beside the door. I do as she says.

  This cafeteria is much nicer than the Underage one, and much bigger, too, since military is the largest sector of our population. Dozens of round tables with eight or so chairs are spread around the dining hall. The colors are warmer, darker, cozier. The Government division shares this space apparently, which would explain its lavish stylings. Even though it’s a shared space, there’s a clear divide between them--a large walkway. To the right of it sit the elite members of Government. To the left are Guard tables.

  587 leads me up the aisle and we each grab a tray. I follow her lead and load up a plate of food. To my delight, there’s an array of breads to choose from, and a few different flavors of meal slush. I choose the one labeled “chicken” as well as two different types of bread. My eyes feel like they’re bulging out and I don’t think I’ve blinked since we walked in. Next, she grabs a metal can and sits down at an empty table. I do the same and wait for her to begin.

  “Cori, right?”

  “Yeah--I mean, yes ma’am.” I realize I have no idea what’s expected of me right now. Is this part of my assessment? Is 587 a threat to me?

  “You can call me Captain when we’re on duty,” she explains.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you were an officer.” It’s a middle rank, but impressive still.

  “You can call me Marsiana in private time.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. How much private time is there?”

  “Not much, but we’re roommates.” She sounds somewhat displeased. Since she’d been the only female before I came along, she had probably grown accustomed to rooming alone just like I had.

  With the formalities out of the way, she holds the can in one hand and with the other, pulls on a small tab on the top. She forces the tab through a perforation creating a hole. I follow suit, though I struggle with the tab. Once it’s open, I see a dark syrupy liquid. I’m not sure what it’s for until Marsiana takes a sip and grins at me. “Try it.”

  I take a small sip and taste a bit of sweetness. Just enough to pique my interest. I take a bigger drink and my mouth is filled with sugary delight. It’s absolutely delicious. I swish it around my mouth before smiling. All I’ve ever had to drink is water.

  “What is it?” I’m not exactly keeping my cool on my first day of adulthood. I’m acting giddy and I’ve got to get it together.

  “Soda.”

  “It’s amazing,” I gush. “Where’d it come from?”

  “An old stockpile one of our convoys came across. It’s a nice treat, but you shouldn’t drink it often. Bad for you.” There’s something pleasant in her demeanor that I greatly appreciate because I’d built this day up in my head with so much anxiety and stress.

  Just when I’m starting to feel better about things, Nathan strides in and nods at Marsiana, then at me. His face is expressionless, unreadable. After he grabs a tray and starts helping himself to the food, the door opens again letting in Guard 497 from the jail, and two seventeen-year-old pledges, Billy and Sean (I don’t know their numbers, and don’t care).

  Suffice it to say I’ve never gotten along with either of them. They were born only a few days apart and from the looks of them, they probably have the same father. When I was twelve, they followed me into the stairwell and picked a fight. It wasn’t a fair fight, but before I passed out from my head striking a stair, I learned how to break a forearm. And the way Sean’s left arm clings a little closer to his body than his right assures me he’ll never forget it. When I was released from Medical, I was incarcerated for the first time for violence. Neither of them was punished.

  The boys look my way, but don’t nod or make eye contact. They look confident, ready. I have no doubt Billy will thrive here, but I’ve always gotten the sense that there was something more volatile in Sean. Fragile, even. I think they can break him.

  When Marsiana and I finish eating, we head back out to the hall where a guard stands, holding my bag.

  “It’s clear,” he says to Marsiana. She nods for me to take the bag, and I do. I’m glad I didn’t bring my book reader.

  We take the elevator up to the first floor and walk down a long hallway. It feels weird being so far underground. On the left there’s a large room with an open door. Peeking inside briefly, I se
e rows and rows of bunks with gray bedding tucked neatly on each.

  Three more doors on the right, and one more on the left then we stop. The door straight ahead is locked with a scan pad. Marsi scans her fingerprint and her neck chip, and the door unlocks. While I watch her, I realize my heart rate has increased, and I feel more alert. Like my senses are more acute. I didn’t realize I’d put my fingers to my neck to feel my pulse, but Marsiana says, “Caffeine, from the soda.”

  “Oh.” It feels good.

  Inside, the room is a little bigger than the one I’d had before. Thankfully there are two bunks. No bed-sharing for soldiers. And our room has a closet, and our very own bathroom, shower and all. Maybe getting through my pledge training won’t be so bad after all. Just bide your time.

  “We’ll report topside in twenty minutes. Would you like a hot shower?”

  “We have hot water?” I drag my bag into the restroom with me and don’t bother closing the door--I’m not used to privacy anyway. I get my shirt halfway off and realize I have no idea how to work this shower. Marsi peeks in and rattles off a few instructions. I strip down and step into the steaming hot water and a glorious, relief washes over my skin, even soothing my muscles. It’s magnificent and I’m enjoying it too much to be mad that they’ve been holding out on the rest of the colony.

  Topside at 0900, I’m standing in an open part of the lawn with six other teens, Sean and Billy included. We form a straight line with our hands crossed behind our backs. Before us, Nathan is flanked by Marsiana.

  “I hope you had a good breakfast. You’re going to be losing it soon,” Nathan tells us. What an introduction to the military. He turns to Marsiana. “Run them.”

  “Yes, sir.” She’s stone-faced, all business. I remember this counts as on-duty.

  Nathan walks off without another word and retreats to his underground kingdom. If the rest of the colony had any idea what was beneath their own feet...

  “You heard him, kids. Time to run.” Captain points toward a makeshift track along the fence. “Stay inside the cones.” I wasn’t sure if Nathan was being literal but it’s clear now that he was. Billy takes the lead, with Sean on his heels, and the rest of us jumble behind. Captain points us in the right direction. I see the cones along the fence line. We’re simply running the perimeter, though I’m not sure how many times.

  I begin pacing my breaths and focusing on my steps. I make no effort to take first place, nor will I allow myself to be last. That’s for the giant kid named Twig. Most of us are stick-thin, and he was especially lanky when he was named. Now, he’s a monster of a young man. Not fat, just huge.

  Running outside is very different from running on the machines in the workout room, and I count my steps wondering what the distance of one lap is. After the first complete lap, I estimate its distance to be roughly two and a half miles around.

  In the second lap I’m breathing heavily, and I’m no longer counting steps. I soak up what little Vitamin D might still exist in the penetrating ultraviolet light from the sun. My cheeks feel warm, as do my lungs, even though the air is cool. I’m always active, but I rarely flat-out run, as most of my workouts are indoors.

  By the fifth lap, the group has slowed significantly. Sean is in the lead, but Billy’s keeping up right behind him. Twig is a whole lap behind us. I couldn’t even look at him when I passed him up. Poor kid. He’s seventeen, but still has the baby-fat roundness in his face. He’s always been broad-shouldered, and big footed, but he’s only recently hit a growth spurt. He’s bigger than all of us, but it’s evident by his clumsiness that he’s still not entirely in control of his newly enormous form. I’m not sure what kind of soldier he’ll make, and I hope, for his sake, that he gets in shape and gains command of his body.

  Somewhere in my sixth lap I pass Twig again and he’s no longer running, he’s barely walking. I meet his eyes just in time to see him begin to vomit. I look away quickly and suppress a gag rising up from the sight of it. Twig doesn’t finish another lap.

  On lap seven, we lose two more. On the eighth, another, all of them sprawled on the grass after losing their breakfast, just like Nathan promised.

  Sean still holds the front, while I bring up the rear with Billy in between. Only a few yards separate each of us. I still feel no need to compete. What we’re doing barely counts as running anymore. My limbs are stiff and weigh a thousand pounds each. My feet are concrete slabs on the dirt. When we cross over a gravel pathway, I almost twist my ankle. I’ve nearly starved before and still never felt this fatigued.

  Billy loses his balance and teeters toward the electrified fence, and I’m too tired to laugh at his ungraceful recovery.

  Lap nine. My lungs are burning, my side has been stabbed with a hundred tiny daggers that lodge into bone. I’m panting and feel as though I’m choking on oxygen.

  On the tenth lap I notice Nathan has returned to the captain’s side. I grit my teeth at the sight of him, but I’m too exhausted to shoot him a dirty look. That’s a good thing, though, because I told Dylan I would play the part.

  Sweat pours down my forehead and into my eyes, and I’m now too tired to wipe it away. Instead I squint through them, making sure not to fall too far behind. I can’t believe these boys are still going, though they’re certainly not “going strong.”

  All I hear are my breaths and my heartbeat. All I see are Billy’s feet in front of me. I have no idea if Sean is still in front or if he passed out somewhere, which is exactly what I’d like to do right now. Hurl myself at the grass and hope to God there’s still some dew on it. But I don’t. Instead I bite down on the inside of my lip and focus on that pain. Focus on my next breath, which is so shallow. I can’t breathe.

  Billy’s feet slow ahead of me right as a whistle blows. I look up to see Marsi holding up her hand, signaling for us to stop. We’ve finished our tenth lap. Twenty-five miles. I just ran twenty-five miles. I think I’m dying.

  Another soldier brings us tiny cups of water, not enough to quench the thirst. I’ve never felt this way before. Sean and Billy are doubled over, one vomiting up stomach acid, and the other is dry-heaving. Luckily, I don’t vomit. I bend over with my hands on my knees, focusing on slowing my heart rate and trying desperately to breathe. It feels like the air is no longer air, but heavy fog that burns going in and stings coming out.

  Nathan clears his throat. I finally notice the other kids on the ground with their arms on their knees. They look ashamed. “Billy, why did you come in second?” Nathan asks.

  Billy looks bewildered, still struggling to control the heaving his body has taken to. “I don’t know, sir.”

  “You don’t know,” Nathan says, agitated.

  “No, sir.” Billy’s voice sounds desperate. Pleading. He shouldn’t feel so bad, he’s one of only three that finished.

  “Sean.” Nathan has shifted his attention. Sean’s composing himself better than Billy. Better than me, too, I think. “Why did you finish first?” Nathan asks him.

  “Because I’m the fastest, sir,” he fumbles out too confidently.

  “You mean you ran the fastest.” I detect the subtle difference, but I don’t think Sean does.

  “Yes...sir,” he responds, confused.

  “You understand the difference, of course?” He’s standing closer to Sean, almost in his face. Oddly, they’re almost the exact same height and I wonder if Nathan would be dwarfed by Dylan’s stature. I wonder if Twig would, too.

  “No, sir, I don’t.”

  “Just because you ran the fastest, doesn’t mean you are the fastest runner.” Nathan shifts his weight and tilts his head to crack his neck. Even I’m getting impatient waiting for Sean to connect the dots.

  “I don’t follow, sir.”

  “Cori.” When Nathan says my name, it sounds like the most vile word in the English language. He has that effect. “Cori will race you to the tower and back. The fastest runner will be rewarded with water and food. The loser will do without both until morning.”

&n
bsp; If this were Billy I was supposed to race, I would let him win. I hate him, but I’m too tired to care. But Sean is different. I’m almost happy Nathan is trying to break him. I won’t let him win in a one-on-one.

  But I can’t run anymore.

  We stand side-by-side, both still exhausted and panting. I look around at everyone, pumping my fists. Marsi nods when our eyes meet.

  Nathan yells “go,” and we take off. I allow him approximately a two-foot lead all the way to the tower. He touches the wood and I touch it one second later, then kick it into high-gear, which would be a lot faster if I hadn’t just run twenty-five miles. We’re neck and neck. Then in the last ten yards, I leave him behind.

  I pass Nathan first but I’m not sure how much I won by. We both throw ourselves on the ground, not caring how weak we must look. I can’t imagine what I must look like right now. My clothes are sopping with sweat, and I can feel hair plastered to my forehead.

  Sean’s cheeks are burning red, and his forehead is scrunched up like he’s ashamed. It makes me consider feeling sorry for him, but I don’t. I’ll always remember him as the boy who picked on the skinny girl in a dark stairwell, two against one. After a moment, he stiffens his upper lip, and his shame turns to anger. He can’t keep his breaths steady. He’s going to hyperventilate if he doesn’t calm down.

  “Very good,” Nathan says calmly, his hands behind his back. “Why did you lose the race, Sean?”

  “Because I’m tired,” he says with his chest puffed up. I think I see the shame fighting the anger for first place in his emotions.

  “Don’t you suppose 1206 is tired, too?”

  Sean spits at the ground in my general direction and doesn’t answer.

  Nathan walks closer to Sean and gestures for Sean to get up, which he does reluctantly. “Why did she beat you?” he asks again, more forcefully. Sean shrugs but he blushes a little. Nathan grabs his shirt and pulls him close. “Why did she beat you?”

  “I don’t know,” he grumbles.

  Nathan lets go of his shirt and steps away. “Do you think this is a game?”