by Ward, Tamryn
No one answers at first. Then Henry pipes up. “Me, of course. I’m not going to let any of you losers take my spot.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that,” Mattie grumbles.
Henry laughs. It’s a hollow laugh. The kind intended to let everyone know he isn’t amused. “Who’s going to knock me down? Eva?”
Cold fury slices through me. I know Henry was the one who attacked Paul and Tom. But evidently there’s no proof, since he hasn’t been arrested. And now he has the gall to throw it in our faces that he’s taken the top spot?
“I bet Eva will knock you off your little mountain,” Helen boasts, pointing at me.
I’m not happy she did that. I’m no threat to him. And I’d like him to continue to believe that.
He slides me a nasty glare. “If she does, it won’t be because she’s better than me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mattie squints mean eyes at him.
He smirks. “Let’s just say…she’ll have an unfair advantage. I saw her with Jay last night. They weren’t target shooting.”
Everyone looks at me.
I wish the floor would swallow me up. Sure, I’d known all along this might happen--that all the other trainees would find out about Jay and my…friendship. But I still wasn’t ready to deal with it. I’d hoped it would stay a secret for longer, like, until we were through with training.
Jay comes out of the room at the end of the hall. His gaze jumps to me for a fraction of a moment. Then he calls, “Helen.”
Nobody speaks until after he takes away his next victim, Keith.
“Uh huh. Did you see how he keeps looking at Eva first?” Alice says.
Fran’s eyes widen. She gives me an is-it-true look.
I know I’ll be in trouble if I admit anything to anyone beyond the people who already know. So I say nothing. Knowing Alice, she would take my denial as license to tell everyone what she knows.
Fran scoots next to me, wedging herself between Mattie and my left shoulder. “What’s going on, Eva?”
“Nothing,” I tell her. My face is flaming. If she knows how to read body language I’m screwed.
“Is Alice lying?” she prods.
I stutter, “Y-yes...”
Fran’s expression goes ice cold.
Dammit, I’m such a bad liar.
Mattie interjects, “Henry‘s just trying to stir up trouble. Jay can’t show favoritism to any of us. Not for any reason.”
Fran narrows her eyes at me then at Mattie. “It’s true!” she whisper-shouts. She leans closer. “Have you…seen him naked yet? Because if you have, I want to hear every juicy detail.”
As if my face wasn’t hot enough. Now it’s blazing. “No! And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“You’re no fun.” Fran fake pouts. Then she looks at Mattie. “How can you be sure he’ll be fair? He’s one of our trainers. He decides who stays and who goes. Who’s on top and who’s on the bottom.”
“And George. And who knows who else,” I point out. “There are probably others. Claire, for one.”
Fran seems to accept my rationalization. She grins. “I can’t believe this. We have a budding romance blossoming. Here, at training camp. I never would have guessed.”
Still, despite the fact that she doesn’t seem to be holding it against me, I feel I need to make it clear nothing is going on…yet. “It’s not a romance,” I enunciate.
Her brow slants. “No?”
“No. We’re just…friends. We’ve talked. A little. Hardly at all.”
Fran is not convinced.
But I am saved, temporarily. Only because Jay calls my name.
It’s my turn.
Whatever that means.
Chapter 22
None of the trainees who have been called have returned to the hallway. Thus, I have no clue what I’m in for.
Jay leads me down the corridor. He says nothing. But that’s okay. I doubt I’d hear him over the eardrum-splitting pounding of my heartbeat anyway. At the end of the hall, he stops. His hand grips a doorknob. “Good luck,” is all he says.
I was hoping he’d give me a little hint into what I’m about to face. But, no. I guess Jay wants to keep things fair, which is the right thing to do. Either that or he wants me to fail. He said so yesterday. And warning me might mean I would pass.
Shoving aside my jangling nerves and trembling hands, I smile at him and step through the door.
Seeing four people seated at a table in front of me, I take a step. But suddenly everything goes black. Something has been thrown over my head. My body freezes and my mind tries to grasp what’s happening. I feel hands grabbing me. I’m lifted off my feet.
What’s this? It must be some kind of test. Where are they taking me? Should I let them? Or should I fight?
I can’t decide. And that scares me even more. If I don’t do something soon it might be too late. Maybe they’ll just haul me outside the compound and dump me, and that’ll be it. My career will be over before it began.
Thanks to the bag thrown over my head, I can’t see a thing. Someone has a hold of my ankles. Their grip isn’t too tight. Another someone is holding me under my arms. My hands are free.
I take a few deep breaths and then kick my feet hard. As I hoped, I take the person who had been holding my ankles by surprise. My legs fall to the ground. The person holding my upper body isn’t prepared for my reaction either. Gravity works on my side, and I slip out of his hold, landing on my ass. Hands grapple. Theirs. Mine. The air fills with the sounds of labored breathing as my captors and I wrestle. I use my legs, blindly kicking, while I yank at the hood covering my head. I hear a couple loud oofs and I smile. I’ve landed a couple of good shots. I hope it’s enough. I hope this is a test to see if I can escape.
When I was about eight, I watched a friend fall into an old water drainage shaft. One second we were racing through the woods. Then the next second time slowed. She was winning the race. She looked back at me, smiling in triumph. I saw the yawning hole in front of her. I opened my mouth to warn her. The sound took forever to escape. I reached for her. But it was no use. I watched her expression change from one of victory to shock. And then she slowly toppled over the edge. My fingers grazed hers.
It was the longest second of my life.
I will never forget that day.
Just like then, time is moving slowly now. And I know what that means. This time I am the one who is toppling over the edge, fighting not to fall.
If I lose the battle, where will I end up?
My muscles are burning. My lungs are on fire. I can’t inhale enough air. But I don’t stop fighting. Hands are grasping me everywhere. Arms. Legs. Waist. I give up trying to pull off the hood and swing my fists and kick wildly. There must be more than two people trying to restrain me now. There are too many hands. And they’re strong.
Stronger than me. Stronger than my will to fight.
I’ve lost.
My body admits defeat before my mind does. My head screams no, but I have nothing left. My wrists are bound. My ankles too. I can’t do anything but writhe like a worm. It’s useless.
If this was a test, I’ve failed.
I’ve failed everyone, including myself.
I’m dropped onto something hard. That something starts rolling. I’m being hauled away like a pig to the slaughterhouse. A tear dribbles down my cheek.
I can’t let them do this. I can’t admit defeat so quickly.
I grit my teeth and pull at the bindings holding my wrists. The rope scrapes my skin. It hurts like hell. But I can’t give up. I owe it to Mother and Father to keep fighting.
I wriggle. I writhe.
The ropes won’t come loose and they’re too tight to pull my hands through. I try my legs. The bindings at my ankles aren’t as tight. Working fast, I curl up and claw at them with my fingers. The cart is bouncing and bumping, carrying me farther and farther away from the compound. I can’t just lie here and let this happen, even if that’s
what I’m supposed to do. Something tells me I won’t be coming back if I don’t break free.
Blind, I feel the knot, finger it, trying to imagine in my head what it looks like. I follow the route of one rope and recognize the knot right away. I know it! I know how to untie it. And it isn’t hard.
My ankles are free within seconds.
I could run now. But what good would that do? I’m blind. If I tried, I would probably take two steps, smash into a tree, and knock myself out. No, I need to find a way to free my wrists and get the hood off before I make my break.
But how? How?
The cart is still rolling. I’m being carried farther and farther with every second I delay. Trying not to draw too much attention to myself, I feel around with my fingers. Would it be too much to ask for a knife? Probably. Assuming the knot on my wrist is the same as the one on my ankles, I try to untie it. I stretch my fingers. No luck. I can’t grasp the rope.
It’s hopeless. I won’t get my wrists free.
The hood. I need to get the hood off. By now, I’m sure nobody is watching me. I’ve untied my ankles. I’ve scooted around, grappling for some way to unfasten my wrists. I pull at the hood, finding a knot at the base of my skull. They’ve tied a rope around my neck. That rope is cinching the thick bag over my head so I can’t pull it off. I finger the knot. It’s good news! It’s the same knot, and this one I can untie.
Sunlight blinds me for several seconds as I push the hood back to uncover my face. We’re traveling down a narrow road. I’ve been distracted, but I’m pretty sure the cart hasn’t turned any corners yet. I glance around. The cart is covered. Nobody is in the back with me. I scoot to the edge and drop to the ground, tucking into a ball. I roll and tumble and bump into a ditch, adding a few new bruises to the ones that haven’t healed yet. Finally I stop at the bottom. Smelly water douses me. Wet and cold and scared, I push out of it and scramble to the edge of the road to see if the cart is still traveling down the road. It is.
I glance back the other way. Nobody appears to be coming. I can see at least a quarter of a mile down the road, but the thick forest flanking both sides keeps me from seeing further. Just in case there are people searching for me, I keep close to the tree line as I run back toward the compound. It’s hard to run with my arms tied together in front of my body. The weird posture puts me a little off balance. But I do my best. I stumble a few times, crashing into trees and tripping over protruding roots. I claw my way up a tree trunk and kick my feet back under my body. And off I go again, running until my lungs burn for air and I feel like I’m going to vomit. I glance back, hoping I won’t see anyone following, but half expecting it. Finally, I see the compound ahead.
I’ve made it?
I’ve made it! I did it. I escaped. I passed the test.
I half-run, half-fall to the gate. The guard gives me a funny look as I tell him my name and what’s happened. The gate opens and I stagger in.
“Is this a training exercise?” I ask the guard.
Jay steps out of the guardhouse. I can’t read his expression. He’s holding a clipboard. He shoves a hand into his pocket.
“Just under ten minutes,” he says as he brandishes a knife. “Your wrists.”
I present them, and he slices through the rope. “So, it was an exercise? How did I do?” I ask, still gulping air.
“Not bad,” he says.
“Not bad? What’s that mean?”
“The results will be posted tomorrow.” He jerks his head toward the dorm. “Better get some rest, Eva. Phase three starts tomorrow.” He smiles.
I’ve done it. I’ve made it through phase two!
Two down.
Only one more to go.
* * * * *
There are only five of us at dinner. It’s been hours since we were all sitting in the hallway, waiting for our names to be called. I wonder where the rest of the trainees have gone. Surely they’ve returned to the compound by now.
There’s me, Alice, Keith, and Damien. I’m glad Keith is among them. I stand in line with him and after we get our food, we talk about our experiences. His is identical to mine, outside of the time it took to return to the compound. After hearing he was clocked in at twenty-three minutes, I lie and tell him I didn’t hear what my time was. Fran and Isabel come staggering in as we eat. No Mattie.
When I finish dinner and return to our dorm room and Mattie still hasn’t made it back, I get worried. She’s been gone for hours. If she isn’t back soon what happens? Is she kicked out? Is she left for dead?
I need to help her. Somehow. I’m hoping Jay is at the guard shack, timing the rest of the returning trainees. Will he stop me if I try to go looking for her? Or will he turn a blind eye?
It’s worth a shot.
I tie on my running shoes and head out.
Chapter 23
Jay isn’t in the guard shack. I was hoping he would be. But no, he’s outside, watching the gate. There’s absolutely no chance I’ll get through it without him seeing me. It’s useless. So instead of trying to sneak past him, I go right up to him. “Have you seen Mattie yet?”
“No.” He doesn’t look at me. He continues staring straight ahead, as if he’s waiting for her to appear.
“What happens if she doesn’t come back?”
“She doesn’t come back.”
A boulder the size of a barn forms in my throat. “She’s just left to fend for herself?”
He nods. “It’s better for her.”
What? A flare of fury blazes through me. “How can that be better for her? To leave her out there, defenseless? Alone? That makes no sense.”
Jay finally looks at me. His expression is totally blank, void of all emotion. He doesn’t care that a girl is missing. He doesn’t give a shit.
I can’t believe this cold, heartless guy is the same one I kissed only last night. How is that possible? Do I know him at all?
“Why wouldn’t the cart driver bring her back?” I demand.
“He already returned. He left her. That’s how the exercise goes.”
“He left her. I can’t believe this,” I say, stomping toward the gate. “If you won’t go find her—“
“Eva, stop.” He grabs my arm, but I’m prepared for it.
I straighten it and spin around, jerking it free before he has a solid grip. “Fuck you.”
“Listen,” he says.
Listen. Really?
I don’t want to listen. He’s wrong. This is wrong. Somewhere out there is a girl. She’s tied up. She’s blindfolded. She’s terrified. And everyone is just going to shrug their shoulders and carry on?
Not me! I can’t do that.
I step through the open gate. Knowing he’s following, I kick into a run, taking the same course I took to return earlier. I hear shouting behind me. I hear crunching of gravel under my feet, and under Jay’s as he pursues me. The crunching is getting louder. Jay is catching up to me. I push myself harder. Legs. Arms.
My lungs burn and my heart pounds. I can’t let him stop me. I have to help my friend. I’m Mattie’s only hope.
Something slams into me from behind and in a blink I’m face down on the gravel road. Jagged stones tear my skin. It burns. Elbows, palms, knees. I struggle to roll out from under the huge, warm weight pressing me into the ground. He’s tackled me, the bastard.
He rolls me over, legs straddling my stomach. I swing at him with my fists, but he catches my wrists and pins them to the ground over my head. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”
“So are you.” I wriggle. I squirm. I kick. I can’t break free. That makes me even madder. “Let me go, dammit!”
“Not until you listen.”
“There’s nothing you can say to stop me from helping my friend,” I yell.
“What if I told you that if you leave, you’ll be arrested?”
Okay, so maybe there was something he could say to stop me. I stop trying to belt him. “What?” I say, hoping I’m misunderstanding his meaning. Surely helping a fellow tr
ainee couldn’t be grounds for arrest.
“If you leave the compound, you will be arrested,” he repeats, slower this time.
“Why?” I hate this place. I hate everything about it, especially the rules. What are they trying to teach us? How to be mindless, inhumane robots? “Why Jay?”
“Because you have abandoned your unit,” he tells me.
My head spins. It’s hard thinking this through. For one, Jay is still sitting on top of me. His fingers are wrapped around my wrists like tight cuffs. “But I haven’t abandoned anyone. I’m going to help someone, a member of my unit,” I reason. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“You’re leaving the compound without permission from your superiors.”
“But I just want to do what’s right,” I argue, as I writhe beneath him.
“I know. That’s why I’m trying to stop you.” He sighs. His hair flops down, over his forehead. “I know you have good intentions, Eva. But the rules are the rules.”
“Fuck the rules.”
“I feel the same way sometimes.” He leans upright, releases my wrists. He shoves his fingers through his hair, sweeping it back off his face. I could hit him now, but he knows I won’t. I don’t need to anymore. He’s no longer the enemy, though I hate what he’s telling me. “You told me how important it is for you to make it through this program, how much it means to your family.” He swings a leg, climbing off me.
I sit up. “Yes, I did.” I check my hands. Little splotches of blood stain my palms. “I have to make it.”
“If I let you go after Mattie, you’ll lose your rank within the agency.” He stands, offers me a hand up. “Trust me, you don’t that.”
I grimace as I push to my feet without his help. “Isn’t that what you want? You want me gone. Is it because I’m trouble? Because I can stay away--”
“No, that’s not it, and it’s not what I want.” He jams his fingers through his hair again. He audibly sighs. “It’s what I believe is best.”
I watch him for several moments, my arms a shield, crossed over my chest. He’s telling me the truth. I know it. I hate what he’s saying, but it’s all true. I let my head fall and stare down at the gravel road. “I can’t believe it’s one or the other. My friend. Or my family.”
