inward at the same time. Sitting in the middle of my room was the red scarf.
“Shit!” I heard Caden curse behind me. I guess he was running into more trouble than I.
I did a brief scan of the room and determined that it was not obviously rigged. Quickly I crossed the room and reached down to grab the scarf.
“Freeze, or I’ll shoot.”
My head snapped up at the voice. A man peeled away from the wall, aiming a very real looking gun at me.
A grunt echoed from Caden’s room. Bummer.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now.”
It was only a module. The lie should have been easy.
I swallowed. “I can’t.”
He lifted the gun and fired.
Chapter 9
“ Great. Tardy exercises , and now I failed my first partner module.”
“ — Eff — off,” I wheezed between push-ups. I didn’t know a body could handle this much physical activity in a single day.
“No talking!” Coach Painter yelled. I think he was taking our failure personally.
At least the gun was unloaded. I still almost peed my pants when the guy aiming the gun at me had pulled the trigger and I heard the click of an empty chamber.
After gym class, Caden and I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon attending Global Relations, followed by Language Acquisition. Apparently those weren’t the only classes I’d be attending; I also had weaponry, etiquette, and professional profiling classes later this week.
The day should’ve been over after Global Relations, but thanks to our tardy attendance this morning we were now working out for the second time today.
My puny arms could no longer push my body up and down. I collapsed onto the mat, my muscles spasming from the exertion.
“Pierce!” Coach had quickly moved from not knowing my name to being on a last-name basis with me. “Why have you stopped?”
“I can’t do any more push-ups.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” I could tell Coach was a wily one from the lilt of his voice. “Let’s switch to some stadiums.”
I wanted to cry as I scraped my body off of the track and walked towards the cement stairs built into the stadium that surrounded the track. My tour had not included this football stadium, probably because it sat deep in the woods behind the facility.
“Pierce!” he yelled behind me. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Do five sets of four, and then you’ll be done for the day.”
“You want me to do twenty stadiums? All the way up?” There had to be at least forty stairs. Forty. Who even used this stupid stadium? All the forest creatures? There weren’t enough people in the surrounding fifty miles to fill these bleachers up.
“No Pierce,” Coach Painter said, “I only want you to run the first two sets — and only halfway up.”
“Really?” I asked, hopeful.
“No. Now get moving! And Hawthorne, get up off the ground and join her. That’s five sets of eight for you.”
“Coach — ” Caden began.
“Listen guys, this isn’t Rhetoric. I don’t care about your diction or your arguments. Now get moving, I want to go home before the sun rises.”
Forget prison, I’d been recruited into hell.
That evening, after I’d loaded my plate with food, I walked past the rows of occupied tables and made a beeline for an empty one towards the back of the room. My skin felt hot as several pairs of eyes tracked my progress. One pair in particular caught mine.
I briefly met Caden’s gaze. He sat in the middle of a crowded table — next to Desiree — the center of attention. Despite my talent for understanding body language, his eyes were unreadable. I looked away, too tired to attempt to be social.
I collapsed into an empty chair at the back of the room, my legs still weak from stadiums. I’d managed to do all twenty of them, but it took an hour and a whole lot of will power. I thought I was in shape. Trying to survive for ten minutes each night was incentive enough to work out. But this was different. I already knew I was going to
“Shit!” I heard Caden curse behind me. I guess he was running into more trouble than I.
I did a brief scan of the room and determined that it was not obviously rigged. Quickly I crossed the room and reached down to grab the scarf.
“Freeze, or I’ll shoot.”
My head snapped up at the voice. A man peeled away from the wall, aiming a very real looking gun at me.
A grunt echoed from Caden’s room. Bummer.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now.”
It was only a module. The lie should have been easy.
I swallowed. “I can’t.”
He lifted the gun and fired.
Chapter 9
“ Great. Tardy exercises , and now I failed my first partner module.”
“ — Eff — off,” I wheezed between push-ups. I didn’t know a body could handle this much physical activity in a single day.
“No talking!” Coach Painter yelled. I think he was taking our failure personally.
At least the gun was unloaded. I still almost peed my pants when the guy aiming the gun at me had pulled the trigger and I heard the click of an empty chamber.
After gym class, Caden and I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon attending Global Relations, followed by Language Acquisition. Apparently those weren’t the only classes I’d be attending; I also had weaponry, etiquette, and professional profiling classes later this week.
The day should’ve been over after Global Relations, but thanks to our tardy attendance this morning we were now working out for the second time today.
My puny arms could no longer push my body up and down. I collapsed onto the mat, my muscles spasming from the exertion.
“Pierce!” Coach had quickly moved from not knowing my name to being on a last-name basis with me. “Why have you stopped?”
“I can’t do any more push-ups.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” I could tell Coach was a wily one from the lilt of his voice. “Let’s switch to some stadiums.”
I wanted to cry as I scraped my body off of the track and walked towards the cement stairs built into the stadium that surrounded the track. My tour had not included this football stadium, probably because it sat deep in the woods behind the facility.
“Pierce!” he yelled behind me. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Do five sets of four, and then you’ll be done for the day.”
“You want me to do twenty stadiums? All the way up?” There had to be at least forty stairs. Forty. Who even used this stupid stadium? All the forest creatures? There weren’t enough people in the surrounding fifty miles to fill these bleachers up.
“No Pierce,” Coach Painter said, “I only want you to run the first two sets — and only halfway up.”
“Really?” I asked, hopeful.
“No. Now get moving! And Hawthorne, get up off the ground and join her. That’s five sets of eight for you.”
“Coach — ” Caden began.
“Listen guys, this isn’t Rhetoric. I don’t care about your diction or your arguments. Now get moving, I want to go home before the sun rises.”
Forget prison, I’d been recruited into hell.
That evening, after I’d loaded my plate with food, I walked past the rows of occupied tables and made a beeline for an empty one towards the back of the room. My skin felt hot as several pairs of eyes tracked my progress. One pair in particular caught mine.
I briefly met Caden’s gaze. He sat in the middle of a crowded table — next to Desiree — the center of attention. Despite my talent for understanding body language, his eyes were unreadable. I looked away, too tired to attempt to be social.
I collapsed into an empty chair at the back of the room, my legs still weak from stadiums. I’d managed to do all twenty of them, but it took an hour and a whole lot of will power. I thought I was in shape. Trying to survive for ten minutes each night was incentive enough to work out. But this was different. I already knew I was going to
Similar Books
