by Y A Marks
“Who is that?” I asked.
Dalton smiled. “I…I hadn’t expected that to be your first question. But, no problem.”
Dalton turned toward Norwood and motioned for him to do something. Norwood glanced around his desk. He tapped a few buttons, and the windows near the mystery man began to solidify and darken. Soon, enough of the man appeared for me to clearly make him out. He was the heavy-set man I had seen a few days ago in the Police Mobile Unit at Perimeter Market. He was the one smiling at me when I flew over the hovering facility.
“Paeton, this is Elton Troy. He’s a retired general from the Army.”
Troy was in his late sixties or early seventies with large arms and thick legs. He wasn’t rotund like Governor Read. This man was strong and sturdy. He fumbled with a wide-brimmed, beige hat in his hands. The hat looked like one that people wear for fishing trips. Unlike the other men, both dressed in suits, Troy was dressed as though he were about to go on vacation with jeans and a button down, plaid shirt.
“Is General Troy heading to Adventure Land?” I asked.
Troy laughed. He leaned forward and spoke with a husky voice that cracked. “Not at all, young lady.”
“So, just heading home then? I hope I didn’t burden your trip too badly.”
“Concerns of the state are my concerns as well. Everything is connected.”
“Oh, okay,” I said.
Dalton pocketed his hands. “Anything else you’d like to know, Paeton?”
“No, I don’t think so. I just wanted to know who you were: Clarisse, Norwood, Troy, and Dalton.”
“Nothing about your friends in Escerica or anything like that?”
“Mmmm, nope.” My mind was clear and I knew what I wanted from these people. Any information they would give me beyond a few, minute details or easy, Internet searches, I refused to believe. Why would they tell me anything that wouldn’t come back to haunt me later? I wasn’t dumb enough to believe in those in power. I had seen enough even at the Stadium to know that.
“Well,” Dalton said. “If that’s it, then I guess we are done here.”
“Okay,” I said, my voice musical.
Dalton opened the door and signaled for one of the guards to come into the office and retrieve me.
Clarisse stepped forward. “I have a question for you, Paeton.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Why did you want to know our names?”
The guard turned off the magnetic field and grabbed my shoulder.
Giddiness slid out of my pores as I stared into Clarisse’s eyes. The last part of my humanity faded away. “So I’ll know who to kill.”
I was no longer a helpless, little girl. My luck with Governor Read had dissolved, and it was time to show I could be just as badass as they come. I was about to go into prison with murderers, gang members, and rapists. I had to be strong, powerful, and just as nasty as the rest to survive. I refused to be afraid of Dalton, Norwood, and Clarisse. If they wanted a monster, then I damn sure would give them one.
The guard yanked me backward. His eyes cut into mine before he glanced back to those in Norwood’s office. I spun around and stumbled out of the room. My heart brimmed with excitement. Before the doors closed, Dalton and Norwood started arguing. Troy, however, was laughing.
***
The guards took me to a hallway that ended in a set of stairs and an elevator. We stepped inside the elevator and it began its ascent, but for some reason, it wasn’t just going up, but also backward as well. When we reached the top, I moved into a tiny room. There were windows on all sides except where the elevator was. Through the windows, I saw what appeared to be Norwood’s office. I hobbled closer to the windows while the guards fumbled with some electronic controls and called someone to confirm a few things.
The massive, prison landscape laid before me, like a small city. It had to be at least ten-square-miles or more. I noticed a piece of the building that I was standing in and figured that I must be atop a giant half-arch that started on the ground. It must take prisoners at least ten stories over the prison.
A whooshing noise spun me around. There was a huge opening in the middle of the room. I hobbled closer. The closer I got to the hole, the more I saw that there was nothing on the other side but open air.
I took a step back. “Am I supposed to jump?” My back tightened and an awkward feeling took over me. Anxiety scratched my torso in waves but faded. I should have been scared, but for some reason, the emotion wouldn’t manifest. It was trapped inside of me, flowing through my muscle and tingling my skin, but nothing more.
The guard closest to me, the one standing, grinned.
The two guards exchanged glances and the one who sat behind a desk waved his hand. “We usually push people. They rarely jump. But if you want to jump, be my guest.”
I glanced at the hole in the floor, at least a dozen feet in diameter. I battled against my nature, against who I was. My mind pushed and pulled me in two, different directions. The kind, hopeful Paeton who stayed out of trouble fought against the new Paeton, who was filled with anger, logic, and malice.
I took a step forward and glanced down at the ten-story drop. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to stop, but I noticed a gigantic ring like the one in Norwood’s office. It was dusty, but it was there and about a hundred times the size.
“So, I guess there’s a reverse magnet down there,” I said.
“Yeah,” the sitting guard said.
“And it works with these rings?” I asked, touching the metallic rings around my wrists.
“Yeah.”
The standing guard shrugged and moved a few feet toward me. This was the part where he would make his move, but I had an idea in mind. His face was relaxed, and I could tell he wasn’t frightened by me in the least. Taking care of a tiny sixteen-year-old was the least of his worries today.
The closer he got, the more I tore away my reservations.
“You sure that thing down there is on?” I asked.
“Yep, a hundred percent positive,” the standing guard said.
A thought occurred to me at that moment, a thought that brightened my expression. “Can Norwood and Dalton see the prison from here?”
The standing guard stopped and eyed the other. Both of them mentally confirmed that such information wasn’t harmful. “Yes, he can see the whole prison from his office.”
I nodded while anticipation tingled on my skin. They had done this to me, Dalton and his tangled three—terrible trio, treacherous triad, t—ah, forget it. I’d figure out a name for them later. I was anxious to show I wasn’t some pathetic teenager.
The guard made a final step toward me, removing any distance between him and the open hole. My body relaxed, and I drifted into him as though I was dizzy. In my relaxed state, his hands went from an aggressive pushing gesture to a comforting one. I fell into him, and he lifted me for a second.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah, just a bit woozy, the height I guess.” I stood up and reassured him that I was okay with a light expression. Before he could recognize his error, I grinned and fell backward through the hole. As he grew smaller in my vision and my hair tumbled through my gaze, he’d understand the trouble he would be in, in a few minutes.
I decided not to look down. I wasn’t afraid of heights, but ten stories was a death drop. It wasn’t logical to entertain my possible death.
The brisk air fluttered through my clothes and chilled my skin. My stomach jumped with the complete feeling of weightlessness before it calmed as my body slowed. My hair fell away behind my head, and my body stopped a few feet from the ground. I rotated around and noticed five, large buildings in front of me and what had to be thousands of faces watching my every move.
I stood and the force from the reverse magnets faded. I could finally move my right and left hands the way I wanted without the counter push of the larger circled magnet.
A gasp came from the crowd as they noticed the gun in my hand, a gift f
rom the guard above. He was so worried about me being a rebel, but he should have known that I was a thief first. I wasn’t perfect with the bump and grab, but I wasn’t too bad either.
I scanned the new landscape and discovered Norwood’s office, which sat jutting out near the left-hand side. The 270-degree view was unmistakable. I stiffened the gun in my hand and aimed it near the front of the office. Twenty bursts bellowed from the gun’s barrel.
Movement flurried near the newly cracked glass. Four figures came to the 270-degree surrounding windows. I couldn’t make out the faces, but I had a good guess that they were my friends from a few minutes ago. One of them banged on the window. Two stared. The final one, who was probably Troy, bounced in place as though he was having the best time of his life.
I wrapped both hands around the grip of the gun to steady it. Even though I couldn’t tell who was who, I did my best to put a bullet in the glass near each one of their faces. The gun’s barrel exploded five more times. With my bad aim, I’d probably only gotten one shot right. I hoped the bullet cracked the window right in front of Clarisse.
They bolted back in various ways from the glass. It was enough.
Three clicks sounded from the gun before I tossed it. It was out of ammo, and I didn’t need it anymore. I arched my back toward my four friends, placed a smile on my lips, and waved.
CHAPTER 8
The four people at the window disappeared into the middle of Norwood’s office and out of my sight. I could have worried about any penalties they might try to impose on me because of my behavior, but honestly what more could they do? They had put me in here to die.
My gaze slid from Norwood’s office to the five groups of people watching me with eager eyes and hushed voices. Each group huddled in a gigantic, barn-like thing that was partially covered with a metal roof. Underneath the roof were bleachers for the prisoners to sit on. There were five bleachers which were arranged outward from where I was in almost a perfect half-circle. At the far right was Norwood’s office which completed the half circle, around the magnetic circle I stood in.
The sun was midway in the sky hiding behind a few clouds, which marred the blue sky as though someone had used an eraser to remove some of the colors.
I studied the nervous faces. I had heard that within the prison system people formed gangs to survive, but these groups were different than a gang. There were men and women. Some looked like their lives had been harder than others. In three of the groups, I spotted little faces peeking from around the bodies. I always knew kids could be incorporated into the prison system. Several kids were under seven, and a few women cradled babies.
I took a step forward. A few of the little faces disappeared. The adults shifted their eyes back and forth among the five groups. After a silence that seemed to last an eternity, a man stepped forward from the group to my far left. He wore a pristine, blue jumpsuit. It was a bright blue, like the sky when the sun is at its highest. Around his neck was a rope with tiny, metal balls attached to it like pearls. The balls appeared similar to the metal around my ankles and wrists. It didn’t take me long to understand that his metal ball necklace had crunched up magnetic bracelets from past kills.
The man waved his hand and leaned onto a cane before announcing, “The Rattlers claim this new arrival.”
I guessed this was how it was. A new person gets sent to a gang or whatever. It didn’t matter who picked me. The anger inside of me increased exponentially. I was ready to do what I had to do to not only survive, but to win.
Someone from my three o’clock laughed. The blue man turned toward the other man who was dressed in the same bright orange that I was. He was as old as the blue jumpsuit man but had a patch that covered his right eye. The orange guy had a cane decorated with the metal balls. Even though he leaned on the cane, I had a hunch that the orange guy was not a person to meddle with.
“Don’t be ludicrous, the Originals claim this girl,” the orange guy said.
I grinned. They were fighting over me. My gun stunt proved that I was worth something. A smile curled my lips and warmed my stomach. I was beginning to like the new Paeton.
The man in blue glanced back at his group to gain support. A few of his people nodded their heads. He turned back to the older man in orange. “I’ve already claimed her for the Rattlers.”
As my breath escaped into the cool air around me, my chest rose with each passing moment. My smile was no longer hidden but pulled to the side in a devilish grin. Watching the display was amusing. I wondered what they would think of the old Paeton, who would probably be running for her life right now, scared to death. I couldn’t know whether they had a clue of who I was. However, the gunshots let them know more in a few seconds than watching me on television for hours would have.
“We don’t yield to you,” the blue Rattler guy said.
A man pushed out from the blue crowd. He was at least seven feet tall and teaming with muscle. He rolled his fingers into fists and stared at the old man in blue who had spoken first.
The man in orange thinned his eyes as he studied the tall man. Finally, the man in orange waved his hands in defeat. The tall man took a few steps toward me before another voice rang out.
“Touch the girl, and I’ll kill you where you stand,” the voice said.
I craned my head around and saw the sixth group of people sitting atop a small wall. A man around forty-five made eye contact with me and then returned his gaze outward toward the others.
The old man grumbled. “You’re late to this party, Jonas. There have already been two circles to claim the girl.”
“Well, now there are three,” Jonas said. “But this circle has about a half a dozen weapons that can span that distance and take out your man in less than a second.”
I giggled. I liked this kind of attention. This was almost as great as when I met my reporter fans earlier today. A girl could get used to this—this power.
Jonas stretched his arms like he was waking up from a nap. Holding what appeared to be make-shift bows and arrows, four people pointed their weapons toward the scene.
“I would have thought you would save those for tomorrow and the beginning of the Death Days. You’ve spoiled your element of surprise,” the blue guy said.
“If you say so,” Jonas said. “Now, are we going to continue talking about this or will your best defense for tomorrow’s Death Days already be dead before you can use him?”
The man in blue narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he opened his hands outward and bowed, conceding defeat. The seven-foot man turned, grunted, and walked back toward his circle.
I faced the man, Jonas, sitting atop the roof. His group was dressed in dark gray and black. Those around him were younger, mostly teenagers and twenty-somethings.
I thinned my eyes at Jonas. He had gone through a bit of trouble and lost a bit of the element of surprise in order to get me in his circle, his gang thing. “You really think I’m worth the extra effort?”
“You’ll do,” Jonas said.
“So, what do I call your circle? That’s what you’ll call your groups right, circles?”
“Yes, in here there are six circles. You’ve seen the Rattlers and the Originals. The others are Razorbacks in red, the Circle of Life in white, and the Capones in green.”
“And you are?” I said, slightly annoyed.
“Oh, just call us the Nobodys.”
***
We left the open area around Circle One, as Jonas called it. The magnetic circle was named “One” because it was the place that a prisoner entered. He guided me toward the left with Circle One behind us while the other circle groups disbanded and angled to unknown destinations, marching through tall grasses.
I turned to Jonas when we were two hundred yards or so away. Something had been itching at the back of my mind since I saw him. He had said that his circle was the Nobodys. If they had no connection to me, why would he take a chance? It didn’t make sense.
“Thanks, I guess,” I said, not
sure what kind of attitude that he was exuding from me. I was part angry, part confused, and a little curious.
“No problem.”
“Nobodys, that’s such an odd name. You seem like another group I know.”
He glared with a tight forehead. “You seemed smarter on the news.”
I drew back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re in prison with people that you don’t know. You find yourself within a circle of people who kind of remind you of another group of people, yet you don’t make the connection. I’m wondering if you are worth anything.”
Before I could respond, a skinny guy to my right started laughing. “Can we take her back?” he asked.
Three of the other people walking with us, two girls and a heavy-set guy randomly tossed out jokes. “Can we get a new video game system instead?” “No, no, a weekend in Tahiti.” “I tell you, can I just get a bra, a decent, sports bra is all I’m asking for.”
My blood started to boil. I was about to curse this new guy into oblivion when he turned to me and grinned. His expression was odd. In a brief moment, it cooled all the fires that were flaring. It was familiar and comfortable. His face was like a prince from an animated movie.
“Are you guys in Escer—” I started.
He put a finger over my lips. “No, I said we’re the Nobodys. We’re nobody and that’s that.”
Nodding, I closed my mouth and pressed my teeth together. Escerica having members in prison was expected. The fact that they had found a way to stick together wasn’t. I was sure this whole ‘Nobody’ thing didn’t fool Norwood or Dalton. I guessed that like with me, Norwood and Dalton needed a good excuse for every death. They just couldn’t go around killing people without evidence or at least some kind of reasoning.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jonas said. “And you’ve probably come to the right conclusion. But, not all of us have ties to a larger group on the outside.”