“Squid!” The Bear yelled. “What on the Ancestors’ red earth are you doing? You are perhaps the worst trainee I have ever seen. Boys, please take this dirt lifter as an example of what not to do.”
Some of the other boys sniggered under their breath. Darius laughed out loud.
“I didn’t tell you to laugh, Darius! You’re a no-good dirt lifter too!” The Bear turned his attention to the whole group. “I don’t expect much of you, boys. None of you Outsiders have even the thinnest of ties to Alice. You will likely never progress beyond Apprentices, but since you are here it is my job to raise you out of the dirt. The Diggers need everyone we can get. I don’t expect you to be master swordsmen, but I expect you to at least be proficient enough that you won’t cut off your own face.” The Bear sighed.
“I hate giving inspirational speeches,” Squid heard the Training Master mumble under his breath before raising his voice again. “Considering how I’m in a good mood today we will have half an hour of free practice and then breakfast. After that your morning belongs to the Sisters. Try to copy the forms I showed you. Get a feel for the sword before tomorrow. Remember to keep your weight balanced; you don’t want to overcommit and leave yourself vulnerable after a parry. Now get on with it, you useless dogs.”
The boys began swinging the wooden swords through the air.
“I trust I can leave you to handle this for a few minutes,” The Bear said. “I have matters to attend to.” He began walking away across the yard. He got a few steps before he turned back. “And don’t go practicing on each other. I don’t want any more casualties.”
Squid raised and lowered the sword a few times, trying to get a feel for the weight of the thing. It just seemed so unwieldy in his hand. The tools on the farm were bad enough but this was worse. This was just like the axe. He knew what he needed to do but he couldn’t get his body to do it.
“Stinky!”
Squid turned instinctively; the voice belonged to Darius. Most of the boys were gathered in a rough circle. Tank was standing inside, holding his wooden training sword.
“We’re having proper practice sessions,” Darius said. “We decided that you’re up first, against Tank.”
“But The Bear said …” Squid started.
“The Bear has obviously gone to beat everyone to breakfast. He won’t be back,” said Darius. “Besides, the only way we’re going to learn properly is if we get in and have a go.”
“I don’t think so,” Squid said. “I’m not very good. Someone else can go first.”
Darius approached Squid and grabbed his loose gray uniform around the neck, twisting his fist and pulling him in close. Squid could see the pores in his skin. Squid felt the coarse material tighten around the back of his neck.
“Unfortunately you don’t get a choice.” Darius jammed his fist up under Squid’s chin in a quick punch, then began to drag Squid toward the circle. Squid grabbed at Darius’s hands, trying to wrench his grip free, but the other boy was too strong. He dug his heels into the ground and leaned backward. This caused problems for Darius, at least momentarily.
“Glenden, Rusty!” Darius called out as he fought to drag Squid, “come help me!”
Glenden and Rusty eagerly helped Darius pull Squid toward the ring of boys, who had already started cheering. Squid was soon in a familiar situation, being thrown face first into the dirt. Unfortunately this was not something that became less demeaning with repetition. It was certainly made worse, however, when Squid looked up to see a person who was not called Tank for nothing standing in front of him wielding a sword, even if that sword was just a wooden one.
Tank smiled. At sixteen he was a big lumbering boy who was fitted with his own natural armor, a layer of blubber that should have been all but impossible to acquire in the poor region he came from.
“Get up, Rat Licker,” Tank said.
“Hold on,” called Darius. He walked into the circle and dropped the slightly bent wooden sword on the ground in front of Squid. “He dropped this,” he said.
Squid lifted himself to his feet. If he didn’t pick up the sword then the fight wouldn’t go ahead; it was dishonorable to attack an unarmed opponent (unless it was a ghoul), they had learned this only yesterday. Squid didn’t move. That was the answer; he just wouldn’t pick up the sword.
“Get it,” Tank said.
Squid stood, clutching at his key. His hands were shaking and he felt like he might vomit.
“I said, get it.”
Tank began moving toward him, wooden sword at the ready. Squid took a step back. He turned, but was encircled by the other boys. There was nowhere to go. As he turned back he saw that Tank had thrown the bent wooden sword at him. Squid caught it clumsily before it struck him in the face. He realized too late that this was what Tank wanted.
Tank raised his sword and Squid lifted his own in a half-hearted defense. It made no difference, though; Squid felt Tank’s sword strike his own and slam it back into his face. He felt the sharp moment of shock as the flat of his own wooden blade bashed into his nose. The instant of numbness subsided and Squid felt blinding pain. He grabbed at his nose, pinching his nostrils shut. The metallic taste of blood filled the back of his throat.
As Tank wheeled back for a second blow, Squid turned away, trying to protect his face. He waited for the blow to fall but instead heard the clack of another sword catching Tank’s. Squid hesitated for a second before peeking out from under his arm. His gallant savior was Max. His fine features had given way to a scowl that was directed furiously at Tank.
“If you step away right now,” Max said, “well … then you’ll be able to step away.”
Tank pushed down on his sword, and Max’s blade began to lower, but only slowly. Max was strong.
“No interference,” Darius called from the circle.
Max called back, “Why don’t you call off your fat dog?”
Tank pushed down harder on his sword. Max was visibly slipping now. His arms were about to give way.
“I think I’ll leave him to finish you off,” Darius said.
“Very well,” Max said. He pulled the blade out from under Tank’s sword fast enough that the fat boy stumbled forward. As Tank was trying to regain his balance Max kicked out his front foot, and Tank fell, landing heavily in the red dirt.
“A swordsman must always watch their feet,” Max said with a smile, “but a master swordsman will always watch his opponent’s feet too.”
“Rusty, Glenden,” Darius said to the two boys who flanked him like overzealous bodyguards, “do something about this, will you?”
Rusty and Glenden moved into the circle. A low chorus of “ooooooohhhhs” built up from the ring of boys. Tank began to push himself up, but Max stepped on the back of his head, pushing his face into the dirt as he moved toward Rusty and Glenden. Squid watched as Max spun the sword around him so fast that it blurred into a twirl of wood. It was clear that he was much more practiced with a sword than any of the other boys. Upon seeing this display Glenden stopped, suddenly a little hesitant. Rusty looked back at Darius.
“Don’t worry, Darius,” he said, “I’ll handle this little runt.”
Rusty raised his sword and charged at Max. Granted, Rusty’s charge was quite impressive, complete with war cry, but when he reached Max it was all to no avail. Max sidestepped quickly and brought his sword down with a low slice to the back of Rusty’s knee. Rusty turned and swung the sword at Max’s head. Max ducked and lashed out with the point of his blade. The wooden training swords had blunted ends, but that wasn’t a large consolation to Rusty as the end of the sword landed in his unmentionables. He buckled over.
“It’s not right to hit somebody there,” Glenden said and he stepped forward again. Max began moving toward him, light on his feet, gathering speed.
“You’re probably right,” Max said as he brought his sword down. Glenden parried the blow awkwardly. Max was quick to slide the blade off and then strike low. He hit him just above the hip and then his blad
e darted high again, then to the side, then low. Glenden was tied in a knot of confusion by the time Max brought the sword down hard on his forehead. The sickening crack and instant display of blood made the boys watching groan empathetically.
One of the boys on the outer edge of the circle called out. “Look out, he’s coming!”
“What in Ancestors’ hell is going on?” It was the unmistakable sound of The Bear on a rampage. “I told you putrid little turds not to practice on each other!”
The Bear breached the circle as the boys scattered, some attempting to resume their independent practice and hoping the main culprits would bear the brunt of his anger. The Bear caught sight of the scene. Tank was lying face down on the ground. Rusty was doubled over in the dust, moaning softly and clasping his groin. Squid was standing watching, a trickle of blood dripping from his nose and a tinge of purple in his eye sockets. Glenden was holding his profusely bleeding forehead. Max was standing before him, proudly admiring his handiwork, and Darius was nowhere to be seen.
“Someone had better start explaining,” The Bear said, the vein in his forehead threatened to burst and spray them all with the liquid anger that coursed through his body. “What happened?”
It was Glenden who spoke first. “He … he belted us up.” He pointed to Max. “He’s a psycho.”
The Bear looked at the five boys. “What, all of you? He took all of you down?”
Glenden, Rusty and Tank were silent. Not that Rusty could have spoken even if he had wanted to. He was rocking from side to side on his back, his knees curled to his chest.
“No,” said Squid quietly, “he didn’t fight me. He stuck up for me.”
Max looked at Squid. Squid managed a smile but didn’t receive one in return.
“But you,” The Bear said, looking at Max, “you took out these three.”
“Yes,” said Max.
The Bear snorted, which was most likely a sound of approval, but it was always difficult to tell with him. “You three drag yourselves to the infirmary and I’ll deal with you later.” He turned to Max. “You can go to my office and wait. I think the Dean needs to have a word with you.” Finally he gazed over to Squid. “That’s broken I’d say, come here.”
Rusty, Glenden and Tank began to move back across the yard, leaning on each other in an exaggerated display of suffering. Squid threw his sword at the ground, tip first, but the red dirt was too hard for it to stick in impressively, and instead it fell on its side. Scooping it up, he walked over to The Bear. The Bear looked at his nose and prodded it gently with his forefinger.
“Ouch,” said Squid instinctively.
“Yep,” said The Bear. “Squeeze the hilt of your sword.”
“What?” asked Squid, but it was too late. The Bear cupped Squid’s nose between his fingers and slid his hands down. There was an audible click. Squid squeezed the hilt of his sword hard enough that his knuckles turned white. He screamed, or more accurately, and more embarrassingly, he squealed. Squid’s world grew blurrier than usual and his head felt light. It occurred to some part of him that it would be easier to cope with all this pain if he were asleep. He closed his eyes and fell backward.
CHAPTER 18
Lynn walked down the corridor. No, not Lynn, Max … Max … She had to think of herself as Max now. She couldn’t risk making a mistake and being found out. She thought, not for the first time, just how stupid an idea this was. What was she even doing? Did she honestly believe this could work? Eventually they would discover who she was and she’d be kicked out. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t become a Sister, she couldn’t be like them, she couldn’t treat people the way they did. She’d made it all the way to the Academy. She couldn’t get caught now. She had to focus.
Fleeing from the cathedral had been easier than she’d imagined. For all the intensity of her conviction that she was imprisoned there, all she’d needed to do was wait for dark, lower her bed sheet out the bathroom window and climb down. Avoiding the Holy Order guards in the courtyard had been tricky but she’d stolen into the Diggers’ training yard so often to borrow training swords that she was well practiced at sneaking around.
A trip through someone’s backyard and a visit to their clothesline had netted her boys’ clothes, and a visit to her now empty house had allowed her to collect the bag of money she knew her father kept in his desk drawer. Then she was on her way.
There was a story she’d heard at school once, about an older boy who had left Alice and run away to work at a bio-fuel production plant somewhere in the Outside. Everyone said he’d hitched a ride on one of the bio-trucks leaving Alice. They said that if you had enough money they’d let you hide among the cargo and ride out of the city and happily drop you anywhere that was on their route.
She’d made her way to one of the smaller gates on the far side of Alice, through which food and produce were brought into the city. She’d paid a bio-truck crew, probably more than she should have, and that was that. She’d ridden in a bio-truck trailer all the way to the Rock. Now she was here, ready to blend in for as long as she could, although things hadn’t gone particularly well so far.
Lynn approached the door to the Training Master’s office. The other Scants were on a break now, most likely lying on their beds in the barracks rubbing their sore palms and complaining about one thing or another, but ever since the fight that stupid boy Darius had started, Lynn had been on extra duties, tasked with jobs for The Bear. She was just about to knock when she stopped herself; there were voices coming from inside.
“And what about the Scants?” Lynn could hear The Bear asking. “Any chance they won’t be useless?”
“They are actually progressing quite well,” another voice answered. Lynn was reasonably sure it was Lieutenant Walter. “Some way to go still, of course, but most of them are Outsiders fresh out of rural areas.”
“So I’ve noticed,” The Bear answered. “Like that Squid boy.”
“Yes, sir, he and a number of the others have come from dirt-farming communities.”
“He’s useless.”
Lynn strained to listen. She could tell Walter was speaking quietly.
“I wouldn’t say that, sir. There is work to be done, I’ll admit, but he is intelligent, very intelligent.”
“Unfortunately,” The Bear said, “intelligence is not what an Apprentice needs, especially these ones. They will find themselves on the edge of battle before they are ready. They need bravery and natural skill, neither of which Squid has.”
“Yes, sir,” Walter answered.
“Your orders were to recruit boys with potential, not absolute wastes of space.”
“Yes, sir,” Walter answered again, “but he’s—”
“No buts about it,” The Bear said, cutting him off. “If he doesn’t have it in him, cut him loose. That goes for any of them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We won’t be sending you on recruitment detail again if this is what you return with.”
“Yes, sir, I understand, sir.” There was quiet for a moment. “Is there anything else, sir?”
Lynn could feel the tension seeping out beneath the door.
“No,” The Bear said, “you are dismissed.”
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Walter said, “thank you, sir.”
Lynn jumped back from the door as it opened inward. She stepped sideways and stood next to the door as casually as she could. Lieutenant Walter looked at her for just a moment before striding off down the corridor. Lynn waited and, as Ms Apple had always advised, counted slowly to ten before knocking.
The Bear’s gruff voice called out from within. “Yes?”
“It’s Max, sir.”
“Enter,” called The Bear, mumbling something about Scants.
Lynn walked into The Bear’s office. It was a stuffy room filled with thick air that smelled of liquor and time. The Bear was shuffling through papers on his desk, wiping away the thin layer of dust that covered one of them. It was a map. Lynn saw that it had
a town marked on it: Dust, the place Squid was from. The Bear was reading from a letter and marking a large area on the map in red, adding arrows that pointed directly toward Dust. Lynn couldn’t help but notice the open, half-empty bottle beside him.
On the map Lynn read the words “breach location,” “fall-back line” and several other notations of dates and directions of movement. It didn’t take long for her to understand. There had been rumors floating around the Rock that there’d been a big breach in the fence. It looked like it was true. They were tracking the movements of a horde of ghouls.
After some minutes of being ignored Lynn stepped forward. “Sir?”
The Bear was startled for a moment, seeming to have forgotten Lynn was even in the room.
“What?” The Bear eventually snapped.
“Uh, I’m reporting for extra duties.”
The Bear stared at Lynn for a moment and then, as if realizing who was standing before him, folded the map over, hiding it from view.
“Out!” The Bear called. “No extra duties today. You are dismissed.”
Lynn hurried out the door before The Bear changed his mind.
CHAPTER 19
That afternoon they had sword training again. Lynn ran through the motions that the instructor, Sergeant Francis, had showed them. They were simple movements, a step forward slash and a step back parry, so easy that Lynn could perform them almost without thinking. She found herself watching Squid. He was playing with the gauze cloth that had been jammed up his nose to staunch the bleeding. The doctor said it had to stay in for three days. It was obviously itchy, and more than once Lynn had seen Squid forget to breathe through his mouth and begin to gag uncontrollably. Lynn couldn’t help but think about what The Bear had said as she watched Squid practicing with his wooden sword. His step forward slash resulted in a sharp cracking sound as he struck his own knee. Then, during his back parry, he smashed himself in his already broken nose, causing him to cry out and drop the sword to the ground.
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