by Tarah Benner
“So what is it?” he presses.
“I need you to ask Brooke to do something for me.”
Miles snickers. “I know it must get lonely being Lieutenant Asshole, but I am not sharing.”
I kick him in the leg. “No, I just need her to check on a transaction for me.”
Brooke is an Operations worker in the financial department. If anyone can access Recon’s financial statements, it’s her.
Miles raises an eyebrow. “A transaction?”
“From the board.”
For a second, I can tell I’ve shocked Miles, but he recovers his sarcasm almost immediately. “Oh, you want my girlfriend to break the law for you and risk cage time? No problem.” His voice is light, but it has deadly “don’t fuck with me” undertones.
I roll my eyes. “It’s important.”
“No. No way. I’m already on thin ice with her. I can’t ask her to do this!”
I swallow. I know Miles and Brooke have been fighting lately. They were sweethearts before our Bid Day, and getting placed in different tiers almost broke them up.
Brooke wants to get married, but she doesn’t understand the rules. Tier-three guys don’t marry tier-two girls. Tier-three guys don’t marry anyone.
Miles would be shunned down here if he was lucky — sent out on a suicide mission if he wasn’t. If they had a kid, it would end up in the Institute and would never know them — same as any Fringe baby, same as Miles.
“Please. Just ask her. I want to find out how we got sixty thousand credits to bid on a recruit and where the money went.”
“Are you serious? You want my girlfriend to risk everything to satisfy your curiosity?”
“She got a forty-six, Miles. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Is this about that hot little Systems dropout? Shit, I’d pay sixty thousand for her.”
I wince, fighting the image of Miles going to town on Harper. “You know what I mean. It’s weird that Jayden bid so much.”
“I’m going to need more than ‘it’s weird’ to get me to ask Brooke to do this. What’s really going on with this girl?”
I take a deep breath, wondering how much I dare tell Miles. “She says she found out that eighty percent of your VocAps score is based on your genes. All the people they think aren’t going to live long are scored low so they end up in tier three.”
“Shit. How does she know?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Miles shakes his head. I can tell he’s just as shocked as I am, probably wondering where he could have ended up if it weren’t for his genes.
Miles is smart — smart enough to have ended up in Health and Rehab, probably. But he wanted to become a merchant so he could run his own business. Instead, he got stuck taking orders and trying to be okay with the three weeks between hell every month.
We’re silent for several minutes, and then he lets out a low stream of profanity. I know he’s connecting the dots. He’s wondering what he’s going to die from. Miles is Second Gen, and Second Gen is a crapshoot.
Finally he sighs. “All right. I’ll see what Brooke can find out about your girl.”
I slap him on the shoulder, not bothering to correct him. Harper’s not my anything, and I’m not even sure why I’m so wrapped up in her problems. I barely know her, but I know enough to know she’s trouble.
thirteen
Eli
It’s surprisingly easy to train this recruit class, even knowing what I know.
They’re weak, but they aren’t lazy. I can beat weakness out of them, but I can’t cure lazy or stupid.
I’m secretly grateful for Lenny’s limp and Bear’s fat ass because it gives them just enough self-loathing to berate themselves until they can throw a perfect round kick. It’s a shame it isn’t going to help them much.
Bear could be incredibly strong and deadly, but there isn’t time to turn him into the machine he needs to be to survive. Lenny is the angriest, meanest cadet I’ve ever trained, but she’s a painfully slow runner.
Still, their physical deficiencies give them the edge of mental toughness. On the Fringe, that can go a long way.
Kindra tries harder than anyone, but she’s so breakable and weak that sending her out to the Fringe will feel almost like a mercy killing. Her white-blond hair and porcelain skin make me feel as though I’m looking right through her. I don’t even yell at her, because she doesn’t stand much of a chance.
Blaze always looks stoned, but he’s fast on his feet with reflexes to match. He’ll probably live if he doesn’t zone out in the middle of a raid.
And then there’s Harper. She’s still just as reckless and abrasive as the day I met her, but now instead of letting me get under her skin, she acts as though I’m not even there.
If I tell her to run laps, she runs. If I say do ten extra push-ups, she does. But she’s determined to ignore me after our confrontation in my compartment.
She’s getting good. Fast. In fact, she’s getting too good, too fast.
I want to yell at her and tell her to try less and fuck up more, because if Jayden gets wind of just how quickly Harper is progressing, there’s a good chance she’ll be sent out early. The year for training isn’t guaranteed — not if we need people on the ground. A year to train has always been a luxury we could afford, until recently.
I only got three months with Juan and Kara before they were sent out. We lost so many of that class that we doubled down after six months, “promoting” a handful of the ExCon recruits to Recon and giving them only the minimum amount of training.
It was the first double recruitment in nearly a decade, and it was a disaster. The ExCon kids were cocksure and aggressive, convinced they’d been promoted because they were somehow special, when in reality, the compound just needed more moving targets. That was the class I needed Miles to scare shitless to get them ready for the Fringe in three months.
Ten months into my first year as lieutenant, I’d lost twelve of the fourteen recruits I’d been given.
Jayden told me this class wouldn’t be like that, but I don’t believe her. I’m pushing them harder than my previous two classes, hoping it won’t mean they’re sent out early.
Three weeks in, they’re ready to spar with each other. Jayden likes them fighting from week one, but I haven’t done anything except static drills since the day I roughed them up a little. Seeing Harper hit the mat like that was awful.
When I tell them to pair up, Kindra latches on to Lenny, and Blaze faces off against Bear.
Harper’s eyes drift over to me, and I realize I’m going to have to spar with her. I’m nervous and excited. I’ve been laying off her since that first week to avoid any more confrontations, but I know she isn’t going to hold back all her pent-up anger.
I consider going without the pads, but she’s wearing an expression that tells me she wants me dead, so I grab a pair of shin guards, a mouth guard, and a padded vest just in case.
I join her in the ring and square off against her.
“Clean fighting,” I remind her, shoving in the mouth guard.
She cocks an eyebrow, and that little gesture makes my stomach do a weird flip. I’m both annoyed and a little turned on.
She swings at me, and I block her easily. She tries a nice little combo that I taught them last week — jab, cross, uppercut, hook — and her hips move at just the right angles. Textbook. Her punches have power, and I’m surprised how fast I need to move to get out of the way.
She smiles around the bulky piece of plastic between her teeth, so I come at her next. She blocks and even throws in her counterstrikes.
I’m actually impressed. Most cadets freeze up in their first real sparring session, but not Harper. Her body knows what to do.
After getting a feel for my rhythm, she becomes more confident. She’s soaking in my every movement, watching for a weakness, waiting for me to drop my glove.
I shouldn’t be surprised. In the Institute, she broke several kids’ noses and a few ribs with no
training whatsoever.
Suddenly I hear a thud, and I turn my head just as Harper’s fist flies out. She’s got a longer reach than I realize, and her fist collides with my jaw — hard.
I swear and step out of the way, still trying to figure out what happened in the next ring over. Bear is sprawled on his back, and my jaw is on fire. Harper doesn’t hit like a girl, that’s for sure.
She goes red in the face and spits out her mouth guard. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I wasn’t going for a cheap shot.”
“I know,” I mutter, grinning despite the fact that Bear is lying on the ground, possibly unconscious. There’s a strange, glowing feeling in my chest, and I’m trying really hard not to smile. I realize I’m proud of her. Harper kicks serious ass.
Slightly dazed, I run over to see what happened to Bear. He has a beefy arm draped over his puffy red face, and I know he’s trying to hide the tears.
Blaze is muttering a stream of apologies and practically bouncing off the walls, all arms and legs. With his copper and green-tinged hair sticking up all over the place, he looks like a mad scientist.
There’s blood trickling out from under Bear’s head, and I realize in a panic that Blaze backed him right off the mat. When he went down, Bear must have cracked his head open on the concrete.
I drag in a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Guys, stay on the mats. Please.” I hunker down and shovel Bear’s arm onto my shoulder. “Get his other side, will you?”
Blaze looks as though he wants to run away and throw himself onto a sharp spike somewhere, but he does what I tell him, and we pull Bear to his feet.
“What the hell is this?” cracks an angry voice from the door.
I glance over, feeling annoyed.
Jayden is standing in the entrance to the training center, drawn up to her full puny height and still managing to look terrifying. She would show up at the worst possible time.
“Had a bit of an accident,” I say, struggling under Bear’s mass. “It’s under control.”
“I’m talking about Cadet Crybaby, Lieutenant.” She crosses the mats and comes right up to Bear, who looks as though he would rather be anywhere else but here. “What the hell is the matter with you?” she snaps.
“He split his head open,” I say, not bothering to keep the contempt out of my voice. Jayden can be such a bitch sometimes.
“I don’t care,” she scoffs. She looks at Bear, her eyes narrowing into slits. “You’re a disgrace, you know that?” Jayden pokes her finger into his broad chest, and he’s unable to meet her cold gaze.
“Commander, unless you want another dead cadet on your hands, you’re going to have to let me take him to the medical ward.”
“Let him bleed to death. Better here than out on the Fringe.” She offers an icy smile. “Less paperwork that way.”
I try to hold in the angry growl that’s burning in my throat. Jayden is the only woman alive who gives me homicidal thoughts.
“Commander —”
“What kind of training program are you running here, Lieutenant? I didn’t realize this was fat camp. He’s a useless waste of space.”
“He’s doing fine,” I growl, completely aware that all five cadets are watching this exchange and wondering who’s going to win.
What they don’t know is that this is a lose-lose situation for everyone involved. If Jayden thinks they’re actually making progress, she’ll send them out early to look good to the board. If Jayden thinks they’re worthless, she’ll send them all out to die in a single month just so she can get a replacement class.
But in that moment, I realize that what they really need is someone to stand up for them.
“They’re all making progress — faster than the other squads,” I say, staring her down.
“Don’t kid yourself, Lieutenant.” She throws a withering glance at Bear. “Cut his rations down to fifteen hundred calories. Hopefully that will make him less of a fatass.”
“He’s doing six hours of physical a day.”
“Then the fat should come right off, won’t it?”
I sigh. “Can I take him to the medical ward before he passes out?”
“Yes. I suppose.” She’s looking at Bear again with the most intense loathing I’ve ever seen. “If I see you blubbering like a baby in my training center again, you’re done here.”
Bear sniffles and bobs his head. He looks pitiful. His face is burning and covered in snot, but the public humiliation isn’t the worst of it. No one can make you feel like shit quite like Jayden.
Then she whips her head around again, drinking in the look of the sweaty, exhausted cadets. “The rest of you . . . completely useless.”
Her eyes land on Harper, and I feel my insides tense automatically. “I should have let you go to ExCon, Riley. Sixty thousand for a forty-six?” Jayden tsks. “I was told you might actually be useful out there. Too bad.”
Harper’s face scrunches in confusion, and I’m torn between apprehension and relief. I can see Harper’s mind working, but her curiosity is the only thing preventing her from lashing out at Jayden.
As Jayden turns to leave, I have the overwhelming urge to dropkick her out the door. This is what she does: storm into the training center, make my cadets feel like garbage, and undo all the work I’ve done.
Blaze and I drag Bear out of the room, but my mind is back with Harper. I didn’t like that suspicious look on her face. It lit a fire in her eyes that reminded me of me. It’s the look I get right before I do something incredibly stupid.
The rest of the cadets are subdued when Blaze and I return to the training center. Harper’s running Lenny around the ring, and Kindra is determinedly jogging slow laps around the track.
They all stop what they’re doing when I come into the room, and for a moment, I see that look in their eyes — the look that tells me they know I’m on their side.
I can’t afford that.
It’s fine if they think Jayden is a complete bitch, but I can’t have them looking at me as though I’ve earned their loyalty by standing up to her. If they respect me — if they like me — it will be that much harder to break them, and it will break me when I have to watch them die one by one.
I made the mistake of liking Juan and Kara. I even volunteered to take them out on their first deployment. I won’t make that mistake again.
“Sparring is over,” I say. “Hit the showers and report to the shooting range after lunch.”
Harper holds out a hand to pull Lenny to her feet, and they shuffle toward the door.
On her way out, Harper stops. She’s searching my face with those big stormy eyes, as though she can see everything I’m hiding.
“How is he?” she asks.
“He’ll live.”
“What’s with Jayden?”
I swallow. “She doesn’t tolerate weakness.”
Harper frowns. “Bear isn’t weak anymore.”
“He can’t afford to be if he wants to live.”
She narrows her gaze. I realize we’re completely alone in the training center, which doesn’t help me keep my thoughts in check.
Her face is flushed from fighting, and her collarbone is glistening with sweat. I can see a few strands of damp hair that have twisted around her neck and stuck to the skin.
“Would she get rid of him?” she asks quietly.
“You mean send him out to die so she can get a replacement?” I meet her gaze. “Yeah. She would.”
Harper looks taken aback. “What did Jayden mean when she said ‘I was told you might be useful’?”
My stomach drops, but I shrug. “You know . . . the list. Every senior leader receives a list of cadets who fit —”
She shakes her head impatiently, her dark ponytail whipping around. “I mean, useful for what?”
“You know what’s out there, Riley.”
“No,” she says in a firm voice. “It’s the way she said it. She got this look on her face . . . almost like she was scared. What’s really going on out on the Fring
e?”
Harper’s words send a jolt of apprehension down my spine. I noticed Jayden’s expression, too, but I can’t think about what she’s hiding now. Harper shouldn’t either.
“You’re being paranoid.”
“No, I’m not.” Those gray eyes are blazing, and I know there’s nothing I can say to extinguish her curiosity now that she’s caught the scent. “You saw it, but you don’t know what’s got Jayden worried.”
I raise my eyebrows, glancing back at the doors to make sure we’re alone. “You need to drop it, Riley. I mean it. The only way you’re going to survive here is by keeping your head down.”
“Is that what you do?” she snaps. “Eli Parker, legendary fighter. Eli Parker, Recon’s youngest lieutenant. Is that what you call keeping your head down?”
I glare at her, and for a moment, she looks intimidated. “I give them what they want,” I say. “And you should, too. They’re gonna take it from you anyway.”
A strange expression flickers across Harper’s face. It isn’t anger or fear, so I almost don’t recognize it.
Her eyes soften, but before she can speak, I straighten up and pull myself together.
“Beat it, Riley. I expect you back here at thirteen hundred hours. Don’t be late.”
And just like that, the warmth is gone from her eyes. Harper is cold and cocky again. She shoves past me, practically bodychecking me as she leaves.
She’s not like the rest of them, I realize. She isn’t lost. She hasn’t resigned herself to the Fringe. If anything, training has awakened something inside her. She’s fighting back.
That sobers me and fills me with a strength I can’t explain. It spreads from my chest all the way to my limbs.
Harper gives me hope, and that scares the shit out of me.
fourteen
Harper
Up until Jayden’s visit, I was coping all right in Recon. I was learning, making friends, and trying hard to forget about the factors that landed me here.