Inamorato

by Keira Michelle Telford

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Maydevine tries to fathom her stubbornness. “I don’t understand. Was it a boy?”

  Ella screws up her face. “Is that what you think of me?”

  “You’re of that age.”

  “No boy could ever make me take the fall for him, Papa. This is a test, that’s all.”

  “Loyalty?”

  “Weakness.”

  “And rolling over in submission like you’ve done, that’s not weak?”

  “Naming the culprit is weak. If I betray my classmate, I’ve taken the easiest possible route out of trouble. If I take the punishment that’s dealt to me, and rise above it, all the while waiting for the right moment to seek my revenge, that takes guts and strength.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Ella nods, keeping the blankets tucked right up to her chin. “A weak person capitulates. A strong person bears it and survives.”

  Maydevine pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Academy politics never appealed to me.”

  “It happens all the time,” Ella assures him. “Besides, I can’t afford to be a tattle-tale. I don’t want to make any more enemies.”

  “People will become your enemies, Ella. Jealousy will cause them to strike out, and you must learn to care less about their friendship and more about earning their respect. If you acquiesce now, you’ll only make yourself an easier target in the future.”

  Ella had never thought of herself as a victim, nor as someone so easily molested by the ulterior motives of others.

  “Am I grounded?”

  “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” He reaches out and ruffles her hair. “Good night, Ellie Bean.”

  Seconds after he leaves, her cell phone begins to vibrate.

  A text message from L.K.:

  THE GAME IS ON.

  Ella welcomes the chance to drag herself out of this funk. Pulling back the covers, she steps out of bed, clad in a fresh Cadet uniform from head to toe, boots and all.

  Listening carefully, she makes sure she hears the click of her papa’s bedroom door, followed by the sound of running water. Satisfied that her escape will go unnoticed, she pulls a heavy backpack out from underneath her bed and slides open her bedroom window. She tosses the bag outside onto the ground and delves into the drawer of her bedside table, fumbling for something small: a Chimera talon.

  Hopping over the window ledge, she gently lowers the window back down, setting it to rest upon the talon, leaving just enough room so that she might slip her tiny fingers back underneath it when she returns.

  Two blocks away, a figure on a motorcycle is waiting for her.

  Her peer, Luka Kinsella.

  With green eyes, sandy-colored hair, and pleasingly symmetrical features, Luka is extremely popular among the Academy girls—and he likes it that way. He thrives on female attention.

  Built in his parent’s garage, the bike is a mishmash of Old World parts that have been put clumsily back together. Some parts are welded on, others are bound together by duct tape. He starts the engine when he sees Ella approach.

  Grinning at him, she hops onto the back of the bike and wraps her arms around his waist, her spirits perked already.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Skill

  The bridge to the Belt is located in the easternmost sector of the Second Reclamation Territory, which is the only sector, thus far, to be completely rebuilt. Three years ago, when the sector was opened up for civilian habitation, the bridge to the Belt was cordoned off. Not long after, some Academy Cadets had found a way to breach the fence.

  The Police Division knows about it, but doesn’t really care. After all, how much trouble could a bunch of kids possibly get into on such a tiny island? If they knew the truth, they might be a little surprised.

  Luka kills his bike’s engine and dismounts, leaning it up against what remains of an Old World bus stop in the Belt. Beside him, Ella kneels on the street corner, digging through the contents of her backpack. She rummages through packets of cigarettes and lighters, and clips for an HK USP handgun.

  Pushing aside a liter of New World white rum that’s cleverly disguised in a water bottle, she pulls out a crummy looking HK USP. Scratched and battered, the weapon has seen much better days. Assembled from the parts of broken and discarded weapons that she raids from the Omega scrap heap, it’s a true Frankenstein creation.

  Loaded and ready, she tucks the HK USP into the waistband of her combat pants and turns her attention back to Luka. “Are we good to go?”

  He pulls an HK MP7 sub-machine gun from the top box of his bike and wrinkles his brow at her tatty HK USP.

  “I am. I dunno about you.”

  “Don’t show off. Where did you get that?”

  “My father’s gun cabinet.”

  “He’d shit if he found out you took it.”

  “More than he would if he caught me here?”

  A roaring cheer distracts them both. There’s a flurry of applause, followed by whistles and war cries.

  Ella’s wide eyes are gleaming. “They’ve started already.”

  She snatches her backpack up off the ground and sprints off in the direction of the ruckus. Near the far north end of the Belt, the stage is set.

  Academy Cadets from both Divisions are crowded around and inside a large, square, brick building with a contained courtyard in the middle. The entire place is lit with battery-powered floodlights that have been surreptitiously ‘borrowed’ from one of the Hunter Division Academy’s storerooms, and the center of the courtyard is brighter than daylight.

  The chain-link fences from some Old World tennis courts have been transplanted here, and are fixed against the walls around the courtyard. This creates a central ring, and protects doorways and windows from what goes on inside.

  There are only two gates in and out of this ‘cage’. One gate allows people to come and go from the cage, and is guarded by a lanky male Cadet. The other gate opens and closes by being lifted from above, and behind this gate is the containment area.

  Inside here, a handful of Chimera, trapped inside prison-like cells, wait to fight.

  Wait to feed.

  Wait to die.

  As the corpse of the last loser is dragged out from the cage, the lanky gate-guarding Cadet calls out for the next challenger to step forward.

  A smattering of Hunter Division Cadet hands raise into the air—Ella’s among them. The spectators pull and shake on the tops of the fences, leaning out of windows on the second floor, cheering, eager to watch the next fight.

  Ella pushes her way through the crowds and up to the gate, hoping to get the attention of the gatekeeper.

  No such luck.

  Just as she reaches the gate, another girl pushes past her.

  “It’s time to give someone else a chance.” The stranger barely glances at her.

  She’s a fairly petite, uniformed Hunter Division Cadet, with long red hair and dark glasses. She cuts in front of Ella and the gatekeeper lets her into the cage without hesitation.

  Upon entering the cage, she calls to Ella over her shoulder. “You can have my leftovers.”

  Ella folds her arms in protest, sensing Luka now standing behind her.

  “Well, that was rude.”

  “Looks like someone after your own heart.” He nudges her shoulder with his, encouraging her to loosen up. “Let her have this one, whoever she is. There’s enough to go around.”

  He’s right.

  The last time Ella was in the containment area, there were ten Chimera. Minus the one from the fight they missed, and the one the redhead is about to take on, that leaves eight.

  That’s plenty.

  As the redhead waits, the other gate lifts up and a Chimera runs out snarling. It’s still wearing the metal Omega specimen collar that was welded onto it when the Hunter Division caught it and brought it into the city. Starved for days, it’s hungry and pissed off.

  The fig
ht begins, but instead of watching it, Ella is distracted. She catches sight of an immediately recognizable face skulking on the other side of the cage.

  Pryor.

  She draws Luka’s attention to her. “Have you seen her here before?”

  “Once or twice. She’s a transfer in from the Academy of Mechanics and Engineering, or something or other. Something technical. Definitely something to do with building shit. Or maybe blowing things up. I have no idea. She’s kind of a loner. Why?”

  “She fucked me over today.”

  “That was her?” Luka looks surprised. “That was a pretty gutsy move for the new girl to pull on a Cadet of your caliber.”

  “My papa said the exact same thing.”

  “And?”

  “He told me to make sure I put the bitch back in her place.”

  In the cage, things are intensifying between the red-haired Cadet and the Chimera.

  “She looks familiar.” Ella frowns. “Do I know her?”

  Luka shrugs. “Her father bought her a place in the Hunter Division Academy. She was privately tutored up until the start of this semester, so no-one really knows that much about her.”

  Around them, the crowd falls into a respectfully hushed silence, knowing that the slightest little sound could distract the challenger and cause an unwanted fatality.

  The Chimera leaps at the Cadet, but its pounce is skillfully evaded. Armed only with a steel pipe, the Cadet monitors the Chimera closely, waiting for it to commit to an action before outmaneuvering it with ease.

  To Ella, the fight looks too much like a dance. One partner takes a step while the other responds to it in perfect synchrony. In reality, the Cadet is allowing the Chimera to do all of the strenuous work—all the running and the leaping—while she conserves her energy. It rolls and tumbles when she knocks it out of the air, sending it falling and crashing against the ground, over and over again.

  As it begins to tire, it cares less about precision. Making one more leap toward its target, it rises up and over her. She drops down to the ground beneath it, her timing impeccable. Using the steel pipe as a spear, she runs it up through the Chimera’s chest cavity, letting the animal’s weight impale it as gravity pulls it back down to earth after its brief flight.

  Blood trickles down the pipe, and before her hands lose their grip on it completely, the Cadet uses the animal’s own momentum to swing the living kebab over her head and away from her. It spins through the air one more time, its feet finally turning back toward the ground, just before impact.

  The steel pipe strikes the ground first, and the Chimera is forced further down upon it, until the pipe finally breaks through its spine and skewers it completely. After a moment of awed silence, victory cheers erupt all around and the Cadet exits the cage with an earned sense of pride.

  Ella remains unimpressed.

  “You think that was a demonstration of skill?” She folds her arms again. “I could’ve done that with one hand tied behind my back.”

  “Really? How about blindfolded?”

  Ella laughs. “Is that a challenge?”

  “Not for me.”

  The Cadet takes off her dark glasses, revealing her eyes for the first time. They are unnervingly white, and the sight of it shocks Ella.

  “You’re …”

  “Rachel Jenkins.” The Cadet holds her hand out to Ella. “You must be Ella Cross.”

  They shake, Ella still at a loss for words.

  Finally, “You’re the Deputy General’s daughter.”

  “I’m a Cadet, just like you. I’m no more the Deputy’s daughter than you are the Hunter General’s prodigy they whisper about in the halls of the Academy.”

  “If only it were that simple to separate the girl from the world’s perception of her.”

  “A blind girl just fought a Chimera and won.” Rachel smiles. “Perceptions can be changed.”

  Behind them, another challenger has already entered the cage. A new Chimera is released as soon as the corpse of its dead buddy is dragged away and unceremoniously dropped into the ocean.

  The challenger is Pryor, and Ella fills with disdain at the sight of this arrogant newcomer now taking her place at center stage.

  “Amateur,” she grumbles.

  Pryor, choosing to enter the cage unarmed, begins to lay into the beast. A series of kicks to the head leaves the animal disoriented, but not subdued. Pryor backs it up against the cage fence, hoping to corner it. Unfortunately, the sudden realization that it has nowhere left to go sends the animal into a rage. It leaps at Pryor, knocking her down and twisting her ankle.

  Ella waits for her to get back up, but she stays down. Before it attacks again, the Chimera sits on its haunches and shakes its head, trying to regain equilibrium after receiving repeated knocks to its ears and the side of its face.

  Finally, forcing her bad ankle to bear weight, Pryor exploits the animal’s momentary confusion and makes herself vertical again. Afraid to wait for the animal to make its next move, she throws herself upon its back. Placing pressure against its shoulders, she hopes to force it down to the ground, but instead, the animal rears up and flips them both over.

  It lands on its back, flattening her beneath it. Barely conscious, and winded, Pryor winces as the animal rolls over onto its feet and pins her down, its talons digging into her skin. Its mouth wide open, about to take a bite out of her, the Chimera suddenly stops and sniffs the air. Something else has piqued its interest.

  Thunk.

  A small rock hits the animal across the side of its face.

  “Over here, moron.”

  Ella is inside the cage, her bandage ripped off. Her open wound oozes the scent of her blood into the air, drawing the Chimera toward her like a magnet. As the creature leaps into the air in her direction, she counters the attack with a flying roundhouse kick to its skull, sending the creature flailing at the cage fence.

  Before it has a chance to get up off the ground, Ella is kneeling on its back, forcing all of her weight down upon it. Knowing that her one hundred and forty-five pound frame won’t be enough to subdue it for long, she looks around for anything that she can use against it. Just then, her foot scrapes across something on the ground: a rusty coil of wire.

  She swipes it up and wraps the ends of it around each hand, her left hand screaming for her to stop as the wire buries itself deep into her open palm. The Chimera lifts its head to gasp for air and Ella quickly wraps the wire around its neck, pulling back on it with all her strength.

  If she were stronger, or more experienced, she could snap its neck. Instead, she must wait painful seconds for it to pass out, and with every second that passes, the wire embeds itself deeper into her hand. Repositioning herself on the animal’s back, she angles her foot against the back of its head and pushes it forward while she continues to apply pressure with the wire in the opposite direction. Leaning backwards, she places all of her weight into the action.

  Still rasping for air, the Chimera continues to fight for life, despite the wire now beginning to cut into its skin.

  Ella’s muscles are burning.

  At last, its flesh begins to tear and it starts to bleed. First, only minor blood vessels are severed, but soon, the wire reaches the esophagus and trachea, and the left and right carotid arteries. Once the arteries are punctured, blood spurts out from its neck.

  If it could, it would squeal in pain.

  One more second.

  Two.

  Five.

  Fifteen.

  With relief, Ella finally feels the animal give out beneath her. Eventually, its head drops. She releases the wire, unwraps it from her hands and carefully extracts it from the inside of her palm, leaving some small slivers of her flesh clinging to it.

  On the other side of the cage, Pryor leans up against the fence, catching her breath and nursing her injured ankle, and watches Ella in silence. Ella glares back at her, pleased with the turn of events and the shift of power in their newly formed relationship. With her pa
pa’s words echoing inside her mind, she exploits this opportunity to solidify her dominance.

  Fuck friendship.

  Earn their respect.

  “If you ever fuck with me again,” Ella warns her, “I will let you die.”

  She gets up from the corpse, amidst cheers from her peers. They rattle the fences and shout and yell, and Ella is satisfied. Pryor notices the HK USP tucked into the back of Ella’s pants as she walks away.

  “If you had a gun, why didn’t you use it?” she calls out after her.

  At the gate, Ella turns back. “Where’s the skill in that?”

  Point made.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  In a Name

  Bearing the pain as best she can, Ella tries to irrigate the wound on her palm. Running the cold water on full blast, she grasps her wrist with her good hand, forcing her injured hand to remain steady beneath the icy stream. Remnants of rust are flushed out from the deep gash, but Ella can’t tell where she ends and the debris begins.

  She needs stitches.

  The basin in her half bathroom is now covered in blood, and she doesn’t know how to stop the endless bleeding. Frightened to tell her papa—afraid that to do so might expose the illegal Belt fights—she wraps her hand up the best she can in a strip of a torn pillowcase and tiptoes into the kitchen, seeking the keys to her papa’s car.

  Aha!

  There, on the kitchen table: his keys, his cell phone, and his Hunter Division PDA.

  About to snatch up the keys, she stops. If the PDA is still switched on, she could have access to every phone number in his directory.

  Every Hunter in the city.

  At her disposal.

  She touches the screen and it jumps to life. Her heart pounding, she accesses the directory and scrolls through the alphabet, waiting for a name to leap out at her. She needs someone who might help get her to the hospital, and who would promise not to tell her papa. After all, if she takes his car, he would surely find out. If she got blood on the steering wheel, or if she didn’t park it quite right, he’d become suspicious.