Untrained Eye

by Jody Klaire

  It was a swap. The kids from the gold group attended one of the skill sections like me, Frei, or the others. Our skill groups then went to study under Renee and Owens.

  As head of physical education, I was in charge of overseeing the touring students. A genius who could be a master thief on weekends was more valuable.

  I had no idea why my group was sent in the opposite direction. Maybe it was to clear the way so the geniuses got our full attention, maybe it was because a thug could also need to type up a report on why he’d knocked someone’s teeth out.

  Who knew? I’d long stopped trying to figure out the crazy system.

  I’d reminded my group to keep together. I didn’t want any of them getting hurt. Safety in numbers. Meanwhile, I had the honor of teaching the golden geeks.

  When two kids walked in, Kevin and Miranda, I know my shock showed on my face as Frei leaned in and whispered, “It’s only them.”

  “Where did the rest of them go?”

  Jones and Sawyer were loitering off in the corner but even they must have heard the shock in my voice.

  “Seventeen left,” Frei said. “Eight are yours, four are mine, two with Jones and one with Sawyer—”

  “That’s it? Two from Re—I mean—Worthington and Owens?” What were they doing over there? Renee had the same pass rate as creepy Jones.

  “Owens has a happy red pen.” Frei’s brow dipped. The glint in her eyes was enough to tell me how she felt about Professor Pain-in-the-butt.

  “You like her too, huh?”

  Frei’s eyes narrowed. “Like poison ivy.”

  “Owens needs to be pelted with pickles.” Frei raised her eyebrows but I shrugged. “There’s a pickle trend in my view of justice.”

  Miranda strode over and handed me her report card. “Miss Samson, I am with you for the week.”

  I nodded and looked down at the card. Apart from music she was barely making grades. Owens had been stingy with any praise. I glanced at Kevin as he scuttled past as if waiting for me to lynch him.

  Sawyer and Jones seemed delighted when he handed them his card.

  “They look like he’s lunch,” I whispered to Frei.

  She nodded. “He is.”

  I didn’t want to ask any more in front of Miranda so I waited for the three guys to leave.

  I walked over to the bike and tapped it. “Locks and I are going to run you through the fitness test. We’ll see where you are and then look to give you an achievable target for the fortnight.”

  Miranda bit her lip. “I’m not great with all . . . this . . . stuff.” She looked at the bike like it would bite her.

  From the weedy look of her, that was pretty obvious. “You remember what I said about resting and doing something else?”

  She glanced at Frei then nodded.

  “This is your rest. We’re going to build you up gently so that you got a better shot at keeping it up. The better your fitness, the suppler you will be and that’s important for playing, right?”

  It was strange how much I enjoyed training people. Maybe if I got fired from CIG, I could run my own personal gym or something. That thought brought a smile to my face. Better I didn’t open one near my hometown. Serenity folk had a tendency to draw others. My gym would be filled with people whose alma mater was Block A.

  “Miss Harrison told me that if I fail, I will lose my spot at gala night.” Miranda picked at her sleeves. That nervous panic reminded me of Nora back in Serenity and I felt a prickle of alarm crawl through me. Not a good person to have things in common with.

  “You think I want to fail you?”

  Miranda met my eyes. She searched them as if expecting me to issue a warning or get angry with her.

  I raised my eyebrows and she shook her head.

  “Good. Work hard, pay attention. Trust us to look after you. Jed is doing okay after working with me, right?”

  Miranda’s cheeks flushed.

  “There you go.” I grinned at her and patted the bike. “Now, let’s figure out how much of a weed you are.”

  IT WAS CLEAR Miranda had never seen gym equipment let alone used it. She was less fit than Jessie had been when we started and she’d had crippling asthma.

  No wonder Miranda was scared. If I’d given her the same pass mark to hit as I had the others, she would get nowhere near it.

  Frei had lifted her off the rowing machine when we’d finished and had to give her a banana and some water. The kid keeled over like she’d pass out three times.

  When we got back to the villa, I wasn’t sure how we were gonna pull off getting Miranda anywhere near fit in a fortnight. It grated on me all the way through dinner.

  I knew I was quiet. Frei knew I was stewing. It took until we had taken up residence for the evening, me on the sofa reading and Frei in her chair on her laptop, that it got the better of me.

  I’d read and re-read the same line about a million times. I looked up at Frei who raised her eyebrows, a half smile on her face. Her eyes were still locked on the screen but she’d been waiting for it.

  “Why would they set her up to fail?”

  Frei’s smile grew wider. “Gives them bargaining chips at the auction.”

  “Right.” I went back to my book. The same line still didn’t make any sense to me. I was currently learning how to ask directions in German. It was hard.

  Nehmen Sie die zweite straße rechts I repeated in my head. It meant take the second street on the right, I hoped.

  I ran over Frei’s explanation. As I read through how to get to a café and order beer. I didn’t even like beer and why would Caprock fail someone who was such a prize asset?

  “I don’t get it?”

  Frei’s smile curled the corners of her lips. Guess she had me figured. “If she passes, Caprock gets a pass bonus of twenty percent of her price.” She met my eyes. “If she fails, the owner has the choice to sell her to someone like Crespo or pay a bribe to Caprock to keep her on.”

  “Which is more?” I put the book to the side. I’d ask for beer later.

  “Half.”

  I whistled. That was some rise in fee.

  “It’s a risk. Jäger and Smyth are willing to bet on the owners.” She tapped away at her laptop.

  I was always fascinated how she could type without looking at the keys. The only time I’d tried to use a computer, before it broke, I had spent a good ten minutes looking for each letter with my tongue sticking out.

  One finger typing.

  Then it had crashed or broken down or whatever computers did and my father never let me near another one.

  “Caprock is in trouble?” That had to be the reason why Jäger was risking so much.

  “No, they just like to gamble.” She sighed. “Smyth has come close to bankrupting them a few times. Unless they really messed it up, no one would take on Jäger.”

  “Why?”

  “He has done things that even they’re scared of.” She glanced up at me. “He’s on most wanted lists in Europe for a start.”

  “So how is he here?”

  Her brow flinched. I knew talking about him was hard. “He used to be a trawler. A person who follows disasters and goes into war zones looking to sell kids.” Her eyes hardened. “He was part of a reputable rescue organization before he went into hiding.”

  “How’d he get into the States then?”

  Frei smiled a sad smile. “My bet would be bribes and blackmail.” She shrugged. “The authorities watching him can’t prove what he is. Who will testify against him?”

  I had a feeling any witness against Jäger would disappear before they took the stand. Who would believe all those kids anyway? They were criminals. Most of them didn’t know who they were or where they were from.

  “So how would Caprock go bankrupt?” And more importantly, how could we help it to.

  “Two ways, one if the buyers see the kids pass and they are not there after the sale.” She tapped away on her laptop. “Or if the merchandise is harmed before the auction.”


  “And you think other folks out there want to bring them down?” I sat forward.

  “There’s always someone but normally it’s abduction.” Her eyes narrowed. “If one of the other kids hurts Miranda or Kevin, their owner pays the full price.”

  The flash resurfaced in my mind again. Rolex watch, of the abduction. “They could be hunting for Miranda and Kevin.”

  Frei shut her laptop and watched me for a moment. “You’re a lot like your mother.”

  “White gold Rolex. They were both out of it.” I tried to focus on the wavy, faded glimpse, ignoring the comment about my mother. I needed to write down the stuff I saw.

  Frei rubbed her hand over her mouth, her silver ring caught the light. “It isn’t surprising. High value means the others want them. If they can’t afford them or don’t want to pay . . . they want to get one over on the others.”

  “By making sure no one else has them.”

  “Spite is rife in their circles.” Frei stared at the ring, her thoughts danced across her eyes. “It’s nothing but a game.”

  “Sign me up for a loyalty card. These guys are awesome.” I thumped the cushion next to me for good measure. “How do we help her pass?”

  Her eyes softened. “We can’t.”

  “There’s no way, no loophole?” I stared down at my hands. For so long I was scared of touching people, of getting close, of seeing more than I wanted to. Now, it felt strange to look at the same big shovels and remember what they’d fixed, how they’d helped. Even though I knew it was, part of me questioned whether it was real, if I had done any of those things.

  Was I still in Serenity and it was all a weird dream? Some dreaming if it was.

  My hands seemed like foreign objects. Dulled, dampened, dormant but the memories, how they’d felt, the warmth, the tingling and burning, it was so vivid.

  “You can’t fix everything.” Her voice was soft and she smiled at me when I looked up. “You don’t have to fix everything.” She got up, dropped to her haunches in front of me, and took my hands.

  “She could fail and end up being sold.” Warmth radiated from Frei’s hands and her smile as she held on tight. “Her wrist is beyond repair and she can’t play without getting panic attacks. Miranda . . . well . . . she’s got issues.”

  There it was, what I’d seen when I held her bow. I stared down at my palms. I’d read it off the bow. I hadn’t been able to do that. I didn’t realize I had done it.

  “Injury?” Frei sounded worried, whether it was Miranda or the fact I had read off the bow, I didn’t know.

  “She’s got enough tendonitis to make anyone cry.” I shook my head. “No, she fell when she was drunk with Jed. Pretty sure something needed putting back into place and is now messed up.”

  “That can be fixed.” Frei nodded at me. “We just have to—”

  “Miranda can’t hold the bow steady with the pain let alone play for fifteen minutes. The kid has been trying to squeak and squeal her way through it.” I rubbed at my wrist, feeling pain just from the thought. “Mine aches and there ain’t nothing wrong with it.”

  Frei closed her eyes for a moment. I weren’t sure if she’d fallen asleep on me or something. “That’s an interesting complication.”

  “She’s useless?” Jäger, younger, angrier.

  “Yes. The fall damaged the joint. She’ll be mediocre at best.” A doctor, white coat and severe face.

  “So we fail her. They buy her anyway. No one needs to know.” Jäger paced around the doctor. The keyhole shape around the room. Heavy breathing, pounding heart.

  “She won’t pull it off. She can barely hold the bow.” The doctor shook his head. “I advised you not to put her through the tour.”

  Jäger leaned onto the arms of the chair. The doctor arched backward in panic. “I didn’t come here to lose money.”

  “You came here to hide. You’re lucky Smyth took pity on you.” The doctor pulled his chin down, his eyes hard. His sharp nose dribbled sweat.

  “Give her whatever she needs to get her through that performance.”

  The doctor shook his head. “There is nothing. She’s good for nothing but the scrap heap.”

  Jäger grabbed for the letter opener on his desk. He held it to the doctor’s throat. “Do it.”

  The doctor’s Adam’s apple jumped. “There’s nothing that will work—”

  Slice.

  “I saw it.” I squeezed Frei’s hand as she snapped her eyes open. “Jäger . . . who was he talking about?”

  She stared at my hand in hers. “My sister.”

  “Show me. Show me what happened.”

  Frei tried to pull her hand away.

  “Show me.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes.

  The dorm was quiet. The students asleep. Heart pounded. She sniffled. She whimpered. They’d sell her for prostitution. The men who came in, the doctors they brought. They wanted her for her body.

  Not her. Never her.

  “Hurry . . .” Along the silent corridors painted blue with moonlight, down the stairs, through the door.

  “Where are we going?”

  She didn’t know. She couldn’t know what they had in store for her. “Trust me.”

  She nodded. She never doubted.

  Her shoes clipped along the stone floor, the tiles, the wood. Quietly, quickly, the dust filled the air, the groan of the main door.

  “We aren’t allowed out.” She never stopped. She’d follow anywhere. She trusted in the bond.

  “No.”

  Guards in huts, some patrolled, easy to slip around. Easy to slip away to the fence. She’d be waiting, ready to help. She’d take her away, safe, hidden.

  “Suz?” She knew her the moment she saw the limp. “What are you doing here?”

  “We need to get you out. You’re going to stay with me.” Suz held out her hand. Burn marks covered it, shining in the moonlight. “You’ll be safe with me.”

  “What about—?”

  “I have to stay.”

  She tried to pull away. She could never understand. Something triggered. Red lights pulsed from the guard hut close by.

  No.

  “You have to go.” A brief hug. “Go.”

  Suz didn’t give her time to think. She picked her up and threw her into the back of the car. They screeched off in a dust cloud.

  Go. Go!

  “Don’t move!”

  Guards. Needed to cover tracks. Roll, turn, sprint.

  “We’ve got a runner!”

  More lights. Lights in the building. Guard boots, footfalls.

  Run. Run.

  Keep them distracted. Keep them away from Suz. She needed time to get away.

  “It’s one of Huber’s,” one of the guards shouted. “I can see his tag.”

  Through the doors, run, up, up the stairs. Run. Run.

  Smack.

  “Nice try.” Jäger. So tall, so terrifying. His face etched in shadow and moonlight.

  “Musician is gone!” Harrison. She would check, such a hawk.

  Jäger narrowed his eyes. “You think you can hide her?” His grasp painful, agony. His gaze flicked to the guard. “Find her.”

  “She’s gone. There’s tracks next to the fence.” The guard panted, his face dripping with sweat. “We’ll never catch them now.”

  She got away. Thank God, she got away.

  “You lost me money, slave.”

  Smack.

  “A lot of money.”

  Smack.

  Cover up. Take it. Buy her time.

  I flinched at the blows and snapped open my eyes. She had gotten her sister out. She’d taken the punishment. She would have been the age the groups were now. Her sister was younger.

  “Why would they do that when she wasn’t sixteen?” I asked, trying to steady my voice.

  “Her looks.” She blinked a few times as if shaking away the memory. “During that year she developed into a woman, at least in body. Her skills were second to that. Jäger wanted t
o milk both and get more for her.”

  “Instead you became a hero and he got nothin’.” I didn’t know where to start. How could I tell her just how much respect I had for her? At her age I was stealing cars, copper, and covering for Sam. A freak of a kid, yeah, but I was lucky compared to her.

  There she was, the same age and I could feel how much more mature she was, how much more aware of everyone else. All I could think was, what a woman.

  “I mean it,” I whispered to her. I wanted her to see the intensity of it. “You’re a hero. If anyone can get them out, it’s you.”

  Frei sighed, leaned forward, and rested her head on my upturned palms. “They should bottle you and sell you.”

  “Big bottle.”

  Frei chuckled so hard that I swear she snorted. “Let me check something.” She went back to her laptop and her fingers tapped away at lightning speed.

  My hands still reverberated from her need for comfort. I wished I could comfort her. I wished I could show her how cool, how courageous, how good she truly was.

  “You set the bar,” she mumbled, then met my eyes. “You are the one who sets the levels. Slaves can’t do it . . . but you, Renee, Owens, you can.”

  “Great, so we tell Renee to do the same.” I wanted my guys to stay safe. I knew if Renee failed any one of them, I’d pile as many of them as I could in Frei’s car and hope I could figure out how to drive.

  “I don’t think she’s in a good place to listen right now.” Frei rubbed the bridge of her nose.

  “Why?”

  She sighed. “I lost my temper.”

  Although I’d seen Frei display more emotion here than before, she didn’t seem like someone who lost their cool often. Which meant that when she did, a lot of pent up anger burst through. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. She was out of line. I wasn’t focused. She caught me off guard.”

  Well done, Renee, again. She was gunning for friend of the year. “Am I getting any more or a mind your own peanuts?”

  Frei blinked a few times. “Peanuts?”

  I shrugged. “Nan. Don’t ask.”

  She shook her head with a wry smile. “Renee baited me. I pinned her to the stonework. I doubt she will want to talk to me for some time.”