by White, L. C
“Shit, shit, shit.”
I have never sweat so much trying to get dressed. I must have been sat on the floor for a good twenty minutes, yanking these awkward frigging pants up my legs. I bent and squirmed. Hissed and cursed. And at one point when the waist band got stuck around my thighs, I nearly called Kylie in to prize them up over my ass. How do these Sentinels breathe wearing this? It’s so damn tight.
I finish tying the long laces of the knee boots, sitting on the edge of the bed. They fit comfortably, as does the vest. If I could lose the pants, I’d be a little more optimistic about the day ahead.
“You okay in there?” Kylie calls through the door.
I quickly straighten up, blowing my long hair from my clammy face.
“Yeah, I’m coming now,” I snap at the door as I stand, pulling at the waistband of these stupid trousers.
Kylie greets me with a huge excitable grin as I fling open the door. Sentinels chat as they all make their way through a set of wide flappy doors right at the end. It reminds me of the school hall just before bell is about to sound for class. It’s noisy, warm, and manic.
“You look great,” Kylie chirps.
“Do I?” I utter, my eyes dancing around the many bodies passing by. “I don’t feel great.”
“Well, apart from your hair. As pretty as it is, you’re going to regret not braiding it.”
I squeeze further out so I can close the door. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see,” she annoyingly says once more, as I scurry along in the crowd beside her.
I catch the flappy door about to hit my face, as the noisy voices become even louder. My eyes move around the sound, to see hundreds of Sentinels. I stop moving, overcome by the energy of this vast warehouse like space, full of tables, surrounded by Sentinels eating from trays. Mesa High school cafeteria is so tiny in comparison with this. How can people on earth not know about this place? It’s like an entire army secretly protecting earth is down here. Some of these kids must be missed up there.
“Beth, breakfast,” Kylie says, tugging on my arm.
I suck in and hold a breath as I follow her to a long heated lit counter, full of stainless steel trays of bacon, scrambled eggs, and beans. For the more health conscious there’s a fruit bar, with cereals and juices. Kylie hands me a tray and moves down the line, scooping out eggs and bacon with greedy eyes. She must have broken in her tight leather trousers long ago. There is no way I can eat this stodgy food, unless I unbuckle myself, so I decide to grab a summer fruit cocktail and glass of water.
“Hey,” a male voice and breath drifts through my hair, and into my ear.
I turn to see a rough looking guy in his mid-twenties, way too close to me.
“Hi,” I smile weakly, taking a step away from him.
“You’re Beth aren’t you; the one who’s supposed to save us all? I saw Tristen with you yesterday.”
I peer over my shoulder briefly. “Yes, kind of.”
“Kind of?” he questions.
Kylie reaches the end of the line, her eyes stuck on the guy cross-examining me. I lift my tray off the counter, and side step behind her. What the hell am I supposed to say to these people? I’ve never felt so tense and uncomfortable. I’ve never had to start a new school before, and if this is what it feels like, I pity the poor kids who have to do it over and over.
“Liam,” Kylie says in a warning tone. “Leave her alone.”
“Jeez.” He lifts his tray high and squeezes through a cluster of Sentinels behind him. “Was only being friendly.” He disappears into the crowd.
“Yeah right,” Kylie sneers at the back of his head. “Just pay no attention, Beth. The news of your arrival, has caused some people here to revert to toddler attitude.” She turns and walks toward an empty table.
Where the hell is Tristen? I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to eat, make new friends here, or wear these damn tight trousers. He’s just dumped me here to fend for myself.
My eyes scour over the heads of many in search for him. I spot him sitting with David and Scott in a quiet area. It looks more spacious over there. More calm. Better than this noisy chaos. I lift my foot and take a step, only for Kylie’s hand to grab my wrist.
“You can’t go over there.” She looks up from the bench she’s sitting on.
“Why not?”
“That area is for the elite officers only.”
I roll my eyes at her. Screw that. I’m only here because Tristen insists it’s safe for me. I don’t feel safe right now, and I need to tell him how pissed-off I am he’s just left me here.
I go to move again, but again she stops me. “Beth, you really cannot go over there,” she pleads with me. “He brought you here early, and he’s going to get enough shit for it. You’re one of us now. You train with us. Eat with us. And fight with us.”
“Get the hell off me.” I shake off her grip and charge over to the area I’m not allowed to go.
I watch Tristen laughing with Scott, as I get closer to a red stripe painted across the floor. Just as I go to step over the boundary, a silence consumes the entire place. There are hundreds in here, and little me, has every single eye burning on the back of my head. I freeze and my hands begin to tremble. Shame has the blood in my head rushing down to my feet. Tristen’s brow creases and he shakes his head, indicating it would be a mistake for me to continue. Now I’m in no-man’s land. If I turn away, everyone is going to see my mortified face and quivering arms. And if I step over this red line, I’m going to cause some sort of Sentinel meltdown.
What kind of a damn rule is it anyway; separating the ranks. What makes Tristen so important here? He was normal at Mesa High. I fell into his bad boy arms, and I’ll admit that he has my heart. But down here he’s different. He could have warned me what I was letting myself in for.
“Beth.”
I slowly turn to see Kylie, who I never thought I’d be glad to see. Now she can join me in my shame bubble.
“Come on,” she says.
I walk behind her, back to our table with my view on the floor.
***
Kylie walked me to my room and left. Apparently this dome training will take place in one hours’ time. So now I’m sitting back in this weird room, twiddling my thumbs.
I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do this, and I don’t need Tristen’s damn protection anymore. I’ll stick with the sleep paralysis for the rest of my life if I have to. I’m no soldier, and clearly Tristen thinks I should be trained as one. He told me there is no free will here, and he’s now took away mine.
I spring up from the bed and thunder to the door. I have a half-baked plan in my head. I have to get to the elevator, and figure out how to use it.
As I go to step outside onto the corridor, Bennett appears before me. I’ve only been here a short time and I’m used to seeing black everywhere. Seeing him standing before me in his navy suit and tie, is strangely comforting.
“Are we going somewhere?” he asks, his brow bobbing.
“Home,” I state.
He releases a long outbreath. “It’s not possible now.”
“Why the hell not?”
“You coming here has created your very own personal time rift,” he says. “I told Tristen and you that, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m listening now. How do I get home?” I ask, desperately.
“When you have enlightened. Then it will be safe for you. Normality will resume.”
I hang my head and his hand reaches out to take my arm. He guides me back into my room and closes the door, as my eyes start to hopelessly water.
“I need to chart your progress, Beth,” he says, looking down at a notebook in his hands.
“A counselling session.” I smirk, sniffing up.
“Everything that happens, has to be documented.” He sighs out a heavy breath. “I understand that you’re finding this difficult, but so am I. I had a wife, a home, a respectable job before all this started. We are here, like it
or not. So, please just try to relax into it.”
“Relax into it,” I yell, as Kylie knocks and calls through the door. “Okay, you write down these exact words,” I order. “I would like to thank Saint frigging Michael, my lying piece of crap Dad, for planting his seed on earth, vanishing, and leaving me here to deal with this shit.” I move by him and open the door. “Write that down in your damn new bible!”
Chapter Thirteen: The Dome
Beth
My eyes journey up to the tall corrugated steel ceilings, beams, and florescent lights. I’m in a vast space beneath the earth, and it’s completely empty, apart from a huge dome shape stage in the center. It reminds me of an aircraft hangar, with no windows.
Kylie and I walk over to a row of around twenty Sentinels, standing at ease before the stage. I watch my boots plod down, shying away from the curious eyes turning to face me. Kylie tugs on my hand, with a pout displayed on her lips. I really don’t want to be here, and she can sense my apprehension.
“Don’t worry. This isn’t as bad as it looks,” she says, as my eyes remain on the loose laces tied around the tops of my boots.
We arrive at the edge of the row, and Kylie copies the exact same stance as the others. I haven’t got a clue what to do with my arms or my legs. I’m going to look a fool if I even try to study the line, so I can somehow fit in with this group of soldiers.
My chest swells against the tight vest. Sweat begins to trickle down my spine. And these godforsaken unforgiving tight trousers are making my nervous belly bubble. I feel and look ridiculous. I’m never going to fit into a place like this.
“Hey,” a voice calls from further down the line.
Kylie angles her head out first and I follow. It’s Liam, the guy who introduced himself at breakfast, when I nearly died of shame, all because I wanted to talk to Tristen. His wide eyes are aimed at me.
“Is it true?” he asks. “That you’re the reason this place exists?”
“Liam,” Kylie yaps. “You know you’re on probation. Another fuck-up and you’ll be out.”
“I’m only asking a question.” His eyes rise over Kylie and onto me, inquisitively. “You have some big boots to fill.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, blushing with heat as every Sentinel glares right at me, waiting for my response.
“Salvation,” Liam says. “Michael’s hand on earth.”
I gulp down and find my eyes back on my boots. I can’t respond to that when I don’t want to even think about myself that way. These Sentinels presume I’m tough, strong, a soldier like them. I’m nothing like that. I have no leadership skills. I’m definitely not brave. And I certainly can’t fill expectations of such an unrealistic nature.
“Can’t wait to see you in action,” he adds with a wink.
Kylie steps out of line and strides toward Liam. The neat row becomes chaotic as the Sentinels move and gossip about me. I’m the only one left standing still, not wanting to get involved in a riot.
“You.” Kylie prods on Liam’s chest. “Need to learn when to shut your damn mouth.”
The Perspex flappy doors at the back of the dark warehouse open, and my tense gaze is drawn to Tristen marching through, with Scott by his side. He’s trying very hard not to look at me, but I can see his eyes twitching awkwardly. He looks so strong and stern. The bad boy days of Tristen Blake have vanished. He’s a resilient soldier here, and the Sentinels fear him. Thing is, I’m not sure why. Some of these Sentinels are older than him. It’s as though he’s climbed the ranks in record time.
“Do we have a problem?” Tristen moves directly before Liam, his cross eyes glaring.
All the Sentinels hurry back into position and stand with their hands behind their back. I clumsily try to copy them.
“No sir,” Liam says.
As terrified of this as I am, hearing Tristen being called sir, still tickles me. My lips curl, and no matter how hard I try to stop it, a small huff of amusement leaves my mouth. Tristen’s head flicks sideways, his unyielding, unemotional eyes landing on mine. I press my lips together and straighten my face, thinking that will pacify him. But no, he’s now strolling down the line toward me.
“Sentinels, listen up,” he says in an angry tone.
For a second my eyes drop down, until this little tiny voice in my head tells me to glare right back at him. If he’s putting on a show for the Sentinels, by way of embarrassing me, I’m going to punch him in the face. He knows I don’t want to be here.
“You do not bow to this trainee,” he says, and as pissed-off as I am, I have to agree. I don’t want people bowing to me. “You only show her the same respect as any other trainee. Your respect belongs to me and the other officers.” Oh god, as he lists his commands, a desire grows around my pounding heart, loving the dominance in his gaze. “She is not strong, powerful, or a god. And neither are you. You have been chosen, and some chosen to die.”
He turns sharply, and moves toward the stage as I let go of a silent gasp. He dips his head at Scott. Scott pushes a lever up on the outside of the dome, and the inside illuminates with bright light.
I squint, examining the inside of the stage. It’s a large, bare, white space, with holes in octagonals, coating every visible surface. I have no idea what it is used for.
Tristen climbs up three steps and walks to the center of the stage. He holds his hands behind his back, standing tall.
“Most of you know what the dome is used for. For those who don’t, listen carefully,” he says, his voice echoing off the walls. “The dome is a simulator. You will be placed in the darkness with nothing but your weapon of choice. You will use your senses and the disturbance of air around you, to avoid, and destroy the Shade.”
Tristen waves his fingers at Scott. Scott approaches the edge of the stage with two forearm length combat blades, and a black fabric hood. Tristen takes the hood, pulls it over his head, and fastens a toggle tight around his neck.
“You ready to watch something completely awesome?” Kylie twitters in excitement, as the lights hanging from the beams dim. “It’s the damn sexiest thing you’ll see.”
I turn to her with a hard frown, hit by jealousy. I’m guessing no one knows that Tristen and I, have a complex relationship going on between us.
She nudges my arm, pointing at the dome. I watch as Tristen stands with his feet shoulder-length apart. His knees are bent, with the knives held tight in the palm of his hands, and the blades flush against the skin of his forearms.
Jeez, he does look kind of hot up there.
Scott slams his hand down on a large white button. A slight sound catches my ears and sends a tremor down my back. There’s a sudden cold air drifting out from the dome, and the lights begin to flicker like strobe-lights. I swallow hard, as I’m taken back to Fort Carson, in my bedroom, waiting for the Shade to come.
A black mass slowly trickles out of one of the holes, and I have to cover my mouth to stop myself yelling at Tristen. He’s so still and calm up there.
The black hazy whistling mass flies straight at him, and as if he knows exactly how it is going to behave, he kicks up his legs into a flare, and his whole body becomes inverted, leaping with windmill legs over the Shade. He lands with the precision of an Olympic gymnast, and takes center stage once more.
I am in complete awe. I never thought for one second, Tristen Blake would have such mind-blowing skills. Jeez, now my head is buzzing with nerves. I’ll never be able to do this. Does he not remember my epic rope climbing fail in gym class? Surely he’s not going to make me get up there.
The Shade zips up into a hole right above Tristen’s head, then in the blink of an eye, begins to spill out of another right behind him. I slowly slide my hand away from my mouth, watching Tristen’s body get ready for another attack.
Again, the Shade zips toward him. He sprints toward the black mass, and skids right beneath its tentacles. His hand shoots up, and like time has slowed, he mounts the mass and pins it to the floor, plunging his blade right into its bo
dy so the simulation ends. The cool air is replaced by warm, and the noise of the Shade vanishes.
Not even a breath can be heard as Tristen yanks the hood off his head. I’m gormlessly staring as Kylie nudges my arm. But I can’t talk to her. I can’t tear my eyes off Tristen.
“Okay, who’s next?” Tristen holds out the hood.
Shit, I’m not going up there. Now my eyes are doing everything to avoid him. He really wouldn’t make me do this would he? Oh god, perhaps he would. I’m seeing a whole different side to him in this god awful place.
“I’ll go.” Kylie steps forward.
Wow, I know I don’t know her. But from first impressions, she doesn’t seem the warrior type.
She climbs up and gladly snatches the hood from Tristen. I wait for her to grab herself a weapon of some sort, but she doesn’t. She slides the hood over her head, and stands there waiting. Is she nuts?
The lighting changes. The air runs cold again. And the silent anticipation rises.
The Shade emerges from the floor beneath Kylie’s boots. She does nothing other than remain still. As the mass begins to circle her, I step forward in concern, but Tristen’s eyes land on me with a warning look.
Kylie’s hands come out to the side, almost petting the Shade. She begins to chant muffled words through the hood, almost taming the Shade like a snake charmer. Her foreign words get loud and angrier, as her fingers flick out to grip the Shade tight. With both her hands clutching the creature, she yells something, and thrusts it down so it evaporates beneath her boots.
Liam starts to clap his hands and is ordered by Scott to stop. What I just saw Kylie do, was unbelievable. It was something you would see in a movie. She has to be a witch or something, because that was the strangest thing I have ever seen.
She swoops off the hood, and runs her hand over her hair to remove the stray strands from her face. Tristen takes the hood from her as she jogs gleefully down the steps.
My heart once more is booming in my neck. These people may have been human once, but they’ve evolved to fight this secret war. They are used to this, and they seem to enjoy it.