by C. G. Hatton
I shuffled forward again and squinted, blinked cold drops from my eyelashes and tried to keep my head down, even when I was pushed and shoved into line by guards who were enjoying themselves way too much screaming at us. One of them walked behind us along the line, another at the front, stopping at each kid in turn like they were inspecting us. I tensed as they stopped at me, not expecting the slap to the back of the head and the sharp pain at the base of my skull as they secured a thin metal band tight around my neck.
Nothing like that had been mentioned in any of our briefings.
It took everything I had to keep calm and not react.
The guild had given us full IDs, based on our real names, “…so you don’t screw up,” the Chief had said, in a tone that suggested he was expecting us to whatever they did. The background they were giving me was fairly close to the truth so I assumed Hilyer’s was as well, whatever that was. We knew nothing about each other and that was the way they kept it because of where we were going.
It hadn’t felt like it was really happening until I walked out onto that landing strip.
They’d come really close to pulling us from the whole tab. It was NG that had spoken up for us. He’d looked at us both intently for a while and eventually said to Mendhel and the Chief, “You should have seen what I was doing when I was thirteen.” The way he’d said it, right in front of us, he was almost laying it down as a challenge. That’s the way NG works. He always knows exactly which buttons to push. You ever meet him, you’ll see what I mean. Everything’s different now but back then? It was a tab, there were points at stake. I didn’t even care about the points, I wanted the money to send back to Kheris. We had no idea what else was going on but that’s the way it was, we didn’t know any different.
We’d had our final week of training and one last briefing then we were sent to different processing units. I hadn’t seen Hilyer again until I was marched onto the transport, and as much as I knew we had to act like we didn’t know each other, it was still reassuring to see him there.
That didn’t last long.
There were eighteen other kids with us. There was only one younger than me. He’d sniffled all the way out, freaked when he walked off the ramp and was stupid enough to fight back when one of the guards hit him with a baton to get him in line. The kid hit the dirt, the guards descended on him, kicking, dragging him splashing across the ground and I was moving, shouting in protest, before I knew it.
It worked. They abandoned him and turned on me, yelling. Something hit my back, the back of my knees, the back of my head. The band round my neck sparked and sent a shock of agonising pain into my spine. I went down.
And as I sprawled face down in the mud, all I could think was that Mendhel would be disappointed. “Don’t stand out,” he’d said. “Don’t get involved, don’t get noticed. Do you understand?”
I’d nodded but yeah, that didn’t go to plan. What was I supposed to do? Stand by while they pummelled the crap out of a kid smaller than me? I couldn’t. Hilyer did. As they pulled me to my feet and dragged me off, I caught his eye. He was watching, cold, distant, calculating and way more smart than I’d been. The guild had tried to drum into us what the rules would be, what we had to expect and how we’d have to toe the line. Problem was, it seemed the rules had already been thrown out of the window.
They marched me inside a massive facility that was all huge grey walls, thick metal beams and sheer glass panels, and through into a dark corridor lined with heavy blast doors. They stopped me at one, took me into a tiny cell and made me stand with my hands up on the wall, feet spread. They yelled at me not to move and left me there in the cold darkness, the heavy door slamming shut behind me with a resounding echo as a power grid hummed, securing it in place.
I’d seen stress positions before. The soldiers on Kheris used to inflict that on anyone they suspected to be resistance when they dragged them out onto the streets after curfew. I’d never had it inflicted on me before. I very quickly learned why it was called a stress position.
That was my first time in solitary confinement. It wasn’t the last. Certainly not the worst. I did what they wanted, head pounding, for as long as I could, dripping rainwater off me into a puddle on the floor, before I dropped the stance and turned. We were kids. They couldn’t do that to us.
They could and they did.
The door opened and two guards walked in, slow and calm. There was something in their expression that made me tense and that made it worse. I was on the floor again in seconds and this time they knelt on me to keep me down and punched me in the back of the head with such force that I couldn’t stop myself crying out, eyes watering.
“It gets worse if you fight us,” one of them hissed into my ear. “You want to fight us, kid?”
He shoved me when I didn’t answer. My head hit the floor and I almost greyed out.
So much for not standing out.
They left me in there, standing, hands up against the wall for what seemed like forever. I couldn’t feel my hands, could hardly move my arms when they came for me and marched me out and into an accommodation block. Some of the kids I’d arrived with were there with the others, showered, clean and warm in fresh clothes, dark green tee shirts and black combat pants. It was like we were in the military already. Everyone had the same slender metallic bands around their neck. They all stared as I was trooped through, still in my soaking wet, bright orange prison gear, sympathy on some faces, smirks on others. Hilyer had a fresh cut under his eye and busted knuckles, and he was standing in amongst the other kids like they were already looking up to him. There was a girl standing close to him, her hand almost touching his at his side. I’d been standing alone, soaking wet in a dark room for hours, he’d been making friends and allies, and settling in like he owned the place. I felt like a complete fool. I couldn’t see the little kid anywhere.
The guards pushed me forward, warning the others to get on with whatever they were supposed to be doing.
I was taken through to a room lined with cubicles and pushed into one. They took the manacles off my wrists and told me to strip, shower, change and wait there. The clothes were rough like they didn’t want us to be too comfortable. They fit though, that was something. The shirt was a bit big. It had J/D-13-ANDERTON stamped on it in case I hadn’t realised it was for me. I guessed we were in D Block. Delta. For some reason, from all the briefing notes and intel on what to expect in here, it had got into my head that we’d be placed in Gamma. But no, it looked like we were Delta. I had to keep telling myself it wasn’t real. I was Thieves’ Guild and I was playing a totally different game. But I could go along with it. I could go along with anything if it meant I got cash to send back to Maisie.
It didn’t take long for a medic to turn up, check me over and give me a load of meds. Because my levels were off, she said. Damned levels. Her name badge said Brennan. She didn’t say much else but the way she looked at me almost made me break down in tears. She squeezed my shoulder as she left. Maybe I had an ally of my own after all.
One of the guards came in after that, read me the riot act, reeled off a list of rules and gave me a roll of kit. I had nothing personal with me. I’d left Charlie’s tags and the knife on the Alsatia, along with the wristband. I wasn’t wearing the brace on my knee anymore and I just had a simple pressure dressing on my hand courtesy of the less than sophisticated medical provision in the Imperial prison system. The guild medics had said I wasn’t ready. They’d been overruled. Mendhel said later they’d been right. It didn’t change anything. I had a tab to complete. And I had to survive my first night.
By the time I was released from orientation, the guards were shouting ten minutes to lights out and everyone piled into the bunkrooms. The girl who’d been standing with Hilyer hooked her arm through mine and led me towards a door.
“Hey,” she peered at my shirt, “Thirteen, we were wondering when you’d get here.” She had a sparkle in her eyes. “Wow, a Thirteen. We haven’t had one of those for a whi
le. The last Thirteen fell off the climbing wall in the gym and broke his neck. You have a lot to live up to.”
I wasn’t sure if she looked pleased to be helping the newbie or chuffed that she had a new chump in her clutches. From the feral grin on her face, it could have been either.
“Welcome to Delta Block. C’mon, you’re in here.” She squeezed my arm. “How old are you?”
I said, “Fourteen.” I was fairly sure that sometime within those last two weeks on the Alsatia, I’d had my fourteenth birthday. I hadn’t said anything to anyone and no one had said anything to me. We’d always used to scrounge a cake from the bakery whenever it was someone’s birthday. Maisie had always made sure we celebrated. If anyone didn’t know when their birthday was, we made up a date and gave it to them. Now I was fourteen and it had come and gone. A very small part of me thought that maybe Maisie had blown out a candle for me and made a wish. I was beyond wishing for anything.
The girl laughed. “You don’t look fourteen.” She steered me to a bunk at the far end of the room, squeezing past the other boys who were stripping down to shorts and throwing towels and wash kit around, watching her as she walked past. I guessed she wasn’t supposed to be in there.
“I’m Jem,” she breathed into my ear. “You came in with Zach Hilyer, didn’t you?”
“He was on my transport,” I muttered. “I don’t know him.”
She laughed again. “Shame.”
I couldn’t see him around anywhere. I half hoped he’d be in a different room but there were shouts from a door halfway down the room. Bangs. A clatter then a thud. There were shocked laughs, vicious jeering. The fight spilled out into the bunkroom. One kid tumbled onto the floor, blood pouring from his nose. Hilyer was stripped to the waist, muscles tense, holding another kid in a headlock and spinning to kick out at the third who went down like a ton of bricks. He pounded his fist into the face of the one he was holding and pushed him away.
He looked up, fighting stance, breathing steady, just as he’d been when he’d given me a kicking on the Alsatia. He looked around and said, calm and clear, “Anyone else?”
Whatever balance of power there had been, it had shifted and everyone else was smart enough to keep quiet. There were mutterings but more of confirmation than dissent.
“He put Raine in the infirmary,” Jem whispered with a grin.
I had no idea who Raine was, but I could guess.
“You see that tattoo on his arm?”
I hadn’t. I’d seen the one on his wrist. He’d always kept his upper arms covered on the Alsatia. It was black ink, like the other one.
She leaned close. “You know what that means?”
I shook my head.
“Means he’s done time in Wildlands.”
I’d never heard of it but she sounded impressed.
“Means he’s a dick,” I muttered.
Not smart.
Hilyer looked at me, was on me in three strides and had me against the wall, arm against my throat. Again.
“You have a problem?” he said, loud enough so everyone could hear.
“I don’t know,” I said, stupid but I was tired and I didn’t know what the hell he was doing. We were supposed to be watching out for each other. “Do I?”
He stared at me for a long moment, then shoved me aside and turned to Jem with a grin.
A guard appeared at the doorway, banging at the frame with her baton. “Is there a problem in here, Mister Hilyer?” she said.
The kids on the floor were crawling to their bunks, leaving spots of blood in their wake. She didn’t even give them a glance. She was looking right at him as if they’d put him in charge.
He turned round slowly, cocky, the grin morphing into a half smile. “No, ma’am.”
Dick.
There was no way it had been ten minutes but the lights went out and I had to get changed and make up my bunk in the dark. I couldn’t find the pillow they’d given me so I just curled up under the thin blanket and kept my eyes open.
I lay there, listening to the others breathing, tense at every slight noise. On Kheris, we’d all crashed out together like a pile of mice, always someone on watch, always knowing we were safe. On the Alsatia, they’d given me a private room in Medical and then a shared room with Hilyer, where we pretty much avoided each other. There on Redemption, it felt like I’d never sleep properly again.
Chapter 11
They slammed the lights on early next morning. I was already awake, not like I’d slept much. I was dressed, ready and sitting on the end of my bunk before half the others had crawled back out of the bathroom. Someone threw an empty wash bottle at my head. I ducked it easily. They all laughed as it clattered under the bunk. Hilyer kicked at my legs as he walked past and they laughed louder.
They shut up when a guard appeared at the door, banging his baton against the doorframe. “Yard, five minutes, children. It’s a beautiful day and you’re in for a long one.”
He left. I went straight out after him, straight out into the downpour. It was still dark, the yard illuminated by bright floodlights, driving sheets of rain cutting through the beams of light, pounding down and bouncing on the concrete. The guard was wearing cold weather gear, waterproofs, rain cape, gloves. He headed into the centre of the yard and turned, tapping the baton against his leg. I was wearing a short-sleeved tee shirt, combat pants and boots. I was soaked through in seconds. Shivering.
He laughed. “You’ll warm up soon enough.”
The rest of them came out, chased by another guard who was yelling at them, and it wasn’t long before the whole yard was filled with kids lined up in rows, four blocks of colour. Jem was next to me. She threw me a wink, mouthed, “You okay?” and grinned like she knew what they had in store for us.
I nodded, rain dripping off my nose.
She nudged my arm. “Brown is Bravo,” she said, just loud enough for me to hear, nodding across the yard. “They’re tough but they’re scared of us. They just won’t admit it. Grey is Alpha. They think they’re cool but they’re soft as shit.”
She stopped as an instructor walked past, waiting until he was chewing out some other kid before she pointed to the block in front of us. “Dark blue is Gamma. Watch out for them.”
That assessment pretty much matched up with the intel Markus had detailed.
She nudged me again. The guards were yelling about something. I caught the words, “Thirty five minutes,” and the ubiquitous, “Do you understand?” There was a collective yelled, “Yessir.” I just kind of mumbled it.
The gates rolled open. One of the guards shouted, “Go,” and the lines started to run off, each kid stopping briefly at the gate to pick up what looked like a rifle, then disappearing into the darkness beyond. They’d told us to expect lengthy runs – that was why they were so bothered about getting my knee fixed – no one had said anything about carrying rifles.
Someone pushed me in the back as a guard came up and rapped me on the back of the legs with his stick.
“Move,” he yelled in my face.
I moved.
The moorland outside the camp enclosure stretched in all directions. It was weird to see for real the topography I’d only seen in maps and simulations. The rain clouds were drifting across a full moon that gave out enough of a ghostly glow that I could just about make out the trail. Our Thunderclouds were up there somewhere, in orbit, our own personal weapons platforms in babysitting mode, guild ships close by, stealthed and invisible. I didn’t know if that made me feel better or worse.
The gravity was lower than I was used to so it should have been a breeze but even hiking over uneven ground was uncomfortable and my knee was still fairly weak so I couldn’t run that well. And I wasn’t out to impress anyone. The others were overtaking me easily. It was soft underfoot, tangled bracken catching at my ankles as I tried to catch up. A river that was threatening to burst its banks was running roughly parallel to the path, brown turbulent water rushing past in torrents. I could see the outline o
f some kind of boathouse, lights and the shape of armed guards, standing there watching us. No doubt the AI was too.
I glanced behind me a couple of times, hefting the rifle slung over my back to try to redistribute its weight, and slowed to a walk as the throbbing in my knee got worse. I couldn’t see any reason why I couldn’t turn round and head back. The leaders were way ahead, running across the low hills and threading a line way out into the horizon, dark figures that were getting smaller and smaller. I stopped and looked back at the camp.
Someone bumped me from behind and hissed, “Don’t stop.”
I shrugged them off. It wasn’t that I was being insubordinate, I just honestly didn’t think I could make it. I took two steps back towards camp and an agonising lance of pain seared into my spine from the band around my neck. Way worse than the first time. I fell to my knees, almost retching, a scream caught in my throat, falling forward and hands splashing in the mud, but it was gone just as fast, so sudden I almost felt like I’d imagined it. I caught my breath and pushed myself to my feet. My hands were shaking. I wiped them against my shirt and looked around like an idiot. Someone grabbed my arm, turning me around and pulling me forward.
“Don’t stop,” she shouted, over the rain, pulling me back into a stumbling run away from the camp. “Don’t stop and don’t go back. Don’t ever head back until you’ve reached the waypoint. They know exactly where we are, all the time.”