I Am A Flyer

Jett has a Plan

This time around, Jett wasn't in the medic ward for long. The result of the fight was a cracked rib, a few cuts, and a few severe bruises to add to his already-large bruise collection. Raven had been there when Jett had come to in the morning; the flyer had simply ordered the medics to wrap the boy's ribs up in order to protect them, then had taken Jett to get some food.

After breakfast, it was back to the usual torture schedule.

And this time, it really was torture. Every little movement sent blinding pain shooting up his torso. Even a simple step, or an act as natural as breathing, brought agony. Yet Raven seemed to be uncaring, as he ruthlessly forced Jett to do the pole exercise. After which was another horrendous game of 'tag.'

However, despite the agonies of doing what Raven wanted him to do, Jett did it willingly. He didn't complain, and every time he hit the ground, he made himself get up again. The reason being, he had realized something.

He needed this training. If he was going to get away from this place, he needed to be faster. He needed the speed. So he threw himself into it, determined to get faster as quick as possible. His sudden change in attitude surprised Raven, but the flyer didn't show it outwardly. However, he was wondering what was going on that the boy suddenly seemed to want to do the exercises.

Raven didn't think too hard on it, deciding that maybe the boy had finally come to his senses, and realized that since there was no way he was getting out of Troit' grasp, he might as well join them.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

After stumbling back to the barracks, Jett found Iern and his friends to be mysteriously missing. It was perfectly fine with him, as he really didn't feel like getting into another fight.

Suil was there, and Jett noticed that his cast was off. In its place on his arm, was a type of a support. It looked like a padded fingerless glove that went right to his elbow. Jett went over, and sat beside him on Suil's bunk.

"Hey," Jett greeted.

"Jett," Suil gave a tired smile. "How are you doing? I heard about the. . .fight. Iern and the others were in the medic ward this morning, so - "

"They were?" Jett was surprised. He hadn't seen them there when he left. And he definitely didn't hurt them all that much. In fact, he was pretty certain the one who got the most beating was himself.

"Mm," Suil gave a nod. "I got my cast off this morning, and I saw them. Jett, they looked pretty bad. What did you do to them?"

"N-nothing, really," Jett was growing more and more confused. "All I know is that I passed out with them beating on me. Then I woke in the medic ward."

"Hum." That calculating, thoughtful gleam went on in Suil's dark gaze. It kind of disturbed Jett, so he spoke up.

"Suil, did. . .did you ask your flyer about the city?"

His friend gave a start, and frowned. "Yes, I did."

"What did he say?" There was an eagerness that shone in Jett's gaze, a bright hopefulness that was so innocent, it made Suil worried. Jett really didn't belong with Troit.

"There is a city about fifty miles from here. It's called Origon, and it has a population of eight hundred thousand. So it's pretty big, and - "

"Where is it?" Jett interrupted, leaning forward excitedly.

"Due south of here," Suil unwillingly answered. "But Jett, there's a large ravine that cuts right between here and Origon. Unless you can fly, you can't cross it. And I wouldn't try climbing down into it, either - there's a raging river down there, and it has a few waterfalls and rocky rapids. You'd probably die if you went down there."