The Fence

Chapter 35: Music

"So Grey is cocky then?" I ask, suppressing a giggle at the assumption. It's not like he doesn't have a right to be, even though I've never seen him fight.

"No," Donte whispers. "The opposite, actually."

I feel my face fall, a new feeling of nervousness engulfing me. I lean forward in my bed, frowning a bit, thinking back to Donte's unfinished thought. "You said something earlier," I murmur. "You told me not to pretend I don't care. You said Grey also pretended not to care, but then you stopped talking like something happened." Donte's caramel eyes meet with mine, sadness and knowledge swirling in them. It sends a pang down my spine. "What's wrong?"

Donte sighs, probably knowing there's no getting out of this question and settles back into his chair. "When I first arrived here from Caste 1, I wasn't the best person." He pauses and smiles remorsefully to himself. "No, that's not right. I was a downright ass.

"If I didn't like someone, I didn't bother to act like I did. In Caste 1, I had everything. My father owns the Caste 1 Pharmacy, my mother is a lawyer. I never had to worry about my next meal. I could practically snap my fingers and anything I wished for could appear. I was spoiled and entitled and haughty. But I knew I wanted to save people. I wanted to prove there was more to me than being a rich kid, so I came here. I wanted to be a soldier.

"Grey arrived 2 days after I did. He was put on my squad because the late Chancellor thought Carl, our mentor, could handle him. I was envious of Grey's skills. He arrived like a pre-made, unpackaged soldier. He had all this knowledge...of things I wanted to know about. He irked me, so I didn't hide my dislike for him. I just never knew how my actions could affect him. Not until..."

I cling on to every word, eager and scared to know more. "Until what?"

Donte shakes his head, his face looking like he's being jabbed in the side. "When Grey warned you about questioning Demi, he was doing so because he knows how bad things can get."

I nod, remembering the conversation Grey had had with us when he sat the whole squad down. "Yeah, he said he was basing it off of personal experience."

"It was barely a month after we arrived," Donte nods. "We were...fighting. I said some things I regret. Carl heard us and told us there was a yukos in the building. I was so ashamed of my behavior that I couldn't even apologize. I hurt Grey that day. I think he gave up on me.

"We didn't question the yukos. We tortured him. I was lucky. I didn't have to touch him. Grey didn't either, but he could hardly watch it. Bell was happy to oblige. She kicked him, beat him, broke him...she was a puppet listening to every order being barked at her through her earpiece.

"Afterwards, Grey..." Donte gives me a warning glance. I know not to say anything. "Grey helped him. He gave him water and fixed his..."

Donte is struggling with his words. I don't think he realizes that his eyes are closed, his brow is furrowed, his voice is shaking. I want to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"He put his jaw back into place after Bell kicked him so hard his tooth was knocked out, and tried to fix his finger that she broke in two. He cleaned off his blood as best he could, and the next morning he looked so much better. When we went in for round 4, I noticed that someone had helped him. I didn't know it was Grey until..."

"Until what, Donte?" I repeat, trying to urge him along. It's hard watching Donte like this.

"Carl shot him." Donte sniffs, lifting his glasses from his nose to wipe an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye.

"What?" I ask, unable to contain my surprise. "Carl killed him?"

"Holt thought Zaris was brainwashing recruits. They knew, like me, that someone snuck in to help him. They figured he convinced someone to get him out. Holt theorized that Zaris would return to the yukos with our training techniques, so he ordered Carl to shoot him.