Chipped Heartz & Broken Smilez

Choice (2)

Yolinda had left me a present. A military duel guide had been tucked under my pillow, and a business card for some bakery in grid C marked chapter two, which I opened to.

Duels are illegal on the military compound unless initiated for the following reasons.

• In a situation where Party B feels that Party A has abused its power and isn't being reprimanded by the proper authorities.

• Or A and B come from different grids, with B being the lesser, and B being persecuted for no reason other than his/her personal status in society would like a chance to prove their worth in battle.

In both cases, evidence of the abuse would be submitted to the tribunal, which will either approve or deny the request based on their judgement.

With this book, Yolinda had given me two options. First, I could either act mad and get sent to a mental hospital for an indefinite amount of time, or second, I could challenge Fred to a duel and hopefully win.

***

During my one hour of free time, I reunited with Yolinda in her office. The top few buttons of her blouse had been opened to reveal the slight rise of her breast and black bra. She bit the bottom of her pencil, thinking for a moment, before saying, "Did you get my present?"

After staying quiet for a moment, I nodded and asked, "Do you want me to kill him?"

"Not necessarily, but you are near the bottom of the social ladder; you don't have any ties to his relatives. You are the best person to put him in his place and stop him from repeating his past offences and hurting people like you. So, which do you prefer, being stuck in a mental hospital, challenging him to a duel, or quietly fulfilling your military contract? Whichever you pick, I promise to help you in any way I can."

***

The rain washed the snow away and turned the dirt into mud that gripped the bottom of our boots as we started our march. All my supplies had been tucked into a fifty-pound rucksack; its straps dug into my shoulders as I pushed forward, watching the rain catch on the jagged leaves overhead. The sky was grey; dark clouds rolled across its expanse. Cold rain washed my skin and plastered what little hair I had to my scalp.

We kept an eye on the white line that divided our land, using the trees as barriers as we made our way across.

To our left was Fred's platoon, missing one or two more people since the last shootout.

I put on my hood and pushed forward with the rest of my unit.

Two more platoons followed behind us. There were close to a hundred of us moving together. Our breaths expired as one. Our feet stomped the ground in perfect harmony; our loud voices taunted our enemy.

After marching for seven hours, we made camp at 18:00. It was too wet for campfires, and our leaders didn't want a smoke trail or light to encourage shelling, so we avoided our lamps and made do with what we had.

We scattered across the land, avoiding clumping in large groups in case we were attacked at night. We set up our tents and cleaned our guns as we passed the time, waiting for sleep or our call to watch. From our thermoses, we drank some lukewarm soup.

Feeling tired, I went into my tent and tucked myself into my sleeping bag, but sleep didn't come. Something shook the door of the tent I shared with a quiet girl named Henyce. I pulled the zipper down, and the cloth door flapped in the breeze till a pale hand caught it.

Ivan poked his head inside and smiled. "Mind if we talk for a second?"

I shrugged.

I wasn't going to sleep anyhow. There were too many thoughts swirling in my head. I removed my cocoon, dragged on my jacket and boots, then went out to meet him. As we made our way through the campsite, people watched us as we passed. The two weakest. The perfect set of targets.