Flames of Dust and Ice

Chapter 2

I don't know how much time has passed when I open my eyes again. There are no windows to tell me whether it's day or night- just those achingly bright fluorescent lights. I look around, taking in my surroundings with better clarity than before. There must be about eight cots in here, though mine is the only one occupied now. There's a small counter tucked away on the wall to my right, covered in papers, gauze, and little silver instruments that I can't even begin to imagine what their uses are. Everything is white, sterile, and silent. The only thing with any color is the steel door with a tiny window that reveals a sliver of the hallway beyond.

Curiosity overtakes me and I shift into a sitting position. A dull pain permeates my skull, almost all-encompassing except for a strange lightness, a weightlessness that I can't explain. I reach to the back of my head and feel the thick bandages there covering tender skin. My fingers brush over the rest of my scalp and it dawns on me why my head feels lighter; the unimaginable has happened. Panic and anger flood my senses and I start shaking. How could they do this? How could they-

The door creaks open and a stout woman dressed in white enters, carrying a clipboard. She notices me almost immediately and her eyes widen.

"Oh! Hello. I'm-"

"What have they done to my hair?!" I scream.

Her voice is calm and practical. "I had to cut it off so I could put the stitches in. I would've just shaved the base of your head, but I had orders to cut it all off anyway- something about it carrying diseases? It was quite unnatural. How did it get so white anyway?"

I almost don't hear her. I can't stop touching my head, feeling the prickliness of the buzz cut, the remnants of the hair that used to go down to my waist.

"Don't act so distressed, it'll grow back."

"Easy for you to say."

"Just be grateful that Madame chose to keep you. I think we both know what would've happened otherwise." She gives me a pointed look. "Now, as I was saying when I first came in, my name is Ava McClaren. I'm the resident doctor around here, and I hope that I will not be seeing a lot of you."

I force my mind to stop whirring by focusing on the red hair coming loose from the bun at the nape of her neck. In the most measured voice I can muster up, I say, "How long was I out?"

"Only a couple days. I'm surprised you weren't out longer, given the severity of the concussion you had. Then again, the fact that you were able to walk in here in the first place tells me that you're tougher than you-"

"Dr. McClaren." I look over to the door to see a tall, stern-looking woman standing in the doorway.

"Oh, Commander Willis. Good to see you." Dr. McClaren's voice held a cheerful note.

"Is my charge ready yet?" Willis asks, not returning any warmth.

"I believe so. Let me just run some tests to be sure. If you could come back in an hour or so, that would be good."

"Why don't you start running the tests now, and I'll take her in the meantime? I'm sure she's fine. You can send me the results when you get them." Willis waves a hand towards me, beckoning me to follow her. When I don't get up, she gives a sigh of exasperation. "Well, come on; I don't have all day."

"What about my clothes?" I ask.

Willis rolls her eyes. "You have a gown on. There's a uniform waiting for you in the barracks. Surely you can survive being a walking fashion statement for a trip down the hall."

I look at Dr. McClaren, then back at Commander Willis. I start taking the covers off and swing my feet to touch the floor. When McClaren doesn't protest, I stand up and start walking towards the door. Pain momentarily floods my senses, making me woozy, but it quickly subsides as I continue to make my way to Willis.

"Perfect," Willis says once I'm standing beside her. "Let's go."

Without another word, Commander Willis begins moving at a swift pace down the hall. I do my best to keep up with her, often grabbing the wall for support as my brain knocks against the sides of my skull. We travel in a straight path for a long time, down the most basic and undefining of halls I'd ever seen; white walls, flickering lights, and a couple of doors sprinkled here and there, but that was it.

"As you have probably gathered, I'm Commander Virginia Willis," she says. "I along with three others are second in command only to Madame Durant. You will receive your orders from me, and you will reside in my wing of the compound, but you will otherwise be drilled and instructed by my subordinates."

"Who are the three others?"

"That's none of your business. I am in sole charge of your affairs. Although..." Willis mutters, "Madame Durant herself appointed your combat trainer. Apparently she thought it would be too difficult for someone who's been here twenty years to find a compatible option."

"Anyway," Willis says, steering herself back on topic. "Training begins at 6 a.m., breakfast and lunch do not have set times. Dinner starts at 7:00, and the cafeteria is just down the hall." She points in the general direction. "Don't worry about finding anything right now; just follow the girls in your barrack and you'll be fine."

Finally, we stop in front of a door. I breathe a sigh of relief as I notice that there's a long, jagged crack in the ceiling just above the doorframe. At least I can tell it apart from the 500 other doors we've passed.

"This will be where you sleep." Willis instructs as she pushes it open. "Remember to report to the courtyard for training at 6 sharp. Your bed will be the one with the uniform on the pillow."

As soon as I walk into the room, she slams the door shut, leaving me standing in a sea of empty bunkbeds.