Birthright

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"You're a coward," Orkoy said. This time, neither of the other two boys reprimanded him.

They had no right to judge him. Forcing himself to sit up, he faced Orkoy. "Why am I a coward, Orkoy? Why don't you tell me, since you seem to know so much about me? You don't know anything. If I don't seem overjoyed to be one of you people, that's because there's nothing good about it!"

Carter's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. "You people? You speak like you're not a Sanser, Kray. Maybe growin' up in Saranth has filled your head with crazy ideas." He shook his head sadly. "Seems like I was wrong about you. You can choose to deal with this however you want. I'm not going to listen to you insult us."

Immediately, he turned to the others and they began to speak in their foreign language. One of the two other boys who didn't speak English joined in and, judging by the occasional glance they cast his way, he knew they were talking about him.

Kray pressed the button that would shield him from them. Then he lay back on his bed and wrapped his arms around himself, rocking his body in an attempt warm up his body and comfort himself.

He had never felt so alone before and so out of place in the world. So what if Carter and the others hated him because of his childish tantrum? It didn't matter. He deserved their hatred because he already hated himself for what he was. As despicable as his feelings were, nothing could change them.

He had spent years on the fringe of society. Tolerated because he had been living among his own kind, or so he used to think. He didn't know who he was anymore, and it didn't seem like he belonged anywhere. Alone without family, isolated from his only friend, and at the mercy of people who would use him for their own objectives.

When the guard returned for him hours later, Kray trudged after the man as they headed toward the lab, his head hanging down to avoid the gazes of his block-mates. And when Doctor Greene gestured toward the chair once they entered the lab, he tensed his body and waited for the torture to begin.

"It doesn't have to be like this," Doctor Greene said gently, as the inhibitors began to flow through him. "Stop resisting, Kray. You're only hurting yourself."

I hate you the most. Your kindness only makes the cruelty worse.

Kray wished he had the strength to say those words.

It wasn't until ten in the morning before he recovered from the inhibitors. Despite the excruciating cold that gripped him, he experienced no urge to vomit. But he doubted he would have been able to vomit even if another onslaught of nausea gripped him. He was dizzy with hunger. How much longer could he possibly go without food or water? His stomach squeezed painfully at the thought of spending hours, days, without something to fill it.

What was the point of being so stubborn? Carter was right. The Heads would still get what they wanted. His pride was hurting only him.

Kray rose from his bed, grabbed the washcloth and began to wipe the floor, soaking up the pool of liquid that remained in the upright bucket to do the job properly. It took almost five minutes to clean the mess and by the end of it, he felt like he could no longer hold his head up. A headache threatened to split his head but he had continued to work through it. When he was done, he returned both items to the compartment and sat on the edge of his bed, wringing his hands as he waited for food to appear.

Five agonizing minutes later, he opened the compartment. There was nothing in it, not even the bucket. Stricken with disappointment, he cried out, "I'm sorry! I'll do what you want. Please give me another chance!"

He waited almost a minute before opening the compartment again. Nothing. They really were going to starve him for his disobedience. His knees gave out and he sank to the icy, wet floor. The uncomfortable cold seeping through the thin cloth of his pants was nothing compared to the aches all over his body, especially the gnawing pain in his belly.