To Be A Warrior

Chapter 26: Damaged Goods

I nod. I'm not the only runner with jobs outside of running. I'm sure Tom's been busy creating plans on how to push out our fences and keep the workers safe while they do so. We should be starting on that soon, along with construction on new dorms and another shower area.

I bite back a smile. When I first came to Abel we didn't even have dorms, and when we built them, we all slept on mats on the floor until we could build bunk beds.

"You've got that look on your face," Peter says flatly. "You're reminiscing."

"Yeah, but it's not about bad things so..." I shrug. "I just remember when I first arrived in Abel, how few people were here, how I slept in a tent."

"Ah, yes, I remember. Everyone was shocked to see little baby Five run through the gates."

"I was fifteen."

"Exactly. I mean, we thought Mullins was professional, but they sent us a child."

I scoff. "I still could have snapped your neck if I wanted."

"You couldn't even reach my neck," He replies, and I know the words 'still can't' rest on the tip of his tongue. "And it's not like we knew you were dangerous. There was a lot we didn't know about you."

"A lot I didn't know about myself either. But after I came along, things did get a lot more interesting."

"In a way, but we all had our own ways of creating chaos." He grins, and I almost want to ask him what he's remembering, but I understand that that may lead down a rabbit hole, so it'd be best to keep myself the center of attention for the moment.

"It's kind of weird, though, remembering when I couldn't speak."

"You couldn't speak?" Tom asks, and I stare at him for a long moment before my eyes go wide.

"Holy shit, we've never really told you about that, have we?" I ask, and he shakes his head. No one really talks about it, about me and my voice and everything in between. It's been years since I got the treatments and spoke and those here in Abel know and those that don't have never really asked. Tom's been my friend for what feels like forever, even though it all actuality it's not even been two years.

"I had always wondered why everyone here just knew BSL," He says.

"I taught them. When I was thirteen, before came to England I was... hurt, badly. My throat-the damage was extensive, and I don't like to think about it, but I was never supposed to speak again. Didn't for about three years, until Kefilwe pulled some strings, helped me with a treatment for my voice. It took months, but I was slowly able to start speaking again, and now here we are." I shrug halfheartedly. "Seems like it's been forever since that happened. I forget that you weren't here."

"That just means he didn't have to see all of the stupid stuff we did," Peter says, looking at Tom. "I don't think you would have approved."

"There are some things I've seen you do that I don't approve of now," He replies. "But just because I don't approve of it doesn't mean I wouldn't find it funny, like the time you tried to throw Callista into the goat pen."

"That was not funny!" I snap, but my outburst only makes his lips quirk up into a smile. "One of the things that suck about you not having been in Abel at the time is that you weren't there when I became terrified of goats."

"I technically wasn't there either," Peter says. "That was when I was still living in Deadlock territory. I just come back and suddenly you hate the things."

I nod, feeling stupid for forgetting that as well. It's hard to remember who was where when everything happens so quickly. "Right. Um, after Nadia tried killing me, she was held and basically couldn't do much for a year afterward, so I had to go to New Canton to get permission for her to go with me on a mission-the one we ended up meeting Veronica on.