The reason for getting me out of the prison almost knocks the wind from my lungs.
I continue to stare at Sigma long after she has finished talking, letting her words sink into my head even though I wish them not to be there in the first place. She raises her eyebrows at me and doesn't say anything—just waits for my reply, but my mouth seems to have stopped working.
To cut to the chase, the plan for me is to pretend to be a Soldier in the prison to get the remaining Freaks out and back into the Ghetto, where they will be safe. I am the only one that's able to pull it off, Sigma said to me, because of the abilities I have. She told me to take the powers from the Freaks around the Ghetto, whichever ones I need. The Freaks will teach me how to use them.
We have four weeks until I finally leave, Sigma says. Four weeks because she thinks that the Freaks left in the prison could turn eighteen any day now. But just before my execution, I heard a Soldier say that the next Freak will turn eighteen in a few months. We have plenty of time to get ready.
But four weeks it is.
And Sigma says we need to start training today.
Instead of shouting out the millions of questions I have at Sigma, I sit up a little bit straighter and look her right in the eyes. It's the apprehension deep within my stomach that spurs on my next words. "I don't think I'm capable of doing this," I say. "I strongly believe someone else is better suited for this situation."
"Trust me, Luca, they're not," she replies, shaking her head slowly. "You're the only Freak that is able to possess more than one ability, so of course you are capable." She sits up so she can look at me fully. "Why don't you think you can do this?"
I open my mouth to reply, but a strong feeling of trepidation keeps my lips firmly pressed into a thin line. Many different things could happen during this task. I can count multiple different ways I could be killed by Soldiers. And the worse thing is, I'm over the age limit for captivity.
If they catch me, they will kill me.
The feeling of anxiety is strong, so much so that I feel it weighing heavier and heavier against my chest the longer the silence stretches on between Sigma and me. Many different scenarios enter my head, but I push them down as far as they will go as I look back up at Sigma, a final decision already in mind.
"I'm in," I say before I can second-guess myself.
"Good, that's great." Sigma sits up a little straighter too, pressing her hands against the desk as she pulls her chair closer. "Don't worry, you won't be doing this alone. There will be a few other Freaks that will be training you, building more muscle and, of course, helping you with your abilities. They will teach you a few basic facts about the Soldiers, and everything else you could possibly need while being up above."
I nod once, trying not to show the fear on my face. Even though I said yes about doing this task, there's still the lingering anxiety at the back of my mind, pushing forward to the forefront of everything in my head. I wish I said no, or at the very least, said that I would think about it. But then I remember that if I don't do anything at all, the Soldiers will continue to kill us until we are all dead.
I can't let that happen. Never again.
So effective immediately, I will be learning more about the Soldiers and training to impersonate one—the Soldiers who took over our world and claimed it as their own. The same people who are killing Freaks simply because they fear us.
I nod my head and don't say anything else, suddenly wanting to be out of this cool room and back into the heat of the Ghetto. "Thank you, Sigma," I say quietly, almost hovering above the seat.
"Do you have any questions for me?" she asks.
For a moment, I am silent. I'm tempted to say that I don't have any questions and just leave, but I've had one swimming around my head since arriving at the Ghetto. It's not a question that's important, but I still say it anyway.
"That symbol etched into every door around here?" is what I ask. "What does it mean?"
Sigma laughs for a quick moment like I actually asked something funny. I stare at her for a moment, wondering what is wrong with her as she calms down and wipes something free from her eyes. "That is my name," she says.
"Excuse me?"
"It's my name," she repeats, her brown eyes still bright with laughter. "It's the eighteenth letter in the Greek alphabet. It's the letter S. Sigma."
I nod my head slowly, the realization slowly dawning on me. It's her name. The ∑ is put onto every door, including on her own office, because she's the leader of the Ghetto. It makes sense.
I suddenly feel myself wanting to leave again.
Sigma must see my need to go because she smiles again and says, "It was lovely meeting you, Luca. You may leave now."
And I do.
I don't look back even though I think I should, as a sign of respect because she is our leader, but the thought immediately comes to mind as soon as the door closes behind me.
* * *
I meet Serena in the main hall after finding it again on my own, watching as she rises from one of the circular tables scattered around the room. She meets me halfway, grabbing hold of my hand to pull me into the room some more.
"Did she talk to you about it, then?" she asks as we sit down, a few other Freaks around the table too, but I have no idea who they are.
I give Serena a strange look, blocking the few stares from the Freaks around me. "You already knew what she wanted from me?" I ask, almost snapping the words at her. "Why didn't you tell me when I first arrived here?"
Serena's face doesn't change from a small smile. "Sigma wanted to tell you herself. She told us not to tell you."
I guess that makes sense, considering she's the leader here. How long has Serena known about the plan for me? Did she know before her and Nox saved me from that prison?
Before I can ask the questions aloud to her, she takes my hand and leads me towards a couple of other Freaks sitting around a large circular table almost in the corner of the room. Two of them are arm wrestling; one has a couple of veins popping out of his forehead. As he continues to struggle, I notice sparks start to shoot from his hands. After a few seconds, the sparks become a bright ball of electricity, small shards of lightning shooting from the centre of the energy.
"Hey!" a Freak standing next to him says, using his power to force his hand closed. "No using your ability."
The Freak that's struggling grumbles under his breath, glaring at the Freak to his side and continues to try and win the game, but he knows he can't. The other Freak that's not struggling plucks a strand of thread from his shirt with his free hand and pantomimes a yawn for the other Freak's benefit.
Then, as Serena and I continue to watch them, the non-struggling Freak slams the hand of the other Freak down onto the table, winning the arm wrestle with ease. The cheering from all the tables around us is deafening. The winner grins proudly and flexes his huge biceps, winking at Serena when he notices her standing only a couple of steps away.
Serena smiles, and I don't miss the hint of red creeping to her cheeks as she leans towards my ear. "His name is Nathan," she says, "and he's the one that's going to train you."
The boy—Nathan—pushes away from the table and high-fives another Freak when he offers it, slapping Nathan on the back and congratulating him a moment later. He notices Serena again and sidesteps the Freaks to stand in front of her, quirking a small but nonetheless charming grin her way before saying, "Hey, Serena. Long time, no see."
As Serena and Nathan exchange pleasantries, I take note of the new Freak before me. He's tall, easily a few good inches taller than me. His tightly braided dark hair has been pulled back into a small ponytail behind his head, exposing his face. There's only a light sheen of sweat dotted around the dark skin on his throat from the wrestling, but other than that, he doesn't look to be winded at all.
Serena's smile grows at something he said that I didn't hear, the red still staining her cheeks. "Nathan," she says after a moment, moving me forward in the line of sight of the larger guy, who can't be much older than myself. "This is Luca."
"And the infamous Freak has a name," he replies with a large smile, extending his hand towards my own. "It's a pleasure to meet you, mate."
I stare at his hand, not reaching forward to take it. He must know about my ability. He probably forgot that I could have his ability within seconds. His hand drops to his side quickly when he realizes I won't take it. So instead of touching him, I look up and smile, nodding once.
He turns to look at Serena, his dark eyes showing hints of amusement. "He's a quiet thing, isn't he?"
"Not usually." She turns her head to look at me, her eyebrows raised like she wants me to say something to this huge person before me.
"So what's your ability?" I finally say, directing the attention back onto Nathan as I tilt my head at him. "Super strength?"
Nathan laughs then, the sound echoing around the large space. He jerks his thumb at the Freaks still on the table. The one that lost the arm wrestle is tending to his arm and hand, turning it over as if looking for an injury. "Do you think that would have been a fair game if I had super strength?" he asks.
I shrug slowly, not saying anything back.
"Exactly." He laughs again and smirks at Serena for a second before looking at me once more. "My ability is simple but just as awesome—"
Then he suddenly thrusts his arm out and it alights in a bright flame. I fall back a step, feeling the heat of the fire against my face as I stare wide-eyed at the light. The whole flame starts from his wrist and engulfs his entire right hand, not extending any further, but I'm sure Nathan could make it larger if he wanted or needed to.
"Relax, mate," he says with a smile on his face when he sees the expression on mine. "It's all under control." He closes his fingers together to create a fist and the flame extinguishes. No smoke, no nothing. It just disappears like it was never there in the first place. It's impossible and yet, so familiar at the same time.
The urge to have his ability transferred to me is almost overpowering. But again, I don't touch him.
I step back, keeping his skin as far away from mine as possible.
"Come with me." Nathan turns around on his heel and waves for me to follow him, flashing a small grin at Serena before moving forward without saying anything else.
I give a small, worried look at her before I trudge along on Nathan's tail. She nods an encouragement back, lifting her mouth into a half-grin.
Nathan turns his head to look at me, raising his brows like he's surprised I followed him before he says, "Let me show you where you'll be training."
* * *
The training room makes the Ghetto look less like home.
Three treadmills line one side of the space, each completely identical. Large black mats almost fill the entire floor, stopping at points where it creates a path to the other side of the room. Dumbbells of different weights are stacked onto a rack, each of them getting larger and more intimidating the closer they get to the ground. There are a few pull-up bars mounted against the wall on the opposite side where the treadmills are, just waiting to be used. There's only one bike machine in the corner of the room, facing outwards. There are four low walls in the centre of the space, each one extending higher and higher. I think you are supposed to try and jump over them, but I can't be too sure.
Overall, the whole room is scaring me, even though I know it shouldn't.
I'll probably be spending all my time in here until I'm ready to leave.
Nathan strides into the room as if the equipment doesn't bother him. He heads for the walls in the centre of the room and I follow behind him. He leans his back against the first wall he encounters, crossing his arms over his large chest as he watches me approach.
I can feel the cool air of the AC as it sweeps around the room, which I guess is for an obvious reason. If you train too hard without some cool air, then you'll probably collapse. I want to pass out, just from the thought of training here.
"Where did all this stuff come from?" I ask when I stride up next to Nathan.
He looks around the room like he's just realized all this stuff is here. "The Freaks brought them here."
"They stole them?" I raise a brow. "From a gym or something?"
Nathan nods and smiles a little. "There's no one else in the world that will use them, so why not take them?" He shrugs slowly, pushing away from the wall with a smirk. "They won't be missed."
Nathan tells me that the teleporting Freaks sent themselves up to the top to bring the gym equipment here, one by one. It almost took a whole week to fill the room, he tells me, but they managed. You can't steal something that is no longer claimed.
"It's like if you found a tenner on the floor and kept it for yourself, back before the world went to crap," he says, looking over his shoulder at me. "You knew it was wrong, but you were suddenly ten pounds richer. Finders keepers, losers weepers, right? Except now, as you know, there are no more losers."
Nathan brings me to each of the machines in turn, telling me what they do, what I must do to work them, and what part of my body they work on. Up close, each of them looks even more intimidating than they do further away, but I look at them like they have no effect on me, mostly so Nathan doesn't say anything.
"They got the equipment from the best gym in London," Nathan says, heading for the door at the end of the room. "They had to remove tracking devices from them, can you believe it?"
I don't respond, still staring at the large, black objects without making it seem like they are intimidating me.
Nathan opens the door he was heading for, slipping inside and reappearing in the same second with a bundle of clothes in one hand and a pair of trainers in the other. He lightly chucks the clothes against my chest and places the shoes on the floor in front of me. "You can get changed in there," he says, nodding his head toward the door he was just in.
I do, grabbing the trainers off the floor and walking into the room in the same step. I change quickly, tying up my laces a moment later. I leave my old clothes by the door and head for Nathan who is by the treadmills. The black T-shirt he gave me feels light and soft against my skin and the shorts feel perfect to move in. The trainers are slightly large for me, but I pulled the laces tighter so they can't slide off my feet.
Nathan smiles at me when I sidle up next to him. "Okay," he says, tapping the treadmill he's leaning against. "Hop on."
I give him a worried look and step onto the machine, my whole self now just slightly taller than Nathan. I grab hold of the two handrails on either side of me, staring at my feet and then the control panel in my line of sight.
"You ready then, my ol' mate?" Nathan asks and I nod, swallowing away the sudden rock in my throat. He presses the green Start button, the whole machine emanating a small beep.
And I start moving.