Never before have my steps sounded so loud. One after the other-my shoe digging into the dirt, leaving the slightest shifting sound in its wake. But with the quiet that surrounds me at this hour, each step sounds like two metal pots clashing against each other.
It's not exactly late, but with it being fall and winter quickly approaching, the sun sets earlier in the day. Only a week left until it's September... making it just close to five months of our people being gone...
It's almost completely dark out even though it's only eight o'clock. With the sun gone, so is its warmth, meaning I'm left out here, trying to ignore the goosebumps rising on my arms from the crisp, cool air.
But this has to be done. I've already waited long enough, although the waiting was for good reason. I had to wait a few days to make sure Summer's guard was no longer up. She's been jumpy since I pointed out her missing toe, and I've been doing my best to act confused and concerned about her sudden jitteriness.
And I think the work's paid off, since she's no longer looking over her shoulder when she passes me. She's probably thinking I pointed out her scars out of curiosity, which is exactly what I need her to think.
I really do hope I won't have to kill Summer; I quite like her. She's funny and an excellent shot, but I'll do what I have to to make sure my secret stays a secret. Knowing my name-knowing all the things I did for the Torrencers... they'd never forgive me. And they wouldn't trust me once they find out what my files say.
It will say 'Sold', but it will also say something else-something that I couldn't explain without telling about all the things I did. And I know they wouldn't forgive me, even if I had no choice. Kefilwe, Paula, Jody, Janine, not even would Sam would understand. Not with the lives I've taken-the lives that still haunt me.
I shake my head. Now's not the time for regrets. I just have to focus on this.
The knife in my hand feels oddly heavy, and I send another small prayer in hopes I won't have to use this. I don't want to kill Summer, since I know I would feel tremendous guilt and explaining her death would be really tricky. Plus, she's a good runner, and has actually saved my life a few times.
But I know that if it comes down to her or me, I'll choose myself.
Funny. Usually I was never the one I'd choose, if I was even in the equation...
But I have two kids here who need me, even though one of them's being a real pain in the ass. Milo chewed me out for running with a ten-year-old girl and being totally okay with it while not even wanting him to do training. I didn't argue, even though I wanted to tell him I wasn't pleased about running with Margie, and I know he's been going to the training yard behind my back.
But I didn't say anything. I just let him rant and storm off to go meet with some of his friends. I think their names were Polly and... Zach? Or was it Pansy and Zeke? Something like that. As much as I would like to know who Milo's friends are, I've barely had the time to help him and his sister with their homework, much less do anything else with them.
But hopefully I'll be able to make it up to them after I get rid of this one problem at least.
I can see Summer now, walking along in the darkness at a leisurely pace. She's shivering, her hands rubbing her arms in attempt to warm them, water droplets dripping from her hair. I can't understand why she took a shower this late, since the weather is getting colder and she could easily get sick, but I guess it just makes things easier for me.
I hide behind one of the small storage sheds, quickly thinking up a plan of how to do this without drawing attention from any others who might be wandering about in the shadows. While Janine has locked up most of the storage facilities, a few of them-like this one, which contains gardening supplies-she leaves unlocked so she won't have to constantly keep locking it up and unlocking it for the children who help in the small farms and in the greenhouse after school.
I can use this to my advantage.
There's the soft sound of the dirt shifting under Seventeen's feet as she gets closer. I wait... and I wait... and I wait.
Until finally she walks by. Then I jump out and grab her.
She lets out a yelp in surprise and fear, but my hand covers over her mouth to muffle the noise. Even though my knife is in my free hand, I manage to open the door to the storage shed and shove her inside, closing the door behind me. I slam her up against the wall, holding the knife up against her throat and sending her a cold glare in the dimly lit shed.
"You scream, you die. Got it?"
She doesn't answer, but instead knees me in the stomach, knocking the air out of me. I should've seen it coming, but I don't chastise myself as I try to recover from the sudden blow. She tries to push me away, but as she does I kick my foot up and around to hit her left side. I stumble a bit, but regain my balance, and Summer, only slightly wounded from my kick, rushes to the door. I run over and grab her before she can reach her destination and slam her hard into the wall again.
She punches me, her fist slamming against my jaw in attempt to push me back again. She succeeds somewhat, but she doesn't push me far enough away. I give her the same treatment, only double the amount she gave me. Then I put the knife back up to her throat again.
"I don't want to hurt you," I growl, tasting the metallic taste of blood on my tongue.
Damn, the girl knows how to swing.
"Yeah, I'm sure," She spats, trying to wiggle free, but I press the knife harder against her neck, making the tiniest of cuts.
"I just want to ask some questions. Tell me what I want to know, and I'll let you live."
Summer scoffs. "And I thought you were different. You really are one of them. You just act like you're not."
"Drop the act. I know you're a member of the A.M.T.B., just like I was. I noticed when I saw that missing toe of yours." I hum. "And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that you actually never did tell much about your siblings. I mean, you said their names, but I've told people about my little sister too and they still have no idea who I really am. The only thing that didn't make sense was the accent, but I remember a few times you'd let it slip-when you'd mutter under your breath or something around those lines. You are an excellent faker.
"I'm a bit unsure as to how you got here. Abel would never buy someone, and your original mission couldn't have had anything to do with me since well, you were here before me. But I guess those stories can wait. What I want to talk about is your current mission." I narrow my eyes, and she stiffens. "How did they contact you to tell you to watch me, and how much do they know? Do they know I've told people things about them? What are your orders regarding me? How loyal are you to them?"
She blinks, her eyes shifting over my face as if to see if I'm making this up. "W-what?"
"Do not play games with me," I snap. "I don't want to hurt you, but don't think I won't slice your throat open. When did they contact you to tell you to keep an eye on me? How do they know I'm at Abel instead of Mullins?"
It's been a long time since I let this side of me surface-the ruthless face I leaned to put on, hiding any true emotions I feel. Because I'm not supposed to feel any sympathy, any guilt. That never happened, so I learned to fake it, while still doing what had to be done.
"Wait, you think I'm watching you for them?" Summer gapes, her American accent starting to come through her facade. "I thought you-No! I don't-I wasn't sold. I ran away."
My brows furrow together in confusion. "Explain."
"My siblings and I lived around the D.C. area, so we were one of the firsts to be picked up." She shudders. "It was hell there. My sister and I were separated since she was so much younger than me, and my little brother was too young to start training, so they shipped him off to God-knows-where.
"My little sister-Brooklynn-she didn't last a week. They tried to train her for running, sent her off on a small supply run with some other girl around her age. The radio operator didn't see the pack of zoms coming. He was just a kid too... There wasn't even a body that could turn into a zombie after those things were done with her." Her eyes start to tear up, and she closes her eyes to keep them from escaping past her lashes. "I couldn't stay there anymore."
"As sad as that story sounds, I have a hard time believing you actually escaped," I say, pursing my lips.
"I had nothing left, and contrary to your belief, you're not the only one who hated that place. I didn't work for the Torrencers, but I found out about them pretty quickly, and I found out how they sold runners, telling lies to those in charge of the A.M.T.B. about-"
"Yeah, yeah. I know all about that."
"Well, I heard they were gonna take some girl and ship her off to some Military Base in England, but she'd died on her last mission here. I saw my chance, because since her death just occurred, not everyone working for the Torrencers knew she'd died. So I went to the aircraft they were gonna use to transport her, and said that I was her, so they'd take me instead."
"You're lying," I growl. "Before they send anyone off, they take something, and I saw the scars-"
"And you saw how messily it was done." Her face darkens. "I knew what they did to products they sendoff, so I did what I had to do to look the part."
My eyes widen in horror. "You... you cut off-"
"I had no other choice. If I got caught, who knows what would've happened to me? The A.M.T.B. might've let me go, but by then the Torrencers has been tipped off that someone who wasn't working for them knew about their underground organization. I had to get away."
"How'd you get to Abel then?"
"When I arrived in England,
I knocked the pilot and the two soldiers who were escorting me there unconscious, and I ran. They had no idea who I really was since I said I was that dead runner, and there are tons of tan skinned, brown haired girls there, so I figured if they gave my description, it wouldn't help much. That's when I found Abel.
"Since the township was so small, I figured they wouldn't have much contact with America, so when they welcomed me in, I just acted normally. Changed my last name from Cobb to Swan, kept my first name, and became Runner Seventeen."
I let out a small hum, trying to process everything she just told me. "But how did you know I was a Torrencer? I mean, it must've become clear what base I was from when Van Ark said so when reading one of my files, but how did you-"
"Well, I didn't think the A.M.T.B. would suddenly start to send out runners internationally, and even before that, I saw the fear in your eyes when anyone tried to get you to open up about your base in America. I thought you were so afraid that you wouldn't dare disobey them, and when you saw my foot-heard my actual accent-I was afraid you'd tell them about me, and they'd remember."
"Well... I'm not one of them anymore." I take a step back and lower my knife. "I stopped being one of them a long time ago."
"When your sister poisoned your drink to take away your voice?"
I tense. "You did you-"
"You can make others believe you're sad and you miss your little sister, but I see the glimmer of anger and hatred in your eyes. You don't even get that look when Simon's mentioned, or Van Ark or Diana. Sure, two of them are dead, but what they did was unforgivable, and yet you don't hate them like you hate her."
I glare at her. "I'm going to leave this shed, and you're going to wait five minutes before you leave as well. We're going act like conversation never happened, got it?"
She nods. "If that's what you want."
"It is. You will say nothing of this. You'll keep up the facade and keep that British accent going and you'll not say a word of this to anyone, especially the part about Katelyn. In turn, I won't tell anyone who you are and I won't tell anyone about what was said in here."
"Deal."
I turn around and head for the door, but just before I can grab the doorknob, Summer speaks again.
"But just so you know, I'm not the only one who you need to worry about knowing who you really are, Five."
I look back at her. "What do you mean?"
"Just because I don't know your name, doesn't mean I don't know what you've done. At least, I think I know what you've done-some of it. The A.M.T.B. was a big place, if my memory serves right, but just because we never met, doesn't mean I didn't hear about you. I know a few things, but I'm sure the others know more."
"Others? There are more agents in Abel?"
She shakes her head. "No, but I'm almost positive there are people in New Canton who are doing the same thing I am-faking it. Although they didn't run away. It is only a theory, but New Canton had thousands of people there. You can't tell me that not one of them is a Torrencer agent."
"So what exactly are you trying to tell me?" I question, my voice cracking a bit.
"I'm saying watch your back, because you never know what might happen. Because if there any more agents around, they wouldn't know know me, but you... You're the hero of Abel and New Canton. You're the hero of England; The one who killed Van Ark. People like them-like us-don't forget faces. You know that. So be careful, and be cautious."
•
I keep up my brisk walking pace, and the cold seems to have much more of a bite now. There are no stars out tonight, and the light of the moon does little in showing me where obstacles are and where they're not. I've already ran into three trash cans, and the noise it made did not help in trying to sneak back to my sleeping quarters. Curfew is in about ten minutes, and I hope I can sneak in while everyone's getting ready for bed so I won't be asked where I've been.
Only that doesn't happen. Of course it doesn't.
As soon as I reach for the doorknob, the door opens, and Sam nearly runs into me. I jump back in surprise, letting out a small squeak, then sighing after the shock wears off. Sam smiles in greeting.
"Five, there you are. Penelope came in a few minutes ago and asked why you didn't..." His smile begins to fade, "come say... goodnight. What happened to your face?"
His hand reaches up to touch my jaw, applying slight pressure on my skin. I hiss in pain and pull away.
Crap, I'd forgotten about that.
"I, uh, ran into a door."
His eyebrows raise up, and the disbelief on his face is all too clear. "You ran into a door? Really?"
"Yeah. I do that sometimes."
He crosses her arms, a frown pulling at his lips. "Tell me then, how do you run into a door and bruise your jaw of all places?"
I shrug. "Same way I trip on air-it just happens... Now could you let me inside? It's cold out here."
He huffs. "I know you're short, but you're not short enough to hit your jaw on a doorknob."
"I never said 'doorknob'. I said 'door'."
Sam's frown deepens, and he doesn't move out of the way to let me inside. "Would you quit making up stories and tell me who the hell hit you?"
"It doesn't matter," I reply, trying to slide past him to get inside. But he grabs my arm before I can do so.
"It does to me. What happened?"
A sigh passes my lips, and I pull away from his grasp. "I'm fine, and just so you know, she looks way worse than I do."
"She?" He blinks, before his eyes go wide. "Oh... Oh."
"Oh what?"
"It was her, wasn't it?" He whispers, leaning in a bit closer. "That agent you said was here in Abel, from your old base. It was her who did this to you, wasn't it?"
"I... maybe, but we can't talk about it here, not right-hey!"
Sam's already taken ahold of my hand and is pulling me away from the sleeping quarters, leaving someone else to close the door behind him.
"What the hell are you-"
"Just come on," He interrupts, pulling me along towards the coms shack. It takes him maybe two seconds to open the door and pull me inside, closing the door behind him this time. He grabs the small blanket on his cot and hands to me. I take it while he sits down in his battered swivel chair. "Tell me everything."
"You couldn't wait until tomorrow?" I yawn, wrapping the blanket around me. "Beating someone up really drains a person, ya know."
"No, I couldn't wait. What happened? When did she hit you? What did you do?"
"One question at a time, please," I huff. "I tried talking to her using a... slightly violent method and a couple empty threats, but she wasn't as fearful of me as I'd hoped she would be. She kicked me, tried to run, punched me in the face, and ended being stopped by me delivering a few blows of my own. End of story."
"Yeah, but-but what did you do? You didn't... you didn't kill her, did you?"
"Of course not. I'm not that terrible," I say, knowing full and well the second part is a lie. "I got her talking, and found out I was wrong. She doesn't work for the underground operations."
He tips his head to the side in confusion. "But I thought you said-"
"It's complicated, okay? It's really, really hard to explain and I can't really explain this anymore because I've already broken my promise not to tell anyone. But don't worry; Everything's okay now. At least on that aspect, it is." I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders, turning to scowl at the door and the cold that waits on the other side. "Ugh, now I don't want to go back to the dorms because if we do we'll have to walk out in the cold."
"You're so dramatic. It's not even that bad yet."
"It is to me. I'm cold all the time."
He smiles softly. "Well, if you want, we could sleep in here for tonight. I'll sleep in the chair and-"
"I'll take the chair."
He blinks. "But-"
"I get to keep the blanket, and you can sleep on the cot." I send him a closed lipped smile. "Deal?"
After a short moment of consideration, he nods. "Fine."
I stand up, looking much like a cocoon with the blanket wrapped around me so tightly. I waddle over to the chair, which looks funny enough to make Sam crack up as he heads for the cot. I plop down, cringing at the loud creak that comes from the chair.
"This thing is so gonna give out on you one day," I say with a slightly nervous laugh.
"I know," He replies as he lays down. "That's why I was trying to be a gentlemen and let you sleep here, so if it collapsed in the middle of the night, you'd still be able to run. But you are just so stubborn."
"I'm not being stubborn. I'm just trying to be nice. And even if I am stubborn, you still hang around me, so that obviously means you like me enough to push that flaw aside."
"Or it just means I'm too nice to tell you to leave me alone."
I scoff. "Yeah, right. My theory is so much better."
"Yeah. Yeah, it is." He nods, before a flash of concern appears in his eyes. "So you're sure everything's okay? This other... ex-agent isn't going to try to kill you or anything?"
I shake my head. "No, everything surrounding me and my old base is okay for the moment. Besides, we have other things to worry about, which means we should probably get some rest."
I pull my arm out of my little cocoon and turn the light off before shoving my arms back into the warmth. "Goodnight, Sam."
He takes a moment before replying. "Night, Five."
A/N: Hello, everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it took so long to update. It's exams week. Bleh, but hopefully I'll be able to post more chapters once Christmas break begins.
This chapter is dedicated to Saxophone_Obsessor
Please remember to vote and comment. And tell me, what do you think of Summer now that you know her story? Thank you and have a blessed day!