mile. How many people did you kill?’
Her question takes me by surprise. I look up, open mouthed, before digging my spoon rather ferociously into my breakfast.
‘One,’ I mumble.
‘I killed three. You’d think that would get me more followers. Maybe I should’ve tried saving someone else.’ She sighs, before finishing off the last of her grapefruit.
I wish Alixis would stop obsessing over our followers. She’s so preoccupied with the theory behind Demonstrating—getting followers for an easy twist, reading up on those who have completed their tours in the past—that she’s forgotten our best chance of surviving is to be able to fight. Also, it seems horrid to talk about the people we killed as though they owe us followers.
‘Alixis,’ I whisper into my bowl. ‘Do you ever regret what you did, you know, at the tryouts?’
She ponders this for a long moment, so long that I almost think she hasn’t heard me. Until I see her swallow. She meets my eyes.
‘No, I don’t. Because I’m still alive. Do you?’
Shame creeps over me. I shake my head.
Alixis doesn’t comment, just looks around and takes a deep breath. ‘Talking of the tryouts, I don’t suppose you’ve seen the brothers who fought with us, have you?’ she asks, her casual tone sounding forced.
‘Actually Shepherd Fines mentioned something last night. He told me not to worry about them. Why?’
‘No reason, I just don’t know why they’ve both disappeared.’ She rubs her forehead, practically speaking to herself.
‘Why would even one of them disappear?’ I ask. Heat forms blotches of pink on my friend’s face.
‘Don’t ask me. Anyway, it’s great news about the boy.’ She smiles widely.
‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘Great news.’
Why do I feel as if I’m lying?
We head straight to the field. In the distance, a lithe figure leans against the oak tree. Even from here, I can tell he is missing Dylan’s easy gait and strong frame. I check my digipad. 7:00am. We’re bang on time for training, so where’s our trainer?
My stomach flips continuously as we walk towards the person, as if any second Dylan will jump out from behind the tree. The man—I now recognise him as Gideon from last night—doesn’t even look up from his digipad when we approach.
‘Come back after twenty laps. You know the score by now.’ He speaks plainly, punctuating his words with little clicks from his digipad. I lean in to see the Debtbook profile of the boy from last night’s fight, Dao.
It takes a few seconds to notice Gideon scowling at me.
‘Twenty laps. Now.’
***
THE LAST TWO LAPS ARE KILLERS. Alixis has bowed out as usual, but I push my body forwards. It’s as if I’m running through thick goo, forcing each muscle to work five times as hard. I wonder if invisible hands have sprung up from the earth, pulling on my arms and legs. My lungs strain to keep me breathing, and each gasp sends sharp cold pain into my stomach, like the air’s full of tiny needles.
I keep going because I’m going to finish the twenty laps today. Dylan thinks I don’t try. Well, how is this for trying?
As pain screams up my body, I push. Stretching out my legs, I leap rather than run to the finish line. And then—
Twenty laps.
I. Did. It.
I’m still laughing when my knees buckle. The grass is all dewy and it cools my burning back. For the first time since I’ve been here, I get a tiny flicker of hope. I could actually do this. I could complete my tour. I could stay alive.
‘That’s better than I was expecting, fainter. I want twenty-three laps tomorrow. And you’ll be wearing these from now on.’
Gideon’s feet appear by my head. He throws down four black L-shaped things so that they land on the grass next to me. When I go to grab one, it pulls my hand down.
‘Weights,’ Gideon explains. ‘They go around your wrists and ankles.’
That’s it. That’s all I get. I strap them on angrily, yanking off my boots, scowling and thinking unpleasant
Her question takes me by surprise. I look up, open mouthed, before digging my spoon rather ferociously into my breakfast.
‘One,’ I mumble.
‘I killed three. You’d think that would get me more followers. Maybe I should’ve tried saving someone else.’ She sighs, before finishing off the last of her grapefruit.
I wish Alixis would stop obsessing over our followers. She’s so preoccupied with the theory behind Demonstrating—getting followers for an easy twist, reading up on those who have completed their tours in the past—that she’s forgotten our best chance of surviving is to be able to fight. Also, it seems horrid to talk about the people we killed as though they owe us followers.
‘Alixis,’ I whisper into my bowl. ‘Do you ever regret what you did, you know, at the tryouts?’
She ponders this for a long moment, so long that I almost think she hasn’t heard me. Until I see her swallow. She meets my eyes.
‘No, I don’t. Because I’m still alive. Do you?’
Shame creeps over me. I shake my head.
Alixis doesn’t comment, just looks around and takes a deep breath. ‘Talking of the tryouts, I don’t suppose you’ve seen the brothers who fought with us, have you?’ she asks, her casual tone sounding forced.
‘Actually Shepherd Fines mentioned something last night. He told me not to worry about them. Why?’
‘No reason, I just don’t know why they’ve both disappeared.’ She rubs her forehead, practically speaking to herself.
‘Why would even one of them disappear?’ I ask. Heat forms blotches of pink on my friend’s face.
‘Don’t ask me. Anyway, it’s great news about the boy.’ She smiles widely.
‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘Great news.’
Why do I feel as if I’m lying?
We head straight to the field. In the distance, a lithe figure leans against the oak tree. Even from here, I can tell he is missing Dylan’s easy gait and strong frame. I check my digipad. 7:00am. We’re bang on time for training, so where’s our trainer?
My stomach flips continuously as we walk towards the person, as if any second Dylan will jump out from behind the tree. The man—I now recognise him as Gideon from last night—doesn’t even look up from his digipad when we approach.
‘Come back after twenty laps. You know the score by now.’ He speaks plainly, punctuating his words with little clicks from his digipad. I lean in to see the Debtbook profile of the boy from last night’s fight, Dao.
It takes a few seconds to notice Gideon scowling at me.
‘Twenty laps. Now.’
***
THE LAST TWO LAPS ARE KILLERS. Alixis has bowed out as usual, but I push my body forwards. It’s as if I’m running through thick goo, forcing each muscle to work five times as hard. I wonder if invisible hands have sprung up from the earth, pulling on my arms and legs. My lungs strain to keep me breathing, and each gasp sends sharp cold pain into my stomach, like the air’s full of tiny needles.
I keep going because I’m going to finish the twenty laps today. Dylan thinks I don’t try. Well, how is this for trying?
As pain screams up my body, I push. Stretching out my legs, I leap rather than run to the finish line. And then—
Twenty laps.
I. Did. It.
I’m still laughing when my knees buckle. The grass is all dewy and it cools my burning back. For the first time since I’ve been here, I get a tiny flicker of hope. I could actually do this. I could complete my tour. I could stay alive.
‘That’s better than I was expecting, fainter. I want twenty-three laps tomorrow. And you’ll be wearing these from now on.’
Gideon’s feet appear by my head. He throws down four black L-shaped things so that they land on the grass next to me. When I go to grab one, it pulls my hand down.
‘Weights,’ Gideon explains. ‘They go around your wrists and ankles.’
That’s it. That’s all I get. I strap them on angrily, yanking off my boots, scowling and thinking unpleasant
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