Stronger by Lani Woodland Page A

It hurts, I can taste the blood in my mouth as I gnaw on my cheek. My fingers clench onto the chair’s arms. I’m sweating and tears are collecting behind my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. Or beg for mercy. My back arches off the chair and my nails dig into the armrest. The smell of blood permeates the air.
    Son of a Musk! It hurts.
    My eyes connect with Bryant briefly, but I look away, choosing to focus instead on the wall and its changing imagery. I count the leaves on the trees instead of the needles jabbing in my arm.
    The picture he gives me is obscene—or at least it would be if he weren’t such a lousy artist. He adds a blotchy spot to my face that looks like an apple, and a swear word below the picture on my forearm. Blood is dripping from my arm and cheek.
    “Want me to stop?” he asks with a sneer.
    “I can go all day.” I shrug even though my muscles are so tense it hurts to move. “Unless that needle is getting too heavy for you.”
    He throws the equipment against the wall and surges to his feet. He grabs my shoulder and slaps me across my face. My teeth rattle and my head snaps to the side. A slight buzz resonates in one ear. Blood drips through a cut his ring left against my lip. Tears fall down my cheek as I glare at him.
    “Stupid Deb! Someone needs to put you in your place.” He balls up his fist but Bryant grabs him.
    “Stop it, Lee.”
    Lee sputters, his eyes wild. “She has to be taught a lesson.”
    “Yeah, but we have two other stores to stop at tonight.” Bryant shakes Lee’s shoulder. “The stories will spread about how you took care of her. You marked her, man. And she’s bleeding; she won’t make it through the night.”
    Dots are firing before my eyes. The world rotates in and out of focus.
    Lee nods but he doesn’t want to go. Bryant practically drags him away. I sink back onto the chair.
    Ansel squats in front of me. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Do you need a medic? I have some… connections.”
    Black market connections. It makes sense that Ansel would know some of the doctors who do what they can for Debs, despite the fact that it’s illegal to waste medicine on a Deb. Can my new healing ability fix this much damage? If it can, I need to get out of this chair before anyone finds out. If not, I don’t want these walls to be the last thing I see.
    “No, thank you. I know someone,” I lie. Ignoring the spinning of the room, I stand up, moving cautiously, one step at a time, using the wall for support.
    “Next time you come in, the tats are on me.” Ansel smiles.
    “Thanks.” It hurts to lift my arm in acknowledgment, but I do. My face feels like it’s been stuck with a hot fire poker.
    Someone hands me my jacket as I stumble through the door into the foot traffic.
    The cold air is like a caress to my tortured face. I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, murmuring apologizes to the people I bump into. I almost pull one Deb down as I latch onto his arm. I get blood on his shirt.
    He curses at me and pushes me away. Then he sees my injuries and the anger in his eyes fades.
    In the Deb sector, there are fewer holo-displays and more flat images, even a few of the old-fashioned posters that don’t even change. It’s all propaganda though, depictions of hardworking, loyal Debs happily uniting to support the Val warriors and the Orion protectors.
    Instead of heading straight back to campus, I angle away from the sea. I know where I want to discover my fate, to see if I’ll heal or not. Past the bright lights of the city lies a footpath. Even though it’s dark, I find it easily. My feet have traveled this trail hundreds of time since I came to school. I leave the blazing glare of the city and follow the dirt path toward the summit. My favorite view of the city and campus is from the peak of this mountain.
    The trail switchbacks several times. The air grows thinner and my lungs clench as I press on. When I reach the plateau, I