Numbers Game (8 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Rode

BOOK: Numbers Game
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My anger surged, then exploded. “Don’t you dare lecture me about following the rules. I’ve obeyed every stupid law that’s ever been written. I spent my entire life following orders and pleasing people, believing that if I did my life would be perfect. Look where that got me!”

He gave me a long look. “Whatever happened in your past, this is the time to be very careful. You think you’re safer here, unwatched? You really think the empress would allow a bunch of reds and yellows to roam the country without very close supervision?”

“Just two reds.”

He let out a frustrated breath. “Some of my guys have died, Treena. This life is dangerous. We had to send you in unarmed for initiation, but I’ll issue you a weapon as soon as you’re trained. Smugglers won’t hesitate to kill you if it means their freedom. Add that to the fact that most of the nation hates us, and you’ll see why it’s so important to follow orders exactly.” He started to turn, then paused. “Oh, and by the way, you’ll want to dispose of that potato before we get back.”

“She was just a little girl,” I whispered. “I couldn’t trade her happiness for mine.”

Vance’s expression hardened. “You’ll get over that soon enough. Time to head for the bunker. Try to keep up.”

With that, he turned and jogged away.

 

><><><><><><><

 

Major Murphy, the stern-faced man who had met me at the train station, had told me about the bunker. But I hadn’t expected it to be an actual bomb shelter far beneath the Council Building. Had the guys chosen this place, or was it all NORA could offer them? Was it intended to protect EPIC from the world, or was it the other way around?

We must have descended a dozen staircases before we reached the bottom. My ears felt fuzzy as the stairwell grew darker and the air became heavy and cool. It was hard to believe that we were only a few kilometers away from the empress’s palace and the famous square where Peak had first delivered the Standards. This felt like an entirely different world. At the very bottom was a dirty concrete wall and a single door. With a shove, Vance flung the door open and held it for me.

The front room wasn’t what I had expected. There was no furniture at all, and workout equipment lined the walls. A thick, rectangular training pad sat in the middle of the floor. The stale air smelled like sweat and urine.

On the wall closest to the door was a shelf full of stunners. Helmets and gear had been shoved haphazardly into the bins below, and a combat boot lay on its side on the floor.

“The bedroom is down the hall, and the washroom is to the left.” Vance still held the door for me, and I realized that I was standing there like an idiot.

“Lovely,” I muttered and stepped inside. “Home sweet home.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He closed the door, pushed on it, and slid some kind of metal device closed. It snapped with a click.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“A dead bolt,” he said. “It’s not exactly NORA approved.”

“A lock? But why?”

“I don’t trust NORA’s locking system.”

There was a slight hesitation in his words, which made me realize that it wasn’t the locking system he didn’t trust. What kind of guy led a group of misfits, arrested children in the name of the law, and locked himself underground? A part of me—a very small part—was intrigued. There was distant laughter from the other room, and I remembered that there was a whole other team I had yet to meet. More stares and more doubts.

“Wait,” I said before he could walk away. “Do you think I can do this?”

Vance hesitated. That was all I needed to know. So much for a good first day in EPIC.

“Training starts tomorrow,” he said. “You’d better get some rest.”

 

11

 

I
slammed the screen closed in frustration. My techband’s error message displayed no matter who I tried to call. Either we were too far underground to receive a network signal or I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone. Something told me it was the latter.

The guys were still using the washroom. I sat on the dirty floor in the hallway next to the bedroom door, my knees propped up casually. After initiation, what was one more dirt stain? Besides, soon I’d receive a black uniform instead. As far as the guys knew, I’d passed with flying colors. Vance hadn’t told a single person about my failure, which both relieved and bothered me. If he thought I owed him anything, he was flat-out wrong.

I sighed and clicked the screen open again. While on the train, I’d gotten one last note from my mother. It was a text message, not a real recording, but better than nothing. I scanned the list and found it again.

 

As you asked, I told your friends you got a second chance. They’re excited for you. Dresden is going to the academy, Broadcast Division. He says to tell you good luck and he hopes to see you there soon. Taliyah’s assignment is laundry for the military. She leaves tomorrow and says to keep fighting for what you want. Your father and I wish you the best. Mom.

P.S. I sure hope you’re doing this for yourself and not for Dresden.

 

Dresden’s assignment wasn’t a surprise. He was probably packing right now, getting ready to board the morning train. At least we’d be in the same city, even if I couldn’t contact him. There was a heavy ache in my chest. He was moving on without me. And I was sleeping in a washroom, arresting children and searching for a spy.

And then there was Tali. Laundry wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs, but she’d always wanted to get out of Olympus. It was a change of scenery, at the very least. If only I could have said good-bye.

Laughter floated down the hallway from the bedroom. I got on hands and knees and snuck a peek—if they weren’t dressed by now, it wasn’t my fault—just in time to see Ross stepping out of the washroom with a towel around his waist. I pulled back, my cheeks burning.

Team One had been nice enough during introductions, but now the guys basically pretended I wasn’t there. I didn’t complain about that. In a way, I imagined myself being pretty comfortable here. At least everyone seemed to see each other at the same level despite the hundreds of points that varied between them. It was almost like Ratings didn’t even matter.

Minutes later, Vance peeked his head around the corner and nodded. His dark hair was combed neatly back, and he wore a gray T-shirt. The old-fashioned soap smell that always followed him was stronger now.

“It’s all yours.” He handed me a folded black uniform. “Hope you find it clean enough to suit you.”

I shot him a look and stood, trying not to notice how his T-shirt accented his rock-hard chest. A few steps through a noisy room full of laughing, half-dressed men, and I entered my new “bedroom.” The mirrors were still misted with steam. A blanket and pillow—both off-white, and both well used—sat by the door. That was the extent of my bedding for the next two weeks.

“Lovely,” I muttered and went back out to the bedroom. I swiped the pillows off the two nearest beds and strode back into the washroom. If I had to sleep in here, at least I’d be relatively comfortable.

I decided to camp out under the sanitation sinks jutting out from the wall. It had a clear view of the door, and the floor wasn’t wet there. I slid the door closed and shoved the lock into place before settling down on the hard tile.

Now, if only I could do something about the smell. Stuffing the pillows under my body and the clean one under my head, I pulled the blanket over my shoulders. The blanket smelled. Didn’t they sanitize their fabrics down here?

Night had fallen long ago, but the guys didn’t quiet down a bit. They were discussing the day’s events, and occasionally the sound of arguing floated through the door. I strained to hear and caught a word here and there: Mission. Frenzy. Rating Day. Council.

The word
council
made me think of Konnor. His plan to unseat the current councilor of integration made me uneasy. If by some miracle he did get the position in the next few days, my parents would have to move here. He’d be working in the very building above us. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It would be nice to see my mom again—I didn’t like leaving on such uncertain terms—but it was nice to be out of the house, even if it was . . . this.

I hope you’re doing it for yourself and not for Dresden,
Lanah had said. Was she really more worried about my motives than my safety? Wouldn’t most mothers have said, “Be careful,” or “I love you” at that point, and not lectured about a boyfriend?

And why not do it for him? I’d had a huge crush on him for years. I’d tutored him into the top ten for academic scores, and he’d trained me to become a pretty decent khel player before we finally hooked up. Together we made up a perfect person.

My fingers found their way up to my forehead again, and I jerked them away.
Who are you kidding? Dresden is a perfect person without you.

My thoughts soon grew fuzzy, and a warm sense of comfort spread throughout my tired body. My last thought was
One day down, thirteen to go.

 

><><><><><><><

 

A harsh banging shattered my dreams, and I sat up too quickly, completely disoriented. My head whacked something hard with a painful thump.

Groaning, I held my head in my hands so it wouldn’t explode. Where was I? It was so dark I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or awake. My head throbbed as it all came back. The washroom. EPIC. The mission. But what was that pounding noise?

I stood slowly and made my way to where the door should have been, feeling along the wall with one hand and holding my sore head with the other. It took a few seconds of fumbling to find the lock, and then I opened it a crack. “Hello?”

“Time to train,” a gruff voice whispered, and a hand yanked me through the door.

“What? Let go of me!”

The hand dropped. “Let your eyes adjust for a second,” my captor whispered. “You’re about to run into a wall. Here, follow me.”

“Vance?”

His hand reached for mine, more softly this time, and pulled me through the darkness.

It really was Vance. “But where are we going?”

“Training,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Neb was waiting for us in the training room, bleary-eyed and shirtless. Other than the three of us, the room was empty. The lights that had seemed sufficiently bright yesterday were barely adequate now, and shadows haunted the corners of the training arena. Now that my heart had slowed a bit, my mind was finally working right.

“You really are serious?”

“Our team has missions day and night. The sooner you get used to it, the better. Besides, the training room is all ours.”

“If I accidentally murder someone tomorrow out of exhaustion, I’ll blame you,” I muttered.

Neb barked a laugh, then clamped his mouth shut when Vance shot him a look.

“Why is Neb here?” I asked.

Vance paused. “Observation.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but suddenly understood the real reason. Vance was, in a small way, being a gentleman by refusing to be alone with me.

“I still don’t know why you’re really here,” Vance said, walking to the far corner. “But I’m going to find out right now. Let’s see what you can do.” He tilted a padded black cylinder and rolled it toward us. I eyed it with confusion. “This is a training stand,” he said. “I want you to pretend it’s a person. Punch it, kick it, whatever.”

I raised an eyebrow. This was training? Beating up a black piece of padded foam? This would be interesting. With a mighty heave, I threw my fists at it. I nearly fell over as the stand twisted under my weight. With a flush of embarrassment, I set myself again and kicked at it, almost missing altogether. Then I tried to use my shoulder to shove it aside. It didn’t budge. The thing must have weighed as much as a transport.

Neb was trying so hard not to laugh that his face was bright red. Even Vance had a smile tickling the corners of his mouth. I felt utterly and thoroughly humiliated. Putting my hands into fists, I faced them. “What?”

“Well, that answers
that
question,” Vance said, and Neb finally exploded with laughter. His snorts were so ridiculous that I glared at him, rubbing my sore shoulder.

“So why did they send you, then?” Vance muttered. “If you’re inexperienced, there could really only be one reason.”

“What’s that?” Neb asked, leaning calmly against the wall.

“A tool,” Vance said. “They want us to use her as a decoy or something. The Demander and the empress must not be satisfied with our performance.”

You could say that
. I kept my face impassive.

“If that’s the case,” Vance said slowly, “it’s even more important that you learn to defend yourself, Treena. Neb, come here.”

Neb jumped to attention like a lapdog. I almost expected his tongue to start flapping. “Yes?”

“Teach her the basics. Just punches and kicks for today. Tell me when she’s got it.” He didn’t wait for an answer but retreated to the corner of the room where he’d gotten the stand. Then he sat on the floor, back to us, rigid and straight. I watched him in confusion.

“What good are kicks and punches when someone points a stunner at you?” I muttered. “I thought we’d be doing shooting practice or something.”

“They didn’t give me a stunner until I’d been here a month,” Neb said. “Gotta prove yourself first. Now I’ll show you how to punch. Make a fist and bend your thumb around the front.”

 

><><><><><><><

 

It was hard to pay attention to Neb’s droning when Vance was training across the room. He had spent the first ten minutes sitting still, completely ignoring us. I watched him out of the corner of my eye while he stretched. Neb was making me punch the black stand—the bag, as he called it—and soon I could make it buck backward a little. It was a small feat, but it was progress. Then we moved on to kicks. It was about then that Vance started fighting the air.

It was the strangest, most intoxicating thing I’d ever seen. His breathing deepened and came out in short bursts as his arms and legs whipped through the air—faster and faster. Soon his entire body was a black, dancing blur. Even Neb had stopped talking and stared in awe.

Vance dropped to the ground and spun as if kicking the feet out from under an invisible opponent and then leaped forward with a yell. Then there was a series of bullet-quick punches just before he leaped again, avoiding an unseen attack. His arm whipped out behind him as if he were holding off another man to his right, and his leg swept out again as he turned. Three quick kicks, each in a different direction, and another yell. I hardly dared blink.

I’d watched Dresden get sweaty playing khel hundreds of times, and his tall, lean body was carefully toned. But there was something raw about Vance, something wild and powerful. His build was shorter and wider than Dresden’s, yet somehow he seemed much quicker. And there was something unsettling about his eyes.

Suddenly those eyes were on me, and I realized I was staring. With a quick clearing of my throat, I turned back to the bag. Vance straightened and wiped his forehead. His shirt, wet with perspiration, clung tightly to his hardened frame. “Let’s see what you’ve learned.”

“You just want a break,” I said and swallowed hard. Vance had taken off his sweaty shirt. I tore my eyes away and locked my gaze onto the bag. My cheeks were hot as I kicked it again with a grunt. After Vance’s performance, he probably thought I was the weakest, silliest girl he’d ever met.

He didn’t smile. “Show me a punch.”

I hit the bag as hard as I could. It didn’t budge.

Vance shook his head. “No, I mean punch me.” He put a gentle hand on my shoulder and eased me toward him.

I shrugged. “Fine.” With a heave, I threw my fist toward his chiseled stomach still glistening with sweat. He grabbed my fist before it connected. “Not there. If I were trying to attack you, that wouldn’t even slow me down. Aim here.” He pointed to his solar plexus, where his rib cage met in the center.

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