Remy
Dinner. Time for our awkward triangle again, made even more awkward by the weird feelings I was having. I could never tell Linette and Tater about my conversation with the Senator. Linette would curse me for not pushing for more. Tater would read right through me and know my emotions were getting in the way. Because no matter how hard I tried to see the Senator as an enemy—the evil, alien leader—my stupid, tender heart still felt the tiniest bit bad for him. When I was in his presence, it was nearly impossible to imagine him capable of atrocities.
I’d spent the afternoon telling myself exactly what Tater would say to me. He killed your parents. He killed my family. He gave the order to kill billions of people, including innocent children, all over the globe.
That did the trick to temporarily sour my stomach.
But there was one thing I could tell them.
“Third week of July,” I whispered.
They both paused midway through their sips of tomato soup, and then kept eating as if they hadn’t heard.
After a minute, Linette asked in a low voice, “How do you know?”
“I got a look at a calendar in a room. That week is blacked out.” I dipped dry toast into my soup.
A small, smug smile of victory graced Linette’s pretty lips. “Can’t wait.”
I took a bite and whispered, “Do you think anyone here will be willing to fight?”
“Yes,” Tater answered for her. That was all he said, and it made me relieved. I began to stand when Linette quietly cleared her throat.
“Find out if the head roach is mating too.”
I swallowed down the rising bile in my throat, and met Tater’s intense brown eyes. His gaze held a warning, a silent plea to be careful. I nodded down at my tray and left them to do my kitchen chores before it was time to meet the four girls in the dorm for our lesson.
The next morning, accompanied by a guard, I led the children outside to meet an extremely fit Baelese woman. She wore gym shorts and a sports tank, and every muscle on display was cut. I felt extremely soft, in more ways than one, when she gave me a sneer up and down before barking orders at the children to line up.
I stood against the wall, knowing this was going to be awful.
And it was.
Yes, they were aliens, and their minds were beyond intelligent, but their bodies were small. They were just kids. She pushed them so hard with no build-up. They kept falling and slipping. Their little faces were scrunched up. A few of them, who dared to cry, were shouted at so thoroughly everyone in Primo Town probably heard.
I kept my eyes averted and my jaw locked, biting my tongue harder than I ever had in my life. She was like a drill sergeant on crack.
When I heard a tiny scream, followed by a crack, I had to look. Little Milna was laying at the base of the ladder, holding her head. The instructor was bent over her, screaming, and the little girl was struggling to sit up.
“Get up! Get up!”
I ran and skidded to a stop next to them. “Milna! Are you o—”
A thump against my cheekbone, followed by a bloom of vicious pain, sent me flying back on my butt, covering my cheek with my hand.
“How dare you!” The way her head jerked toward me, and the predatorial look in her eyes was like something out of a horror movie. “Go to the wall. Stand there and do not move.”
Every ounce of fear and worry that had been pumping through my blood fizzled and settled into an eerie calm as I pushed to my feet and walked unsteadily to the wall. I pressed my cheek and chest to the wall, arms at my sides, and I remained there for the next twenty minutes until I heard the instructor’s voice again.
“Take them back to class.” Followed by a mumbled, “Worthless human.”
When I pulled away from the wall, I felt my forehead. A rough spot was there from how hard I pressed myself into the stonework. What the heck?
I could barely think as I followed the guard back to our room. It wasn’t until we got to the doors that I thought to turn and find Milna. It took all of my willpower not to touch her and feel her head. Instead I said gently, “Turn around.”
I squatted enough to peer at the spot on the back of her head that appeared raised through the hair. I glanced up at the guard.
“She was hurt during the exercises. Do you have a nurse?”
The guard looked at her. “Are you bleeding, Milna?”
She felt it, and her fingers were dry. “It just hurts a little.”
“She will heal quickly,” the guard said. “Much quicker than you would.” He jerked his head toward the room, so I went in.
As we walked, Milna whispered, “It is okay, Ms. Remy.” She looked up at me with huge doe eyes. “Do not worry for me. Pain is only temporary.”
“I know,” I whispered, very aware of my throbbing cheek. “But it made me sad to see you hurt, and when you were crying.”
“I cried because I am so weak and small. It is frustrating. But I will get stronger.” She looked right at me, serious, never smiling.
I glanced around, but nobody was near. “Does it scare you when the instructor yells at you?”
Her head tilted in confusion. “Of course not. She wants us to get stronger and be the best we can.”
Oh, my gosh. My abdomen clenched as if I’d been struck.
They weren’t human. They weren’t anything like us. How many reminders did I need before it would sink in?