Free The Industry by Rose Foster

resented having to share her cell, resented having her private grief for Lena disrupted by this boy. She’d never have imagined feeling this way before; permanent company was something she’d craved. But now that it had arrived in the form of Milo, she really wished the hangar came with two secure cells instead of just the one.
    Milo shrank away into his own corner and ignored her for the rest of the night, which suited Kirra perfectly. She wrapped herself tightly in Lena’s coat, which, despite being washed in the bathroom earlier that day, hadn’t lost all of her smell. Breathing in deeply, Kirra curled herself into her corner and closed her eyes.
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    The next morning Kirra awoke to find Milo sprawled across the floor. In her sleep she had forgotten all about him. He was lying on his back, his mouth wide open and his jaw dark with stubble. He seemed even longer all stretched out like that. His hands were still cuffed together tightly and every few moments he let out a snore.
    Kirra didn’t move. She wanted to savour her time alone before he woke up, precious as it now seemed. It was barely dawn. She never slept full nights anymore — the long days of inactivity saw to that — but she supposed it had its upsides. Sunrise was something she’d never experienced before, due to the fact that she’d never had any kind of sports training to get her up early enough to glimpse it. She moved her feet distractedly, watching the weak shadow they formed, and wondered if daybreak had always been so glorious and why on earth she’d slept through it all these years.
    In the silence, she considered what she would be doing today if she were at school. Sitting alone, probably, worrying about how friendless she looked and whether Cassie Cheng was going to stare her into a state of profound insecurity on the bus ride home. She almost managed a smile when she realised something: none of it mattered. Not now, anyway. She vowed silently to never worry about such stupid things again if only she could go back.
    â€˜How often do they bring food here?’
    Milo was awake. He was struggling with the cuffs again.
    Kirra ignored him and busied herself by wondering which of the guards had been assigned to deal with Lena’s body. Had they been careful with her? Respectful? She glanced at Milo. He was staring at her pointedly.
    â€˜It used to be all the time,’ she told him, avoiding mention of her lost friend. ‘But it’s been a while now.’
    Milo nodded, and ruffled his hair with his cuffed hands as though frustrated with its length. ‘It was fairlyregular at the factory,’ he explained, as though Kirra had wanted to know. ‘Not too bad, either.’
    â€˜The factory?’
    â€˜Yeah. This sort of hollowed-out warehouse they use. It’s where they kept me before.’
    Kirra wasn’t really listening. She wondered if they’d covered Lena’s face when they dumped her body.
    â€˜He’s an assassin, you know,’ Milo continued, scrutinising her from the corner of his eye as though interested to see if she was impressed with his deduction. ‘I could hear his recruits talking sometimes, from my cell in the factory. They need the code to get past security systems. To … you know … kill people.’
    Kirra closed her eyes, still thinking about Lena. She hoped that they had at least taken the time to bury her properly, but maybe that was too much to hope for.
    â€˜Yes,’ she said. ‘They kill people.’
    She was beginning to feel very ill, and her neck no longer felt up to the task of holding her head in place. When had she last eaten?
    Milo examined her for a moment. ‘You alright?’
    â€˜Fine,’ she murmured, the room spinning. ‘Just leave me alone.’
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    By the afternoon Milo was still struggling with his cuffs, more determined than ever to get them off. He was growing agitated, his teeth grinding as