don’t we?’ Alixis asks as I ram down hits on her punching gloves. ‘So it’s not like we can really die.’
‘Aye you can die all right. You only get one bullet throughout your whole tour. Most try to keep it for their last Demonstration, and they’re right to. If you need to use your gun before that, you might as well give up there and then. So: persistence and resistance . Persist through the fight, resist the pain.’
If it’s possible, my body tenses further at the mention of a gun. I never thought I would be in a position to carry the same weapon which murdered Mum. If I picked it up, would I be like him? The man who shot Mum? It was random, her murder. Just a crazy guy who overpowered a Herd officer and killed the first person he saw.
I’m not trying to be noble, pretending there’s a difference in killing people with a sword, or a dagger or a hair pin, to a gun, but I’m just not sure I could do it. Shoot someone and see their expression. Wonder whether it was the same expression which Mum had when she died.
I keep my mouth shut, because I’m basically incapable of saying anything around Dylan. Yet thoughts of the gun linger in my mind. I know one day soon I’ll have to decide what’s more important: Mum’s memory or my own survival.
When the sun begins to set, Dylan leads us over the field, towards the semi-translucent building I saw on the way into the camp. It’s the only place set apart from the playground.
‘Spend at least an hour in here. It will ease the cramps in your muscles,’ Dylan instructs. He fishes two keys out of his pocket and inspects them in the diminishing light. ‘Here’re your locker keys. In there you’ll find your, um, swimwear and anything else you’ll need for the Wetpod. And don’t worry, there aren’t any trigger cameras.’
He passes the keys over.
‘Dinner’s in the refectory from seven till nine. That’s the long, flat building right next to the Medic’s Cabin.’ He points over the field, to where the lights are beginning to flicker on in the pods. ‘See you both tomorrow.’
As he turns to go, Alixis calls to him.
‘What’s happening tomorrow?’ She’s still out of breath and her voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. Dylan pauses.
‘The same again. I’ll meet you at seven for morning laps. Get breakfast at six if you want it.’ Right then it’s hard to believe he’s even got a playful side. Alixis lets out a dramatic sigh.
‘You’ll get used to it. If you don’t, you’ll die on tour and that’s just the way it is,’ Dylan says. His ‘th’s sound like hard ‘t’s, making the sentence seem less angry somehow and more manner of fact. With that, he’s off. I watch as he walks a few paces then breaks into a jog, cutting a diagonal across the field.
After spending all day with him, I suddenly miss his familiar scent. It’s fresh, like bedding which has been left to dry outside. A hollow emptiness creeps through me. It’s as though I’m on a sinking ship watching the rescue boat float farther away. But that’s ridiculous. Dylan’s not my beacon of hope; completing my tour and getting back to Dad alive is. I clench the key in my hand and head inside the Wetpod.
Dylan’s right. There’s only one way of getting out of this. I train. I kill. I go home.
DYLAN IS IN LOVE with Alixis. I’m sure of it.
For the past week, I’ve watched him run over to her every time she falls, vomits, or has to lie down. Fitness doesn’t exactly come naturally to her; her womanly curves are still as evident as ever and she can’t even finish one lap more than the day we started. Yet I see exactly why Dylan would fall in love with her, because in two short weeks, I love her too.
She moans nearly all the time, but when she finds something funny, she laughs so loud and for so long you can’t help laughing, too. I’ve never spent so much time with anyone in my whole life. We train, eat, and sleep in the same space as each other yet she hardly
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