Chapter 18

IT WAS DARK when Pyra woke. At first, she believed she was dreaming, but when she tried to push herself up she found her hands were cuffed tightly behind her back. Her skull pulsed painfully. She could feel a ripe lump forming on the back of her head. She groaned and shifted about on the cold metal floor, trying to stand.

"This one's finally awake," said a muffled, gruff voice. "About time. We're clear to dock."

Pyra then became aware of other prone bodies surrounding her. She realized there was a heavy bag over her head, restricting her sight. The floor beneath her lurched and rattled for a few moments before settling back into stillness. Strong arms yanked her up and shoved her forward.

Pyra almost fell; her eyes refused to focus, and the ground seemed to move beneath her. Somehow, she kept her feet planted firmly to the floor and took a few tentative steps forward before being roughly shoved again. Her feet had begun to ache by the time she was ordered to stop. The bag on her head was unceremoniously ripped off.

Bright lights blinded her momentarily and unobstructed air filled her lungs for the first time in what felt like years. Pyra looked around once her eyes had adjusted and saw at least twenty other kids, aged between about five and fourteen years old. They stood in a large circular room, a white-tiled floor beneath them. Hunter Guards lined both sides of the room, rifles at the ready and helmets glaring down.

"Forward!" Shouted a Guard from somewhere behind Pyra.

The group lurched into motion until part of the circular room's wall slid to the side and allowed them to pass into a nondescript hallway with a grated metal floor.

When they came upon intersections, they stopped until the voice behind them barked out which direction to turn. They trudged into what looked like a bathroom with open toilets on the left side of the room, open showers to the right, and long metal benches across the center.

There were brown stacks of jumpsuits placed neatly on the benches. The commanding Guard told them to change, and Pyra complied, shedding her sweatshirt and ratty jeans, feeling distinctly vulnerable for a few long seconds before she zipped the jumpsuit closed. A few of the younger kids started to cry, and Pyra hoped they would stop before a short-tempered Guard forced them to.

The commanding Hunter Guard strode up to a small, square chute in the wall and glared at them. "Drop your old clothes in here and wait until we give you further instructions."

Pyra numbly stepped towards the chute and waited in line, carrying her old clothes in one arm and tugging on her itchy uniform with the other.

Silently, Pyra realized almost all her hope had gone. The last thing she remembered was Teth being knocked over by a Hunter Guard in front of their shack. He must have been killed. She felt fear, though it was also somehow distant, buried under layers of shame and regret somewhere far away. She came up to the chute and tossed in her clothes.

Pyra immediately felt worse. She shuffled back to join the members of the group that had already thrown in their own clothes. It wasn't long until the Hunter Guards herded them through a large doorway at the opposite end of the room.

A cafeteria lay beyond, filled with long, stainless-steel tables, plastic chairs, and brown-suited children. The room was like the inside of a massive cube, geometrically perfect and square. The white walls and floors were littered with scrapes and scuffs of varying degrees. The Hunter Guards pushed Pyra and the others into the cafeteria without a word, marching back through the bathroom. A thick steel door sealed shut behind them.

Pyra was acutely aware of many pairs of eyes looking in her direction. She faced them grimly. A large pack of burly boys detached from a table and advanced toward the group of new arrivals. Most of the lads wore smirks, taking stock of the fresh meat.

Pyra had encountered her fair share of bullies both inside and outside of school, and these boys looked no different. One of them walked at the front, strutting like he owned the place, and not the other way around. He was the first to speak when his group came close enough to Pyra's.

"Welcome to the Sword Station Containment Facility," the boy said. "My name is Parson. As of now, you are on my turf. Line up along the wall, please."

Pyra and her group complied, though her skin tingled, and her fists curled in anger. She leaned against the wall, a small boy that couldn't have been more than six standing on her right.

Parson started on the right end of the line, examining each of the newcomers as his comrades watched intently from a respectful distance. Occasionally Parson would wrap his arm around a boy and gently push him in the direction of his group. He ignored all the girls, only pausing to give them a once-over before moving on.

Eventually Parson came to the little boy next to Pyra and made a show of bending over to get a good look at him. Pyra wanted to throttle the guy.

"What's your name, squirt?" Parson asked the boy.

"Silas," he replied quietly. "Why did you make everybody line up?"

"I wanted to see whose man enough to join my friends over there and who isn't."

"What about the people who aren't?"

Parson shrugged, his long, dirt-colored hair sliding down his shoulders. "They don't get to stay with me."

"That doesn't seem very nice," Silas said, a confused expression on his face. "Why can't everybody be with you?"

"Because, kid," replied Parson, his voice taking on an edge, "not everyone's good enough."

"How do you know if someone's good enough or not?"

Parson stood up to his full height and looked down at Silas, his mouth a straight line. "It depends on how many questions they ask."

"That's dumb," Silas said. "What if they only ask good questions? Do they still get in?"

"Did you just call me dumb, kid?" Parson asked, baring his teeth and clenching his fists.

"What? No!"

Parson grabbed Silas by the throat and lifted him effortlessly into the air. "I think you called me dumb. I really don't appreciate being called names."

Silas sputtered and coughed as Parson and his gang laughed. Pyra seethed.

"Hey," she said. "Stop."

The laughter faded away and Parson dropped Silas carelessly to the floor, where the boy sucked in air with raspy, desperate breaths.

Parson stepped in front of Pyra, wearing a thin smile. "Now who do we have here? What's your name, honey?"

"Pyra, asshole."

Parson hooted and looked back at his group to make sure they laughed along with him. "This one's got some teeth on her! What do you say you come hang out with me and my boys for a while? I promise we'll be nice."

"No, thanks," Pyra said. "I don't associate with jerks."

"Again, with the name calling!" Parson threw his arms up, mocking frustration and drawing a laugh from his gang. He looked Pyra in the eye, his gaze darkening. "I really don't appreciate it."

Pyra anticipated his lunge and jabbed at his throat, shocking him at the same time. He jerked, and suddenly Pyra was flying, twisting rapidly until she hit the hard, white floor.

Dazed, Pyra didn't react as a hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her up. A red-faced Parson looked at her wildly, teeth bared.

"I'll kill you, bitch. Nobody hurts me and lives."

Pyra sent waves of electricity down his arms, weakening his grasp enough so she could twist her head and bite down hard on his hand. Parson screamed and dropped her to the floor, where she struggled to regain her footing. Parson stood before her, clutching his bleeding hand and snarling.

"Now you're really dead."

Pyra managed to electrify her arm, but before Parson could move, a boy stepped between the two of them. He was a little taller than Parson and had short, golden-blond hair which stood out starkly against his brown uniform.

"Do we have a problem here?" the boy asked, his voice deceptively polite.

"Yeah, Nift, we do. This little bitch tried to kill me."

Nift chuckled as if he were talking to a three-year-old. "It looked to me like you were threatening her little friend there. She was defending him."

"Look what she did to my hand!" Parson held it up, bitten and bloody.

"Well, you were trying to strangle her at the time."

"Shut up, Nift! She's mine! Either you move right now, or I'll kill you, too!"

"Will you?" Nift asked. "You know what happens when someone kills in here."

Parson fell silent for a moment before spitting on the floor. "This isn't over!"

Pyra watched Parson storm off. Nift faced her. He was handsome, his features sharp and his mouth twisted into a smile.

"You okay there, uh"

"Pyra," she rasped.

"Pyra," Nift repeated. "Are you okay? Parson didn't hurt you too badly, did he?"

She shook her head.

"Good," he put an arm around her shoulders. "C'mon. Let's grab your friend and talk."

Nift led her over to a very thankful Silas, whom she got to know over a bowl of cold soup. The boy had a passionate love for dinosaurs and coloring, but Pyra doubted the Hunter Guards would ever supply him with paper and crayons.

At some point a group of Guards emerged from an opening in the wall and ushered all the kids in the cafeteria through. Pyra was shown to a small cell, about half the size of the shack back on Pil II. There was a cot in one corner of the room, a small toilet in the other, and nothing else but white walls.

Once she was in, a transparent door slid shut behind her. She watched as the remaining kids passed by her on the way to their own cells.

Pyra eased herself down onto the cot and stared at the ceiling. Only when the lights went out did she start to cry.