take the sheet and look around. I don’t see any open beds.
Sam walks me over to the only open bunk in the far corner of the room.
Sabrina – who turns out to be the girl I faced in the ring earlier – is sitting on the bottom bunk, digging the mud from under her nails with the tip of a pocketknife.
“Top bunk still open?” Sam asks. Without waiting for a response, because we can all see that it is, she introduces me, “This is Eve.”
Sabrina sets the knife down beside her. For a second, she just looks at me, but then she takes my hand, and a slow grin spreads across her face. “Damn. Bryce did a number on your face.”
“Oh, yeah.” I bring my fingers absently to my temple.
“Top okay with you?” she asks.
***
I spend my first night as a soldier cowering under a thin sheet, shivering with wet hair. I remember the blow-by-blow of Bryce’s attack, Kane’s need to punish me, Lexi glaring at me, and I wonder if I can do this. I let a few hot tears slide silently down my cheeks. I decide I’ll give myself the night – only tonight – to be weak. Tomorrow I’ll be brave again. Then I remember the way Will dabbed my lip with the edge of his shirt, and Sam dressing me and combing my hair, and I slip into non-drug induced sleep for the first time since getting here.
Chapter 8
The mindscan itself creates a sense of calm. After the procedure, you will emerge with a peaceful sense of security. You will experience comfort, assured of your own sanity and confident of your place in society.
- What to Expect During Your Mindscan Pamphlet Page Two
Three loud blasts startle me awake. The high pitched alarm sounds over the intercom system at daybreak. The girls around me are already up and getting dressed. I have nothing else to wear, so I find Sam and follow her to the cafeteria.
“How’d you sleep?” she asks, noticing my puffy eyes.
“All right.” And it’s true. The physical effort of last night’s race exhausted me, in a good way, like I had used my body to accomplish something.
“It gets better, you’ll see.” She hands me a tray and I follow her into the line. We load our plates up with bacon, eggs and buttered toast.
Sam leads the way to a table where Sabrina, Lexi and a guy I haven’t met are sitting. They’re in the middle of a story. The dark-haired guy – Alex , Sam leans over and whispers, is reliving an experience with one of the instructors. “When I told him I didn’t know if the gun was still loaded, he picked me up clear off the ground and nearly threw me over the table.”
If we were going to swap horror stories about Kane, surely getting thrown in the pool with my hands tied behind my back would raise a few eyebrows.
“I’m Alex, by the way.” He leans over toward me.
I shake his hand. “Eve.”
“Just wait, newbie, you’ll have a collection of stories about Will in no time,” he says.
Wait. They’re talking about Will?
Lexi’s expression dares me to try topping Alex’s story. An urge spikes up inside me at wanting to fit in, to impress my new friends, but mostly to prove Lexi wrong. I let the urge take over. “Actually, I woke up to him standing over my bed one night in the hospital.”
Alex’s mouth falls open. “That’s kinda … rapey … don’t you think?”
The table erupts in laughter, and instantly I regret telling them. I only wanted to fit in, but bringing up something so private – and something that I think was meant to be kind – gives me a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I stay quiet throughout the rest of breakfast while Alex dominates most of the conversation, and has everyone else laughing with his stories of Will’s odd behavior and demanding expectations. Maybe I’d read the situation with Will entirely wrong. He is only under O’Donovan’s orders – who declared me a special interest, a side project. That is all. He is not to be trusted.
I see movement in the corner, and I follow Lexi’s gaze. Will stands just inside the doorway scanning the room, and Lexi watches him with unadulterated lust in her eyes. He’s in the same military issue T-shirt he was wearing yesterday, his muscular form accentuated by the way it stretches across his chest. My eyes scan the bottom for traces