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“Kingston,” I said, choking again. “He might be dead, they—”
“Silence!” one of the guards barked out and slammed the butt of their baton into the back of Ryker’s head. He was knocked forward and let out a pained sound, a grunt.
“Hey!” I yelled and turned around to look at the man who had done it. “You didn’t have to hit him!”
“It’ll be you next,” the guard said through the white face mask. It was so unsettling. The features were smooth and devoid of emotion and I couldn’t see the eyes on this guard because of the deep shadows made by the bright sunlight from above. His voice wasn’t even angry, it was matter of fact.
I wanted to be brave and tell him to hit me, to fucking come at me, but I was a coward. My breath hitched in my chest as I turned away and looked to the front, towards the building.
Next to me, Ryker rubbed his head and stood still again. I waited until I heard the guard walk away, and I reached out to hook his finger in mine. That was all I could give him.
Beside me, Penny held back a sob. I heard it catch in her chest and I could sense her pain. So, as much of a coward that I was just then, I still needed to comfort her.
I reached to the side and took her hand in mine as well. I held them both, just giving them the human touch that we all craved at that point.
I could sense each one of us calming down, reaching the point where we could breathe again and take what was coming to us.
We didn’t have to wait long to find out. A small side door opened on the building in front of us, and Thackeray came strolling out like he was going for lunch in the park. Like we were his old friends, and he was happy to see us.
Maybe he was happy. He looked happy. Smug, yes, and definitely pleased with himself.
“Welcome to the re-education center,” he said, and clapped his hands together. “You have been selected for training as part of our Dirty Kingdom showcase coming up at the end of the school year. The training you receive here will be used to determine the fittest among you, and who will be chosen.”
Thackeray motioned to one of the masked men at the back, and he stepped up next to Thackeray. He was tall, broad-shouldered, was wearing a black face mask instead of a white one, and his guard uniform was lined with red edging against the black.
This guard pulled a small, square electronic device out of his pocket and looked over towards Thackeray. Thackeray nodded at him, so the guard lifted it to his mouth, slid his gloved thumb along the edge, and an electronic buzzing sound filled the air like an old-fashioned school PA system.
“Please release the rest of the participants,” he said in a deep, authoritative voice, and it clicked for me. This was the sound I’d heard when I’d first woken up. He was speaking into a microphone, broadcasting instructions across the prison.
Behind us, doors flung open and groups of male and female captives filed out of the buildings that matched ours. They marched forward until they lined up alongside us, some to the left and some to the right.
I glanced back and forth, noting two groups on either side, each with five men and five women lined up in nightgowns and boxers like ours. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I could already tell I didn’t like it. Every one of them looked beat up and hardened, and every one of them looked like they could last longer than the three of us.
They were all young people, though, of all backgrounds, but every single one had that edge to their eyes. A hunger that drove them to lock their eyes on us as if we were prey.
Thackeray leaned towards the main guard and said something to him. He held the mic up to his mouth again before he spoke.
“Today’s task is an easy one,” he said, and his voice boomed across the prison even louder than before. “I want you to introduce yourselves to the new competitors. Let them know what happens around here, either you’re giving pleasure or you’re suffering pain. Today, they will learn about the pain. Tomorrow, they will learn about the pleasure.”
It sounded straightforward, but I was afraid of what it meant. The guard spoke as if his words contained hidden messages. As if every little syllable had a wrapped up double meaning, like each vocalization was poisoned with a threat.
“Please, enjoy your free time. It will be your last for the duration of your training,” the guard said as he turned off the mic and put it back in his pocket.
Everybody stood there in stunned silence, and I wasn’t about to be the first one to start moving so we all waited like statuary. Like museum pieces, cold and marble and watching.
Thackeray grew visibly irritated by this. He clapped his hands together and bellowed, “Move! Interact! Show these three who’s in charge among you competitors. Give them full instruction. Hurt them!”
It was as if he flipped a switch, because the columns of people on either side of us turned and looked in our direction. They did it all in unison, like they’d been rehearsing this move earlier, even though I knew they hadn’t.
It was unsettling, having that many sets of eyes on me while I was in my most vulnerable state. I was exhausted, filthy, and filled to the brim with grief and rage, both mixing around like two noxious chemicals swirling in the depths of my mind.
I squeezed Penny’s hand to reassure her when I felt her tremble, and I looked up at Ryker for my own assurance. He caught my eye and winked, squeezed my hand, and let it go.
He turned around a full 360 and looked at every one of them. The guys present were all tall and broad shouldered, but Ryker was the tallest of them all, and even though I was biased by the way I felt about him, his vibe was dominant and in control. It radiated off him in waves, the fact that he wasn’t one to be fucked with and he wasn’t going to fuck around with anybody who tried.
“So, who’s gonna show us what happens in this shit hole?” Ryker demanded in a cocky tone and stepped ahead of the rest of us. He turned back and looked around again. “Who’s really in charge here?”
The other people shuffled their feet and looked around, expecting one of their own to step up and claim leadership. Ryker’s expression was one of derision at their apparent weakness, and for just a moment, I thought we might be okay. I thought we might wind up being the top dogs, ready to throw down and claim our spot.
