I swallowed my fear of enclosed places and violent surprises, hesitantly entering the building. It was unexpectedly sanitary and orderly compared to the ramshackle exterior. Boys and girls from preteen to early teens worked at monitoring equipment, exercising, cleaning, or going about various other tasks. Everyone wore comfortable jumpsuits and looked clean and healthy.
"Frankie, get the street rat checked in."
A dark-haired boy saluted before motioning for me to join him at a table. "Hey, I'm Franklin Newman. What's your name, kid?"
I shrugged.
"You don't know your name?"
I didn't bother answering, having learned long ago that the less said, the better. Frankie sighed and picked up a cylindrical tool from the desk.
"Lemme see your finger."
He placed the end of the tool on my finger. I jumped back when it jabbed my skin with a needle. He ignored me, looking at the reading on display.
"Let's see. You're registered as Michael Trudo. Twelve years old. Parents deceased. Genetic analysis marks you as excellent for the program. Physical readout is exceptional. Psychological profile suggests possible sociopathic tendencies. Potential skills include mathematics, analytics, and language skills. Guess you'll fit right in if you can prove yourself."
"How?"
"Everything here is earned. Including your meals." He pointed to a line of kids who looked nearly as shabby as me. "Get in line. There are thirteen kids. Twelve seats at the table. Gotta fight for your place or go hungry. Got it?"
"Yeah."
"Good luck, then. Word of advice: don't mess with Bernard. He already broke some kid's skull last week. Let him go first, then pick on someone your own size."
"Yeah, okay."
I scanned the other kids in line as I approached. The biggest and oldest was a hulking boy with a shaved head and a face full of acne. I figured he had to be Bernard. The rest of the kids stood bunched together, cowering away every time he fixed them with a brutal stare.
"That's the one we need to take out."
I looked at the girl who spoke. She looked maybe a couple of years older than me. Blond, slim, but athletic. Tough. She stared at Bernard, eyes calculating. "I'm Natalie. We should be friends, Mike. Everyone needs a friend."
"How do you know my name?"
"I was listening. They reward us for listening. You gonna help me or what?"
I smirked. "Help you what? Get killed? You can't do anything against him."
"Not solo. But me and you can."
I gave her a second look. She was serious. I hesitated, feeling uneasy. I never worked with anyone before. From everything I'd seen on the streets, no one could be trusted. I was better off by myself.
"What's the point?"
"Whoever takes him down gets the best of everything. No one will bother to challenge us. We take charge, get fast-tracked to leadership and move on. Maybe qualify for Agent in a few years. Get out of here and get assigned to the Haven, Mike."
"What Haven?"
She stared at me for a second in disbelief. "You ever been out of the city?"
"No."
"Do you even know what's out there?"
"No."
"Never mind, then. The Haven is way better than here. That's all you need to know."
I shrugged. "Fine. What's the plan?"
The dining room doors opened. Bernard strode through first, taking his time. He knew no one would bother to come in until he chose his spot.
"Follow my lead." Natalie darted inside after Bernard. Against my instincts, I followed.
She hit him at full speed, throwing her body into the back of his legs. He bellowed and stumbled, making it easy for me to clothesline him with my forearm. We hit the floor in a tumble of flailing limbs. I snarled, feeling the animalistic rage flare up. I was in my element. Fighting for survival. It was no different than being on the streets. I leaped on Bernard's shoulders and sank my teeth into his thick neck.
He pushed himself up as if my weight were nothing. "Ow! What the hell is wrong with you? Get the hell off of—"
His voice gurgled with Natalie slammed a boot into his groin. Doubling over, he fell to his knees. Natalie's eyes were slits, her teeth clenched. She raked her fingers across his face, drawing blood. He shrieked and swung a blind fist. It connected with her jaw with a crunching sound. A bloody tooth flew from her mouth; her eyes rolled back as she fell.
Bernard reached behind and snatched me from his back, slamming me into the floor so hard my vision blurred. I rolled away, avoiding a heavy stomp. From the corner of my eye, I saw Natalie crawling toward the table. I had to buy her some time.
Bernard roared like an angry bear, arms upraised and legs shuffling. He seized me by the collar and yanked. I used the momentum to headbutt him in the face. He stumbled back, clutching his broken nose. I followed up by boxing his ears with all my strength. He refused to fall, staggering forward to wrap his beefy hands around my throat. I gagged, flailing helplessly in his grip.
Natalie slammed the corner of a metal tray into Bernard's temple. He blinked twice, staring at me in a daze. Natalie struck again, dropping him like a stone. She shrieked and walloped him again, opening a bloody gash across his face. I seized her arm before she could hit him again. She turned to me with murder in her eyes. I knew she didn't see me at that moment. She only saw an enemy. Someone she needed to hurt.
"Natalie. It's me. Calm down. You're gonna kill him."
She stared for a moment, hair askew across her face. Finally, she let the bloodied tray hit the ground and tottered over to the dining table. She sat, picked up her fork and lifted a piece of steak to her mouth, wincing in pain as she chewed.
I sat next to her, my bruised neck and sore back throbbing once the adrenaline subsided. The other children hesitantly entered, staring at the fallen giant. They took places at the table, giving us reverent looks. Natalie was right. We weren't going to be bothered by anyone. Everything was ours for the taking.
"How's your jaw?"
She touched it gingerly. "Hurts. No big deal. My old man hit way harder."
"Your dad hit you?"
"When he could catch me. That and… other things. He gave me away for drugs. But I escaped. I ran away and never looked back."
Her expression darkened. I knew that she had survived something unspeakable, a tragedy that made my time in the streets seem pale in comparison. My experiences forced me to be as cold as the world around me, but Natalie was fire and rage. She wasn't content to endure. She wanted payback for every moment of suffering.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'm gonna kill him when I get the chance." The statement seemed to cheer her up, and she finished her meal in good spirits.
That night Bernard went to the infirmary, and we went to the novice quarters. We chose the bunks we wanted, in the corner where we could see everyone else. Natalie took the top bunk. Jumpsuits were in lockers, separate bathrooms stationed on either side of the room with clean showers, toilets, and hygienic supplies. It was a paradise compared to sleeping in a dirty nook in an alley.
I took an ointment from the First Aid cabinet and rubbed it on Natalie's jaw. She stared straight ahead, trying not to wince. I was caught in the moment, realizing I'd never touched someone with a gentle hand before. It felt good. Natalie even smiled at me when I finished.
That night I heard her whimpering in her sleep as she tossed and turned on the mattress. I wanted to go to her, but something told me she wouldn't want me to see her like that. I kept a vigil in silence, listening to the sounds of her nightmares devouring her. After a few long hours, she finally went quiet. I didn't sleep at all that night. I wasn't used to being so exposed, where anyone could attempt to attack or abduct me. I waited for the assault long into the night, but it never came. It wasn't until dawn that I finally drifted off.