7
SCOTTY
I was a little wary of Alby at first, as I am when anyone new is around my brother, but he’s proved to me he means absolutely no harm.
Not that I really expected him to with how timid and quiet he was—and still is—when we first met him, but I’d worried there’d be some silent judgment or dislike with how Tiger is so uninhibited compared to himself.
As it is, I could almost describe the shy boy as enamoured any time he’s with my brother, as if he’s never met someone so filled with light.
And he probably hasn’t—there’s never been many people like Tiger.
My brother and I have always been close, and we only grew closer over the years as we were forced to become weapons together at our first Evot Training School.
But considering he’s the same age as Alby, I was three years ahead of him in school, and it wasn’t pretty when I was first carted off to EvTS, leaving him behind to deal with shitheads like Troy Hurst all alone.
It wasn’t until I was fourteen and he eleven that we were properly reunited again after limited visits for three years.
From that moment onwards, I taught him everything I knew to ensure he could protect himself, despite instructors already starting his training.
I wanted him to be ahead of the others in his year, to discourage anyone from ever thinking that someone with ADHD couldn’t do what those they consider normal could; I wanted him to be physically strong so he’d be able to beat some sense into those who did, those who made him feel like an anomaly.
Two years later, and I was off to third school, but this time, I left Tiger capable of protecting himself, and people thought twice before ever mocking him for his differences again.
Another three years, and nineteen-year-old me met my brother again at Evot Training School 308, where we’ve since been glued at the hip. Now we work together as if we share one brain when we fight, both when sparring against one another and as a joined force to destroy our opponents.
So, admittedly, I was a tad reluctant to up our duo to a trio. Though not because of any jealousy or anything . . .
But Alby is a good man, and I know Tiger enjoys his company as much as Alby does his. They both need more friends, with Alby seemingly finding his first true one in my brother, and Tiger finding a second best friend in him, one who’s not there by default.
Totally not jealous.
Not. At. All.
My eyes track their movements as they roll across the large sparring mat on the floor in front of me.
“Yes! Spin me around, Dracula! Whoooooo!”
Alby bursts into uncontrolled laughter at Tiger’s antics, and I can’t stop my own lips from twitching upwards as I shake my head.
Our new addition has grown a little more confident over the past few days we’ve been eating and training together, and despite the little green monster that sometimes pops up when I watch his interactions with my brother, it also softens me a little.
He seems naturally shy, but at least with us it’s not the I-want-to-dig-a-hole-in-the-ground-and-hide-in-there-forevermore kind anymore.
And he’s laughing more and more, no longer avoiding eye contact as much as possible, and even making conversation with me.
I realise I’m not as approachable as my brother, but I’m doing my best to make him feel welcome, and I think I’m doing a good enough job.
Stepping forwards, I grab onto Alby’s bicep with one hand and Tiger’s larger one with the other, hauling them both up to their feet with an, “Okay, up you get. Game 1 is only the day after tomorrow, and you”—I pin my stare on the former—“need to practice more on your Avri tribike.”
Colour creeps up into his cheeks. Though I guess I should say more colour as he appears permanently flushed.
I exhale a heavy sigh. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Alby, but you do need more practice—that’s a fact we can’t ignore.
We’ve managed to improve your use of Avri weapons to the point I think your Score could make it into the 60s, but your use of the vehicles still holds you back.
And with the first Game, the tribikes are used most, if not all, of the time. ”
His throat works, but he raises his chin. “I understand. I want to get better. Not just so I can survive, but . . . I’d like to help you, too. I want to be an asset rather than a liability.”
My expression softens. He’s like Tiger in the way he’s impossible to hate . . . unless you’re someone allergic to all things good. “You are an asset. And if any of us wobble during the Games, we’ll all be there to aid each other.”
“Exactly! Come on, let’s put on our alien heads!”
Obeying Tiger, I go and grab my helmet from beside the sparring mat, fixing it over my head and snapping the visor down, where it automatically locks itself.
I catch my brother and Alby doing the same before we walk across the room and to the door labelled GROUND TRAINING, which is parallel to the wall on the left side of the main area in the Training Centre that has a copy of this door embedded in it but with the words AIR TRAINING decorating it instead.
We haven’t used the latter yet, but we’ve had a look inside, so I know it’s about the same size as the former, each expanse taking up almost an entire half of the arm that makes up the horizontal top of the ‘T’ the main Headquarters building is shaped as.
It’s extremely minimalistic and is quite literally a gargantuan box of glossy black taalk, designed so simply because all we need to practice on our Avri tribikes is space.
Lots and lots of space.
There’s quite a few Evots already in here, I note as we enter the Ground Training room; a handful of varying shades of green-glowing tribikes whizz around at top speed, only the rushing of air and smooth vroom accompanying each one’s movements, no violent rumble of an engine like non-Avri motorcycles from over a thousand years ago.
“Right. Tiger, you’re up. Alby, watch closely.”
My brother doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told, grinning widely as he takes off in a sprint, the Avri pads on the bottom of his boots flashing with each large leap.
Then he launches himself three feet into the air.
Hundreds of translucent dark green Avri pixels eject from the pads, forming the foot pegs, then the back wheel, the seat, the body, the front two wheels in the vertical row of three, the handlebars, the pointed nose .
. . It all happens in under a second. Then the tribike is landing with a thump on the taalk floor, and Tiger races away in a luminous blur.
Alby’s gulp is audible, and I shift my focus over to him as he shakes his head and takes an unsteady step back. “I can’t. I-I’m sorry, I—I can’t . . .”
“You can,” I counter firmly but not harshly. “From what you showed me the other day, it’s more that you believe you can’t, and that’s what’s causing you to fail.”
“That’s like telling me to believe in magic.”
A quiet snort leaves me. “That’s not the same at all, and you know it.
” I point at one of the Avri tribikes as a man with whitish hair—I think his name is Dex—zips by, leaving a cool breeze in his wake.
“That’s not magic; it’s science. It’s real, and it obeys you.
It likes to be commanded, to be told what to do.
I know you’ve been taught this at Evot Training School. ”
“I have, I just . . . You’re right—I don’t believe I can do it. I’ve always been told I can’t, so it’s kind of hard to think otherwise now.”
Teeth grinding, my eyes spear daggers into Aider and Troy as I catch them on their tribikes across the room.
I’d really like to kill them both. Truly.
With them, it’s the only time I would actually choose violence rather than use it out of necessity.
They’ve hurt both Alby and Tiger, two of the purest souls around, and both of whom are mine to take care of.
And every time I see either of those sick pricks, I just want to wrap my hands around their throats and shake them about like ragdolls.
“I get that,” I grit out, trying to keep my anger at bay so Alby doesn’t think it’s directed at him.
“But as shitty as it sounds, you have to ignore that. There’s no other way.
The first game is in forty-eight hours, and you have to be able to manifest your tribike—and safely.
” Pausing, I mull over my next words, before continuing, “We’re not leaving you behind out there; we’re doing this together.
Remember, you are an asset.” I dig my stare into his to make sure he understands the importance of my next point.
“But not if you’re not on your tribike. We need you on that bike. Tiger needs you on that bike.”
That seems to do it.
He sucks in a sharp breath, spine straightening. “Okay . . . okay, yeah. You . . . need me there?” His hazel eyes flick to mine before darting away. But not before I catch the hint of insecurity in them, the need for reassurance.
“Yes, Alby. We need you there. You’re with us now, and you’ll stay with us,” I say softer. “We can’t do this without you.”
Roaming his gaze over the never-ending space before us, the numerous shades of green from the other Players illuminating the lustrous onyx ground, he nods steadily. “I’ll do it.”
***
“I’m sorry.”
Alby’s voice is strained, and I can see he’s fighting off tears from either frustration or embarrassment, maybe both. We’ve been at it for almost half an hour, and he’s not managed more than forming two wheels, the seat, and the foot pegs.
And sprawling flat on his front.
If it weren’t for his impenetrable visor, he’d probably be sporting a broken nose along with the flush crowding his entire face.
“Don’t be. You’ve already manifested half the bike—that’s more than you could do a couple days ago.”
“I swear I’ve been able to manifest the entire thing before.”
“And you’ll be able to do it again,” I say without a doubt in my tone.
“You’re right . . .” His words trail off when we catch sight of Tiger in the distance . . . and the two malevolent figures gaining on him.
I snap my head back around to face Alby, ready to tell him to wait here while I go murder those vile motherfuckers—
Only to see him already in action, body high in the air and his entire lime-coloured Avri tribike forming beneath him.
His wheels come down on the taalk with a firm thud, and he’s off, streaking in Tiger’s direction.
Well, fuck me. He’s fucking done it.
If that doesn’t prove how genuine his care is for my brother . . .
In a flash, I command my own Avri into shape, racing after the new member of our little family to go and defend the sunshine in it.