Chapter 3
Walking down to the mission sector, the heels click against the concrete floors, echoing through the corridors. Brylee, our stylist, is waiting for me.
Brylee is the person who does all our hair and makeup for formal mission attire.
She’s the only name I know inside this building, and I’m the only one who knows it. She made me swear to secrecy. Everyone else just sits in her chair and says nothing; she doesn’t even have an assigned name.
Brylee doesn’t care for The Academy like the rest of them do. Honestly, sometimes I question if she’s maybe a little crazy, but in a good way…I think?
Like always, Brylee is waiting by her chair. Her curly hair is pinned back into a bun with coils of her hair that have sprung free.
Before the war, she used to have something called braids, but I never quite understood what they were, and she never had enough time to explain them to me. But I know they weren’t like our French braids we get for missions.
Brylee’s brown skin, like Bella’s, has always been something I envied; most of the girls down here are so pale from the lack of sunlight that we look ghastly, but she never does. It’s quite beautiful, really.
“All ready?” Brylee asks, her face falling as I walk through the door and sit in her chair.
“Mhmm,” I hum, careful not to look like I’m talking before I turn my back to the guards and whisper, “this one is weird, though.”
Brylee doesn’t respond immediately, probably afraid the guards are listening from behind us. Instead, she clips the cape around my neck and begins styling my hair.
There are two standard hairstyles. Formal, which is a smoothed back ponytail made to look fuller and bushier through brushing the hair up with a comb and hairspray.
And normal mission attire, which is a single braid down the middle of the hair or two braids on either side.
For some reason, we’re allowed that one choice.
“Formal?” Brylee asks, and I nod, picking up the book on the side table. “You know the rules, PX-3. No reading what is not assigned.”
The guards lining the room behind us look over at me, their reflections in the small mirror in front of me giving away their sudden interest, as if expecting me to rebel.
I don’t take the bait.
“Then why is it there?”
Brylee sighs, not offering a lie like the other leaders would. Instead, she grabs the book from my hands and places it out of my reach on a table to her right. The guards seem to relax behind us.
But I know they’re watching, listening. Even if they pretend to be disinterested.
They always are.
“Decoration, I think. If you’re feeling brave, you could always ask the Madam or Major.” I won’t. I’m not an idiot, and asking a question like that is guaranteed to get me at least three days in the chair.
I wish I could read a book, just one. With a real story, like the stories Bella tells us about.
I took pity on Bella in the beginning; she was so shy all the time, so cautious not to talk to anyone. Even when I tried, Bella would never talk. Eventually, we managed to get a whisper from her, and now we can’t keep her quiet if it’s safe to talk.
When Bella first joined, everyone was shocked to see anyone joining this late, considering the rest of us had been here for at least a few years.
And then, when Bella had finally settled in, her assigned partner died on a mission; her first mission. Since then, they have always kept her as a spare, in case someone else’s partner dies on a mission, so they can re-group them together.
Though she usually just ends up with Kylie, another spare.
Once, Bella told us a story about when Zones didn’t exist. How everyone lived amongst each other in real houses, not just assigned housing in the apartments. The structure of the world before.
The world I don’t remember.
But she hasn’t spoken about that again since then, no matter how much I begged for her to. Instead, she told other stories, stories of something called relationships. Where two people meet, and the timing is just right, and they fall in love.
I doubt I’ll ever experience love. I’m not sure that’s an emotion I’m capable of.
Loving a person seems as pointless as letting traitors live. Why would anyone give someone the power to betray them like that?
But the stories of the beaches caught me the most. Of course, we learned about them in our training; they have a delicate surface called sand, and it is where the ocean meets the land, but I have never seen one myself.
At least that I can remember.
“Alright, hair is done. Time for face, you know the drill by now.” Brylee’s voice pulls me back, reminding me where I am.
I close my eyes as she begins to do my makeup. It doesn’t take much longer before Brylee finishes the look, adding mascara and false lashes. It’s simple but still noticeable, just how Madam likes it.
The sinking feeling in my stomach comes back for the first time in years, which is apparently more obvious than what I would have liked. Brylee sighs and looks around the room to make sure we are alone before speaking, the guards now gone from behind us.
“Darlia, if anyone can come back from a mission, it’s you. Don’t let your mind cloud your judgement. You’re smart. You know better than to question the judgement of the Overseer, it will get you killed.”
Brylee’s careful to make it look like she is continuing my makeup, her brush stoking against my cheek while she talks. Just in case someone is watching.
Someone is always watching.
“This is different, I’ve never been on a mission with no information. Something is off about this.” She sighs again, taking the brush from my face. We both watch as a guard walks over, effectively ending the conversation.
“PX-3 you have been summoned,” a deep voice commands behind the guard’s mask.
Rolling my eyes, I thank Brylee with a nod before walking with the guard back to Madam’s office. By the time we get to the office, everyone is waiting for me.
“Finally, are you ready?” Madam asks, throwing her hands up like I’ve done something wrong as I walk through the doors.
Madam’s eyes trail up and down my body, making sure I am to her standard. Only once she’s satisfied does the tension in the room ease slightly.
Lauren is waiting in a chair in front of the desk, quickly standing up when she sees me. Lauren doesn’t even look at me as she stands beside me and prepares to leave, as if she’s been waiting for me to arrive.
“Right, your mission is to observe Target 106. You won’t be able to kill him tonight, and we do not want you to compromise this mission. That is an order, do not engage this target.”
What the fuck?
Every mission has had the same objective: kill. What makes this guy so special?
I nod anyway, walking out of the office and towards the lift where Commander Wolvrin is waiting, standing at the door to the lift in his normal commander uniform, which tells me he’s not expected to enter this ball.
We’re always on our own, the Commander never comes on the missions with us. But for some reason, the thought today unnerves me. I was right, though; this isn’t a normal mission, not when I cannot even kill the person threatening our safety, our citizens safety.
“PX-3 and PX-28, let’s go,” Wolvrin says sternly, his face showing no emotions.
He’s back to his normal uptight routine. It’s the same for everyone; pretend in front of the Madam and the Overseer, but when we are alone, we can let our guards down.
The Commander never has to the same extent as the girls, but I can tell he cares about us, even if he doesn’t show it often.
The lift begins with a creak, shaking to life as it moves up to the ground floor.
The Commander grabs my arm the second the lift gates open, pulling me towards the SUV that’s waiting and ushers us inside. Lining the gravel driveway is the set of SUVs specially made just for The Academy.
Only after I’ve stumbled in Wolvrin’s grip does he lift me into the car, practically throwing me down into the chair and giving me a glare that tells me he’s not impressed with me.
“You understand your mission?” He asks, looking to me for an answer, but I’m too busy looking out the window to see the sunset.
The sky is a beautiful mix of pink and orange that makes everything look golden.
“PX-3.” The Commander raises his voice in an attempt to get my attention, and I roll my eyes before looking at him.
Yeah, I understand. I am to watch someone with no information on who they are, because that’s classified. Yet I’m supposed to know this man’s weak points, where to push him into breaking.
Or at least, that’s what I wanted to say. Instead I nod and say, “Yes, Commander.”
Wolvrin looks to Lauren, knowing there is no use trying to talk to me. “Make sure she doesn’t try anything. We can’t afford another mistake, not like last time.”
I roll my eyes again, this time making sure he can see me. “I’m serious, Darlia, I can’t afford to cover for you again.”
“You’re not supposed to call me that here.”
“So, you prefer being called a number?” I glare at him, wondering how easily I could stick my knife into his throat, or maybe how long it would take for him to drown. I have always wanted to take a life that way.
“We will arrive in seven minutes. Prepare yourself; this will be unlike anything you have experienced before. This is an event for the elite of the city.”
The elite.
We are not permitted to know about the elite. I don’t even think Madam knows about them. They are powerful, maybe more powerful than The Academy. They fund the city alongside the government, using their wealth to help the common citizens and to keep the protection of The Academy when they need it.
The SUV comes to a stop, and the door slides open automatically.
“We’re here. Do not mess this up, Darlia.” I nod, stepping out of the car and walking onto the steps with Lauren. I don’t respond. If I did, I’m not going to say what Wolvrin wants me to say, and apparently I’m already not on his good side.
I’m not familiar with where we’ve been dropped, but I can’t say I mind.