Untamed

Chapter 5

chapter

five

Haven

Light drips across the room like a broken faucet, rousing us from our slumber. I flinch against the harsh, blinding flash. The clatter of boots on concrete echoes through the halls, crisp and rhythmic, pushing everyone to move faster than any alarm ever could.

I take a deep breath, the cold biting my lungs, and swing my legs over the ladder, bracing myself for the day ahead.

“Nervous?” Sora asks.

“Curious,” I correct. “I want to see what fresh hell they put us through.”

“You sound excited?” She groans. “Don’t tell me you are looking forward to this?”

I grin sheepishly. “Will you hate me if I say yes?”

“No, but I will judge you.”

Knox is pacing outside the dormitory, clipboard in hand, looking far too chipper for someone overseeing the first round of morning chaos.

“You are an instructor?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“When I feel like it.”

Knox turns back to the recruits and bellows.

“Move fast, and stay in line. You have five minutes to get ready.”

“Five minutes? That’s not enough time to detangle my hair,” I grumble.

“I heard that, Mercy,” Knox calls. “No smart comments. At least not until I’ve drunk my customary cup of coffee.”

Sora stares at me with a raised brow.

“You know Knox Fraser?” she whispers, as we make our way to the bathing chamber.

“Not really,” I say. “I just met him.”

“He’s best friends with Ender Vale,” she says.

I don’t react, and she elbows me.

“The Supreme Director’s son,” she explains. “He’s the Continent’s finest weapon. Gifted. Ruthless. Beautiful. He’s an Illusionist—the first of his kind. He can make you see what isn’t there, believe what isn’t true. He’s dangerous.”

I stiffen. So, that is what his power is.

I’m surprised he hid it and didn’t brag about it.

Most existing powers have been documented in the Registry, which is the regime’s official ledger, maintained in Division Three’s Archives.

Each power is categorized, and certain abilities are flagged as illegal if they pose a threat to public safety, the regime’s control, or the balance between the divisions.

Even the Bind is not an option for those who are Untamed. Only death.

“No wonder he’s so arrogant,” I murmur.

“He came to the Flatlands once. There was a food shortage, and people were upset; riots began shortly after,” she whispers.

“The enforcers tried to quell them, but it didn’t work.

Ender was sent in. By the time he left, no one knew what had happened.

The streets were quiet, and order was restored.

He twisted reality and made them believe that it is better to serve than to question. ”

A shiver runs down my spine as I wonder what kind of monster I left my sister with.

The mess hall is loud and chaotic by the time we arrive. Rows of steel tables are bolted to the floor, and steam hisses from the pipes that run along the ceiling like veins. The smell of boiled oats, stale coffee, and burnt bread hangs heavy in the air.

There’s a jarring divide between the sides.

The Gifted sit on the left, their black uniforms crisp and clean-cut.

Every fold and seam displays power and authority.

On the other side, the Commons are a mass of drab browns, their uniforms likely salvaged from dead soldiers.

We blend in with them, yet the cut and color of our fabric and the poor quality of our gear mark us as different.

It’s strange to witness the gap between the factions, especially since I’ve lived both lives. I grew up in Division Eight, surviving on meager rations and hole-ridden trousers. I’ve also lived in Division One, surrounded by servants and chefs, my belly full and my skin warm.

Sora finds us a seat at an empty table.

“I’ll be right back,” I say.

I cross the room towards Knox. He’s standing with another soldier. They are both wearing black tactical jackets, short at the waist, heavy at the shoulders, with an arm-patch on the sleeve that bears the regime’s emblem.

Most of the Commons naturally avert their eyes, but some study our interaction from the other side, eyes wide in horror as if I committed a grave crime.

“Can I speak with you?” I ask.

“You’re not allowed on this side, recruit,” the red-haired boy beside Knox admonishes.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. It seems that the lowly Commons aren’t allowed near the precious Gifted.

“It’s important, Knox,” I say, ignoring his friend.

“Come on, we’ll talk on your side,” Knox says.

He leads me by the elbow to where the Commons sit.

“You shouldn’t make an enemy of the Gifted,” Knox chides. “They will take it on themselves to remind you of your place.”

“I dare them to try,” I say.

Knox frowns at the venom in my tone. I suppose I didn’t sound like Mercy just then.

“I mean, my sister will fight them, like she fought my tormenters in grade school,” I correct. “That is why I wanted to speak to you. I’d like to know when I can see my sister. Maybe I can visit her after classes are done, or you can get the admin people to grant me access to call her?”

I reach for my messenger bag to show him my tablet, before his words bring me to a halt.

“I’d have to ask Ender for permission.”

“He’s not her keeper,” I say bitterly. “She can have visitors.”

“It is his house, and personal calls are not allowed on any cadet’s device in the Forge,” Knox says. “Look, he’ll probably be fine with it. I’ll ask him.”

I glance at his handheld radio, designed to communicate across any distance. Small and compact enough to carry around.

“Can I speak to her on that?”

“Yes, if Ender agrees,” he says.

I’m annoyed that I need to get his approval to speak to Mercy, but as long as I have a way to communicate with her, I’ll be fine.

“Thank you.”

I return to the chipped, wooden table Sora sits at, cradling the bowl I was handed at the serving line.

The gruel looks disgusting. A thick, lumpy stew with overboiled carrots sloshes against the rim, and a hunk of black bread sits beside it, dense enough to scrape the roof of my mouth if I’m not careful.

At least the coffee looks decent. It’s dark, bitter, and mercifully strong, just how I like it.

“Why were people acting so weird when I spoke to Knox?”

“They like to pretend we don’t exist,” she says with a shrug. “They receive the medals and recognition while we do the grunt work.”

I stare across the room at the other side, where a group of Gifted sits in a circle, sneering at me.

I guess they didn’t like me crossing the invisible line that separates us.

The courtyard is vast with lines marked for formation.

The new batch of recruits stands stiffly, backs straight, and eyes forward. My hands clench by my sides, the sleeve of my jacket hanging a little too long.

The Sergeant’s voice cuts through the crisp morning air. He’s a Common. It is clear from his plain, ill-fitting uniform and the absence of the color class that marks the Gifted ranks, along with the lack of a nameplate.

“Commons! Move!”

Sora gives me a reassuring smile before she dashes off into the distance. My legs pump as I take the lead. Nobody knows I was trained for years by the lieutenant. Sullivan put me through worse than anything these sergeants could attempt.

During a brief water break, Sora jogs over, sweat dripping down her brow.

“You’re keeping pace well,” she says. “But don’t get cocky.”

I grin. “Too late. How are you holding up?”

“Barely alive,” she mutters, eyes drifting toward the grass where a group of Gifted stands in a circle like vultures. They have their own training and combat fields. They shouldn’t be here.

I notice the same group from the mess hall who were glaring at me. They are speaking to our sergeant, and he turns away, heading towards the tower.

Where is he going? And why is he leaving us with them?

“Shit,” Sora echoes. She grabs my hand. “We have to leave.”

We duck behind a low wall at the edge of the field.

My heart hammers in my chest. I’ve never been one to hide from a fight; usually, my chin is high and proud, eyes burning with menace.

But I know when the odds are stacked against me.

And right now there are three of them and one of me.

They have powers, and I can’t reveal mine.

One moment, they are several paces away, and the next, they are in front of us. The boy in the middle has his palm on the shoulders of his friends. He must be a Transporter and is able to move across large distances in the blink of an eye.

“That’s her,” he sneers. “The one who broke the rules.”

Sora is trembling, and her grip on my wrist is painfully tight. I harden my face and straighten my spine. I won’t let them intimidate me.

“It was a mistake,” I say, hating the words that escape me. But I have to protect Sora. She kind of reminds me of my sister. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

“How do you know, Knox Fraser?” he asks.

“We’re together,” I blurt.

It is the first thought that crosses my mind. One that I hope will stop them in their tracks before they hurt us. Knox is close with Ender. I’m not sure of his position, but he definitely outranks them.

They exchange a disbelieving look.

“She’s lying,” the girl says, staring at me from under her nose. “Look at her. She’s a Common. Knox wouldn’t go for her.”

“No, I’m not lying,” I say hastily. “He’s going to feed you dirt if you mess with me.”

“Looks like the new recruit’s showing off,” the wheat-haired boy says to his companions. He seems to be the leader of this bunch. “Making up tall tales.”

The leader is a tower of muscle with sunbaked skin and short, cropped hair. Next to him is a tall, lanky boy with braided hair and dark skin. And then there’s the girl, who is lithe and muscular. Her raven hair cascades over her skin like the sea waves against a pale shore.

“Shall we see if she’s as good a fighter as she is a runner?” the girl asks.

She raises her fist and swings. My training kicks in. Years of Sullivan leading me through his various fighting sequences force me to sidestep her arm and shove her with my shoulder.

The girl stumbles, surprised, and Sora gasps as if I committed a grave sin.

She swung first, and I just retaliated.

“Do you know who I am?” the girl snarls. “My father is a governor. You will be executed for this!”

I tighten my lips. Her father reports to mine. Her words are not as impressive as she intends them to be. If I weren’t so embarrassed about being his daughter, and if it wouldn’t put a target on my back, I would mention it.

I grin, letting the faintest flash of teeth show. “I am not afraid.”

The girl lunges again. This time, I duck, roll to the side, and land behind her. Around us, the courtyard hums with other recruits running drills, unaware of this altercation. I wonder if they even realize that our sergeant was sent away by a bunch of entitled brats.

“Show her why she should fear us,” the blond menace says.

The girl raises her hand, and along with it, me. I curse in my head. She’s a Kinetic just like Warrick. Panic spikes through me. I don’t have my gun; Ender didn’t give it back, and I never got a chance to replace it from the armory.

A startled sound tears from Sora’s throat.

The air squeezes out of my lungs as my boots leave the ground. My spine locks with instinct, bracing myself for the fall, while my hands claw at nothing.

The girl’s fingers curl slowly, deliberately, holding my life in the palm of her hand. She smiles up at me, drunk on power. If she lets go of me, I’ll break every bone in my body, and she knows it.

“Commons aren’t supposed to look us in the eye,” she says. “They’re supposed to remember their place.”

Blood roars in my ears. I force myself to breathe. She wants me to be afraid. She wants me to plead for my life, but I won’t give her the satisfaction.

“Please,” Sora cries, stepping forward. “You have to stop!”

The leader tilts his head, amused.

“We won’t kill her,” the boy says. “The sergeant might notice.”

Sora sighs before he finishes.

“We’ll just break every bone in her body,” he adds maliciously.

Sora races off into the distance. I’m not upset that she left me behind. She hardly knows me, and it’s smart of her to save herself.

My feet dangle uselessly, toes scraping empty air.

She’s holding me in place, not raising me higher, which is a small satisfaction.

Not that this height is any less forgiving.

I wonder what Warrick will do when he finds out I was killed by a bunch of Gifted kids.

I wonder if he will even bother to avenge me, or rather, Mercy.

Maybe if it’s Mercy, he will make an effort.

Something sparks in the girl’s eyes…hesitation, maybe? She expects me to beg, but my lips are sealed.

“You don’t scare me,” I say hoarsely.

Her smile is razor-sharp like a wolf who has just smelled blood.

“You’re brave for a Common.”

Her hand drops, and gravity pulls me under. I reach for the place inside me. The one my Mother taught me to lock down and to guard like a vault. I’m not supposed to use my powers, not ever, but I refuse to die at the hands of these cruel Gifted.

I don’t fully stop time, but I slow it enough for me to fall carefully. I tuck my chin and let myself drop. The descent takes minutes rather than seconds. They won’t notice, since I’m the only one who is aware and in control of the time vacuum.

By the time my feet land with a light thud, I let time resume.

The sudden loss of resistance throws the girl off balance. She stares confusedly at her palm, uncertain about what happened. I wasn’t supposed to land so gracefully. I was meant to collapse in a heap of broken bones and anguish.

The girl’s eyes widen. “What—”

I take a step forward to punch her in the throat when I hear the thud of footsteps. Sora returns with the sergeant, who is putting out his cigarette. I let out a sigh. She came back for me, which is surprising, because she owes me nothing.

The Transporter grips his friend’s shoulder, prepared to leave. The girl hesitates, eyes burning in rage.

“This isn’t over,” she warns.

Then they’re all gone.

I sway, adrenaline crashing through me. Sora catches my arm.

“Are you okay?” she whispers.

“Yes,” I say. “Thank you. For coming back for me.”

“It was nothing.” Sora shrugs. “You’d do the same for me. Do you think they’ll return?”

I stare at the space where the Gifted stood, my pulse still racing.

“Yes.”

I’ve made myself visible. And in the Forge, that’s the most dangerous thing a Common can do.