Chapter 17:
Years Ago — Seven
The Story Of Who
The room was cold, freezing to the point where I could see my breath right before my eyes as it condensed into fog then dispersed. In. Out. In. Out. I focused on my breathing because if I focused on anything else, my eyes would hurt from holding back tears.
Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. I chanted with every breath, and it seemed to work.
I couldn't tell if the ship had started moving yet but I was already dying to get off it. I didn't have anything on other than the shirt and pants I had worn this morning. Now I wished I had put on something warmer. Anything at all.
I had compressed the XOry blanket and shoved it in my pocket before the guards had arrived to take me away. They didn't know that I had it because they hadn't searched me. I had been underestimated again.
That usually worked in my favor but this time it didn't make much of a difference. These soldiers were different from Matthew and Matthias, I couldn't break them with simple tricks, and as far I could see, I was the only one with a blanket in this room.
If I brought it out, there would be a bloodbath.
When there was little supply and high demand, people could kill each other for anything. My teacher taught me that and I had seen it before when I tried to feed hungry chicks at school.
I counted twelve children other than me. If a fight started, I would be on the losing side even if none of them knew how to fight. I wasn't stupid enough to try
Since I had woken up here, I hadn't talked to anyone. Even now that I had the energy to move, I still didn't want to talk to anyone. Being here was terrifying. It made me wonder what would happen to my family if I didn't behave. What would happen to Jethro? If I acted up, would they take me to replace him?
Three of my new roommates looked around Jethro's age. They sat in the lap of an older girl with hair as bright as an orange sun. She looked older than me, much older. She and my classmate Tammy could have been the same age. Tammy had been twelve when our school got bombed—she had been one of the early students that had gotten trapped inside when it happened.
Tammy had been a good student. My teacher loved her because she was smart in the way she solved puzzles and kind in the way she loved everyone she met.
The girl looked up and our eyes met. If I wanted, I could have sifted through her mind, but I didn't know if she would notice and I didn't know who to trust—if she could be trusted.
She smiled.
I smiled back.
"Still won't talk?" she asked with a small tilt of her head.
I only stared at her. My silence was the answer. If I couldn't know what was inside everyone's head, then I certainly couldn't risk falling asleep in a room full of people I didn't know.
The instant I could move, I had crawled as far away from the invisible door as I could. With my arms wrapped around my legs and my knees pressed close to my chest, I occupied the only free corner in the room.
Most of the children huddled together for warmth even though there was enough space for everyone to be on their own if they wanted. I couldn't bring myself to do something like that, not when I knew that I might never see my brother again.
"Leave her be, Maya," a boy in the corner opposite me said.
He might have been the girl's brother. They both had the same type of hair and nose. It made me wonder whether people thought I and Jethro looked alike. His hair was blonde and mine was so dark it was almost black. I didn't think our noses looked alike either.
"Bryan, she will freeze if she continues to stay there," Maya argued.
"If she wants to leave, she will," Bryan said and I wondered why he didn't seem cold. "Once the ship stops conserving power, the room will get warmer."
"What if she doesn't make it till then?" Maya looked at me with worry.
"Then the guards will carry her body out."
That seemed to be the end of the conversation because Maya closed her eyes and Bryan turned in his corner so that he wasn't facing me anymore.
The lights turned off next and what shocked me was that they seemed to know that it would. It made me wonder how long they had been here and how many more children would be pushed into this room without knowing what would happen to them.
How many days would it take for me to know when the lights would go off, without any warning? When will I have to be worried about whether the new kid's stubbornness would lead them to their death?
I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to think at all, and yet I couldn't bring myself to sleep.
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