Chapter 7

I offer a non-committal grunt at Lip boy sitting across from me, a clear sign that I'd rather focus on my food. He doesn't take the hint and keeps on talking anyway. I know too much about his life, but none of the details are worth remembering. In the end, he concludes that emotions are to be played with and people to be used.

Talking drains my social batteries, so I quickly scarf down the food before leaving. Esper gets the hint, and we walk back together. She crashes onto the bed and is knocked out cold in seconds. Diving into my hard mattress, I tell myself to do the same. I see Sierra's face materializing on the ceiling, laughing with her new family. It won't be long before the surrogates show their true selves. It's not just them, though. If strangers are taking care of Sierra, it'll take a lot for me to trust them completely.

Esper's light snoring fills the room. I toss and turn, craning my neck to check the time every few minutes until I can't stand it anymore. Ripping the covers from my head, I throw on a light sweater and head outside. Seth said to meet him, so I kept my sights on the bare strip of land near the Sanctuary's edges. It's the least fertile region, so almost nothing grows except some hardy weeds.

At night, the air here is crisper than where we came from, and I wonder if it's because of the glowing aura. Tonight, it looks like a shimmering mixture of turquoise, blue, and purple hues, like the Northern lights. No one has seen the natural phenomenon in years, so this is the closest we have to that. Now, the winds are sparse but smarting against my skin. I listen for the waves crashing against the docks, only to hear the barest trickle of water lapping at the rocks. The river is docile tonight, unlike the raging snowstorm outside.

The nuclear winter wasn't supposed to last for years. At the most, it'd last a few weeks and clear up after that, but the predictions were wrong. Everything is wrong.

Behind me, the leaves crunch, and the twigs snap. I whirl around, clenching my fists and readying myself. "Don't swing. It's just me." Seth emerges from the foliage seconds later with a leaf still stuck in his hair. The boy makes a weak attempt at a smile, but that quickly falls as he approaches me. Handing me a card, he looks away sheepishly, and a blush slowly forms on his pale cheeks. "I think this is yours."

I hold the card up to the light, staring at the only thing that holds Father's picture. The man in the photo has his lips drawn in a taut line. His gaze is fixed on someone behind the camera.

Christopher Leonhart.

Researcher for Proxy.

"I thought I lost this for good," I grip the card so tightly that the plastic digs into my palm. Scratching the back of his neck, Seth finally looks up and nods sadly. I can't always check my drawings, so I carry this around, so I won't forget what Father looks like. Tears burn my eyes, but I pinch the hem of my shirt and hold it in. "Where did you find it?"

Seth hangs his head lower. "I saw it in your pocket when I first met you, and I knew that researchers have the highest card clearance. If I tweaked the electronic signature and reactivated it, I could access almost anything I wanted. So, I went to see my sister in the incubator room at the Gene Bank. My parents smuggled her into the Sanctuary because they thought she could have a better life. She'd never have to go through the Institution or the Trials like us," he rasps.

"Wait. Why are you telling me this?"

"Proxy already knows about what my parents did, Aria. I've got nothing else to lose." He says dryly. From his gaze, I can feel him assessing me, trying to make sense of me. "You were right. I didn't understand how you felt when Proxy said they'd save the false immunes, and I never will."

An awkward silence settles between us, and I start picking at my fingernails until I can't stall anymore. "You can keep the card for a while."

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not about that, but I'm sure your sister would like it if you were there until the end."

Seth doesn't say anything, so I make the first move to leave. He follows soon after but keeps his distance while we walk back. He must've slipped away at some point, and I didn't notice until I stood outside our dormitories. Cringing at the noises of the floorboards, I make it upstairs on my tiptoes.

While Esper stirs, I sink beneath the covers and pull them over my head. Father's card is still in my hand. Clutching it to my chest, I drift off to sleep. The nightmares come back full force like a broken recorder stuck in my head. Tonight, all I get is a mangled hand reaching for me. It curls its wiry fingers around me and quickly stretches into thorny tendrils around my throat. Cold sweat drips down my forehead, and I'm vaguely aware of the dampness of my pillow. My back is soaked, and my skin feels slick.

Since my parents died, I've been getting these dreams almost every night. The beast feeds off my paranoia. Everything could be taken away from me in less than a second. This time, another hand reaches for me. It looks like a normal human hand reaching for me. I expect it to pull me up, but it remains outstretched, its palm facing upwards.

Can I trust it?

Maybe not. But I take a chance anyway and place my hand in its grasp. "Wake up, Aria. It's just a dream." That voice is familiar. Somehow, the realization makes the first beast release its hold on me, retreating into the darkness until I'm alone with my thoughts again. The voice comes out of nowhere, and someone's finger brushes against my forehead. I crack my eyes open, squinting at the sunlight impaling the windows. Sure enough, Jax stands at the edge of my bed with Esper behind him.

"I panicked when I saw you like that." Esper bites her lip and looks away. "Your friends were outside, and they heard everything. I mean, you were screaming, so I sneaked them in here. Aria, I'm sorry, but you couldn't hear me, and I didn't know how else to help."

I raise an eyebrow at her before glancing at the door. Seth is there too, but he doesn't say a word. Grabbing a fresh set of clothes, I mutter some excuse about taking a shower before slamming the bathroom door behind me. I crank up the heat. Hot steam mists the glass cubicle, shielding my tear-streaked face and blocking my weaknesses from the world.

Once I'm done, Esper gives me a wane smile as I comb my tangled strands, getting ready to head for training. Jax and Seth join us on the way there, offering some breakfast they stole from the cafeteria. "Those nightmares are back?" Jax asks, his lips ghosting my ear. My throat tightens, and I nod while grabbing the coffee that Seth got for me. He's back to his grumpy self again, so I've got a feeling that he didn't want to roll out of bed. Or maybe, Seth always wakes up on the wrong side of the bed now.

Following the stream of people, we file inside, where Xavier waits for us. Cleo and a few scientists are stationed off the side, watching and recording anything they observe. "I guess they're finally getting rid of that dumb law," Jax says, though he doesn't seem entirely convinced. I stare at the fighting ring ahead, the weapons splayed behind for all to behold.

"About time, anyway. I was itching to punch some stuff for a while now."

Jax lets out a throaty chuckle, his eyes shining with humor. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

I shrug and turn away to hide the heat that crawls up my cheeks.

A year after the war, the Proxy government decided to pass the Peace Act. This means that all violence is prohibited. Besides the Sentinels and law enforcement agents, it's illegal for others to learn how to fight. It's supposed to promote harmony, but I doubt that did any good for us. I should've expected that when anyone claims they can run the country.

Xavier gestures to the front area, where the others pull safety mats around a fighting ring. "Your ability assessment starts now. Remember that the enhancements and suppressants will only be effective for this fight."

Murmurs and gasps swirl around the crowd, but Xavier claps his hands and directs his attention to the ring. "This is the test of strength. Now, I'll start activating the enhancements." Xavier glides his finger over his electronic pad. A warm feeling surges through my veins, igniting my nerve endings. I hear it all—heartbeats, the insects scurrying through the walls, and the sizzling of electricity coursing through the wires. Rocking back and forth, I tilt my head to listen to everyone's palpitating hearts. Mine beats the loudest and fastest, but the others aren't that far off. There's a slight ringing from outside; I'm sure it's the kind that only animals can hear.

An odor lingers, smelling like years of sweat and grime. Focusing on the mat, I notice the faint splotch of crimson on the white surface. It's not as pristine as I'd once thought. The thought makes me shiver, but I stiffen almost instantly. If I can sense their fear, so can they.

Those who've been suppressed are either sitting down or swaying on their feet. Unsteady, vulnerable, and weak. I shake these thoughts away. They wrap their hands with a bandage, gritting their teeth like this will be the fight of their lives. Dipping their hands into a bowl of powder, they stare ahead again, none of them daring to spare us a glance.

"Kenzo Takahashi and Preston Reynolds."

Xavier launches into a brief description of the first pair as they take to the stage. Kenzo, who is the enhanced, works as a miner. I can tell from the blank ink that peeks through his shirt sleeves. It's a pickaxe, one of the things that miners pride themselves in. Preston stands opposite him. From his white suit, it's obvious that he's the son of a governor. I don't think he's even plucked weeds in his life.

Kenzo lands a kick to Preston's side at the starting whistle, sending him flying to the ring's edges. I wring my hands and watch as Kenzo's eyes turn to a gold color. He slams his body against the other boy's ribs. A sickening crack echoes through the room. Raining punches on Preston's face, Kenzo doesn't stop until the boy is a broken mess. His victim's nose is bent at an awkward angle. Preston makes no effort to fight back, though it looks like he wouldn't have the strength to even if he tried. That instant win couldn't be any less fair.

The miner doesn't know how to fight. Though he lands punches, they're a work of brute force and not technique. Jax seems to know it too. We share a knowing smile, but I'm careful not to appear overconfident. There's no way we're getting caught here, so I'll have to act weaker than I am. Healers carry Preston away on a stretcher, pressing their hands against his wounds. The miner steps off the stage, and he dusts off his hands like all that is nothing.

"Aria Leonhart and Briana Cox," Xavier says.

Pulling up the ropes at the side, I walk inside the ring with a girl twice my size. Her eyelids are heavy, and I'm guessing that's because of the suppressants. Her arms fall limply at her sides, and she squints to focus on my face. I concentrate on her stuttering heartbeats, one of the Suppressant's side effects.

The light above goes green. A brief second of realization darts across her face, and she lunges toward me. I duck and slide beneath her, tripping her while she faceplants the ground. Frowning, she stares at the small splatter of saliva and spits out a tooth. Pushing herself upwards, she curses and barrels into me—her punch ripples through my stomach. Bile burns my throat. With every breath, my lungs feel like they're ripping apart, and the air claws against my throat. As the roar of anticipation builds in my muscles, I roll away while she swings at my jaw.

Her fist collides with the mat instead. I scramble into a corner behind her, hating every eye on me. With all of them watching, I can't do much without giving myself away. Letting myself go slack against the ropes around the ring, I whimper when she approaches with a smirk on her lips. I could let myself get beaten up, but I'm tired of holding back. Even if I don't use my full strength, the others here shouldn't see me as weak.

I smell her rotten breath on my face. It attacks my nostrils and kills my senses, but I plant my fist beneath her chin in an uppercut. Before she goes down, I flip her over and twist her arm behind her back until it can't go further. She cries out, straining against my grip until she goes limp. Suddenly, she bursts out of my hold and nearly lands a blow to my head. With a kick to her stomach, she collapses into a panting heap. I'm still not letting go until Xavier taps my arm. He signals for me to leave and shows me to my seat. Kenzo scoots away, scoffing while I limp my way there.

I feel Xavier's gaze boring holes through the side of my face, but I'm not prepared for the growing warmth next to me. His hand grazes my arm. The touch is as warm as a human's, carrying a light jolt of static electricity. I flinch, and he lets his hand drop to his side. All conversations fizzle out in the space around us, replaced by whispers and soft giggles. "Aria, we need to talk later. Be completely honest, do you understand?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before turning on his heel. For the rest of the matches, I watch the flurry of kicks and punches. Some girls resort to petty catfights. I watch the ticking clock, counting the minutes until lunchtime rolls around. Also, I can tell that Jax and Seth are doing the same. They observe everything while fidgeting restlessly. Jax shakes his leg, a nervous habit that acts up before every match, including ours.

At the Sanctuary, he and I would meet up in his basement for sparring sessions. Our plan was born out of desperation. The stipends we earned were meager at best, and everything demanded credits. The world didn't care that we didn't have enough or needed to wait for our next paycheck. All they cared about was their pockets. Eventually, we entered full-blown matches in illegal fighting rings. With the crazed gamblers throwing money at us, each round's winnings were drool-worthy. More importantly, they were enough to feed our families for weeks.

"We're moving the fights to a bigger area so everyone finishes faster. Aria, are you listening to me?" Xavier's voice pries me from my memories. I shove my bruised hands into my pockets, scanning the room that's empty now. With a sigh, he grips my shoulders until I face him. "You know how to fight."

"If someone's punching me, I don't have a choice. No one would just let themselves die."

He sits back and folds his arms. "No. I meant that you've learned it before, and your secret isn't safe."