Save Us
Chapter Two
Someone was watching me. I hate that feeling. You know they're there. A shiver went up my spine. Well Clove, you best give them something good to look at. I licked my lips and looked down the line of knives. I picked up one. It felt light in my hand but I knew it was perfect for this shot. It was a good length, the blade was about 20 centimetres. I lifted it up and made sure the person saw the blade. The silver, clean knife looked elegant in my strong but dainty hands. I chose a target. Across the weapons hall Caleb was trying to act like he was good at archery in front of the five new kids they'd brought in a few days ago. He set off the mechanical birds. Please. I watched him, smirking to myself for a while. Out of the hundreds of birds he had set off, he managed to hit about ten but only seven fell. To hurt his pride even more I called his name.
'Hey Caleb!' He turned to me with an expression of elation and frustration on his bruised face.
'Bit busy Clove!' He turned away. I put on a sickly sweet voice pretending I was hurt at his words.
'But Caleb! Look!' The second I finished the sentence I hurled the knife with deadly accuracy at the birds. I impaled two birds on the knife – a third would have been caught but the knife was just a little bit too short. The birds stopped appearing. I had commanded the attention of the hall, even some of the 18 year-olds were looking impressed at my work. Caleb threw down his bow and stormed out of the room. The new kids that were impressed by Caleb forgot about him in that second and stared at me like I was a deity. Hey, maybe I was. I flashed a smile at those kids that they would never forget and turned to see if my original audience had enjoyed the performance. The boy must have been two years older than me, he had to be fifteen at least. His arms were muscled and he was about 5ft 10in. He looked at me like he was bored but I could see in his eyes I had impressed him. How could I have not seen him before? You're either brought into the Academy by Orlando when you're twelve or your parents pay for you to start training when you're five. There was no way this guy was twelve, but I came here when I was five. I had never seen this person here. Frustration flickered across my brow.
'Who are you?' I asked ignoring common courtesy. He seemed amused at my anger.
'Nice to meet you to.' He replied. I calmed myself down and put on a front.
'My name's Clove. What's yours?' I smiled but it must have looked like a grimace. Something about this boy made my acting skills disappear.
'My name's Cato. I'm new.' The shock must have shown on my face. He was twelve! I regained composure.
'Well Cato, tip number one. Don't anger people. You're never going to make friends here by poking the bears.' I wasn't going to be intimidated by someone a year younger than me. He walked towards me. He lowered his voice.
'Who said I needed friends?' And walked off without another word.