A/N back a bit faster this time- its weird but I find these parts to the story easier to write. Hopefully this chapter should clear up some of the puzzles within this story, but as always if you have questions then PM me/ leave a review. Meh, leave a review anyway :)

Enjoy

Finally the little blue light that signalled safety flickered into life and the hallucinations began to retreat. Jay was breathing heavily, trying to fight back the bile in her throat. It was no use. Feeling her head spin, she leaned as far away from where she was sat as she could, straining against the chains, and threw up. There wasn't much to come up; lunch had been a long time ago and she had missed dinner. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grimaced at the vile taste. She leaned back against the wall of the meat locker and shivered. Her breath curled up into the air in front of her as she tried to forget the memories of the dogs and her old Lieutenant; on the up side, at least Jason had stayed away this time.

Suddenly she realised she was not alone in the Dark. Two metres away, on the other side of the room, also shackled by his wrists and ankles, was a Cheap. He had been badly beaten but he was only a couple of days into his Training; they hadn't drugged him yet or used their more rigorous methods on him. She looked closer. It was the one who had killed Bantam.

By his feet was a metal tray of food, entirely untouched and now stone cold. "If you're not going to eat that, pass it over here" Jay said gruffly. The Cheap just looked back at her blankly. She hissed in annoyance. "Stupid Cheap." She muttered to herself. She caught the Cheap's attention and pointed to herself, and then the tray of food. Finally he seemed to twig and slid the food over to her. Thankfully it came to rest less than a foot away from her side; she couldn't move much further than that in any direction.

She all but lunged toward the food. Although she still felt somewhat nauseous, she knew from past experience that eating helped to speed up the course of the drug through her system. On the plate were two slices of spam, some instant mashed potatoes and some tinned peas. She ate quickly, cramming handfuls of mash and peas into her mouth, leaving the spam until last.

She was just about to move onto the spam when she glanced back at the Cheap. He was staring at her in disbelief. "What are you looking at, Cheap?" She snarled aggressively, before remembering that the idiot didn't know what she was saying. Even so, the Cheap looked away, allowing Jay to make quick work of the spam left on the tray. Just as she was finishing she heard a voice.

"What's a 'cheap'?" the Cheap asked. Jay almost choked on the small mouthful she had been savouring. She looked up at him in shock.

"You speak Russian?" she replied, somewhat stunned, but also a bit suspicious; it was unusual for Cheaps to speak the Ghosts' language.

"Yes" the Cheap said uncertainly.

"Good." Jay replied. The Cheap looked confused. "The more you understand, the quicker you will learn. The quicker you learn, the better your chances of survival. You owe it to Bantam to survive."

"Who is Bantam?"

"The man you killed." Jay said bluntly.

"He was going to kill me. I had no choice." He protested. Jay snorted in derision and shook her head, wondering how he could be so blind.

"There is always a choice. You weighed the value of your life against his. You made the decision to take his life in order to save your own."

"I didn't want to kill him."

"But you did. And now you must find a way to live with that. For his sake." Jay murmured. They stopped talking as Jay suddenly coughed violently, her entire body shuddering. Then as quickly as she started, she stopped, again noting the tiny specks of blood that appeared in her palm. She wiped them away.

"You didn't answer my question." The Cheap said, "What's a 'cheap'?"

"Any Ghost the Lieutenant buys in a batch from the Poachers. So, for example, you are a Cheap. What does the tattoo on your wrist say?"

The Cheap frowned and looked at his wrist, then read out the code. "There's a symbol that I don't recognise, followed by IL… 1-3-3-6… H…18C" He paused, "What does it mean?"

"It's a price tag of sorts, the final part is your value, the asking price if you like." Jay replied matter-of-factly. "So the Lieutenant paid $1800 for you. The 'H' means that the Poachers didn't train you, you're raw material. This is part of why your value is lower; it means the Lieutenant has to train you himself, he can't put you straight into fights. Raw Cheaps are a gamble. 1336 is your ID number, so that your fight history can be recorded and tracked- it makes it easier for potential buyers to assess your value if the Lieutenant decides to resell you."

The Cheap looked at her in disbelief, then down at his wrist in disgust. Jay continued on emotionlessly. "IL is the postal abbreviation of Illinois, you were taken from somewhere in Illinois, same as me. That weird symbol right at the start is the Poachers' signature. Poachers work in gangs across the country picking up product. By leaving their signature on the Ghosts they sell, they build up their reputation.

For example the Bluestings, the guys who sold Crow, are known for catching and selling in bulk. However, very little of their catch lasts more than a month or two. The Bluestings rely on quantity, not quality to make their money. The Sabers on the other hand go the other way round. They pick their catch carefully and train them over several weeks before making their sale. A Ghost from the Sabers has an 18 month life expectancy. This means the Sabers can sell them at a higher price and collect commission on their fights. Bantam was brought in by a crew like the Sabers; he was ranked 3rd out of 12 in his batch. Damn good Ghost."

"How do you know all of this?" the Cheap asked.

"I've been living in this world for almost three years now, picked up a thing or two along the way I guess." Jay replied, massaging the small of her back in an attempt to relieve the growing ache in her muscles.

"Why do they call you 'Mutt'?"

Jay froze, then leant backwards slightly and lifted the bottom of her tank top up, showing her stomach. Marring the skin of her torso were numerous scars, some silvered with age but others were still relatively new, about 6 months old. They were from dog bites. "My old Lieutenant, the Washington First, had a penchant for training his dogs alongside his Ghosts." She said bitterly. "We have to get our names from somewhere."

"Why? What's your real name? I'm Rob by the way."

"Forget that name. That name belongs to the Outside. The man belonging to that name is dead. From the moment you were taken your name became 1336 or Cheap. Just as my name is 1058, or Mutt. Your purpose now is to fight for the Lieutenant and to survive. Nothing else matters." Jay said sharply.

"Crow calls you Jay." 1336 pointed out stubbornly.

"Crow is different." Jay snapped, the look on her face making it clear she would not elaborate on that fact, or appreciate any further questions on the matter from the Cheap.

"Okay then, what do you mean, fight? I'm not going to fight anybody. I don't want to kill anyone." 1336 said, a small tremor entering his voice.

"Of course you don't want to. But you will, everyone does. If you don't you will die, and then the life you have already taken will be for nothing, a waste." Jay said harshly, angry that he would dismiss Bantam's sacrifice like that. "Think of them as dog fights, only there are different types. Some are lethal, some aren't. Regardless, we are used to settle disputes between Lieutenants, or to earn money."

Jay grimaced as the pain across her chest returned. Her head was still pounding, as though someone were slowly tightening a vice around her skull. She grasped her forehead, willing it to go away. It didn't work.

"You're sick." The Cheap stated, a hint of concern colouring his voice. Jay gave a very small nod, not really wanting to move her head any more than was necessary. "How bad is it?" 1336 persisted.

"Bad enough. Given that there used to be 10 of us and now there are only 3."

"I don't understand."

"The Lieutenant used to own 10 fully trained Ghosts, plus a couple of extra investments who were still in Training. But since the sickness went round- I heard the Watchers call it Legionnaires disease- there's only me, Crow and Smiler left. All the others got sick and died, one way or another. That's why we've got so many Cheaps being tested at the moment, the Lieutenant needs to replenish his stock." Jay replied as though talking about the weather, or what was for dinner.

1336 on the other hand, looked sick to his stomach.

"If you're going to be sick, make sure you lean away from where you're sat. Sitting in your own vomit makes for an unappetising dinner." Jay said bluntly. The Cheap leaned away but thankfully didn't throw up; Jay was having enough difficulty keeping her own nausea at bay without the rancid smell of a Cheap's stomach contents invading her nasal passages.

When he looked back towards her, pure, unadulterated fear had taken over his face- all calm from their earlier conversation had vanished completely.

"I'm going to die here, aren't I?" He whispered. Jay almost smiled; it normally took the Cheaps longer to come to terms with that unavoidable fact. Be it one month or 4 years, death would eventually catch up with them. Much like the world they had found themselves in, it was inescapable.

Shifting her body so that she was facing him properly, she looked him in the eye, her gaze steady. "Yes"

Thanks for reading, please leave a review, I like to know whether I'm getting this right/ you're enjoying (or not enjoying) the story :D