Max awoke sometime later with a splitting headache. She moaned and rubbed her temples, trying to urge it away. The last thing she remembered was the tranquilizing bullets raining down on Zack. Her breath caught in her throat. Had he made it? She jumped up and looked into his cell.
Yes, he was there. "Zack!" she cried, almost a little giddy. He had his back to her and arms crossed. He was angry, it was obvious. Dressed back into the same type of uniform when they were kids, the back of his neck was a violent shade of red. "Zack," she repeated, now uncertain, "what'd they do to you?"
He turned and she saw the rage boiling in his bloodshot eyes. "They want me to be a soldier…again," he spat. "They tried to put a barcode back on me. Obviously, they didn't have enough ink for that." Laughing hoarsely, he continued, "Just because I'm back at Manticore, doesn't mean Manticore has come back to me."
"They can't make us become soldiers again-" Max began, trying to reason with him.
"They sure seem to think they can. I left that part of my life eleven years ago. Eleven years ago when I was a child. And, I'm not returning to it!" he cried, starting to become unreasonable. Max shook her head. There was no arguing with him, for he was right, after all. But, he could get himself seriously hurt if he wasn't careful.
She turned away from him and sat down on the hard bed and rested her head in her hands. "We have to get out," she said more to herself than Zack.
"A little bit late for that. See? That's the problem. We've escaped once and they're going to be expecting it, so it's going to be double security for us." Neither of them said anymore. Lunch was delivered later. Max, starting to already feel the signs of pregnancy, felt so sick she vomited up all of hers into the toilet. Zack made no move to help her. He was busy muttering to himself in words that Max didn't understand. After that, she rolled over on her cot and drifted in and out of sleep.
Upon hearing the click of the door opening, she rose and looked up. Lydecker, flanked by other men, walked in. "Time for training-or retraining, should I call it?" he sneered.
"I don't think so," Zack bit back.
"No, this time you don't get a choice. No more choices. It's time to march."
"I'd rather die."
"There are fates worth than death-you know that don't you?"
"Then so be it."
"No," Lydecker shook his finger like he was disciplining a child. "You're going to march. Or else."
"Or else what? You make me march, I'll die. Simple as that."
"Have it your way. Guards?" Lydecker raised a hand. Twenty-five guns centered on Zack and clicked into place. Although he wasn't afraid, Max saw the wheels in his head turning. He had a plan. She saw a slight grin come over him and disappear as quickly as it had come.
"Wait!" Zack cried, pretending to be afraid. "I'll march."
"Well, that's good news," Lydecker said, pleased. He looked at Max. "And how about you?" She looked at Zack and he gave a slight nod. Just barely, but it was a nod.
"I'll come."
"Fine, unlock their cells." The cells were unlocked and Max and Zack left. A gun was centered on their heads. One shot and they wouldn't have a brain. Lydecker led, followed by Max, and followed by Zack. He led them out into a big arena area. The rest of the kids were already there. They were all miserable looking. Wearing similar uniforms to Max and Zack, some already had their hair shaven. Max was tempted to reach up and touch her own. She felt burning tears come to her eyes as she stared at Tinga's shaven hair.
"Alright!" Lydecker called. "Let's see how much you remember!" He gave a couple hand signals and slowly the kids fell into two parallel lines. The others glanced at Zack, their true leader, and noticing his obedience copied. Just as Lydecker was getting cocky from having his kids behave, Zack struck.
He literally flew up in the air and came down, kicking at the guards. "Get them!" he yelled to the others. There was no hesitation.
Lydecker, seeing his plan fail, scrambled inside and called out more guards. Max ran up to him and kneed him in the stomach as he turned back around, waiting for the rest of the troops. He dropped to his knees, clutching at his stomach and gasping for air. "That, is for capturing us," she told him. Another swift kick into his chest. "That was for creating the child. And this," she cried, "is for thinking we would be your kids again!" In one fluid movement, she slugged Lydecker in the head so hard she heard her knuckles crack. Lydecker crumpled to the ground like a ball of paper and didn't move.
