The sharp taste of metallic blood lingers in my mouth. I squint through the blinding light. Dark spots swim in my vision, and I have to blink a few times until my eyesight clears. I find myself in a windowless cell with four steel walls. Two soldiers stand on either side of the thick metal door.
"Prisoner 6822 is awake," one soldier says through his mouthpiece. I groan as the muscles in my neck send stabbing pain. I'm tied to a wooden chair, shackles on my wrists and ankles. I wince every time I move due to the tightness of my bonds.
A soldier opens the door, and they both salute at the small figure that strides in. Her immaculate boots click against the metal floor as she approaches me. A long elegant black robe is draped over her uniform. But it's her face that surprises me most. Her eyes are soft and bright. Her cheeks are rosy, and her lips are covered in gloss. She doesn't look anything like most Republic soldiers. She seems…innocent.
But the hate-filled glare she gives me suggests otherwise. She unhooks her fancy handgun from her belt, fiddling with it absentmindedly as she observes me with her gold flecked eyes. I feel naked and vulnerable, as if the girl is taking in every part of me, scanning it before tossing it away.
"So," she begins. "You're Day's brother, correct?"
I don't even bother answering her question. "Where are my brothers?" I croak out, my mouth dry.
The girl tightens her jaw. "Are you Day's brother?" she asks again through clenched teeth. "Answer me!" she snaps at my silence. "Or else I'll have a soldier shoot both of your brothers."
"Yes, I am Day's brother," I answer, my eyes wide at the threat. The girl's ridged posture relaxes.
"What's your name?" she asks in a softer tone.
"John. John Suren Wing."
"What are your brothers' names?" she then asks.
"Day's real name is Daniel Altan Wing. My other brother is Eden Bataar Wing," I say quickly. "Please don't hurt them!" I plead.
Why shouldn't I?" the girl snaps. I think I see her eyes moisten. "Your brother killed mine. Eden's carrying some disease that'll kill others if he is released. And as for Day," she pauses as if her mind is contradicting herself. "He'll be sentenced tomorrow for a numerous amount of crimes," she continues after a few moments of silence.
"They're going to put him in front of the firing squad, aren't they?" I ask quietly.
The girl purses her lips tightly. "I don't know yet," she lies.
"Let me take his place," I say. The girl blinks. "What?"
"Let me take his place," I repeat. "I have 200 Notes in my pocket. You can have it if you free Eden."
A million thoughts seem to race in the girl's mind, but she finally says, "I can't." She's biting her lip.
"I'll pay you 300 Notes!" I plead.
The girl shakes her head bitterly. "I have more Notes than I'll ever need."
"Please. Can you at least try?"
The girl only gives me a half smile before she turns her back on me and walks away. "Give him some water," she orders one guard. He salutes her before going to fetch the water. The soldiers shut the door behind her after giving the girl one last salute.
The soldier returns with a glass of water. They unshackle my right hand before handing me the cup. "Don't try anything," a guard warns. I smirk a little. He must be a new recruit.
I gulp down the first few swallows of water greedily. Then I hear my mother's voice in my head. Don't drink water so fast. It'll give you a stomachache, her soft voice reminds me. I get a little teary eyed, remembering the memory. I was nine, playing street hockey with a crumpled paper ball and iron pokers with Daniel. I was so exhausted afterwards, and I began gulping down water as if I was trapped in a desert for days. I still remember my mother's hand brush against my cheek as she told me to slow down.
I control my thirst for water, taking smaller sips. I just hope the girl changes her mind.
Soldiers drag me to a cell with a window the next day. In a distance, a JumboTron is facing my direction as it blares new headlines:
NOTORIOUS CRIMINAL KNOWN AS DAY ARRESTED.
TO BE SENTENCED TODAY OUTSIDE BATALLA HALL.
DANGEROUS MENACE KNOWN TO SOCIETY FINALLY CAUGHT.
TEEN RENEGADE KNOWN AS DAY CLAIMS TO WORK ALONE.
NO AFFILIATION WITH THE PATRIOTS.
Above the headlines is Day's bloody face. A red streak of blood is stained in his white blond hair. He is bruised and bloody, limping on one leg. My vision flashes red with anger.
I can barely hear the judge's voice in the recorded video on the JumboTron. He rambles on about all of Day's crimes. "Day is hereby sentenced to death by firing squad," he says over the crowd's reckless screams. "-to be carried out four days from today, on December twenty-seventh at six P.M., Ocean Standard Time, in an undisclosed location-" The crowd screams again. "-to be broadcasted live across the city…"
I feel myself go numb. I would rather die than see them hurt you, I had promised Daniel when we were younger. Day is going to die in four days. And I hate myself for being so helpless.
Please R&R!