Бесплатный фрагмент - Battlefield Silence

Prologue

Who even invented giving tests at the end of the period?

I looked at my notebook again; the numbers and letters had blurred into a mess, preventing me from finding any logical solution. Eddie was sitting to my right and, unlike me, was at least writing something — though God knows what, since he’s as much of a dunce in math as I am.

“Stop distracting me!” he hissed when I threw my pen on the desk for the umpteenth time.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually solving the problems.” I shot him a skeptical look, and he responded with a smirk, sliding his notebook toward me. I snorted with laughter at the sight of a miserable little face he’d drawn hanging from Mr. Newt’s cosine.

“The details are remarkably lifelike,” I laughed. Eddie proudly tossed his golden locks in response.

The bell rang, cutting short our intellectual conversation about high art, and that’s when it hit me: I’d failed the test.

Mr. Newt rose languidly from his chair, adjusting his tie. He looked about thirty-five. He had straight, black hair that reached his chin, but he always slicked it back. It looked thoroughly unpleasant.

Everyone stood up and hurried to turn in their notebooks, though a few were desperately trying to scribble down last-minute answers. I decided it was pointless, so I walked up to the teacher’s desk with my nearly empty notebook. Eddie tossed his masterpiece onto the pile and pulled me along, eager to get out before Newt had a chance to appreciate his artwork.

“Bonnie,” the teacher called out. “Stay behind for a moment.”

Eddie stopped too, but Mr. Newt gestured for him to leave. I watched my friend, waiting as he debated what to do.

“I’ll be right outside…” Eddie mouthed silently and left.

Still standing by the door, I watched the last of my classmates leave, then turned to face the teacher. Strangely, he didn’t look angry — if anything, he seemed too relaxed.

I shifted my weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, earning an irritated sigh and a command to sit in the chair opposite his desk.

“Look, sir, that drawing wasn’t meant to be you…” I started, plopping into the seat, but he cut me off mid-sentence.

“I’m not interested in Fletcher’s artistic talents. I’d like to talk about your talents.”

“My talents?” I frowned.

Mr. Newt leaned back calmly in his chair, his gaze fixed intently on me.

“Your recent test scores have been… lacking,” he replied. “I think you could benefit from some extra lessons.”

I tried to suppress a scoff. Well, that was nothing new, though the start had seemed promising. I mirrored his posture, leaning back in my chair.

“Understood. I’ll definitely work on it,” I said, reciting the well-rehearsed line. “I’ll ask Tucker to tutor me.”

“No, no.” He raised a hand to stop me. “Tucker Forest has exhausted my trust after skipping two tests. I will be tutoring you.”

I eyed him with disbelief.

“What an honor. But I won’t have the time.”

“Let’s drop the sarcasm, Bonnie.” His mouth twisted into an unpleasant smirk. “I have your best interests at heart.”

Something in his words put me on edge; a sinister light danced in his gray eyes. I made a move to stand, but he gently placed a hand on my shoulder, forcing me back down.

“Our conversation isn’t over. It’s impolite to leave. You do want to graduate, don’t you?”

A lump formed in my throat, but instead of fear, I felt irritation flare up inside me. Leaning forward, I planted my elbows on his desk.

“I’m not quite sure what you’re implying, Mr. Newt.”

His lips formed a condescending smile, as if he were talking to a small child, offering them a piece of candy.

“What I’m saying,” he began, moving closer, “is that I can help you… if you help me.”

His hand brushed against my hair and I jerked my head away. I shot up from the chair, my hands clenched into fists. For a second, surprise flickered in his eyes — apparently, he wasn’t used to that kind of reaction — but he quickly composed himself.

“Very well,” he said calmly, standing up and rolling up his sleeves as he did so. “I wanted to do this the easy way. Don’t be surprised by what happens next.”

His voice was perfectly normal again, as if he were just telling me my test score, not making veiled threats.

He walked around the desk and started to move toward me, but with a sharp kick, I sent my chair skidding right into his path.

“I think you’ll be the one who’s surprised,” I said, my voice like ice, even though my whole body was tense.

Spinning sharply on my heels, I forced myself to walk out the door with cold composure.

1

23:59

I lay on my bunk, drilling a hole into the grey, mildew-stained ceiling with my eyes. Total darkness surrounded me, the only source of light being the digital clock on the table — a sight I didn’t have the courage to face. In one minute, my life would be turned upside down. Again.

All my friends had already gone through this. I hadn’t seen them in days, and the last time I’d seen my very best friend, Jared, was three months ago at dinner, the very night he turned eighteen. That was our last meeting.

Since then, every night before falling asleep, I’d recall his sly little smile when he’d steal sausage from someone else’s sandwich and share it with me. Or his ringing, infectious laugh as he’d give Eddie a playful smack on the head for, yet again, trying to ask me out on a “prison date.”

I remember them all.

Jamie; my friend who looks like an angel until something or someone ruins her mood. Her deep, abyss-like blue eyes and almost white curls. She always reminded me of a doll. The kind of girl you’d expect to see strolling through Beverly Hills with a little dog in her arms. But Jamie had diligently shattered that stereotype by ending up behind bars.

I remember Eddie; the fair-haired boy with honey-colored eyes who could set a garage on fire one moment and shower you with dandelions the next. He always made me laugh. Everyone knew about his feelings for me, but I always tried to play it off as a joke, and he never seemed to mind.

Then there was the brains of our operation, the reason most of our shenanigans went unpunished — except for that one time, of course. Tucker was always the most level-headed. I saw him as an older brother, even though we were barely a month apart. He could always tell if a plan would work and if it was worth the risk. He was never the leader, never tried to take Jared’s place; and Jared, in turn, trusted him as much as he trusted himself.

I am the last of us left in the juvenile facility, with no idea what awaits me beyond the stone wall.

***

00:00

Happy birthday to me.

My heart skipped a beat the second the numbers changed. It became hard to breathe. Whether from anticipation or fear, I started fidgeting on the bed; sleep was the last thing on my mind. In the next cell, I heard my neighbor, Carrie, scratching something on the wall. It made me momentarily forget the uncertain future that was just hours away.

I jumped up and slowly approached the wall that connected our cells.

“Carrie…” I tried to speak softly, not to wake the other neighbors, but I immediately heard a knock from the other side, hinting for me to shut up.

“A week has passed,” Carrie whispered.

Strangely, I could hear her voice clearly, hoarse from tears. She was left alone here, just like me.

“You’ll see each other soon,” I said, pouring all the optimism I could muster into my voice.

I’d heard that Jordan Ralph was taken last week. I didn’t know him, but every evening Carrie would fill me in on the details of their latest escape plan, which, like the previous ones, never made it past the drawing board.

“I have six more months here… He won’t wait for me…” Her voice broke off, followed by a sob.

“Why do you say that? Where could he possibly go?”

Carrie stopped scratching the wall, and I didn’t hear any more sobs. It was as if someone had suddenly muted the sound, leaving only the pounding of my own heart trying to break through the oppressive silence.

“You don’t know what they do to them there,” she finally answered after a pause that felt like an eternity. “No one comes back from there.”

At that very moment, the sound of a door opening echoed down the corridor, making me jump.

The guards never come after lights out.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, getting closer to my door.

I was still standing by the wall, trying to swallow the huge lump in my throat. For some reason, I wasn’t scared; it felt more like the anticipation of something momentous. The footsteps grew louder, and with each step, I moved closer to the small window of my cell.

The realization that I was about to be reunited with my friends slowly filled me with joy, making me almost want to jump into the arms of the guards who had now stopped outside my door.

“Bonnie Golightly,” one of them broke the silence, unlocking the door. “You’re being transferred to the adult prison. Let’s go.”

For a split second, I stood frozen, unsure what to do. Pack my things? Make the bed? Say goodbye to Carrie? Or maybe say a prayer?

The guard looked at me expectantly, starting to tap his foot. The sound snapped me out of my trance, and I obediently stepped out of the cell.

The corridor, which had been my home for the last four years, now seemed unnaturally long, as if it would take me hours to walk its length.

Carrie’s cell was just a few feet away. Stopping in front of it, I ignored a shove in the back from the guard. Carrie was watching me from her small window, her face an impenetrable mask. She didn’t say a word, but her final words echoed in my memory:

No one comes back from there.

The guard pushed me forward, and I continued toward the exit.

Fortunately, they didn’t twist my arms or handcuff me. I just clasped my hands tightly in front of me, squeezing them so hard my knuckles turned white. The corridor seemed to stretch for a thousand miles; I had time to think about everything and everyone.

What would I say when I saw him? What would our reunion be like after three months apart? What if Jared hadn’t waited for me, just as Carrie predicted? I quickly pushed the thought away.

The guards led me out of the female wing, and now we were walking down a long corridor that connected it to the main part of the prison.

We covered that distance much faster. Stepping outside, I took a deep breath and looked around. It was cool; the sky was overcast, hiding the stars. A transport van stood in front of me, and two guys were being led out from the neighboring block, their hands cuffed behind their backs. Well, of course, the guys always like to put up a fight in these situations.

Once the rebellious boys were shoved into the van, my guards gave me a gentle nudge, and I, in turn, calmly climbed inside.

The van started moving. The guys gave me an appraising look. Their faces were unfamiliar, though we’d surely crossed paths in school or in the yard. But I’d never paid attention to anyone else; only my friends ever mattered to me.

Then again, it’s hardly surprising — prison isn’t really the place for making new friends.

2

I don’t know how much time had passed before we reached our destination, but the sudden stop and the sound of metal scraping against the ground jolted me awake. Stretching toward the window, I tried to make out our surroundings, but the windows were black, as if they’d been painted over.

The guard sitting to my left stood up and opened the door. A sharp stream of cold air rushed in. It was October, but this year the cold was unusually biting. Fitting, I supposed, that the new chapters of my life seemed to make a habit of starting in October.

The guard climbed out and yanked me sharply by the elbow, pulling me outside. I stood before huge sliding gates — and I wasn’t mistaken, they were indeed made of iron.

But why hadn’t we driven inside? Weren’t they afraid I’d knock out the guard and make a run for the woods? My hands weren’t even bound. The realization was a unpleasant blow to my pride.

“Scared, babe?” I flinched at the snide voice near my ear and turned to see one of the inmates who’d ridden with me.

He was only half a head taller than me; I couldn’t see his hair, hidden under a cap. The guy noticed my glance and smirked as if I’d been drooling over him.

I was instantly overcome with the urge to say something insulting — like, if he called me ‘babe’ one more time, he’d be picking his teeth off the ground — but the sound of footsteps and moving figures instantly captured my attention.

Three people were approaching the gates from the inner courtyard. I spotted a female silhouette among them. Unexpected.

The woman and the two guards stopped opposite us. She didn’t look like a guard, and she certainly didn’t look like an inmate. Her hair was short and dark, neatly slicked back. A black silk shirt was tucked into narrow trousers. The only thing that didn’t fit her image was the army boots, almost identical to mine.

“Well, not much of a haul,” she concluded, looking the three of us over.

The woman walked past each of us a few times. I didn’t move and realized I was barely breathing. It felt like she could see right through me, but I forced myself not to show fear. When she stopped directly in front of me and stared intently into my eyes, I noted that while she wasn’t much taller, I still had to look up.

Her eyes were an icy gray and showed no emotion, like empty glass marbles. It was so unsettling I gave an almost imperceptible shudder.

For a while, we just looked at each other, as if she were trying to overpower me with her gaze. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to withstand the silent test.

Smiling faintly with satisfaction, the woman turned and walked back toward the courtyard, first whispering something to the guard.

I was grabbed roughly by the elbow and shoved forward. I followed the woman, but glancing back, I noticed my travel companions remained in place.

What was happening? Why was I being taken inside, and not them?

I looked at the guard; his face was expressionless. I opened my mouth to speak, but the iron doors behind me began to close, leaving my companions outside the gate.

“What’s going on?” I asked, glancing back at the firmly shut gates.

“They didn’t qualify,” the guard answered emotionlessly, like a robot. Before I could ask what that meant, a muffled shot rang out from behind, followed by another. I felt as if I’d been doused in ice water.

They killed them. Killed them without even letting them inside.

***

My feigned composure was crumbling. All I could think about was the murder of those two. So when we entered the building, I didn’t immediately take in my surroundings.

The interior resembled a huge shopping mall, except instead of stores there were prison cells, and in place of escalators, wrought-iron metal staircases. Every sound echoed around us.

We climbed one of the staircases and moved past the cells. I managed to notice that the male and female cells were almost directly opposite each other, on different sides of the vast hall. I was being led along the left side — the men’s territory — so I deduced the women lived across the bridge.

I walked straight ahead, trying not to look into the cells. It was the middle of the night, everyone should have been ‘asleep,” but there were curious ones, those who emerged from the darkness to the bars, smiling maliciously at me in the dim light.

Once we passed the cellblocks and went through another iron door, I was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when I realized I wasn’t being taken to a cell. Instead, a narrow corridor lay before me.

I looked at the guard, confused again, but he clicked his tongue and shoved me forward.

“Stop dragging your feet. It’s not like you were picked up off the street, don’t act like you don’t know the rules.” He quickened his pace, forcing me to practically jog to keep up.

“I don’t know any such rules!” I snapped, but got no reply.

As another door opened, the bright light of fluorescent lamps assaulted my eyes. After the dim corridors, it took a moment for my vision to adjust. I looked around; the place resembled a medical office. My ins tightened into a knot. The guard tightened his grip on my forearm.

A woman in a lab coat emerged from a small wooden door, pulling on surgical gloves as she walked. Panic immediately seized me. I tried to back away, but the guard jerked me forward.

The whole place looked like a torture chamber: a large metal table with surgical instruments laid out on it, and a chair with straps on the armrests. It became hard to breathe. The woman calmly walked over to the table and picked up a strange device that looked like a gun.

“Sit!” she ordered, but I stood frozen. “For God’s sake, just put her in the chair!”

I resisted as much as I could, but the guard was ten times my size. It was nothing for him to simply pick me up and dump me into the chair, which he promptly did.

“What are you going to do?” I shouted. “Let me go!”

The guard gripped me with vise-like hands, holding me in place. For a moment, I managed to swing my arm and knock the woman’s hand away. Cursing, she ordered the guard to strap me down with the restraints.

I found myself praying they’d just take me back to the gates and shoot me like they did the other two, rather than dissect me for organs in this horrible little room.

My arms were tightly fastened to the armrests with the straps. I decided resisting was a waste of time if I didn’t want to get knocked out on top of everything else.

The woman wiped the left side of my neck with a cotton swab. I assumed an injection was coming, after which I’d wake up without a kidney — if I woke up at all.

But then I suddenly felt metal touch my skin, followed by a sharp pain, like a thousand needles piercing my neck, making me dig my nails into the chair’s armrests.

It took me a moment to understand what had happened. Stunned, I stared at a fixed point on the wall while the doctor dabbed the sore spot again. Then the guard released me from the restraints and helped me to my feet. My neck was burning. I fought the urge to touch the wound.

I was led out of that room of fear and taken back toward the cells. With every step, I felt my strength draining away. My eyes were heavy, halfway glued shut. I no longer cared what happened next, as long as I could lie down and sleep.

After rounding the bridge that connected the men’s and women’s sections, we stopped at the far cell. The guard unlocked the door and pushed me inside.

The cell was dark, the outside light barely penetrating. I could make out a bunk bed, but couldn’t immediately tell where I was supposed to go.

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I just barely managed to discern a figure lying on the bottom bunk. The girl didn’t wake from the noise of the closing gate, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I had no idea what time it was; reveille was probably soon.

I tried to climb onto my bunk as quietly as possible. My body had stopped obeying me, and I fell asleep without even taking off my shoes.

3

Everything was quiet, only the sound of wheels on the ground and the slight rocking of the vehicle over bumps. Were they taking me somewhere?

I couldn’t move my hands; the handcuffs dug painfully into my wrists. There was a blindfold over my eyes, I could feel the fabric’s touch.

Some time passed before the movement stopped, and I heard the sound of a van’s sliding door opening. I was grabbed roughly by the elbow and pulled out onto the street. The air was very warm, I’d even say hot.

I felt sweat trickling down my face. Footsteps sounded nearby, and then my blindfold fell to the ground. In front of me were the same woman and two guards. Looking around, I saw Jared nearby. He wasn’t looking at me; his empty gaze was fixed somewhere in space.

On the other side, I noticed the others — Tucker was standing there, and further back, Jamie and Eddie. Their gazes were equally empty, while I swiveled my head, looking from one side to the other.

I began to feel uneasy, a panic rising deep inside. The woman in front of me whispered something to the guards, and they raised their guns.

My heart stopped. I looked at Jared; he was still calm, while I could already taste blood on my lips, a sudden, unbearable heat washing over me.

“They don’t qualify,” the guards said in unison, and fired.

They fired past me — at my friends.

An inhuman scream drowned out the sound of the gunshots.

My scream.

My eyes flew open, not immediately understanding where I was. I sat up so fast I almost hit my head on the ceiling. Bars were in front of me; I felt the hard mattress I was sitting on.

Gradually, memories of the previous night reassembled in my head. I was breathing too fast, making my mouth instantly dry. Turning my head, I didn’t immediately notice the girl standing opposite the bunk.

Arms crossed over her chest, she was looking at me with irritation. She didn’t look older than twenty, maybe even my age. Jet-black hair fell to her shoulders, and her skin was quite tanned, at least compared to my deathly pale complexion.

“Good morning!” she announced sarcastically, waving her hands, then turned and started pacing the room, muttering.

I wasn’t listening, though I caught snippets like; “I preferred living alone,” “why does my cellmate have to be a lunatic?”

I couldn’t steady my breathing; I probably looked like a skater who’d just finished their routine. I tried to calm down, but the panic attack in my chest wasn’t going anywhere. Cautiously touching my burning forehead, I noticed it was wet, my hair stuck together with sweat. It suddenly got quiet around me, and I realized the chatter had stopped; the girl was now looking at me with concern.

“You don’t look so hot,” she concluded. “Looks like that thing gave you some kind of infection.”

She pointed at my neck, and I remembered the needles from yesterday. Touching my neck, I felt a burning sensation, the skin was raw.

“What is it?”

“Don’t worry,” the girl waved a hand, “Just a tattoo.”

My eyes widened, and I frantically shook my head, looking for a mirror, but of course, there wasn’t one — an unaffordable luxury in prison.

“Calm down,” the girl came over and turned my head. “I have one too.”

I peered at the small black design on her neck, something like a barcode, stripes and numbers — fifteen zero three. Just like on products in a store.

“What do the numbers mean?” I asked, still examining the tattoo.

“No idea. My serial number, probably.”

I touched my neck again, as if my fingers could read what was imprinted there. The touch hurt, but I didn’t remove my hand from the wound.

“Yours is ten zero seven,” the girl preempted my question and held out her hand. “I’m Harper.”

“Bonnie.”

With a trembling hand, I shook my hand of my cellmate and leaned back against the pillow, if you could call it that; it felt like styrofoam. My head felt unbearably heavy and throbbed; a little more and it would explode. Harper put her hands on my bunk and leaned in to get a better look at me.

“I think you have a fever. Should I call for someone?”

I shook my head and frowned, my dream replaying in my head. I couldn’t sit still without finding out if my friends were here.

“When is yard time?” The enthusiasm with which I tried to sit up clearly didn’t convince Harper.

“You can barely stand on your feet.”

I gave her a probing look, and she surrendered.

“Alright, lunch is in an hour. Try to pull yourself together.”

***

In Harper’s mind, ‘pulling yourself together’ meant combing out the nest on my head with a thin metal comb and washing the sweat off my face. She offered me her toothbrush, but I refused, only realizing later that getting a new one from the commissary wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

When I finished my “makeover,” Harper looked me over with satisfaction.

“Well, that’s better.”

I forced a smile. I didn’t feel better; my head was still pounding, but the fever had subsided. When the guards came for us, I was a bit unsteady, but I didn’t let it show. I needed to focus on my goal — to find out where my friends were and if they were okay.

We walked past the cells. I saw other girls also getting ready for lunch, waiting to be let out. On the other side, guys were emerging from their cells accompanied by their guards. I caught myself scanning for a familiar face.

The cafeteria was in the next block, so it was just as vast as the living quarters; it could fit everyone. Though a definite queue still existed. The guards let us inside and went to fetch other inmates.

My heart was racing; I thought I could hear nothing but it, so desperately did I scan the crowd and find no one.

My head was immediately flooded with a thousand thoughts, each more terrible than the last.

What if they didn’t qualify? What if I never see them again?

My head started to buzz, I remembered my dream again, the weapons aimed at my friends.

“Bonnie!” A shout, so dear and familiar, jolted me out of my stupor. I turned on unsteady legs.

Jamie was rushing toward me across the cafeteria. Before I could react, she literally knocked me off my feet, sending me tumbling onto a nearby table — luckily, it was empty. I held her tight. Jamie’s hug was so strong I thought I felt something crack inside. A guard standing nearby tensed and started moving toward us, but Harper calmly waved him off, as if to say there was no fight here, and he backed off.

“I didn’t dare hope I’d see you!” Jamie whispered, pulling back. “I thought they’d kill you at the entrance.”

Harper snorted with laughter, and I pinched Jamie’s shoulder.

“Gee, thanks.”

Now I could finally get a good look at my friend; Jamie had tied her blonde hair into a ponytail, her blue eyes showed tiredness, but overall she looked quite fresh, unlike me — I probably looked like a rotting piece of fruit.

Harper cleared her throat.

“Girls, I don’t want to interrupt your reunion, but if we don’t go get food now, we’re gonna get a good kick in the ass.”

Jamie and I exchanged guilty looks and nodded.

“Sit here, I’ll tell Eddie to get food for everyone,” Jamie smiled.

“Eddie’s here?” I couldn’t hide my relief.

“Yeah, we try to come early to have lunch together.”

“And Tucker?” I don’t know why, but I was afraid to ask her about Jared.

Jamie’s smile faded, but she tried to reignite it, doing a poor job. I took her hand to encourage her.

“Tucker prefers to be alone now, he comes in last.” She lowered her gaze.

“Why?”

She was silent for half a minute, but then looked me straight in the eye.

“His grandmother died. Almost right after he was transferred here.”

A guard coughed twice in our direction, so Jamie hurried off to fetch Eddie. I was left standing, trying to process what she’d said. My heart constricted painfully; it was even hard to breathe. None of us could boast loving families; my mother had spent her life looking for a richer husband, and when she finally found one, having a criminal daughter wasn’t the best advertisement, so it was easier to forget I existed. Jared’s situation wasn’t any better; his parents were serious drinkers, so they probably hadn’t even noticed he was gone. But I had seen parental love — Tucker’s grandmother had always cared for him, and she considered me family too. Even after what happened to us, she never stopped visiting and supporting us. And now we had no one, only ourselves. I can’t imagine how Tucker felt, finding out about it here, when his friends weren’t around. I hope Jared helped him cope, at least a little.

Harper nudged me onto the bench and sat down next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you in for?” I tried to change the subject and only now realized I hadn’t even asked who I was sharing a cell with.

Harper hesitated and looked away, but then turned back and gave me a meaningful look.

“I hacked the FBI database.” Clearly and precisely, and most importantly — calmly, as if I’d asked what movie she saw yesterday.

I stared at her, stunned.

“Someone get me Bonnie’s remote, I think she’s frozen.”

Eddie’s joking tone broke the vacuum in my head, and I realized my mouth was hanging open. He put a tray on the table and scooped me into a hug. I hugged him back tightly, and for a moment it seemed like everything was as before — if Eddie was joking, then not all was lost.

Pulling back, I ruffled his hair; I love his mop, it’s like autumn leaves.

“What was that about? A seizure?” Eddie laughed, sitting down opposite me.

I glanced at Harper and she smirked.

Looking at the food Eddie had brought, I almost whimpered. What it was could only be determined by tasting it. It looked like porridge, but wasn’t much different from mash, though the greenish color was misleading.

I felt nauseous and looked helplessly at my friends.

“Relax,” Harper chuckled, “It’s oatmeal.”

“Looks more like vomit.”

Jamie dropped her spoon, and Eddie laughed and high-fived Harper across the table.

It all felt so normal, as if we’d never been apart, but reality suddenly hit me hard. Only now did I notice the knuckles on Eddie’s hands were scraped raw, and Jamie’s arms were covered in bruises.

“Did you get into a fight?”

It was a joking question, but the smiles faded from their faces. Even Eddie didn’t look as cheerful and carefree as he had a moment ago. They exchanged glances and looked at me, bewildered.

“The neighbors here… not all of them are friendly,” Jamie replied.

I didn’t have time to answer — the cafeteria door burst open with a crash.

We spun around instantly; all eyes were on the door.

My heart skipped a beat.

Jared was standing in the doorway.

The guards stood a little behind him, as if afraid to get closer.

Something about him had changed; I couldn’t pinpoint what. The gaze he leveled at the guards in front of him was cold and assessing, making me shiver. His short black hair stuck out in all directions. His shoulders were broader, his arms seemed stronger. During our time apart, he’d filled out quite a bit; not a trace remained of the boy I’d seen three months ago.

He took a step forward and raised his hands, which were cuffed. A guard scurried over to him and began unlocking them; it looked comical, as if their roles were reversed.

Freed, Jared gave a strange jerk of his neck, a gesture I found unsettling. The guard let him pass, and I was about to jump up, but a hand grabbed my arm. Turning, I saw Eddie’s worried face.

“That’s a bad idea,” he warned and sat me back down.

I wanted to object, but the look in his eyes made me shut up. Jamie was also sitting rigidly. What was going on? Since when had Jared’s presence become a problem for us?

“Harper, swap places with Bonnie, please,” Eddie asked. She nodded and, standing up, moved behind me. I had no choice but to scoot over bewilderedly, making room for her.

Everything felt like a dream. I sat in a stupor, feeling the tension spreading through the cafeteria. Harper blocked my view of the entrance, and to see Jared I’d have to peer around her back, but Jamie shook her head slightly. I stared at her, not understanding. Of course, no one was going to explain anything to me. Eddie and Jamie continued eating as if nothing had happened, but I could see how tense Eddie’s shoulders were; Jamie held herself more confidently.

With my entire being, I felt his presence; I even thought a hole would be burned into my back, but I didn’t have the courage to turn around.

Jared walked past, his gaze lingering on our table. I couldn’t see his face; Harper was literally blocking my entire view, her head buried in her plate.

All I could do was watch his retreating back. The tension at our table eased; Eddie exhaled, Jamie relaxed too.

I fixed them with a scorching glare; anger was boiling inside me.

“Bon, sorry,” Eddie began, “If he’d seen you, he would’ve lost it.”

“Of course he’d lose it! We haven’t seen each other for three months!” I hissed through my teeth.

Eddie and Jamie exchanged helpless looks, and my patience snapped.

“If you don’t explain what’s going on right now, I’ll go ask him myself!”

I stood up. Eddie jumped up after me.

“Stop. Okay, just don’t freak out, alright?” He raised his hands placatingly, and I cautiously returned to my seat, ready to listen. Eddie ran a hand through his hair, clearly thinking about where to start.

“Look, you know yourself, Jamie and I haven’t been here long, so I can’t explain much.”

“Even so…”

“When we got transferred, we, just like you, wanted most of all to see the others. I hoped I’d be cellmates with one of them, but no, I got stuck with total morons.” He rolled his eyes at the mention. “I didn’t see the guys in the cafeteria, no one was in the yard either. It started dawning on me that maybe they weren’t here at all, that maybe they’d been shot like stray dogs.” I flinched, the image flashing through my mind.

“One evening, the guards came for me and my cellmates. They were letting everyone out. My idiot bunkmates were practically jumping with anticipation, but I was walking and didn’t understand a damn thing.” He fell silent and looked at me, checking my reaction. I nodded patiently, urging him to continue.

Eddie took a deep breath.

“Bon, this place isn’t like our old home. This is a real snake pit.”

4

I stared at him, not understanding. Of course I knew our old colony was like kindergarten compared to this, but hadn’t we known that from the start? Why the surprise now?

Eddie was about to say more, but he was cut off by a guard who suddenly materialized beside us.

“I think you’re done eating,” he barked. “Let’s go.”

I looked down at my untouched food. My stomach growled; it only just hit me that my last meal was over ten hours ago.

“Too late, sweetheart,” the guard tapped the table, having noticed my hungry stare.

I reluctantly got to my feet, the others rising with me. Eddie shot me a sympathetic look, but I didn’t miss the relief with which he stood up.

One piece of bad news after another; Grandma was gone, Tucker had withdrawn, and Jared was now basically our resident boogeyman. My head was about to split open.

The four of us, plus the guard, made our way to the cafeteria exit, where we had to split up. Another guard appeared next to Eddie and made him raise his hands to be cuffed. I received the same order, which was strange — they hadn’t deemed it necessary to cuff me before.

Seemed like discrimination to me; they didn’t think women were dangerous. Their mistake.

The guards led Eddie off in the opposite direction, but not before he promised we’d meet up in the yard.

A familiar face appeared in front of me — a guard I’d seen before. He gave a brief nod to the two others dealing with Jamie and Harper and ordered me to follow him. I threw an uncertain glance at my friend; she and Harper also exchanged surprised looks and shrugged.

As we walked, the guard beside me said nothing, and thankfully, didn’t shove or jerk me around like the others. My mind was completely occupied with the conversation with Eddie, mentally filling in what he’d seen when they were taken away, and what he’d meant by “snake pit”?

And most importantly, why couldn’t I talk to Jared? That hurt the most. The one thing that had kept me sane all these days was the thought of us reuniting. This outcome had never crossed my mind.

I was so lost in thought I didn’t even notice we weren’t heading toward the cells. We were now in a corridor connecting two buildings. Through the windows, I could see the prison yard; it was empty for now, a few guards pacing back and forth out of boredom. This route was unfamiliar, so I assumed they weren’t taking me to that dreaded torture chamber, but who knew what other initiations they had for newcomers.

As soon as we crossed the corridor and climbed another staircase, a door stood before us. Something unpleasant twisted inside me.

The guard opened it and gave me a light shove inside.

What I saw resembled some kind of TV control room. The wall to my left was covered in monitors of various sizes, and on the opposite side, in the far part of the room, a large desk stood on a slight platform, with a few smaller desks closer to the monitors.

I glanced at the image on one screen — the cafeteria. Another showed the prison’s interior yard. Apparently, this was the surveillance room. I was so engrossed in looking at the monitors that I jumped when a woman stood up from behind the large desk.

I recognized her immediately — short black hair slicked back, that serpentine gaze, and a terrifyingly kind smile. She gestured, but it seemed meant for the guard, because he grabbed my arm and dragged me to the desk.

“Hello, Bonnie,” she greeted me in an overly polite tone. “I’m glad to finally meet you properly.”

“I’d like to say the feeling is mutual, but my parents taught me lying is a sin.” My voice was so firm and confident it surprised even me. I had no idea where that confidence came from; maybe I was just tired of the uncertainty and wanted to get this over with.

“As is killing, my dear.”

I lifted my chin and stared directly into her eyes, trying not to show how much her words stung.

“Hmm, a girl with spirit,” her face contorted into something resembling a smirk.

“Can a spineless person even end up in my position?”

“Oh yes,” she laughed. “You’d be surprised, but one in five inmates ended up here precisely because of their spinelessness.”

“Why did you decide I’m the exception?”

Instead of answering, she squared her shoulders and crossed her arms, smiling maliciously all the while. Perhaps she thought the smile was inviting, but it was anything but.

“You see,” she began, “I don’t consider you an exception. You might just be proof of the rule.”

I pursed my lips. What could she possibly know about me? I’d only seen her once, just as she’d only seen me.

“Bonnie, have you heard of the Gracers?”

The question seemed rhetorical; she already knew the answer. I shook my head.

“It’s something like modern gladiators. Does that name mean anything to you?”

“Obviously,” I retorted sarcastically.

“About fifty years ago, a warden decided to go against the system and change the inmates’ way of life. His program involved choosing two opponents each week and pitting them against each other in an arena.”

She emphasized the word ‘arena’ clearly. I listened carefully, trying to understand where she was going.

“It caused a massive sensation. The participants trained hard for what could be the last day of their lives.” I silently studied my nails, absorbing the information, but her last phrase made me look up at her.

“Are you saying they died?”

She smiled mysteriously, but it looked horrifying.

“Only one can ever remain.”

Chaos erupted in my head. I tried to process this information. Could people really have been condemned to this? They were criminals, but still human. Right now, I was more interested in why she was enlightening me with this history, but I still wanted the details.

“Didn’t anyone stop him?”

She lowered her eyes and chuckled at some private joke. Then she walked around the desk and sat on the edge opposite me.

“It brought in incredible profit. People flocked to every fight, tickets sold out well in advance.”

“Horrible!” I hissed.

“They’re criminals,” she shrugged. “Any one of them could have harmed your loved ones. Would you keep justifying them?”

I couldn’t find an answer, and she continued, satisfied.

“Nevertheless, the rules had to be changed. Monotony bores the audience quickly.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, and I bit my lip until it nearly bled. “After a few years, the warden decided to diversify the show and add new players.”

“Women,” I answered, pursing my lips. She nodded.

“You always have to fuel interest. That’s how this prison became co-ed. He named it after his daughter — Grace.”

“How lovely,” I sneered. “The daughter must be thrilled.”

“Undoubtedly.”

I leaned back in the chair, trying to digest what I’d heard, and suddenly something clicked in my head, like a light bulb switching on. A crazy idea galloped through my mind, turning my whole body into a taut string. I raised my shocked gaze to the woman.

“It’s you…” I stammered, “That’s your name.”

She smiled a shark-like smile, piercing me with her gaze.

“Now we are properly acquainted. Welcome to GRACE.”

***

The whole way back from the office to my cell passed in a haze. My thoughts circled endlessly around my hopeless situation.

I was now a gladiator. Or what did she call us? A Gracer. That meant I would be participating in death matches, fighting for my life. Fantastic.

I was never a fighter, and you can’t compare childhood scuffles to real slaughter. Now Eddie’s words about the snake pit made sense, and I shuddered at the thought that we were all stuck in this.

When I was finally shoved into my cell, Harper jumped up and rushed over to me.

“How did it go?” she asked anxiously.

I gave her a suspicious look.

“So you know where I was?”

“I can guess.”

I walked past her and sat on the lower bunk; she settled beside me.

We were silent for a while. I wasn’t sure how much she knew about what Grace had told me, but I didn’t want to ask. I felt terribly tired, and something told me it wasn’t just the sleepless night.

The new prison and my first day in it had simply exceeded all my expectations.

“What did they get you for?” Harper finally broke the silence.

“We burned down a school.” I sighed. It seemed so insignificant now compared to everything that had happened today.

“That’s just… kid stuff.” Harper glanced at me doubtfully.

“We were fourteen. A teacher died in the fire, and a few students were injured, I think. Anyway, they wrote it off as hooliganism with severe consequences.”

“Why did you do it?”

I studied my nails intently, replaying the four-year-old memories in my mind.

“That teacher was a creep,” I began. “First he harassed my friend, then me. Naturally, we tried to report him, but the principal believed the qualified teacher, not a bunch of problem kids from troubled homes. The parents didn’t stick up for us either, so we decided to take matters into our own hands.”

“And you killed him.”

“Well, we overdid it a bit.” I shrugged. “The plan was just to scare him.”

Silence fell again. Harper processed my words, and I decided to give my brain a break and just stared dumbly at the floor.

“Kids are always underestimated,” she sighed. “Everyone’s sure they mess up by accident, but they don’t realize that kids’ plans can be even more cruel and cunning than adults’.”

We looked at each other, and I felt somehow lighter. It had been a long time since I’d talked so openly with anyone outside my core four.

Remembering my friends made me slump again. For a moment, I’d even forgotten the rift in our friendship that had appeared without my consent. Now, I was determined to fix things. Since we were stuck in this shit together, we had to stick together no matter what.

Of course, we were allotted time for fresh air. I was really looking forward to it, to finally get some answers and try to fix the current situation.

***

“Alright, listen up!” a guard yelled as another group was led out after us. “Everyone knows the rules — guys don’t mess with the girls, or it’s solitary! Fighting, causing trouble, anything that looks like disorder to me, is punished by what? That’s right, solitary!”

Harper rolled her eyes, and I was already swiveling my head, searching for the guys. Spotting them in a far corner of the yard, I hurried over.

Eddie was sitting on the back of a bench. Jamie was pacing in front of him, gesturing emphatically with her hands, clearly trying to drill something into his head. From his expression, it was obvious he’d rather escape prison than listen to this tirade, so he jumped up sharply when he saw me rushing over.

Jamie turned and let out a breath.

“Bonnie, we were just talking about you!”

“Where were you?” Eddie asked, sitting back down on the bench back. Harper joined him, while Jamie remained standing.

“Talking with Grace,” I replied.

“Great. And who is that?” Jamie threw her hands up in exasperation.

I froze and looked at Harper and Eddie.

“The warden,” he replied, looking at the ground.

“Wait,” I raised my hands, “So, you weren’t dragged across the prison to her office for a history lesson?”

Jamie looked at me like I was an idiot, and I realized the answer was no. Confusion set in immediately. I thought I could finally get answers out of them, but it turned out they knew less than I did.

I wondered if Jamie even knew what we were supposed to be doing, but then my gaze fell on the bruises on her arms.

“You,” I looked at her, “Have you already… participated?”

She lowered her eyes. Well, at least she knew about that part.

“No,” Eddie answered for her. “The fights are every Friday. Today’s Wednesday. Jamie was transferred on a Friday; no one would throw her to the wolves on her first day.”

It was hard to imagine Jamie as a fighter. She never got her hands dirty; her revenge was always more about elaborate, destructive plans than swinging fists.

Once, she saw a classmate making out with a guy she liked. Don’t get me wrong, no one got their hair pulled. Quite the opposite; Jamie weaseled her way into the girl’s confidence and pretended to be her friend.

One morning they were sitting in the schoolyard, chatting. Jamie was braiding her hair. All was fine, except she was weaving her used chewing gum into the braid along its entire length. Naturally, it caused irreparable damage; they had to cut it all off. The next day, the girl came to school with a boy’s haircut. Jamie got punished, but so what? The guy wasn’t looking at her rival anymore.

There were plenty of similar instances of Jamie’s retribution. Crossing her was never a good idea. It reminded me of Harper’s words about childish cruelty, and now those events seemed incredibly disgusting.

I was still pondering Jamie’s potential participation in the gladiator matches when a girl walking past shoved me roughly with her shoulder, jolting me back to reality.

“Watch where you’re standing!” she snapped with a slight accent.

“I’m standing still!”

“What did you say?” She cracked her neck from side to side and moved toward me. I turned to face her.

She was shorter but stockier, with dark skin and her hair in many short cornrows.

“Back off, Bianca!” Harper shouted, but the girl just shot her a look and returned her attention to me.

“You’re the new girl. Know your place!” Bianca snarled.

I smirked, and her snarl faded.

“Enough. Move along,” Jamie said calmly, but I could see she was tense.

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you!”

Have I mentioned my issues with uncontrollable aggression? No? Well, I’ve always supported the idea of resolving conflicts verbally. But, you know, supporting and adhering are two different things. Unfortunately, I’m a terrible diplomat because rage starts boiling in me at the beginning of any conflict, and it gets harder to control each time.

This case was no exception. The situation stopped being amusing. I felt the familiar veil descending over my eyes. And a second later, I lunged at the girl, knocking her off her feet.

5

A rumble of voices filled the yard. Some were shouting words of support, others were yelling for us to stop. But I had no intention of stopping; everything was swimming before my eyes. Bianca clearly hadn’t expected such a reaction and was flustered, shielding herself with her hands. I hit her in the face with my fist and gave her a good shake. When she finally came to her senses, she kneed me in the side, the impact echoing with a dull pain.

I hit her in the face again, this time with my elbow. Blood gushed from her nose. Stunned, she grabbed for my neck, but strong arms suddenly wrapped around me and yanked me out of her grip. I kicked my legs, even catching her outstretched arm. She howled.

“Calm down!” a familiar voice shouted in my ear. I froze as Tucker dragged me over to a bench.

I spun around and threw my arms around his neck, ignoring the pain in my side.

“I’m so glad to see you!” I squealed, holding him tight. He hugged me back, even tighter than I was hugging him — I didn’t think that was possible.

“I knew it was you the moment I saw the fight,” he smirked, pulling away.

He had hardly changed at all. His brown eyes, which used to remind me of a teddy bear’s, now seemed faded, the old fire gone. The nest of chestnut hair on his head was the same as ever. But now his face was adorned with a scar above his upper lip and a couple of smaller ones on his left cheekbone. The sight made me sick to my stomach — how much had this month here worn him down? And what did that mean for Jared?

Firmly gripping his hand, I squeezed it a few times, telling him I was here and ready to share his pain if he needed me.

He pressed his lips together in understanding, but before he could say a word, guards instantly swooped in, grabbing me from both sides. I tried to break free, but they twisted my arms behind my back.

“You’ll settle your problems in the arena!” the overseer who had approached us screamed.

Bianca was also pulled to her feet, but her hands weren’t bound.

“She’s new. Let her go,” Harper intervened, stepping up next to us.

The guard brushed her off like a pesky fly.

“And then what? The rules are the same for everyone!”

“She didn’t know the rules. Let her off for the first time.”

“Didn’t know? I was screaming them not ten minutes ago, for God’s sake!”

He measured me with a furious glare. I tried to look pitiful, but it clearly didn’t work very well, because the overseer grabbed me by the scruff of my neck, forcing me to look at him.

“No one makes a mess on my turf, understand?” he hissed. I could feel his breath on my face and forced myself to nod.

He shifted his gaze to the guards holding me.

“Solitary.”

Amid the sounds of outrage and indignation from my friends, the guards dragged me toward the entrance. I took one last look back at the guys, but my eyes met ones the color of a stormy sky. So familiar that my heart involuntarily beat faster.

Jared was standing a little apart from the others, looking at me as if he was surprised to see me here.

I wanted to shout something, to show him how much I’d missed him, how much I wanted to talk to him, but a lump rose in my throat. I just trudged along helplessly after the guards, unable to tear my eyes away from him.

When they finally led me into the building and the door closed behind us, it was like I was snapped out of a trance. I turned to face the guards, who were still shackling my hands. It suddenly dawned on me what had just happened.

***

The solitary cell was a room, fairly spacious but completely empty. The only thing I was granted was an old mattress on the floor; the dim light bred melancholy. The prospect of spending the night here was not appealing, and I had already cursed my inability to control myself about fifty times.

“How long do I have to sit here?” I asked as a guard approached to remove the handcuffs.

“You’ll sit until I tell you to come out!” the second one shouted from the doorway.

I let out an irritated sigh. The guard standing in front of me gave me a sympathetic look.

When I was left alone, I rubbed my wrists absently after the handcuffs. My breath formed clouds. I had no idea what the temperature was, but in my once-white t-shirt, gray prison pants, and boots, I felt like I was at the North Pole.

Sitting down on the mattress, I stared blankly at the door for a while.

A good amount of time passed before they brought me my dinner. Being incredibly hungry, I pounced on the food without even figuring out what it was. Thank God, to my delight, it was buckwheat with a sausage. Not much, but still better than the slop they called porridge this morning. I emptied the plate in five minutes and leaned back on the mattress, satisfied.

I tossed and turned for half the night, my teeth chattering from the cold, a million thoughts racing through my head at lightning speed. I thought about Tucker, about how the look in his eyes had changed. I thought about Jamie, who was nervously awaiting her first fight. Eddie, who was taking the situation we’d gotten into with incredible calm. Most of all, my thoughts revolved around Jared, his surprised look at the sight of me. I was bursting with the desire to know what he was thinking at that moment, or even what he was thinking now.

With all these thoughts, I didn’t notice sleep creeping up on me, finally leaving this day behind.

They kept me in solitary for about twenty-four hours. When I finally got out, it was already the next morning. The first thing they did was send me to the showers. It was the best gift for someone who hadn’t showered for a day.

Under the relatively hot water, I started to feel better. Thank God the showers were empty — everyone was at breakfast now.

I was eager to find out what had happened in my absence. I was sure that after my stunt, Tucker, Jamie, and Eddie had managed to talk. At least one part of the plan would be accomplished.

This morning was Friday, which meant I would see a fight for the first time; I was overwhelmed with mixed feelings about it.

After my shower, I went to one of the sinks and finally got to look at myself in the mirror. Well, I definitely looked better than I’d imagined — my lip was split, but overall my face looked pretty fresh. Thanks to my day in the “freezer,” I’d managed to get some decent sleep, so there were no dark circles under my eyes.

Strangely enough, I liked how I looked today; my green eyes, which had always seemed too big to me, were now bright after a good night’s sleep. Thanks to the scrape, my lower lip was swollen and now proportional to the upper one. My light-brown hair seemed dark in the dull light of the showers, but I knew that in the sun I’d be practically blonde.

The guards knocked on the door, hurrying me out. I quickly brushed my teeth with my finger, intending to get my hands on a brush later no matter what, and went out.

This time, they decided not to shackle me, and I was sure they were sending me to my cell. Imagine my surprise when they led me to the cafeteria — it felt like an eternity since I’d been here.

Although only a day had passed, the atmosphere had changed. Everyone was on edge, which I assumed was because of the upcoming fight. Unfortunately, I was still just as clueless about the rules and felt completely out of my depth.

Not spotting my friends in the crowd, I got in line. When I reached the cook, she offered me a choice between horrible porridge and something resembling an omelet. I chose the latter and trudged off dejectedly to find a free table.

Everyone around was excitedly discussing the upcoming event, leaving me with nothing to do but poke at my breakfast with a fork in solitude.

“Look who’s here!” Bianca appeared next to my table, accompanied by some other girl. “How was your rest in solitary?”

I ignored her. I really didn’t need to waste my time on more punishments.

I was just about to cut a piece of my omelet when Bianca, with a sharp movement, knocked the tray with the plate right out from under my nose.

Everything inside me boiled over again. Clenching the fork in my hand, I looked at the girl and was pleased to note that she’d gotten it worse than I had: a bruise on her cheek, her nose still swollen from my punch.

“Get lost,” a calm voice sounded behind me.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it belonged to. A current shot through my body.

“Come on, her and I have personal business,” Bianca hesitated.

Jared put his hand on the table next to me and leaned closer. I didn’t turn, but I felt his breath tickling the hair on the top of my head.

“I don’t like to repeat myself,” he replied over my head. Bianca opened and closed her mouth. Her face showed she was trying not to reveal her fear, but she snorted and left anyway.

I tried to relax and reached for my tray, but Jared knocked it out of my hands again. My heart dropped. I looked up at him in surprise and met his dark eyes, like heavy storm clouds. Our faces were mere centimeters apart. I looked into his eyes, but there wasn’t a hint of the old warmth with which he used to look at me.

“Is it really so hard to keep your head down?” he growled, not taking his intense gaze off me. It felt like if he could, he’d burn a hole right through my head with his stare.

I was silent. I had no idea what to say to him. I had waited for our meeting for so long, and I just couldn’t believe that the person in front of me now was my best friend. I had to gather all the remnants of my composure and force out an innocent smile:

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

It was supposed to make him understand that nothing had changed between us, that I still saw my friend in him. That he would laugh now, like he always did when I deliberately played the innocent lamb. But instead, Jared’s lips slowly spread into a menacing smirk, his eyes gleaming maliciously. That look made me uneasy; I could feel all my feigned confidence melting away.

“Careful, Bonnie. I might take that as a challenge.”

A wave of heat washed over my body, my chest tightened. I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat to breathe evenly. He was looking at me as if I were his prey, as if he could calmly wring my neck and keep on smiling. With every second, he looked less and less like my Jared.

“What happened to you?” I forced out. The muscles in his jaw twitched. He moved closer, forcing me to lean back, and suddenly, it was like a switch had been flipped. An innocent smile appeared on his face.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mimicked me, all while flashing that mad look in his eyes, and rose to his feet.

“Remember!” he threw at me before leaving. “Keep your head down.”

6

For the rest of breakfast, I sat staring into my plate. None of the guys showed up, so I assumed they had eaten earlier. I also remembered Jamie saying Tucker was one of the last to eat, and since I hadn’t run into him, a small hope sparked inside me that he had breakfast with the others. At least then my time in solitary wouldn’t have been completely useless.

The conversation with Jared had killed my appetite, but I needed strength, so I forced myself to eat at least some of the omelet.

The walk from the cafeteria to the cell seemed to last an eternity. I was dying to talk to Harper and get the news from her, but the guard, as if on purpose, walked slowly; I even had to step on his heels a couple of times to get him to move.

“Hey, street fighter!” Harper exclaimed when I got to the cell. “How were your vacation in solitary?”

I rolled my eyes and gave a demonstrative clap.

“Just wonderful! I’ll definitely be going back there next weekend.”

We laughed, and I managed to distract myself for a moment from the awful episode in the cafeteria, which still echoed with a pain in my heart.

“So, are you ready for tonight?” Harper asked after a slight pause. I didn’t immediately understand what she meant, but when it dawned on me, I sighed dejectedly and sat down on the bunk.

“I’d attend this event with great pleasure if no one had to die at the end.”

“Sooner or later, you’ll get used to it,” Harper gave a strained smile and settled next to me.

“I doubt it.”

We sat like that for a while. Harper told me that Tucker had indeed spent yesterday with them, but according to her, he barely spoke, constantly lost in his own thoughts. One thing was clear — Harper didn’t have much fondness for Tucker.

She also gave me the names of those fighting today; none were familiar, which made going to tonight’s execution a little easier.

When they came to take us to lunch, I refused. I needed to think. I wasn’t ready to run into the new Jared again, even though I really wanted to see my friends.

Harper was about to stay too, but the overseer roared and “kindly” informed us that if we continued to act up, we wouldn’t eat for a week. So, I claimed a headache and asked Harper to tell the guys I was okay.

Climbing onto my bunk, I let the tears flow for the first time in a long while. We only had a year left to sit through; I was sure we could handle it, but now my confidence was shaken.

“Hopefully, no teeth will be flying today?” one of the guards smirked, removing my handcuffs at the yard entrance. Naturally, I wasn’t going to let the jab slide, but when I looked up at him, I noticed he wasn’t really trying to provoke me. I recognized him immediately; he was one of the guards who had taken me to solitary.

And I remembered him only because he was one of the few who was more or less decent to me. He looked about thirty, definitely not older, with skin the color of coffee with milk and a dark, almost invisible buzz cut. I had to admit, he looked pretty hot for a guard.

Smirking, I raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Wagner!” the guard behind me yelled. “Get away from the girl, now!”

I followed the guard’s gaze just as the guy guiltily threw his hands up.

“Relax, Doc!” he smiled. “We’re just talking.”

He lowered his hands and switched his attention back to the girl, giving her a cocky smile. I was about to turn away when the girl turned in my direction, and I recognized Jamie, who was clearly irritated by her interlocutor.

He grabbed her by the arm and said something, making her spin around sharply.

I reflexively moved towards them, but a hand landed on my shoulder. Turning, I met the gaze of the same guard.

“Easy now,” he stopped me, slowly enunciating each word as if talking a small child out of doing something stupid. “What’s with the urge to start throwing punches right away?”

I stayed silent while the gears in my head spun furiously.

How could I help Jamie? This guy clearly outmatched both of us in strength.

“Wagner!” the guard beside me roared again. “You and Castle missing solitary already?”

I froze, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and looked back at the guard I was talking to.

“He said Castle?” I asked, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.

“Yeah, Jared Castle. Why?”

I put on an indifferent face and shrugged. The pounding of my heart echoed in my ears, but I tried not to show it.

“Just an interesting surname. Who is he?”

I knew I was risking a lot by questioning the guard. Sure, he was lenient with me, but that didn’t necessarily mean his patience extended to inquisitive conversations.

The guard stared at me intently for a minute, apparently trying to figure out my motive, but I was trying so hard to look relaxed that he apparently failed to find a catch.

“Just your average troublemaker,” he finally answered. “Though he gets away with everything.”

“Why?”

“Some people have privileges here.” He gave a mysterious smile and, before I could ask another question, turned to another inmate.

And so, a new seed of confusion was planted in my mind.

I wandered distractedly across the yard, staring ahead. Thoughts spun in my head like a demonic carousel; no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t piece them all together.

“Bonnie!” Jamie called out to me. I lifted my head and saw the same guy still hovering near her.

“Hey,” I greeted her, walking over to them.

“Hey there, Jackie Chan,” the guy smirked, then gave me a bow and extended his hand. “I’m Travis.”

For a moment, I just stared dumbly at his outstretched hand. I had the feeling I was acting in some sitcom where everyone knew the script except me.

Travis was the epitome of a bad boy; his short, light-brown hair was swept to one side, and brown eyes peeked out from under thick brows, one of which had a shaved stripe. This whole sloppy look was accentuated by tattoos visible on his hands and a roguish little smile.

“Bonnie,” I shook his hand, and he smiled, showing all thirty-two teeth.

“Oh, I know who you are.”

I looked questioningly at Jamie; she shot me a look that said she had nothing to do with it. Travis glanced somewhere to the side and nodded. I didn’t even need to follow his gaze to know who he had exchanged looks with. I acutely felt Jared’s gaze on me but diligently ignored the urge to turn around.

“We actually have to go,” I nudged Jamie towards the benches. She gratefully grabbed my arm. Travis muttered something and moved in the direction of his new buddy.

“God,” Jamie exhaled, “I thought he’d never leave me alone.”

“What did he want from you?”

“The usual, making ambiguous hints.”

“He’s kinda cute,” I gave her a smirk to break the tension emanating from both of us.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make him any smarter,” Jamie cut me off. We looked at each other and laughed.

The problems we needed to solve were piling up, but I was glad that my friendship with Jamie was safe and we could still laugh at stupid boys, even in prison.

***

“Darryl or Warner?” Eddie asked playfully, nudging Tucker with his shoulder. Tucker didn’t answer, but I noticed his attempt to hide a smile.

Eddie’s energy was infectious. He was the only one of us who had kept his sense of humor here, which was undoubtedly a huge plus for us, especially for Tucker, who seemed to grow gloomier by the second.

Harper and I joined them, and I could finally see the scale of the tragedy. The so-called arena was far less majestic than I had imagined.

The ring itself was nothing more than a medium-sized stone platform, around which spectators were crowding. The platform came up to my nose, so to see the fighters, I’d have to crane my neck; Tucker and Eddie were luckier in that regard.

Above the ring, attached to a metal beam, hung a dark screen. The whole thing reminded me more of an underground fight club than the gladiator battles Grace had talked about.

“And where are the spectators?” I asked, looking around the hall. “Grace said the tickets sell out instantly.”

I immediately noticed the hall was filled with inmates and guards; no outsiders were visible, nor were there any other viewing areas to watch the fight from.

“Bonnie,” Harper began, raising an eyebrow. “It’s the 21st century. You live in the age of technology. It’s all streamed live online.”

She pointed at the wall, and I noticed a small camera in the corner and a few more on other walls. And then it all clicked into place when I remembered the surveillance monitors in the warden’s office.

We were in a reality show. Wonderful.

“Besides, it’s safer this way,” Harper concluded.

I gave her a puzzled look.

“No one gets stained with blood,” Eddie commented, putting a hand on my shoulder. I winced, picturing it.

Suddenly, it hit me that Jamie still hadn’t shown up. I scanned the hall several times but didn’t spot her white ponytail anywhere.

Harper suggested she’d been brought through another entrance and, lost in the crowd, was watching the fight from the other end of the hall. But I didn’t feel any better, especially after Jared’s new buddy had been hovering around her earlier.

“I’m going to find her,” I started forward, but music filled the hall, and the crowd around us cheered joyfully. A guy jumped into the ring; at first, I thought he was one of the fighters. He wore a simple white t-shirt that contrasted sharply with his dark skin and worn-out jeans. The only things setting him apart from us were the dark sunglasses and a black baseball cap.

The guy raised a megaphone, and the hall exploded with thousands of shouts again.

He bounced around the improvised stage, greeting the crowd. The people around answered him with joyful screams and waved their hands. I felt even more uncomfortable than before. I couldn’t believe people were supporting this circus.

My hands clenched into fists. I looked at the crowd with contempt until my gaze stumbled upon Jared. With a bored look, he stood in a far corner, watching the whole bacchanal. Next to him, I noticed a couple of other guys, equally calm and uninterested. As I suspected, Travis wasn’t with them, which meant he was bothering Jamie again.

A loud sound, like a gong, made me flinch. The noise and voices instantly died down. A door on the opposite side of the hall opened, and a guy appeared on the threshold, escorted by two guards.

“Let’s welcome Neil Darryl!” the host shouted. The hall erupted again in screams and applause, the crowd parting to make way for Neil.

He walked with his head held high, his gaze fixed straight ahead — he clearly wasn’t interested in the crowd’s supportive cheers. His goal was the ring, and he walked straight towards it, ignoring the surrounding noise.

I watched, mesmerized — there wasn’t a trace of fear in his eyes, not a single muscle was tense. He walked relaxed, yet majestically. This probably wasn’t his first fight; he’d likely had enough of them to approach this with cold blood.

Tucker pulled me closer to him, just as the door behind me opened, letting in the next fighter.

7

Unlike his rival, Matt Warner was only trying to appear carefree, yet he still flinched nervously with every slap on the back from the fans. He was a bit larger than Neil, but when they stood facing each other, Matt’s build clearly did nothing to improve his odds.

Neil was looking at him like a boa constrictor looks at a rabbit; that gaze alone sent shivers all over my body. I could only imagine what Matt was feeling in that moment.

“I’m definitely for Darryl,” Eddie muttered, not taking his eyes off the ring. Harper and Tuck did not share his enthusiasm.

Tucker was anxiously gnawing on his fingernail, and Harper was gloomily scanning the crowd. Both of them, like me, were not happy to be here.

A loud bang announced the start of the fight, and Tucker yanked me back again as the entire hall began jumping up and down, chanting the names of their favorites.

Neil was like a hawk; without breaking eye contact, he slowly circled his opponent. I hoped Matt would lunge first, or at least try to defend himself somehow, but it seemed he had written off his chances the moment he saw his rival.

All he did was shake his head every time Neil passed behind him. It was a pitiful sight, like a trapped little animal trying to find an escape route.

Neil paused for a moment, and Matt, seeing an opening, rushed at him. But it was no use. Daryl intercepted him halfway, wrapping an arm around his neck. Falling to his knees, Matt clawed at his opponent’s arm, which, like a boa constrictor, tightened its grip with every resistance.

I saw the panic ignite in Warner’s eyes, how he gasped frantically for air, desperately trying to break free, but Neil was relentless.

It was unbearable to watch. Neil’s face was impenetrable, but his arm was so tense you could see every vein as he tightened the deadly ring around Matt’s neck.

I jerked forward and flinched when someone in the crowd bumped me with their shoulder. Looking up, I immediately locked eyes with Jared at the opposite end of the hall.

He was giving me a warning look, his last words echoing in my head:

Keep your head down.

A desire to do something to piss him off stirred inside me, but I pushed the thought away, shooting him a look that told him to go to hell.

Jared narrowed his eyes, jerked in my direction. I flinched and stumbled back, trying to lose myself in the crowd as quickly as possible.

I needed to figure out how to react to his presence. Try to see my best friend in his face, or just accept his new persona as a complete asshole.

Lost in the crowd, I realized finding Tuck and Eddie was now a tall order. Pushing through the mob of rowdy inmates, I tried to find just one spot where I could catch my breath.

I was shoved forward again, and I nearly introduced my nose to a stone ledge, right at the moment when Matt Warner’s lifeless body dropped right in front of my face.

The wind was knocked out of me. I froze in place, unable to tear my eyes away from Matt’s glassy blue ones.

I’d never seen a dead body before. Black dots danced before my eyes, and I felt nausea rising in my throat. I couldn’t afford to faint; I needed to distract myself. Lifting my head, I met the coal-black eyes of Neil Darryl.

He was standing over his opponent’s body, one foot planted on his chest. His entire face was covered in fine scars, and above his eyebrow, two small words were tattooed in a language I didn’t understand. His face was twisted in a venomous smile; he wanted to say something to me, but the announcer jumped into the ring.

“Let’s hear it for our winner!” he shouted, raising the guy’s arm in the air. “Neil Darryl!”

The hall filled with the sounds of applause and cheers, which quickly turned into a chant of his name.

Someone yanked me back sharply. Turning around, I saw Tuck and let out a sigh of relief.

“What the hell are you doing by the ring?” he swore. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I’m fine! I’m okay!” I babbled, trying to recover from the shock of what I’d seen. In the distance, I noticed Harper and Eddie making their way toward us.

“Look who scored a front-row seat,” Eddie smirked as he reached us. Harper hissed at him angrily and turned a worried look on me.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“You have no idea,” I exhaled.

Eddie rubbed his hands together, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“They’re about to announce who’s fighting next week.”

We all turned toward the ring together. The screen above it lit up with a crossed-out photo of Matt Warner, and then it began to load. The announcer was also looking at the screen, impatiently tapping his foot.

When the first photo loaded, the hall squealed in approval. The face was unfamiliar to me, as was the name — Sam Butler.

The photo showed a fair-haired guy with grey, almost colorless eyes. He looked fairly normal, aside from his icy gaze, but he didn’t seem as frightening as Neil.

The second photo made my heart drop into my heels. Tucker cursed quietly beside me, and I could only stare stupidly at the name, hoping it would disappear.

Eddison Fletcher.

***

I tossed and turned all night, waking up each time convinced it had all been a dream.

After the fight and the announcement of the next opponents, we were all herded back to our cells. Eddie wasn’t cheerful anymore, but he didn’t look scared either; I could literally see the gears turning in his head. He had taken the news with dignity and was now seriously considering his position.

Harper and I stayed silent the whole way to the cell, but once inside, I exploded. All the events of the day crashed down on me at once. I paced the cell back and forth, constantly searching for possible outcomes. Harper listened to my tirade without interrupting once, and then let me cry on her shoulder for half the night.

In the morning during the shower, I stalled in front of the mirror, examining my tattoo. The pain had subsided, but the skin around the design was still red. This brand would remind me of my prison past for the rest of my life — if I even lived to see my release, that is.

The image of Eddie popped into my head again. What if he couldn’t handle it? What if he lost and we never saw each other again? I was distracted from these awful thoughts by Harper, who walked over, drying her dark hair with a towel, deep in thought about something.

“Tell me about the other guy,” I asked, untangling my wet hair.

“Nothing much to tell,” Harper shrugged. “He hasn’t done anything remarkable here, so the odds are probably on Eddie.”

“And did he…” I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Did he kill anyone?”

“He’s had a couple of fights, but his opponents were weaklings.”

“And you?” I asked. “Have you killed anyone?” Harper froze, giving me a significant look. I couldn’t decipher it, but before she could answer, a guard appeared in the doorway.

“Alright, girls, out!” he announced.

We quickly grabbed our prison uniforms, got dressed, and left the showers.

I mulled over the information I’d gotten. Eddie definitely wasn’t weak; we got into scrapes without fear of getting hurt, and he almost always came out with just a few scratches. In the juvenile colony, he was accepted immediately after he broke some tough guy’s nose. I didn’t see it, as I was in the girls’ wing, but Jared told me about it.

The guard snapped his fingers twice in front of my face for me to raise my arms, and after I was freed from the handcuffs, he cursed and shoved me into the hall. Not waiting for Harper, I headed straight for the food.

The cook ladled some kind of hideously appetizing dish onto my plate again.

“What is this?” I asked, not hiding the expression on my face.

“Stew.”

“Is that brain?” I poked the spoon at a white lump.

“It’s cauliflower, you idiot!” the cook grumbled and gestured for me to get lost.

Sitting down at an empty table, I gave my breakfast another sad look. Well, if I picked out the pieces that looked like vegetables, it wasn’t all that bad.

I poked around my plate for about ten minutes before someone sat down next to me. Looking up, I thought I’d see Harper, but it was Jamie.

“Where were you yesterday?” I asked as she fiddled with her tray.

“Got lost,” Jamie shrugged. “It was such a crush.”

“Were you alone?”

Jamie raised her blue eyes to me and arched her eyebrows.

“Of course, who else would I be with?”

I went back to picking at my cauliflower, trying to find the right words, but since I’ve always been bad at expressing my thoughts delicately, I just blurted out everything I was thinking:

“Travis was bothering you again, wasn’t he? I didn’t see him with Jared, so I thought he was somewhere hassling you.”

“Bonnie,” Jamie raised her hands placatingly. “Relax, Travis wasn’t with me. Well, I saw him, but I hid, so he didn’t find me.”

I gave a strained smile. This strange relationship undoubtedly worried me, but I was glad that at least yesterday Jamie hadn’t been alone with that psycho, otherwise I’d feel even worse.

“You know that Eddie…”

“Yes.”

“We have to do something.” I pushed my fork away, clasped my hands, and rested my head on them.

“And what can we do?” Jamie asked, surprised. “This fight can’t be avoided.”

I straightened up, clenched my hands into fists, gave Jamie a stern look, and got up from the table.

“I’ll think of something!”

8

The following week began with a development; on Monday morning before breakfast, a guard showed up and kindly reminded me that I wasn’t at a resort, and therefore had to start the work assigned to the inmates.

At the old colony, we were supposed to go to school — a place, I’ll tell you, that was just so-so, but at least that school wasn’t segregated by gender, so we could talk to the guys face-to-face, and not through a wire fence in the exercise yard.

Here, however, the inmates were provided with work, for which they received meager, but still, a few pennies. The guys were put to work in the garage as mechanics, repairing police vehicles. Some got work in the blocks that were under renovation. To my great disappointment, the girls didn’t have such a wide choice; we were offered work in the laundry.

No matter how hard I tried to convince the guards that I’d make a decent mechanic, the choice they gave me was even less appealing: either the laundry or cleaning the grounds. In the end, I ended up in the laundry.

Every single shift, I stared into the spinning drums of the washing machines, foretelling the coming Friday and its possible outcomes.

Tucker took it upon himself to train Eddie, and now every day during yard time, when neither of them was busy with work, they hung out together on the makeshift workout area, which consisted of just a couple of pull-up bars.

I avoided Jared at every opportunity, but I still sometimes caught his eye in the cafeteria, receiving a scorching glare in return, or, if he was in a good mood — a malicious smirk.

On Wednesday evening, when my shift in the laundry ended, I was led to the yard for exercise. The friendly guard was already waiting for me at the exit; we hadn’t seen each other since Friday evening, and today his usual little smile was absent.

I cheerfully raised my hands so he could unchain my handcuffs; I was in a good mood, so I missed his usual jokes about knocking out the teeth of anyone who bothered me. He gave a strained smile at my remark and freed me from the cuffs.

“I heard about your friend,” he whispered, and my smile instantly died. He didn’t continue, but his look made it clear he was sorry.

Sorry? For what? Eddie can handle that guy in a minute.

Still, his words planted a seed of doubt in my soul. My mind was once again flooded with ideas for possible ways out of the situation, and without answering, I headed deeper into the yard.

Eddie and Tuck were at the workout area again, and I, deciding not to bother them, went looking for Jamie. She was walking along the fence with Harper, chatting cheerfully about something, until Travis materialized in their path.

I was far away and couldn’t hear what he said to them, but Jamie’s pursed lips and Harper’s irritated look made me quicken my pace.

“Piss off, Wagner,” Harper hissed. “Or I’ll call the guards.”

I had walked up to them and was now standing behind Travis. He was a head taller than me and noticeably broader, so the girls behind him didn’t even notice me.

“What’s the problem?” I asked calmly, though a familiar feeling was already stirring inside me, making my blood boil.

Travis turned around, pretending he’d heard something, but then looked down and “suddenly” saw me.

“Oh, if it isn’t our young boxer,” he exclaimed, theatrically clapping his hands. I shot him my most sarcastic look, which made him laugh, and he switched his attention back to Jamie, who had appeared beside me.

Travis reached out, hooking his fingers around a strand of her fair hair, and she sharply slapped his hand away. Her brown eyes flashed a warning. He took a confident step toward her but stopped when I blocked his path.

Of course, it was stupid; making a pancake out of me would have been no trouble for him, but in such states, my self-preservation instinct was happily waving me goodbye.

“What’s your problem?” I asked sullenly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Back off, Don Corleone. I promised not to touch you, but my patience won’t last forever.”

“What?” I asked, bewildered. His smile vanished; he realized he’d said too much, but the puzzle pieces were already clicking into place in my head.

My fury flared up with renewed force. I pursed my lips and, throwing my hands up, shoved Travis in the chest.

“Go on then,” I hissed. “Take me to your buddy!”

“Bonnie,” Harper started. “What are you doing?”

“He’s forbidden to touch me? Fine, then I’ll touch you myself, and your *master* along with you!” I blurted out, jabbing my finger into the guy’s shoulder. “Take me! Or are you afraid of upsetting daddy?”

Travis got a grip on himself and, grabbing me sharply by the sleeve of my prison shirt, dragged me toward the distant benches. My legs were tangling, but I still tried to walk straight. I heard footsteps behind me from Harper and Jamie; they were running after us. I turned to them and shook my head warningly. Jamie stopped. Harper transferred a bewildered look from her to me, but didn’t go any further either.

“Someone here is very eager for an audience with my master,” Travis announced sarcastically, emphasizing the word “master” and shoving me forward.

I stumbled but quickly straightened up, putting on an unflappable expression. My body betrayed me by reacting to Jared’s presence, and I mentally kicked myself.

He was sitting on the back of a bench, playing cards with a guy I didn’t know.

He didn’t bat an eyelid at Travis’s remark, but he reluctantly tore himself away from his game. The moment our eyes met, his gaze turned murderous. I shivered, hoping it was from the cold.

“What the hell did you bring her here for?” Jared growled, drilling into me with his eyes.

“She brought me,” Travis shrugged, clearly amused by the situation. Jared straightened up and now resembled a king sitting on his throne.

My heart ached with the desire to touch him, but I couldn’t show weakness, so I gathered the remnants of my composure and looked him boldly in the eye.

“What do you want?” Jared’s icy voice made me flinch. “Didn’t I ask you to stay out of things? What the hell are you doing, hassling my friend?”

“I wouldn’t have to if your so-called friend would get off my friend’s back.”

Jared narrowed his eyes and smirked. My nervousness evaporated, giving way to irritation.

“Why can’t your friend handle her own problems?”

His question threw me off balance. I hadn’t thought he’d react so flippantly, after all, Jamie was his friend too.

“I stand by my friends to the end,” I grated out. “Unlike some.”

Jared tensed. The smirk slid off his face, his nostrils flared. He slowly rose to his feet. I took a barely perceptible step back, trying to keep my expression calm.

“Why don’t you just piss off?” he hissed, coming right up to me. I felt his breath on my face and my mask of composure cracked.

Hesitating, I almost showed him how much his proximity affected me.

“Why are you so nervous?” I asked mockingly.

The best defense is a good offense. If he kept pressing in on me with his presence, I’d break, so I had to press back.

“Afraid your new friends might find out about your feelings?” I continued.

His face stretched in surprise, devilish lights danced in his eyes, and he laughed — so harshly and viciously that it simply knocked the ground out from under me.

“About my feelings? For you?”

I stared in confusion as he threw years of our friendship back in my face. I probably looked like a puppy being abandoned on the street. But I didn’t care; hurt was already clouding my vision. Without thinking what I was going to do, I raised my hand and slapped him.

His head jerked to the side. He froze; I could see his ragged breathing. Behind him, Travis and the other guy tensed, ready to jump to his defense.

Jared slowly turned his head back. Fury surged in his eyes like a tsunami. I didn’t have time to react when he abruptly grabbed me by the collar of my shirt with both hands, practically lifting me off the ground, and shook me so hard I saw stars.

“Castle, let her go!” came the voice of the familiar guard from the crowd.

Jared kept drilling into me with his insane gaze, but suddenly his face split into a sarcastic smile.

“Of course,” he whispered understandingly, scanning my face.

“I didn’t call him.”

“I don’t care.”

I heard the sound of approaching footsteps; probably Jamie and Harper had called him for help. Jared let go of my collar and began to smooth it out carefully. For a second, I thought we were back in school, but then he looked me in the eyes, and everything inside me turned over at the steel in his gaze.

“Up until now, I tried to stay away from you,” he said, still smoothing my collar. “But from now on, you won’t get a single peaceful day here.”

It was like being doused with ice water. I was bewildered, could only stare into his eyes, trying to find my friend there — the boy I’d been inseparable from — but he wasn’t there.

“I’ll be waiting with anticipation,” I said mechanically, still reeling from our confrontation, but I didn’t want the guards breaking us up, so I took two small steps back, not taking my eyes off Jared, then turned and walked toward my worried friends.

“It’s fine, we were just talking,” I said calmly to the guard as I approached. Jamie and Harper stood behind him; their faces showed they didn’t believe me. The guard looked at me with concern, apparently waiting for me to break down in tears or show some emotion, but my face remained impassive.

“Don’t worry,” he said, escorting me and Harper to the building entrance. “He won’t come near you again.”

I watched as another guard snapped the handcuffs onto my wrists.

“I doubt it,” I muttered under my breath.

9

12 years ago.

Today, I got an important role in our operation. I had to climb into Mr. Owens’s yard and swipe his toolbox. Since I was the only girl in our neighborhood gang, if I got caught, I could easily pretend to be lost.

Tucker said that girls were the perfect cover for such mischief, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at his words.

Mr. Owens’s backyard was always a complete mess because he was constantly fixing his bike. Every single day, he’d wake up the whole neighborhood with the roar of its engine. The yard was littered with spare parts, tools, and other junk that any normal person would’ve thrown out long ago.

This place was our goldmine, allowing us to stock up on ammunition for when the kids from the next block would come to take over our playground — if you could even call it that. It mostly resembled a pile of metal from broken swings, but we cherished it — it was our base.

I slowly crept up to the wire fence and looked around. Mr. Owens was nowhere in sight, and I didn’t notice any movement in the windows either. Tucker and the other boys were hiding behind a nearby pickup truck, ready to back me up at a moment’s notice.

I took off my red baseball cap and stuffed it into the pocket of my overalls, so I wouldn’t look like a boy at all.

Placing one foot on the fence, I tried to swing my other leg over, but the fence was wobbly, I lost my balance, and tumbled down to the other side. The height wasn’t great, so I wasn’t hurt, but the noise I made was probably significant.

“Bonnie?” came a whisper from under the truck. “You okay over there?”

I sat up and looked around — all clear, no one came running out at the noise. I shifted my gaze to Tak’s shaggy head poking out and gave him a thumbs-up. Then I started crawling on my belly, searching for the necessary “weapons”.

The toolbox was near the porch; to get to it, I had to crawl across the entire yard. Naturally, I got tangled in fishing nets a couple of times and stumbled into puddles of motor oil before I noticed the curtain in the first-floor window twitch.

I quickly dashed towards the motorcycle and ducked under it, just as Owens stuck his head out and swiveled it from side to side.

My ears were ringing, I was so scared, but at the same time, I felt like clapping my hands with joy.

When the window closed, I peeked out from my hiding spot and, after checking the coast was clear, started crawling toward my target again.

Grabbing the case, I was so thrilled with my victory that on the way back I completely forgot about caution until a siren-like sound blared across the yard.

I looked down at my feet and noticed I was standing on a bicycle horn.

Fear washed over me in a huge wave, paralyzing me.

The door behind me flew open. I turned around and saw the neighbor; in one hand he was clutching a beer bottle, and in the other he was holding a huge Doberman by the collar. Seeing me, the dog erupted into loud barks.

What do I do? He won’t believe me if I say I’m lost, not with his case in my hands and myself covered in dirt.

“You little brat!” the man barked and started towards me, tossing the bottle aside. I backed away, but tripped and fell on my back. The case opened and its entire contents spilled out onto me.

“Bonnie!” Tuck yelled, running up to the fence. “Over here, quick!”

I sprang up from the ground as if on springs, snatched a few screwdrivers that had fallen out of the case, and sprinted towards the fence.

Behind me, Owens was cursing a blue streak. I could hear the dog barking, getting closer and closer. Don’t look back. I ran with all my might, practically vaulting over the fence. Tucker caught me and we both tumbled to the ground. Still feeling like a spring, I grabbed my friend’s hand, and we hurried to get the hell out of there as fast as we could.

***

I don’t know how long we ran for, but the place we ended up in was unfamiliar to us. The other guys had abandoned me as soon as they saw the homeowner on the porch, and Tuck had to rescue me all by himself, just like he always did.

The sun was already setting, painting the sky in bright colors. We slowly trudged along the houses, examining our acquired trophy: three screwdrivers of different sizes and one wrench. Well, it was better than nothing; I hadn’t risked my life for nothing.

“Strangers on our turf!” a shout came from somewhere nearby.

We both jerked our heads up and looked around. Lights started flickering on around us; it seemed that while we were admiring our new acquisitions, our feet had carried us into enemy territory.

Several kids emerged from the backyard of a house. We definitely weren’t ready for a fight now; there were only two of us, and more than five of them. I squeezed Tuck’s hand, constantly looking around; he was also scanning our surroundings, clutching a screwdriver in his other hand.

Something small landed near my feet. The smell of smoke and gunpowder hit my nose. I shrieked as a loud bang with a flash went off right by my legs.

I always panicked at the sight of fire, and I was even more afraid of explosive things, which is why I never played with firecrackers on New Year’s.

A few more bangs came from behind, and we took off running. Tucker grabbed my hand because fear had frozen me in place so much that I would’ve stayed rooted to the spot if he hadn’t pulled me along.

Behind me, I could hear the sounds of pursuit. Tears were streaming from my eyes. How stupid I was to step on that stupid horn; then we wouldn’t have had to run, and we wouldn’t be here now.

The two of us ran past two houses and rounded a third. Tucker stopped, looked around, and shoved me under a porch at a black entrance. I was so scared I was acting on autopilot; I crawled under the porch and sat down. Tak told me not to come out until he came back for me. I obediently nodded and watched him run across the backyard, searching for a hiding place.

Hugging my knees, I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut as the sound of running feet passed by my hiding spot. But when I opened my eyes, I noticed a pair of legs standing right in front of the porch I was under.

It definitely wasn’t Tucker; he didn’t have sneakers like that. My heart was pounding so loudly I couldn’t hear anything else. They found me. Now he’d toss a firecracker under here and I’d be done for. I hugged myself tighter as the person standing in front of me knelt down. A moment later, I was looking into dark eyes; they were so strange, like clouds before a storm. The boy was looking at me, his head tilted to the side. At first, I thought he was pleased with his catch, but then his face grew serious. I suddenly realized I wasn’t breathing and took a deep gasp.

The boy moved a little closer to me. His black hair was sticking out in all directions. He didn’t look angry, as I had first thought.

“What’s your name?” he asked, so quietly, as if afraid I might scream.

“Bonnie,” I croaked.

He relaxed a little, apparently glad that I wasn’t some lunatic and could actually talk. Then, he slowly reached his hand out toward me. I flinched and pressed myself against the wall. Surely, he was about to throw a firecracker in my face, but his palm opened and turned out to be empty.

“Keep calm, Bonnie,” he said, offering me his hand. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

For a split second, I looked into his eyes, unsure how to react, but then timidly placed my palm in his.

The boy helped me out from under the porch and brushed the dust off me. I inspected him; he was only a little taller than me and seemed to be about my age.

The fear subsided; I felt protected. The boy was looking down at me and smiling.

“My name is Jared,” he said, and offered me his hand again, this time for a handshake. I gave it a firm squeeze, smiling back at him.

***

After we met, Jared forbade his guys from throwing firecrackers at me. I told him everything that had happened and asked him to help me find my friend.

We didn’t find Tucker right away; he had climbed into someone else’s treehouse two houses down. At first, he didn’t believe we were safe and insisted that I had been captured just to lure him out. But for some reason, I was sure that Jared genuinely wanted to be friends with me.

He offered to walk us home, and by the end of the walk, you couldn’t tear the boys apart; they were intently discussing how they would get back at the guys who had left me in the clutches of the crazy neighbor and his dog.

In the following days, I was desperate to go outside like a madwoman, looking forward to meeting Jared again. He accepted us into his gang, and later, we reclaimed our old playground, driving the previous company away.

A month later, we started school together. Even though the school in our district wasn’t the best, according to my mom, we quickly took power among the lower grades and were completely satisfied.

Tucker and Jared ended up in the same class, and I was in a parallel one. Of course, it didn’t interfere with our friendship, but I was still upset that I could only see my friends during breaks. Everything changed when one day, in the girls’ bathroom, I came across a girl, very pretty, like a doll I never had.

She was standing opposite another girl I’d seen before; I think her name was Amanda. She loved showing off her new toys to everyone and was the only one in school who thought she was better than the rest. Naturally, this annoyed me.

But retribution came for her sooner than I had planned. The blonde girl stood in front of her with a fake smile, applying lipstick to her lips — not with real lipstick, no, but with a black marker inserted into a lipstick tube. I stood in the doorway with a smirk, watching as Amanda, with a confident look, thought she was being made beautiful. When it was over, the girl turned Amanda toward the mirror and announced with satisfaction that this “super trendy” lipstick didn’t smudge. Amid the shrieks and threats of the fleeing Amanda, the girl turned and noticed me. I clapped my hands. She bowed in response, and we laughed together.

That’s how my friendship with Jamie began.

I didn’t really talk to anyone in my class until one fine day, a boy sat down next to me. I was really pissed off about a bad grade and was already scheming in my head about how to get back at the teacher after school.

I didn’t notice my new neighbor right away. Smiling from ear to ear, he handed me a piece of paper. I glanced at him suspiciously but still looked at the paper.

The drawing on it made me laugh — it was our teacher, Mrs. Norbery, smiling with tears in her eyes as a grand piano fell on her.

“Planning to drop a piano on her?” I asked, still laughing.

“Yep,” he grinned. “And finding a piano isn’t a problem; I saw one in the assembly hall.”

We spent the rest of the lesson laughing and exchanging drawings. I felt much better; I wasn’t angry about the bad grade anymore because I had a new friend now.

No one could resist Eddie’s charm, so there weren’t even any debates about him joining our team, unlike with Jamie. After all, Tucker and Jared had assured me that one girl was enough for them.

I, of course, got offended, upset, and… brought Jamie to us anyway, leaving them with no choice but to accept it. And so our perfect team was assembled. Eddie came up with the name “The Uncatchables” for us. We, of course, agreed, but he was the only one who ever called us that.

10

Our Days.

All day, I kept glancing around and flinching at sharp sounds; yesterday’s conversation with Jared was gnawing at me. But, whether fortunately or not, he never showed up. Maybe that was his plan all along? Make me believe he wouldn’t give me any peace, thereby tormenting myself, waiting for the strike, and eventually driving myself crazy. And bingo, mission accomplished.

“Bonnie,” Jamie called, nudging my shoulder. “Are you even listening?”

I flinched and turned to her. We were sitting in the yard, so I couldn’t afford to relax and was constantly swiveling my head.

“Uh… yeah,” I mumbled. “You were saying… something about music.”

Harper and Jamie exchanged a look, then fixed me with irritated stares. I shrugged and gave them a guilty smile.

“I was saying,” Jamie began, “that the one thing this place needs most is music.”

I nodded in agreement, scanning the surroundings again, but Jamie snapped her fingers right in front of my nose, pulling my attention back.

“And Harper said she knows where to get a radio!” my friend concluded triumphantly. That was enough to distract me from my frantic thoughts.

“Seriously?” I shifted my gaze to Harper. “So, where?”

Harper wiggled her eyebrows mysteriously, then, after looking around, leaned her face closer to us.

“There’s this guy here,” she whispered. “He can get anything. But it’ll cost you.”

“Are you serious?” I jumped to my feet. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

“The occasion never came up.”

I was already halfway to somewhere, but I stopped, remembering I didn’t know where to go.

“Will you take me to him?” I muttered absently. Harper rolled her eyes and got up.

Of course, I wasn’t interested in the radio; all my thoughts had returned to what I’d been racking my brains over for the past several days.

“You guys go on ahead, I’ll catch up later,” Jamie waved us off, not even looking at us, her mind already somewhere far away.

“I thought you were the one who wanted the radio?” I asked, disbelieving, but she wasn’t listening anymore. Rising from the bench, she headed in the opposite direction.

“What’s with her?” Harper asked.

“Beats me,” I said, watching Jamie’s back until she disappeared into the crowd. Her behavior was starting to baffle me; first, she disappears during the fight, unwilling to explain, and now this.

Harper pinched my arm, pulling me from my thoughts.

I gave a brief nod and followed her.

***

We were standing at the far end of the yard, right by the fence. Harper was looking around, searching for her acquaintance, while I, arms crossed over my chest, was chewing my lower lip impatiently.

“Oh, there he is!” Harper exclaimed, grabbing my hand.

I followed her gaze. A guy was sitting on the small metal bleachers that ran along the wall. It was mid-autumn, getting colder every day, but he didn’t seem bothered; the sleeves of his prison shirt were torn off, turning it into a tank top and revealing arms covered in tattoos.

“Didn’t know Snoop Dogg was locked up,” I quipped.

Harper jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow.

“He calls himself Mickey Mick, but we all just call him Mick.”

I looked back at the guy. He was just reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. A guard materialized beside him instantly. Well, that’s it, he’s done for. Why did his operation have to get busted right when I came for help?

But the guard didn’t arrest him, didn’t even scold him. Instead, he took a cigarette from Mickey, tucked it behind his ear, and helped him light up, clicking a lighter.

“Impressive,” I concluded as the guard returned to his post.

Harper shot me a look and strode forward.

“Hey, Mick!” she called, and he startled, dropping his cigarette.

“Goddammit, Harper,” he yelped, stomping out the butt with his foot. “You can’t just sneak up like that, you know!”

Harper giggled and climbed onto the bleachers next to him.

“We’ve got business for you. This is Bonnie.” She looked at me, and since I was still standing, Harper waved her hand, inviting me to sit. I landed on the other side of Mick and rewarded him with my most charming smile.

“Something tells me I’m not gonna like this,” Mick replied, his eyes shifting suspiciously from me to Harper and back. “What are you two plotting?”

“I heard you can get anything,” I whispered.

“What do you need?”

I pretended to think, then gave him an innocent look and shrugged.

“I need a knife.”

“What?” Mickey raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“What?!” Harper shrieked, stunned.

“Just so you know, I don’t take orders for anything that can send someone to the other side,” Mick interjected. My shoulders slumped. I was frantically running through arguments in my head that could sway him to my side. Harper was staring at me, mouth agape, but her eyes were flashing with anger.

Seriously? Did she really think I was actually interested in a radio or some other nonsense like that?

“What’s the problem?” I asked. “This is a prison.”

“Yeah, but there are already more deaths here than in your average prison,” Mickey spread his hands, stating the obvious.

“Why do you need a knife, Bonnie?” Harper cut in, looking at me questioningly.

I shifted my gaze from one to the other. They were looking at me as if I might start climbing the walls at any moment.

Sighing wearily, I looked straight at Harper.

“I’m not planning to kill anyone. It’s for Eddie.”

Harper’s eyes widened in surprise, and she scrutinized my face, probably trying to figure out if I was serious. Mentally answering her own question, she closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Bonnie, that’s forbidden,” Harper said flatly after a short pause.

“I didn’t see any rulebook around here!” I hissed.

Harper wanted to object but realized I was right. No rules had been discussed, and it was never stated that weapons were forbidden in the fights.

“There’s no actual prohibition,” Mick interjected, breaking up our furious visual duel. “But there is my principle. Like I said, I don’t deliver weapons.”

I sighed in irritation. Just when a brilliant idea seemed to have come to my head, one that could help Eddie win, everything goes to hell because of some stupid principles.

Taking a deep breath, I got a grip and looked confidently at the guy.

“Fine. Then I need a pencil and a sharpener.”

Mickey and Harper stared at me as if I were crazy, waiting for me to laugh and announce it was a joke, but they were disappointed.

“And what are you going to do with them?” Mickey asked incredulously.

“Draw, of course,” I smirked. “What else?”

Mickey squinted and pursed his lips, trying to detect a subtext in my words. Harper, meanwhile, was looking at the sky, shaking her head in resignation.

“Well, alright then,” Mickey finally answered. “I guess it’s none of my business anyway.”

***

“You can’t fool me,” Harper grumbled as we walked toward the entrance of the main building. Five minutes ago, the guards had announced the end of yard time and ordered us to line up at the entrance.

Mickey and I had agreed that my request would cost no more than five cents, and since I had a job, however small, I could afford such an insignificant purchase.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, smiling innocently.

She looked like she was ready to kick my ass right then and there, but just then, Eddie’s golden mop of hair appeared in the line.

“Ladies,” he crooned, hugging us. “Miss me?”

“Yes, sir,” I played along, hanging on his neck. Harper, squinting at first, watched us, but her tension finally eased and she smiled, hugging Eddie back.

The mood was wonderful. For the first time since I’d gotten here, I felt happy. That was all Eddie. You look at him and you want to laugh; he affects people like sunshine. And he totally doesn’t fit in here, even though he’s the only one who can disperse the clouds gathering over this place.

“How’s the training going?” Harper asked, glancing at me.

“Everything’s great,” Tucker announced, walking up to us. “He’s a hammer!”

I beamed, seeing him smile for the first time in a long while, the first time since we’d met here. I ruffled his hair, and he planted a kiss on the top of my head. Everything was like it used to be, as if that awful week had never happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Harper glancing at Tucker. Before this, I thought they didn’t get along; I don’t even remember them exchanging a single word. But now she was looking at him with a mixture of surprise and relief. As if she were seeing him for the first time. She probably had never seen him smile at all.

Tucker looked at her, and she hastily averted her eyes.

Well, well. Looks like something interesting is brewing.

11

Friday morning, I was on pins and needles because of the upcoming fight. Harper tried to talk to me a few times during breakfast, but my thoughts kept drifting in a different direction. While on duty in the laundry, I spilled powder several times, and finally, snapping, I sat down and dropped my head onto the table.

In the few days at GRACE, I felt like I’d aged twenty years; I was constantly craving sleep and peace, but something always happened to prevent me from getting either. For nights now, I’d been lying in bed, drilling a hole in the ceiling with my stare, endlessly turning over the events that had happened. Today, for instance, I was thinking about the likelihood of Harper suddenly taking an interest in Tucker, and whether it was even possible to become interested in someone in prison.

I don’t know how long I sat like that, but a sudden sound of a door slamming jerked me out of my trance.

“Are you allowed to sleep on the job?” a mocking voice sounded behind me. I froze, slowly straightening up. I was itching to turn around, but I was afraid of how I might see him now.

“What are you doing here?” I asked without turning. “You’re supposed to be working in the garage.”

Jared placed his hands on either side of me; now the only escape route was under the table, but I dismissed that idea and tried to keep a straight face as he leaned close to my ear.

“Well, you’re supposed to be working here,” he whispered. “Seems we’re both slacking on the rules. Just like the good old days.”

Everything inside me was burning, every nerve in my body was tense as I tried to breathe calmly, staring straight ahead. If I ignore him, he’ll get bored and leave. The main thing is to endure it myself. It’s not hard — just sit. Look anywhere but at him. Don’t react. Simple.

“What’s with you?” he continued, smirking. “You look like you’re about to burst.”

I silently watched the spinning drum of one of the washing machines. He kept breathing slowly and deliberately into my ear; I felt his warm breath on my neck. My head was spinning, but I tried not even to blink, or else he’d think he’d won. I clenched my hands into fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms.

Apparently finally realizing I wasn’t going to answer him, Jared moved away. I let out a barely noticeable sigh, but he suddenly jerked my chair so sharply that I lost my balance and almost hit my head on the table.

Swiveling me to face him, he put a hand on the table and loomed over me threateningly.

“How did you get in here?” I asked, before the train in my heart could break through my ribcage and escape. “Isn’t there any security?”

Jared lowered his eyes and gave a relaxed smile, then slowly crouched down in front of me. Now I was looking down at him and felt a little stronger.

“You see,” he answered, carefully tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, which sent a pang through my chest. “I have privileges here.”

What the hell does that mean? The guard had also told me about some inmates having privileges.

I looked carefully into Jared’s eyes, dark, deep, like a black hole you could never escape from.

“And how did you earn them?” I asked contemptuously, trying to make my voice sound steadier. “By killing people?”

His eyes glinted.

“Don’t look at me like that, Bonnie,” he smiled. “Everyone here goes through it.”

I didn’t answer, continuing to look impassively into his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Jared continued. “I didn’t notice that fact stopping you from hanging all over Tucker yesterday!”

I pressed my lips together. Tucker and I hadn’t discussed his first fight, but I knew for sure he’d had one. It was obvious from the way he sometimes closed off, or from how hard he was trying to prepare Eddie. He hadn’t become like Jared; he hadn’t let it defeat him.

“And you’ll have to do it, sooner or later,” Jared concluded.

“I won’t kill.”

He chuckled under his breath and raised his head, looking at me as if I were a child refusing to understand the obvious.

“You won’t have a choice.” He stroked my cheek. “It’s either you or them.”

I leaned forward until only millimeters separated our faces.

“Then let them kill me,” I said, enunciating every word right against his lips. Jared’s eyes darkened, the smile vanished.

Naturally, I had no intention of dying, and I didn’t really think that way. But the fact that my words angered him couldn’t help but be satisfying.

Silence fell. We looked at each other as if playing a game — the first to look away loses. He lowered his gaze to my lips, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe. Our lips were very close; one more second and they would have touched. But I got a grip and stood up.

I had only taken one step when Jared jumped up, grabbed my arm, and yanked me toward him. Cupping my face in his hands, he covered my mouth with his — rough and quick, painfully biting my lower lip — then shoved me forward.

I slammed into the powder cupboard, hitting my back painfully against a shelf, and fell to the floor. The contents of the cupboard rained down on me; powder got into my nose and mouth, and I coughed, trying to brush it off.

Jared walked over to me and, bending down, clapped his hands in front of my face to get my attention.

“Should’ve washed your mouth out with soap,” he sneered. “Don’t mention it.”

Then he stood up and walked out the door, whistling some tune.

I shook my head, getting another cloud of powder in my face, and irritably kicked a nearby box. Damn him.

***

The guard was insanely happy for another chance to spoil someone’s day with solitary, and my little laundry party earned me a fun twenty-four hours on bread and water. Another point for Jared.

But since today was Friday, and also “fight night,” which required everyone’s attendance, they decided to send me to solitary immediately after the fight.