I RE-posted this cause I changed a lot in the story. Enjoy :)
Prologue
He stood at the window, his hard eyes
scanning the city. A light went out, then another and another. He
turned his gaze to the tall buildings, watching as people went to and
fro down the long, black and gray streets. He fingered a knife in his
gloved hands, running it against his palm.
The door behind Him slid opened
silently. His black cape swished slightly as He turned his head. A
man, dressed all in black, stood in the doorway.
“Come, Adar. Make your report.”
Adar walked slowly up to the caped one.
“My Master, Aymeric, America is ours
in full.”
Aymeric aloud his servant a smile.
“You did well, Adar.” He said,
turning back to the window.
“Your plan succeeded.”
“No,” his Master corrected him.
“My plan has just begun. Cand will take Abiodun by force, and the
world will love us for it. Jacob will work his way into Dashia, but
you, Adar, you will start to reform this land we have worked so hard
for.”
Another light went out.
“We have waited so long for this.
With the Sage out of the way, nothing can stop the Marks now.” the
Aymeric said.
“His death was one of our greatest
victories.” Adar agreed.
The Master chuckled. The city below was
growing darker.
“Look, what do you see?” he asked.
His servant looked out, seeing the city
lights and people.
“I see a destitute country, Master.”
he said in a low murmur.
Aymeric nodded.
“This is what war does. But now, we
must show the people how good it can be to live under us. Schools,
factories, hospitals. The hand of the Marks must been shown.”
“Of course. And they will.” Adar
answered, his dark eyes watching the knife that his Master was
holding. He set it down on a table.
“Activate CM7.”
Adar hesitated for a second, then bowed
his head.
“It will be done as you say,
Master.”
He turned and began to walk towards the
door when Aymeric's voice stopped him.
“Adar, do all that I have said and
you will get your prize... And much more.”
He heard the door close as he kept his
eyes on the city outside, watching.
Chapter 1.
Blair stirred, opening one eye slowly.
She quickly shut it again as sunlight streamed in threw the window
like a stern school master wanting her to answer a question. With a
great effort she opened both of her eyelids and glared at the old bed
sheets they used as curtains. They stirred gently, moved by the wind coming in threw a crack in the
windowpane. Bethel, Blair's little sister, lay under it, her thin shoulders shivering under her blanket.
Her bed was made up of old blankets, softening the hard wooden
floor. Blair sat up, trying to rub some
warmth into her legs. It was a Sunday: A day off of work. Blair was
glad that there were days where you could rest from work without
being fired. Standing up, she walked over to a black chest at the end
of the bed. She opened it. Inside, hers and Bethel's clothes were
folded neatly in stacks. She smiled. Her little sister must have done
that. Blair picked out her black jeans and a brown tunic. She slipped
out of the dress she was wearing and into the clothes she had picked
then pulled on her long black boots. Standing in front of the mirror
that overhang the chest, she looked at her reflection and saw a
tired, sixteen year old girl with her long blond hair hanging tangled
around her shoulders, and her blue eyes that had no spark left in
them. The mirror had a long crack in it, running from one corner to
the other. Blair touched it, running a finger tip down the jagged
break. It was a reminder to her of the day she lost her parents. She
and her little sister had gone to a friends house for the day, but
Blair couldn't remember why. When they had come home that night, the
house was empty. Several plates had been smashed on the floor, the
chest had been turned over and the mirror had been cracked. That was
three years ago and Blair had been left to fend for Bethel, alone.
Bethel was five now, thinner then any person should be at that age
but Blair was helpless to do anything more then what she had already
done. Her job, working at a clothes making factory, paid her every
month, but between she and her little sister ran out of food. Blair
had pride, that is she did not like begging for anything, but she
would for Bethel's sake. She had sold almost everything in the house
that wasn't nailed down to pay for food. Blair looked down at the
opened chest.
“Has it really come to this?”
she asked herself.
Bending down, she
carefully took a white dress out, smoothing out the wrinkles in its
clothe. It was her mother's wedding dress. It was simple and
homemade, but to Blair, it was beautiful. She held it, undecided. The
only food left was a package of crackers in the small room they
called a kitchen. But this was her mother's dress, a cherished
memory. She put it back, thinking that if it really came to it, she
would sell it but they were not there quite yet. Grabbing her black
leather jacket up from the floor, she put it on, zipping it up. Blair
walked quietly over to Bethel and shook her shoulder gently.
“Bethel? Bethel,
you need to wake up.”
Her sister sat up
sleepily, as her red hair fell over her face. She rubbed her eyes
then looked up at Blair.
“Hi, Blair.”
Blair smiled.
“Good morning.
You need to wake up so that you can eat...” she was about to say
'breakfast' but then thought better of it. “The crackers we have
left before I go to work.”
“But I thought
you don't need to go to work today.” Bethel said, looking
disappointed.
“I have to do
some things for Mrs Blackmen.”
This seemed to wake
the younger one up.
“Can I come and
play with Ange and Luther?”
Blair helped her
up.
“Not this time.
I'm not staying at their house.”
Bethel seemed
crestfallen, but only for a moment.
“I'm almost done
with one of the gloves I'm working on!” she seemed very proud of
herself.
“Good, maybe
I'll try to sell them next week.”
“Well, I was
gonna make them for someone as a surprise.” said Bethel, looking
secretive.
Blair patted her
head.
“That's fine
too.”
Their mother had
bought a lot of yarn since she loved to make stuff with it. Bethel
had carried this on, growing quite good at it. Blair was impressed
sometimes at the things she had made. It helped a little with buying
food, but not much. Because they had to find someone who was
kindhearted enough to buy one. Blair went over to the kitchen and
brought out a package of crackers from the top shelf. She walked back
over to Bethel and handed it to her.
“Eat that. I
don't have anything else at the moment that you can have...”
Bethel spoke threw
a mouthful of food.
“Maybe Mrs
Blackmen can give you some of her cheese.”
“Oh, no, Bethel.
We can't ask for that. She has more people to feed in her family.
She's got herself, Ange, Ben, Luther-”
“And Isacar.”
her little sister chimed in.
Blair looked down
at the floor.
“Yes, and
Isacar... Eat those then start working on your gloves. I'll be back
before dark.”
Bethel nodded,
watching her older sister walk towards the door. Blair took her belt
from the side of her bed. The sheath that held her dagger was
attached to it. She checked the dagger. It was a long, curved knife
that her father had given her to protect her. She put it back in the
sheath and buckled it on. Her jacket was long enough to conceal it.
Taking one more look at Bethel, Blair opened the door and walked out,
shutting it behind her.
She looked at the
sun, fingers of cloud beginning to curl around it. Blair guessed it
would rain sometime that day. Setting off down the gray street, Blair
hugged herself. It was cold, a late fall day with chilling winds.
Several people were walking on the streets too, going their own ways.
Blair starred at the ground while she walked, trying to look as
unimportant as possible. Trying to get attention was dangerous in the
city she lived in, and she guessed most in America.
Three girls, all
about Blair's age, walked or stumbled up to her, all leaning on each
other and giggling. She recognized one, Wryn, who worked at the
clothes factory with her. Wryn smiled and laughed, beckoning Blair to
follow.
“Come on, Blair.
We're going to The House. Wanna join us?”
All three stopped
in front of her. Blair looked at her, shucked at her behavior.
“Wryn, what are
you doing?”
Her one time friend
waved a carefree hand at her.
“To The House,
Blair. Mia says there's gonna be quite the company.”
Mia, the oldest of
the three smiled and giggled, blushing. She had a beer bottle in her
hand. Blair looked her up and down, not amused. Gently, she took
Wryn's arm and pulled her away from the other girls.
“Wryn, what are
you thinking?”
She saw the false
joy sparkling in her friends brilliant green eyes, which was really
fear at being caught in the act.
“These are my
friends, Mia and Jen. Is there a problem with that?”
“Wryn! You can't
go to The House! What will your mom think? And what if you-”
“That won't
happen,” Wryn said knowingly. “Mia won't let anything bad happen
to me.”
Blair gave her a
long stare.
“I'm gonna have
to tell your mom.”
Wryn didn't seem to
care about what her friend just said. Blair crossed her arms.
“Don't go, don't
tell, because there won't be anything to tell.”
Wryn glared at her,
obviously flustered.
“My mom... Left.
Don't know where. And now I'm on my own! I gotta do what will get me
money.”
Blair was confused.
If her mom had left her, why wasn't she sad?
“Wryn... I'm
sorry that your mom left you.”
Wryn shrugged.
“Don't be. I'm
better off by myself.”
Blair tried to hide
her pain at the way her friend was acting.
“Wryn, believe
me, living with yourself in charge is not fun. Its just work, and
pain, and loss.”
Wryn drew away from
her.
“That's because
of Bethel. If you didn't need babysit her, you'd be out with the best
of us.”
“Doing the worst
things!” Blair added, her voice strained with concern.
Mia and Jen were
not listening. Mia shared the beer bottle with her friend and called
to Wryn.
“Are you
coming?”
Blair and Wryn
locked eyes for a second then Wryn broke the the spell, walking back
towards the other girls.
“Yeah, I'm
coming. Really Blair, this is the way to make money.”
Blair shook her
head.
“It is, isn't
it?”
This seemed to
aggravate them, but she ignored them and started to walk away. Mia
called after her.
“Oh, come on,
girly! Its not like its against the law.”
Blair sighed,
hating how helpless she felt. Wryn was only fourteen. Blair knew that
Mia had pressured her into going. She had tried to do that to her as
well. Blair put a hand on her face, shaking her head. She found
herself wondering what it would be like to live like them. Blair's
mother had told her that doing something wrong, even if its to save
somebody else, is wrong. That's why Blair took a job, to be able to
have money without doing something wrong. Blair knew that Mia and the
others were being paid for men to use them, and that made her sick.
They could not see how wrong that actually was. For them, there was
nothing negative about it. If they get pregnant, they can get an
abortion for free and they foolishly thought that they were save from
abuse since they were at The House. Blair looked to her left. It was
a alley, where someone had tried to abuse her. Blair shuddered,
recalling that day.
It had been the
first day she had worked at the factory. Blair had come away with a
bloody finger. She was sewing and the needle had gone threw it. She
held it, walking back to her house when she heard footsteps following
her. She looked over her shoulder but nobody was there. She past by
the alley when a hand reached out and grabbed her. Blair let out a
cry of surprise but someone clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved
her against the wall. She looked up at a tall man, his dark hair
shadowing his face. He held her there with his arms and smiled.
“Well, what do
we have here?”
He looked lustfully
at her, touching her cheek gently with his hand. Blair had been
inching her hand towards her dagger but brought it out as he bent
down towards her face. She didn't have the guts to stab him, so she
punched him in the face with her fist clutching the blade. He
staggered back, unhanding her for a second. Blair held the knife, her
hand shaking slightly. With his nose bleeding, he reached out, trying
to grab her hair. She slashed out with her blade, leaving a wide gash
in his arm. He grabbed her shoulders, trying to gain control but
Blair stabbed with the dagger at his chest. She felt his hot breath
on her neck for a second then he let go of her and slumped to the
ground. Blair started running, fear rising in her throat. She didn't
look back to see if he was following her.
That
memory still hunted Blair. She had nightmares that she killed him and
she never really knew if she did. The morning after that happened,
his body wasn't laying there in the alley. After that night, she had
never left the house without her dagger. Blair almost ran into
someone in the street. She was quick and sidestepped, keeping her
head down. The person, a young man flashed a dangerous smile at her.
He was a Mark. She nodded to him, not out of friendship and carried
on. Four other Mark's were with him. They all starred at her as she
past by. The Marks were the governing power in America, their iron
fist choking any uprising. Blair was scared of them. They did what
ever they wanted and only enforced obedience to the Marks. They
didn't care if someone was abused or stolen from, but they took some
interest in murder cases. The Marks were promised to be the perfect
way to rule in peace, but the people did not see this at work. Some
of the bigger cities were starting to have more Marks, but then they
also had more food. Since the town where Blair lived was a small one,
the Marks didn't bother to send food there. Her father had hated
them. She could remember heated debates about the Marks and how they
ruled. Blair tried to not break the law and live her dismal life
quietly. She was not sure that was everybody's view on it though. She
turned a corner and walked down a street with lots tiny houses jammed
together. She stopped at the 5th
one and walked up the steps to the door. She knocked on it.
The door opened
and Mrs Blackmen stood there, holding her five year old Luther in her
arms. She smiled at Blair.
“Come in, miss
Blair. I just made some bread, do you want some?”
Blair stepped in,
feeling the warmth in there house. They had a fire place which was
very useful in the cold seasons. Blair shook her head.
“Oh, I couldn't
have some. Your kids need it more then I do.”
Mrs Blackmen, or
Kary as she was more well known as, looked concerned.
“Blair, that's
not true. You need to eat just as well as the next person. Goodness,
child, when was the last time you ate?”
Blair closed her
eyes, trying to remember.
“Three or four
days, I think.”
Kary put Luther
down and ushered Blair into their tiny kitchen.
“I won't let you
work for me today til you eat some of my bread.”
Blair complied,
sitting down at their table. Ange, Kary's little girl, walked up to
her holding a doll.
“Did Bethel
come?” she asked.
“No, she
couldn't.”
Ange's looked
disappointed. Blair smiled.
“Maybe next
time.”
“Hi, Blair.”
Blair looked up and
Isacar standing there, watching her. He was tall and hansom, his dark
hair covering his mischievous eyes. She smiled at him.
“Hey.”
He sat down at the
table beside her.
“You
didn't come to my birthday party yesterday.”
he said almost teasingly.
She looked down at
her hands.
“Well,
I would have ruined your celebration of
your eighteenth birthday.” her sarcasm was plain.
He shrugged.
“Well, don't you
like celebrating that I'm alive?”
This was how it
always was, them two trying to outdo each other with sarcasm.
“Yes, but your
turning eighteen... Your going to be drafted next month. What's to
celebrate about that?”
He looked at her
with his piercing brown eyes.
“I'm not going
to be drafted, Blair.”
Blair could tell
that there was something more in those words but Kary came in before
she could reply. She put a plate in front of her that had one slice
of bread on it. Blair smiled at Kary. She knew that Kary had the same
disdain for the Marks as Isacar, or even Blair's dad. She often
thought that the kind, forward woman knew more then she would say
about the Marks. But everyone was drafted. If you tried to fight them
they would kill you. The smell of the bread made Blair feel weak but
she felt guilty even touching it. She picked it up and nodded at
Kary.
“Thank you.”
Kary smiled back.
Blair knew that it would be rude to not except it now. Ben, her
second eldest, sat down next to her with some bread of his own.
“My mom makes
really good bread.” he said after taking a bight.
Kary hid a smile.
“Don't speak
with your mouthful, Ben.”
Blair ate it
quickly, then noticed that Isacar was starring at her. He grinned and
her and she rolled her eyes. They were best friends, if pulled apart
with there views of the Marks, they still manage to get along very
well with there sarcastic personalities. Blair stood and thanked
Kary. She turned back to Isacar.
“So, how much
cheese are we selling today?”
Isacar stood as
well.
“As much as we
can.”
Isacar and Blair walked out of the
house, their arms loaded with packages of cheeses that Kary had made.
This was Kary's business that kept her family going. Isacar's mother
was very smart and knew how to make ends meet. Blair wished she was
like her, but knew that would never happen. She and Isacar walked
down the steps silently, each with their own thoughts. Isacar watched
her as they walked down the streets. She seemed more depressed the
usually.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Blair adjusted the cheese she was
carrying.
“Not really... I tried to stop Wryn
from going to The House.”
Isacar looked concerned.
“And did she?”
She sighed.
“Yes, she did.”
“Why didn't you stop her?”
“I tried!” Blair answered
bitterly. “What was I supposed to do after warning her? They might
have called the Marks on me.”
Isacar looked angry.
“Blast the Marks.”
Blair grabbed his arm and almost
dropped all the cheese.
“Isacar! Keep your voice down!”
He helped her put the packages back in
her arms and they kept walking.
“Sorry, Blair.” he said gruffly.
Blair knew that he was only sorry that
he put her in danger, not that he had spoken against the Marks.
“Your gonna get yourself killed one
of these days.” she began. “Blasting the Marks, saying you won't
get drafted, are you nuts?”
He looked at her, dead serious.
“Listen to me, Blair. We are not
going to be drafted. What will happen to Bethel if you get drafted,
or even my family? Five mouths to feed isn't easy.”
Blair looked hesitant.
“Well we wouldn't be much good to
them dead.”
“We're dead ether way.” his words
were true.
Blair agreed with him in her heart but
she was to scared to try to fight.
“Isacar... You know I hate the Marks
as much as you do, but there's nothing we can do about it.”
Isacar saw a Mark patrol coming.
“Quiet.” he hissed.
They both tried not to make eye contact
with the Marks as they past. Once they were gone, Blair looked over
her shoulder.
“Maybe we'd better talk about
something else.”
Isacar seemed happy to.
“You know Rodger and Merrie?”
Blair nodded.
“Yeah, they work at the clothes
factory.”
“Did you know that they got
married?” he asked.
Blair stopped short.
“What?”
“Yes, they did. Rodger told me that
for their wedding he just gave her the ring because of all the red
tape you have to go threw to get married. I agree with him.”
Blair looked doubtful.
“Their both very young. Almost our
ages.”
“Yes, but they are very committed. I
guess all the rules of marriage have at least made the couple
committed. My mother says its better to marry young, because people
don't live as long as when she was a kid.”
“Well thanks for that cheery
thought.” she muttered under her breath, beginning to walk again.
“Its true.” said Isacar, defending
himself.
He looked thoughtful.
“I think when I get married, I'm
going to do that to. Besides, I'm eighteen now and the Marks would
get all nosy if they heard about it. I mean, if I give the girl the
ring, that's all that matters. I just need something symbolize our
love.”
Blair suddenly realized what he meant
and blushed. He seemed just then to realize what he said to and
quickly corrected himself.
“Oh, eh, I mean hers and mine.”
She couldn't help giggling. A quiet
moment went by the she spoke
“I agree with you, Isacar.” she
said softly.
He smiled and then they walked in
silence for a while. Blair started to think about the drafting. It
was twenty years ago that the Marks enforced the All Draft law where
either man or woman had to be drafted when they turned eighteen, no
exceptions. And they had to serve as a Mark for five years, the first
for training, but they often kept them longer then that. Blair
guessed that that was what happened to her parents, even though they
were not eighteen, the Marks sometimes took older people who had not
been drafted yet. But her father had always spoken so much against
the Marks that they could have taken them away to kill them. Blair
was afraid to think what would happen to Bethel when she would be
forced to become a Mark. Turning a corner, they walked into the
market place. It was alive with people selling and buying, or
trading. Isacar and Blair stayed close together so they wouldn't get
separated in the crowd. They made their way over to a small table and
set the cheese down on it. Blair began staking it neatly in rows.
They always had three or for certain costumers on Sunday. A young
lady, who's name Blair could never remember. Then a little boy,
Hannan, who Isacar knew. After that, an old gentleman, Mr Ganruff by
name, would come. He always seemed to be sad... Or depressed. And
then the last Isacar and Blair always sold to was Rennie, a thirteen
year old girl who's grandfather was a very rich man. But, having
known her for a while, they had found out that her grandfather drank
and beat her whenever he became drunk. Blair felt sorry for her, and
wondered if Rennie's life was worse then hers.
The young lady walked up, carrying a
big black bag and wearing a black hat on her head. She quickly picked
out two small cheeses then left, apparently in a hurry. Isacar
started to juggle the cheese, bored.
“Your going to drop it.” Blair
warned.
“No I'm not.” he replied.
Something caught his eye and he dropped
one. Luckily, it landed on the table. The person he saw was the
little boy Hannan, walking towards them. He smiled at Hannan.
“Hey.”
“Hi. Did you bring your girlfriend
along to help you?” he asked.
Blair and Isacar looked at each other.
“Uh, yeah.” Isacar answered.
Blair elbowed him in the ribs.
“Nobody told me about this.”
Isacar grinned.
“Well, your a girl and your my
friend. Aren't you?”
Blair gave him a look, then grinned
back.
“So, what kind of cheese are you
getting today, Hannan?” she said, changing the subject.
Hannan looked at the cheese then
pointed to a small one.
“That one, I think. My mom just
wants a small one this time.”
“It seems like everyone is buying
the small ones.” Isacar commented quietly.
Hannan gave Blair a five dollars and
she gave him the cheese. He waved to them then walked off.
“Everybody's making just enough to
make ends meet, no thanks to the Marks.” he murmured.
Blair didn't answer. If anybody knew
about that, it would be her and Isacar. The stood there, waiting. A
group of Marks past by, all well armed. Blair and Isacar starred at
the ground as they walked by. As they walked out of the market place,
Blair saw the old gentleman walking towards them with his sorrowful
expression on his face. He leaned on a cane as he walked. She and
Isacar smiled at him, greeting him as he walked up.
“Good day, sir.” she said.
He forced a smile, but didn't look up
from the cheese that he was inspecting.
“I'll take that pale cheese there.”
he said abruptly.
Blair gave it to him and he put the
money on the table. Isacar took it and thanked him.
“Good day, you two. Be careful.”
he said.
He never talked like that. He almost
never talked at all, but they both nodded. They waited for a while,
watching all the people going to and fro. Isacar caught a glimpse of
Rennie slowly making her way over to the table. He nudged his
companion.
“Look, Rennie's coming.”
Blair smiled and waved to her. Rennie
walked up, holding a basket in her arms.
“Hello, Rennie.”
As Rennie turned her head to look at
her, Blair saw a brews on her cheek. She felt a pang of sympathy for
her as she tried to find her voice. She was so mad at the girl's
grandfather for doing this to her.
“How are you today?” she asked,
thinking how stupid the question was.
“I'm fine.” she said quietly.
She was very shy. Rennie looked at the
cheeses.
“My grandfather wants two big ones.”
Isacar gave them to her.
“Thank you.”
Isacar smiled and nodded.
“Rennie...” Blair began. “Are
you sure your okay?”
Rennie looked like she was about to
answer when she heard someone calling her.
“I... I have to go. Sorry.” she
ran off, clutching the basket close.
Blair sighed and looked down at the
table. Was there nothing she could do?
“I can't help any of this.” she
said despairingly.
Isacar looked at her quizzically.
“What do you mean?”
Blair shook her head.
“I can't stop Wryn from going to The
House, I can't stop Rennie's grandfather from drinking, I can't stop
the Marks from taking you away from...” she trailed off, as if not
wanting to say more.
“From what?” he asked.
She tried to shrug off what she had
been planning to say.
“From us.”
He looked into her eyes.
“Don't give up, or you really won't
be any help.”
She forced a smile and leaned on the
table.
“Slow and steady?”
They stood there for three more hours,
until it turned dark. Isacar gave Blair her share of the money then
she helped Isacar pile the rest of the cheese they hadn't sold into
his arms. It was getting cold and they both were ready to go to their
homes.
“Goodnight.” he said.
“Goodnight... I'll see you tomorrow,
right?”
“That depends on if I'm selling her
tomorrow. But most likely.”
Blair nodded then
they both parted, Isacar going down one street and she going another.
The walk back was uneventful, which Blair was glad. She walked up to
the her house and opened the door. Walking in, she placed a package
of cheese that Isacar had given her on the table. Blair turned to see
that Bethel asleep, laying in her bed with her yarn still in her
small hands. Blair smiled. Taking off her boots, jacket and belt
quickly, she stole over to her little sister and picked up her
blanket. Covering Bethel gently, Blair stroked her little sister's
hair. Blair didn't know what she would do without Bethel, probably go
crazy with nothing to do she thought. Rolling over, Blair lay down on
her bed which was made up of old sheets and blankets too. Laying her
head on the pillow, she soon fell asleep, tired out from standing all
day.
Chapter 2
Blair Sage was standing in a field, the
grass swishing under her feet. She held her dagger in her hand,
waiting. Her father had two daggers in his hands. He was training
her.
“Hold it up, Blair. Don't let it
fall.”
They locked blades in a power struggle,
Blair's arms straining with the effort. She suddenly backed away,
breathing hard.
“You need to work up your muscle
strength.” he said. “Try to attack me this time.”
The hot sun was burning Blair's face,
but she jump towards him, her blade flashing. He sidestepped, and put
the blade to the back of her neck. He withdrew it quickly.
“Never leave your back undefended,
Blair.”
She stood up strait. He bent down,
putting a hand on her shoulder.
“That's what they want you to do.
But we have to fight it!” he said almost dangerously, staring into
her eyes.
“What? What do they want to do
me?” she asked silently.
“But how can I? What will happen to
Bethel if I fight?”
They both heard Bethel's scream coming
from the town.
Blair sat strait up in bed, breathing
hard. She wasn't in the field, she was at home, with Bethel. She
checked Bethel's bed. She was fast asleep, curled up with the yarn
still tangled around her fingers. Light picked through the window as
the sun started to rise. Blair placed a hand on her racing heart.
“It was only a dream.” she
told herself.
Just a dream. She
stood and walked over to the chest again. She quickly picked out some
clothes and put them on. Grabbing a brush from the chest, she began
brushing her hair. With that done, she braided it then pulled on her
boots and jacket. Blair didn't have the heart to wake Bethel. She
looked so tired... Taking the cheese, she cut to pieces from it and
placed one on the table and the other in her pocket. Taking her belt,
she buckled it on. She had to work at the factory that day, another
long tiring day of bending over clothe and sewing. Blair couldn't
care less for it, but it was the only safe place for her to work. She
set off down the street, the cold wind blowing over her shoulders.
The factory (which could not really be called a factory since all it
was, was twenty four sewing machines and several tables where people
folded and put the clothes on) had thirty two workers, most of them
were teens. She had several good friends there. Cameron, Eryn and
Jake. They all worked hard and kept each other company. Blair looked
up and saw the black building rising above all the others. It was the
tallest building in the city, being five stories high. Several people
were heading that way. Blair caught a glimpse of Eryn through the
crowd. She ran up beside her.
“Hey, Eryn”
Eryn tossed her
long, chestnut brown back and smiled at her friend.
“Yo, Blair.”
she said jokingly. “Had fun on Sunday?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Blair muttered.
Eryn gave her a
knowing look then changed the subject.
“Rodger and
Merrie got married.”
“Isacar told me.
I never would have guessed it.”
Eryn looked at her
as if she had lost her senses.
“What?”
“You!” Eryn
replied, laughing. “It was quite obvious to me.”
“I'm sure it
was.” Blair retorted.
“What's that
supposed to mean?”
Blair didn't say
anything. Eryn was the knowing type. You could go as far to say she
was a match-maker. It was the way she looked at you with her
beautiful brown eyes and they told you she knew what you were
thinking. Blair loved spending time with her, it always made her
cheer up from her woes.
“How's the
orphanage fairing?” Blair asked
Eryn shrugged.
“Same as usual.
Boring, cold. stuff like that.”
“Hmm, it sounds
like my house.”
Eryn looked at her
while speeding up the pace.
“I thought it
would be exiting at your house. You having a five year old sister and
all.”
Blair bit her lip.
“You would think
that, wouldn't you? But she's to hungry to be energetic...”
“I'm sorry... I
didn't know it was that bad.”
“Yeah, well its
not like its big news. Children die everyday of starvation.”
“You sound like
we can't do anything about it.” Eryn said, her tone of voice
challenging.
“I didn't say
that, Eryn.” Blair said quietly. “I just wish I had hope like
yours.”
“You know where
my hope comes from, don't you, Blair?”
Blair nodded and
smiled. That gave her some comfort. They both walked past a old,
broken down church building. Eryn nodded towards it.
“Think there
will ever be another preacher preaching in there?”
Blair didn't know.
“You'd have to
find someone brave enough to do it.”
Christianity was
aloud, but the Marks kept such a close eye on them that all the
former preachers were scared off. Both of them were Christian teens,
trying to strive to keep strong morals in such a place. They both
walked towards the factory, thinking of all the things they couldn't
fix.
Adar stood at the
entrance to the small city. His hard eyes watching from behind the
car's window. He nodded.
“Commander,
activate code CM7, but do not go to the orphanage. That would be too
abrupt.”
The commander
sitting beside him opened the car door and stepped out.
“Yes, sir.” he
answered, saluting.
“Go to the
Miller's, Blackmen's and Sage's houses first. Kill any adults you
find there, except for Mr Miller, of course. Go.”
His commander
signaled his men to follow him and they walked into the city, guns
drawn. Adar watched them leave and rested his head against the seat.
His Master's plan was in action.
Blair
bent over the sewing machine, grimacing as her back strained from
sitting for hours. She looked up and watched Eryn folding the
clothes, but quickly looked back down as a manager walked past. He
watched her work for a second then continued walking around the
factory. Rennie's grandfather owned the factory, which was why he
was so rich, but he also worked for the Marks and Blair was sure that
they paid him too. She jumped as the overseer yelled over the humming
of sewing machines.
“Halt!” the humming stopped. “Lunch break for an hour and a
half. Be back by then or your fired. Dismissed!”
Blair stood slowly up from her chair, nodding to him. He nodded back
and smiled. He wasn't a bad sort, but he did have the air of a
commander. Walking over to Eryn, Blair nodded to the door.
“Coming?” she asked.
Eryn nodded, placing a shirt on the folding table.
“Yeah, lets find Cameron and Jake and get out of here.”
Blair caught sight of the two guys in question and waved to them.
They waved back and made their way through all the people over to
their friends.
“Morning.” Camryn said.
Jake shook his head.
“Its two thirty, man.” he said, looking at his watch.
He was the only one out of all of us that had a watch, though
sometimes it was off, Blair was sure. Camryn smiled.
“Well, I am sorry.”
Jake could not stand people giving out wrong information, and Camryn
took full use of this. Blair spoke.
“Want to eat at the abandoned church again?”
The three others nodded.
“Sure,” Eryn said. “Wanna stop by the market place before we
go over there?”
Blair eyed her.
“No... Why would we?”
Eryn nodded knowingly.
“I think you know.”
All three stared at their friend, thinking the same thing. Blair
glared at them frostily.
“No, I don't. Besides, we only have an hour to eat and that would
take up too much time.” she crossed her arms.
Jake spoke up.
“An hour and twenty minutes.” he corrected.
“Whatever.”
Blair started walking to the door then looked back at them
“Well are you coming or aren't you?”
They all followed her out the door and down the steps. They began
walking down the street, Blair in the lead. Eryn caught up with her.
“I didn't see Wryn today, did you?”
Blair looked down at her boots as they walked, not wanting to talk
anymore about it.
“No, I didn't... She gone her own way and we can't stop her.”
Eryn pursed her lips.
“I wish we could.”
Blair shrugged.
“She is her own person.”
They walked in silence for a while. Blair began to notice that there
were more Marks patrolling stone streets than usual. All four kept
their heads down but Blair caught a glimpse of two Marks whispering
something then looking at her. She let her hair fall over her face,
hiding their eyes. They waiting until the patrol moved on then walked
up the church steps, its walls and shutters creaking. As Jake was
about to open the door, they all heard a crash coming from inside the
building then a voice.
“Blast that bench!”
Blair grinned.
“It's Isacar.”
“I thought he was selling cheese.” Eryn commented.
Blair gave her friend a look then opened the door and peered in. She
saw Isacar standing in a pool of light coming from the window,
slashing the air with a dagger quite like her own. He looked like he
was practicing. Silently, she walked up behind him. Not knowing she
was there, he swung the dagger over his shoulder, spinning round. In
a flash, Blair had her knife up and there blades locked. Isacar
seemed confused for a moment and they both said nothing. Finally,
Blair broke the silence.
“Who taught you how to fight?”
“My father.” he said. “You?”
They stared into each others eyes.
“My father.” she replied levelly.
Isacar drew his dagger away.
“Curios.”
Blair could see that he was in a concentrating on something, though
his face looked grim.
“Is something wrong?”
He twirled his dagger then looked at the others.
“I'm... Training.”
“And that's bad?”
“Training for what?” Camryn asked.
Blair looked concerned.
“Surely not for becoming a Mark.”
He smiled grimly at her.
“Certainly not. I'm training for an escape.”
Camryn raised a eye brow at him.
“That might be bad.”
Blair put her dagger away.
“Isacar... They're going to kill you.”
“Then let them do it face-to-face!” he almost shouted then
regretted it. “I'm sorry. I just...”
He ran his hand threw his long, brown hair then forced a smile at
them.
“I suppose you think I'm foolish.”
“Maybe a little.” Eryn said honestly.
Blair looked down at the floor.
“Your
gonna get yourself killed, Isacar Blackmen.” she
thought angrily. She knew his reasoning: He was going to be drafted
anyway, so why not fight? She understood why he thought what he
thought, but she still did not have that burning desire to kill the
Marks. Maybe she should have, they took her parents after all, but
she wasn't brave enough to be mad at them for all the things they had
done.
“I brought some bread if any of you-” Jake began but was cut off
by Blair
“Be quiet!” she hissed. “Can you guys hear something?”
They all listened for a moment then Isacar tensed up.
“Yeah, I heard it. It sounds like someone screaming.”
Blair's face grew scared then she ran out of the door. Isacar and the
others were right on her heals.
“Blair, where are you going?” Eryn called after her.
Blair replied as she ran.
“Its coming from my house. It sounds like Bethel!”
As
they ran, they all heard three gun shots coming from down the street.
Isacar caught up to her and was just a few houses away from Blair's
when he saw a group of Marks standing around her house. Thinking
quickly, he grabbed Blair's arm and pulled her into a alleyway. The
others followed. As they pressed their backs against the wall, they
heard another scream. Blair was about to yell at her friend when he
put a hand over her mouth and whispered to her.
“Blair, be quiet! I saw several Marks standing around your house.
Just wait a second!”
She removed his hand but he blocked the her way.
“I know! Bethel's at the house and I need to get to her!” she
whispered back.
Camryn peered around a wall and watched the Marks, his anger growing.
One of them came out of the house with a small child in his arms and
they began talking and started gesturing with their daggers and guns
at her. Camryn had never seen Bethel, but he knew that this girl was
in danger. Blair was struggling in Isacar's grasp.
“Let me go! I have to save Bethel!”
Isacar tried to calm her down.
“Blair, there was at least thirteen Marks standing around your
house! It would be suicide to go over there now!”
Camryn watched the Marks carefully. They talked a few minutes longer
then nodded to each other, walking away from the house down another
street. Camryn nodded to Isacar.
“They left. Its safe to go now.”
Blair pulled away from Isacar and started running towards her house.
Isacar and the others followed her, running behind. Isacar still held
his dagger in his hand, gripping it tight. Blair was already going
inside the house and no Marks were in sight. Isacar began walking
towards the door when Blair ran out of the house, her face stricken
with grief. Isacar steadied her.
“Blair, where is she? What
happened?”
Blair couldn't stop her tears.
“They took her! They took Bethel!”
Jake walked up to the door and opened
it. The house was a mess, the mirror lying on the floor, the chest
knocked about and the beds kicked all around the house. He saw
several bullet holes in the wall. He turned back to Isacar, shaking
his head. Isacar held Blair close, trying to comfort her.
“Why? What did I do wrong!?” her
sobs came out in gasps, letting Isacar hold her.
“They did something wrong, not you,
Blair.” Isacar said fiercely, a tear springing to his eye.
Camryn's face was a mask of rage.
“We need to go after them.”
“No!” Eryn said, facing up to him.
“They'll kill us if we follow them.”
“But Eryn, they're gonna kill her if
we-”
“Eryn's right.” Isacar said. “We
can't just go dashing off after them. We don't know why they took her
yet.”
Jake looked from him to Camryn.
“But, they're gonna kill her!” he
said.
Isacar shook his head.
“No, if they were going to kill her,
they would have done it here and saved them time.”
Camryn was walking back and forth,
agitated.
“But what are we gonna do?”
Isacar lost his patients with them.
“I don't know! I don't know
anything, okay?! Just calm down and let me think!”
Blair tried to pull herself together.
“What did I do? I've tried so
hard to play by the rules, and they still took her!?”
Isacar looked at
her.
“Blair... Are
you okay?”
Blair bit her lip,
trying to toughen up.
“I never should
have left her! I should have been here!”
“You can't say
that. You were working to feed her, Blair. What would you have done
if you were there? They would have killed you too.”
“They didn't
kill her,” Camryn said. “They took her away.”
“We don't know
that.” Jake rejected. “Didn't we all hear gun shots?”
Camryn elbowed him
sharply.
“Shut up, will
you?” he said quietly so that Blair couldn't hear.
They heard another
gun shot coming from Isacar's home.
Rennie rested on the window seat,
reading a book while trying to be as quiet as possible. She thought
her grandfather was in the house, but she could not be sure. She
jumped as she heard a knock on the front door then her grandfather's
steps walking towards it. He passed her on his way. Rennie tried not
to look at him and made herself look as small as possible. He did not
seem to notice her. She heard him open the door then she heard him
talking to someone.
“Is your granddaughter here, Mr
Miller?”
“Yes, she is.”
“We have orders to take her to MB7,
sir.”
Rennie's heart began to bound in her
chest. She quietly began to walk out of the hall into her room.
“Aha. So your plan is already in
action? What is Rennie to be? If I may ask.”
“A maid-servant, most likely, but it
all depends.”
Rennie stood at the door to her room,
breathing faster.
“A maid-servant? No! Please...”
she begged silently.
The Mark who was
talking to her grandfather stepped in.
“Where is she?”
Mr Miller gestured
down a hallway.
“In her room, I
think.”
The Mark caught
sight of a girl standing in the hallway, in a long white dress,
watching them. He nodded to her.
“Is that her?”
The other man
nodded.
“Yes, that's
her. Rennie, come here.”
Rennie stood where
she was, holding the door to her room open.
“Come here,
child.”
The Mark pushed
past the old man.
“Let me handle
this.”
Striding forward,
he grabbed Rennie's arm. She tried to pull away but he drew out his
gun and placed it against her chest.
“Be still if you
want to live.”
He turned to her
grandfather.
“Don't worry
sir, she'll be well taken care off.”
He pulled her along
until they were standing close to the door. Rennie looked into her
grandfather's eyes, pleading. He looked away, not out of pity or
guilt, but out of something like pride. The Mark nodded to Mr Miller.
“The Master
wanted me to tell you that you have done a good job over this town.
He is impressed, even.”
Mr Miller's tone
was slightly sarcastic as he replied.
“Impressed? It
doesn't take much to keep control over this town.”
The Mark hid a
sneer.
“I've noticed.”
The old man nodded
to him, as if giving him leave to go. The Marks pulled her out of
the house and slammed the door. Rennie did not scream, because no one
would care even if they heard her. One, a slightly younger Mark
looked at her.
“Can't we make
her into a maid-servant now?” he asked.
The one who had
taken her shook his head.
“No, our orders
were to bring them back unharmed, so keep your hands off her until He
gives the word.”
They walked off,
heading down the stone street towards the city's main gate
