Chapter 3

Some of this place is explained, and Silver is possibly being too bold.

I can feel the sweat beading on my brow. These kids have me helpless, vulnerable to any fate that could befall me. Everyone is muttering. I drum my fingers on my thigh out of habit. Their apparent leader starts talking.

“Now, I believe that she was the desired target. Am I right, Ebony?” she shoots a look toward me. Ebony can't seem to look directly at her. It's as if everyone is afraid of her. He answers slowly.

“Bronze and I believe that she is the item we were sent to acquire, Jet.”

“I see.” she says, eyes not leaving me. She seems to examine me, looking for any flaws she can exploit. I can't seem to look her in the eye. “I have no doubt that you are telling the truth. However, you didn't bring her back unharmed like I commanded.” her steely gaze turns on him. The air in the room seems to stop. “You failed me.” she pulls out a pistol. Ebony tenses up. I can't contain myself.

“STOP!” I shout, trying to lunge toward her. I can't just watch someone be murdered in cold blood because of me. Not again. Unfortunately, what my mind wants to do is not what my leg wants to do. I land on the floor at her feet. Everyone in the room gasps and backs off, except Ebony who seems frozen to the spot.

She laughs slightly and stares down at me, pistol still aimed at Ebony. “So,” she says icily, “You don't want me to shoot him? Maybe we can make an arrangement.”

“I'll do anything. I can't watch you murder someone.” I say it with a deadly seriousness. The rational part of my mind is screaming at me to stop. I don't listen to it. I even meet her gaze completely, staring at her with the same hard stare. Her eyes flicker briefly with surprise, then they return to their icy coolness.

“Here are my terms,” she starts. Here it comes, I think. “If you join us and swear your complete undying loyalty to my clan of thieves, I won't shoot him. You're a thief, so we aren't too different.”

“I swear. I'll join you.” I say quickly.

“You have to do more than just swear it. I need proof.”

“How? What proof? I have nothing!” I'm starting to get desperate. How can a thief give proof of loyalty? A sickening idea formed. Would I do that?

“There is one thing. The only thing you have of your own.”a cruel smile forms on her face. “I want you're real name.” My real name. Giving it to her would leave me at her mercy. With someone's real name, you have something for authorities. Give a bounty hunter your real name, and they can tell people so they could track you down. They would even get a reward.

“My real name?”

“Yes. They all did.” she flicks her gaze over the other kids in the room. So that's what makes a rogue gang. Being forced to work for someone, hoping that they won't betray you if you try to escape.

“I'll- I'll do it.” I don't make this decision lightly. I'm risking my life. I try to stand up to tell her it, but again, my leg again has other ideas. I collapse again, embarrassment welling up in me. Jet chuckles without any real feeling whatsoever and crouches down, pistol still aimed at Ebony.

“Can you reach me now?” she laughs snobbishly. The laughter ripples throughout the crowd. It's not happy laughter. It's choked out, in an attempt to appease their leader. I've heard it before. I sit up as best as I can, and whisper my name to her. It feels strange. Odd. I haven't said it in so long. Walls have ears, and before now I haven't had anyone to tell it to. It makes me feel... what's the word? Vulnerable.

Jet is pleased, and lowers the pistol. “Too bad your near useless right now. I'd take you to meet with the other groups tonight. This is when we trade. But I guess you can help Ink clean things up.” she nodded to the tall girl. Why is this girl, as white as they come, named Ink? But then again, I call myself Silver. “Go on. Get to work,” she says in a mocking tone, “You can move.” I'm probably being stupid. I've practically turned off my rational part. She's tempting me to give in. Making me look weak, making her look even crueler and stronger. So I defy her, and start to stand. My leg screams protest. I press on, gritting my teeth. I move with an awful limp, and barely avoid falling over. I can feel Jet's eyes boring into the back of my skull, but I press forward. I'll join her group, but don't expect me to worship her. Everyone else looks uncomfortable about this. This is going to come back and bite me. I know it. It just happened sooner then I thought it would.

“Well, I'm impressed. I thought your independent living skills were good enough, but your endurance is amazing.” Jet says with a sneer. I know she's going to use this against me. This is why I never do groups. Doing exactly what you want to do doesn't work well when you have other people around. “I guess your well enough to walk with us all the way to the trading site then. Ink, get her a bandage.” and- there it is. I wince, and I'm glad she's behind me so she doesn't see it. She starts giving all of us orders while I wait for my wounds to be tended. Wait, why didn't I have a bandage before?

Ink came back, and like she knows how to read my mind, she says, “Sorry you didn't have one earlier. Truth is, I was getting stuff to change it, and kept getting delayed. Then Jet insisted that you had to see her before anyone else. Sorry.”

“It's alright. I'm willing to bet you didn't have much say in stuff with her.” She smiles weakly at my words. why does it seem that Ink does all the chores around here? I'd have to ask later. The bandage helps a little. At least I know it's protected. Jet picks out a few kids to go with us. I don't know them at all, and it'll be hard to talk to someone with Jet's eyes on me at all times. I've never hated someone as much as her. At least not an individual. She sees me as a tool. Geez, she even targeted me! Then, as if having me at all wasn't enough, I was injured so she tried to kill my rescuer. Is it a rescuer if they get you out of one trouble into another? I guess this wasn't certain death, but... uh... Does this count as being close to it?

We start on the way out. It's hard enough walking with a hole in your leg. Don't forget painful. It's even harder to go up stairs. Old, creaky, moldy stairs at that. I hate my life sometimes. No. Scratch that. I hate the decisions I make in life sometimes.

Before we go outside, Jet stops us and gives us weapons. A knife and a fully loaded pistol for all of us. I feel like asking how she got hold of them.

“Just in case the trip ends badly. They're... Let's say.... unpredictable.” she says with a hint of warning in her voice.

Author's Note

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