The Freaks

chapter eight

I think Nathan is trying to kill me.

My feet are pounding against the treadmill, running at a speed my mind can just about keep up with. The sweat dampening my hair is getting it my eyes, but I don't have the strength to wipe it away. I'm moving so rapidly against the machine that I can't register how hard my heart is beating against my chest.

"Come on, Luca!" Nathan shouts from the treadmill next to mine, encouraging me even though I want to push him off the machine and watch him fall to the ground. "You can do this, mate!"

I blow out a frustrated puff of air between my teeth and run faster, my arms moving at the same pace at my sides.

The only thing making this whole thing better is the upbeat music blaring from a small stereo, playing the only CD they have. Over the past amount of time I have been in here, the stereo has played every single track on the CD, and now it's playing the first song again. I don't mind, though; the music is fast-paced, making me almost forget the pain in my limbs. Almost, but not quite.

Nathan leans over the machine and checks something on the control panel in front of me. I watch him as I continue to run, my mind racing with what he might do. Seemingly satisfied, Nathan presses the red Stop button on the panel, and the whole thing carefully slows down until it stops completely.

My legs feel like jelly. I take a few steps backward to get off the treadmill—

And I fall right to the ground.

Nathan comes and helps me just as quickly as I fall, purposefully avoiding my skin as he helps me sit up from the ground, brushing away the dust clinging to my T-shirt. "You all right there, mate?" he asks.

I nod once, the absence of air from my lungs preventing me from speaking.

"Here." Nathan pulls a water bottle from a satchel swung across his shoulder, undoing the lid and handing it to me. "Drink this. It will make you feel better."

I drink at least half of the bottle without taking a breath, not glancing at Nathan as he settles himself down on the ground next to me, resting his forearms atop his knees. He breathes out a sigh and leans his head against the wall behind us.

I screw the lid back on and press the cool plastic against my forehead, letting the condensation do its magic against my sweaty, hot skin. It hasn't even been a day in here, and I still feel like Nathan's killing me. I stare at the treadmill next to us, cursing it silently for what it has done to my legs. "How long was I on that thing?" I ask, turning my head to look in Nathan's direction.

He smiles and gives a little laugh. "An hour," he replies. He turns his head to look at me, the smile still there. "Well done. You did really well, Luca."

I nod and give a smile for his benefit, handing the bottle back to him when I feel it shake in my grasp.

"Do you think you can carry on?" he asks.

I nod again and rise shakily to my feet, swaying a little as I regain my balance from the run. When I first finished from the machine, it felt like my legs were no longer a part of my body. It was like someone else was controlling where I was walking, while my top half just stayed completely still, not knowing what to do. Almost like when Serena saved me from my execution.

We head for the weights on the rack. Nathan picks up the smallest and hands it to me. It hardly weighs anything. I could easily lift it above my head if I wanted, if my arms didn't feel like they could just drop off at any moment. I watch as he curls the next weight down, showing me how to hold my arm and what not to do. I try it for myself and let Nathan stop me and place my arm in the right position when I get it wrong.