The Freaks

chapter twenty-three

Something bad will happen tonight. I can feel it deep within my bones.

But only to the Soldiers.

I make my way down the first hallway, checking over my shoulder and around my surroundings with every other step I take, making sure that no one is around to see me. The rain from outside drips down from my poncho and onto the floor, but I know no one will be around to find it. For a moment though, I think I might see Brianna again, but no one is there. The hood is still covering my head and face, so any of the Soldiers who decide to come back early will not recognize me. I hope.

Nervousness fills me as my pair of boots tap against the hard stone floor, the sound echoing around the already-large space. Bad thoughts and scenarios constantly enter my mind, threatening to overpower me. They tell me that I'll never be able to do this; that I won't have enough power to do it.

The voice says I'm not strong enough. That I'm too weak.

I'm going to prove myself wrong.

Last I heard from the Soldiers, there are about fifty-six Freaks currently in the prison right now. A few more have arrived since Serena and Nox rescued me. That's not good enough. I need to be quicker. Any day now, a Freak will turn eighteen and be sentenced to death by hanging, just like I was supposed to be all those weeks ago.

To the Soldiers' eyes, Luca no longer exists.

That just makes being Jackson Parker that much simpler.

The first hallway I come down is the one I first had to guard when I arrived here. I can feel the presence of the Freaks swirling around the air like it's trying to find a place to settle. I remember what it was like being stuck in here, behind the bars. I remember the feeling of wanting to use my abilities even though the power-suppressant cuffs were constantly around my wrists, mocking my inability to do anything.

The first cell to my left has a boy in it. He doesn't look up at my approach, seemingly not hearing me, but he finally does when I crouch down to his height. He's sitting in the far corner of the cell, his body pressed firmly between the two walls behind and next to him. When he moves I can see the silver glint of the cuffs when they catch the light above his head. His eyes widen at me, his mouth forming into a perfect O. His face is dirty, a scab already formed on his jawline and a faint scar just below his right eye. If I could guess, it was probably the work of one of the Soldiers. My heart breaks and my fist clenches at the sight of his injured state, willing away the anger as I rise from the ground.

"W-who... who are you?" the boy stammers, his words broken and uneven. He's petrified of me. I can tell.

The Soldier who did this to him can go to hell.

I bring some of the anger back as I raise my hand to the lock securing the cell door. Finding the right movements inside the mechanism is as easy as if you put a key inside it. I used to hear the Soldiers unlocking and locking it every time they entered and exited my cell. I memorised the noise, without even knowing I was doing it.

The cell door opens slowly and loudly as I slide it to the side, cursing under my breath when the noise echoes around the hallway. I check to see if any Soldiers are going to appear around the corner, but then I suddenly remember they're all at the club, enjoying their night off.

I realize with a start that no Soldiers are guarding tonight. It must be because they know that the Freaks can't do anything with the cuffs on. Or it must be because they are trained with harsh actions and words not to move from the spot they are all currently sitting in. They know that if they walk up to the bars or look at the Soldiers, they will be punished.