Spectator

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Now

The spirit woods were extensive, stretching over a sizable area, but it meant they were free from the chase while within, and that was all Kali needed. Their pace was swift and steady but not punishing, and when the night had well and truly fallen, they agreed on a decent night's sleep, which was much deserved after the piddly hours they'd gotten the night before. They were all exhausted.

After some deliberation, they started a small fire, just to keep the chill of mist and fog from their bones. If it was sacrilege, well, Kali hoped no-one would notice. The trees were clustered enough to hide the smoke. They snacked on dried fruit and bars in companionable silence. Jae was uncharacteristically silent, but he was also already dozing off and on, and as they wanted his body to heal as fast as possible, the rest of them accepted that they would take the other watches, even Zakariah.

"We go at this pace, and don't have any more interruptions," Zakariah said with a look at Nari and Kali as if it were all their fault, "We should reach the research post in two, maybe three days."

"So soon?" Kali hadn't been expecting that. They were only days away all this time, but the impromptu trip through the waterfall had cut some time off their journey, and these spirit woods didn't hurt either.

"Haven't been here long enough?" Zakariah sneered at her. "Maybe if you ask nicely you can come back and visit your boyfriend. If you aren't kicked out."

"Like any of it matters," Kali snorted. Like any of it ever mattered.

"There might be so many few students left that we all graduate,"

"It's not funny, Zakariah," Kali snapped.

"It is if you aren't dead. Maybe you finally have a chance of being in the top ten, Kali."

"Fuck you."

"Enough, both of you." Nari interrupted. "Especially you, Zakariah."

"Ah, the prestigious leader. Think by wrangling in your subordinates, you'll finally get that boost you want?"

"I don't want it."

Zakariah scoffed, and even Kali closed her mouth so she wouldn't let a similarly incredulous sound eke out.

"I need it," Nari corrected. "My family's living on the edge of the toxic wasteland. They'll be relocated to Mars. If I graduate at the top. Nothing less. Number one spot. I have to be the best, or they eventually succumb to radiation. That was the deal made with the recruiter who pulled me out of there after they made a bunch of the wasteland kids compete for it."

There was a stretching, uncomfortable silence. Finally, Zakariah broke it, as arrogant and snobby as ever. "If you're trying to earn that spot by a boo hoo story–"

"I'm not asking for handouts. I don't need one. I'm just saying. And you'd be the last one I'd ask, Zakariah."

Zakariah sniffed. "Good. It needs to be won fair and square."

"And it will be. And I'm not worried about beating you, Zakariah. Maybe I would. You have an aptitude for retention, your instincts are solid, and your reflexes are fast. You're one of the better pilots. Probably since you've been practicing for the academy since you're a toddler with all the technology your parents' money can buy, but it's given you a lead in life. Still, it's not enough. Maybe it's parental issues, being ignored, or just that you've always been catered to by droids to serve your other whim. You might be talented, but your big narcissistic ego gets in the way. You're arrogant and dismissive, and you could work well with others but you choose not to, because you think you're better than all of them. And then deep down, you're just insecure and lonely so you pretend even more that you don't care, and act even more superior and snobby. There are worse things to be than an egotistical ass, but it's a waste. You'll never be quite good enough, and you won't be the one in charge."