The Soldier

The Fence

Rushed, anxious words drained from Calvin's mouth as the pile of food on his plate rose to a mountain. He glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if the tables of initiates were still watching us. They were.

Calvin was the messenger. He explained that visitors had been barred from the infirmary since yesterday and with no updates on Addie's condition, the group was upset that I had the nerve to show up to breakfast alone and uninformed.

"This isn't personal, but we all decided that it would be better for everyone involved if you would give us some space. A couple of people are really upset and you'll only remind us of what happened yesterday."

"I didn't mean to hurt her, I just--"

"--Sure." Calvin interrupted, dismissing me. "Anyway, Four told us last night that we're going to meet in the pit at 10 to tour the fence so I'll catch up with you then, yeah? Don't worry, this whole thing will blow over soon enough." He rushed away to sit with the other initiates and eat his food while I was left holding an apple that I don't remember picking up. I bit into the thin skin as I left the line and cringed. I hate green apples.

I exited the dining hall and threw the apple in the trash along with the feelings of rejection Calvin had left with me. I don't need him. I don't need them. I repeated this to myself as I wandered back to the dormitories. I don't need them. I don't need anyone. I had more important things to do anyway. What I needed was to take a shower and to take my pain medication.

Half an hour later I sat on the floor of the supply closet, water dripping from my hair onto my shirt and onto my tablet. Clicking through the updates and messages on the bright screen, I could almost feel my hair twisting into its natural curls. Braiding or putting my hair in a ponytail with one injured hand was not an option so I would have to endure the chaos I could feel forming on my head and the pieces of hair that kept falling in my face.

I pulled out a bright orange container from my pocket and examined the fine print on the label. Take every two hours with food, it instructed. My stomach gurgled at the thought of food but I wrapped my arms around myself and clenched my stomach muscles to suppress the sounds. Going back to the dining hall wasn't an option. Not only would it be too embarrassing to sit by myself, but I was too proud to give anyone the satisfaction of making me look like an outcast.

I opened the container with my good hand and popped two small blue pills into my mouth, the pills sticking to the inside of my throat as I dry swallowed them.

I checked the time at the top of the tablet's screen. 9:15. More than enough time to finish going through the rest of these unread messages. I started with the oldest reports, clicking on, skimming through, and absorbing the information before moving on. So far the majority of the updates were of little to no importance. General group announcements addressed to all employees of the Bureau. The first floor of the west wing will be closed for construction over the next several weeks. Reports of small disturbances among the factionless and rumors of an uprising. Reminders that a government visitation and inspection of the Chicago headquarters is scheduled for next Thursday.

Those riots were intriguing but a new message, received only moments ago, flagged red, and containing the word "important" in the subject, appeared on the screen. I quickly browsed through its contents and then immediately started over again, trying to make myself read slower so that I could understand the orders the head of the Bureau was giving.

"Olivia,

I have been briefed by my staff about your recent events and your subsequent injury. I offer my condolences and hope that this is only a minor setback in your training.