Dead Or Alive

Chapter Three: Loki

Chapter 3: Loki

"Nothing much," Peyton said, but I could instantly tell she was burning up inside to tell me something.

"How's your ankle?" Will asked, shifting his striking green eyes to me. I grimaced.

"Okay, I guess. Thanks for helping us." I said, hoping I sounded and looked confident. Chances are, I probably didn't.

"Your welcome. 48!" Will hollered out the door. I heard quick footsteps, and then someone came into view. He was so tall and gangly that he had to duck just to avert cracking his head on the doorframe. He had orange hair that stuck out at odd angles, as if he had just rolled out of bed.

"Howdy!" He said, smiling. I gave him a tiny wave, and Peyton just stood stiffly.

"I'm Thomas. You can call me 48, but it only reminds me of my sucky fighting skills." He said cheerfully. I nodded, hoping I looked like I knew what was going on. Thomas held out his hand, and in his palm were two small disks. From them came a pulsing white light.

"This'll fix you guys up in no time," he said, holding one of the disks to the light.

"It's a new technology that Thomas found. He named them Curons." Will supplied. I sent him a grateful look. Thomas carefully attached a Curon to my cast. It stuck as if someone had put invisible glue on it. Immediately, I felt a coldness rush through my ankle. I gave a little shiver. My foot tingled, and it felt as if the bone in my ankle was mending.

"Wow," I said, amazed. If only me and Peyton had discovered these. It would have saved us a lot of pain.

"Cool, right? Only thing is, they take absolutely forever to recharge." Thomas said wistfully, almost as if he was talking to himself. The cold feeling faded away, taking the pain in my ankle with it. Thomas then unceremoniously took of my cast with a small silver knife. I moved my foot and stood, flashing Thomas a smile.

"Thanks!" I said, relieved I was done with all the hobbling around. Thomas nodded. He looked at Will.

"Everyone is in the Training Room. Should I let them know?" Thomas asked him. Will gave a slight nod, and Thomas left without a word. Will led us to a side room and told us to get changed. A pair of jeans and a black tank top for both of us. When we were done, Will turned to us.

"Ready to meet the rest of the us?" My mind froze, remembering what I had so wanted to forget, what I had wanted to leave behind in my scarred past. I remembered all the milky white eyes, all of them turning towards me. My life had never been the same. I had nightmares, jumped at shadows. I felt a tingle at my back where my scar was.

I forced myself to look at Will and nod. Peyton put a hand on my shoulder. She knew. Will led us down a flight of stairs and into a plain white hallway. The fluorescent lights flickered, giving me a headache. At the end of the hall was a pair of steel double doors.

"What is this place?" I breathed, looking around. Will caught my eye.

"A Fighter base. We're against the Dreads." He answered. My heart slowed. A bunch of teenagers, alone, against Dreads? We had reached the doors, and my heart quickened. I could here voices on the other side.

"This is the Training Room." Will said, pushing the doors open. I gaped. Teenagers were sparring, fighting dummy's, throwing knifes, shooting bows. At the sight of us, the stopped and waved. There were worn mats everywhere, along with targets, some for archery, some for knifes.

"Everyone," Will said, "this is Peyton and Loki. They were found trying to hold off the Dreads." Silence filled the large room.

"And I'm going to ask them to join us, to unite against the Dreads!" Will shouted. Everyone erupted in shouts and whoops. I looked at Peyton. I gave a discreet nod. I tapped Will on one broad shoulder.

"Yes." I simply said. The room was filled with yells and happy shouts, only now me and Peyton were joining in. Will spun me around, and I smiled, laughing. Maybe my life wouldn't always be running.

After things quieted down and everyone went back to their training, Will introduced us to the other kids in Category Three of the Fighters. Their sister category's were currently silent and faraway, he had explained.

Everyone was ranked by number for their skill in fighting. The second best to Will was a small girl named Nara, number 24. She had long, silky black hair and stormy grey eyes. She smiled, but no warmth came from it, not like Thomas. I noticed that everyone looked weary and tired, yet the still came across with a fire in their eyes.

"This is where you get your rank, through here." Will said, showing us a white room. It had a single, large window for people to observe.

"If you want, we can do the rank initiation now," he said. I nodded. I wanted to feel alive, on fire. I knew that was the way to do it.

"Even though it looks like the real person, it's just a hologram. They can't really hurt you, and well tell you if you've been knocked unconscious." He explained.

"You'll go through each person, and when someone knocks you unconscious," he made air quotes, "then that's your rank. They move up, and you get their old number." I nodded, swallowing.

"I'll go first," I said confidently. I needed to look brave, like I belonged. I stepped into the white room, and the others crowded around the window, peering in. I took a deep breath and glanced at Peyton who gave me an encouraging smile.

"Number 48, commence." Said a cool female voice. She seemed to be coming from everywhere. In front of me, Thomas materialized. He looked so real, but then I looked through the window, and there was the real Thomas, cheering me on.

48 took a step closer. I could tell right off that all his gangly limbs got in the way. I needed to be fast. I whipped by him and struck him in the back of the head, hard. He crumpled, and I needed to force the thought that he wasn't real into my mind.

"Number 46, commence." In front of me, a girl my size appeared. Her right eye had a scar on it, and the iris was a pale blue. She couldn't see through that eye. A glint caught my eye. Number 46 had a shining knife in her hand. Was this allowed...? I glanced up at Thomas who looked confused. So did Will. They weren't supposed to have knifes, then.

I took a step back. This didn't feel right. I ran to the door, but it was sealed shut. I looked back at 46, heart hammering. But 46 wasn't there.

Before me, stood a Dread, snarling at me with its rotting teeth. It's pale flesh was criss-crossed with cuts and lines. It was a teenage boy, eyes as milky as a cloud. It lunged at me, but I dodged, kicking it hard in the stomach. It didn't even stop. It stood up and eyed me angrily. I glanced at the window, which was behind me. Peyton was screaming and pounding on the window. I turned quickly, just in time to see the Dread slash his knife over the middle of my back. My weak spot. My scar.

I fell to the ground, dazedly thinking 'How did he know?' A ribbon of dark red was making its way across the floor.

I saw the knife near my fallen hand. I grabbed it, and as the Dread bent down to expect me, I plunged it into its chest. It toppled backward, nothing but a dead body. I lay on the ground, and the only thing I could hear was my own heart beat. Thump...thump...thump...

I looked up at the window. There was chaos, but Peyton just stood there, looking at me. I made an x over my heart, and she did the same. A signal we made up long ago, in a time I never want to remember.

Keep going. Don't give up.