I Am Annika

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Her voice shook with obvious anger.

"You let the rebel escape," she said, pounding a pale fist on her desk. I did not flinch, did not look away.

"I did nothing of the sort. I disposed of him." I said this easily, but I could tell Vanessa wasn't even close to buying it.

"I think," she said, her voice deadly calm, "that we need to test where your loyalties lie." She said, a feral smile spreading across her lips. I looked on, making sure to keep my emotions in check.

She watched me with her cold eyes.

"You will train the new initiates. That is an order. Anything less then the best will get you jail time." She said. She was testing me, trying to see if I would change. The satisfaction would not be hers. Not today.

"I will be there when they arrive." I bowed my head, waiting for Vanessa to dismiss me.

"Get out." Her voice was sharp and hard. I quickly exited the room. I hated that place.

I had a bitter taste in my mouth. I returned to my quarters, a bare room with a bed, a mirror and a desk. The whitewashed walls were too bright. I sat on the bed, hearing the bed squeak. I sighed.

Vanessa was getting suspicious. I looked around. There was probably a listening device hidden somewhere in my room. I had to be careful.

I laid down slowly, sinking into the uncomfortable mattress. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness make me blissfully unaware.

But when someone like me doesn't keep their heads up, they usually drown.

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"Soldier AAA, to the docks immediately. I repeat, Soldier AAA, to the docks immediately." I'm jolted awake by the voice crackling over the loud speaker. I slip out of bed, changing into what Vanessa calls my 'Dressed To Impress' outfit. I hate her.

It's not the usual uniform. It's a shiny black tank top with black pants and high black boots, with a big black belt around my waist, holding whatever weapon I may choose. It is as if I am wearing a piece of darkness.

The only thing I truly appreciate about the outfit is the belt, which is where I place my gun, and a few knives. I walk out from my room, flitting down a long hallway, and eventually reentering the lobby. My boots squeak against the perfectly cleaned floor. I pass the guards who open the doors for me. I feel their exchanged looks behind my back.

The morning is cool, and the wind has a small bite to it, nipping my bare arms. The tall buildings of the city surround me. I hear the faint rumble of an engine, and a government vehicle pulls to a stop next to me. It's a truck, with room in the back for the new additions to fit in. The government symbol is boldly painted on the side. I get up into the cab, both me and the old driver ignoring each other.

On our way to the docks, we pass the illegal marketing spot in the city. Ramshackle stalls are sprinkled everywhere, the only protection from the wind a few blankets draped over the moulding wood. An odd rug is see, with the vendor and their wares spread out around them. For being against the law, it's in the open, and too vulnerable. As we pass, frightened and angry faces turn up to the truck. I pretend not to see.

We slow down as I see the docks. The steel docks have a dull shine, with mist hanging over them like ghosts. I can see the huge government ships, and a smaller one, probably the transport for the new initiates. I hop out of the truck lightly, landing on the cement. My dull footsteps turn metallic as I step onto the docks, making my way to the transport ship. I stand in front of it, waiting. The gangplank is lowered, and I could see pairs of eyes peeking out of portholes, looking at the new world that they've been put into.

A teenage boy, slightly younger then me, lead the group down onto the docks. His bright eyes were steely, like he was waiting for someone to mess up, in order to make him look good.

I study the group. They look pretty confident with themselves. Within a few days, that'll be gone.

"Follow me," I said to the group. Without looking back, I walk to the truck, opening the back doors. One by one, the climb inside. I swing up after them, closing the doors. I sit next to Mr. BrightEyes. He leans over slightly.

"You think you can train me?" He asked, a smirk on his face, a threatening tone in his words. Before he could draw another breath, my knife was at his throat. My face was calm.

"You think you can threaten me?" I replied, watching his shocked expression. Shocked looks shot our way. I carefully returned the knife, sitting back.

It was silent the whole drive back.

This.

This is what the government brings. Fear.

My instincts, what I had been taught, what I had programmed with....it had taken over. I could have hurt him, leaving him with scars to remember me by.

This is what the government teaches.

Leave your mark, even if it means pain.