The Weapon (The Hourglass Series Book 2) (4 page)

Switchblade
navigated his way between the low, squat buildings with ease. Sarah wished he
would stop chewing.

“Well
then,” said Switchblade, turning around to face Sarah as he continued to walk
backwards, confident in his direction. “Who are you then, girl with no ID?
Hell, how do you not have ID girlie? And you’re only a kid. I mean, no super
power is going to put their force behind you.”

“What
the hell are you talking about?”

“Do
you know who doesn’t have an ID? Spies, that’s who.”

“I’m
not a spy.”

“No
shit. You’ll like, what, twelve?”

Sarah
rolled her eyes, not bothering to correct him.

“Whereas
Finn here, hell, we might as well be buddies already.” Switchblade moved
quickly and threw a friendly arm around Finn’s shoulders, although with a bit
more force than what was warranted.

“Get
off me,” demanded Finn, shrugging his shoulders aggressively to dislodge
Switchblade.

“Whoa,
easy there bud,” said Switchblade, throwing his hands up in exaggerated
submission. “Don’t you know, we’re on the same team now.”

Finn
seemed to deflate a little at that.

“It
didn’t really feel like that when you had a knife to my back,” said Sarah
pointedly.

“Hey,
sweetie, just doing my job. Your job too, now.”

“Where
are we going?” asked Finn.

“To
Buchey’s, weren’t you listening?”

“Who’s
Buchey?”

“You’ll
see soon enough. So,” said Switchblade to Sarah, returning to his previous
topic, “what’s your name?”

“Sarah,”
said Sarah, giving up. They would have to call her something eventually. She
would choose a different last name, but it was just easier to keep her first
name as it was.

“And
why don’t you have an ID, Sarah?”

Sarah
shrugged. “Search me.”

 “But
you have a barcode.”

“Oh,
is that what this is?” she asked sarcastically, pointing to her burn.

Switchblade
snorted. “Whatever. I’ll find out sooner or later. Always do.” He smirked.

They
rounded the corner of a building and Switchblade ushered them in. There was no
reception desk here. They passed down a hallway and Switchblade knocked on a
door that was partially open.

“Come
in.”

He
pushed the door the full way open and stepped in, Sarah and Finn following
behind him.

Buchey
was a middle-aged, tired looking, heavy-set woman with dull brown hair sitting
behind a desk.

“Who’s
this?”

“New
volunteers,” said Switchblade.

Buchey’s
face cracked into an automatic smile. It was friendly, welcoming, and
completely superficial.

“Welcome,”
she said. “This is a bit unusual, getting volunteers all the way out here?” she
said it like a question, directing a raised eyebrow at Switchblade.

“Found
them on the side of the road,” he elaborated, “they escaped a prison or
something. Chose to serve the good fight rather than go back to the boat.”

Buchey’s
smile, which Sarah had expected to falter, seemed to grow in size instead.

“Alright.
Let’s get you sorted then. What are your names?”

“Finn
Simmons”

“Sarah
Pratchett.” Sarah pulled the last name from an old novelist her mother used to
love.

Buchey
bought up a program on her laptop and plugged in their names.

“Date
of birth?”

Finn
gave his and Sarah made up hers. She changed the date and month by one number
from her real birthday, so she would be able to remember it again if she had
to.

“City
of birth?”

Sarah
gave her city of birth as the same as Finn’s.

“Well,
Finn Simmons, you’re in here all right. Sarah Pratchett though seems to be a
bit of a mystery.”

“She’s
got a barcode,” added in Switchblade.

“Oh,
well then I’ll just-” began Buchey as she reached for a similar scanner to
Crewcut’s.

“Won’t
work,” jutted in Switchblade happily. “She doesn’t register.”

Buchey
looked nonplussed for half a second before the smile was back on her face. “But
you are a volunteer, are you not?”

Finn
opened his mouth but Sarah got in before him.

“Yes,
I am.”

“Then
we’ll just have to log you in from the beginning.”

After
a few more minutes of typing Buchey bent down to retrieve a suitcase next to
her desk. She clicked it open and bought out the same small DNA sampler device.

“Fingers
please,” said Buchey.

They
held out their hands.

“This
is your official and legally binding agreement to serve the military for two
years in exchange for your prison sentence.”

She
pricked their fingers before they could say anything. The small device sucked
up their blood and sent whatever information it obtained to the system.

Well,
thought Sarah. That’s that, then.

Buchey
returned the DNA sampler back into her case and bought out what looked like a
squat fire-starter.

“Turn
around,” said Buchey pleasantly.

“Why?”
asked Finn, slightly alarmed. “What are you going to do with that?”

Buchey
laughed. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you! We’ve all had it done, and we’re just
fine.”

She
spun Finn around with surprising strength and with a quick decisiveness pressed
the device against the back of his neck and pulled the trigger. Finn yelped.
She withdrew it. A small bead of blood escaped but that was all Sarah could
see.

“What
was that?” demanded Sarah.

“Just
a tracker so we can keep an eye on you. It’ll allow us to find you if you’re
ever captured by the enemy.” Sarah looked less than convinced and Buchey added.
“It’s mandatory.”

She
swivelled Sarah around and pushed the device into her neck. Even knowing it was
coming Sarah gave a small yell. It felt like she had just been electrocuted.
She reached up and gently probed the area once Buchey withdrew her tracker gun.
She thought she could feel something under the skin there, but she wasn’t sure.

“Of
course,” added in Buchey, “I’ve since had mine removed, but that’s the perks of
seniority. And don’t think you’ll be able to remove it yourself. I just
inserted a dozen tiny, tiny tracking devices. You’ll never get them all and
you’ll do a lot of damage messing around in your neck.”

Sarah
stared at her. What Buchey was saying basically equated to ‘
you’re mine now
.’

“Now,”
said Buchey, pulling out a camera and snapping a picture of each of them that
they weren’t prepared for. “You have those scars on your wrists,” she said,
making a note. “Anything else?”

They
shook their heads.

Buchey
gave them a look. “Fine.” She came over and quickly and efficiently checked
under their clothing without actually removing anything. “Scar, right
shoulder,” she said, pointing to Sarah. “And you have a birth mark on your right
thigh. Really people, it’s not that scandalous.” She made a few more notes and
turned back to face them. “Although this timing is a bit irregular,” continued
Buchey, “we should be able to fit you into one of the training programs we’ve
just started. They’ve been going for a week already, but I’m sure you’ll be
able to catch up. Training usually lasts for three months and then we put you
to work.”

Three
months!?
thought Sarah. That didn’t seem like a lot of time at all. And that meant
twenty-one months, minimum, in the field. She hoped she wouldn’t die.

“The
Private will escort you to your bunks where you’ll meet your team. You start
training tomorrow.”

“Right.”
The word came out of Finn as heavy as a tombstone.

They
followed Switchblade out of the building. Sarah and Finn walked in silence as
Switchblade blathered on about their surroundings and how they were going to
suffer in training. Sarah barely heard him. She couldn’t believe it. After
everything they’ve been through, escaping the Queen, the prison ship, hell,
even the Hourglass Group, and only a few days later they were serving the
military. Maybe she was bad luck. She certainly felt like it. She glanced at
Finn. His eyes were on the ground. She found herself frowning. He hadn’t been
himself in the past few days. Of course, he had reason not to be, but still, it
unsettled her. He felt her gaze and glanced up. Sarah looked back down at the
ground. He probably blamed her for getting caught. He was probably right. She
felt a well of shame build up and nearly knocked into Switchblade as he came to
a halt in front of a low-set, wide building. She stopped herself just in time.

“Whoa,
I know you’re eagre, ghost girl, but all in good time.”

Sarah
really did want to punch him.

He
opened the door and walked in. There was a central isle spanning the whole
length of the building. Open doorways lining both sides revealed long,
dorm-like rooms. The further away they travelled from the door, the messier and
more personalised the rooms got.

“Girls
on the right, boys on the left. You’re newbies, so you’re as far away from the
entrance as possible. If there’s a fire, you guys are the last to leave, you
get it?” They arrived at the very last set of doors. Sarah peered in. It was a
mess inside. There had been an attempt at making the beds but it was nothing
next to the hospital-grade perfection of the other rooms. There were pictures
and personal items strewn everywhere. “What a mess,” said Switchblade
gleefully, “you guys are going to get it.” He slapped them cheerfully on their
shoulders and turned around and marched away.

They
watched him go. Once he disappeared out the door Sarah looked at their
surroundings again. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable looking at Finn.

“You
shouldn’t have done it.” Finn’s voice, coming from behind her, cut through her
like glass. Reluctantly she turned around to look at him.

“Done
what?”

“Volunteer.”

“Excuse
me? I didn’t have a choice.”

“They
had nothing on you! You were clean, Sarah!”

“There
was this!” she said, thrusting her barcode towards him.

“It
didn’t register!”

“They
would have found something.”

“You
don’t know that.”

“Yeah,
I do.”

“Why
didn’t you go?” asked Finn again. He seemed genuinely confused.

“I
told you.”

“It’s
not good enough.”

On
an impulse Sarah leaned in and kissed him. He kissed her back. He groaned.

“You
should have gone. Glad you didn’t. But you should have.”

She
just grinned at him and then glanced around.

“I
can’t believe this is happening.”

“I
know.”

“It’s
like a bad dream or something. I keep expecting to wake up.”

Finn
gave a wistful sigh. “Remember when we were only sentenced to a few months?
Bliss.”
Sarah punched him playfully on the arm, but it made her feel better.

“C’mon,
let’s go check out our new digs.”

They
ambled into one of the dorms. It was the boy’s side, Sarah remembered. Rough
blankets had been thrown over most of the beds, but it was the closest they got
to looking made. There were loose items of clothes scattered around the place.
Here and there pictures of family members and girlfriends were plastered. There
was more than one picture of scantily-clad ladies, which Sarah pretended not to
see.

“I
hope the girl side doesn’t smell so much like dirty socks,” commented Sarah.

Finn
inhaled deeply. “Smells like the boy’s quarters on the ship.”

“Eugh.
No wonder you were so keen to escape.”

“Yeah,
well, that and not being experimented on, or beaten to death, you know, but
mostly the funk.”

Sarah
snorted, trying not to laugh. The sounds of feet and voices drew their
attention to the doorway.

“You
have got to be kidding me.”

“You
have got to be kidding me.”

Finn
said it at the same time as the boy at the door.

It
was Boulder.

“Boulder?”
exclaimed Sarah, stunned.

Boulder
only hesitated for a moment, and then any surprise he might have felt was
carefully swept away from his face as he strolled into the room.

“Girl’s
dorm is that way,” he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

“We
thought the Hourglass Group caught you along with the others,” said Finn.

“You
let the others out?” Boulder asked, eyebrows raised. “Why? I told you losers
not to.”

“Oh,
I don’t know,” said Sarah sarcastically, “just something about leaving them to
be experimented on with war weapons.”

Boulder
rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

By
now about three more boys had joined them.

“New
recruits?” asked one of them to Boulder.

“Yeah,”
said Boulder. He didn’t need to ask. He was there, and they were there. It was
pretty obvious what had happened. He turned back to Sarah and Finn. “Where’s
the crazy one?”

“Marland,”
said Sarah.

“Yeah,
whatever. Marland. The crazy one with all the conspiracy theories. Did she get
caught? Is she dead?”

“No
she’s fine. She found people like her.”

“Crazy
people,” insisted Boulder.

“What?
No, well…yeah.” Sarah sighed. He had a point.

“Do
we have new people?” called a different voice, a girl’s this time. Two girls,
upon hearing new voices, had followed the boys into the dorm.

“Looks
like it,” said the other boy who had spoken before. He was tall with blond
hair. He was a bit older than the rest of them. Possibly seventeen, thought
Sarah. He looked comfortable in his surroundings, like it was where he was
meant to be. “What’re your names?” he asked.

“Finn,”
said Finn, “this is Sarah.”

The
blond guy nodded at them in greeting. “My name’s Hutch. So, are you lot
volunteers, or
volunteers
?” He stressed the last ‘volunteers’ in a
sarcastic way.

“They’re
the same as me,” said Boulder, “only more stupid.”

Sarah
sighed.  “Thanks, Boulder.”

“No
military pride, then?” It wasn’t really a question, Hutch was just affirming
his suspicion.

“Got
it in one,” said Finn, completely unabashed.

“My
family is military, so is Jaz’s,” he gestured to a girl of average height with
dark, thick, shiny hair and dark brown eyes. “We take it seriously. Our lives
might depend on you guys doing the same, so don’t piss around.”

Finn
and Sarah nodded. Fair enough.

A
shrill whistle pierced the room. Hutch turned to them.

“That
means lights out in ten. You need to go to your dorm,” he said to Sarah. “Jaz
will explain things.” He faced Finn. “You’re with us.”

Sarah
glanced at Finn before following Jaz and the other girl back to their dorm
across the hallway. Much to her relief, it smelt a lot better than the boys’
room. It held four beds, two of them currently unmade. It was a lot cleaner,
although there were a few brushes and hair things strewn around one of the
girl’s beds. Sarah guessed they belonged to the smaller girl.

“So,
Sarah,” said Jaz, as they walked inside, “I’m Jaz, this is Bettina.” Sarah
smiled at them. Bettina winked back at her. Jaz walked to the far side of the
room where there was a closet. Inside were clothes, neatly separated into two
sections. On the very top shelf was bedding linen. She reached up and grabbed
two sheets, a pillowcase and a blanket. As she returned and handed the bedding
to Sarah she kept on talking. “You’re probably wondering how things work here?”
she asked it more as a question than a statement. Sarah nodded. “Good, ‘cause I
was going to give you a rundown whether you liked it or not.”

“Jeez,
Jaz, give her a break. She’s probably tired out from murdering people or
whatever it is she did.”

“I
haven’t murdered anyone!” Sarah spluttered. At the same time an image of Mr
Wall plummeting to his death flashed in front of her eyes. She shook it away
and realised that Bettina was still grinning at her.
“So what then?” prompted Bettina.

Sarah
just stared at her blankly.

“What
was it that you did to get sent here?” spelled out Bettina for her after a
pause.

“Oh,
right.” The two girls were looking at her intently. It was obvious they weren’t
going to let this one go. Sarah shrugged. “I was accused of stealing food.”
There was no way she was going to go through the whole story with them. She
doubted that Boulder had been very forthcoming either.

Bettina
let out a little incredulous shriek. “That’s it? Surely they would have sent
you to the farms for what? A few months, tops? What the hell did you volunteer
to come here for instead? You know you’re here for years, right?” 

Sarah
was saved from answering by Jaz interrupting. To Sarah’s surprise Jaz had an
understanding smile on her face. “Not everyone thinks this is hell,” said Jaz,
giving Bettina a playful punch on the arm. She dropped the bedding onto one of
the spare beds. “Here, I’ll give you a hand making it,” she said to Sarah.

“Uh,
thanks.” Sarah felt relieved. Obviously Jaz thought she had joined out of
patriotic pride or something that closely mirrored her own version for joining.
Sarah was fine with that, especially if it made the other girl like her. From
what she had learned on the boat, it was best not to make enemies.

“So,
the rules,” continued Jaz as they made Sarah’s bed together. “We wake at six
every morning. Clean the room. Go have breakfast. Then there’s training for
most of the day. We haven’t been here long, so you’ll catch up quickly. We
break for lunch at twelve. Dinner at six-thirty. We have an hour recreation and
then lights out. We’re team thirty-two.”

“The
lowest of the low,” injected Bettina.

“For
the moment,” replied Jaz sharply. Then she softened. “But it does mean that we
basically have to do whatever the other guys tell us or we get in trouble.”

“Yeah
did you see the state of the boys’ rooms?” asked Bettina, incredulous. “Sarg is
going to blow his top.”

“Who’s
Sarg?”

“The
guy who yells at you until you do something. Actually even then he tends to
keep on yelling. You know what? I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak in a
normal voice.”

“I’m
pretty sure he’s had his voice box surgically enhanced,” added Jaz with a
guilty giggle. It was the first time Sarah saw her not being serious.
Apparently it was a surprise for Bettina too, because her draw dropped open in
wonder.

“Jaz,
did you just tell a joke?”

Jaz
blushed and Bettina grinned. Bettina turned to Sarah.

“I
don’t think you know how momentous an occasion this is,” Bettina said to her in
a stage whisper. Jaz threw Sarah’s pillow at her, which she had just finished
stuffing into its pillowcase, hitting Bettina in the face.

“Shut-up.”

At
that point the lights went out. Sarah sat down on her bed, suddenly feeling
tired. She would have loved a shower but she didn’t know where it was and
doubted she could find it in the dark. She didn’t even know if she was allowed
to leave her room anyway.

“Hey,
can someone throw my pillow back?”

It
landed in her face with a soft thud.

“Thanks.”

She
thought Jaz and Bettina continued talking, but she wasn’t sure, as two seconds
later she was fast asleep.