Birthright

CHAPTER THIRTY

Kray had a nightmare when he went to bed that night. It was a dark and stormy night, and he was running desperately through the streets, turning corners blindly. Something was chasing him. A monster. He couldn't see it or hear it, but he knew that if he stopped, it would catch up to him. There was no instinct to fight in his body. Only run away. The world was bigger and scarier than he could ever remember it being, and he felt too much like a little boy to face his monster.

His breaths came out in desperate puffs. His bare feet hurt with each slap against the wet and stinging asphalt. As much as he wanted to escape from it, he wasn't fast enough as the monster. He eventually heard its pounding shoes, two rhythmic and furious beats that got closer and closer with each yard he covered.

H risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the shadowy form racing after him with intent. A sob of desperation burst from his throat. It had caught up with him. There was no escape now: he was too small and too powerless to get away once it managed to get its hands on him. But he had to try. He couldn't let it take him away. Not this monster.

Renewing his determination, he cut a sharp corner and darted onto the street, hoping to lose the monster by going through backyards. Another quick glance over his shoulder was his undoing. He heard the blare of the horn and the screech of brakes and saw the headlights flash over him and managed to duck at the last second. The hovcar sailed over his small body, but not before its front bumper clipped him in the back of his head.

The shock of the painful collision jolted Kray out of his sleep. He gasped awake, sitting up and struggling against the confines of the nightmare, the fear and horror of being pursued through the dark and rainy streets, but they held on to him.

He couldn't move, even when the hands gripping him under the arms dragged him out of his bunkbed and dumped him onto the floor. As his sleep-addled brain recovered, he realized that the nightmare might be over, but he'd woken up right into another one.

It was pitch-dark except for the light pulsating from his holowrist—and those of his attackers. Four in total, the small beams flashing around with the quick movements of their hands. A flash to his stomach and pain exploded through his gut. Another light went for his face. He flinched just as his attacker socked him in the jaw. Then another hard jab.

Blood pooled in his nose and spilled out. Before the next blow came, he slammed his forehead into the body of the nearest attacker, catching him under the chin. Not helpless, something growled inside him. He wasn't a helpless little boy anymore and he wasn't running scared from an imaginary monster.

He put up a fight against the four attackers, his elbows catching chests and collarbones, his fingers biting into their flesh, drawing blood. He gave as much as he got, until the moment came when pain ripped through his chest and the rest of him seized up with the agony.

The beating stopped. His attackers panted for air, their breaths heavy grunts in the darkness. He heard a clatter of something falling on the hardwood floor. "Let's get out of here."

They rushed out of the door, leaving Kray to bleed out on the floor of his dorm room.

#

An incessant beeping woke Kray up. He opened his scratchy eyes and blinked back the grogginess, moving his head as he took in the unfamiliar room. It looked like a hospital room. He lifted his arm gingerly toward his chest, expecting his bruises and injuries to flare up with pain, but he felt nothing except minor aches.

His chest was bandaged, but as he pressed a hand to it, feeling beneath the gauze and the cloth wrapped around his torso, he felt only a dim throb, as though his wound had already closed up. The rest of him ached though. Especially his head. It pounded in tune with the beeping machine, pulsating waves of a migraine that took root deep in his skull.