chapter seven

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The reason for getting me out of the prison almost knocks the wind from my lungs.

I continue to stare at Sigma long after she has finished talking, letting her words sink into my head even though I wish them not to be there in the first place. She raises her eyebrows at me and doesn't say anything—just waits for my reply, but my mouth seems to have stopped working.

To cut to the chase, the plan for me is to pretend to be a Soldier in the prison to get the remaining Freaks out and back into the Ghetto, where they will be safe. I am the only one that's able to pull it off, Sigma said to me, because of the abilities I have. She told me to take the powers from the Freaks around the Ghetto, whichever ones I need. The Freaks will teach me how to use them.

We have four weeks until I finally leave, Sigma says. Four weeks because she thinks that the Freaks left in the prison could turn eighteen any day now. But just before my execution, I heard a Soldier say that the next Freak will turn eighteen in a few months. We have plenty of time to get ready.

But four weeks it is. 

And Sigma says we need to start training today.

Instead of shouting out the millions of questions I have at Sigma, I sit up a little bit straighter and look her right in the eyes. It's the apprehension deep within my stomach that spurs on my next words. "I don't think I'm capable of doing this," I say. "I strongly believe someone else is better suited for this situation."

"Trust me, Luca, they're not," she replies, shaking her head slowly. "You're the only Freak that is able to possess more than one ability, so of course you are capable." She sits up so she can look at me fully. "Why don't you think you can do this?"

I open my mouth to reply, but a strong feeling of trepidation keeps my lips firmly pressed into a thin line. Many different things could happen during this task. I can count multiple different ways I could be killed by Soldiers. And the worse thing is, I'm over the age limit for captivity.

If they catch me, they will kill me.

The feeling of anxiety is strong, so much so that I feel it weighing heavier and heavier against my chest the longer the silence stretches on between Sigma and me. Many different scenarios enter my head, but I push them down as far as they will go as I look back up at Sigma, a final decision already in mind.

"I'm in," I say before I can second-guess myself.

"Good, that's great." Sigma sits up a little straighter too, pressing her hands against the desk as she pulls her chair closer. "Don't worry, you won't be doing this alone. There will be a few other Freaks that will be training you, building more muscle and, of course, helping you with your abilities. They will teach you a few basic facts about the Soldiers, and everything else you could possibly need while being up above."

I nod once, trying not to show the fear on my face. Even though I said yes about doing this task, there's still the lingering anxiety at the back of my mind, pushing forward to the forefront of everything in my head. I wish I said no, or at the very least, said that I would think about it. But then I remember that if I don't do anything at all, the Soldiers will continue to kill us until we are all dead.

I can't let that happen. Never again.

So effective immediately, I will be learning more about the Soldiers and training to impersonate one—the Soldiers who took over our world and claimed it as their own. The same people who are killing Freaks simply because they fear us.

I nod my head and don't say anything else, suddenly wanting to be out of this cool room and back into the heat of the Ghetto. "Thank you, Sigma," I say quietly, almost hovering above the seat.

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