I Am A Flyer

Freakish Pigs

He was back in the bunk room. The bed he lay on was second from the bottom, in a stack of four. He lay very still, hoping that nobody noticed him. Not that there was much chance of that.

That first night, this room had been full of boys like him. Now, he could count only eight others. Most of them were with their masters, he told himself. That's why there's so few. But that wasn't quite it, he knew. A bunch of them were dead. Just like that poor boy who had died an agonizing, horrible death in the medic ward, missing both his legs.

Jett suppressed a shudder. Despite that ugly scene, he still wanted to be back in the medic ward. At least there, he was safe. Safe from Gray's reach.

He lifted his right hand, stared at the bandages wound around his wrist. His left one was covered by that weird black band. Tracker bracelet. That what Nibran had called it.

'If you try to run, even Gray will come after you.'

He let his wrist drop, and stared up at the metal support bars above him. It was all like a story, he decided. Classic good versus evil plot. But it was an unusual story. Good guys were supposed to be good. They didn't kidnap boys and force them to become some warrior, with the only other choice being death. Okay, so maybe it wasn't a classic plot. More like evil versus evil.

Turning his head, he looked at the four boys gathered together at a nearby bunk. They were talking quietly to one another. One of them was someone he recognized - the spiky-haired, brown eyed boy with the circle and line design on his cheek. He had been the first to try and figure out what was going on, in that big room where it all had started.

So. He was still alive. Jett wasn't surprised. Maybe he'd be interesting to talk to. But Jett wasn't one for starting conversations with strangers.

Sighing faintly, he turned his head the other way, and picked out the other four boys. They weren't as. . .perky. . .as the others. All were lying in their designated beds, like he was. Although, perhaps, a little bit differently.

One, chunky and blond-haired, was curled up in a little ball, muttering in child-like tones to himself. Another had a huge swath of bandages wrapped around his bare chest, and he was staring grimly at nothing. The third seemed to be in a coma. The last frightened Jett a little, as the gangly youth was chuckling to himself quietly, in a mad sort of way.

"Well, I think it's great!"

The sudden outburst made Jett look toward the small group once more. One of the four was grinning, although his body language gave the impression that he was annoyed.

"How can accept this, Iern?" The spiky haired boy asked quietly. "How can you be so eager to go along with them?"

The grinning boy - Iern, playfully smacked the spiky boy in the shoulder. "Come on, Suil, this is an awesome opportunity! Who wouldn't want to fly?"

Suil narrowed his brown eyes. "This isn't a game, Iern. This is real, and if you don't accept that, you will end up dead."

"Give it up, Iern," a third boy said. "He'll never come 'round."

"Yeah, man, Suil's never going to be a flyer. Just give up all ready." Iern seemed to agree, and the three of them wandered off to another corner of the room.

Jett watched Suil, feeling a sense of admiration for the other boy. Suil obviously thought along the same lines as he did. He too, didn't want anything to do with this place.

Before he knew what he was doing, Jett had slid off his bunk, and was walking towards Suil. Next thing he knew, he was standing beside the spiky-haired boy.