The Test

Nine

"Anya."

My door bangs open at three that night. Luc's voice is the second thing I hear, after the door opening, which sounds like a gunshot.

"Get up. We need to go. Now."

"Why?" I mumble sleepily. Good thing I was too tired to change out of my clothes; I just roll out of bed after little convincing and start putting my boots on; the fog of sleep surrounding my brain hasn't even really cleared from my brain.

"Just go." he shoves me unceremoniously towards the door. "I'll explain in the jeep."

"Wait!" I cry, dashing back into the room. The fog has cleared just enough for me to remember my belt, with its many knives still attached. I strap it on. "Now I'm ready," I say, grinning up at him. "I'm ready to kick some ass."

He grins back a little, shaking his head. "Come on, Anya," he says softly. "We've got some rescuing to do."

~

"We found another Genetic on a raid, and went to get more reinforcements," Luc explains as we bump along the road in the ex - army jeep to wherever we're going.

"Why me, though?" I'm still mystified. "Why am I allowed to come?"

"Because you're still relatively new to this. You'll be able to relate to him more."

"Him?" I ask, toying with my sleeve.

"His name's Callum. That's all we've been able to get out of him."

"Are there more of us already there? Or is it just us?"

"It's just us to get him out, but there are others waiting in case anything goes wrong.The boy was found hiding in an old warehouse in what is now called the Bloodhound District, which was the Business District."

I nod, not daring to look anywhere other than down at my boots; the sight of the road hurtling along at such a speed will make me queasy.

After about half an hour, we pull up downtown, outside a dilapidated warehouse that has one single light left intact.

We push open the door that's hanging on by a hinge, and step into the warehouse, shelves empty or obviously raided and half knocked down, broken glass littering the floor. It still astounds me to see all this devastation; is this what our world has become? What we have become?

Plies of broken glass, strewn across the floor. Unwanted. Unloved. Disowned. Discarded. Like us.

Me.

I see what Luc means about me being able to relate to this poor boy, probably another failed Test subject, chucked out onto the cruel streets to fend for himself.

Well, not anymore.

The broken glass crunches under my feet as I step slowly forward, inching into the cavernous warehouse, borrowed rifle raised and at the ready.

I can feel Luc behind me, a steadying hand on my back taking care that I don't fall. After the ordeal he put me through this evening, I think it's the least he can do.

Our eyes search the room for threats, tense and on edge, and eventually we decide to split up and search one side each for speed.

I take the right side and stalk quickly down an isle, taking care to throw cans of food and MediPatches from the bulk order boxes on the shelves into my pockets and the pack on my back. I find myself in the clothing storage area, labelled PRE-SHIPMENT, and find the last pair of hiking boots on the shelf are in my size. I grab them and stuff them in my pack, taking a grappling hook and rope for good measure - this must have been a camping store warehouse back in the day, when everything was normal and when there were still stores to ship this stuff to.