“Max, you in here?” Lil calls out.
“Yes.”
I can’t see her, but I know she’s probably jumping towards the stall. “Did you hear? I got chosen to be in The Litarian Battles.”
“Good for you,” I say, trying to sound sincere. “How soon do you have to be in Tarsus?”
“They’re sending a couple of Aedox over in the next hour. I have to go pack, but I wanted to say goodbye to you while I could.”
“Good luck. I hope you do well.”
“Thanks.”
The main door closes behind her as I decide to do another quick wash. The timer runs out just as I finish. I wrap myself up in the towel, pick up my dirty clothes, and go back to my room. Tilda placed the basket on my bed, so while I’m looking for something to put on, I’m also putting them away in the small dresser at the foot of my bed. Lunch is ready when I get back downstairs, but I still eat in the kitchen with Tilda.
I spend the rest of my day rebuilding the third carriage. I’ve created a metal shop behind the pavilion where I keep scraps, cutting machinery, and all my tools. No one else goes back there, so I doubt anyone has noticed it’s there. If I need more supplies, I usually let Vernon know on the days he comes by to drop off work. I have just enough material to get the third carriage operational, but I’ll need more paint and metal sheets if I have to make any other major repairs. I cleanup my mess, trying to get everything sorted for Vernon when he comes to pick up the cars tomorrow. I know he told me I have three days, but the government counts them as the day you get the workload as day one, and the day it’s due as day three.
I stick my hat and gloves in the pocket of my coat when I enter. The kitchen is quiet, and there isn’t anything on the stove or in the oven even though dinner is normally served at six, which is in a half-hour. I hang my coat on the hook by the back door, and go into the dining room, which is also empty.
Why do I even bother looking? They’re all in the common room now that Lil is in Tarsus. She’s probably being placed into The Litarian Battles tonight.
Only when I get to the common room, Brink is the only one there. His back is towards me and he’s sitting rather still. The display is actually off, which isn’t normal. I cautiously step into the room, constantly checking over my shoulder. Brink is awake. His eyes flutter when he notices me, but he doesn’t move. In his hands is a small device. I try to think of what it could be. It resembles a trigger used on some of the Aedox bombs, but there hasn’t been any violence in the Outer Limits in months. At least not by its citizens.
“Brink,” I say, stepping slowly towards him.
Sweat beads across his brow, soaking the brown hair that hangs slightly over his eyes. “I can’t move,” he says calmly.
“Where are the others?”
“I don’t…I can’t…”
The lights in the room go off and I’m thrown to the floor. My arms are secured behind my back, my legs are bound, and my mouth gagged. I recognize the Aedox uniform even if I can’t see their faces. The three blue stripes along the sides of the gray pants gives it away. Another one approaches Brink, presses a button on the top of the device in his hand, turning it off.
“The after effect will wear off in an hour,” the man tells Brink.
“What are you going to do to Max?” Brink asks, voice shaking.
“She’ll be back soon, Brink. We just need to borrow her for a little while.”
I try to scream, but I’m hit in the head, shutting everything out.
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Two
When I wake up, I’m in my bed. Brink is sound asleep in his. My muscles ache and I feel groggy, but not sure why. I toss the covers off, swing my feet onto the floor, and try to stand. The room sways violently in front of me, forcing me to sit back down. When I push myself off the bed again, pain shoots through my fingers. I scream, waking Brink. He’s next to me in seconds, helping me back into bed. I slowly look down at my hands. They’re scarred with intricate lines from the tip of my fingers all the way down to my wrists.
“What did they do to me?” I cry, tears running down my cheeks.
“Let me take a look.” Brink gently cradles one of my hands in his palm. The flesh is red hot, almost blistering. The scars are healing, but they still appear fresh. “Try and bend your thumb.”
I do, and it’s excruciating.
“Don’t move. I’m going to get Tilda.”
He runs out of the room, but it’s almost ten minutes before he returns. Tilda is not looking too well herself. She kneels down in front of me and exams my hands.
“What happened last night?” I ask her, almost pleading.
“I’m not sure. A man came to the door just before I was to start dinner. He had several Aedox with him, or at least they were wearing the uniform of an Aedox. He made all the staff go into the cellar, while the Aedox escorted everyone to their rooms.”
“Except me,” Brink says, sitting down on his bed.
“Why not you?” I ask.
Tilda looks up at me, fear in her eyes. “They were looking for you.”
The room is suddenly cold. Brink goes to my dresser and grabs a sweatshirt, wrapping it around me. I try to recall the events from last night, but all I remember is seeing Brink sitting in front of the display, motionless.
“Why? Why me?”
“I wish I knew,” Tilda says.
“They had me hold a paralyzer. It keeps the body from moving, but you
