“Wow! You know how to read too?” Amy turns back, looking at Topaz with respect.
The little girl nods. “Martha and I went to school where we read plenty of books.”
“I love the old fairy tales about noble knights and princes,” Martha utters. “I wish a real prince would come to rescue me one day and then…” She closes her eyes, giggling. “Then we’d fall in love and get married.”
“You mean, you want to marry… Gabriel?” Amy asks.
“Oh no!” Martha exclaims, terrified. “Only not Gabriel, please!”
“Well, he’s the only prince we’ve got,” Amy laughs.
It’s a long lazy day and life seems so good. I suddenly wonder how many of us will earn our desired yet illusive freedom. Will any of us ever get the chance to fulfill our dreams?
***
I sometimes cry silently at night, thinking about Trent. He’s been ignoring me since our last conversation. I wonder whether it’s my fault and if I could do something to change things. Should I approach him? Should I ask him point blank whether he likes me or not, and if he’d like to be my boyfriend? I just don’t know. But I do know I’m not that courageous yet. In spite of having such great friends like Amy, Martha and Topaz, I still feel like an outcast. And I often think how things might somehow change, if only Trent would fall in love with me. If only he would choose me over all the other girls. I’d know I’m not a freak, and that I’m worth loving. Unfortunately, Trent doesn’t seem to care about how I feel.
Most of the other racers avoid me, still angry after the incident with the dog. It makes me want to cry. It’s all so unfair. Samantha doesn’t bother me, which is surprising. She mostly keeps to herself, quiet and absent-looking. Every once in a while I see her with Trent.
The days drift by and in the fourth month of our training Gabriel arrives to watch us run on the track. He orders us to form a line in front of him, and unholsters his handgun. I get a really bad feeling.
CHAPTER 8
“Was I clear enough when I said I don’t tolerate laziness?” Gabriel says, his tone apathetic. “I asked you to perform one simple request, to work hard to achieve outstanding results. But I’ll be damned if any of you understood what was requested. Are you too stupid to understand? Or just too lazy? Maybe you think it’s my fault because I didn’t provide detailed enough instruction?”
We all stand motionless, eyes averted, just listening. Gabriel holds up a stack of papers, shaking them.
“Here!” His voice becomes harsher. “I have all your results recorded. And I can swear I’ve never seen another group of racers with results this bad.” He smacks the nearest girl across the face with the reports. “What’s this? Is this what you call hard work? Are these supposed to be the excellent results I asked you to deliver?”
The girl closes her eyes, shivering. My heart races and I feel like I’m about to throw up.
“Damn you all!” Gabriel shouts, tossing the papers into Sandro’s face. “You’re all worthless. Not one of you is worth the money my family paid.”
“They’ve only had four months of training, master,” Brutus says. “It takes much longer to achieve satisfactory results.”
Joan stands aside, brooding and silent.
Gabriel smirks. “Have you just disagreed with my analysis, Brutus?”
“No, master.” Brutus lowers his head. “You’re absolutely right.”
Gabriel rolls his eyes and looks spitefully at him. I wonder why Brutus is so scared of Gabriel. Aren’t Brutus and Joan free? Don’t they have the right to do or say whatever they please?
“What can I do to inspire you?” Gabriel says, walking down the line. “How might I convert you into hard-working racers?”
He stops in front of Trent, pointing the gun directly into his face. He then approaches Topaz and Martha, smiling and softly brushing their chins with the weapon.
I suddenly realize that our results have little to do with Gabriel’s anger. He’s just using this as an excuse to intimidate and torture us, enjoying our fear.
I stand frozen, trying not to move, trying not to breathe, just as I always do when hiding from dogs during training. The problem is, Gabriel isn’t a dog. He’s something much worse. He’s a brutal, sadistic master whom we’re powerless against.
“I know what we’ll do for starters,” he says. “We’ll have a little race. I want you to run three laps around the track. And the last to cross the finish line will be shot in the head.”
He flashes a bright smile, waving the gun in the air. I can’t believe this is really happening. My legs turn to mush and I feel spineless. He wouldn’t really kill the last racer, would he? I look into his cold, blue eyes and realize he certainly might.
“Come on,” he grins. “Let’s have a little fun.”
Joan strikes the ground with her whip, causing me to flinch. “Hurry! Move it!”
We obediently proceed to the start line, fear thickening the air. I suddenly wonder why no one attempts to do anything. There are no guards present. There is only Brutus, Joan with her whip and Gabriel with his gun. Yet we all remain silent and submissive.
I don’t have time to ponder the thought.
“Go!” Gabriel yells, firing his gun in the air.
I spring forward, pure adrenaline shooting through my veins instead of blood. The space around me fills with heavy footsteps and ragged breaths. Amy runs beside me along with Martha and Topaz. It feels odd, as if being in a dream world. After the first hundred yards my mind finally clears, and I’m able to
