He closes his eyes. “Kora, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Are you Samuel’s son? You’re a prince, right?”
His mouth twitches and he shoots me a look as if I’ve slapped him.
“Wrong. Samuel isn’t my father. He’s my uncle and the killer of my family.”
“What?!”
“My real name is Christopher. I was named after my father. He was the high master of Central Settlement before Samuel took his place.”
My heart rate skyrockets. I remember his panic attack, his excitement upon discovering my knife and obsession about Gabriel’s death. I realize I’m sitting beside the legitimate high master of our land. The servant girl in me feels a wave of admiration, but I quickly suppress it. I’m no longer anybody’s servant.
“Everybody believes you’re dead,” I mutter.
“As you can plainly see I’m alive and well.”
“But I heard roamers killed your entire family.”
“Of course you did.” Wreck smirks, and stabs the knife deeply into the floor. I shudder. “Samuel made sure it looked that way. But it’s not true. I know. I was there. I watched as Samuel’s soldiers butchered my parents and four sisters. I watched as they cut off their heads and tore their bodies into pieces.” His eyes glaze over, his grin turning into a sneer. “Blood was everywhere… on the floor, walls, the ceiling.” He pauses. “Like for me to continue? You still want to know more?”
I swallow hard and ask, “Why did Samuel kill your family?”
“Why do you think? He wanted to become the high master. It passed down to my mother who was a better fit for the role. She was Samuel’s older sister and took over leadership after my grandparents passed. She was smart, kind and broad-minded. My parents planned to liberate the servants. Samuel played along and pretended like a good member of our family for many years. I used to play with Gabriel when I was a kid. Can you believe that? He was a jerk even as a child.”
My eyes focus on the rough scar across his cheek. I remember Gabriel holding his knife at my face and Amy’s bloody cuts.
“Samuel and his soldiers broke into the mansion at night,” Wreck continues. “They made everything look like it was a roamer attack. They even painted their faces and wore dark clothes. But I recognized my uncle. His weak disguise couldn’t fool me.”
“How did you survive?” I ask.
“Well,” Wreck sighs. “I wasn’t the only boy in our family. My parents had also adopted a homeless kid. He had been traveling with a group of thieves and grifters. They were doing magic acts and robbing people along the way. This boy came to our mansion to beg for money. My parents felt sorry for him because his owners were abusing him. So we bought him. And that is what ended up saving my life. Samuel’s soldiers mistook him for me and killed the wrong boy. Our nanny, an old lady, managed to lead me out of the mansion. She took me to her home village. A few days later soldiers arrived and killed her along with all the other villagers, looking for me. I escaped, leaving everything behind, and Jin found me a few weeks later. That’s all. The end of the story.”
I say quietly, “I’m so sorry, Kris.”
He turns to face me, his teeth bared. “Are you satisfied now? Do you feel better knowing who I really am? I’m just a coward. I did nothing to save my family. I just hid while Samuel’s soldiers were slaughtering them.”
His furious voice startles me.
“You were just a kid,” I say.
“So what? My sister, Violet, was only fifteen. But she took a gun and downed three soldiers before they could get to her. She was trying to protect her family. And I did damn well nothing.” He breaks off for a moment, his expression haunted. “I can’t stop thinking of what I might have done. Every waking day and night I think about it, Kora. I can still see dead eyes of my mother and father. I can still hear my sisters crying and calling out for me. I won’t ever forgive myself for being a coward that night, for letting him kill my family. I should have fought and died along with the others.”
I sniffle, feeling suffocated. I want to throw my arms around him, press my face into his chest and cry. Instead, I just whisper, “You shouldn’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”
“Stop crying, Kora. I don’t want your sympathy, all right?”
“Kris…”
“I said stop it.” He stands up and points at the door. “You’ve got what you came for. Now leave me alone, please.”
I sit unmoving. Wreck grabs my elbow, yanks me to my feet and half leads, half drags me toward the door. He pushes me outside and shuts the door. I stagger along the street, wiping away my tears and shivering. But even as I cry, my brain is busy working out a plan how I can use all this.
I know I can’t kill Samuel and rescue my friends on my own. I need a tough experienced fighter who might help me. But how can I persuade him to follow me? How can I get him to do what I want?
I miss my friends so much and feel homesick and lonely. I still remember Trent holding me gently in his arms, his soft lips pressing against mine. My heart aches. I want so badly to be his girlfriend. I envision Martha laughing cheerfully. Samantha, whom I used to hate yet turned out to be so similar to me. Sandro and Dennis and all the other racers… How many days do they have left before the next Terror Race?
An odd determination grows inside me. I must free my friends from
