A Diamond in My Pocket (7 page)

He confirmed my thoughts by saying,
“We’re supposed to select a third for the assignment. I want Justin Macintyre.”

“Justin? Beth’s Justin?” I coughed
out my response. Of everyone in the clan, Chris and Justin seemed to have some
horrible taste in their mouths whenever they saw me. “Why Justin?”

“I don’t need your approval.”

“You just said
we
have to
choose the third.”

“You don’t know anything about
what’s going on here, therefore your opinion doesn’t matter. If it wasn’t for
the outdated process of choosing the trio, you wouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t
even be
here
at all.”

“Who peed in your Cheerios?” I
muttered and sat down in the other chair adjacent to Chris.

Just then, Mrs. Winter entered the
room ending our conversation. “Have you two come to a conclusion on the third?”

“Justin will be the third,” Chris
glared at me while he informed her.

“And you are alright with Justin,
Calli?” Mrs. Winter asked.

“I guess.”

“Here’s my list of the preferred
twelve for the accompanying group.” Chris handed a piece of paper to her and
sat back proudly.

“It’s evident you’ve planned this
out well. You have a good equal representation of all skill levels. What do you
think Calli?” She gave the list to me which I found interesting, considering I
don’t even know most of the people in the compound. The names kind of ran
together in my mind except for Beth’s name; that one stood out real well. Near
the bottom of the list one name had been crossed out and another added. The
crossed out name was mine.

“This list looks good except for
the fact Chris doesn’t want me on the team. He scratched my name out.” I showed
the list to Mrs. Winter.

Chris answered my retort before
Mrs. Winter could. “Because you came in last and it automatically put you in
the trio. I had to add someone else.”

So he
did
want me on his
team. The fact that he’d already drawn up the list meant he knew he’d be the
fastest; that didn’t escape my attention.

“Alright, Chris, alert everyone
else and be ready to run in thirty minutes,” Mrs. Winter instructed. Chris
stood and left the room in such haste that I couldn’t help but be offended. “Calli,
don’t worry about your speed, you will increase over time.”

“Clara, this doesn’t make any sense
to send me on an assignment when there are so many others who could do this
better. I’m so slow.”

“Everyone starts out slow, Calli,
and everyone starts out by going on an assignment. What better way for you to
learn how your new world operates?”

“Chris called this an outdated
process of choosing the trio.”

“We have always divided up the
responsibility of assignments by using an equal representation of the fastest,
slowest and an average Runner. If any trio is overtaken and lost, the clan
doesn’t suffer a total wipe-out of the best or fastest. Our missing clan
members are a prime example of this. Chris was already on a delivery when we
received a second assignment, so we held another time trial and a different
trio was selected; Dirk, John and Macey.

“So, I’m about to go on an
assignment that could end badly?”

“Every assignment is dangerous,
Calli; this one no more than the next. I know you are worried about your speed,
but your position in the trio is non-negotiable. You’ll need to hold someone’s
hand to draw upon their speed for a while.”

“What?!”

“Your position is non-negotiable,”

“No, not that part, you’re saying
I’ll have to hold someone’s hand?”

“Yes, either with Justin or Chris.”

Oh, this just keeps on getting
better and better!

I soon found myself in a community
changing room, similar to a locker room, with the six girls on the list: Beth Hammond,
Olivia Zimmerman, Ashley Bryant, Kayla Cooper, Lizbeth Morales and Jessica
Harper. Mrs. Winter and Mrs. Wood brought in piles of running clothing in a
forest green color. I figured there must be some wisdom behind this choice;
camouflage.

The material was the same as Chris
was wearing in Mrs. Winter’s office yesterday, kind of a cross between silk,
gossamer and Egyptian cotton, designed not to wear out due to excess friction. The
form fitting design of the suit made me extremely uncomfortable. It contoured
my body like a glove fits a hand; a very thin silken glove. I’ve never worn
anything so … I don’t think my father would let me leave the house in this
outfit, it was
that
scandalous. Mrs. Winter explained the fabric wicked
moisture off our bodies but also acted as a thermal insulator to keep us warm. I
caught my reflection in the mirror, astonished at what I viewed. A different
girl with an hour glass shape stared back at me.

Our specially designed
underclothing was made of the same material. Our bras fit tight like a sports
bra to prevent bouncing, yet didn’t flatten us down to nothing. The boxer/brief
underwear ensured no snuggies would have to be pulled out; sweet.

On the jacket the front pouch had
zippers which zipped down from the center out. Gravity wouldn’t be able to work
them open. Individual pockets inside the pouch allowed for personal items such
as Beth’s black eyeliner. A detachable hood folded neatly in one of the pockets
not taking up any more space than a folded dollar bill; and on the back of the
jacket near the collar another pouch contained an incredibly thin blanket no
thicker than plastic wrap. I was sure this too would keep us warm if needs be.

We each carried our own four day
supply of food; four individually wrapped granola bars formulated to give
energy and fill our stomachs. Each bar had three pieces; breakfast, lunch and
dinner. The kind of granola bars I was used to eating wouldn’t have done that. I
could eat four bars and still be hungry. Water would be obtained and purified
from rivers and streams using a collapsible cup and a small bag of purification
tablets. Each tablet was the size of the head of a pin.

The basic idea here was to take
only the bare necessities without adding extra weight or wind resistance. Therefore,
no jewelry, wallets or unnecessary items were allowed. Mrs. Winter also
reemphasized the rules of the phone use in our hotels; absolutely no calls
except to communicate with the other team members in adjacent rooms.

Mrs. Winter explained further, and
I felt this was for my benefit more than anyone else, “Once this party leaves
here, you will be on your own. The trio of leadership will make the decisions
for sleeping accommodations every night. No reservations have been made in
advance for any hotel or motel as this would mark a trail. You may find, at
some point, many of you crammed into the same room due to lack of availability.
I expect maturity and consideration from everyone and no inappropriate conduct
with the boys.”

A few girls giggled while others
groaned. At least that part of my new world was normal.

“There have been other missions
where hotel rooms were unavailable and quick decisions had to be made for
survival. I expect you to act without question if you find yourselves in a
situation like this. Chris has the responsibility on his shoulders in a moment
such as this to make sure the Runners are safe. Do exactly as he says. Am I
understood?”

A collective, “Yes ma’am,” echoed
through the room.

Mrs. Winter began talking with each
individual girl inspecting and approving what they’d placed in their pouches. A
few personal items didn’t pass inspection. I watched the other girls
intermingle with one another and I wondered if they would ever include me. Beth
was the only one who would even speak to me at this point, and that wasn’t
saying much.

Our entire team, with the guys
included, had ages ranging from thirteen to twenty-three. I was shocked that
two thirteen year old girls, Olivia and Ashley, were even allowed to go. Did
their parents have to give approval for such a thing? If they were at my school
and about to go on a field trip, they would need a signed release form. Somehow
I doubted it was the case here.

The door opened and I swear fog
rolled in to mystify the entrance of the eight guys. My eyes were drawn to
Chris. I’m pretty sure he walked in slow motion with a spotlight trained on
him. Everyone wore similar running suits of the same green color, enhancing
their physical perfections even more than is humanly possible, making them look
flawless. Their bodies were perfection at its finest, with Chris winning grand
prize in my book. The heavenly vision of bronzed skin stretched taut over toned
muscles made a small drip of drool slide to the edge of my open mouth. My heart
rate jumped up a notch as Chris and I made eye contact.

I thought about myself only a few
days ago, back when I was just a normal girl at regular high school. There were
only a couple of good looking guys and none of them could even hold a candle to
the looks or… “assets” Chris had. Suz would kill to be in my position.

My position. What was my position? Oh,
yeah, that’s right, slowest muck around, the loser who will be the tag-a-long
slowing everyone else down. My looks were so far beneath theirs and my
abilities might as well be nonexistent. They knew it, and I knew it.
Geez
girl, pull your head out of the clouds; they are all better than you will ever
be.

As they neared, I watched as
contempt washed over Chris’s face. I represented failure in his eyes and that
would probably never change. Of course, just because he had unabated hate for
me didn’t mean I couldn’t admire his body from afar.

So, there I was, feeling completely
inadequate, knowing I’d never measure up. And that’s how my day started. I hoped
it will end on a different note.

****

“Sir, the Runners are here.”

I listened as the secretary announced
our arrival over the intercom. The forty-five minute run to the office complex
had been rather pleasant. I held hands with Chris, but only after Mrs. Winter
demanded him to do so. Embarrassed, I assured him I didn’t have any diseases
and had had all my shots. He scrutinized me with his intense blue eyes and took
my hand gruffly. I concluded he’d rather have prostate surgery without anesthesia
than touch any part of me.

We flew, or at least it seemed like
we did, through the forest and over the lakes. Mrs. Winter was right; when you
run so fast that you don’t sink, you can go anywhere. What made the journey
pleasant was the fact that I couldn’t talk or read lips while running. I didn’t
hear any snide remarks or degrading comments as we wove our way toward the
destination with the other members of our team following closely behind until
we arrived.

We sat on uncomfortable
contemporary style arm chairs with a short table holding magazines in front of
us. I noted they were normal ones; the type I would have read only last week. The
sign on the door said: Harold Bates, Master Gemologist. I deduced from the kind
of reading material set out that Mr. Bates was a regular, normal guy.

The woman who sat at the front desk
held a nail file and gnawed down her long and elegantly colored nails. The
sound reminded me of Velcro being pulled apart over and over. The secretary was
pretty, very well put together, yet probably close to fifty years old.
If
only everyone’s appearance could be as favorable when they reached her age.

“Send in the fastest,” a male voice
sounded over the speaker at the secretary’s desk. She glanced in our direction
and Chris stood and walked gracefully to the door and entered the office. I
felt a whoosh of air and turned my head to find the secretary standing beside
us.

Before I could even voice amazement
at her speed, she spoke to Justin, “The task at hand is the delivery of the Sanguine
Diamond to the Death Clan.” She extended her hands cupped together which held a
huge diamond about the size of a small orange, “They are holding hostages from
every clan and this stone is what they’ve demanded to gain their release. This
must be delivered by the best of the Runners’ Clan.” Justin wiggled nervously
in his chair. “You must take this, Justin.”

“No! I’m not the best, Chris is.”

“You know he’s not,” she insisted.

“He’s the fastest.”

“He’s not.”

“What makes you think that?” Justin
asked. The flash of trepidation in Justin’s eye made me wonder what was behind
his question. Was he asking ‘why are you assuming I’m the fastest’, or ‘how did
you know?’”

“Will you carry the diamond,
Justin?” she pressed.

“No!”

She turned to me, “Will you carry
the diamond, Calli?”

I coughed and sputtered my protest
while Justin’s eyes bore holes through me, “I’m definitely not the best, in
fact far from it.”
And who told her our names?

“Being the fastest doesn’t mean
you’re the best.” The woman pulled a chair closer to me and sat down.

“Are you going to tell me being the
slowest does?” I asked quietly.

“Will you be the carrier of this
diamond?”

“I don’t—”

“She can’t, look at her! She’s a
muck!” Justin pointed at me in outrage.

“Silence,” the woman flicked her
finger toward him and he shut right up and seemed to freeze in place and then
she turned to me, “Calli, you are here for a reason. You are different from the
others and it is you who must carry the stone.”

“Why not Chris?”

“He’s not to be trusted.”

“Justin?”

“Same.”

“Me? Surely one of the twelve
outside would be better.”

“No, this task will be carried out
by you or no one. I’ve watched you for some time now and you are the carrier.”

“Well, then why did you make the
offer to Justin first?”

“I wanted you to witness his inner
weaknesses, his insecurity and doubt. Remember this moment in the days to
follow, and never forget that, yes, he is faster than you, but you are stronger
than him in more ways than one.”