The Modified (The Biotics Trilogy, #1) (11 page)

“Okay, don’t overdo it, Jamie. Just relax,” my dad says in a soothing voice. “Now open your eyes and look at your hands.” Jamie opens her eyes and they fill with surprise.

“I want you all to imagine being able to use this energy, that you see right before your very eyes, in combat. Because over the next month that’s exactly what you’ll be doing. Thank you, Jamie, you may return to your seat. Oh, and don’t worry, with practice the nosebleeds will go away,” he explains as he ushers the shocked cadet back to her seat. “So, who else would like to give it a go?” my father asks and then claps his hands together. I see several hands shoot up into the air, mine included.

Chapter Six

Training Ground

I hear a voice and footsteps going back and forth outside my door. Pushing myself off my bed, I make my way toward it. The door rolls open and I’m surprised to see Landon standing there. He looks at me and smiles while combing his hand through his chestnut brown hair. He seems to be at a loss for words.

“Landon, what are you doing here? It’s late and we have class tomorrow.”

“I know, I know, but some of us are going to the rec hall to unwind and check out what’s going on with Earth. I was hoping you’d join me, I mean, us,” he rambles.

“Sounds like a plan. I don’t think I could sleep right now anyway,” I reply with a smile.

When we enter the rec hall, my first thought is that it looks more like a really nice lounge than an actual military recreation hall. There are several large screens affixed to the walls that all tuned into the World News Network. A few tables and chairs that are made up of blue light are scattered about the space, and three large white plastic couches are arranged in the center of the room.

Landon shakes hands with a guy that I recognize as one of the draftees from his region. “Oh, Kenley, this is Bradley Jacobs. Bradley, Kenley Grayson.” Bradley nods at me and I nod back. “So, any news about Earth?” Landon asks him.

“It’s not good,” the guy replies.

“Did something happen?” I ask anxiously.

“South Africa was attacked earlier. They came under heavy artillery fire and were hit by some major spacecraft debris. Everything happened at once. It’s all over the news. No one knows why the Bringers concentrated an attack there. They don’t expect many survivors out of the areas that were hit,” Bradley explains somberly.

“Oh my god,” are the only words that escape my mouth while watching the footage playing on the screen behind Bradley. The chatter amongst the rest of the cadets gathered in the rec hall ceases, and a quiet falls over the room as we all just stare at the devastation. “Why is this happening?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.

I feel someone take hold of my hand, it’s Landon. His grip is firm and his skin is smooth to the touch. His palms are slightly sweaty. Somehow this simple action calms me.

“I don’t know why,” is all he says.

The next day Landon walks with me to class again. I want to ask him why he grabbed my hand last night.
Was it because he was sympathizing? Was it a spur-of-the-moment thing? Was it planned? Does he like me? Stop it, Kenley, this is not the time for this
, I argue with myself.

“Here we are, our first official class,” Landon states as we reach the door to training room A. The room looks identical to the one we were in yesterday.

We hear a resounding “file in,” come from the open door. As we enter the room, I immediately recognize the man standing at the front. He’s dressed in the same dark blue military uniform that he wore on the first day we arrived. His penetrating stare makes me feel uncomfortable as he begins to pace back and forth at the front of the class, like a caged animal.

“Line up!” he barks while pointing to the far wall.

I notice there are no desks activated in the room as I rush over to stand against the bright white wall.

The man stops in his tracks and turns to us while putting his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “The name’s Liam Archer. Commander Archer to you lot. I’m your instructor for Strike division. As you can see there are no desks in this room. You will not be sitting in my class. You will stand. No one in Strike fights sitting down. That’s the Tactical Division’s job.” He pulls out a rectangular device that looks like an electronic tablet, but has a see-through glass screen that’s trimmed in shiny metal. I can kind of make out the words through the back of the device and they’re a bright neon blue color.

Someone really likes white and blue a lot.
I think everything here is either white or blue with shiny metal trim, I joke to myself.

“So if you don’t mind…what am I saying? Of course you don’t mind. We’re just going to jump right in and begin,” he barks again as he scrolls through the device in his hand. He pauses and looks up at us. “Grayson, Kenley,” he calls out standing right in front of me.

I step forward, “Yes, sir?”

“Where’s the salute, soldier?” he yells at me and I swear saliva flew from his mouth toward my face. I raise my hand and give a proper salute. “So, you’re the daughter of the headmaster, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” I reply.

“Up for a little demonstration, Grayson?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yes, sir.”

He hits a button on the device in his hand and a light turns on, revealing another room in the back of the class. Commander Archer points to the open door and says, “After you.”

The room is made up of large white square tiles that cover the walls and floor and are trimmed in shiny metal. A large glass window looks into the room from the training room. I see all the other students line up at the window as I move to stand at the center of the room. I’m not really sure what to expect next.

Commander Archer comes up behind me. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Begin what exactly, sir?” I ask confused.

He hits another button on his device and a panel on the floor in front of us rises slightly and slides to the side. What appears to be some kind of robot emerges from the opening. It reminds me of one of a department store mannequin, but this one is all metal. It takes a few steps forward and enters into a combat stance with its hands clenched out in front of it. Totally nervous, my body stiffens as I look over at Commander Archer.

“Well?” he asks.

“Well what, sir?”

“Don’t just stand there and look pretty, Grayson. Attack the drone,” he orders.

“Aren’t you supposed to train us first? This seems a little advanced, sir,” I ask hesitantly, hoping he doesn’t flip out and yell at me again.

“What better way to learn than to experience it first hand?” he answers smugly.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t feel ready to fight this thing.”

“Disappointing, Grayson, truly disappointing,” he states shaking his head and crossing his arms. He presses a button on the electronic pad and the drone goes limp. I relax and breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

I turn to make my way back to the training room, but Commander Archer’s arm stops me. “I haven’t dismissed you, soldier. You said you wanted to train first, well let’s train,” he says and then presses another button on the touch pad. The drone stands at attention and moves to the center of the room. “I need you right here, soldier,” Commander Archer orders me while pointing to the space right in front of him. I take a quick look at Landon and he sends me a look of concern. I turn back and warily make my way over to stand in front of the robot. I would stare into its eyes, but it doesn’t have any. Its shiny metal face only shows a distorted reflection of mine.

“Hit it,” Commander Archer orders.

 “But it’s made of metal,” I reply.

“You know for someone who has superhuman abilities, you sure do give a lot of excuses,” he responds smugly. “Hit it!”

I get into a fighting stance and ready myself to throw a punch. Reeling back my arm, I breathe in and then out as I push forward, twisting at my hips to give myself more power. I connect with the drone’s face and pain surges through my hand and down my arm. I let out a slight groan as I pull my hand to my chest, cradling it with my other one. There’s a slight dent in the drone’s face when I stare up at it.

“Again,” Commander Archer demands. I give him a look of “are you serious?” and he replies the same, “Again.”

Getting back into my stance, I reel back and throw another punch. The pain is even more intense this time. I peel my hand from the drone’s face and yell in pain while cradling my hand again. There’s blood and a little skin from my knuckles left in the grooves of the dent on the robot’s face.

“Harder!” he shouts. I can hear the other cadets chattering amongst themselves as tears begin to well up in my eyes. “I said harder, soldier.”

“I can’t,” I blurt out.

“You can’t?” he asks smugly, getting into my face and grabbing a hold of my injured hand. I let out a squeal of pain. “I didn’t ask you if you could, Grayson. I gave you an order. Do you really think the Bringers will show you any mercy? Use the pain. Use the fear. Use the anger. They’ll keep you alive.” He leans in closer to me and whispers so only I can hear. “Your daddy is not always going to be there to save you. You have to fight for yourself, even if that’s not how you ended up here.” As he backs away from me, my face flushes with anger and I glare at him. “Hit it again,” he says forcefully.

My bracelet pulses blue and Galileo projects out. “Your vitals are at high levels, Kenley. I suggest you calm down and rest,” he explains.

“Hit the drone!” Commander Archer yells.

“She’s had enough,” I hear Landon roar as he enters the room.

“Back in line, soldier. I’ll decide when she’s had enough,” he barks at Landon while pointing a finger at him.

I look at Landon and mouth, “I’m okay.” He returns the look with one of worry.

“I’m only going to say this one more time, hit the drone, soldier!”

I feel this surge of energy course through my hands and my body. I’m completely blinded by anger as I get into my stance. I notice my hands are glowing bright neon blue and begin to pulse violently.

“Kenley, your vitals have reached critical levels. Risk of overheating is imminent,” Galileo chimes in. I ignore him and ready to throw the punch. I release a guttural yell as I propel my fist straight for the drone’s chest with all my might. Just before I make contact, my hand stops glowing and then crashes into the cold, hard metal. I hear a crunch but am not sure if it was the sound of the metal, or my bones breaking. My hand goes limp and the intense pain brings me to my knees.